Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. I'd like to steal Duo and Quatre though, but I think I will be forever hunted by Heero and Trowa. . . LIFE JUST ISN'T FAIR!!!


Warnings: Alternate Universe. Yaoi, 1x2, 3x4, 5xH, 6xN, magic, ghosts, a kinda OOC Heero 'cause he is. . . very troubled and frustrated. . . ahem. I based this story to a book, but I won't tell the title because you might guess the ending if you read it!


Feedbacks: PLEASE!!! Reviews and opinions are always welcome!!! ONEGAAIIII!!!!!


~ Ghost speaking ~

'Thoughts'

"Words"

//telepathy//

. . . . .

OF LEGENDS AND MAGIC

. . . . .

Chapter One: Beware of the Amethyst-eyed One

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A huge stone castle stood in the midst of lands shrouded by the shadows of the night, its gray façade becoming darker as the moon hid behind multiple wisps of clouds in the sky, refusing to give light to the gloomy nighttime. Even a thousand candles failed to dispel the darkness surrounding the great medieval edifice that was Lowe Castle with its lurking shadows and ancient secrets that had gathered for many centuries.


While most people would be asleep at this ungodly hour of the evening, one part of the castle, or rather one room exactly, held the present master of Lowe Castle. He was pacing back and forth in front of a roaring hearth dressed only in a linen shirt with the first three buttons opened, leather breeches that clung to his powerful thighs and black boots, trying-but not entirely successful-to ignore the sensation of being watched by a dozen pairs of painted eyes and the feeling that a specter might glide out from a portrait as soon as his back is turned.


Heero Yuy should have been accustomed to it by now since he had all his life, lived inside the big stone castle and hell, he was. . . but the gravity of the business he was about to conduct is of a most private nature, thus he can't help but feel anxious. . . and impatient.


Quatre should have known by now how impatient Heero was at dire times like this.


He stopped, disturbed by the sudden stirring of the hairs on his nape, turned and glared at the wall littered with portraits of his ancestors. "Damned ghosts. . ." he muttered under his breath, and chose to ignore the sound when an answering snicker resounded from one particular portrait. Instead, he went to sit at the huge carved armchair beside the hearth, its burning embers casting a demonic glow over Heero's expressionless face.


After a few minutes of controlling his impatience-by silently reminding himself that he had sent his cousin Quatre a missive three hours ago and that he and his mate Trowa lives on the other side of Sanq lands, which is probably why they aren't here yet-he took out a gleaming, intricately designed golden cross embedded with precious stones from inside his shirt. As he looked at the priceless treasure in his hand, his mouth twisted in a look of self-loathing. He tried to resist the temptation for a moment more, but his resolve vanished when a voice started talking.


A swish of the wind, a flick of a candle, then a deep voice was heard throughout the room.

~ Come on, boy, you know you wanted to see. . . ~


This time, Heero glared at the snickering portrait of his most famous, or rather infamous ancestor Lord Odin Lowe.


"Shut up." He said, turning to the cross once again.


~ Why do you keep denying yourself of seeing the future without your painful visions? You are really one sick boy. ~


"Hn. Says the person who was burned at the stake four centuries ago. And for the last time, I refuse to be called a boy!"


Odin just continued to snicker.


~ Use the cross. . . do it. . . ~


And with that, Heero found that he couldn't contain his curiosity anymore. He closed his eyes and clutched the cross close to his chest. He felt that familiar tingling sensation whenever he had visions of the future begin, painful at first as though hundreds of hot needles pricked the back of his eyes. . . and then, a hazy picture began to take shape. . . of a face. Swirls of clouds continued to obscure the rest of the face. . . but the eyes remained clear, its amethyst depths looking straight at him.


'Amethyst-eyed one,' Heero thought. He strained harder to see the face of the person but he was loosing it, the pain behind his eyes increasing, becoming more intense. As the vision blurred, he was seized by a feeling of foreboding, of an impending danger. . . this person is going to prove to be his undoing.


"The Amethyst-eyed one comes. . . beware. . ."


Heero murmured unknowingly as the vision completely vanished, then he tucked the cross inside his shirt once again.


The Amethyst-eyed one comes. . . beware. . . What the hell does that mean? Heero scowled. He wanted to see the future, to sneak one peek of who his Mate would be, but it seems the cross is trying to warn him about his Mate. 'Hn. Who else can prove to be my undoing beside my own Mate?'


He stood up and paced again, his earlier impatience returning with a vengeance, and this time, coupled with a most basic urge to release his raging desire.


Heero can feel it. . . that hunger that went bone deep, far beyond mere lust. A basic instinct of old, a longing as wild and powerful as the sea crashing below the cliffs of his castle. . . a desperate loneliness that clawed constantly at Heero. He tried to resist, but found that he can't fight it any longer, so he did the unbelievable and sent for Quatre. The brown haired young man halted in his steps and swore vehemently at this one facet of his family's curse. Any descendant of Lord Odin Lowe knew when the time had come to mate, it is in their destiny for one family member, preferably an Empath, to be the finder of Mates for all of them. So the duty fell on Quatre's shoulders.


'Speaking of the devil. . .'


He could feel himself tensing, his senses becoming more alert. He wanted to believe that his senses are far-reaching, but he knew better. He was sensing his two cousins arriving, the sounds of clattering hoof beats of several horses so clear to his hearing. He also knew when Quatre and Trowa emerged from the carriage, the tall, handsome young man helping his little blond love, who was FAR from being a devil since he looked utterly angelic, alight it.


'Hn. Probably just to touch each other.' Heero thought sardonically. He brought two of his fingers up to his right temple and focused on the heavy main door of the castle. Below the front steps of Lowe Castle, the large door opened unaided.


On the grounds of the castle, Quatre stepped out of Trowa's arms and looked at the opened door, sighing. "Heero must be really desperate to the point where he would disturb us at this time of night. He didn't say anything about what he wanted."


Trowa took Quatre's hand and kissed it. "Don't worry, Little One, I'll make sure he will be reprimanded for dragging us out of bed." He smiled gently at his blond Mate. Quatre returned the smile and inclined his head at the door. "Come on, Trowa, let's see what Lord high-and-mighty Heero wants from us."


They went straight to the west wing, passing numerous rooms and corridors, knowing that Heero is there. Every door that they encountered opened by itself, but they just ignored it, knowing all about Heero's powers. As the last door opened, they were treated at the sight of a slightly annoyed and pacing Heero.


Trowa smirked. "Good evening, Heero." //Love, I think this is a good enough punishment for our cousin.//


//Trowa, stop it! Umm. . . but I do think so, too.// Quatre giggled, then he said, "Hello, Heero!!!"


"It's about damned time you got here." Heero muttered, trying to control the need to shout at his two cousins. But he composed himself and stood straight. "Please, sit down."


Quatre and Trowa looked at each other, then sat on the two chairs opposite Heero's armchair, where he sat himself.


"Heero," Quatre began, "sorry if we were late but. . ."


Heero waved off his explanation. "Hn. I have a very clear idea what you and Trowa were doing so please, spare me the details. . ." Heero admonished as Quatre blushed and an alluring smile appeared on Trowa's otherwise serene face. Heero scowled as he felt a strange feeling inside him whenever Trowa and Quatre are present. . .


'Envy. . .?'


Heero shook his head and stood up to pace again, his nerves getting to him. Then he faced his blond cousin.


"Quatre, I called you. . . because I need you to find my Mate."


Trowa looked a bit surprised, his exposed green eye widening slightly. Quatre, however, was enthusiastic. He stood up and went to Heero. "Really, Heero!!?? Don't worry, we'll be going to town as soon as possible and find him or her-"


"I don't care what gender my Mate has, as long as he-or she-reads books, knows how to ride a horse, is a prudent, practical, objective---"


"Wait a minute! Finding your Mate isn't something like that!!! I have to rely to my instincts!"


"---and tall person, probably as tall as myself, and he or she should not possess a curious nature, God knows what would happen when my Mate founds out about the secrets of this family. . ."


"Heero!!"


". . . did you get that?"


Quatre exhaled slowly. "Heero. . ." he warned.


". . . no matter, here's the list I made for what I want."


"HEERO!!! I told you it isn't like that!!! I'm to find you your Mate, not to buy you a horse!!!" Quatre yelled, unable to stop himself.


Heero stopped in his tirade, stunned at a rare sight of an exasperated Quatre.


Trowa grinned, totally charmed by the unusual scene of his angered angel and a dumbfounded cousin. "Good one, love. You just rendered our Heero here speechless." He went to Quatre and pressed a deep, passionate kiss on his lips, savoring the taste of his one love. Quatre gasped and kissed him back. "You're so beautiful when you're angry."


Heero rolled his eyes, his gut clenching at his own need. "For God's sake, not in front of me!" he growled, and avoided looking at them.


Quatre chuckled as soon as Trowa released his lips. //Love, not now. Heero is. . . suffering. We can do it later. . . in our room.// Quatre's eyes shone mischievously.


Trowa looked lost for a moment. //Suffering?// Then he peeked at the flushed and uncomfortable Heero, and understanding dawned at him. //Oh.// He smirked again. //Fine.//


Quatre turned to Heero and tried to explain. "Heero, as I said, finding your Mate isn't like buying. . ." when he saw the stubborn look on his cousin's face, Quatre grumpily relented, ". . . fine, fine, give me the damned list." He grumbled.


Heero smiled slightly, relieved, and started to hand the list over to Quatre. "Remember everything in the list but most of all, remember that my Mate shouldn't possess amethyst eyes!"


Quatre stopped short from holding the list. "What?!" Then he shook his head. "Never mind." But before he can get a proper hold of the list, a blast of wind caused the parchment to fly out if his hand. . . and straight into the blazing hearth.


"Damn!" Heero swore, then he focused his power to prevent the list from going into the fire. It stopped in mid-air, then went to Heero's hand. "Here, and hold it tightly!" he handed Quatre the parchment and made sure that it was secured in Quatre's hand. Then he scowled at the painting of their ancestor. "This is Odin's doing."


Trowa and Quatre stared at him. "ODIN??!!" then they turned to look at the portrait that dominated the other paintings on the wall. Lord Odin Lowe was smirking at them, as usual. But this time, a definite glow of satisfaction was evident on his painted eyes. Heero glared once more at the painting. "Odin, you spawn of Satan!!!"


Another snicker. ~ You got that right. . . ~


//Did you hear what I heard?// Trowa asked with his mind.


Quatre nodded, unnerved. Then he sighed, ignoring their recalcitrant ancestor. "Anyway, Heero, I forgot to tell you that you need to go with us. . ."


"Why the hell do I need to?!" Heero asked, scowling fiercely.


Quatre sighed again. "How else could you woo your Mate?!" he demanded.


"Pay him or her as much as he or she likes."


This time, Trowa intervened, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Heero, you cannot buy your Mate." He said, his voice quiet but tinged of a hinted irritation.


Heero's eyes hardened. "People do that all the time. My father did with my mother. And she wasn't even his destined Mate."


It seemed Trowa was going to say something to counter Heero but Quatre stopped him by holding his hand. //Trowa, don't.// Trowa looked at his Mate, his green eye blazing. //Why are you stopping me? Heero should know how priceless one's Mate is!// But Quatre shook his head.


Heero was only watching them, his face as expressionless as ever.


//Trowa. . . Heero had been through many things in his life, almost all of them are not good. . . we should understand him. . . and besides, once his Mate arrives, I'm sure he will be enlightened.//


//Are you sure about this?//


Quatre nodded. //I'm sure. I promise to find Heero's Mate and I know it within my heart that he will make a difference.// Quatre stared pleadingly at Trowa with his aquamarine eyes, squeezing the other's hand tightly.


And who can resist such beautiful eyes? 'Certainly not me.' Trowa thought as he sighed. He answered with a nod and a smile while squeezing Quatre's hand back. //I understand.// Then he turned to Heero, who was still looking at them. "I'm sorry, Heero, I let my anger get to me."


Heero blinked, then shook his head. "Do not worry about that. I, too, am to blame. I apologize, Trowa."


Trowa's exposed brow raised. //An apology? Hm, sexual tension sure changed our cousin.// Quatre giggled as Trowa smiled, then the tall youth swung his arm around his Mate's shoulder. "It's nothing. Now, if you don't mind, We'll be retiring to our room. Quatre and I were in a very promising position when your messenger arrived. . . and we really do like to go back to where we stopped. Don't worry, we still know the way around the castle. Tomorrow morning, we'll start looking for your Mate but until then. . ." he shrugged, grinning seductively at Quatre, who blushed a fiery red.


Heero smiled slightly as the pair exited the room, but after the door swung close, his smile vanished instantly.


'Damned curse. . .'


And he, once again, sat on the huge armchair, trying to ignore the sudden tightening of his breeches and the deep, never-ending craving inside his soul.

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Tbc. . .

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Mattaku. . . another AU to write. . . hopefully, I could finish this. . . depends on the readers, *winkwink*. Read And Review!!!!!

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Sooo. . . should I continue this?

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