'No One': You brought up some interesting points. I wondered if someone would question the whole skin shedding deal. In order not to have a ghostly snake skin floating around some nameless town, I pictured him flaking off his skin like a lizard. No giant Trowa-skin. He sheds yearly..., and when he met Quatre, he had already shed. That was why he was so shiny!

Jess-eklom: Tao could come back.

Sir Gawain of Camelot: Personally, I believe I suck at romance..., because I never believed in the true love bit. However, that may be to my advantage. And now I'm beginning to not make sense.

BigSister2: If you see another snake-Trowa fic point them out to me. I can't have anyone ripping off my idea! Though, I just remembered the first snake person I saw... Anyone who's ever watched the Aladdin series on Disney (Don't own Disney) would know where I was going with this. However, that episode was not in my mind when I brainstormed this idea..., or perhaps it was; I don't know. I'm just pointing out that my idea isn't as original as I thought it was.

Note: This is actually from Trowa's POV. Hehe, I planned it all along, but honestly it flows better this way.

SSS

I don't know how you could stand touching me. I felt cold against your skin, didn't I? You felt hot against mine. When you kissed me, your lips were so soft. It's hard to understand. Your feather-like kiss, I could barely feel it through my thick skin. I'm cold-blooded, and not just because I'm a snake. I was once a cold-blooded person. You want to know about my past? Here it is.

You're already aware that I come from the North. The North is ruled by many lords; all lords bow down to one king, His Majesty Trowa Barton, and the ruler of the Barton lands, naturally. Trowa had two children; the first was a girl. His wife bore him another child, and by customs too absurd, he named his second offspring and first-born son Trowa- just like his father before him.

I grew up in luxury; however, I was always aloof and anti-social. Some claimed I wasn't human. People were convinced that I was inhuman when the King died from illness; I didn't shed a tear for my father. Nor did I cry when my mother died a few months later. My sister shed enough tears for both of us.

Physicians were worried that there was some sort of mental illness preventing me from showing emotion. I was subjugated to many treatments, and magical remedies. Don't scuff Quatre. Magic does exist. They used leaches, bleeding, and experimental drugs, all claiming they could cure the unnatural prince. My Uncle allowed these inhumane acts. I was merely twelve, but I knew I was being punished for being born. My father's brother's son, who was also name Trowa, was next in line before my birth. However..., I think you fully understand.

Trowa was a different man than I was. He was at least ten years my senior; he was open and rarely held anything in, a true man. He could relate with people far better than I, but due to circumstances beyond both of our control, I was next in line for the throne. I never had any friends, Quatre. The only ones I could confide in were my sister and our sorceress...; though, she disappeared shortly before my father's death. My parents were dead, my uncle hated me, and I wouldn't even allow myself my sister's comfort. However, when she came along, everything changed.

The gardens held a special place of tranquility for me, and it was a different sort of feeling most people got from nature. This was the one true place I could be alone, away from people. At twelve years old, I was the most lonesome boy in the world, but don't make any mistakes; I wasn't lonely.

A squirrel caught my attention. It noticed my eyes on his furry little form and bolted. Perhaps, that was why I preferred animals. Their emotions reflected in their actions. The courtiers, my uncle, and even my sister all projected false emotions. I could never relate to a creature that pretended to laugh without actually being happy, like I knew what happiness was.

A soft female voice interrupted my musings, "If you stay that why, you'll turn to a statue... not that I care or anything." I was startled, and much like the squirrel, I eyed the possible new threat wearily. However, my face didn't reveal any emotion. A girl my age stood before me with wavy blonde hair; her eyes, her cold gray eyes, scrutinized me. Those eyes surpassed her tender age.

"It's true what they say about you. You are a cold, unfeeling bastard. I was hoping you would at least be a little scared," she told me with scorn. No one has talked to me like that. Not even my uncle had the guts to insult his future king. I couldn't be upset with her, though.

Instead, I asked, "How did you get in here?" She showed no reaction. This girl was hypocritical; her porcelain face barely twitched. Didn't she know who she was dealing with? I could have had her thrown in prison for sheer insolence She stood there, perfectly still; her eyes were gray glass. I was starting to believe she was a life-sized doll.

"Does it really matter?" she finally spoke.

"Where did you come from?" curiosity persuaded me to speak to this girl.

"Here and there."

I stared into her cold eyes unflinching. I wondered if people saw the same look in my eyes.

Twice, my questions have been carefully avoided. "Do you at least have a name?"

"Midii, Midii Une," she answered with a hollow, distant voice. The petite girl fiddled with her silver locket...; it looked silver, but I was sure it was a cheaper metal. I watched her fingers intricately move against the cheap trinket. This girl somehow had the power to force me into conversation without saying a word.

"Do you have a place to go home to?" I said. My voice suggested we were talking about something less dramatic, like which flower she liked the best.

Her face contorted, and I knew she wasn't a doll. "What do you think?" Her gray eyes were now cloudy like a vicious storm. "You are cold, you know that?" Something inside me cracked, but not my expressionless mask. The girl was beginning to get infuriated with my lack of reaction. "Bastard," she hissed.

For some odd reason, I wanted to prove all those things she said were lies. "...You could stay here."

She looked at me like a sideshow oddity. "Here?"

I nodded. "The cook," I explained without knowledge of the servant's name. "She has been complaining about her lack of help."

She cocked her head, still calculating, still cold. "Fine," she conceded while grasping my hand in hers. She commanded softly, "Take me to her."

I lead while she held my hand tightly. "But this doesn't change a thing Your Majesty; you're still a cold bastard, and I hate you."

"I know." It was impossible to argue with fact.

A month later and Midii fit into my life, and the life of the castle. It was highly suspicious how well she adapted, but I didn't care. For once in my life, I had someone to subdue my growing loneliness; for once in my life, I actually felt lonely without her presence. She made me almost dependant of her company. Our time together was different from most people. I don't believe I've ever been insulted more in my life than when I spent one hour with her. Always, her curses and insults were calculated; they were always said at the appropriate times to catch me off guard. However, Midii always seemed disappointed when I didn't protest her taunts. She would stare off into a space no one else could see, and always fiddled with her locket.

One day, I searched for her in the kitchens. "Why do you hate me?" I asked with no real hurt in my voice.

After she scrubbed off the table, she turned to me. "I thought it was obvious," Midii said lightly. "I can't stand emotionless guys who close themselves off to the world. I want you to get angry, and I want you to be afraid; then I would know I was talking to a normal boy and not a brick wall. I bet if I stabbed you in the heart, you wouldn't feel a thing."

"What heart?" I countered lazily. My lips formed a rare smile when I saw her eyebrows raise to her hairline.

Later that night I was interrupted from my non-memorable dreams. "Wha...?" I questioned before yawning.

"Move over," Midii commanded with a low whisper. How did she get in my room? I stared at the small girl highlighted by the full moon. "I said move over. I had a bad dream, and I don't want to be alone." With half of my mind awake, I slid from the warm center of the bed. The bed shifted behind me, and I felt the warmth from her body radiating only inches from me. I was a tired twelve year old boy, so I slept. When I woke up she was gone.

Every night after that, the blond would creep into my chambers and curl herself in my bed with the excuse of troubled dreams. I began noticing a change in the girl. She slowly became more reclusive from everyone. Midii never hunted me out, nor did she instigate conversation that would be rude to most. The only response I could receive from her was dull pleasantries. Other than the fact that she was boring me, I was genuinely concerned about her. I was concerned about a person other than myself for once. She still visited every night. I noticed a change in temperature. Her skin slowly grew colder, as her soul withdrew from me.

I was sleeping lightly, that state of mind that allows you to live in two worlds. A butterfly flapped its blue wings next to my ear. I heard the wind rustle with every beat. With every light gust of wind, the butterfly spoke. "You don't care about anyone but yourself; you're cold and emotionless. It doesn't matter whether you can claim you're human or not, you're still a cold-blooded monster." Dew fell from the insect's wings and trickled down my face. "So," the familiar voice said. "It doesn't matter to me." A hot-cold liquid trickled down my ear and woke me up. (1)

Glassy gray eyes stared directly into mine. Her salty tears fell freely and unashamed down her doll-like face. "Midii?" I questioned. I was surprised that she chose to come to my chambers shortly before dawn. I was more surprised that she was crying.

"It...it," she stuttered with pure emotion. "It's all your fault!"

Confusion clouded my mind for only a moment. What gripped my body next was a series of sharp, hot pain racing from my toes to my head in waves. It was difficult to explain, but a hot iron would have been less painful. My eyes, blurred with red, stared at her quivering form. The blond clutched onto her locket tightly..., so it held poison, after all. Realizing her betrayal, I still could not hate her. How could I hate someone who understood me so well? Her eyes were wide with fear. Was my death..., or rather dying that grotesque.

"You're a cold bastard Trowa Barton," she hissed through her teeth. I watched the conflicting thoughts in her eyes. Guilt, pain, love, obligation.

That urge to prove her wrong resurfaced. "I...I'm not." When I collapsed to the ground, I was sure those were the last words I would ever speak.

I was pulled from the darkness. Odd, heavy eyelids fluttered open. My whole body felt odd. It felt like I was completely wrapped in thick sheets and pushed in a small space. I tried to stand on my knees, except my body had a hard time deciding what my knees were. My arms still worked. I lifted myself up and soon realized how difficult it was to lift all of myself. Realization came slowly. Denial, disbelief, and shock took their proper order. I was a monster; pure and simple, but why did the girl betray me so. I wanted to cry more than I ever cried at that moment, but found myself unable to shed a tear.

I heard deep male voices and harsh footsteps; I panicked. No one could see me like this. I slipped out the window easier than I would have liked, thanks to my new body.

On the castle grounds, I heard them shout. "Where is the prince?"

Another voice questioned, "Was he really devoured by a demon?" I? Devoured by a demon? Had Midii planned this all along? This deception didn't benefit her in the least, so what was her purpose. Obligation. Why? What was her obligation and to whom?

My musings were interrupted by a frantic shout, "There! Down there!" A slight wind and harsh whistle passed my ear. I stared at the wooden arrow like it was part of a nightmare- one of those nightmares where you couldn't move.

"Steady your arrows! There's no way we'll hit it in this light," I heard the command. I tried to yell back to affirm my identity, but my tongue slipped between my pointed teeth uncomfortably. The sound that came out sounded like an angry hiss.

The rest of the night was a blur to me. Somehow I managed to escape. However, news of the murderous demon in the skin of a snake spread through the North. Eventually, a bounty was put on my head for my very own death. The irony does not escape me. The only choice left for me was to run. Though, I can't say I fared much better in this land. My life since then and now had been uneventful. It has been years since I've been cursed. It's hard to keep track in the wilderness. All I know is, I could never dare go back.

So, are you happy I told you? Can you feel the bitter realization? It's impossible for me to ever go back to the way I was. You're wasting your feelings on a reptile. Quatre walked right past me. With my advanced senses, I could feel his whole form shake. He uttered one simple, bitter word.

"Liar."

(To be continued...)

(1) Poison in the ear? I stole that idea (loosely) from Hamlet. Romeo and Juliet is extremely over-rated.

Midii's motives are... practically the same as in Episode Zero. She is only a pawn. I'll give everyone three guesses who the mastermind is.