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"The Ancient Kingdom "Written By: Jewel of Hell Disclaimer: Don't own nothin' but these words Rating: NC 17 Warnings: Yaoi, lemon (copious amounts, probably), slavery, magic, nekos, some smut, sap, peril, abuse, AU/Fantasy/Drama Pairings: 1x2, 3x4, 4+2, 3+1, 5x6, 6+2, 5+1 (good grief!) Summary: When Heero, son of the Warrior
King, conquers the kingdom Sheneva and executes the king, he finds
something unexpected " The Ancient Kingdom "
The Empire of Venya When the seventh day of open court in the Sheneva royal palace drew to a close, Heero sagged back against the throne and rubbed his temples. Commonfolk were the backbone of a nation. Hell, the whole skeleton. But they could be every bit as petty as the cattiest noble. Especially when drawn out and allowed to complain about said catty nobles. It both amused and annoyed him. But he'd learned many important things. The general populace was extremely happy with Venya imposing her rule on Sheneva. They'd suffered greatly under Grascien's tyrannical rule, and they were happy to see the fair-minded Warrior King become their new monarch. They also seemed to like Relena, though they didn't know that much about her. "That was the easy part," Wufei said at his elbow. "Now you have to arrange the preparations for the feast for the nobility." Heero didn't roll his eyes. "Yeah, I will see to that right after dinner. Will you tell the cooks to make you, me, and Trowa a private meal? I believe I would like to spend a quiet evening." At Heero's left, the captain of the royal guard stirred. "Please allow me to see to that, my prince." He bowed deeply and immediately hustled out of the audience hall. Heero watched him for a moment, then looked back at Wufei. "Will you tell the captain to see to that while you find Trowa?" he asked, amused. Wufei snorted. "We'll meet you in the study. I suspect you would like to change into something a little more comfortable." "And wouldn't you?" Heero retorted, looking pointedly at Wufei's robe. The thing was black silk, falling in lustrous waves of fabric to the floor. A red, serpentlike dragon wound up the back, and runes embroidered in gold covered the sleeves. It made Wufei look quite impressive, all the more mysterious by the dramatic colors. He nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. "I believe I would. Don't keep us waiting too long." He smirked. Heero made his way to his chambers and shut the door. His mind was racing too much for him to simply sit down to a meal, so he changed quickly into something more informal and began walking through the halls without real purpose. Sheneva was the second to last kingdom to conquer and bring under Venya's rule. The last kingdom was her eastern neighbor, Sanq. Sanq was small, and Heero knew it would pose no serious military threat to the Imerial Army's occupation. The monarch was a plump, mousy man who would be too afraid to challenge Heero. Then his line of defense would be complete. Then it would be time for other things. Building a network of contacts within the new territories. Weeding out those he couldn't trust. Laying the first foundations for stage one of his plan. Wincing, he stopped thinking about it. Wufei was right. There were other people who would be able to hear his stray thoughts if he didn't guard them. For some reason, his feet carried him to the guest room that had been converted to an infirmary. He knocked lightly on the door, waited a few seconds, then went in. The two young Myda were curled around each other on the bed. It was amazing, the changes seven days had wrought. A human would probably still look pathetic and thin and pasty. Both the Myda had filled out significantly, though it would be a time yet before they looked the appropriate weight. The gold's neck was mostly healed, little more than a discolored scar remaining. Wufei had told Heero these would fade away completely. Like all magical beings, Myda did not scar. The little auburn didn't look as well as his friend, but Heero knew that was only to be expected. Still, the lashes that had covered his body were healed over well, probably would only need another week to pale and then another week after that to vanish completely. He was so small the splint on his leg looked heavy and ponderous. Aqua and indigo eyes lifted to look at him when he entered, one with thinly-veiled hostility, the other with weary curiosity. Closing the door behind him, Heero paced across the room and leaned idly against the hearth. It hadn't been his intent to come here, but now that he had questions crowded into his mind. Well aware that the gold looked fit enough now to spring off the bed and attack him, he tried to phrase everything carefully. "In four days we'll be returning to Venya," he started. "The two of you will have plenty of time to rest and grow strong there." The words garnered no comment, but the gold - Quatre, Trowa had told him - watched him with alert eyes. Heero allowed himself to slouch a little. "How did Grascien manage to get his hands on you two?" he asked presently. Aqua eyes glittered with caution and hate. "Trap," Quatre said, voice no longer as raspy and dry as days ago. "He trapped us." "Do you know why?" "It matters?" Quatre retorted with no small amount of venom. Heero dropped his gaze to stare into the fire for a moment. No, he thought, not from your point of view. No clue had been found in Grascien's documents about his intent, not even a contract or certificate of ownership. "I'm not sure," he replied honestly, blinking when the logs in the fire snapped and settled. He absently looked back up at Quatre. Had there been some kind of reason for Grascien's traveling all the way to the mystic isles to capture Myda? The creatures were certainly beautiful to look upon, but it was a long and dangerous journey. Was there any sense at all in the man's reasoning? Most of his actions seemed to point to him being mad. Was there some dark force behind his actions? His father had told him Grascien was a reasonable young man before he took the throne. Why had the man gone to such lengths to keep the presence of these two secret, hiding them away in a tower where none were likely to stumble across them by accident? He realized his pensive stare was agitating the young Myda. "Your people are native to Wythiera, right?" A sharp nod. "Did you ever hear of anything strange happening south of here, in the Southern Wastes? Notice anything strange?" o0o 0o0 Caught off-guard, Quatre gazed at the human, a little surprised by his tone. It was earnest without a hint of mockery or hesitation. As though he intended to carefully weigh anything he heard, to actually listen to the young Myda. Not an attitude he was used to seeing in a human. "No," he answered slowly, seriously considering. "But our clan is from the southernmost isle, much farther from this continent." The youth nodded, now dropping his gaze to stare at the fire again. Quatre thought he displayed a remarkable lack of concern for someone alone in a room with a wild animal. "I see," the human murmured, brow furrowing. He appeared to become lost in thought. Then he jolted upright as if stuck with something sharp, startling Quatre. "A human coming to the island. Is that a common occurrence?" "No," Quatre replied, still bemused by the way this man spoke to him. Now Duo spoke, and Quatre briefly glanced down at him in surprise. "It was . . . the Warrior King . . . who put a stop to that." His voice sounded faint, as though he were only barely awake. Quatre leaned down and nuzzled him. "Hn," the youth murmured. "That would be my grandfather back about ten generations." Blinking, Quatre searched the youth's face. This was the Warrior King's son? Myda didn't concern themselves with human politics, but him they held in fair regard. And after a careful study, Quatre could see it in the prince's face. His eyes were fierce and confident, his movements bold and fearless. This man was a predator, a hunter. His presence was forceful and aggressive, and Quatre found himself relaxing. He draped his limbs over Duo's prone form, ears flicking unconcernedly about the room. He wondered if he should ask the youth's name. He beat him to it. "I'm Heero," he said. "My brother told me you are Quatre, and your companion is Duo?" "Yes," Quatre confirmed. "Your brother?" He couldn't think of anyone he'd seen who bore any similarity at all to the prince, in visage or personality. "Trowa," Heero said. "The one with green eyes and a fall of brown hair over his right eye." Quatre's ears pinned back in distaste. Trowa, eh? He was nothing like Heero. His attitude was more . . . well, in a wolf pack it would be called Omega. A follower, not a leader. Heero watched him and chuckled. "Don't like him?" The tone was teasing. Quatre ignored the question and changed the subject. "Are Grascien's reasons important?" Truly curious, now. Heero easily let himself be sidetracked. He uncoiled and started pacing in front of the bed. "I'm not entirely certain. My father always told me to trust my instincts, and my instincts tell me something is wrong." Quatre's eyes stopped tracking Heero and landed on the fire. "Nervousness?" he suggested. "You did just conquer a kingdom." Heero shook his head. "Venya lords over all the kingdoms of the Highlands, so my occupation was within my rights. This is different. Something more . . . sinister." A slight tremor ran up Quatre's spine as he tried to imagine something that could make this fearless man afraid. He could smell it, sharpening Heero's scent. Not blind terror, but a sliver of fear. It was unmistakable. Heero didn't pause for long. "What other mystic beings live in Wythiera?" he asked. "Phoenixes and Unicorns," Quatre replied. "Too tropical for Wolves, not enough mountain for Griffins." Heero nodded, leaning against the wall again and looking thoughtful. Quatre didn't miss that the prince didn't exclaim over Wolves. Most humans weren't aware that Wolves were mystic beings. He wondered if Heero had simply missed it. He doubted it. "It doesn't make sense," the prince said, folding his arms and glaring at the ground as if the puzzle were some sort of personal insult. "Why would Grascien travel all the way to the mystic isles to capture Myda? They couldn't make good pets - too dangerous." Quatre purred at the compliment. "Did he ever speak of anything to the two of you?" Heero asked. "Say anything strange?" "No," Quatre answered, pausing just long enough to be sure. "He didn't seem . . . mad, though." "No, sometimes madmen don't," Heero said in a dark tone. He sighed and raked fingers through already-disheveled hair. He abruptly pushed off the wall and moved to the bed, sitting on the edge of it just a few hand spans away from Quatre. He reached out and Quatre tensed, warm fingers brushed lightly over the mostly-healed wounds on his neck. "The two of you should not have had to shoulder this burden," the prince said, almost as to himself. Closing his eyes briefly, he rose and headed for the door. "Would you both think on it a little more? If you remember anything, please let me know." Quatre found himself nodding. It was only after the door closed that he realized this was the first time he'd been touched by a human and not hurt by him. It was a strange feeling. o0o 0o0 Duo watched the human leave the room, relaxed and drowsy, put completely at ease by Quatre's lack of tension. Heero. The son of the Warrior King. He'd never seen a human like that one. Had he been Myda, he would have been a powerful clan leader. Quatre shifted, and Duo looked up at him with a questioning trill. "No human has spoken to us like that, hm?" Quatre mused, purring. Duo smiled, ears twitching. "He is more like . . . Wolf, I think. A pack leader. Alpha. Hunter. Not content to let his herd hunt for him." Quatre snorted at Duo's choice of words. Herd, as if humans were dumb prey-animals. Like deer. "I think I believe him, that he will return us to our home," Quatre said after a moment. He transformed into his wild form, licking Duo's ear. "I do not believe that one would lie to us." Duo's eyes drifted shut, purring deep in his chest. Interesting that for the first time, the two of them were relaxed and content. And it was a human who'd given them that. A strong, powerful, confident, fearless human. One whom they could respect. As Quatre's licking lulled him back into sleep, Duo's last thought was, Pity he's not Myda. o0o 0o0 Trowa accepted the tray from the captain of Sheneva's royal guard and closed the study door. Carrying it to the cleared table, he set it down and began dishing proportions to first Heero, then Wufei, then himself. He also poured the wine for them. Once, his younger brother had fussed at him for insisting on serving him like this. Trowa had not protested, merely continued to do it until Heero got fed up and stopped objecting. Wufei nodded. "I've warded the room, we may speak freely." "Business first," Heero said, taking a bite of the roasted beef. "Our scribes finished going through all the documents. There are three main laws that will be rewritten. First, the ban on importation will be lifted. Second, exports will start again. And third, slavery is once more abolished. All the slaves in the dungeons were freed, and three of them have joined my Imperial Army." The Imperial Army, Trowa mused with an inward smile, had become known as the Ever Victorious Army. In its several hundred years it had never been defeated. Wufei nodded, looking openly approving. Heero would never admit it, but Trowa knew his brother relied on his sorcerer for advice on many things. "All the old trade routes have been reopened," Heero went on, "and I've sent couriers to Sangria and Jendae to let them know it is safe for their merchant trains again." "You may want to have some soldiers do sweeps of all the major roads," Wufei suggested, "to make sure no thieves or bandits take advantage of this rebuilding period." "Already done," Heero said, sipping his wine. "The captain offered to arrange it for me. He's a useful man, that one. I believe I can add him to my 'trusted' list." He smirked. Trowa sampled some of his own dinner, found it quite delicious, and spread out a sheet of heavy parchment. "I had the chamberlain prepare this. A family tree, of sorts, for the nine prominent noble houses who all have distant blood relation to the crown. They are the most influential people in this kingdom, and they are the ones we must watch most closely." Heero accepted the document, beginning his perusal. "I'm sure many of the nobles with daughters of age will immediately attempt to give them to you in marriage," Wufei remarked. "Secure their positions." Trowa smiled when Heero rolled his eyes. "Yes," his brother said, "I had thought of that. Trowa, you're staying by my side all night. They will not be so direct if they cannot get me alone." "All right," Trowa acquiesced. "It's also common knowledge, thanks to you," Wufei continued, "that Trowa is your half brother. There are plenty who would not care his beginnings and ask your father for his consent to marriage to Trowa, as well." Heero blinked. "Ah . . . that I had not considered. "Nor had I," Trowa agreed. He'd always imagined he would be the bastard half-brother general all his life. Not a husband or a lord — though Heero had given him a title when the prince turned eighteen. He could remember that day with vivid clarity. No one had dared call him 'bastard' after that day. Baron Trowa Barton-Yuy, lesser in rank only to the high Dukes and honored above all except the prince and the Warrior King himself by being made General. Heero frowned. "If an offer is made, though," he said, looking at his brother, "I will allow you to think it over. I will not promise a marriage to a girl you don't love." That, Trowa thought as he nodded, went without saying. He knew Heero would never force him to do anything he didn't want to do. Except, of course, accept a title that Trowa had no use for. He swallowed a chuckle with a mouthful of wine. "Sheneva is bigger than both Sangria and Jendae," Wufei said, "so it may be more beneficial for you to marry a noble of this kingdom, or even Princess Relena herself. I have spoken with the young woman. She is intelligent and sharp-witted. I believe she will make an excellent regional governor . . . or queen." Trowa had to fight not to smile at his brother's expense. Heero was still a little too young for marriage, by royal custom. And obviously the thought of it made him uncomfortable. "That's something I will discuss with Father . . . later," Heero evaded. Much later, by his tone. Wufei smirked and changed the subject. "This feast you are leaving me to plan will be a festive gala. I decided to go with a masque, because there is something of a poetic irony in that. There is much excited whispering in the castle and around the city, and I have heard ladies going all out to buy the finest costumes to impress their new Prince. And Relena sent a formal request, who shall be her escort?" Heero looked slightly cornered again. "It cannot be me. If I escort her, she will believe her position as governor is secured, and I don't want to create that illusion. The purpose of this . . . gala . . . is to determine if she is best suited. Wufei, will she take slight if it is you or Trowa?" "Me, I am not royalty. My position demands utmost respect, but some of the greater nobles may think me beneath her station. None in Venya would agree, but we are in Sheneva. Trowa, I believe that would be acceptable if he was presented as 'Baron' rather than 'General.' He is, after all, your brother." Trowa resigned himself at once when Heero looked at him with the request in his eyes. Heero would never demand, but Trowa would never decline. He bowed his head in acquiescence. "I will escort her." "Thank you," Heero said, a brief smile flicking over his lips. "Excellent," Wufei said. "It will behoove you, Heero, to go over that list Trowa made for you. There is more than simply names and blood ties within it. There also describes alliances between the Great Houses. The Chamberlain is a shrewd man. He's learned to observe closely and remain unobtrusive, being right-hand man to an unpredictable king." "I'll study it," Heero promised. "When is the feast?" "Night after tomorrow night," Wufei answered. "I thought you could use a day between of rest. And to re-draft all the kingdom laws. They need be written in your hand." This time, Trowa could not stop the smile at the irritated look his brother gave the sorcerer. Wufei chuckled. "I was told by the scribes that you ordered all the documents burned of those who were kept in the dungeons?" the sorcerer went on. "Did someone read them first?" "They were the first things I read," Heero said, "long before the scribes got here. They were all charges of treason for their mutinous muttering about the king's regime." "I see," Wufei said. He seemed to get lost in thought. "I went to see the Myda," Heero said, now addressing Trowa directly. A hint of a smile flashed over Trowa's lips. "Indeed? They are certainly volatile of temperament." Heero drank another sip of wine, looking thoughtful. "Really? I found them reasonable and helpful." It was Trowa's turn to frown. "Helpful?" "Yes. I asked them if they might have any clues as to Grascien's reasons for a foolish mission to Wythiera to capture two young Myda." "And they answered?" Trowa couldn't help asking. Heero nodded. "Yes. They were both quite at ease." For some reason, that rankled Trowa's pride. He, who was so good with animals, could not win over two injured Myda that he had helped save, but his brother who never had a thing to do with animals earned their trust in a single meeting? During which he questioned them? Wufei snorted. "Don't allow your irritation to show so clearly. It's all over your face." Mortified, Trowa tried to school his expression. "I am sorry. I . . . am not irritated. Rather, I —" "Felt your pride was injured," Wufei cut him off before he could finish. "Well, I suppose one must consider this. Myda are wild animals, without question. But would they appreciate being treated thus, by a human?" "I simply thought to make them more comfortable by showing I am not a threat —" Trowa began. "And you, Heero?" Wufei interrupted. "How did you approach them?" Trowa watched his brother consider. Heero shrugged. "I suppose as I would approach anyone." Wufei smiled at Trowa. "There you are. I'm sure the kittens appreciated being spoken to as though they were reasonable, observant people rather than frightened and aggressive animals who could not be predicted." Trowa flushed. "I . . . see." Heero looked at him oddly. "I'm sorry, brother," he murmured, reminding Trowa sharply of the seven-year-old boy who'd been so thrilled at having an older sibling. "I didn't mean to insult you." Trowa shook his head fiercely. "You did not," he insisted. You could not. "You just reminded me I don't know everything, which is something every man should know." He grinned at his brother. Heero immediately returned it, boyish and attractive. Trowa felt that little tug in his heart that he felt every time his words or actions made Heero smile. Wufei smiled broadly. "Good. Heero, don't forget that you don't know everything, either." Heero shot him an indignant glare, and Trowa burst out
laughing.
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