This is a fusion between Gundam Wing (property of
Bandai) and Chaucer's "The Knight's Tale," a part of
his Canterbury Tales (property of nobody in
particular, as Chaucer's been dead for quite some
time). If this strikes you as particularly
melodramatic - good. It's supposed to. That's what the
real thing is like, after all. The anachronisms, too,
are intentional. Chaucer's Greeks rode around the
countryside hunting like Englishmen and dressed like
French gentlemen *shrugs* so don't be surprised if
mine do the same thing. If parts of this seem a little
silly, that's because no one but Chaucer could
possibly write something like this and have it be
perfectly serious; I know my limits as a writer and
didn't even try.
Title: Strif and Jalousye
Chapter: Chapter Three (3/5)
Pairings: 3+4 and 2+4, with other stuff mixed in
(mostly 13x11 and 13x5)
Warnings: Melodrama, violence, angst, death, and much
Quatre-worshiping. I'm also issuing a warning for
weird, dry, ironic humor. D...This ain't a story for
you (but I think we discussed this ages ago while I
was writing it the first time around).
+ + + + + + + + + + + +
Chapter Three
Duo bent low over the neck of his horse and urged him
onward, his hands clenched in his dark mane. He'd
'liberated' the slender black charger from the stables
for the afternoon and taken the opportunity to get in
a bit of riding. It was the sort of thing he could get
away with, now. In the years he had worked at Treize's
estate, his devotion to his job (which mostly
consisted of pleasing Quatre), had been noted, and he
had been promoted several times. He was now the chief
squire of the household and oversaw most of the day to
day running of the place - things that the Lady Une
could not be bothered with. Though he missed the
contact he one had with Quatre, he knew that in such
an elevated position he had a greater chance of
actually catching his fancy.
The rest of the servants - the entire household,
actually - were building up piles of wood for bonfires
and preparing a feast for the festival that would
start when the sun went down.
May Day tended to be the servants' favorite holiday.
Then again, they were likely to leap at any chance to
get rip-roaringly drunk and dance around bonfires all
night. It was a fertility celebration, after all. Most
of the actual festivities revolved around finding
someone who looked good in the firelight and was just
as drunk as you were to drag off into the bushes for a
bit of a romp. Duo could certainly understand the
appeal in that. However, he had no interest in the
laundry maids and sculleries who would be sure to try
and coax him away from the fire during the night. Even
the stable hand who had helped him sneak Shinigami out
for the day was of no interest to him, though the boy
was certainly handsome and friendly enough and had
made a point of asking if Duo would be at the fires
that night.
Duo only had one person on his mind - one perfectly
beautiful, perfectly sexy, perfectly unattainable
person with eyes like the sky and hair like the sun.
Duo pulled back on the reigns and clicked his tongue
at Shini as he thought of Quatre. The word among the
servants was that Quatre wasn't coming to the
celebration. Though it wasn't considered seemly for
the lords or ladies of a household to gad about in the
fields with the commoners, most did it anyway. Quatre
was the exception. He hadn't been to see the fires
since he was too young to participate in the more
'grown-up' revelries.
Quatre tended to keep to himself, much to Duo's
consternation. He stayed in his rooms all day, except
for the hour or so a day he spent wandering in the
gardens. Things generally seemed to be just as the
guard had told him, years ago, while bodily dragging
him from the premises - Quatre had no desire for
companionship and even less desire for romance. Duo
had learned since then that Quatre was here for
fostering with his cousin, Treize, and missed his
family a great deal. Duo had spent a few blessed
months working as his chamberlain and had in that time
noticed that the boy seemed a little off-kilter at
times. He would mope about in his rooms painting
desolate landscapes or playing heart wrenching songs
on his violin. In short, Quatre was lonely and
depressed.
The logical thing to do seemed to be to befriend the
boy. Unfortunately, this wasn't working at all. Quatre
seemed to /prefer/ being alone.
Duo sighed and dropped off his horse to the grass.
There was probably some kind of cosmic law against
someone as gorgeous as Quatre being lonely. It just
seemed...unnatural, somehow, for all of that to go to
waste. Creamy skin, soft pink lips, silken hair, a
smile to die for... Duo couldn't understand why the
gods would put a face like that with a heart so cold.
Or an ass like that. He grinned and stretched out on
the ground. More than once he'd considered just
jumping the boy in some remote part of the garden and
having his wicked way with him. Though it was an
interesting fantasy, it certainly wasn't something he
could ever see himself doing. In his dreams, Quatre
was always willing. The idea of rape was appalling to
Duo - he'd seen far too much of it on the battlefield
when he was young for it to hold any appeal to him
now. He wanted to see Quatre's face contorted in
pleasure, not in pain.
Truthfully, as madly in lust with Quatre as he was, he
wanted his heart as much as he wanted his body. Sure,
he would settle for a romp in the hay if it was
coming, but as long as he was dreaming, he might as
well dream big.
Duo released Shinigami's reins and wandered deeper
into the woods. He'd come out here to get a little
peace and quiet while he pondered his situation in
regard to his beloved. As often as he tried, he could
never think of a plausible way to win the boy over. He
thought he was on the right track, anyway. Quatre
could at least remember his name most of the time, and
sometimes he smiled when Duo gave him presents.
Presents! There was an idea. Duo had already tried, of
course, buying the boy things with the salary he got
from Treize and the rent he was receiving, discreetly,
from his properties in Sanq. Money didn't seem to
impress him one bit, though. It was hardly a surprise,
considering what a rich family he came from, that he
wouldn't think twice about the wealth of a mere
servant. But at the moment Duo had thought about
gifts, he had crossed into a grove filled with
woodbine and hawthorne. Duo remembered from his
gardener days that there wasn't much of either on the
palace grounds, and one thing that Quatre always loved
were plants and flowers. Wreathes and garlands of
greens were a traditional way to celebrate the
beginning of May, as well, and so the idea seemed
perfect. Duo started putting together bundles of the
stuff and then lay down on his back to put the thing
together.
"Who am I kidding," Duo muttered. as he struggled with
the stems. "Look at me. I'm a prince in line for the
throne and where am I? Sitting in the dirt and making
garlands for a boy who thinks I'm nothing but a lowly
peasant servant. I wouldn't have any kind of chance
with him unless we were at the same station, which we
really are, only I can't tell him because if I did I'd
get my head chopped off and presented to that Amazon
lady on a silver platter. Just a /bit/ ironic." Duo
cursed and fought the bundles of leaves in to some
sort of recognizable shape. When the garland was done,
he lay it beside him and stretched out again, his
hands beside his head. It would be worth it if it
worked, though. Maybe he could get some before they
killed him.
Duo grinned. "Maybe if I catch him alone and bring him
the garland, he'll smile and tell me how thoughtful
and wonderful I am and I can just tell him everything.
I'll say 'You know, Sir, My name isn't really Solo,
and I'm no peasant lad. I'm actually really a nobleman
from a far off land and the only reason I've subjected
myself to servitude for seven years is for the
pleasure of your company. You don't suppose I could
have just one little kiss as a reward for all those
years of faithful service, now do you?" Quatre would
be powerless to resist such a reasonable request,
after all. Duo closed his eyes and puckered up his
lips for fantasy-Quatre. After that one kiss, of
course, things would just fall into place and Quatre
would be his.
Then again, what was entirely more likely was that
Quatre would take the garland, give a small smile, and
look at Duo in that puzzled, slightly condescending
way he usually did when Duo brought him presents -
something like the face one might make while humoring
a harmless madman. Duo frowned and opened his eyes.
Trowa was standing over him, his hands clenched into
fists. "Wait a minute," Duo said, the unexpectedness
of the situation catching him off guard. "I thought
you were still in jail?"
As for Trowa, he had been asleep in a thicket nearby
when he had heard Duo's rambling and gone to
investigate. After lord knew how long locked up in
that tower together, it was not hard for him to
recognize his cousin, despite his disguise and the
years that had passed. His hair was starting to grow
back, and while it only reached his shoulder blades,
it was held neatly in a familiar braid.
Trowa had heard everything that Duo had said, and he
was livid. It was apparent from what he had heard that
Duo had been lying to his beloved for years, and that
he had less than honorable designs on him. Another man
was making plans to seduce his beloved. And now Duo
was just looking up at him in stupid surprise,
completely unapologetic. He could feel himself shaking
with anger. "Traitor!" he cried. "Oath-breaker! Thief
and liar!"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Duo shouted.
His breath was knocked from him a moment later as
Trowa tackled him, grabbing for his throat.
"You know I love him and you're planning to steal him
anyway," Trowa growled. "You promised on your blood
that you would support me when I fell in love and
honor my choice, and you break your word. You've lied
to him for seven years-"
"I had to!" Duo gasped. "It was that or die!" He
managed to flip Trowa off of himself and sprang to his
feet, drawing his sword in one smooth motion and
pressing it to Trowa's throat. His garland lay on the
ground under the other boy, crushed to an unimpressive
tangle of leaves and twigs. "If I didn't think you
were insane," he shouted, "or if you had a weapon with
which to fight me properly, I'd kill you now. I'm done
with being insulted. Any promise that I may have made
is irrelevant, now. I don't care if I'm breaking my
word. I was a kid when I gave it and didn't know what
love was."
"You gave your word," Trowa growled.
"I take it back! This is love, Trowa! It's stronger
than any promise, and it has to have free rein!"
"You will not have him while I live," Trowa swore. "I
won't give up until I am dead or he is mine."
Duo sighed and withdrew his sword. "No. I'm not going
to murder an unarmed man. But it seems like the only
way we can settle this is if one of us is dead. How
about a duel?"
Trowa frowned as he sat up. "I don't have any weapons
or armor."
"I'll provide them," Duo promised. "I have access to
the Lord Treize's armory"
Trowa thought this over for a few minutes and then
nodded. "I accept your terms."
"Good," Duo said. He helped his cousin to his feet.
"I'll meet you here tomorrow at the same time."
Trowa could hear something moving towards him through
the forest, crashing through the brush with all the
thunder that might precede a lion or a bear. During
the night he had built himself a makeshift spear just
in case Duo once again reneged on their agreement. He
held it tightly with both hands, ready for the attack
that he fully expected to be coming.
Cousin or no, Duo was his enemy now. Only one of them
could hold the right to love the fair-haired god of
the garden, but neither of them was at all prepared to
give him up. There was only one solution: one of them
would not leave this grove alive.
Trowa fought, not to possess his beloved, but rather
to keep him safe from /being/ possessed. While Trowa's
love was pure, free from the tangles of lust and
lechery that often ensnare weaker men, Duo's love most
certainly was not. If his cousin were to win the right
to court the young god, Trowa was sure that the poor
boy's virtue would be his prize.
Trowa was not afraid to die. Indeed, the would gladly
die for the honor of his beloved. What he did fear was
that Duo might survive this battle somehow and find a
way to weasel out of this deal, too. It was this fear
that hardened his resolve more than anything else. If
Trowa were destined to die this day, even if he were
damned to hell for murdering his kin, he was not going
to die alone.
The rushing quieted as Duo broke into the clearing.
His charger reared up, striking the air with his
hooves. Before Trowa could react, a sword and shield
were thrown down at his feet, followed a moment later
by a breastplate and helmet. So Duo /had/ kept his
word this time. In a moment, he had exchanged his
rough weaponry for something a bit more skillfully
made.
As for Duo, his resolve was set as well. He had
determined long ago that he would rather die than lose
Quatre to another - and in fact he feared that the
loss itself would kill him. He was very sorry that he
was going to have to kill his cousin, but he knew he
sure as hell wasn't going to die without ever tasting
even one sweet kiss from Quatre's lips - and hopefully
quite a bit more.
With his mouth set in a determined line, he swung down
from Shinigami's back. Pulling his own armor and
weaponry from his saddle, he began dressing in
silence, trying his best to ignore the fact that his
most hated enemy stood just beside him. He had some
difficulty supporting the heavy breastplate and
securing it at the same time. Silently, Trowa helped
him with the awkward piece of armor then turned so
that Duo could return the favor.
This done, both men strapped on their helmets and drew
their weapons. They faced each other from a few paces
away, the tense silence broken only by the sound of a
nearby brook. Both men took a great breath, and then
at a nod from Trowa it began, and both sides rushed
forward with a terrible shout.
"Don't let him get away!" Une shouted, urging her
horse forward and forcing Quatre and his mount into
the bushes as she sped past. "We've already lost the
damned scent twice."
"And my dogs have found him again every time," Treize
said with an indulgent smile. He, too, passed Quatre,
who was still struggling to get free of the bushes.
Difficulty resolved, he spurred his own mount and
raced after the others, still ahead of the rest of the
hunting party.
The royal family was out for a day of sport, chasing a
stag that Treize's hounds had scented early that
morning. He was proving to be an especially tricky
quarry, with all sorts of tricks in his repertoire.
Quatre could recognize one already from the direction
that they were heading. "We'll lose him at the
stream!" he shouted ahead. "We can't catch him before
then and he knows it!"
"The hell we can't," Une muttered. She kicked her
mount hard, jumping him across a felled log without
losing speed. She had dressed for the hunt in a pair
of Quatre's breeches and was riding in a saddle
identical to that of her husband. Quatre had only
occasionally seen the lady riding sidesaddle, and
Treize had confided that the last time he had seen
that particular spectacle, the Lady had fallen from
her horse. As she was, though, she was an excellent
rider, and Quatre was forced to ride hard to catch up
with the couple. When he did, he found them pacing the
banks of a small stream. Treize's hounds were milling
about, confused and dismayed, but determined
nonetheless to find the scent again.
Quatre rode through them and into the water - it was
shallow and would do his mare no harm. From this
vantage point, he scanned the opposite bank for tracks
and broken twigs, trying to block out the baying of
the hounds. "If I were a deer..." He murmured.
"If you were a deer," Treize supplied, "We'd never
catch you. You're far too clever."
"There," Quatre said, pointing. A good 20 feet
upstream, there was a broken stem on their side of the
brook. "He's pretty clever himself, doubling back like
that," he concluded.
"Ha," the Lady said. She wheeled her mount around and
whistled for the hounds before splashing upstream
against the current to the site where the deer had
come ashore. In a moment, they were off again.
Quatre didn't catch up with his cousin again until
they had slowed to keep from spooking the stag. The
Lady had the lead again, her bow drawn. Quatre could
just see tawny brown through the bushes, twitching
slightly with the creature's breath. From her
position, Quatre guessed the Lady had a perfect shot.
But she did not take it.
In a moment, her stance softened from that of a
huntress to that of one not quite certain how a bow
had found its way to her hand. "He's beautiful," she
whispered, her voice so soft the stag found it
unmoving.
Not again, Quatre thought.
A second later, a sharp, ringing sound was heard, as
of metal on metal. The stag lifted its head and
bolted, disappearing again into the brush.
"So much for that," Treize muttered.
"What was that sound?" Quatre asked. When Treize only
shrugged, he started slowly forward. "Why would anyone
be way out here?" he wondered.
"And on my land," Treize said with a sigh. "Lady,
follow us, please."
"Yes, My Lord," the Lady murmured demurely, giving her
horse a gentle tap on the flanks.
As they rode, the clanging sounds came more and more
frequently. Occasionally, human cries could be heard,
though it was heard to determine if they were of pain
or triumph. The party followed the course of the
little stream, easier to navigate than the thickets.
After just a few minutes, Quatre noticed something.
"Look at the water," he whispered, signaling for the
others to be quiet. There were streaks of red staining
the otherwise clear stream.
"Damn it all," Treize muttered. He drew his sword and
moved ahead of Quatre, increasing his pace again. He
motioned for the others to remain where they were and
wait for the rest of the party.
Quatre frowned. "I'm not missing all the excitement,"
he said. With that, he kicked his mount and hurried
off after his cousin.
"Don't leave me," Une whispered. A moment later, he
heard her splashing along after him.
By the time they caught up with Treize, the water
through which they waded was entirely red. It was
clear that some great battle was taking place
upstream. Not long after, the combatants came into
view.
Two young men in shining armor stood in the stream.
They were wet and bedraggled, snarling like animals as
they struck at each other again and again. Blood ran
in rivulets from a dozen heavy wounds, staining the
water a violent red. They waded to the ankles in their
mingled blood, churning it to foam with their passage.
"Enough!" Treize roared. One of the men looked up and
Quatre caught a glimpse of startling green eyes before
man was brought down by a blow to the back of the neck
dealt by the pommel of his opponent's sword. The
green-eyed man fell into the water and dropped his
sword, which he began searching for frantically in the
murky water even as his opponent raised his own weapon
for the killing blow.
Treize's sword deflected that strike. While Quatre's
attention had been locked on the combatants, his
cousin had somehow dismounted and managed to get
between them. "The first of you that moves for his
weapon," he promised, "Gets his head lopped off." He
watched warily as the fallen man pulled himself out of
the water and onto a nearby rock, apparently not
caring for his many wounds. "Who are you," Treize
asked him, "To be fighting like this out here. Dueling
is forbidden in this land without the proper
procedure."
"It doesn't matter who we are," the green-eyed man
said, turning his gaze to Quatre again. He fished his
sword out of the water and handed it, pommel up, to
Treize. "The penalty for dueling is death to both
parties, correct?"
Quatre blinked at the intensity of that stare. The man
looked unbelievably pained. Quatre watched as the man
removed his helmet, revealing a delicately handsome
face and auburn hair, thick with sweat, that stuck out
at a strange angle.
The sight of the stricken man was beginning to make
Quatre's heart ache. He turned his eyes away, seeking
relief, only to find himself caught by another,
similarly intense stare. This second young man was
staring at him like a man starved, and Quatre himself
the first morsel of food he had seen in days. Quatre
felt a twinge of recognition, but he couldn't place
the man's face, obscured as it was by his helmet and
the blood that covered him from head to toe.
What the hell was going on here?
"I'll know your names first," Treize said. "And you
will tell me now."
"And I've told you already that it doesn't matter.
We've broken the law and you should kill us both or
let us finish killing each other. You can kill me
first, if you like," the man with the green eyes said.
He pulled loose his breastplate and let it fall into
the water before touching his fingertips to the front
of his throat. "As long as you kill my opponent as
well. I would rest easier, though, if you were to kill
him first. I don't like the idea of his outliving me."
Treize prepared to speak again, obviously growing
increasingly frustrated with all this chatter. The
green-eyed man interrupted him, though.
"Take off your helmet, cousin," he said, turning to
his opponent who stood on the opposite bank. "Now
isn't the time for secrets, after all."
The other man's eyes were still fixed on Quatre with
that hungry stare. For a brief moment, he turned his
eyes to glare at his opponent before looking back to
Quatre again. The longer Quatre looked at him, the
more certain he became that he knew the man somehow.
"I've never known you to be so silent," the green-eyed
man said with a malicious grin. "Afraid you'll give
yourself away?"
"Shut up."
Quatre's eyes widened when he heard that voice.
"Solo?"
Treize spun around, and pointed his sword at the man
on the bank. "Take that helmet off, boy."
'Solo' ignored this order and instead lunged past
Treize at his opponent with renewed fury, only barely
missing impaling him on his blade.
"Not Solo!" The green-eyed boy shouted in triumph as
he rolled out of the way and behind Treize's horse.
"Duo of Sanq, banished from this land years ago."
"Traitor!" Duo roared. He rushed at him again only to
be struck down by the flat of Treize's sword and
landed, coughing, in the bloody water. He was forced
to rip off his helmet or risk drowning, unable to
expel the fluid from his lungs. Quatre drew back from
the fury blazing in his eyes.
"He's been living in your house for years, hiding his
identity, lying to you every day, all out of the evil
designs he holds on My Lord," the man swore, turning
again to Quatre, this time with a bow.
"Me!?" Quatre squeaked. He jerked hard on the reigns
to force his horse away from the man who was advancing
on him, now, stumbling as he came.
"And I am Trowa, who escaped from the castle tower
only yesterday," the man confessed. "I've watched you
for years, My Lord. I lost my heart to you when I was
only a child." He reached with one bloody hand to
touch the hem of Quatre's coat. "Your beauty-"
"That's enough," Treize said, grabbing Trowa by the
arm and jerking him backward. Trowa cried out in pain,
but went compliantly. Quatre looked to Solo - no, Duo,
who sat now on the bank with his helmet in his hands,
looking forlorn.
"By your own confession," Treize continued. "You are
both guilty of serious crimes. Kneel."
Trowa immediately dropped to his knees and bowed his
head, though his eyes remained fixed on Quatre. Duo,
however, tensed as he prepared for action.
"Don't kill them!" the Lady Une cried. Until now, she
had been overcome by all the blood. The promise of
more, though, was what prompted her to action. "My
Lord, please - they aren't in their right minds; love
has made them mad! You can't kill them over a crime of
passion." There were tears in her eyes, and Quatre
could feel a lump forming in his own throat.
He was a kind young man, and did not like to see
anything or anyone suffer if there was no need. He
felt, also, in some strange way, that if these two men
were to be killed, it would be his fault and his
alone. Whatever he had done to ignite this fervor in
two strangers had brought them to this point.
"Treize," he said softly, "The Lady is right. Love
makes people do strange things. I can't pretend to
understand any of this, though, or to know why they
picked me out of all the people in the world to go mad
over, but mad they are. Madmen often receive special
treatment under the law, do they not?"
Treize looked first at one man and then the other.
Quatre could tell that he was wavering.
"They fought valiantly," he reminded him. "And this
one," he gestured to Trowa, "Did surrender."
"True," Treize murmured. He thought for a moment, then
sheathed his sword. "When I was your age and in love,
I went to war to win my bride." He looked to Une, who
smiled down at him benignly from her horse. " I do
understand the force behind all this. It's only fair
that I give you a chance to settle this."
"Yes!" Duo crowed, punching the air.
"And I think I know the perfect way to do just that
without anyone having to die."
"Wonderful!" Quatre said with a smile. "How?"
"I'll give each of you fifty weeks to raise an army of
100 men," he said to Duo and Trowa. "At the end of
that time, you will return here for a great battle
game. The object will be to capture the enemy rather
than kill him, and the first captain taken to the
stake or wounded too gravely to continue will be the
loser."
"That sounds perfect," Quatre said.
"And the victor will have Quatre's hand," Treize
finished, quite obviously proud of his solution.
"What?" Quatre cried. "I didn't agree to that!"
"Well, you're what they're fighting over, aren't you?"
"But-"
"We agree to your terms," Duo said. Trowa rose to his
feet again and nodded. "Winner takes all."
"Now wait a minute!" Quatre shouted. He didn't like
the sound of that "takes all" part one bit. It was too
late, though - the rest of the party chose that moment
to arrive and Treize immediately began telling them
all about his brilliant idea.
Quatre looked around in despair. His 'suitors' had
already disappeared into the woods from which they had
come. He would not see them again for fifty weeks.
There was no way to talk them out of it.
"How in Tartarus did I get roped into this?" he
muttered.
TBC
Heh heh heh... Think things are a mess now? Just wait
until the next chapter, when the Gods decide to get
involved...
Bandai) and Chaucer's "The Knight's Tale," a part of
his Canterbury Tales (property of nobody in
particular, as Chaucer's been dead for quite some
time). If this strikes you as particularly
melodramatic - good. It's supposed to. That's what the
real thing is like, after all. The anachronisms, too,
are intentional. Chaucer's Greeks rode around the
countryside hunting like Englishmen and dressed like
French gentlemen *shrugs* so don't be surprised if
mine do the same thing. If parts of this seem a little
silly, that's because no one but Chaucer could
possibly write something like this and have it be
perfectly serious; I know my limits as a writer and
didn't even try.
Title: Strif and Jalousye
Chapter: Chapter Three (3/5)
Pairings: 3+4 and 2+4, with other stuff mixed in
(mostly 13x11 and 13x5)
Warnings: Melodrama, violence, angst, death, and much
Quatre-worshiping. I'm also issuing a warning for
weird, dry, ironic humor. D...This ain't a story for
you (but I think we discussed this ages ago while I
was writing it the first time around).
+ + + + + + + + + + + +
Chapter Three
Duo bent low over the neck of his horse and urged him
onward, his hands clenched in his dark mane. He'd
'liberated' the slender black charger from the stables
for the afternoon and taken the opportunity to get in
a bit of riding. It was the sort of thing he could get
away with, now. In the years he had worked at Treize's
estate, his devotion to his job (which mostly
consisted of pleasing Quatre), had been noted, and he
had been promoted several times. He was now the chief
squire of the household and oversaw most of the day to
day running of the place - things that the Lady Une
could not be bothered with. Though he missed the
contact he one had with Quatre, he knew that in such
an elevated position he had a greater chance of
actually catching his fancy.
The rest of the servants - the entire household,
actually - were building up piles of wood for bonfires
and preparing a feast for the festival that would
start when the sun went down.
May Day tended to be the servants' favorite holiday.
Then again, they were likely to leap at any chance to
get rip-roaringly drunk and dance around bonfires all
night. It was a fertility celebration, after all. Most
of the actual festivities revolved around finding
someone who looked good in the firelight and was just
as drunk as you were to drag off into the bushes for a
bit of a romp. Duo could certainly understand the
appeal in that. However, he had no interest in the
laundry maids and sculleries who would be sure to try
and coax him away from the fire during the night. Even
the stable hand who had helped him sneak Shinigami out
for the day was of no interest to him, though the boy
was certainly handsome and friendly enough and had
made a point of asking if Duo would be at the fires
that night.
Duo only had one person on his mind - one perfectly
beautiful, perfectly sexy, perfectly unattainable
person with eyes like the sky and hair like the sun.
Duo pulled back on the reigns and clicked his tongue
at Shini as he thought of Quatre. The word among the
servants was that Quatre wasn't coming to the
celebration. Though it wasn't considered seemly for
the lords or ladies of a household to gad about in the
fields with the commoners, most did it anyway. Quatre
was the exception. He hadn't been to see the fires
since he was too young to participate in the more
'grown-up' revelries.
Quatre tended to keep to himself, much to Duo's
consternation. He stayed in his rooms all day, except
for the hour or so a day he spent wandering in the
gardens. Things generally seemed to be just as the
guard had told him, years ago, while bodily dragging
him from the premises - Quatre had no desire for
companionship and even less desire for romance. Duo
had learned since then that Quatre was here for
fostering with his cousin, Treize, and missed his
family a great deal. Duo had spent a few blessed
months working as his chamberlain and had in that time
noticed that the boy seemed a little off-kilter at
times. He would mope about in his rooms painting
desolate landscapes or playing heart wrenching songs
on his violin. In short, Quatre was lonely and
depressed.
The logical thing to do seemed to be to befriend the
boy. Unfortunately, this wasn't working at all. Quatre
seemed to /prefer/ being alone.
Duo sighed and dropped off his horse to the grass.
There was probably some kind of cosmic law against
someone as gorgeous as Quatre being lonely. It just
seemed...unnatural, somehow, for all of that to go to
waste. Creamy skin, soft pink lips, silken hair, a
smile to die for... Duo couldn't understand why the
gods would put a face like that with a heart so cold.
Or an ass like that. He grinned and stretched out on
the ground. More than once he'd considered just
jumping the boy in some remote part of the garden and
having his wicked way with him. Though it was an
interesting fantasy, it certainly wasn't something he
could ever see himself doing. In his dreams, Quatre
was always willing. The idea of rape was appalling to
Duo - he'd seen far too much of it on the battlefield
when he was young for it to hold any appeal to him
now. He wanted to see Quatre's face contorted in
pleasure, not in pain.
Truthfully, as madly in lust with Quatre as he was, he
wanted his heart as much as he wanted his body. Sure,
he would settle for a romp in the hay if it was
coming, but as long as he was dreaming, he might as
well dream big.
Duo released Shinigami's reins and wandered deeper
into the woods. He'd come out here to get a little
peace and quiet while he pondered his situation in
regard to his beloved. As often as he tried, he could
never think of a plausible way to win the boy over. He
thought he was on the right track, anyway. Quatre
could at least remember his name most of the time, and
sometimes he smiled when Duo gave him presents.
Presents! There was an idea. Duo had already tried, of
course, buying the boy things with the salary he got
from Treize and the rent he was receiving, discreetly,
from his properties in Sanq. Money didn't seem to
impress him one bit, though. It was hardly a surprise,
considering what a rich family he came from, that he
wouldn't think twice about the wealth of a mere
servant. But at the moment Duo had thought about
gifts, he had crossed into a grove filled with
woodbine and hawthorne. Duo remembered from his
gardener days that there wasn't much of either on the
palace grounds, and one thing that Quatre always loved
were plants and flowers. Wreathes and garlands of
greens were a traditional way to celebrate the
beginning of May, as well, and so the idea seemed
perfect. Duo started putting together bundles of the
stuff and then lay down on his back to put the thing
together.
"Who am I kidding," Duo muttered. as he struggled with
the stems. "Look at me. I'm a prince in line for the
throne and where am I? Sitting in the dirt and making
garlands for a boy who thinks I'm nothing but a lowly
peasant servant. I wouldn't have any kind of chance
with him unless we were at the same station, which we
really are, only I can't tell him because if I did I'd
get my head chopped off and presented to that Amazon
lady on a silver platter. Just a /bit/ ironic." Duo
cursed and fought the bundles of leaves in to some
sort of recognizable shape. When the garland was done,
he lay it beside him and stretched out again, his
hands beside his head. It would be worth it if it
worked, though. Maybe he could get some before they
killed him.
Duo grinned. "Maybe if I catch him alone and bring him
the garland, he'll smile and tell me how thoughtful
and wonderful I am and I can just tell him everything.
I'll say 'You know, Sir, My name isn't really Solo,
and I'm no peasant lad. I'm actually really a nobleman
from a far off land and the only reason I've subjected
myself to servitude for seven years is for the
pleasure of your company. You don't suppose I could
have just one little kiss as a reward for all those
years of faithful service, now do you?" Quatre would
be powerless to resist such a reasonable request,
after all. Duo closed his eyes and puckered up his
lips for fantasy-Quatre. After that one kiss, of
course, things would just fall into place and Quatre
would be his.
Then again, what was entirely more likely was that
Quatre would take the garland, give a small smile, and
look at Duo in that puzzled, slightly condescending
way he usually did when Duo brought him presents -
something like the face one might make while humoring
a harmless madman. Duo frowned and opened his eyes.
Trowa was standing over him, his hands clenched into
fists. "Wait a minute," Duo said, the unexpectedness
of the situation catching him off guard. "I thought
you were still in jail?"
As for Trowa, he had been asleep in a thicket nearby
when he had heard Duo's rambling and gone to
investigate. After lord knew how long locked up in
that tower together, it was not hard for him to
recognize his cousin, despite his disguise and the
years that had passed. His hair was starting to grow
back, and while it only reached his shoulder blades,
it was held neatly in a familiar braid.
Trowa had heard everything that Duo had said, and he
was livid. It was apparent from what he had heard that
Duo had been lying to his beloved for years, and that
he had less than honorable designs on him. Another man
was making plans to seduce his beloved. And now Duo
was just looking up at him in stupid surprise,
completely unapologetic. He could feel himself shaking
with anger. "Traitor!" he cried. "Oath-breaker! Thief
and liar!"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Duo shouted.
His breath was knocked from him a moment later as
Trowa tackled him, grabbing for his throat.
"You know I love him and you're planning to steal him
anyway," Trowa growled. "You promised on your blood
that you would support me when I fell in love and
honor my choice, and you break your word. You've lied
to him for seven years-"
"I had to!" Duo gasped. "It was that or die!" He
managed to flip Trowa off of himself and sprang to his
feet, drawing his sword in one smooth motion and
pressing it to Trowa's throat. His garland lay on the
ground under the other boy, crushed to an unimpressive
tangle of leaves and twigs. "If I didn't think you
were insane," he shouted, "or if you had a weapon with
which to fight me properly, I'd kill you now. I'm done
with being insulted. Any promise that I may have made
is irrelevant, now. I don't care if I'm breaking my
word. I was a kid when I gave it and didn't know what
love was."
"You gave your word," Trowa growled.
"I take it back! This is love, Trowa! It's stronger
than any promise, and it has to have free rein!"
"You will not have him while I live," Trowa swore. "I
won't give up until I am dead or he is mine."
Duo sighed and withdrew his sword. "No. I'm not going
to murder an unarmed man. But it seems like the only
way we can settle this is if one of us is dead. How
about a duel?"
Trowa frowned as he sat up. "I don't have any weapons
or armor."
"I'll provide them," Duo promised. "I have access to
the Lord Treize's armory"
Trowa thought this over for a few minutes and then
nodded. "I accept your terms."
"Good," Duo said. He helped his cousin to his feet.
"I'll meet you here tomorrow at the same time."
Trowa could hear something moving towards him through
the forest, crashing through the brush with all the
thunder that might precede a lion or a bear. During
the night he had built himself a makeshift spear just
in case Duo once again reneged on their agreement. He
held it tightly with both hands, ready for the attack
that he fully expected to be coming.
Cousin or no, Duo was his enemy now. Only one of them
could hold the right to love the fair-haired god of
the garden, but neither of them was at all prepared to
give him up. There was only one solution: one of them
would not leave this grove alive.
Trowa fought, not to possess his beloved, but rather
to keep him safe from /being/ possessed. While Trowa's
love was pure, free from the tangles of lust and
lechery that often ensnare weaker men, Duo's love most
certainly was not. If his cousin were to win the right
to court the young god, Trowa was sure that the poor
boy's virtue would be his prize.
Trowa was not afraid to die. Indeed, the would gladly
die for the honor of his beloved. What he did fear was
that Duo might survive this battle somehow and find a
way to weasel out of this deal, too. It was this fear
that hardened his resolve more than anything else. If
Trowa were destined to die this day, even if he were
damned to hell for murdering his kin, he was not going
to die alone.
The rushing quieted as Duo broke into the clearing.
His charger reared up, striking the air with his
hooves. Before Trowa could react, a sword and shield
were thrown down at his feet, followed a moment later
by a breastplate and helmet. So Duo /had/ kept his
word this time. In a moment, he had exchanged his
rough weaponry for something a bit more skillfully
made.
As for Duo, his resolve was set as well. He had
determined long ago that he would rather die than lose
Quatre to another - and in fact he feared that the
loss itself would kill him. He was very sorry that he
was going to have to kill his cousin, but he knew he
sure as hell wasn't going to die without ever tasting
even one sweet kiss from Quatre's lips - and hopefully
quite a bit more.
With his mouth set in a determined line, he swung down
from Shinigami's back. Pulling his own armor and
weaponry from his saddle, he began dressing in
silence, trying his best to ignore the fact that his
most hated enemy stood just beside him. He had some
difficulty supporting the heavy breastplate and
securing it at the same time. Silently, Trowa helped
him with the awkward piece of armor then turned so
that Duo could return the favor.
This done, both men strapped on their helmets and drew
their weapons. They faced each other from a few paces
away, the tense silence broken only by the sound of a
nearby brook. Both men took a great breath, and then
at a nod from Trowa it began, and both sides rushed
forward with a terrible shout.
"Don't let him get away!" Une shouted, urging her
horse forward and forcing Quatre and his mount into
the bushes as she sped past. "We've already lost the
damned scent twice."
"And my dogs have found him again every time," Treize
said with an indulgent smile. He, too, passed Quatre,
who was still struggling to get free of the bushes.
Difficulty resolved, he spurred his own mount and
raced after the others, still ahead of the rest of the
hunting party.
The royal family was out for a day of sport, chasing a
stag that Treize's hounds had scented early that
morning. He was proving to be an especially tricky
quarry, with all sorts of tricks in his repertoire.
Quatre could recognize one already from the direction
that they were heading. "We'll lose him at the
stream!" he shouted ahead. "We can't catch him before
then and he knows it!"
"The hell we can't," Une muttered. She kicked her
mount hard, jumping him across a felled log without
losing speed. She had dressed for the hunt in a pair
of Quatre's breeches and was riding in a saddle
identical to that of her husband. Quatre had only
occasionally seen the lady riding sidesaddle, and
Treize had confided that the last time he had seen
that particular spectacle, the Lady had fallen from
her horse. As she was, though, she was an excellent
rider, and Quatre was forced to ride hard to catch up
with the couple. When he did, he found them pacing the
banks of a small stream. Treize's hounds were milling
about, confused and dismayed, but determined
nonetheless to find the scent again.
Quatre rode through them and into the water - it was
shallow and would do his mare no harm. From this
vantage point, he scanned the opposite bank for tracks
and broken twigs, trying to block out the baying of
the hounds. "If I were a deer..." He murmured.
"If you were a deer," Treize supplied, "We'd never
catch you. You're far too clever."
"There," Quatre said, pointing. A good 20 feet
upstream, there was a broken stem on their side of the
brook. "He's pretty clever himself, doubling back like
that," he concluded.
"Ha," the Lady said. She wheeled her mount around and
whistled for the hounds before splashing upstream
against the current to the site where the deer had
come ashore. In a moment, they were off again.
Quatre didn't catch up with his cousin again until
they had slowed to keep from spooking the stag. The
Lady had the lead again, her bow drawn. Quatre could
just see tawny brown through the bushes, twitching
slightly with the creature's breath. From her
position, Quatre guessed the Lady had a perfect shot.
But she did not take it.
In a moment, her stance softened from that of a
huntress to that of one not quite certain how a bow
had found its way to her hand. "He's beautiful," she
whispered, her voice so soft the stag found it
unmoving.
Not again, Quatre thought.
A second later, a sharp, ringing sound was heard, as
of metal on metal. The stag lifted its head and
bolted, disappearing again into the brush.
"So much for that," Treize muttered.
"What was that sound?" Quatre asked. When Treize only
shrugged, he started slowly forward. "Why would anyone
be way out here?" he wondered.
"And on my land," Treize said with a sigh. "Lady,
follow us, please."
"Yes, My Lord," the Lady murmured demurely, giving her
horse a gentle tap on the flanks.
As they rode, the clanging sounds came more and more
frequently. Occasionally, human cries could be heard,
though it was heard to determine if they were of pain
or triumph. The party followed the course of the
little stream, easier to navigate than the thickets.
After just a few minutes, Quatre noticed something.
"Look at the water," he whispered, signaling for the
others to be quiet. There were streaks of red staining
the otherwise clear stream.
"Damn it all," Treize muttered. He drew his sword and
moved ahead of Quatre, increasing his pace again. He
motioned for the others to remain where they were and
wait for the rest of the party.
Quatre frowned. "I'm not missing all the excitement,"
he said. With that, he kicked his mount and hurried
off after his cousin.
"Don't leave me," Une whispered. A moment later, he
heard her splashing along after him.
By the time they caught up with Treize, the water
through which they waded was entirely red. It was
clear that some great battle was taking place
upstream. Not long after, the combatants came into
view.
Two young men in shining armor stood in the stream.
They were wet and bedraggled, snarling like animals as
they struck at each other again and again. Blood ran
in rivulets from a dozen heavy wounds, staining the
water a violent red. They waded to the ankles in their
mingled blood, churning it to foam with their passage.
"Enough!" Treize roared. One of the men looked up and
Quatre caught a glimpse of startling green eyes before
man was brought down by a blow to the back of the neck
dealt by the pommel of his opponent's sword. The
green-eyed man fell into the water and dropped his
sword, which he began searching for frantically in the
murky water even as his opponent raised his own weapon
for the killing blow.
Treize's sword deflected that strike. While Quatre's
attention had been locked on the combatants, his
cousin had somehow dismounted and managed to get
between them. "The first of you that moves for his
weapon," he promised, "Gets his head lopped off." He
watched warily as the fallen man pulled himself out of
the water and onto a nearby rock, apparently not
caring for his many wounds. "Who are you," Treize
asked him, "To be fighting like this out here. Dueling
is forbidden in this land without the proper
procedure."
"It doesn't matter who we are," the green-eyed man
said, turning his gaze to Quatre again. He fished his
sword out of the water and handed it, pommel up, to
Treize. "The penalty for dueling is death to both
parties, correct?"
Quatre blinked at the intensity of that stare. The man
looked unbelievably pained. Quatre watched as the man
removed his helmet, revealing a delicately handsome
face and auburn hair, thick with sweat, that stuck out
at a strange angle.
The sight of the stricken man was beginning to make
Quatre's heart ache. He turned his eyes away, seeking
relief, only to find himself caught by another,
similarly intense stare. This second young man was
staring at him like a man starved, and Quatre himself
the first morsel of food he had seen in days. Quatre
felt a twinge of recognition, but he couldn't place
the man's face, obscured as it was by his helmet and
the blood that covered him from head to toe.
What the hell was going on here?
"I'll know your names first," Treize said. "And you
will tell me now."
"And I've told you already that it doesn't matter.
We've broken the law and you should kill us both or
let us finish killing each other. You can kill me
first, if you like," the man with the green eyes said.
He pulled loose his breastplate and let it fall into
the water before touching his fingertips to the front
of his throat. "As long as you kill my opponent as
well. I would rest easier, though, if you were to kill
him first. I don't like the idea of his outliving me."
Treize prepared to speak again, obviously growing
increasingly frustrated with all this chatter. The
green-eyed man interrupted him, though.
"Take off your helmet, cousin," he said, turning to
his opponent who stood on the opposite bank. "Now
isn't the time for secrets, after all."
The other man's eyes were still fixed on Quatre with
that hungry stare. For a brief moment, he turned his
eyes to glare at his opponent before looking back to
Quatre again. The longer Quatre looked at him, the
more certain he became that he knew the man somehow.
"I've never known you to be so silent," the green-eyed
man said with a malicious grin. "Afraid you'll give
yourself away?"
"Shut up."
Quatre's eyes widened when he heard that voice.
"Solo?"
Treize spun around, and pointed his sword at the man
on the bank. "Take that helmet off, boy."
'Solo' ignored this order and instead lunged past
Treize at his opponent with renewed fury, only barely
missing impaling him on his blade.
"Not Solo!" The green-eyed boy shouted in triumph as
he rolled out of the way and behind Treize's horse.
"Duo of Sanq, banished from this land years ago."
"Traitor!" Duo roared. He rushed at him again only to
be struck down by the flat of Treize's sword and
landed, coughing, in the bloody water. He was forced
to rip off his helmet or risk drowning, unable to
expel the fluid from his lungs. Quatre drew back from
the fury blazing in his eyes.
"He's been living in your house for years, hiding his
identity, lying to you every day, all out of the evil
designs he holds on My Lord," the man swore, turning
again to Quatre, this time with a bow.
"Me!?" Quatre squeaked. He jerked hard on the reigns
to force his horse away from the man who was advancing
on him, now, stumbling as he came.
"And I am Trowa, who escaped from the castle tower
only yesterday," the man confessed. "I've watched you
for years, My Lord. I lost my heart to you when I was
only a child." He reached with one bloody hand to
touch the hem of Quatre's coat. "Your beauty-"
"That's enough," Treize said, grabbing Trowa by the
arm and jerking him backward. Trowa cried out in pain,
but went compliantly. Quatre looked to Solo - no, Duo,
who sat now on the bank with his helmet in his hands,
looking forlorn.
"By your own confession," Treize continued. "You are
both guilty of serious crimes. Kneel."
Trowa immediately dropped to his knees and bowed his
head, though his eyes remained fixed on Quatre. Duo,
however, tensed as he prepared for action.
"Don't kill them!" the Lady Une cried. Until now, she
had been overcome by all the blood. The promise of
more, though, was what prompted her to action. "My
Lord, please - they aren't in their right minds; love
has made them mad! You can't kill them over a crime of
passion." There were tears in her eyes, and Quatre
could feel a lump forming in his own throat.
He was a kind young man, and did not like to see
anything or anyone suffer if there was no need. He
felt, also, in some strange way, that if these two men
were to be killed, it would be his fault and his
alone. Whatever he had done to ignite this fervor in
two strangers had brought them to this point.
"Treize," he said softly, "The Lady is right. Love
makes people do strange things. I can't pretend to
understand any of this, though, or to know why they
picked me out of all the people in the world to go mad
over, but mad they are. Madmen often receive special
treatment under the law, do they not?"
Treize looked first at one man and then the other.
Quatre could tell that he was wavering.
"They fought valiantly," he reminded him. "And this
one," he gestured to Trowa, "Did surrender."
"True," Treize murmured. He thought for a moment, then
sheathed his sword. "When I was your age and in love,
I went to war to win my bride." He looked to Une, who
smiled down at him benignly from her horse. " I do
understand the force behind all this. It's only fair
that I give you a chance to settle this."
"Yes!" Duo crowed, punching the air.
"And I think I know the perfect way to do just that
without anyone having to die."
"Wonderful!" Quatre said with a smile. "How?"
"I'll give each of you fifty weeks to raise an army of
100 men," he said to Duo and Trowa. "At the end of
that time, you will return here for a great battle
game. The object will be to capture the enemy rather
than kill him, and the first captain taken to the
stake or wounded too gravely to continue will be the
loser."
"That sounds perfect," Quatre said.
"And the victor will have Quatre's hand," Treize
finished, quite obviously proud of his solution.
"What?" Quatre cried. "I didn't agree to that!"
"Well, you're what they're fighting over, aren't you?"
"But-"
"We agree to your terms," Duo said. Trowa rose to his
feet again and nodded. "Winner takes all."
"Now wait a minute!" Quatre shouted. He didn't like
the sound of that "takes all" part one bit. It was too
late, though - the rest of the party chose that moment
to arrive and Treize immediately began telling them
all about his brilliant idea.
Quatre looked around in despair. His 'suitors' had
already disappeared into the woods from which they had
come. He would not see them again for fifty weeks.
There was no way to talk them out of it.
"How in Tartarus did I get roped into this?" he
muttered.
TBC
Heh heh heh... Think things are a mess now? Just wait
until the next chapter, when the Gods decide to get
involved...