Title: Masks of Ice
Summary: Pegasus enjoys nothing more than times of leisure in beautiful places. Siegfried's home is a place which takes pride in beauty.
Contains: Slash if you squint
Pairing: Pegasus X Siegfried
Disclaimer: I do not own yu-gi-oh or the characters and make no money from the writing of this fic.
Author's Note: This takes place prior to the Season 5 Grand Prix at an undisclosed time.
Pegasus loved visiting the Von Schroeder castle in the Spring more than any other time of the year. All of the trees were either pink with buds, flowering, or the most vibrant shades of green imaginable. The gardens that engulfed the place would all be in bloom, from the freshly planted annuals along the dirty driveway and walking paths to the perennial flowering bushes and thoughtfully placed roses.
Of course there were roses at the Von Schroeder mansion, Siegfried loved them, but he didn't let his love come across as an obsession. (Too much of a good thing was a bad thing, and Siegfried was well aware of that.)
In the courtyard there were fountains of the most tasteful nature, all ancient and repeatedly restored fixtures as old as the castle's foundation. The enclosed area was divided by walking paths manufactured from stones which glistened just enough to highlight the flowers which lined them.
Every year these outlining flowers were replaced with those of a new breed, though only Siegfried or his mother would probably be able to tell you what specific genus. Pegasus loved all things of beauty and scrutinized everything with the acute judgment expected from a master painter, but that didn't mean he had know everything about his subjects. The small, fragrant blossoms that outlined the pathways didn't need to be named by him to be adored by him.
It was always a bit cliché, but Pegasus constantly found himself wondering "What is in a name…?" when he stared at the magnificent gardens that maids with mud splotched gloves and aprons tended to with maternal affection and care. "That which we call a rose…By any other name would smell as sweet…" And look just as stunning.
Other than the flowers and the renewed, fresh scenery, the atmosphere of the Von Schroeder castle was one of peace and tranquility…From all around, Pegasus could feel the wind on his face and hear it in the trees and grasses, even over the sounds of the contented, chirping birds and the spraying fountains.
The grounds were the type of place that inspired him to paint, and that was what he did most times that he visited in the Spring. As a beautiful person, he was welcomed to travel throughout the castle and its grounds like a roving piece of art. Siegfried would never complain of his presence in fear of hurting his business, his mother would be the one to see him as a walking, stunningly alive statue. While he painted in the courtyard or in the side garden that didn't face the crying sea, no one bothered him—not maid or master—since he was just an animated statue, something that added a unique beauty to an already gorgeous scene.
It seemed to be that only at the castle was he inspired to paint what was before him instead of what was in his mind…but that didn't mean he didn't improvise every now and then.
Sometimes, he would paint the hillside and its lush grasses, the edge of the bursting, revived garden just barely spilling onto the left side of the canvas while the budding trees just down the hill decorated the rest. And then, at the side of the garden, a woman with yellow hair and a blue dress would stand with her fingers caressing the petals of one of the flowering bushes' blossoms. Or, this woman would be sitting on the rim of one of the fountains in the courtyard, surveying something in the distance…perhaps peering into one of the windows across the yard.
Paintings such as those brought him such immense pleasure. He felt so engulfed by the tranquility and the tenderness of the paintings and the scenery that he forgot, from time to time, what life was like outside of the glamorized world he created.
Pegasus reminisced over these thoughts while sketching out and rapidly beginning on a fresh painting in the courtyard. Just breaking into view on the right side of the canvas was the edge of the spraying fountain, behind it was the stone wall of the castle where a vivacious and spreading vine grew in a controlled manner. By the wall was his sketch of a person, and beside the person, wrapping all of the way around until disappearing off of the left side of the canvas, were the blossoming plants.
There was to be a business meeting held in the Von Schroeder castle early in the evening. Siegfried was pleading for Pegasus and his associates to lend their attention to his latest idea. When it came to young, inexperienced CEOs like Siegfried, Pegasus usually paid them no mind at all, but Siegfried's home was beautiful and served a much greater purpose when not used for business. It was a shame to say he used the meeting as an excuse to play the part of the living statue and paint to his heart's content, but Siegfried had been persistent enough that Pegasus also found benefit in listening to his ideas.
The boy was bright—much like his rival, Seto Kaiba—he wouldn't waste Pegasus's time, but whenever the two of them came together…
It was like fire mixing with ice… Pegasus was fire, Siegfried was ice.
He had learned that when he'd first encountered Siegfried. Of course Siegfried had only been a child then, but he had still acted much like an adult…at first.
When the two of them were introduced at the party, Siegfried had played the role of a superficially charming, spoiled brat. The one you expected to throw a temper tantrum when his father, literally, refused to buy him a pony… Though Pegasus himself had been barely a man at the time and Siegfried just more than a snot-nosed kid, they had managed to hold a relatively decent conversation.
Pegasus had been fire, Siegfried had been ice… Just like ice…
Siegfried had begun the conversation, led it onto himself ever so politely, and then flung it at Pegasus with at least half a dozen half-hearted compliments. Of course, Pegasus had found no trouble speaking of himself. He didn't let himself become flattered that a little boy seemed to be showing "interest" in his life's achievements…at least not at first.
Siegfried had been like ice held above a flame…he began to melt. His formerly scripted and thought-out responses became eager ones. "You don't say?" became simply "Truly? Really?" "I've always heard that even Egypt has beautiful places" soon turned into "And then what happened? Once you were there? Then what?"
It probably would have remained that way, too, if Siegfried's father hadn't noticed his son's growing excitement and smashed it all at once to keep it from becoming noticeable to the other guests. Children weren't children in the Schroeder house. They were adults in training, and adults "never" become overly excited or enthralled in a good story.
Pegasus found himself laughing at the memory. Even though Siegfried had begun melting then, the next time they met he had returned to being frigid. Until, of course, they began their conversation…
Once again, another party…only this time Herr Schroeder seemed to be enthusiastic about washing his hands of his son for the moment and allowed the boy to disappear at Pegasus's side. Pegasus had resumed his stories about Egypt and what he found there, all the while teaching the youth the joy of the game he'd invented.
He had melted…completely. Siegfried became enthralled with the game so much that Pegasus would have actually found himself cruel if he had not left a deck of cards with him. A "play thing" that was only allowed to remain in Siegfried's possession since it was, after all, given to him by its creator…that made it valuable.
When Pegasus had returned home after that second meeting, he found his mind completely engrossed with the words of that not-so-spoiled child. The kid liked mythology…mostly Norse mythology. And why not? He was named after such themes…
Before he could stop himself, Pegasus had practically made an entire deck just for that boy to use. He'd sent it through the mail with a letter attached to nonchalantly deter Herr Schroeder from pitching the personalized cards in the trash…in response he'd gotten a business-formal, cold, impersonal thank you letter.
He hadn't been gone long and, already, Siegfried had frozen once again.
And it remained that way. Every time Pegasus visited him, Siegfried melted—sometimes only slightly, sometimes into a puddle…But, once he left, Siegfried froze over immediately and all of the work was undone.
There was something alluring about that…as if, no matter what he said or did, Siegfried would always return to the way he had been before. Whether he scold him, as he had once when he was still just a boy, or shout at him as he had done when Siegfried was finally at the age to be shouted at without being emotionally scarred for life, Siegfried turned back into ice and never showed any signs of wear or tear. Once, he'd even struck the man for speaking out of turn and yet Siegfried had neither responded nor acted as if he remembered it afterwards.
It made Pegasus so curious…what all could he do without leaving a mark? Scold, Degrade, Embarrass, strike…use? Misuse?
Well, he was already misusing him by using his newest idea and it's meeting as an excuse to go painting…
Pegasus's brush fell from his hand and spattered the stone of the pathway with soft, grey paint. All but the miniscule details were complete, but that wasn't what had Pegasus's mind halted.
Leaning against the wall where his blonde woman should have been, a gentleman stood admiring not the roses at his side or the windows in the distance, but him. The gentleman in the portrait was staring right at him, right through him, with blue-green eyes that mischievously whispered "I know…" But what did he know?
Seized with the unrelenting sensation of being watched by more than just the eyes he had painted, Pegasus passed a glance over his shoulder and saw a curtain rustle over one of the darkened windows.
He felt as if his privacy had been invaded, as if he had been wronged by whoever had been stealing glances, but reminded himself that he was just a living statue when he was painting on the Von Schroeder grounds—a work of art meant to be observed.
Catching the breath he hadn't realized he'd lost, Pegasus picked up his brush and resumed painting edgily. The subject had changed, but how strange would he appear if he suddenly stopped and ran away? Not that he particularly cared what anyone thought of him if he did run away, but those eyes in the painting…
"I know," they said. They knew everything. They knew more than he did…even about himself.
But of course they did, he had painted them. They knew all of his secrets and heard all of his thoughts…Perhaps they even knew why Siegfried Von Schroeder leaned against the vine-draped wall instead of the widower painter's wife.
A/N: I may continue this if people show interest, or even if they don't… I've always wanted to write Pegasus X Siegfried, but couldn't figure out how. I guess it was a little bit easier than I thought…Then again, it's always easiest when the character isn't reacting to anything but internal stimuli and ramblings…