Title: Blue Eyes
Author: Zoisite NightDragon
Pairings: 13x4, and any others I stumble into along the way...
Status: Erm... it's finished in my head... really.
Disclaimer/Warnings/etc: yaoi, angst, lemon ... I don't
own them, so don't sue me. You'll only get an old puter and a pair of spoiled
Daschunds and an evil, ill-tempered cat. Probably all sorts of Relena bashing in
the future. This will not be all music, of course. I usually use songs for
prologue and epilogues for some reason of my own. Very AU. Don't expect to see a
Gundam in this. I'll make it up and try to fit the next 13x4 of mine into the
timeline.
Blue eyes
Baby's got blue eyes
Like a deep blue sea
On a blue blue day
Holding the reins of his horse, Treize Khushrenada gazed down the long drive to
his estate. The rays of the setting sun played across the blades of green grass
covering the rolling lawns, made deep shadows in the two rows of oaks that made
a natural canopy over the lane. Stepping into that gathering darkness, Treize's
eyes never strayed from the house, seeking vainly the thing he knew he never
would. The sunken grave he'd been to on the hill had taken that dream and
smashed it to pieces at his feet like a delicate vase on a uncaringly hard
floor.
Blue eyes
Baby's got blue eyes
When the morning comes
I'll be far away
And I say
There was no sunny face there waiting to greet him, eager arms to be thrown
around his waist. There would be no soft kisses spattered across his own lips
and cheeks, no more excited questions on where he'd been, what he'd seen, or who
he'd met. There were no smiles for him or laughter at the small presents he had
in his saddlebags. Never again would he hear the voice calling for him through
the empty rooms of his house or the music of a violin drifting to his ears while
he worked. Someone had taken his own private star and put it out for a few
trinkets. Looking over his shoulder, he could almost see Quatre sitting on the
whitewash fence, waving to him and telling him to bring him back a new book from
Sanq as he had the day he'd left. He had been wearing the blue riding outfit
that Treize had made for him. Blue had been his favourite colour.
Blue eyes
Holding back the tears
Holding back the pain
Baby's got blue eyes
And he's alone again
With the sound of his own steps on the white gravel below, the thought of those
eyes he loved to gaze into late at night filling with pained tears haunted him.
According to what he'd been told at the Constable's office, thieves had broken
into his home while he'd been gone. Perhaps Quatre had surprised them in
midtheft or they could have found him sleeping. No one knew. All they did know
was that he'd been violently murdered in the hall before the maindoors. It had
been with a nightmarish unrealness that he'd stood there in the stuff room of
the Constable's office as he'd told him about the fansprays of blood that had
reached even the ceiling. He could see too clearly in his mind's eye Quatre
screaming his name for help before they finally cut his throat. He had been so
small. Couldn't they have just had pity on the weak and made it quick and
painless? A strong man could have snapped his lover's neck.
Blue eyes
Baby's got blue eyes
Like a clear blue sky
Watching over me
Blue eyes
I love blue eyes
When I'm by his side
Where I long to be
I will see
Handing his reins off to one of the servants, Treize wearily climbed the marble
stairs that lead to the sweeping porch and glass doors. For a time, his hand
rested on the cold knob, staring at the scrubbed clean spot on the floor
separated from him by only panes of glass. Even with all that had been done to
the expensive stone flooring, dark taints still laid along it like an
accusation. If he had been here... if he hadn't gone for that emergency meeting
with Relena's advisors... if he had just came home early... or taken Quatre with
him, public opinion and talk be damned. Opening the door, Treize moved into the
darkening coolness of the hall. Unable to resist the morbid temptation, he
crouched beside the spot, fingers straying across the splattered patterns now
part of the stone. Quatre... gone...
Blue eyes laughing in the sun
Laughing in the rain
Baby's got blue eyes
And I am home, and I am home again
Violin music swirled about him without warning, breaking the funeral silence of
his home. Standing, Treize's winter night blue eyes snapped to the ceiling above
him, wanting to know who would -dare- touch his dead lover's instrument. Whoever
it was would be lucky not to end their shift with a rapier ran through them.
Taking the stairs two at a time, his thoughts whirled and swarmed like a nest of
hornets. The fool was even playing on of Quatre's compositions. A dark scowl
painted over Treize's handsome features, twisting it into a bad parody of grief
and rage. As he reached the half open door of his bedroom, the door snapped shut
in his face, the violin on the other side screeching to a discordant halt as if
the musician were startled suddenly or had the bow jerked away. A soft sobbing
and a whispered call of Treize's own name came from the other side of the heavy
oak door.
"Quatre?" he asked, tugging on the door, the lock on the other side
catching and keeping it closed. "Quatre, I'm here. Just let me in. Just
open the door. Don't be afraid, little one. Just let me in..."
The fact that he was babbling was lost on Treize as he fought the door. Quatre
was here. It had to been someone else they buried thinking it was him. He had
been told that the face had been badly destroyed, only the clothing and rare
shade of his blonde hair making him as Khushrenada's lover. Stepping back as the
cries within became more panicked, Trieze kicked the door as hard as he could,
shattering wood and metal apart. Blue eyes lashed from side to side within the
now empty room. Tearing through the closets, he sent clothing flying, ripping
aside his own racks of suits and uniforms to see if the blonde were hiding
behind them in his fright. The blankets were jerked off of his bed and thrown to
the other side of the room for him to look under. His own voice was growing
ragged and desperate as he kept calling that single name over and over...
Treize sat in the gloom, perched on his own bed that he had pulled apart until
one of his servants grew brave enough to venture upstairs. Most were sure that
their master had gone insane with the loss of his love. Candlelight splashed
across the walls as Petri pushed open the door, letting the warm illumination
chase away the shadows. "Master Treize?"
"I heard him in here."
Petri sighed, debating with himself. Master Treize's family had always taken
care of his own. Seeing the stricken expression on the lord's face was enough
convincing. "I know. We all have. We sometimes see him in the hall looking
out the windows for you. He's sometimes up here playing his violin, but when we
go to check, its still locked up. Hilde saw him last night in the hall crying
and trying to get up..."
Treize's gaze rose to meet the other man's, disbelief slowly turning to belief.
Petri continued, wanting to quail under those empty eyes. "She tried to
touch him, but he vanished. Some say they hear him up here crying or running
around while they're downstairs."
"Then he's still here..."
-----------------------------
Part One - Thing That Go Bump in the Night
-----------------------------
Treize Khushrenada stared at his breakfast; unable to eat more than one mouthful that had tasted dusty and stale in his mouth regardless of all the time one of the best chefs in all the area had taken on it. He and Petri had talked for a time the night before as he allowed himself to be led about like a child, dressed in his nightclothes, and then put to bed.
"He's not alive, Master Treize. Hilde, Wufei, myself, and your friends, Heero and Duo Yuy buried him."
"But you said…"
"I said we saw him, as in we saw his spirit."
"Spirit?"
Petri had sighed, tucking the covers about Treize at that time, picking up the candle that had lit his way. "I mean that he's a ghost, Master Treize. He is dead. His spirit will roam though until Justice is done or someone puts it at rest."
Resting his elbows on the table and cradling his face in his hands, Treize could easily believe that. Anything was better than believing that he was fully gone. Rubbing his eyes, the rattling chimes of the front door was harsh on his ears. The last thing he wanted to do was talk to anyone. Rising to his feet, a pair of beetle-black eyes studying him from across the room captured his own. He was used to the formal manner of Wufei Chang, head of security for his home and grounds, but it was different today. There was a coldness there that hadn't been before his trip. Ignoring the insistent call of the door, Treize rose slowly with his gaze still locked on the dispassionate one of the Chinese male's as he lingered in the doorway. "Something I can help you with Wufei?"
Even the voice that fell from the other's lips was chilled. "No, Master Treize."
Nodding slowly, he was still mystified at Wufei's behaviour. Was he blaming him for Quatre's death as well? The two had been good friends, especially since it was Wufei's domain to watch over the sprawling forests full of wolves and the occasional bandits as well as keep Quatre safe in his absences due to Relena's demands. Pausing in the doorway, that wonder turned to a dull brand of anger. Just where had Wufei been when he was supposed to be watching over his koibito's safety. It must have reflected in his eyes as he stared straight at him, an ebony brow rising slightly.
"Is something wrong, Master Treize?"
Treize forced his fingers to uncurl from the unconscious fists they were trying to coil into. "Where were you the night Quatre was murdered? I thought you were supposed to be patrolling the grounds."
Wufei crossed his arms before him, indecision flickering through the deep pools of his eyes. Some interior decision reached, the Chinese male's poise relaxed a bit, the frozen blackness of his gaze taking on a hint of warmth and sympathy. "Mistress Dorothy sent me a messenger three hours before it… happened. Said there was a pack of wolves howling about her house. Since it is part of the grounds, I took most of my men and rode out there to hunt them down…"
Running a hand through his hair, Treize found his gaze drawn back to the stained stones in the front hall, the mute accusation there calling him back again and again. He never heard Wufei cross the room until the male's hand touched lightly on his shoulder in an intimate gesture he would have never attributed to the Chinese boy. At the warm brush of Wufei's breath against the back of his neck, Treize's spine stiffened, half expecting a strike. The words caressing his ear were unexpected at the least.
"Funny thing is, there weren't even any wolf tracks within a two mile radius of her house. My men and I searched by lantern light with the hounds as well. Nothing. Both she and Princess Relena were most relieved and claimed it must have been the wind that frightened them so."
Stepping back and away with that same wind like quickness, Wufei touched a finger to his own lips. His ebony eyes leaped towards the hall as Relena and Dorothy Catalonia's voices reached them. Turning on his heel, the huntsman moved out the other hall, towards the back exit. Lips parted to ask a question, Treize could only watch him go. Relena hadn't been out of Sanq. He had been called there by her advisors for a speech she had to make, wanting his advice on how to approach the people. Why would she have been here on Luxembourg Estate when her advisors had said she was nursing a headache from worry? His own headache began thumping sickly in his temples while he tried to smile for the two women rushing towards him.
Dorothy was a niece, one that he usually got along with, although she could be more than a little stubborn when she believed the situation called for it. This, to Treize, was the reason she would probably remain a spinster and his responsibility for life. Princess Relena, on the other hand, was all things that his niece was not. Her only problem was that the people didn't fully trust her. There was no definable point one could place a finger on and point out, saying this was her big flaw that caused doubt in the people, but more a chain of small actions. She had raised the Food Tax when she had sworn not to months before because farmers were already starving in these cold winter months. Then, she had let the Wilkins brothers go free; proclaiming them innocent in murders that most of the countryside had believed them guilty in. Most whispered that it had been the pair's influential and rich father working on her on their behalf. The last had been her inability to marry. It was unseemly for a girl in her twenties to be unmarried in this land, even if there were many years left for her to bear a son. With her father as old as what he was, it wouldn't be long before the crown was sat on her head. Forcing his smile to at least look genuine, Treize offered his hands to the two women, "My dear niece and Princess. It was kind of the two of you to visit."
Petri sniffed disdain from behind them as he caught Treize's eye. Both women were brightly attired, Dorothy in baby blue and Relena in pink. Neither even wore a mourning band. All of the servants and Treize himself wore black. Ebony roses had been brought in by Trowa Barton, an old friend of the family's to form wreaths on all the outer doors. They were out of place, especially in a tradition bound butler's eyes, in a house of mourning.
Both began chattering to him at once, getting out only a few words before the music of a violin overrode them both. It was only a few notes before it died away and sunny laughter followed. Light footsteps raced across floor above them as Quatre's voice came ringing down the stairs to them. "Koi! Come look at the birds on the lake with me. You promised we could go feed the swans before they leave for the winter.
The hands grasping Relena's and Dorothy's dropped away as Treize ran past them, taking the stairs in leaps as he had the night before. He could catch him, his mind chanted. He could catch Quatre. This was all nonsense about him behind dead. Stopping at the landing, he gaze down the empty hall, all of the doors still shut. Yet, he could still hear the last rills of his lover's laughter as if he were standing in the corridor with him. A small white glove lay on the banister, one Treize recognized as he picked it up carefully. A small 'Q' and 'K' laid on the back of it, a present for Quatre's last birthday.
The sound of Dorothy's frightened voice came from the bottom of the stairs along with Petri's own. Princess Relena had fainted.