Title: Sabaku no Hana – GW Adaptation
Disclaimer: GW belongs to Bandai or whomever respectively. I'm just borrowing them for harmless little fun.
Pairing: 2+1 sometime soon, I guess. I'm not sure about others yet.
Rating: PG-13
Warning: AU. OOC. Incompetent writing. Most likely some shonen-ai material. Please do not take this warning lightly. I really do mean OOC in big, bold, italic letters. Oops. Forgot to mention minor Relena-bashing.
Author's notes: This is my first time writing a 'fanfic'. Plus, I've never watched the show except for Endless Waltz…a scary combination. Some ideas from Weis and Hickman's fantasy series, Rose of Ahkran or something. Some ideas are from Hobbs' Assassin series, some from Eddings, and more. Yikes. It's a weird collage. *waving disclaimer flag* Hopefully I didn't rip off any other person's fanfic either. Let me know otherwise. *sweatdrop* I write strangely, too. *ramble, ramble* Hmm… Please be nice, though… ^^;;
Feedback: C&C greatly appreciated at jion@idx.com.au
Summary: In a faraway kingdom, all is not as it seems…
.prologue.
The king paced back and forth across a rich marble floor. His shadow flickered nervously in the dim corridor, lit by a row of candle lights that stretched across the walls. Outside the window, a dark storm brewed quietly; tension charged up in its murky clouds. It was an ominous sign on such a day, they whispered.
Beyond a solid wooden door, the worried man could hear moans that stretched his heart. It was going for too long, he muttered unconsciously. A thunder rumbled. Another pain-filled scream. He could imagine his young beautiful queen, her face covered with sheen of sweat, lustrous blue-black hair matted with tears.
In what seemed like hours of torment later, he could hear a shrill piercing of an infant cry echoing faintly through the empty hall. The king slumped on the wall, relief and joy releasing the tight knot in his stomach. His firstborn had taken its first breath in the world.
He didn't know how long he sat on the cold floor, contently chuckling before the door opened.
"Your Majesty."
The king raised his eyes to see a healer, pale and tired. Her eyes looked troubled. He smiled at her, somewhat foolishly. "Your royal heirs are born," she reported softly.
The man looked blankly at the fretful healer, then frowned as her news took a minute to be processed. "Heirs?" He echoed slowly, emphasizing as if to check.
The blond woman sighed. Men and pregnancy. Repeated more slowly. "Yes, sire. The Queen has born twins."
It began to rain. The storm had broken.
.one.
In a secluded north tower of the palace, two young figures stepped warily around each other, one whom could not be of more than fifteen summers. Steel glinted in the morning sun, they eyed each other warily before engaging, swords clanging. Beads of sweat formed on their foreheads, breaths slightly harsh, the two concentrated in their practice, careful not to inflict serious harm. It was a skilful and a beautiful dance, one that played before, many, many times.
They pulled back mutually, bowing respectfully and shielding their weapons. The older boy smiled ruefully. "You have improved, princess," he praised the other. "Soon, there will be not many tricks left for me to teach, your Highness."
His opponent shot him an annoyed glare, deep cobalt eyes tinged with slight exasperation. "I told you not to call me that, Gawyn," the girl muttered. She pulled back a straying piece of long dark brown hair from her face, revealing features breathtakingly beautiful. Fine brow, large eyes that reflected light in shades of blue, delicate jaw, she was slender for her age, promising great beauty for years to come; indeed, she was deserved every inch of the title, Blue Sapphire of the West. The younger twin of the Firstborn, Solo Yuy, and the King's only daughter; a gentle figure greatly loved by all her subjects.
Gawyn shrugged. "It's your title after all, Heero."
"I know," she replied dryly. I hear it everyday. The girl turned to go down the stairs and the young swordsmaster followed. "But do I really have to bear it during lessons that aren't supposed to exist?"
Gawyn groaned. "Don't remind me how much trouble I'm risking here, teaching a wayward princess how to fight." The young man smiled teasingly.
Heero turned to her tutor with sincere gratitude in her intense eyes. "I know, Gawyn. I know." Unspoken thanks.
Gawyn looked away discomforted, blushing. "Let's get back before the servants awake." Heero nodded in agreement.
They crept discretely through the waking castle. It was easy to pass unnoticed here. Not many guards were posted in the North Wing, since it was a part of the castle that faced the Caela Ocean. The Sanq castle was built on solid cliff by the stormy seas. Three high walls defended the castle towards the land and the town; towards the ocean, the castle carved deep into the rock until it reached the in-built docks at the bottom. The sparseness of the guards made the North tower a perfect place for the princess to ask secret lessons from the young swordsmaster for the past two years. She was an adept pupil, quick to learn and even quicker to surprise her mentor with unexpected moves.
It was almost a pity that Heero was born a girl, Gawyn thought.
She parted with Gawyn and quietly entered her room. Shedding the comfort of the leather pants and simple loose shirt, she washed herself and quickly made herself presentable. Simple jewelry calmed her usually messy hair, and a keepsake necklace from her Mother who passed away when they were still young. Light blue dress that hid her slender yet wiry figure powered with unshakable will. As she finished, Heero glanced at the mirror. A perfect princess looked at her with ever-present seriousness.
If they only knew that this is all a lie.
**
With the passing of the Queen's unexpected death, King Yuy had transformed from a promising cheerful king to a withdrawn, emotionless ruler, whose only joy were the children that his beloved had left behind. It had pushed the young prince and princess to rapid maturity, putting weight on their fragile shoulders since young.
Solo Yuy, unlike his twin sister, had inherited the sandy blond hair of his father, although with the same piercing blue eyes of their mother. He was a charismatic bright young man, tall and regal, with a cheer that was difficult to kill. An exact opposite of his solemn younger, shorter sister, although they were equally respected. The kingdom was lucky to have them both grown up so finely, the people said. The Goddess must be smiling upon us, they said.
It was a few weeks before the Royal children's sixteenth birthday that His Highness, Heir-Prince Solo Yuy and Her Highness, Princess Heero Yuy was invited cordially to the neighboring kingdom of the Peacecraft royalty. It was turning of the age for Her Highness, Princess Relena Peacecraft. The Yuy's accepted with somewhat dread (masked skillfully, of course); but on the day of departure, Solo stumbled from his horse and broke his leg. Regrettably, he was declared unfit to go.
Heero looked at her older brother skeptically. He was lying on his bed, his left leg bound in thick white cast, resting in a sling hanging from the ceiling. The Heir of Sanq moaned in pain, pathetically, eyes squeezed shut.
"There is something simple called 'refusal', if you did not wish to attend." The princess remarked wryly. It did not take her long to figure out that this was a deliberate ruse. Solo Yuy was considered as the one of the finest riders in the kingdom – he did begin riding a horse before he walked, after all.
Her brother opened his eyes and raised one eyebrow. "Like what you're doing?"
"Point taken." Somewhat defensively. "She's not that bad."
"Please, if I ever see so much pink in my life again, it's going to strike me blind," Solo voiced her thoughts. "Relena must have gathered every pink items across her land."
"She's going through a phase." Calm.
Retort. "Remind me to see her in a hundred years."
Heero stared at her brother with a disapproving frown. "She's a prospective Queen and an invaluable ally."
"If she's the only wife for me," the prince flared his arms dramatically, "we're all doomed anyway."
Heero laughed out loud richly despite herself. It was rare to see the princess laugh so open and freely and Solo took pride in the fact that those times were usually in and due to his presence. He peered at his sister closely. The laughter had all but erased the constant frown and seriousness from her face, and threw years off her appearance revealing a hidden child. Heero was truly getting more beautiful each day, he noted and couldn't ignore a tightness in his chest.
"I'll give her your warmest regards then." Heero said wicked glint in her eyes.
The Heir shot her a warning scowl. Then he grinned back. "Don't forget to show some to Milliardo." Heero's cheeks tinged red and Solo chortled. The charming older brother of Relena was relentless in pursuing the hand of the Blue Sapphire and made had no qualms about reminding that fact. Heero glared at the boy.
Abruptly, his expression turned solemn, Solo reached forth and hugged his only sister in a bear hug. "Take care, imouto."
The princess squirmed free and crossed her arms in front of her chest haughtily. "I can take care of myself. Anyway," she said disdainfully. "It's only a boat ride, to and back."
Solo groaned. His head fell heavily in his hands in defeat. "Dear girl, for the thousandth time, it's called a ship. Not a boat. A ship."
**
The fundamental difference between a boat and a ship,
is that boats are prone to sinking and ships rarely do."Well in this case, my brother," Heero gritted her teeth. "I was right."
A few days after departing, the calm surface of the sea had suddenly turned violent, the winds howling as if the Furies were driving it themselves. Wet sprays stung her face, pasting her face with her long hair. Heero desperately hung on to her rope to prevent herself from being thrown into the hungry sea. All she could see was the water, all she could hear was the wind and the roar of the ocean, the boat tossing helplessly from wave to wave like a toy in the hands of a curious babe.
The boat creaked loudly. It tottered so on the verge of breaking that it would be 'safer' on survive the storm on deck rather than below.
"I am going to kill who said that," was the only thought in the princess' head as the storm continued.
The ship lurched. Heero slipped on her long dress and in a moment's error and tiredness, lost her tenuous grip on the ropes. As she was flung backward and sunk in the water into a depthless darkness, the young princess imagined she saw such sadness in the blueness of her brother's eyes, she almost couldn't bear it.
But that could just have been the blue ocean.
**
Hot.
Wet.
Thirsty.
How can I be wet and thirsty at the same time? With this realization, the princess awoke.
Heero's opened her eyes with effort. They felt as heavy as lead; in fact, all her limbs were leads. Her consciousness was being dragged back in, and it hurt so much, it hurt to breathe, ah gods… The shipwrecked girl moaned in agony. All her muscles were aching and on fire; she felt small tears helplessly forming in the corner of her eyes. She could feel distantly that she was lying on gritty sand, water lapping at her feet periodically.
How the hell did I survive? Heero thought rather ungratefully.
The princess lay still for a long time. Her mouth was dry, and she licked her lips only to find more salt to feed her thirst. The unforgiving sun beat down at her unmercifully, but she couldn't build up the strength to stand, let alone lift a finger. Heero felt dizzy, but that kind of helped to forget her pain and she was glad.
Ironic, she mused, to die actually on land.
World blacked out.
**
Sands sloshing. Bells…no steel clanging.
Discordant voices.
"…another victim of shipwreck…a foreign wom…"
Smell of sweat. Iron.
"…ead or alive--?" Exclamation. "She's still br…"
Touch. Head tilted up.
Silence. Awe. Whispers.
"…ing her this way."
Darkness.
**
When Heero woke again, it was to a merciful coolness. She lay on something soft and something about her clothes felt…different. It wasn't wet and clinging tightly, for one. But it also felt lighter and more fine and…
The princess opened her eyes. A dome of tent loomed above her. She sat up groggily. A travel carpet stretched to cover the floor; she was resting on a couple of big cushions that made a makeshift bed. She was rescued then.
She was pondering her situation when a flap of the tent door drew her attention to a man who entered. His travel-worn clothes suggested a merchant of some sort; he had a black short beard with a cloth wrapped about his head. The black eyes looked at her intently. Heero repressed a shiver.
He asked a question in a guttural tongue. The princess widened her eyes as she vaguely recognised the speech.
"Who are you?" he asked again in heavily accented Kings Dialect.
The ship must have sheered off its course due to the storm. Extremely. Off. If her guesses and education was correct, she seemed somehow to have stranded a thousand leagues south not west from her home. She rolled her eyes inwardly at the great navigation skills of the boatsmen. Gathering her tattered pride, Heero spoke calmly. "I am Princess Heero Yuy of the Sanq Kingdom. Thank you for your kind help, sir."
The man looked at her vacantly.
Heero continued. "If you could assist me to the nearest town, I'll make sure that you would be richly awarded." She waited expectantly. But what she didn't count on was a sharp bark of laughter. Nor was the princess relieved by the calculating gleam in the merchant's narrowing eyes.
"As insane as beautiful," he remarked. The man reached his blunt hands and grasped the shocked girl's chin, studying her face and murmuring appreciative sounds. "But I suppose it doesn't matter whether if you have any intelligence or no…You will fetch me a fortune."
Initial shock worn off, Heero angrily cast away the offending hand with a well-practiced move. The man stepped away lightly and his smile grew wider. "Feisty as well."
The princess glowered at him with dark eyes. "How dare you touch me like that! I am the—"
"What." The burly man looked at the younger lewdly, up and down. "A princess?" He scoffed.
Belatedly, Heero realized that the clothes that she wore were no longer what she had donned originally. A silk black pants hung loosely around her ankles, its semitransparent material showing her shapely long legs. Her top was a deep olive of similar fabric cut teasingly around her flat stomach. A set of sensual clothes that all together showed too clearly, a young slender form attractive and firm. But a body that did not belong to a fifteen year old girl.
Masaka.
A big hand touched 'her' flat chest. Heero looked up sharply. The man's face was inches away from the princess' face and Heero backed unconsciously. "I don't see any girl here," the merchant smirked as he leaned down at the ashen-faced boy.
Automatically flexing 'her' legs, Heero smashed 'her' knees to the other's groin and broke free as the man crumbled with a yell. 'She' shot across the short distance of the tent and flung the flap outside under a hot glaring sun. As Heero searched for a way to disappear, 'her' blue eyes widened in dismay.
Everywhere 'her' sight reached, 'she' saw sand. The glowing sun pelted cruelly from the cloudless sky, reflecting on the desert sands and stabbing 'her' eyes. Tents supposedly belonging merchant stood lonely amongst these vast sand dunes, camels and other livestock to one side. The men of the camp stopped their activity at the loud outburst and stared at the young intruder. Many who had chains stretched across their hands and legs.
An unseen hand grabbed his hand and twisted it back painfully. Heero struggled but gasped as he felt the merchant give it a sharp tug. The bigger man grasped his waist to immobilize the boy and Heero lay still. It would be futile to try and break free from the larger, stronger merchant – especially with nowhere to hide or run. Fear clogged his system, bleeding away his strength.
The man breathed harshly across one ear. "If you do that again, pretty child, you will regret it." The trader said matter-of-factly, giving another excruciating twist, almost tearing his arm out of the socket and Heero bit his lower lip to stifle his yell. The boy knew that the threat was not an idle promise. He knew what he saw, and what kind of man held him prisoner. Heero's heart tightened with a palpable chill.
He was in slave-trader's camp.
AN: Sorry about Heero's OOC and his terrible situation (yes, he is a boy from the beginning)… There is a reason to that. Duo will make his entrance too…If I write the next chapter, that is…Should I continue this… or not…? Let me know, please! O.o;;