Chapter Three
The weight of the sword resting in his hand was familiar, and he grasped it tightly as Heero let his body enter the familiar patterns. There was simply no need to even think about what he was doing anymore, since he had been practising the very routine for years and years now.
The sword hissed as he swung it through the air, and Heero put every single ounce of hatred and anger he felt into each particular swing and thrust.
A thin sheen of sweat eventually covered his body; his hair was plastered to his face. He didn't care – the adrenaline had taken hold of him now, and nothing would stop him from finishing his routine.
And at last, the sword made its last cut through the air, and Heero paused. Out of old habit, he bowed slightly, but it was a mocking bow.
He frowned and dropped the sword on the ground, where it clashed heavily, the heavy gold hitting the surface. He removed his sweat-drenched shirt and let it slip from his hand.
They would clean things up.
They always did, every day.
And now, Heero had to take his morning bath, like he had the day before. Of course, while doing so, he had to make very sure to keeps his palms touching only the rim of the golden bath itself, and not in the water. Literally swimming in gold while trying to take a bath wasn't a very nice thing to be doing.
He scowled bitterly, wondering if the sky would actually fall if he didn't have his morning bath. For one split second, he was struck with the painful need to run, run far, far away, and not to stop running till at last exhaustion struck him down, and perhaps, he could finally leave his very own hell.
But freedom wasn't so easily gained, he knew, and such wonderful ideas as those would never make it out into the light. Viciously, he pushed his hair away from his face, then clenched his fist.
"It has to end," he hissed, "This... can't go on forever."
'... Could it?'
He began his walk to the baths, mind kept empty by pure will, eyes glinting.
"Sire?"
Heero turned to face the source of the voice: one of the younger servants around his castle. He looked mutedly at the girl, waiting for her to speak.
"I... I was just wondering if... if you would be taking your midday... bath... now... Should I prepare... the baths?" The words burst from her like water from a broken damn, and Heero almost found it funny.
"Later," he said, offhandedly. It wasn't important. There was a long pause, and he returned to what he had been doing before the girl had arrived – staring at one of the many tapestries that hung lushly on the walls.
"Sire?"
Was she still there? He briefly wondered her name, and which family she came from. After all, he very well knew that all the parents around his castle warned their offspring to keep as far, far away from him as they could.
They raised their children to hate him; just as they had been brought up. He doubted there was a single living person within these walls who didn't hold some semblance of dislike for him.
So, then, what was this ridiculous child doing, still standing close to him?
The answer came tumbling to him when he saw her flushed cheeks, the slight trembling coursing through her body, the tilt of her head.
It had been awhile since he had one of them. One of those utterly... well, he could be kind, but then again... one of those stupid people. The ones that entertained the notion that they could break the curse; they could somehow... win his heart.
Sometime after the curse had begun to make itself known, a rumour had arisen that he could be saved, but only by a kiss from one with 'the purest heart of gold', or some other rubbish along those lines. He had ridiculed the idea when his parents had brought it up, after all some of the greatest mages in the land had confirmed that the curse was impossible to break. But that hadn't stopped the tiniest of hopes to take hold of him.
So, in those earliest days, he had almost welcomed them, hoping against all hope that one of them would be The One, the one that would free him.
But time had passed, as it was prone to do, and now if only they could realise that the heart they hoped to capture wasn't there. He had no heart to be won over, not anymore. That had died the moment he saw his mother, the only one who he had ever loved, die upon that wretched bed, pale, cold... Old.
Not that he could have ever found even mild liking for those who had thrown themselves at him so willingly.
And now... here was another one of them.
Out of somewhere, a hatred rose within him, directed straight for the blond girl in front of him. Who did she think she was, that she could try for the impossible? Why was she not happy with what she had? She was young, and pretty enough... Though the servants were not permitted to leave the palace grounds, there were many whole families living within it. She could find herself a willing boy, build herself her own family, and educate her own daughters to stay away from the cold-hearted prince.
Too bad she was never going to get the chance to.
"Your name... ?" he asked, infusing a slight huskiness into his voice.
"Rel... Relena, sire." A heavy blush rose within her cheeks. He almost felt guilty...
"Ah... " It was barely a breath, and as he said it, he caught her eyes with his.
He held out a hand.
Her eyes were glazed, and he knew she had forgotten every tale, every horror story that had been told to her. She slowly held out a slim-fingered hand, to touch his own...
He watched, disinterestedly, as she shimmered slightly. Her mouth made an 'o', her eyes opened wide.
She froze in that position, and he almost could see the life being sucked out of her.
She made a rather appealing gold statue, he mused. Then, for a single, terrible moment, he was struck with the horror of what he had done.
It passed, the jaded years caught up with him, and he didn't care anymore.
He turned back to the tapestry, wishing that he could brush a hand over it, much like the girl had just done to his own.
But he couldn't. Its beauty was too great to be cursed with his touch.
Duo winced, as another thorny branch snagged his hair. It fell loosely around him – his original tie had been snapped a few yards back by a particularly vicious bush, and he had decided not to risk any more.
"And you're positive that this is the best way to get there?" he asked again, for the countless time in the last hour or so. Not that he could tell as they were in a dense forest, and all of their precious sunlight barely trickled through the miniscule gaps between the high-rising trees.
Wufei paused, from his position at the head of the group. He hesitated, then nodded firmly. "I am positive this is the fastest way to reach the castle. It is said to be surrounded by dense plant growth and many great trees, so I am hoping that this," he gestured wildly, "is a good omen." His dark eyes darted around. "It should be late afternoon by now," he said, "and I think it would be smart to rest at the next possible stop."
Duo nodded. "No point in pushing ourselves too much, huh," he said. Wufei nodded, and continued walking. It was rather annoying, the way the dark haired man could keep going without so much as a pause. Duo slowed his pace, letting Trowa and Quatre – side by side – pass him. They were having some sort of meaningful conversation, Quatre murmuring intently and Trowa nodding along and adding a few words of his own every once in a while. They seemed very comfortable with each other, and Duo didn't particularly feel like interrupting them.
He fell back, to walk side by side with Zechs. The blond had said barely a word, since they'd set out two days ago, and things had been particularly tense between him and Wufei. "So," he said casually, every instinct willing him to say something, "have you all known each other for a long time?"
There was silence from the man, and just as Duo was resigning himself to a very boring journey, Zechs spoke. "Since birth," he said, dragging out the words. "I was four when Wufei was born. My mother was a midwife, among other things, and she delivered him herself." His eyes darkened. "She looked after me and my sister all by herself, for the first ten years of my life. I remember seeing him just once, one night, when he stormed his way into our house, shouting and ranting about something. My mother locked me in the cellar, telling me not to come out until morning. When she came down to let me out the next day... " he closed his eyes tightly, before continuing, "I knew what he had done to her. But mum never said a word about it, never ever looked with anything other than a smile at her growing stomach... or at me. Nine months later, Relena was born. Then, when Relena turned five, my bastard of a father deemed it fit to jump back into our lives. He charmed Relena over completely, with sugarcoated words, pretty dresses and nice dolls. He left, with her following him willingly, a year later. Never saw them again."
"I'm sorry," Duo said softly.
"Don't be," Zechs said, twisting a smile at him. "Probably the best thing that could have happened, anyway. Relena never seemed happy to lead a simple life – she always talked of gold, and being a princess, and servants to cater to her every need. I wish I could say she had been spoilt, but she hadn't. Mum ran a tight household."
Duo nodded. "And you and Wufei have been friends since birth?"
Zechs smiled tenderly. "Pretty much. His mother brought me right up to her bed. I can still remember picking up this tiny, shrivelled baby. I couldn't believe that his mother let me hold him, but she did, and I promised her that in return I'd always look after him."
Duo grinned. "Big words for a four year old."
Zechs picked a leaf out of his hair absentmindedly. "Perhaps, but I meant them wholeheartedly." He glanced ahead, a smile tugging at the edge of his lips as he saw Wufei engaged in friendly banter with Quatre.
"He's always been there for me," he told Duo solemnly. "And I've tried to do the same." He heaved a sigh. "Wufei's been through too much." He stopped there abruptly. Duo didn't push for more, choosing to let the silence reign and walking on.
"Duo," Zechs said. The braided man looked at him. "If everything turns out to be true... I'm sure that you have a better chance of succeeding than anyone else before you."
Duo stopped. "Thank you," he said simply, nodding.
They had stumbled across a small clearing in the forest just a few marks before sundown – according to Wufei – and had proceeded to set up a temporary camp. Trowa and Quatre had left just a few moments ago, to look for possible food so as to make their food supplies last longer, and Wufei and Zechs were studying the plant growth and trying to... well, gather information of some sort.
Things were still rather tense between the two, and Trowa seemed to be acting rather strangely towards Quatre, though the blond remained cheerfully oblivious. Duo wondered exactly what sort of company he had stumbled into, but he was sure in the knowledge that they were really good people. He had a rather... innate sixth sense in judging people's characters, and he doubted that any one of these men wanted to hurt or harm him in any way.
But that didn't mean that they wouldn't have any... issues concerning each other.
"Is it safe out here?" he called, in the direction of Wufei and Zechs. Wufei looked up, considering the question.
"There doesn't seem to be anything amiss," he said, half to himself. He glanced at Duo pointedly. "Any particular reason you would ask?"
Duo shrugged. "I thought maybe I could play a tune or two on my lute. See if-" he flexed his fingers, "I've gone at all rusty, or if the old girl has lost her voice."
"I don't think there would be anything wrong with that," Wufei decided. "Just keep the volume at a reasonable level and I'm sure we won't be bothered."
"Bothered?" Zechs asked. "What do you mean, bothered?"
Wufei applied himself pointedly to the task of taking notes on a particularly obscure plant.
"Wufei?"
"This seems to have healing qualities," the black-haired man announced. "Wouldn't you agree?"
Zechs sighed. "So damn stubborn," he muttered.
Duo turned his attention away from them. As amusing as they were, it had been too long since he had played a tune on his lute. He opened the case carefully, and removed the lute, running careful fingers over the polished wooden side.
He cradled it tenderly in his arms, much like one would a babe, or a lover, and began playing a simply scale, just to test how stiff his fingers had become and the tune of his lute.
The notes rang out, strong and pure, and clear against the still air. Immediately the spell of the music caught him, and held him, and the world slowly faded out, until it was simply him and the call of the tune.
He moved easily from the scale into a piece – one of the old ones, composed long before tunes could be written, and passed down from minstrel to minstrel. Maxwell the bard had particularly liked this piece, and that was one of the reasons Duo enjoyed playing it so much.
It was his one last tribute.
The notes rang out, and his lute was singing for him, calling out to him, bringing him far away from here and now and giving him a glimpse of true, untainted happiness.
But soon, the tune was over before it had truly begun, and as the last note faded into the breeze, Duo felt alone. He didn't want it to end so soon, so he plunged into another familiar tune. It was sweet and sad, and reminded him of a similar tune that his mother had hummed to him as a child. The minor notes struck the air with a raw painfulness, and Duo was almost glad when it ended.
He hesitated, and looked to see the reactions on Wufei's and Zechs' faces. The opinions of others had always mattered to him, even if few had realised that, and his music meant the most of all.
He needn't have worried. They were smiling at him, and Wufei's eyes were particularly bright.
"It has been too long," Wufei said solemnly. "I can't remember the last time I heard music being played quite so excellently." Zechs nodded his agreement.
Duo smiled broadly and started working on a few tricky trills. "Duo?" He glanced up, looking expectantly at Wufei.
"Would you... play a piece for me?" he asked. Duo widened his eyes, but nodded.
"Sure, if I know it. Do you know the name?"
Wufei placed his sheaf of notes down and walked towards where Duo was sitting. "May I... ?" he asked, hesitantly.
Duo held out his lute, feeling just a little concerned. The lute meant a great deal to him, and having others hold it was almost like an invasion of sorts. However, Wufei handled the lute with care, and started picking out a few notes, in succession. The tune was choppy, but soon enough Duo recognised the tune and cried out.
"'The Field of Red,' is it not?"
Wufei nodded and looked pleased, whilst handing Duo his lute back carefully. "Yes... I had forgotten the name – it has been so long. But that is correct, I remember now."
"Did you play once?" Duo asked, interested.
Wufei pursed his lips. "No, but I have studied the instrument in great detail. I had a... friend, and she enjoyed music very much. I was trying to make one of those-" he nodded towards the lute, "for her. Of course, that meant I had to know something about these first."
"You made one?"
Wufei shook his head. "I never had the chance to finish it... she passed on to the Spirit Realms before I could complete it and give it to her."
"Oh." Duo hesitated, but when he saw the anguished look on Wufei's face, started playing a soft, soothing tune. He placed just a touch of tenderness into the tune, and soon Wufei started relaxing.
"She liked that song very much," Wufei said. "It would be nice to hear it being sung again."
"Then hear it you shall!" Duo declared. He ran the tune quickly through his head, just to assure himself that he remembered it, then started playing.
He ran through the simple introduction for a few short moments, before he opened his mouth and started singing.
"I walked across yon field of gold,
I saw my lover's smile,
I passed across yon field of green,
And held them for a while.
I wandered through yon field of blue,
I saw my lover's eyes,
I roamed across yon field of violet,
Where we lay below the sky.
And now alone I sit and wait,
I hear but naught a sound,
I see around me only red,
My lover nary to be found.
I sit upon yon field of red,
Remember words once said,
I hope my love will come to me,
Whilst I lie on field of red."
The last word was sung, and the last note faded away. Duo blinked, feeling the music lose its hold over him, but leaving him with a sense of disorientation.
"That is the song, correct?"
Wufei turned away, hiding his reaction. "Yes," he said, hoarsely. "That is the song. Thank you." He walked briskly away, seeking the shelter of the trees.
Duo felt almost dazed. He didn't remember the song ever sounding quite so... passion-filled; not the last time he had played it. Now, the words had been ripped painfully from him, leaving him almost raw – him, and as it appeared, Wufei also. The words had been begging to be sung; the notes begging to be played, and now they were satisfied, but Duo... Duo felt drained.
"Would it be a problem if I took a break?" he asked. "Don't wanna shirk off my duty, or anything."
Zechs shook his head. "Don't worry about it. We'll just have you prepare breakfast, or something of the sort."
Duo laughed. "If you don't mind challenging your digestive system, I don't have a problem with that."
Zechs smiled. "I'm sure we can work out something. I'm going to go... " He looked pointedly at the patch of brush Wufei had wandered off into.
"Sure," Duo said, "Go on then. You can wake me up if you'd like me to be on watch duty, or something similar."
"Okay then," Zechs said, "Make sure you get some rest."
"I will," Duo answered, but whether or not Zechs had heard him was another thing. The man was one speed short of running into the brush he had just been looking at – he was probably going to search for Wufei.
With his departure, Duo was left alone at this meagre campsite. The wind blew through the trees, and Duo began placing his lute carefully into its case.
With his lute taken care of, he went to where their packs and bedrolls were lying, and pulled out the one he had grown to recognise as his own.
It was growing to be habit, this same exercise of setting out the bedroll and blankets and trying to form something resembling a bed – nay, not even that, just something remotely comfortable to sleep in.
Quatre had gladly set him up with a bedroll, blankets and other necessary travelling equipment. Odds said he would most likely need them – it seemed that he was just not fated to settle down and give up the freedom of travelling.
He had thought he might have wanted to, once, surrender his travels and settle down once and for all, but when it came to it, Duo wasn't sure if he could. Somehow, the feeling of being trapped came to mind, when he thought of never being able to see new things, new places, new people, of never being able to feel – or at least, follow – the call of the unknown.
But that was thinking for another day. Duo had somehow gotten the blankets and bedroll to look welcoming, and he unfastened his outer tunic and pulled on the looser one he liked to use whilst sleeping. He pulled off his boots and deftly fixed his loose hair into the more familiar braid.
Without further ado, he clambered into the blankets and let out a sigh, closing his eyes. The night was shaping up to be a cold one. It was more so the pity that he didn't have another body to keep him warm...
That was a topic that Duo didn't particularly like to think about. So he cut all the thoughts of being alone from his mind. Instead, his thoughts drifted to this insane trip he was currently on.
It had all happened so fast, and Duo still couldn't quite get a grasp on what he was doing. It was like his body was somehow functioning on reflexes alone, and he hadn't yet had time to contemplate what he should really be doing.
What he was doing? What he was doing was going on a crazy wild goose chase. He could scarcely even believe that the prince had ever lived, much less that he was still alive now. And even if he was, what could possibly make Duo think that he, of all people, could somehow break the curse? Many must have tried, and if they had failed, what was to say that Duo wouldn't follow in their cursed footsteps?
But yet, even as he knew all that, he couldn't stop the urge to go, to find this prince, and somehow set him free.
It wasn't so much of a conscious, coherent decision. Rather, it was something deep-seated and primal, something Duo didn't even quite understand.
But his instincts had gotten him through this far, and he could only hope that they would get him through the next eighteen years of his life as well, at the very least!
Still, Duo had absolutely no experience whatsoever with curses – or at least, not curses that he had known were curses. He though briefly of his brush with the so-called cursed village, of losing Bard Maxwell, and that only served to make him feel even more alone.
But if Duo felt alone now, surrounded by companions, and even friends, perhaps, than he could only imagine how alone the cursed prince must feel. Never to touch another living being, to feel the warmth of another's skin...
No one should have to live like that. And if Quatre and the others somehow believed that Duo was... special, in anyway... He would try his hardest not to let them down.
He had already let enough people down as it was.
Another day had passed, another night was looming ahead.
Heero looked disgustedly at the golden clothes he was wearing. Every single stitch of thread had turned to the horrible substance, as if mocking him.
He would never be able to cast out that colour.
He had the power to turn to entire world into gold, the power to feed all the hungry and make rich all the poor.
...Kill millions with a touch, never having to worry about their retaliation...
It seemed like he had so much, when he knew he had nothing at all. And for a long, long time, he had closed his eyes at night and wished that he would wake up different.
However, he couldn't think of a single instance when someone grasping at empty hopes had ever been granted them simply because they wished it so. In that way, at least, he knew he wasn't the only one with unanswered hopes.
Not that that had ever served to ease away the bitterness.
He almost missed the times when he could wander around the castle, talk to the servants, and the servant's children – he had never been fond of the restrictions on talking to others with a position lower than him. He had always thought the servants were very nice people, and one or two children his age had even treated him as an equal – must to the chagrin of some of the more uptight royals.
But that time was over. No more bareback riding on his favourite black stallion, racing with the stable master's son. Never again to feel the wind against his skin, threading through his hair, letting go of every one of the restrictions placed on him, gripping the stallion's mane and being free.
He would never be free again, for even the illusion of it had been snatched from him.
His favourite black stallion was dead, the stable master's son along with it. Along with everyone he could remember from times long ago, when the option of being happy, of living, had still been possible for him.
And now he was nothing but an empty shell. He wondered when he would finally crack, and wondered who would be around to see it happen.
And he wondered when exactly he had stopped caring.
But there were precious few things he still felt – and hate was one of them.
TBC
THANK YOU to all the reviewers... I cannot say how much your responses mean to me... they really keep me writing... so thank you, so very, very much. bowbow And thank you Kimiki for the beta!
N/B: Heero will only turn things to gold if he touches them with the palm of his hands. It becomes more important later...
Also, (thanks to Kimiki who brought it up) regarding Heero's age, in case anyone else didn't pick up on it from Wufei's story in Chapter 2 (I could barely find it again myself... eep): 'it has been something like five hundred and twenty one years since it happened', 'it' being the start of Heero's curse. So, 521 + 18 (how old he was when it began), Heero's about 539 years old. ; Please don't ask how, or why, or anything like that... I know such a long period of time would usually signal great developments, etc. But take it that Hei's been sealed off... and the whole world just... happened to stay the same. gomen!