|
"A Hidden Heart "Written By: Hemlock Inyx Disclaimer: This chick does not own any of the
Gundam Wing characters because they belong to Bandai and Sunrise.
I am borrowing them for this fict and will return them in good (if
somewhat sticky) condition.This fict is written out of love and not
for profit, don't sue. Thanks and enjoy! Rating: NC 17 Warnings: yaoi, lemon, midieval alternate universe,
some angst, violence Pairings: 5x2, 4xH, 13xS Summary: They called him Milliardo's Dragon. A warrior bold as the Chinese legend, his temper as fiery; Lord Chang Wufei was the prince's right hand. Men of power quaked at word of his arrival, for he was the sword to carry out Milliardo's judgement. 'Twas rumored he'd do any deed at the prince's bidding, avenge any slight to his master's name. Only Milliardo had the might to direct the Dragon's fury, to shape thr form of his vengeance. Or so the prince believed. But shrouded deep beneath that scaly hide, the dragon's true nature slumbered. Obscured by fire. Hidden from harm. Burried beyond reach of pain. Until he met him. The boy with the power to free the heart of the Dragon.
"A Hidden Heart "
Chapter 6 Wufei’s interview with Milliardo haunted him long after he left his overlord’s presence. Something about the meeting disturbed him, though he had yet to figure out why. Milliardo had listened to his words and agreed to consider permitting Duo to meet with him soon. There was nothing unusual about that, contrary to what he’d led Duo to believe Milliardo possessed a deep sense of curiosity and a well-developed mind. Wufei admired his ability to look ahead and plan for the future. It was their shared vision of a united Sank that had led Wufei to join forces with Milliardo. Milliardo could bring that dream to fruition, draw together the independent nobles into a power to be reckoned with, whether dealing with English tyrants—or German ones. In his quest, Wufei had committed deeds he cold never have imagined in his youth, before the destruction of his family. The bastards responsible for his parents’ deaths had paid with their worthless lives long ago, but Wufei’s desire for justice remained. Wufei knew his sister wondered at the change in him, perhaps even mourned the loss of the man he had once been. When Wufei looked back at that innocent, he did not recognize himself. But what did it matter, in the greater scheme of things? Wufei would do anything necessary to achieve his goal. At times, that task seemed almost impossible. His latest chore promised to tax his patience—and that of his small company form Raven’s Crest—to the limit. Trowa and several others had joined Wufei in the courtyard to watch as ten young men from the hills—future warriors all, Wufei reminded himself with a snort of disbelief—played at mock battle. "Do you think any of them has ever seen a weapon close up, milord? Trowa asked his voice tinged with amusement. "Look at how they’re holding their swords, were we ever so incompetent?" "I hope it’s just ignorance, not stupidity. We’ll find out soon enough." Wufei saw nothing to laugh about in the chaotic scene. Rarely did they find men like these, freemen without an overlord to command their loyalty. With luck they’d gain some decent fighters, always in short supply. If not, Wufei didn’t doubt he find some task for them. He’d suggested this exercise to determine what he had to word with. But he could tell right off. Shepherds and farmers, the lot of them. When Wufei could no longer stand to watch their clumsy attempts, he stripped off his shirt and tunic and, snatching a practice sword off the ground, leaped into the fray. Wufei’s first battle roar sent half the company to the wall, backs pressed against the stone. They blanched and shook with fear, much to the onlookers’ amusement. Once Wufei began to lay about him with the dull blade, only two men held their ground to parry his attack. Their movements were awkward, but he saw their confidence increase with every swing of his sword. Wufei didn’t try to overpower them—he wanted to test their courage, if they had any, not scare them off. But, unlike the others, they rose to the challenge and worked harder still. After a time, one stepped away, sweat streaming down his face as he gasped for breath. But the other pressed on, grinning; his eyes alight with the joy of battle. Wufei pushed harder and brought him to his knees, the blade at his throat. "Do you yield?" "Yes, m-milord," the youth stammered. He looked Wufei straight in the eyes. "But only ‘cause I got no choice." "Get up." Wufei handed the sword to one of his men and picked up his shirt. "You and you—" he nodded to his other opponent "—come with me. The rest of you," he said, raising his voice to reach the men along the wall, "Stay here with Trowa. See if you can learn something from him." Trowa offered a mocking salute. "Whatever I did to offend you, milord, I apologize—a thousands times over. By Christ, you don’t really expect me to make fighters out of them, do you?" "We need every man we can get. If you can’t teach them to use a sword or a bow, at least they should be able to handle a spear. It’s not too different for, a shepherd’s crook," he added dryly. Wufei tugged his shirt over his head. "When you’ve finished here for the afternoon, come see me in my chamber. I’ve another task for you, one I’m sure you’ll find more to you liking." Smiling at Trowa’s grumbled curses, Wufei led his two apprentices away. Wufei practiced with them until they looked ready to drop and he’d worked up a sweat, as well. But the labor brought satisfaction, as hard work always did; he couldn’t help smiling as he returned to his room to wash and change his filthy clothing before the evening meal. Wufei found Trowa leaning against the wall outside his room. His lieutenant’s unusual bangs stood out from his head as though he’d dragged his fingers through his hair more than once. "Seems you had a good afternoon," he snarled as Wufei unlocked the door and motioned him into the room. Trowa flopped onto a stool with the ease of long acquaintance. "Wish I could say the same." Wufei smirked. "I think we’ll make fighters out of those two." He filled a pair of mugs with mead and handed one to Trowa. "Here. Your favorite, made by my sister’s own hands. I can see you need it. Getting too old for this work? You know there’s a place for you at Raven’s Crest." Wufei tried not to smile at Trowa’s expression of disgust at the familiar taunt—and his typical answer. "Yes, beneath six feet of dirt." Trowa drained the brew and then stood up and helped himself to more. "They work you over good, Milord?" he asked, tugging on the trailing cuff of Wufei’s sleeve. "Not a scratch on me. They look worse than I do. I doubt they’ll be too lively tomorrow morning." Wufei finished his drink in one swallow, then poured water to wash. "Did you have any luck with the others?" he asked, without much hope. Wufei stripped off his shirt and tossed it onto the chest, then stretched the kinks out of his shoulders. "Are you insane? You know as well as I that lot’ll never be ready. Even after all I put them through," Trowa said, his voice tinged with exasperation, "Or maybe because of it, most of them will still turn tail at the first sign of battle." He sipped at his mead, then asked, "What of the lad you pulled from the wall last night? Anyone willing to try that must have a measure of courage." In the process of scooping cold water over his head, Wufei chuckled, and he came up sputtering. He grouped for the drying cloth. "That she does." "Something is wrong with my ears, milord? I could swear you said ‘she’." "I did." Wufei took his time drying off, savoring the other man’s glare. Trowa did not care for Wufei’s sense of humor, nor did he care to wait for Wufei to explain himself. By the time Wufei had tugged a clean shirt over his head and picked up his comb, Trowa looked ready to gut him. "In truth I first thought the boy a female, he looks enough like one, but he’s the reason I asked you here." "Who is he?" "He says he doesn’t know." Trowa frowned. "Did he hit his head on the way up the wall? Or did you hit yours? Enough of your foolery, milord, this is a joke, am I right?" "It’s no joke. It’s more like a puzzle." Wufei walked over to the bed and stared down at the place where Duo had sprawled. Wufei could see Duo there still, his hair shining against the dull gray coverlet. The image had haunted his dreams, just as the look on Duo’s face when he agreed to help him had dominated his thoughts throughout the day. //Maybe I have time to see Duo before the evening meal. I’ll take Trowa to meet him, instead of just sending him--// "Come on then, milord," Trowa said, cutting into Wufei’s thoughts. "Can’t say something like that then leave me hanging. Tell me more." "In good time. Will you allow me to finish dressing, or must I parade through the castle bare-assed?" Wufei asked as he settled a clean tunic over his shirt and leggings. Trowa snorted. "Yes the ladies and half the guard would like that, I have no doubt. Not that you would notice. I never saw a man turn away so many invitations as you, milord." "It’s not me they want, but the chance to bed the Dragon. Besides, it’s difficult to lay anyone who’s staring at you with fear in their eyes." Wufei said with disgust. "So don’t look into their eyes. Christ, how’d you get so choosy? If the body is willing what does it matter?" "It does matter to me." Wufei scanned the room for his cloak before he remembered he’d left it with Duo. //I don’t need it anyway.// Wufei’s blood had flowed hot from the moment he first tussled with Duo. The feel of Duo in his arms remained imprinted on his body. And his mind. Trowa’s words made Wufei think of Duo’s vivid violet eyes. He had recognized many things in that gaze when it rested so steadily on him. But Wufei hadn’t seen fear among them. //Nataku, I grow weak. Next thing I know, I will be composing songs about the way his hair glows in the candlelight. I have been spending too much time with my brother-in-in law; his courtly manners are rubbing off on me.// A quick glance at the sky through the window slit showed the sun hovering just above the horizon. //If I want to take Trowa to meet Duo before supper, we had best go now.// "Come along, old man," Wufei said, urging Trowa from the mead and out the door. "I’ll show you a lad who doesn’t know the meaning of fear." "Indeed, milord." Trowa squinted at his face in the dim light of the corridor; Wufei felt the measuring weight of his scrutiny. "And how would you know that?" "He calls me Dragon." ~~~(***)~~~ Wufei fought back a smile as they left the tower and crossed the courtyard. Seldom did he move Trowa to speak so much, but the man had said more in the past few hours than he normally did in a day. Although Wufei valued Trowa’s counsel, and trusted him implicitly, he often grew tired of his lack of conversation. Wufei picked up his pace as he led the way down the stairs into the cellars, but then stopped dead in the corridor. No guard stood outside the cell. And the bar to the door lay on the floor, as though tossed aside in haste. Motioning to Trowa to keep silent, Wufei drew his sword and crept forward, then pushed on the door. It swung inward in a slow, creaking arc, revealing the darkness within. Trowa snatched a torch from the wall and handed it to Wufei. Sword at the ready, Wufei entered the cell. He paced the narrow boundaries, but of Duo he found no sign. The three-legged stool sat where he’d placed it, his cloak draped over the seat, the only clues that his visit hadn’t been a dream. "Lord Wufei." He whirled at the sound of Trowa’s voice, then kicked the stool aside and snatched his cloak off the floor. "Where is he?" The formless suspicions Wufei had harbored after meeting with Milliardo crowed into his head, a jumble of curiosity and accusation, barely noticed hints that something wasn’t right. //I should have followed my instincts, sent Trowa off to investigate sooner, instead of--// "Maybe Milliardo let him go," Trowa commented. "He hadn’t agreed to see Duo. Even if he decided to meet with him, he would have sent for me to be there, as well. I’m the one who questioned him." "What does it matter, milord? He was here, now he’s gone. You said yourself he didn’t know who he was." Trowa shook his head. "I know for a fact you’ve got more important work to do than this." //But it does matter.// "There’s something strange about this. The situation Duo described seemed odd." Wufei righted the stool and sat down, his mind working furiously. "I want you to go to Saint Winifred’s Church once we discover what happened here. I’m certain you’ll have better luck finding answers than a lone boy would," he said pointedly. "Yes, milord." "But first we need to find Duo." Wufei rose to his feet. "Come. Let’s see what Milliardo has to say about this." The prince had yet to leave his chamber for supper, which suited Wufei’s purpose. He’d rather not discuss the mysterious Duo before all in the dining hall. Once the meal ended, the revelry would begin. And when the wine began to flow, any kind of conversation would be impossible. "May we speak with you privately, milord?" Wufei asked. At Milliardo’s nod, he ushered Trowa into the chamber. "I’ve matter of importance to discuss." Milliardo returned his attention to a basin of water as Wufei pulled the door closed with a sharp snap. Wufei’s expression revealed nothing but impatience as Milliardo took his time drying his hands on a strip of fine linen. Tossing the towel aside, Milliardo crossed the room to a table in the center and picked up a jeweled chalice. "Would you care for wine?" He poured the deep red liquid from a pitcher, sending the sent of spices wafting through the air. Wufei declined the wine and the offer of a chair, then waited impatiently as Trowa accepted a goblet and joined the prince at the table. Finally the niceties were satisfied, and Wufei got down to business. "I went back to see the boy, to tell him you would deal with him once you had more time." He watched his overlord’s face with interest, although he kept his own expression casual, disinterested. "I planned to release him from the cell, since he poses no threat to anyone." Wufei toyed with a thread on the sleeve of his tunic, continuing to observe Milliardo from beneath lowered brows. "I was surprised to find the boy wasn’t there." All Milliardo’s attention seemed focused upon his wine. Then he glanced up and met Wufei’s gaze. Wufei could see nothing in the other man’s face but a mild annoyance, gone so swiftly he might have imagined it. "You needn’t have bothered," Milliardo said. "Any more than you should have bothered me with his tale in the first place. I know nothing of him and so I told him." "Then where is he?" Wufei demanded. "He had no wish to stay, once he saw I could not help him. A guard escorted him from the castle." Milliardo raised the goblet to his lips and avoided Wufei’s scrutiny. "He is here no longer. Beyond that, I cannot say." ~ * ~ |
