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"Ash Tree Cruel "Written By: Asymphototropic
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam wing. Author: Asymphototropic (attracted toward the
light, but never quite arrives there) Rating: NC 17 Warnings: yaoi, violence, AU Summary: Duo is a wanderer, drawn to an ancient
barrow in the hopes of speaking to his master's death soul. Heero
is a guardian servant in this dangerous place. Will the death soul
seeker become a sacrifice on the bloody altar of a cruel cult? Pairings 1x2
"Ash Tree Cruel " Part 13: Myrtle Calms Seas In urgent struggling to hurry forward, Heero broke through the crusted snow and floundered in its depths. He had then to enforce sufficient self-peace that he could extract himself, and move again carefully over the packed surface. By the time he arrived at the tumultuous scene, he was even more anxious and exhausted than previously he had been. "What make you here?" he demanded, casting aside his burdens and flourishing his blade. From angry aggression, the Norsemen devolved to hesitance. Then they clamored simultaneously. "Heero Yuy. The Death Soul Seeker magicks us. He invokes the Tanist's demons. He commands the dead. He speaks strange tongues." Yuy decided instantly upon a bold course. He sheathed his sword, and ignoring the probability of being killed, elbowed his way to the sled. "Be still. The boy is no danger to us," he commanded blindly over his shoulder. He crouched by his comrade's shuddering form, supporting it. Pried the cedar plaque from spasmodically tensed fingers. "Duo, enough. Return to us here. We have need of your advisement." Yuy waited. The boy settled in his arms as if sinking through turbulent waters. Then there came a groan and a sigh. Duo's muddled look extracted a chuckle from Heero. Much to Yuy's surprise, his laugh was accompanied by a clatter of weaponry being sheathed. Where logic could not induce cessation of hostilities, a sense of mere mundane humor had succeeded. "I have done it again," the seeker stated ruefully, now perceiving the danger he had called down upon his companion. "Indeed have you," the servant gently replied. "But Heero. This time it was my own people's death souls. The wanderers of Traeszkavelon that spoke to me," Duo explained in pleading tones.
Despite this increase in their load, the others seemed much relieved by the change, and again dragged the toboggan sturdily along toward the Merquise's encampment. Drawing the covers close under the boy's chin, Heero whispered in his ear. "Think you the plaque has power to invoke the souls of its creators?" "Eh, no. I think 'tis my own mind that drew them nigh. I could not keep from dwelling upon those who are long gone. Wondering who they were, what were their thoughts and aspirations? How many years had they wandered, and how far away from Traeszkavelon? Did they long for a return to our homeplace?" Heero heard the yearning in Duo's voice. Heard it with a certain dismay. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he had a vague notion that the wanderer might choose to remain awhile. At least until the harshness of winter could melt into the invitation of spring. Which might then induce the boy to linger for the summer's sunshine. And then, to see the brilliant pallet of autumnal colors spread. But no. Where was the use in all of this? He should have left the haversack at the hut. At least then, the boy would have to stay until his possessions were retrieved. Perhaps he should hide them? Ridiculous thought. Heero knew with a certainty born of understanding. As soon as the boy had sufficient strength to walk, he would be gone. Back to his restless questing. "It doesn't work, you know," he stated solemnly. "Which it?" Duo laughed. "Myrtle branches, crossed upon the bow of your vessel. I've seen that done. It has no effect to calm storm seas whatsoever." "You remember the rhyme?" The boy sounded impressed. "I've a good memory for words spoken." "That you do." "My people, those born borne upon the ocean, have writing too. Rather different from yours. But the materials upon which to write being scant. We rely much upon our memories, and train them accordingly." "Practical." "I should like to learn to read the writing of Traeszkavelon. Would you teach me?" "We could perhaps make a start on it," Duo sounded dubious. There. There it was, as plain to Heero as the carving upon the cedar. Duo hesitated to agree, not from ungenerous motives. But because he anticipated having no time in which to teach. Because he was leaving. Frowning, Heero buried his face in Duo's soft hair. "What think you of the last phrase?" "From Traeszkavelon, wanderers elsewhere," the boy murmured. "Perhaps your people are perpetual travelers. Perhaps Traeszkavelon is a migrant people rather than a place." "Ah." The sadly trailing tones indicated the boy had already contemplated that. Heero regretted voicing the suggestion. Duo added, "And they have become so dispersed over the ages, that they have disappeared altogether. The folk of misty myths. Traeszkavelon. The homeplace of first man, first woman. That place at the top of the world where mortals may not ascend." "They must exist in real form. Else how explain your master's knowledge of their writing? How explain the plaque you have claimed?" Heero could not credit the sound of his own voice. Having discouraged the boy's quest, was he now sending him away, back upon that very road? But his reward was Duo's smile. "Yes. I have the plaque now as evidence. And how would you go about finding a locale described as 'the top of the world'? You who have traveled so far, so young?" "Hmm. Well, I might think it an extreme northward destination. Beyond the Norsemen's land. Or it could refer to the tallest in a range of high peaks." "What think you of this? If I were to start walking toward the North. And persist ever in that direction?" "I think you would become very wet. Followed by extremely cold," Yuy teased, covering his disapproval with a display of mirth. Duo replied indignantly. "Of course I meant not to stride in my boots upon the Northernmost Sea. But if my folk came south by man's many devices. Surely a return to the homeplace be possible." Yuy clenched his jaws upon his retort. The sounds of merriment now wafted to them upon the winter wind. The sled was arriving into the midst of an ongoing festival. They ploughed to a stop abruptly in deep snow. Heero perceived the voices of women and children. The Norse warriors must have believed the fighting at an end, and brought their families here for their peaceful wintering. The celebration would both welcome the return of the sun for another year, and praise victory against their fallen enemies. Duo struggled up off the sled, immediately to sprawl in the deep drift. Before Yuy could hasten to his assistance, the seeker was lofted toward the endless blue of the sky. Still on his knees in the sled, grasping his sword, Heero looked up at a towering figure, so brightly backlit as to appear featureless. Placing his feet into the snow, the servant used his sword's sheath upon the sled as a prop. He sunk to his knees in the clinging cold, before he felt a firm grip on his arm. "Welcome, my faithful Thane," Merquise's voice slithered into his servant's ear. "We are eager to marvel at your saga. How my kinsman's cloak be magical enough to resurrect the death of the seeker. Whose small hands in turn transform powerful demon carvings into harmless children's toys." With the commander's muscular arm wrapped round his waist, Heero was supported onto a better packed surface. His eagerly searching gaze yielded a glimpse, before the jubilant crowd swallowed the view. Of the Lord Treize, carrying Duo away. ~ * ~ tbc....
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