Candlelight (4/?)
Author: Osco
Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xS
Rating: R
Warnings: Lemony goodness, violence, language, magical happenings, and ugly Trolls trying to ruin the story!
Summary: Retelling of the fairy tale, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" GW style. What if you made a mistake? What if the person you loved had to pay the price? How far would you go to save him? How about a place that can't exist?
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I am but a poor college student who has no hold over the characters whatsoever and is doing this as a pastime.
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Chapter Four: Learning to Love You
Quatre found himself just staring at the tall, mask-covered prince after he had introduced himself, trying to come up with something intelligent to say. He couldn't though, not with all the emotions flying through him at the moment…he had never had such a connection with someone so quickly after meeting him or her; not even with his own sisters! The blond was a firm believer in falling in love, not some instantaneous blast that hit suddenly, but what he was feeling now for this unknown prince was hard to describe as anything but the start of love…it was confusing and making him look foolish in front of his betrothed. He blinked a few times, fixing his blue eyes on the viridian ones, and opened his mouth to ask the prince something, anything, to break the awkward silence that had over shadowed them both. The prince beat him to it, however, raising a hand in front of Quatre's lips and speaking in the same quiet, calm voice that betrayed nothing.
"For reasons I cannot explain," the auburn-haired monarch began. His green eyes were almost leaking sadness and dread into Quatre…why was he dreading the words he had to say? Why did Quatre feel his breath catch in his throat at the thoughts of why? "I must wear a mask at all times to conceal my face from view. I understand that this was not part of the original agreement of your acceptance of my proposal, and therefore I relinquish any hold I may have on you. However, if it is your wish to still remain engaged with me, and you think you are able to look past this," he indicated the green mask with his forefinger. "Then I would like it very much to get to know you. The decision is yours though."
The prince finished his lengthy speech, lengthy because Quatre got the feeling that the young man did not speak when not necessary, but he looked desperately lost in the one eye that was visible beneath the mask and hair. Quatre didn't respond right away, he merely looked at the young man standing before him…he didn't look all that much older than himself really; maybe only a year or so, if that. Quatre reached out with his empathy and felt the emotions in the prince's heart, the ones that weren't locked away from sight at least, and the blond could feel how unsure of himself and vulnerable the prince was. After bringing Quatre here, something that he obviously wanted very much, he was prepared to let him leave if he wanted to…a choice that, perhaps even only a few moments ago Quatre wouldn't have found very difficult, but now...
He didn't know, not anymore. For some reason, Quatre felt bonded to this young man after only moments of meeting him, as if he had been waiting all this time just to meet him. Perhaps it was the beginnings of love, maybe it wasn't, but it was something powerful that the blond had never felt before…he wanted to figure out what it meant. And he wanted to figure it out with this green-eyed, silent man, mask or no mask. Quatre had felt the sincerity of his heart; it didn't matter what he looked like or why he had his face covered. He reached out tentatively and wrapped his fingers around the tall man's own, looking up and smiling into that closed off face.
"Let's start over," Quatre said in a kind voice. He almost felt as if he was coaxing this man out of his shell and mask, the one not visible on his face like one coaxes a wary horse. "Hello, my name's Quatre…what's yours?"
The tall prince smiled almost imperceptibly, something that Quatre found completely enthralling, before he answered in a lightly amused and relieved voice. "Hello Quatre, I'm Trowa."
Quatre smiled brighter when the hand tightened around his fingers and started to lead him down a path that led to a small gazebo in the gardens. There seemed to be a dinner already prepared underneath, with servers standing by with ill-concealed grins. Quatre arched his eyebrow at some of them; it appeared that he had been duped by the entire household all that day…not that he minded that much.
It was a silent meal for the most part, but it seemed natural, not uncomfortable or awkward. The prince asked a few questions about the blond's trip here, too which Quatre proceeded to tell the tale of the Troll king's attack with fervor…it was the only part of the journey that he found remotely interesting if slightly terrifying, and the tall monarch seemed to smile a few times. It was hard to tell because the cool mask of indifference was back as soon as the smile came, but Quatre could feel the amusement; it was nice to know his gift was finally good for something other than getting a headache. Quatre asked a question or two of the prince, but he evaded nearly every one with a subtleness that would amaze even the most skilled politicians of Araaban…it made the blond question why though.
"Prince Trowa?" Quatre asked softly as the last plate was cleared from the table, teal eyes meeting green across the table. "Can I make an observation?"
The prince nodded, a small frown quirking his visible lips.
"You're not very good with social situations," Quatre said with a smile and slight laugh in his voice. The prince's visible eye widened perceptibly under the mask and his mouth formed a small 'o' of surprise that Quatre caught before it disappeared…that alone was worth the bold statement. It was nice to know the true feelings of a person, but seeing that they existed physically was nice too. Besides, Quatre didn't like to pry into how others were feeling. He kept smiling when the prince flashed a small smirk at the blond as he rose from his seat.
"I suppose my sister and half this household would agree with you," the green-eyed royal answered in the same cool voice. He offered his hand to Quatre, who accepted it and allowed the prince to lead him back towards the Manor, which was now shining against the dark backdrop of the night sky. "I spent most of my youth with a band of hunters in the forests…Professor S thought it would help me grow into a good ruler with my parents dead. As Cathy likes to remind me, that wasn't an ideal place to develop social skills."
"Oh," Quatre said when the prince lapsed into silence again. Quatre narrowed his blue-green eyes and looked at the prince's profile with an expectant look; there was more to the story, he guessed, and he was going to get this man to open up, and he would use his pout if necessary. The masked face looked over and sealed his fate with one look at the wide, blue eyes and slightly jutted lower lip…he heaved a sigh.
"It also probably doesn't help that my main companions were my arms master, Wufei," Trowa continued, fighting not to smile at the blond's enlightened expression. "And Heero Yuy of Sive, both of whom you've met and probably gathered are not big on talking beyond what is necessary."
"I think that would be putting it lightly, your Highness," Quatre quipped with a knowing grin no his face. "Both seem to favor a system of grunts and stares rather than actual words! Does your sister not rub off on you at all?"
"Do yours?" Trowa responded, giving the now flushing boy a rare grin. Something about the young man just made Trowa want to drop all the careful barriers he constructed over the years…even at such a dangerous time to do so. He supposed that, more than anything else was what had ensnared him under the boy's spell. The fact that his face and form matched the inner beauty and glow didn't hurt either though.
"Well, I suppose not," Quatre admitted with a sheepish smile as he and the prince rounded a corner and proceeded down the hallway that led to Quatre's room. "But, I do have quite a few more than you, it would be harder to adapt so many different personalities into my own! I guess that no one but us can really influence how we act or feel."
"Unless you're an Empath," Trowa commented lightly, but then immediately regretting it when he saw the hard look enter the blond's blue eyes.
"I can't influence how a person feels," Quatre said calmly. He didn't take his eyes off the remorseful green orbs. "All I've ever been able to do is feel those feelings. Sometimes, I wish I could change what someone feels, if it's grief or sadness or anger but…but it's up to that person to do it on their own. Maybe there are Empaths who can do this, and maybe I can as well, I don't know much about my gift. But, even if I were able to do that, I wouldn't…it's not right to take someone's own emotions away and warp them into something else."
Quatre looked away as the pair continued silently until the reached the double doors of the blond's quarters. Quatre was starting to feel guilty at lecturing the prince like he had…what real right did he have to do that anyway? It wasn't like he was a noble who had a right to say things like that to a prince! Plus, now the tall man had retreated back into his shell; he had probably just been joking! Quatre looked up at the closed off, forest eyes and opened his mouth to utter an apology for snapping, but two fingers covered his lips before any words could escape.
"I am sorry if I offended you, Quatre," Prince Trowa said in a solemn voice that made Quatre feel even worse…the self-anger radiating from the man wasn't helping either. "It was not my intention."
"No…I'm sorry," Quatre said as he turned his eyes away from the masked face as the fingers left his lips. "You were only joking, your Highness, and I snapped at you. I…I shouldn't have done that and I…I'm sorry."
"What if I forgive you by offering to accompany me to dinner tomorrow evening?" Trowa asked in a calm voice with a slight smile coating the visible portion of his face. He tipped Quatre's chin up with his left hand and lowered his tone to an octave that made the blond's blood race. "And you forgive me be accepting?"
Quatre felt his throat go dry at the look in the prince's eyes, now so close that the other was visible under the shock of hair, and he nodded with a nervous smile…who knew that this silent young man was so good with words when he decided to speak? Trowa smiled softly for a second before leaning forward and brushing his lips against Quatre's cheek, leaving the shocked boy with that exact expression when he pulled away. "Until tomorrow night then?" Trowa asked as he stepped away, right hand leaving Quatre's left, leaving him with only the capacity to nod before turning on his heel and heading towards, what Quatre assumes, were his own quarters.
Quatre waited until the tall prince rounded the corner before sagging against the doors of his rooms and placing a hand on the spot where the prince…Trowa…had kissed. It felt so hot underneath his fingertips and Quatre could still feel the blood pounding in his ears as he pushed open the doors and smiled radiantly at Hilde, who had a smug look on her face for some reason.
"I take it went well, Master Quatre," Hilde asked as she caught the black vest the exuberant and humming blond had thrown at her as he waltzed into the bathing room.
"So well that I'm not even angry at you for tricking me, Hilde," Quatre replied. It earned him a smile from the petite girl. "The prince is, well, a bit different, but he's wonderful! He may be a little quiet but that just makes up who he is…I didn't even think it was possible to feel like this over someone you just met!"
"So I guess you can't fault the prince for his sudden feelings for you anymore, can you Master Quatre?" Hilde asked as the blond bounced back in and flopped down on his bed in his night clothes, sighing happily and seemingly ignoring the jibe sent his way. Yep, he's on Cloud Nine all right, Hilde thought to herself with a smile as she listened to the strange tune Quatre hummed under his breath.
When she received no answer from the distracted boy, Hilde gathered up the other discarded clothes from that evening and headed out the door. When she reached the door, she noticed that the blond was curled up happily on the bed, smiling in his sleep. The dark-haired girl smiled at the sight and resisted the urge to coo as she shut the door softly on the snoozing blond, hurrying off to the washroom to deposit the prince's betrothed's clothing to be cleaned. The washing girls would be happy for the bit of gossip at this hour anyway.
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Cathy was curled up in her favorite chair wearing a loose slip and a chemise over it, waiting for her probably frantic brother by pretending to read a book. Her curly hair was hanging loose around her face and she had a pleasantly pensive expression gracing her countenance; a look that turned positively wicked when her brother came striding into his study, ripping off that infernal mask as he shut the door. It was a pity for the silent monarch that his sister's favorite chair happened to reside in his quarters, and his shadowed face looked up to acknowledge her presence, the cool mask of indifference slipping off with an exasperated sigh.
"Things go well with your affianced, Trowa?" Cathy asked as she pretended to start reading her book again, trying desperately to keep the smile and giggle threatening to overwhelm her under control. Her look turned to one of sympathy when she saw the same lost look he had on his face earlier that evening…maybe things hadn't gone as well as she had thought they would. "Oh, Trowa, are you all right? You didn't trip and fall did you?"
"Might as well have," Trowa muttered as he disappeared into his dressing room, reappearing after a minute or so out of the stifling formal clothes and wearing a looser pair of pants with a tight turtleneck. He sat beside his older sister in adjoining chair and looked at her with pleading eyes. Cathy knew it must either be very serious, or Trowa just thought it was, for him to show so much facial expression, even to her! Sometimes she wanted to hang S for what he did to Trowa…
"Well, was it so bad that we should start looking for someone new?"
"No…" Trowa said before trailing off. Cathy waited patiently for him to start up again. "Everything was fine, and Quatre is amazing, it's just…" Cathy smirked in a knowing way; she had only met that blond boy a few times but she knew how easy it was to fall under his spell…her brother never stood a chance against those big blue eyes. "But then…I hurt him. I said something as a joke but he was hurt by it."
"Well," Cathy said with a calm air around her. She clasped Trowa's hands within her smaller ones. "That's why Sally and I prepared that back-up plan and apology statement in case you slipped a bit. Did that work?"
"Of course it worked…it was fool proof," a new voice said from the door, and both siblings looked up and were met with the smiling blue eyes of Sally Po. She strode into the room, careful to shut the door behind her when she saw that Trowa's face was only covered by his auburn hair. "The boy would have had to been completely dead inside to not have accepted that kind of apology. I don't know why you're looking so depressed Trowa…according to Hilde and some of the washing girls the only thing that seemed wrong with our new resident blond was an inability to quit smiling."
Cathy smiled brightly while Trowa perked up slightly, green eyes searching Sally Po's to make sure she wasn't just coddling him to make him feel better. "You're positive?" he asked in an almost analytical way, earning an affronted look and gentle slap from his sister.
"Yes, Trowa," Sally answered with another grin. "Whatever you did, that was all you and it sent that boy to bed in a strange land where he knows no one to bed with a smile."
"So," Cathy said with a knowing look over at Sally before focusing her eyes on her brother. "He's accepted another outing and is obviously not displeased with you…what are you planning on doing, little brother?"
"I don't suppose another walk in the gardens would suffice," Trowa asked looking at the scandalized expressions both women were wearing at his casual statement. He normally would not have asked his sister and the healer for help, enough knowledge and experience had taught him that over the years, but this was different…Quatre Winner was different than any other partner he'd ever had and he didn't want to mess anything up. However, sitting here and being barraged by their ideas and cheeky comments was starting to make him feel incompetent…why hadn't they told him how wrong he was going about the whole courting business before now?
"Of course it wouldn't, Trowa," Cathy sniffed, as if she was offended he had even suggested it. Frankly, Trowa thought her reaction was unnecessary, it wasn't like he was courting her or Sally. "You don't want to bore the poor thing, do you? Think about it, he's only been in Tria for a few days and has no real idea of the customs or sights it has to offer…it can't be too hard to come up with something!"
"There's always trying to figure out what his interests are," Sally poked in, drawing a scowl from the prince in the process. "I mean, he is going to marry you eventually…it might help to know his likes and dislikes."
Cathy clapped her hands together and made a small noise of pleasure. "Oh! I know! Why not take him down to the lake near Rame and go for a swim? A nice coach ride through the countryside to a smaller town of Tria after dusk would be nice."
"Cathy, that probably wouldn't work," Sally interjected with a pointed look at the princess. "Araaban, his homeland, is a desert like land…I doubt he even knows how to swim! Besides, don't you think it'll be a little late by the time they head back?"
"No, and my brother could teach him, "Cathy responded instantly with a wicked grin on her face. "I'm sure Trowa and the driver will keep a good track on the time. Besides, there's nothing as, ah bonding, as teaching someone how to swim. Trusting someone with your life, clutching for support, barely clothed…"
Trowa began to tune out the two women's conversation as they began to get more and more lewd by the minute. Who would have thought that two, 'refined,' ladies of the Tria Colonies court had such bawdy sense of humor? Instead of listening to the increasingly rowdy banter, Trowa focused his thoughts back on the smiling blond and how he had recaptured his very soul that evening without even trying. He knew when he first saw him in the field that he was potentially dooming himself…but that hardly seemed to matter anymore as the blond pushed his golden hair out of his eyes and smiled.
Trowa remembered thinking that he had the most gorgeous eyes he had ever seen…a swirling ocean blue that reflected green light from within their depths. His hair had framed his face perfectly, and that smile lit up his entire face…Trowa had already been craving this unknown boy before he had really realized it. And then, the boy started to play an old tune on his the worn violin for his working and saddened father in the dead fields…it wasn't perfect, but it didn't need to be. Trowa found that he couldn't take his eyes off the mysterious blonde as he sang in an unusual language with the violin and drove the weariness from his father's and sisters' eyes.
Seeing that same boy again tonight, dressed to kill in clothes that still reflected that of his homeland, Trowa had been flooded with the same feeling when those ocean-hued eyes turned and met his own. He had almost decided to screw the idea of giving this young man a chance to back out of the betrothal, but he knew that it wouldn't be fair to him to be engaged to man whose face he couldn't see when that had never been a part of the agreement. Those few moments before he gave an answer were some of the worse in Trowa's life…but the blond had taken his hand and he'd had to fight to keep from yelling out in success.
He knew about the blond's worry of Trowa's sudden proposal, and the prospect of getting married to a man he didn't really know anything about, but the green-eyed prince was determined to show him just how he felt. That was why he needed his sister's and Sally's help…all that time in the woods with the hunters and Heero hadn't really made him an expressive person. Luckily, Quatre seemed to understand, probably due to his empathy, but Trowa still felt an obligation to make him as comfortable as possible…if that meant trying to be more emotional than he was going to try! He had watched Heero make this very mistake…he wasn't going to and lose a chance to be happy just because circumstances warned against it.
Trowa shifted his train of thought back to the present, and smiled silently as the spectacle of his sister and the healer still debating what he could do with Quatre on their second 'outing.' He was loathe to tell them he had already thought of something to do…knowing that they had both spent quite a bit of time trying to come up with something suitable. He had a good hunch that, despite being new to Tria Colonies and all, that the blond would prefer something casual…he wasn't the usual nobleman or woman on a dignitary trip, after all.
"Thank you both for your help tonight," Trowa said suddenly, breaking the two women out of their conversation to look over at him. "But I don't think I'll need any help for what to do tomorrow night…I think a simple dinner and star gazing will suffice for now. So, good night Sally, Cathy," Trowa said as he nodded at the healer and pecked his sister on the cheek. He gave one last formal bow and departed into the dressing room, no doubt to get some sleep before dawn. Cathy and Sally looked over at each other before smirking and exiting the room to head off towards their own quarters; they didn't need words really as they knew they were both thinking the same thing.
Who knew that Prince Trowa could be so sentimental when he wanted to be?
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Quatre was beginning to get frustrated.
Oh, it wasn't for lack of comfort or boredom, because after three weeks of living in Tria manor, even though he was beginning to get quite accustomed to life in the new land, there were still many things that were new to him. His lessons with Wufei continued every morning and a friendship began to form between the arms master and student. He spent nearly every afternoon with either Sally Po, who taught him all different kinds of medicinal remedies and how to recognize healing herbs, or the Lady Catherine, who would exchange stories of customs and the Fey with him. No, it was not because of new customs, tiredness, or learning new things.
It was because after three weeks of courting, the prince had yet to do anything beyond holding hands or a peck on the cheek! Quatre understood if the green-eyed and masked prince was tentative because of the lack of social skills, but it was getting ridiculous. And that didn't seem to be it…it seemed to be more that the prince was unsure how he, Quatre, would react…which was just a frustrating. He had already discussed everything with Sally, who seemed very interested and amused by the whole ordeal, and it was decided that he was just going to have to make the first move…the healer seemed confident that the prince would respond. So, Quatre sat on the customary bench in the gardens at dusk, content with watching the sun set until the mysterious prince arrived, garbed in light brown breeches with a white shirt with a dark purple vest with, what he hoped, looked like a calm enough expression. It wasn't as if the prince was the first person he had ever been with but…it all felt so different he couldn't seem to squash the flutter of nervousness in his stomach.
"Good evening, Quatre," a baritone voice said from behind. Quatre turned around and smiled at the prince…who was dressed in what looked like dark greens and blacks; his mask tonight was dark green with white stitching. The blone let the prince guide him to a set dinner table, and the two, well really just Quatre, talked about the day's events while the other listened. Quatre thought it was odd that the prince never really talked about what he did during the day, for Quatre only saw him at night after the sun had set, but it seemed wrong to ask. A feeling in his heart told him that it didn't matter anyway; still, that didn't make his curiosity go away.
"Your Highness?" Quatre asked after the thought had been nagging him for the good part of the night. He had made it through dinner and the majority of their walk through the manor's menagerie, where the prince had uncharacteristically explained to him in great detail each animal's name, traits, and specific habits and stories, before the thought couldn't wait any longer.
Prince Trowa looked over at him and smiled softly…it was almost a foreign look on the usual stoic young man but it seemed spending time among the animals had loosened him up some. He gave a small nod, urging Quatre to continue with the unspoken question, as he glanced over at a strange looking cat with a mane, one Quatre had never seen in his homeland before, the smile slipping off his face like it was never there.
"I was just wondering," he started. Quatre glanced down at his hands before back up at the prince's profile. "What do you do during the day? I mean, I never see you before dusk and no one seems to talk about so I didn't know if it was a secret or something but--" Quatre knew he was rambling by that point and was thankful when the tall monarch stopped abruptly, turned towards him, and silence him with two fingers over his mouth. He, however, was not thankful for the dark look in the prince's visible eyes beneath the mask…those made him cringe slightly in fear that he had maybe overstepped his bounds. He was still unsure of most customs regarding royalty here and…well, he had just asked a personal question that appeared to upset the prince.
The green eyes seemed to soften somewhat though as the two fingers were removed from the blond's mouth, aware that he was making the smaller man uneasy. "Please, Quatre," the prince's voice asked in a soft, but stern tone. "Please understand that I cannot answer that question, for the same reason I cannot explain why I am to wear a mask in your presence. I just must, just as I must attend to other matters during the day that concern the good of my kingdom and people."
He kept looking at Quatre, face and eyes betraying nothing and Quatre feared to reach out with his empathy and feel what was going on inside; the gaze was penetrating and searing. Quatre diverted his ocean eyes towards the ground and back up from the monarch, he couldn't take the emotionless gaze coming from those eyes. "I'm sorry…" he trailed off in a near whisper, balling his hands in fists at his sides…so much for his plan that night. It hurt, the distrust that the prince, and apparently every one else in the household, had for him but coming from Trowa it hurt the most. He didn't even know why…
Quatre felt warm hands encompass his own and he tried to pull away, only to have those hands move to his arms and grip tightly, keeping him in place. He heard the prince's voice trying to get him to raise his head to look at those eyes again, but he didn't want to be met with that apathetic look when his own were brimming with an emotion he had dreamt of having but didn't really understand. But the voice was insistent and eventually Quatre heard, and felt, desperation in that voice that compelled him to look up.
"Quatre," the prince repeated for what seemed like the twentieth time. All traces of the cold, stern monarch were replaced with a shy and unsure young man. By Allah, it was impossible for him to stay angry or hurt because of the prince when he looked like that. "Quatre, I am sorry if I hurt you before…it seems all I am able to do lately. I do not keep things from you because I don't trust you, it's the exact opposite, but I just can't. No one here can or something terrible could happen…please, I need you to trust that. I need you to trust me in this…"
Quatre didn't respond right away, he was so shocked to see the prince so upset when he usual handled things with such coolness. In his shock, he forgot to enforce his shield and he was flooded with all the emotions coming from the tall monarch, all the emotions he kept hidden from everyone. There was so much worry and fear over something, anger at an unknown source, anger at himself for messing something up, but most of all, there was something that Quatre couldn't put a name to…something that he recognized in himself. It was so bright and warm, banishing all thoughts of doubt and worry away from the blond's mind…it was love.
Quatre snapped his eyes open, vaguely aware that he had not even felt them close, and looked back at Trowa…not the prince, or his Highness…just Trowa. Those green eyes were filled with anxiety and, even though the mask covered his face, Quatre was sure he was going to give himself wrinkles with his expression. He wanted, no needed, an answer, but Quatre didn't know how to voice what he was feeling…words just didn't seem to come. So, he opted to show him; he leaned forward and tilted his head slightly so that his lips brushed against the taller man's lightly, trying to convey everything that he felt with that one brief touch. He would trust Trowa in this and not because of the warning of disaster the tall man gave him, but because he finally understood that unknown feeling swimming inside his subconscious for the past three weeks.
He would trust this man because he had asked him to…and that's what you did when you were in love.
Quatre pulled away almost as soon as their lips touched and looked up at the startled expression on Trowa's face, despite the mask covering half of it. The grip on his arms slackened and Quatre felt for one terrible moment that he had perhaps reacted wrongly, maybe read the emotions wrong for once in his life, but the soft look that replaced the alarm first shown in the emerald green orbs erased those fears as soon as they had come. The blond felt one of the hands resting around his arm drift up and closed his eyes as he felt fingertips ghost across his cheek and then brush strands of his golden hair out of his face. He opened his eyes when he felt the other hand drift down and wrap around his waist, pulling him inches away from Trowa again.
"Would it be all right if I kissed you, Quatre?" Trowa asked in a quiet voice, his mouth centimeters away from the blond's. Quatre rolled his eyes at the question internally, but another part of him was thrilled by it.
"Yes, a thousand times yes, Trowa" Quatre answered in a husky tone that he hardly recognized as his. His eyes drifted close again on instinct as two warm and insistent lips pressed against his own, his arms wrapping around the taller man's neck as one of Trowa's hand cradled his neck and the other pulled their bodies together. Quatre shivered despite the warm weather, the feeling of Trowa's lips on his own so wonderful he thought his heart might burst.
Quatre felt something smooth and wet press against his lips and he opened his mouth, meeting Trowa's tongue with his own with a contented sigh. He had kissed before for sure, and had done a little more than kiss once or twice, but nothing he had ever felt compared to kissing Trowa. It was as if every place the brunet touched with his hands was on fire and everything was completely new, being reawakened. He tasted like mint and the warm breeze of the woods…it was like kissing the wild. They paused once or twice to get a breath when they needed one, but always met back together in a flurry of motion that ranged from sweet and tender to fast and urgent. It was by no means chaste, but it wasn't too much more than either were perhaps ready for…it was meant to be what it was and that was perfect for them; this night was perfect for them, Quatre mused as he continued to allow his mouth to be plundered and responded in kind.
Eventually, for another bout of air and because it was getting quite late, they pulled away from each other enough to put a halt to the kiss. Quatre rested his forehead against Trowa's throat for a moment, smiling when he felt a chin rest on top of his head. For once in his life, Quatre was happy he wasn't tall. He pulled his head away so he could look into those green eyes, which now seemed to be sparkling with a life that the blond hadn't seen there before. He smiled softly and rested his forehead against the chin that had been resting on his head.
"Shukran, Trowa," he whispered in his native tongue, pulling away and laughing lightly at the confused look in Trowa's eyes. Before he could even ask the question, Quatre translated for him. "It means 'thank you' in my native tongue…thank you, Trowa."
"What for?" Trowa asked as he laced his fingers through the blonde's and started to walk them back towards the manor, a slight hint of amusement evident in his pitch.
"Thank you for trusting me," Quatre replied with a grin. "And…and thank you for loving me…and for letting me love you."
Quatre almost laughed out loud when thought he saw Trowa nearly trip when he said the last part, but let it slide as the prince continued on as if nothing had happened. The hand around his tightened and tugged him closer, something the blond was eager to oblige…he felt safe and complete when near this silent young man. No more words were needed as they walked back to the manor, they knew and the words would come later. For now, they would just continue to learn and not worry about what the future might bring. They had love…what more did they need?
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Edited chapter for structure, clarity, and grammar. Enjoy!
