Author's Note: GS lacks motivation to read, let alone write this story, and she's a little tied up right now, so your friendly author Tarnished Oversoul will take this into her own hands. Excuse me, I know I like to write in triplicates, so my adjectives, repetitions and such the like will reflect this, so if this annoys you, don't read it. And thanx to all the reviews (all four of them) I like to hear what people have to say about my fics.
GS: Ok, this is going to be taken over by me now. My plate is no less full then it was when chapter 2 came out but I get bored easily. The writing style will change somewhere in this part, try and guess where! The first one to pick the right sentence gets a cyber sweet ^_^
And I swear, it's a 1x4, 2x5. Next chapter it'll seem more apparent that it's NOT a 1x2 (insert evil chuckling)
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.
Chapter 3
An Unlikely Quest
The first thing Maxwell noticed was the castle. It was a huge Celtic thing, centuries old even now. Beaten and worn by the weather and sieges, it stood proudly against the world with an almost mock to, like "come and get me, I'm indestructible." It was set up on a red faced cliff, a strategically perfect location for a duke or baron who wanted a safe nook and an advantage over any attackers. The castle rock itself was cut out of some sort of black stone, the type usually volcanoes tended to spit out, and shone magnificently when the light struck. It was beautiful, it was timeless, it was the perfect resting place for it's immortal dweller.
"Wow Heero, is that yours?" The witch couldn't contain himself from asking the question that seemed so obvious. Naturally it was to his surprise then when the vampyre smirked and passed the crumbling, but hardy ruined building without a glance back.
**********
"What?" was the surprised little yelp of the vampyre upon seeing the littering of people that surrounded his cabin. People more specifically known as witches, (and as this is fairytale based), most of them the scraggly old hags with falling out black hair, half their teeth and warts that were usually depicted as being witches. The vampyre hated contact, with human or witches otherwise. The vampyre hated things he didn't understand, and there was suddenly a witch's convention in his garden. The vampyre didn't know many witches, but sworn enemies were brought up in such a manner as to hate each other.
So he was furious by the sight of them. The noisy lot of them, agitated his ears with their multitude of shrieking voices like nails grating against slate.
And almost as an afterthought, he noted they were tramping in his black roses!
"What are you doing in my rose garden?" The voice was silkily smooth and attractive while still able to convey his unmasked cruelty. The witches and all their noise stopped slowly to look at the too white creature in all his glory and anger, offset by the sinking sun. Fists unclenched themselves as the beast felt himself calming and he coolly repeated his sentence.
Maxwell seemed to melt from his side, rejoining the crowd of witches as the vampyre glared.
The bravest one, an old woman with undistinguishable features from scarring, spoke up. "We 'have be'n rel'cated on't—wait a minute," she reached into her mouth and pulled out the cotton balls stuffed in her cheeks to cause them to droop. Immediately she looked a few years younger. She straightened up too. "Sorry. We have been relocated on to your land by order of the Romefeller Kingdom." She glared at him, causing a brief tension to wash over the camp. "And trust me, we have no intention on staying."
"Then leave," Heero shrugged, breaking the small glaring contest. "Now. Before something awful happens to you."
"We can't," the witch went on. "Haven't you been listening? We were kicked off. I don't know about you but I don't feel like getting a bath from one of those guards."
"If you don't leave I suppose I'll have a permanent buffet," Heero smirked. "Ok then, you can stay."
The witch glared at him as the rest of them shrunk back in fear. She seemed to grown two inches. "Fine. We'll stay. But only after we burn your house down, trample your garden, tell the villagers of your 'reading habits'—"
"How do you know about that!?"
"—that pink bear under your pillow, the ladies underwear in the closet—"
"Fine!" Heero's pale, featureless face was red. "I'll go and get you off my land! Who the hell is in charge of that…Romefeller place? And where are they?"
"His name is Dekim Barton," the witch smirked. "And I have a guide who can show you where he is. Isn't that right, Duo?"
**Meanwhile, in the Romefeller Foundation castle**
The courtyard was silent. The market was silent. The houses were silent. The castle was silent. Even the thief stealing over the castle walls was silent.
Well, there was one place that the quiet didn't penetrate.
"Fucking piece of shitty bitching fuck! Crappy holy hells, flying fuckity fuck, fuck! Why the fuck won't the fucking ass move its god damned ass out of my fucking way! I gotta get into my fucking house you fucking—"
But that was the only place, we swear….Sorry.
The above mentioned thief ignored the profanity exercise being practiced by the angry peasant. He focused on getting over the high walls and into the stony building. His green eyes narrowed as he hid in the bushes attractively surrounding the base of the inner wall. A guard walked past, his shoes carefully padded to not make noise. Once the guard's back was turned, the tall boy slunk past him. With graceful, cat-like movements, he skimmed up the walls. With any luck, one of the bedroom windows would be open.
This just happened to be one of the luckiest thieves in the world.
Leather clad feet didn't make a sound as they landed on the carpet in the crown prince's room. Stalking up to the huge bed, the thief reached into his boot and withdrew a shining blade. A slender hand reached up and covered the prince's nose and mouth. The prince woke up with a start but his struggled ceased as the quick blade slid easily under his ribs. There was a muffled gasp then the blonde's eyes slid shut as his spirit left his body.
The thief made quick work of the body and hid it under the bed. He shimmied out of his worn clothes and got into the large silk ones the prince kept in his drawers. He took off the bloody sheets and stuffed them under the bed with the body. Then , without wasting anymore time, he slid between the fresh sheets, closed his eyes and drifted off into a slight sleep.
Oh, we forgot to mention that this thief also doubled as an assassin. Ops.
**Next day in Romefeller**
The sun rose over the quiet town. With it came the first noises of the morning. Roosters crowed as men began to wake up. Wives started to cook in the kitchen as the marketplace began to open. Children started to play peaceful in the streets as in less then an hour the palace was filled with joyful order.
The king smirked at the sight. Or rather the sound. The old man turned to leer at the female witch currently handcuffed to the wall beside his bed. She sagged on the chains, her skin torn and bleeding. He could feel her hatred despite his blind eyes. He cleared his throat as he heard a servant come through the doors.
"Call my son. I want him to join me."
Now, last night the real crown prince was disregarded like a dirty pair of underwear and shoved under the bed. The recent killer slumbered peacefully in his place when the sound of knocking woke him up. The servant didn't bother to wait before walking in.
"Prince Trowa, your father requests an audience immediately," the words were brisk. The boy looked at the kneeling man with weary eyes. The servant hesitated and looked at him confused. "Prince Trowa…er, did you lose weight?"
"Yes."
"Change your clothes?"
"Yes."
"Get a new…fragrance for your room?"
"Um…y-es."
"Change your hair?"
The thief paused before answering with an unsure tone, "Yes?"
"Ah," the man nodded, still staring at him. "It looks good. Your father…"
"Wait out side and I'll get dressed," the newly named Trowa Barton ordered quietly. The man nodded and left. The thief pondered his situation as he shifted through the wardrobe. Maybe he could pass for the prince. If one man could mistake him…
Trowa opened the door, looking small in the large clothes of the beefy corpse. The servant led the way down the halls, still sneaking glances over his shoulder. The new Trowa ignored them. The door opened to the old king and the woman chained up. The king waved the servant out of the room as Trowa stepped in a little nervously. He relaxed when the king's blind eyes focused on him.
"Ah, son, I want you to see this," the king waved to a bucket on the ground. "This, this is holy water. Surely you've heard of the tales about melting witches, the screams in agony and despair? Prepare for a demonstration. Take the bucket and pour it on the witch!"
Trowa paled as the witch struggled and tried to curse through the gag. The youth slowly walked over to the innocently wooden bucket sitting on the floor. He looked up sorrowfully at the young woman, her blue eyes pleading. Trowa held the bucket, thinking hard. There must be a way…
With a smooth, silent thrust, the prince whirled and sunk his blade into the king's throat. There was a choking sound as the clouded eyes dulled and the king slumped to the ground.
He quickly dropped the dagger in the bucket of holy water before picking up the key from the old man's belt and unlocking the woman from her chains. She seemed unafraid, rubbing her wrists calmly and stretching sore muscles. Trowa couldn't decide why. He opened his mouth to speak. She held up her hand to stop him.
"Bahahah," she grinned. "My name is unimportant but I a seer." She looked at him and blinked. "And a mind reader. Hm, you're not the real Trowa Barton. Oh and you're employer is dead, his whore took it too rough on him last night."
Trowa started at the information but slowly shrugged. "I wasn't attached to him any how."
"I can do you a small favour, though." She smiled. "Since you were so kind to bestow one on me. The princess, now your sister, will know who you aren't. You must dispel her intentions. As you do not desire the throne you must marry her off now, before she can raise a fuss. You can pass down the throne and live your life a prince. Look for this prince in the tallest tower of the tallest castle guarded by a Dragon! This I see and foretell!"
There was a puff of smoke and Trowa covered his face. When he looked again the woman was gone. His green eyes darted around before he saw the wooden door swinging on its hinges. He sighed wearily as he heard her chuckling to herself as she ran away.
"I might as well take her advice," Trowa mused calmly. "It would help a great deal. But where to find a prince…"
***
"Just you and me again!" Duo grinned cheerfully, his braid swinging as he jauntily walked beside his stony companion. "Isn't this just great? Just you and me and…well nature I guess. Yup, nothing like the good silence between friends, huh oh buddy pal of mine? Peace and quiet—"
"Would you please shut up!" Heero growled, the tone clearly not a request. "I can't stand it anymore! If you don't shut up, I'm going to eat you anyway and just find someone else to guide me!"
Duo was a bit taken back but broke back into his steady stream of chatter, not oblivious to the angry pouring off his companion.
"But of course the quiet can't really be appreciated unless you share it! It's kind of boring unless it's a comfortable silence or a companionable silence or—"
Heero threw the witch against the nearest tree, his hand over Duo's neck and his fangs barred. He was centimeters from Duo's face, his pupils pinpricks in the hypnotizing blue of his eyes.
"I'm kind of thirsty, how about you?" Heero all but purred dangerously. Duo gulped but forced a grin on his face.
"Ba!" Duo said cheerfully. "You wouldn't hurt me! Nope, we're friends remember?"
"I heard you, several times in fact," Heero pulled back now that he felt he had scared the witch then let him go. "I agreed to no such thing."
Duo sighed with relief and moved his neck back and forth, checking for any bite marks and finding none. Heero moved off down the path, silent as a ghost and liquid as a cat. Duo shook his head with a smile. He'd better be cautious.
Before dark fall they came over the rise of a hill. Spread over the deep valley was a huge, grand castle. White stone gleamed in the lowering sunlight, crops grew in neat fields and even the trees around the palace looked like they were trimmed.
"Come on," Heero started down the lush hill, his feet trampling the grass. "I have to talk to the king now. The longer your kind says on my property, the worse things get. Who knows what will change shape when I step on it? Mushrooms turning into flesh eating lizards isn't what I moved there for."
Duo struggled to find a hint of crab grass among the combed lawns but failed.
They passed unnoticed into the castle. Silence reigned over the whole palace. The streets were freshly washed. The bushes neatly trimmed. A statue of the king looked harshly down on the village from the square where Heero and Duo found themselves. The white buildings were trimmed with fresh paint, the signs spelled out neatly. From the square (the centre round the king sporting hundreds of artfully places flowers), the streets spread out in a perfect sequence. No street differed from another.
Duo reached out and clutched Heero's sleeve without thinking. Heero sighed, went to shake him off, then thought better of it when he thought about how much the boy would complain.
"W-Where are we?" Duo asked in a hushed voice, the sound being alien to the town.
"Romefeller," Heero answered still looking around.
"How do you know?"
"There," on the edge of the circle surrounding the statue was a bulletin board. It held a map. There was a red circle around one spot on the map and a small hand pointing to it. Under the hand it read: "You are here!". Duo glanced at the title of the map. Romefeller Village.
"I knew that!" Duo struggled to cover his embarrassment. "I just wanted to see if you knew it!"
Heero rolled his eyes. He pointed to a notice off to the side of the map. "There is a tournament. The prince is looking for 'A valiant knight to complete a quest! Details provided upon entry.'"
"That sucks," Duo nodded understandingly. Heero resisted the urge to roll his eyes again, then left for the direction pointed out on the map. Duo hurried to catch up to him.
***
All ready it was mid-day and Trowa had a sudden headache. Soon after his father's body was discovered, he announced a tournament to find the bravest knight in the kingdom to find a prince for his sister. Well, Trowa hadn't announced it. A man down in the registry had taken the liberty to assume that Trowa would be wracked with brotherly love towards his helpless sister and want to marry her off right away. Either way, it suited Trowa's purposes.
He had known taking the prince's identity would be a hard task. He had just assumed it would be in trickery or deception. He never dreamed it would be holding his tongue from shouting out the truth.
"You're hair looks great today, Prince Trowa!"
"Absolutely smashing!"
"Makes you look taller!"
"Makes you look younger!"
"Makes you look older!"
"Makes you look like a completely different person!"
I am, you morons! Trowa physically had to bite his cheek to keep from screaming. Were all these people that dense? Well, there was one person he was under scrutiny from.
Seated beside him, out in the hot sun, watching the knights register, was his pretty, young 'sister'. The tall blonde kept watching him from the corner of her eye. He finally snapped.
"What is your problem, sister?" he all but growled under his breath. It did nothing to intimidate the princess. Instead she took the chance to turn her full attention to him.
"Oh, nothing, Prince Trowa," she commented calmly. "I was just thinking about how different you look today. Really, where did you go to get your hair done?"
Her tone was sarcastic and he felt a touch of nervousness. He turned to glare at her. "The same place that takes care of your eyebrows, princess."
Instead of it being the crushing blow he expected, the princess laughed out loud. "Actually, I do that myself. Now how you got your hair to change your height, weight and identity is a truly amazing feat. No really, do tell!"
Trowa ignored her and looked out on the field. Amid the confusion, he saw something quite unexpected. Just entering from behind the stands was two youths. Both looked like a wind could knock them over. Trowa squinted, the pale one looked like he was dead. He shrugged, it must be the sun.
Taking the carefully prepared speech that had been handed to him when he had sat down, Trowa stood. Immediately the crowd fell silent. Trowa blinked, it was a bit unnerving, he was suddenly glad his face was obscured by his hair.
"Ladies and gentlemen, peasant folk," Trowa read off the cards. "I am pleased to present to you your knights. Gesture to knights, wait for applause. Their noble quest upon winning the tournament is to go off and seek a prince for the lovely Princess Dorothy to marry. This prince shall be your future king. Only the purest of heart will be able to stand the fiery tongue of the guardian dragon. If the champion should fail, we shall send the next runner up and so forth."
That explained. Trowa sat down again, glad to be out of the spotlight. There was silence over the crowd.
***
"Here's our chance," Heero strode through the crowd, still a bit befuddled by the odd speech. He halted in front of the prince's stand, his witch nervously beside him. The vampire pierced the prince with a deadly glare.
"Prince Trowa!" the voice from the undead boy seemed to strike the hearts of every person in the stands. "I have come to demand that you stop putting foul witches on my lands!"
"Hey!"
"I want them out!" Heero thundered the last word, unmindful to the indignant sputtering beside him. The crowd froze, fear stilling movement. Finally, somebody broke the silence.
"A hero! A hero!" a straggling cheer started in the stands and it soon became a chant. 'A hero, a hero, a hero, a hero!"
Heero stood, looking in disbelief at the crowd. Duo started sniggering beside him. "Well, Heero," the witch could barely contain his laughter as he swung an arm around the vampire's shoulders. "Looks like a fan club."
Trowa sighed, this was supposed to be an uncomplicated day. He had to find a way to end this quick. He stood up and the crowds fell silent again.
"You want your land back so badly?" he questioned. Heero nodded with an angry gleam. "Fine. Go get that prince and you shall have your land back."
That said, Trowa sat back down. He turned calmly over to his sister. "What witches?"
