Title: Fairy Tales

Author: R.L.N.

Keywords: Romance, A/U

Spoilers: None.

Summary: Quatre is the son of an ailing Duke, and while he is out retrieving medicine for his father, he catches the eye of a bride scout for the Prince of Barton. Quatre is invited to a ball in honor of the Prince's return from visiting another kingdom.

Rating: G (Fluff)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by their original creators. No money is being made and no infringement is intended.

Fairy Tales

Quatre Winner carefully balanced a tray of drinks while he opened the door to his father's bedroom. He entered quietly as his father looked up from the book he was reading.

"Ah, thank you Quatre," Duke Winner said, setting down the book. Quatre just smiled and poured a cup of tea before going to the windows and opening them, letting in fresh air and sunlight.

"…Quatre, I need to speak with you," the Duke said, and Quatre sat down on the bed next to him.

"What's the matter?" Quatre asked, tilting his head slightly.

The Duke sighed. "I'm afraid of what will happen to you once I die. There's hardly any money left, everything that can be spared has been sold. All the slaves and servants are gone, and I don't want the burden of taking care of this estate to fall on you so harshly."

Quatre opened his mouth to speak, but the Duke raised his hand. "All you have is your title, inherited from mine after I leave you. I've decided that once I pass on, the kingdom will buy the estate and give you all the money. You can then use it to build up what I have lost in my time of illness. I'm sorry to just drop this on you, but I fear time is growing short."

"Time is always short, Father," Quatre said, rising. "I trust you in deciding what is best for me. I'll be back soon, I need to retrieve another bottle of elixir for you."

The Duke nodded, and Quatre made his way out of the bedroom and down to the foyer. He swallowed his tears and retrieved his coat and boots, putting them on before leaving the mansion.

It was a several mile walk to the village where the medicine woman lived, and Quatre tried not to brood as he walked. He knew his father was just trying to do what was best, but Quatre had no talent or skills in trading or bartering. He was a musician, a melodic artist apparent with his fair features, light blond hair and strikingly blue eyes and slight build. He could create a fortune in music, but he had no idea how to start. Lost in his thoughts, he approached the village with a start, his feet walking him while his mind wandered.

The medicine woman's home was on a hill deep within the village. It was closed and dark, but there was a bottle by the door, and Quatre noticed his name on it. The small note simply said his name, and Quatre took it and placed it carefully in his small carrying bag underneath his vest. As he was leaving the village, a commotion arose from the open saloon, where many men came to drink. He glanced over as a well-dressed young man was thrown from the doors, sprawling into the dirt.

"You shu'up 'bout my girl!" a drunk shouted, pointing at the man. "She iznit goin' wif you an'where!"

The saloon doors swung shut, and the young man was struggling to his feet. Quatre walked over and offered his hand in assistance.

"Thank you, sir," the young man said, dusting himself off. "That's very kind of you."

"Of course," Quatre said, beginning to walk off.

"…Wait a moment," the young man said, and opened his bag and handed Quatre and envelope. "This is for you, for my gratitude."

Quatre took the envelope, and with a smile and a tilt of his hat, the young man turned and walked off. Quatre noticed a long braid before turning and continuing his walk home. Once he arrived and had given his father his medicine, he finally sat down in the kitchen and opened the envelope.

'Dear lovely guest,

This is a formal invitation to a masquerade ball in honor of the Prince of Barton's return to the kingdom. Please wear your best costumes and prepare for a night of dancing and entertainment, and please wear the enclosed colored band. Thank you.'

Quatre turned the page over, and saw a violet band and the date and time of the ball. He only had a few nights before it was time, and he suddenly smiled. Maybe he could meet someone who would be able to help him start his music fortune. He quickly ran upstairs and into the attic, looking for something to help him get ready.

The night of the ball approached faster than Quatre expected. His costume was ready and waiting for him on his bed. Quatre bid good night to his father, who merely nodded before falling asleep. Quatre worried, but didn't have much time before he had to leave. He was paying the neighbor boy to take him in a carriage, and the boy would be there soon.

Quatre dressed in his costume, and wore his father's cloak over it, obscuring it from any dust that may reach it, or view that may see it. His mask was tucked inside the folds, and he heard the carriage pull up as he stood looking at himself in the foyer mirror.

"You look really lovely Lord Winner," Francis said, opening the door to the carriage.

"Thank you, Mr. Francis," Quatre smiled. "For your compliment, and escorting me to the palace."

"I've always wanted to see it," Francis grinned, and they were quickly on their way.

It was a long time before they reached the palace gates, and Francis showed the guards the invitation at the gates, and they were let in without a fuss. Francis would wait with the other horses and carriages, and he waited for the door to open.

"Lord Winner, you can get out now," Francis said.

Quatre took a deep breath, took off the cloak and secured his mask. He opened the door and climbed out, noticing Francis' jaw drop open as he gawked.

"Do I look bad?" Quatre asked, nervous.

"You look perfect," Francis breathed, and Quatre smiled before walking up the palace steps. People would pause and look at him as the guests all made their ways into the enormous ballroom. Quatre noticed all the guests wore the same type of band, but many if not all had them tied on their wrists. He also noticed many were a light pink color. Quatre had used his as part of his costume, and he wondered if he should have just simply tied it on like everyone else when he was approached by a dark hooded figure.

"We meet again," the dark figure said, and the hood was pushed back to reveal the young man who had given Quatre the invitation. "I'm pleased you made it. And also that my selection of who to invite is by far the best looking here."

Quatre blushed behind his mask, and the young man led him through the ballroom to stand by the wall. "My name is Duo," the young man introduced himself. "I'm an assistant to the Prince himself."

"…My name is Quatre," Quatre introduced. "Duo…How did you know it was me?"

Duo grinned. "All the bands are different colors to show who had invited whom. To be honest, I only invited you. Everyone I saw afterwards couldn't compare. So I was waiting ever since the gates opened for you."

"…And it's okay my band isn't on my wrist?" Quatre asked, fingering the band on his head.

"That's actually a test," Duo whispered. "Only the most creative people would have used it as part of their costume."

Quatre smiled, and Duo grinned before bowing and taking his leave. Quatre was content to simply stand there, but a gentleman approached him and asked him to dance. The music had been playing ever since the guests had arrived, and it wasn't long before many began dancing. Quatre accepted, and followed the gentleman in a lively waltz. The number ended, and before Quatre could escape someone asked to cut in. Quatre bowed, and continued to dance. He finished that dance only to be asked again and, after the next ended, again. Quatre was growing tired, and once the song ended he gently but firmly turned down the next partner and made his way off the floor.

He sat down at one of the tables surrounding the ballroom, and was soon joined by a young woman who sent her partner off for a drink. They talked for a bit, and after a while several people joined the table. The talk was about politics for a while, until someone mentioned music. Quatre then joined the conversation, and began a discussion with one of the guests. He was enjoying his time, and mentioned he thought about starting a fortune in music.

"I heard the Prince is a musician," a woman said, and people leaned in closer. "But not many people know that. It doesn't suit a Prince."

"Music can suit any person," Quatre said quietly. "That's the beauty of music. There really is something for everyone. I'm certain there is not a single person who claims to dislike music."

"Pah!" one man scoffed. "I admit I enjoy a pleasant tune, but I can't imagine everyone playing a musical instrument. Especially a Prince, he should be out doing other things."

"Like finding a wife?" one woman giggled. "I heard this was to find a woman for the Prince to marry."

"Now that is a ridiculous claim," the first woman said, shaking her head. "I know all kinds of rumors and tidbits, and that's not one of them."

The women started arguing, and Quatre quietly excused himself and rose from the table. The clock was striking eleven, and he made his way out of the crowded and noisy ballroom, nearly running into a guard.

"Commoners are to stay in the ballroom," the guard said flatly, and Quatre bit his lip nervously.

"Um, where is the washroom?" Quatre asked, slightly embarrassed. He was hoping to find it without any trouble.

The guard sighed. "I told them it would be an issue. Is the other one full?"

Quatre had no idea, but simply nodded, and the guard pointed down the hall. "Several doors down, the one with the green window."

Quatre nodded again, thanked the guard and went down the hallway. He found the door and pushed it open, glancing up to see the guard still eyeing him suspiciously. He quickly entered the washroom and the door closed.

It was empty, and Quatre sighed with relief. He went to the mirror and straightened his costume, the loose leggings twisting around uncomfortably. At first he thought his costume was too feminine. He created it in the image of a woodland fairy he had seen in a book once before. His violet band was wrapped around his head, and he had extended the ends to go down to his back, where soft wings were folded down. He pulled the ends of the band and his wings pulled up. He smiled lightly, gently let them fall again, and after a moment more he opened the door and went back towards the ballroom. The guard wasn't standing by the door, and Quatre quickly found out why. There was a commotion in the ballroom, and Quatre entered to see what was the matter.

The two women that were arguing before at the table Quatre was sitting at had escalated their heated words into a fight, and the guards were trying to break it up. Quatre moved to get a closer look and to hear what was being said better, but the guards managed to break the women apart and the crowd began dispersing. Someone bumped backwards into Quatre, and he nearly fell over if someone hadn't caught him. He felt strong arms around his waist, and was gently lead to the edge of the room where it was safer.

"Thank you," Quatre said, and looked up to see who had assisted him. He was young, and a bright green eye showed through his mask. The other was hidden behind his hair.

"…It's no trouble," the young man said, and Quatre smiled.

"…Are you enjoying yourself tonight?" the young man asked, and Quatre nodded.

"I've had a lovely time," Quatre said. "It's just awfully crowded and noisy in here. And there's a guard outside the doors that's quite…frightening. I feel a little trapped."

The young man's lips quirked up slightly. "Would you care for some air outside?"

"I'd love to," Quatre smiled, and the young man led him to a single door by a window, and they quietly left the ballroom. There were steps that went down into the gardens, and Quatre and the young man walked together in a comfortable silence. The windows were open, and Quatre could clearly hear the music playing. They stopped by a bench, and Quatre sat down while the young man stayed standing, leaning against a tree next to him.

"How are you enjoying yourself this evening?" Quatre asked, looking up at the bright moon.

"…I'm enjoying it enough," the young man replied. "I've just had…difficulties with the purpose of the ball."

"I overheard a woman say it's so the Prince may find a wife," Quatre said, his eyes moving across the sky and watching the stars twinkle.

"…It is," the young man said quietly and shortly. "I don't think one should be forced to choose a bride if he doesn't want to."

"Sometimes people do things for the sake of others," Quatre said, his eyes going back to the moon. "It's like my music. If I don't feel like playing, when I'm forced to play I don't enjoy it so much. But then I see how happy it makes other people, and after a while I finally start to enjoy it again. It just takes time."

The music drifted across the garden as silence fell between them. Quatre was beginning to grow cold, and chills began speckling his bare arms. Before he could excuse himself, he felt a warm coat fall across his shoulders, and Quatre looked up surprised before smiling in gratitude.

"Would you care for a dance?" the young man asked softly, and Quatre smiled brightly in the dark night.

"I'd love one," Quatre answered, and accepted the hand offered to him.

The music was slow, but as soon as Quatre was in the arms of the young man, it seemed like it wasn't even there. They danced to their own music, and Quatre closed his eyes as they moved across the garden paths. It was beautiful, and Quatre sighed as the steps slowed, until they were standing in each other's arms. The music from the ballroom had picked up its pace, and Quatre opened his eyes just in time to receive a gentle kiss from a handsome stranger. Quatre's eyes fell shut again, and they shared a long, tender kiss. When they parted, Quatre shivered again, this time it wasn't from the cold. But it may have appeared so.

"Perhaps we should return to where it's warmer," the young man suggested, and Quatre nodded and they began walking back to the ballroom. They had barely closed the door when suddenly Duo was right in front of them.

"There you are!" Duo scowled angrily.

"Me?" Quatre asked, blinking and he pointed to himself.

"…Oh!" Duo said, and suddenly looked sheepish. "Well…Yes! You! I've been looking for you!"

"…Why?" Quatre asked, confused.

"…I…want a dance?" Duo replied.

Quatre just stared at Duo, and Duo grabbed his hand and dragged him out onto the dance floor. Quatre just stood there as Duo suddenly fumbled.

"What's wrong?" Quatre asked.

"…I can't lead," Duo mumbled.

Quatre giggled. "Then follow my lead." He placed one hand on Duo's waist, and led the waltz, Duo following.

"…You don't seem to dance exceptionally well for someone who was looking for a dance," Quatre said quietly as they waltzed.

"Well…I have to dance with the only person I invited, right?" Duo replied, not meeting Quatre's eye. "I…thought you had left."

Quatre didn't say anything more, and after the waltz ended he bowed to Duo. "Thank you for the dance," Quatre smiled as they moved off the floor.

Duo just grinned lopsidedly. "Well, I hope you had a good time."

"I did, although, I must be leaving," Quatre said. "It's getting late, and it's a long ride home." He looked around, and Duo looked around too.

"Who're you looking for?" Duo inquired.

"The young man I was with," Quatre said. "This is his coat."

"…If he lent it to you, I'm sure he won't mind if you kept it," Duo said. "After all, you don't want to get cold on the way home, right?"

Quatre looked unsure, but he still didn't see the young man as he made his way out of the ballroom. Duo walked him to his carriage, and Francis woke up with a start and shook himself awake. Quatre bid Duo goodnight, and they were on their way back to the mansion.

"Why'd you disappear on me like that!" Duo fumed, glaring at a young man.

"I needed air and space," was the short reply.

"Prince Trowa, that's a blatant lie!" Duo said, his foot stomping. "There's plenty of air in the ballroom, and if you needed space then why were you with someone?"

Prince Trowa just looked away, the tiniest smile on his lips.

"…You like him?" Duo asked, his anger melting away in an instant. "Someone actually caught your attention? I mean, that was the purpose, but still…I didn't think it would actually work!"

"What is his name?" Prince Trowa asked.

"…I only know his first name," Duo said, scratching his scalp. "I can find him, I know where he was when I invited him."

"Really?" Prince Trowa asked.

"Of course," Duo said, grinning. "I only invited him. He had the only violet band."

"I didn't see it on his wrist," Prince Trowa said quietly.

"It was the band on his head," Duo said, shaking his head. "The one with the flowers in it. He used it for his fairy costume. He looked beautiful, don't you agree?"

"I agree, but that doesn't mean I'm interested in marriage," Prince Trowa said. "At least until I meet him again. I don't know him."

Duo just sighed. "That doesn't mean you won't get the chance."

Quatre entered the mansion after bidding Francis good night and paying him well for his help. He went upstairs and opened the door to his father's bedroom, intending to check on him before going to sleep.

His father wasn't moving, not even to breathe in sleep, and Quatre stepped close to the bed, his hand shaking as he gently touched his father. The body was cool, and there was no breathing. Quatre just sat down on the edge of the bed, and stayed there long after the sun rose.

Duke Winner's body was moved that day after Quatre managed to leave and contact the village grave keeper. A lawyer arrived late that afternoon, and Quatre managed to get through the will reading. He understood that there was nothing left, and it would be a few days before the kingdom would be able to purchase the estate. Quatre spent that night in tears, knowing it would be soon before he would have to leave.

His father's burial ceremony was the next day, and few people showed. Duke Winner was always gone on business and never associated with the town, and after he had fallen ill he still never attempted to socialize. The medicine woman was there, as well as young Francis. The remaining few were people Quatre knew around town, and knew they were there for him, not for his father. Afterwards, Quatre went back to the mansion, where he spent the rest of the day and night in bed. He didn't feel like doing much, and his days seemed slow and blurry.

Two days later, a man arrived to pay Quatre for the estate. Quatre sold all the furnishings and everything, only taking the things that were solely his with him. He bought a horse and strapped everything he owned onto its back. Francis waved as Quatre left, and Quatre smiled and waved back, hoping it wouldn't be the last time he ever saw his young friend.

"Do you know where Quatre lives?"

As the man shook his head and kept walking, Duo sighed. He didn't think it would take him so long to find one person. But he was determined to find Quatre again, no matter what. He approached a house in the middle of town, and knocked on the door. He read a sign out front reading 'medicine', so he hoped they could help him.

"Do you know where Quatre lives?" Duo asked the old woman who answered.

"No sorry," the woman replied and Duo turned to leave. "He left just today."

Duo whipped around. "What?"

"His father, Duke Winner died a few nights back," the woman said. "The Winner Estate was bought by the kingdom, and Lord Winner left on horseback to build his fortunes. Such a hard future for him now, Duke Winner had been ill many years, and there was barely any fortune for Lord Winner."

"And no one knows where he left to?" Duo asked.

The woman shook her head. "I don't think even he knows where he's going."

Duo thanked the woman and went to where his horse was tied outside a saloon. He mounted and rode out of the village. Now Quatre could be anywhere, but at least he had a full name. Perhaps he'd be able to find him still.

The palace looked as beautiful as ever as Quatre rode into the town. He only knew of the one music shop, where he had bought his precious violin years ago. He hoped they would be able to help him get started on his fortunes.

The shop was open, but no customers were inside. Only an elderly man tended the shop, and Quatre tied his horse outside and went into the building.

"Welcome, buying or selling?" the man greeted.

"I'm actually looking for work," Quatre said nervously. "I can be of any assistance to you…"

"No need for work if I have no customers," the man said. "Find me some customers, and I'll find you some work."

Quatre bit his lip thoughtfully, and looked around the small shop. Near the window was a beautiful piano, and Quatre motioned to it.

"May I?"

The man just shrugged and went to the back of the shop, shaking his head.

Quatre sat down at the piano and blew the dust off the ivory keys. He played a few tentative chords, introducing himself to the magnificent instrument before playing a gentle but lively piece.

Quatre wasn't sure how long he played, but the man had come back and was sitting nearby listening intently. When the piece finally ended, there was a spattering of applause, and Quatre noticed a group of people had stopped to listen. One woman held the hand of a little girl, and they came inside and asked about music lessons. The old man smiled brightly, and he agreed to teach the little girl piano.

"Well…I think I can find some work for you," the old man said. "After all, I'm not young anymore. You can call me Grandpa, what's your name?"

"Quatre," Quatre introduced. "Thank you so much, Grandpa."

"No, thank you," Grandpa smiled. "I haven't taught in a while, I've always enjoyed it. Now, one more piece if you don't mind, and I'll start showing you around."

For the next few days, Quatre would finish a couple chores around the shop, and spend lots of time playing the different instruments. His father may have been non-social, but he did love a good melody, and Quatre always had the best instruments and instruction. But the violin was the only one he cherished above everything else. He played the piano and violin more often, but one day he picked up a flute instead. It was on that one day that someone was walking by and heard him play.

"Excuse me," a young man interrupted gently, and Quatre placed the flute down and smiled.

"How can I assist you?" Quatre asked.

The young man looked thoughtful. "Do you teach lessons here?"

"No, but the owner does," Quatre said. "He teaches piano."

"Oh, does he also teach the flute?" the young man asked.

Quatre shook his head. "No, just the piano."

Just then, Grandpa walked out from the back room and looked surprised. "Mister Chang! What an honor! What brings you back to my little shop? Did the flute not suit the Prince?"

Mr. Chang smiled and shook his head. "It suits him perfectly, thank you. However, lessons are tedious. I was hoping for someone different."

"Unfortunately I don't teach the flute," Grandpa said.

Mr. Chang motioned to Quatre. "I heard him playing, it was beautiful. Does he teach?"

Quatre flushed. "No, I don't teach. I was just taught the basics, and I got the hang of it since I play other instruments. I couldn't…"

"We'll pay you well," Mr. Chang offered. "And reimburse the store, since you'll be working for the palace instead. Please, the Prince has few joys in life, and music is one of them."

Grandpa placed a hand on Quatre's arm. "You should take it."

"…But Grandpa…" Quatre hesitated.

"I'll admit, I'll miss you and your music," Grandpa said, but he smiled. "You know, with the lessons I'm now teaching, I'll be pretty busy myself. When I opened this shop, I hoped to spread the music to other people. But no one seemed interested until they heard you playing. You should spread your music more."

Quatre smiled gently. "Thank you, Grandpa." He flung his arms around the old man and received a hug in return.

"Tomorrow, if you go to the castle in the morning, I'll meet you and introduce you around," Mr. Chang said.

"Thank you, Mr. Chang," Quatre said, bowing slightly.

"…It's Wufei," Mr. Chang corrected gently. "Just Wufei. I teach the Prince his educational studies."

"Wufei," Quatre said, smiling. "I'll be there tomorrow morning."

Wufei nodded, and bowed before taking his leave. Quatre went into the back room where the living quarters were and gathered up his things. It wasn't much still, and he left some of his things behind, knowing he wouldn't need them anymore. And if Grandpa ever hired someone else to help, they would appreciate the small tokens.

The next morning Grandpa saw Quatre off, and Quatre waved as he rode away towards the castle. He approached the gates, and a guard looked out from the post.

"What do you need?"

Quatre blinked a few times. It was the same scary guard from the ballroom the night of the ball. "Oh, umm…My name is Quatre Winner. Wufei Chang is expecting me."

The guard's eye narrowed slightly, but before he could speak another voice spoke up.

"It's all right, Heero. I am expecting him."

The guard just nodded, and the gate opened. Quatre nudged his horse through and dismounted as Wufei approached him.

"Good, you're early like I hoped," Wufei greeted. "Follow me, we'll leave your mare in the stables."

Quatre nodded and followed Wufei to the stables. A young boy took his mare and Quatre gathered his things and followed Wufei.

"The Prince has lessons every morning and afternoon," Wufei explained as they walked. "Music isn't high on importance, so he only takes it once a week in the morning before luncheon. You'll teach him tomorrow morning, so please be prepared. The Prince prefers to start off his week with music lessons, so try not to disappoint him. For the remainder of the time, you're free to roam about as you please, but don't snoop or get yourself into trouble. Any questions?"

"No, I think I'll be all right," Quatre said, and they stopped in front of a door.

"Good," Wufei said. "Through here are the servant quarters. As tutors we live as servants, but without the hard labor."

Quatre followed Wufei through the servant quarters until they ended up in a large room with beds lined up all along the wall. Wufei led him to a bed on the far end of the room.

"This is your bed," Wufei said, and Quatre set his things down on the blankets. "The shelves there are yours. Leave your things, and we can continue the tour."

Quatre nodded and set his things down on the bed. He followed Wufei back out to the main rooms of the castle, and spent the rest of the morning following the other tutor around like a shadow. They had luncheon in the kitchens, where the cooks were busy preparing for the royal family. After they finished Wufei led him to the room where Quatre would teach the music lessons. It was a small room, and only held a few sparse but elegant furnishings. The windows and curtains were shut, and the piano that stood in the far corner was covered in a thin layer of dust. Quatre made a mental note to clean it off, and they continued along.

By the time night had fallen, Quatre exhausted. He tried to sleep, but the sounds of other people in the room with him kept distracting him. He finally managed to relax enough to fall asleep, and it seemed only a few minutes went by, before the loud ruckus of servants getting up for the day awoke him.

Breakfast was served quickly and eaten even faster. Quatre barely had time to finish his bowl of hot cereal before it was whisked away and everyone scattered for each duty. Quatre went back to the servant washroom and made himself presentable before going to the music room early to clean the piano.

The piano was obviously neglected for a while, and Quatre took his time caring for the forgotten instrument. Before long it was shining proudly, and Quatre went to the windows to open them. He pulled the curtains back, and the rays of sunshine lit up the room beautifully. The windows, however, wouldn't open no matter how hard Quatre tried.

"They've never been open," a voice spoke up, and Quatre jumped and whirled around, his eyes wide.

"…Your Highness," Quatre greeted, bowing to the Prince. "It's an honor to meet you, Prince Trowa."

"So, you're the new tutor Wufei hired," Prince Trowa stated. "Pray tell, why are you trying to open the windows?"

"The sunshine and fresh air helps clear the mind and open the thoughts," Quatre replied. "Music is born from those thoughts that are opened."

"I see," Prince Trowa said thoughtfully. "Then I would think we should open them."

Working together, Quatre and the Prince managed to open one of the windows, but the other remained stubbornly shut. The breeze from the one open window felt refreshing, and Quatre smiled.

"It helps," Quatre said. "Now, let's begin. Which piece were you learning?"

Prince Trowa showed the sheet music, and Quatre nodded. "Please, will you play what you've learned?"

The Prince obeyed silently and lifted his flute to his lips. Quatre read the music along, and when the Prince paused, Quatre frowned. It should have been an easy piece from what he listened to. Quatre couldn't understand why the Prince stopped less than a quarter of the way. Until he finally realized why.

"What's the matter?" Prince Trowa asked, and Quatre looked up at him.

"I think you're progressing along excellently," Quatre said, smiling brightly. "However, I know why you can't continue."

"By all means, please explain," Prince Trowa said. "It sounds horrible. I can play it, but I won't."

Quatre went to the instrument case and removed a violin. He tested the strings carefully, introducing himself before returning to the waiting Prince.

"It's a duet," Quatre explained. "With a violin." Quatre continued the piece where Prince Trowa had left off, and the sound was beautiful. Quatre continued playing, and nodded to the Prince to continue as well. Prince Trowa looked at the sheet music, and began playing again. Knowing it was a duet though helped greatly, and they played beautifully together. The introduction was a flute solo, and the ending was a violin solo. They finished playing, and Quatre smiled at the Prince.

"I'll be sure to find pieces that are flute only," Quatre assured. "However, I'm afraid our time is over."

Prince Trowa nodded and put his flute away while Quatre closed the window and curtains. Quatre put the violin he used away, silently thanking the beautiful instrument for the music. The Prince was waiting, and Quatre looked at him curiously as they left the room together.

"…I'd like to meet again tomorrow, if you don't mind," Prince Trowa said quietly. "In the gardens, we can meet privately there. I won't be able to wait another week before I play again, especially with you."

"Isn't your schedule full?" Quatre asked, blushing slightly. "I mean, I'd love to, but I…"

"How about at night?" Prince Trowa interrupted gently. "Tonight even. Please."

Quatre nodded. "All right."

The Prince smiled slightly, and Quatre bowed as the Prince turned and walked briskly away. Grandpa did say to spread his music, and Wufei did mention that music was the Prince's only joy in life. Quatre couldn't deny anyone music, and the thought of the young Prince made his cheeks flush slightly. Quatre mentally slapped himself and continued along the hallway. He had some music pieces he brought along from the shop, and he knew which ones he'd like to practice.

The days seemingly flew by, considering Quatre didn't have any work. He entertained himself in the kitchens helping the cooks, who then in turn taught him how to prepare a few simple dishes. He read in the massive library, and would even take a book out to the gardens to read in the sunshine. He even sat in on the Prince's lessons, which were held in the library on the second floor. Quatre would sit below them, and listen to Wufei's lectures about everything. And every night, he and the Prince would sneak out of the palace to the gardens, and Quatre would help him practice and even join in on occasion with his violin. They always had a pleasant time, but one night, nearly three weeks after Quatre began teaching music at the palace, some thing changed.

The moon was bright in the sky, and Quatre listened to the Prince play a slow and haunting melody on the flute. It didn't sound right, and Quatre picked up a copy of the sheet music and read along.

"The tempo increases here," Quatre said, and he heard the flute whistle as the Prince sighed.

"I've tried," Prince Trowa said, shaking his head. "It's just not flowing right."

"Let me try," Quatre asked, holding out his hand. The Prince handed the flute over, and Quatre raised it to his lips. He blew into it gently, introducing himself, before continuing along the piece.

The tempo didn't flow right, and Quatre tried again, adjusting the notes slightly. This time it sounded much better, and Quatre set the flute down as he made the adjustments on the sheet music. He tried again, and it sounded much smoother than the original. Quatre smiled and handed the flute to the Prince who received it back in silence.

Quatre then noticed that they were sitting close together on the bench, and flushed a little at the close proximity. He busied himself with the new piece arrangement, but looked up when the Prince touched his hand. He found himself caught in the intense green gaze, and for a moment they just stared into each other's eyes. Quatre wasn't sure who moved first, but suddenly he found himself kissing the Prince.

It lasted only a moment, and suddenly the Prince pulled away, standing up and turning to face away from Quatre. "I'm sorry."

Quatre blinked as he stood up as well. "What?"

"It's…not fair to you," Prince Trowa said quietly. "I'm waiting for someone. I just…these nights with you…but I can't. I'm waiting."

Quatre didn't say anything. He just turned and ran out of the gardens. He was fully intent on heading back to his quarters, when he suddenly bumped into someone.

"I apologize," Quatre said quickly, intent on getting away.

"…Quatre!"

Quatre blinked. "Duo?"

Duo just grabbed Quatre's shoulders and shook him hard. "It IS you! I don't believe it! I've been looking for practically a month now for you! And here you are!"

"I've been instructing the Prince on music," Quatre said. "It's been three weeks now."

Duo's jaw just fell open and shut, no words coming out. Quatre looked concerned, but then Duo found his voice. "You have? What did he say? Are you together?"

Quatre brushed off Duo's hands. "Yes, I have. What do you mean?"

"I mean…" Duo stopped. "You don't know?"

"Know what?" Quatre insisted, growing impatient. "That's he's waiting for someone? I know that much, he told me right after he kissed me."

"Quatre, you really don't know," Duo said, shaking his head. "And neither does Prince Trowa."

"The Prince doesn't know what?" Quatre asked, wanting to get away so Duo wouldn't see him begin to cry.

"Quatre," Duo said, and suddenly Quatre was pulled into a hug. "That night of the ball…the one that you went outside with…it was him. He's waiting for you."

Quatre was stunned. He suddenly understood, and he broke out of Duo's arms and ran to his quarters. He knew what he was looking for, and as soon as he grabbed it he was running back outside to the gardens.

The Prince was still in the gardens, only he was sitting down. Quatre caught his breath before approaching, his heart racing. Prince Trowa could hear him walk up behind him, but he didn't turn around.

"You know, it's growing cold now," Quatre began, and the Prince made no movement or sound. "Almost as cold as one night several weeks ago. I was invited to this ball, and while outside I was given this jacket to stay warm. The young man was a real gentleman, and we shared a lovely dance together."

By now, Quatre was right behind the Prince, and could notice the increased breathing. "He even kissed me, my first one. But then he vanished, and I couldn't return his jacket. I was wondering…if you'd be able to help me."

Quatre opened the jacket and set it gently on Prince Trowa's shoulders and the Prince shrugged into it as if he had worn it a thousand times before. He stood up and turned to face Quatre, who was smiling softly.

"Perfect fit."

"All this time," Prince Trowa murmured, and he suddenly stepped over the bench and pulled Quatre into his arms, embracing him as he kissed him deeply.

Quatre wrapped his arms up around Prince Trowa's neck, holding him close as they continued to kiss passionately. It wasn't until someone cleared their throat did they pause to look over.

Duo was standing there, shaking his head. "I spent a long time trying to hunt you down, and you were here the entire time. How did you two not know?"

"I didn't know his name," Prince Trowa stated. "You didn't reveal it before you left to look."

"…You mean…this could have been done with sooner if Duo had only given you my name?" Quatre asked, and Duo suddenly started backing away.

"You know, it seems you two are busy, and I need to start announcing your wedding, so, carry on." And with that, the braided youth was running off.

"Wedding?" Quatre asked, a little perplexed.

"I've been waiting for you," Prince Trowa informed gently, and Quatre looked up at him. "But then this beautiful young man began teaching my music, and I started to forget that I danced with an angel that night at the ball. Quatre…will you marry me? I'll have not only my angel from that night, but also the man I've fallen in love with."

"Yes," Quatre breathed. "I know you're the one I love. I will, Your Highness."

"Trowa."

"Trowa," Quatre murmured, and they shared another kiss before returning to the castle, which was beginning to liven up despite the late hour. Duo was certainly effective when it came to getting news around.

They made the announcement to a crowd of people gathered in sleep clothes, and the next day they were married in a wedding that was both beautiful and elegant. Quatre couldn't believe his fortune, and knew that fairy tales were real, and he had the luck of living in one.

The End

Author's Notes: Hope you didn't choke on the fluff. Post if you see anything off, I don't always manage to see everything to correct it.