A/N: Love the Heero chapter, because every few paragraphs or so, he just starts blue-screening LOL

Chapter 20

The door shut on distancing footsteps, and I allowed myself a moment's respite to gather my thoughts and tamper down on my instinctive reactions. Even the familiar sight and smell of home wasn't quite enough to comfort me, especially when I could just barely discern Duo's voice talking rapidly to Meilan as they moved further and further away.

It was only when it became totally quiet that I turned around, ignoring both Trowa and Wufei – instead looking to Quatre. I could feel the pinched quality to my expression and knew that the blonde had already long discerned my current emotional state.

"Explain," I ordered him with careful control.

Quatre dipped his head briefly, understanding the total breadth of the question I'd condensed into that one word. "Following the incident of the greenhouse fire, the Duchess awoke with absolutely no memory except for his name. Howard reported that he also appeared to be suffering from— dreams, or something like it. He'd asked questions about himself and his place here, as befitting someone waking up with amnesia, but he'd asked other things that didn't quite make sense... about places they'd never heard of, about things that didn't exist."

Quatre paused, eyes calculative. "He asked about magic."

I stiffened.

"Of what nature?" Trowa asked, sinewy form still relaxed despite the sudden tension in the air.

Quatre shook himself out of his thoughts. "Nothing specific. He questioned its existence, and Miss Hilde assured him that it did not exist."

At least one person in this estate was doing their job.

"After some of his memories came back, some of the weirder questions stopped. From what Miss Hilde stated, the Duchess remembered some key pieces of information – things like being married to His Grace the Duke, being the youngest child of the Maxwell ducal family, some of his behavior regarding the servants and his extramarital affairs." Quatre kindly didn't acknowledge me tensing again at the reminder of Duo's more hurtful antics. "However, it was the details that escaped him; he knew he had cheated on the Duke, but he didn't know with who."

Wufei scowled. "I fail to see how his amnesia explains the content of the letters we've been receiving," he pointed out.

Quatre nodded. "To be frank, it's… difficult to understand," he mused. "At first, I also believed His Grace the Duchess had been faking amnesia in order to avoid the repercussions of his previous behavior after having a change of heart. It isn't uncommon that after a near-death experience, the Duchess would have thought better of his previous actions and wanted to take the proper recourse. He may have been too prideful to be willing to apologize for what he'd done, but he was still trying to fix the damage."

That did make the most sense, even if the very idea bothered me. I'd done my best to limit the amount of damage Duo could do, very well aware of what his lashing out meant; it'd taken a full season after the wedding before we'd finally found an attendant who didn't cringe away from Duo at his most acidic, and despite the animosity from both sides, Hilde had never mentioned wanting to leave and Duo had never tried to fire her.

The idea that Duo had a change of heart and felt compelled to fix the entire province out of sense of guilt didn't sit right. I'd never married him with the idea that he would give his heart and soul to the people of the Yuy duchy.

We were, after all, not a love match.

"So why did you discard the idea?" Trowa prompted.

Quatre winced. "Because of the list," he answered, looking exasperated by some private memory.

"The one Meilan mentioned?" Wufei asked. For all that they argued, he always took his wife's words at face-value, his trust in her as deep as it was in me.

Quatre nodded. "It was an itemized list of his wrongful behavior from before the greenhouse fire, covering everything from mismanagement to adultery to not appreciating my accounting skills," he sighed, aggrieved tone clearly implying how ridiculous he found the latter point. "Despite having no memory of the transgressions, he had no intention of absolving himself – he intended to take responsibility."

Trowa arched an eyebrow, the 'how?' obvious.

"He was going to present it to the Duke and ask to be banished to a territory of the Duke's choosing."

The words snapped something in me that I only just realized was being tenuously held at bay. "And who gave the Duchess the idea that banishment was a fitting punishment," I hissed. As if I'd ever intended to punish Duo for any of this, after locking him into a marriage he'd so clearly despised!

"It seemed to be the Duchess's own idea," Quatre refuted me calmly. "He'd presented his list to a small number of servants, and everyone was very much aghast."

Wufei's scowl deepened. "And where is this list now?"

"Oh, I burned it."

Wufei stared at him, taken-aback by the surprisingly casual tone. Trowa turned away for a moment, shoulders shaking.

"It didn't seem necessary to keep it," the blonde continued, tilting an apologetic look our way that nevertheless didn't seem that apologetic. "I'd run through every point on the list and of the small number that the Duchess hadn't already fixed or made proper reparations for, as long as he kept his current attitude, there was no point in discussing them further."

"So you burned it."

"Yes."

Trowa's shoulders shook harder.

While this answered some of the obvious changes regarding Duo's relationship with just about everyone in the estate now, it didn't quite satisfy what I was most concerned with.

Duo was, objectively, devastatingly beautiful. Whether he adorned himself in peasant clothing or the most eye-wateringly atrocious garments ever threaded, it was impossible to ignore the delicately-sculpted heart-shaped face, the cuttingly expressive violet eyes, the supple form that moved with an easy grace. He had unblemished skin as long as I'd known him; sometimes in the summer, a light dusting of freckles settled over his nose and cheeks as if kissed by the sunlight during his daytime garden walks, and even in the harshest winter his hair swept sleek and cozy against his back. There was nothing about Duo that was visually unappealing.

So why were there scars across his neck?

I hadn't seen them at first; it had been difficult to turn my eyes away from Duo's excited face when I first arrived, and even moreso when a pink flush settled across his cheeks as he hugged the flowers I'd gifted him close. Why would I ever look away from such an expression, the first time I'd ever seen warmth in Duo's eyes instead of scorn when he looked at me?

But then Quatre had alluded to Duo's suffering of a serious condition, and only then did I tear my eyes away from a gaze that no longer hated me and found scars on a neck that should never have borne them.

'Keep him safe,' Duke Maxwell had told me when I'd been given Duo's hand in marriage. A common instruction given to any groom by their in-law, but one I knew that was more a threat than a platitude when it came from this particular man.

Now there was evidence right on Duo's body that I could not do even that.

"His neck," I stated, words clipped and clear.

Quatre stood abruptly, bowing as low as I'd ever allowed one of my closest friends to do and then some. "I am at fault for the scar across his neck and the two on his arm, Your Grace," he explained.

"The two on his arm?" I echoed coldly. Given Duo's attire, his arms had been completely covered so I hadn't even seen them. However… "And there are two scars on his neck."

"The scar across the front of his throat is from the altercation with the human trafficking ring discovered here in the provincial capital," Quatre explained. "His Grace was captured by the traffickers and held at knifepoint until he threw himself and his captor backwards into a fireplace. The knife slipped, and though the injury was not severe, it did scar."

"What do you mean he threw himself into a fireplace?" Wufei screeched.

Quatre's expression hinted at absolutely nothing, a tell in and of itself. "I believe he didn't see a way out without us negotiating for his release, so he decided to risk his life to ensure that the man couldn't get away."

Duo threw himself into fire just to ensure some filth faced the proper punishment? Just for putting Duo at risk like that, I would have hunted the man down; there was no need for Duo to take that extra step.

"What of the other scars?" I asked.

Quatre kept his head bent low. "The two on his arm are from the same traffickers. Prior to our arrival at their headquarters, the Duchess was tortured. He was burned twice on the arm with fireplace tongs."

I felt absolutely sickened by the words as they trickled into my ears. The gutting feel of them was soon replaced by a stronger emotion: fury. That Duo had been caught in the middle of this—in danger—and then tortured.

"Is this why you requested the use of Sandrock?"

Trowa's question cut through both my furious ruminations and Wufei's blatant disbelief. Quatre nodded curtly in response.

"You swore to the Duke we'd never use them in front of the Duchess," Wufei stated coolly, at odds with the heat in his gaze. "Why go so far?"

'He should never know what you're actually capable of,' I had been told, a warning and a regret rolled into one. I'd made them each promise that they would keep this secret with me after my marriage, that unless circumstances were impossible and there was no other way, this secret would remain and the Duchess (and the kingdom at large) would be none the wiser.

"I…did not want to subject the Duchess to such an experience again," Quatre admitted softly, turning his stare on me and willing me to understand. "Those are not the only scars, Your Grace. There are so many more instances where the Duchess's life has been at risk, both before and after my return."

The words thundered and cut. Not just the bald statement of fact, but also the very implication: Duo was in danger and had already been hurt while none of us had been present.

"Gather the guards, Sally, and Hilde," I told them curtly.

Someone needed to answer for this; those who had been with Duo throughout the past year was a good place to start.

The sight of their prostrating forms had never sat well with me. I'd spent most of my childhood in a modest home, alone save for my mother. Even after her death and my father coming to take me back to the Yuy duchy, I was still alone; the nobles considered me dirty because of my mother's blood, and the servants considered me a noble because of my father's.

Sally, the only one who hadn't lowered herself to the floor in repentance, was still steeped in a low bow. She'd done her job, after all, and knew she wasn't here to offer apologies for Duo's current state. Despite the scarring, Duo had still recovered in her hands.

"The Duchess's injuries?"

As my confidantes always could, Sally answered the breadth of question despite how curt it had been. "Mild damage to the throat from smoke inhalation due to the greenhouse fire, now fully healed. A jagged cut along the side of his throat after a bandit managed to knick him – it's healed but left a scar. Another scar on his right arm from when one of the embezzlers of the Bluefield orphanage attacked His Grace with a hatchet; he also sustained a sprained ankle, although that has long healed with no complications. Two burn scars on his right arm after he was held down and tortured, and another scar across his windpipe after His Grace attempted to escape being held hostage – by throwing both himself and his captor in the fireplace."

Seven noted injuries that resulted in nearly as many scars. Duo had attempted to cover it with pretty garments and beautiful jewelry, but such permanent reminders would always be etched on his skin. Duo had always prided himself on his good looks and not looked kindly on the battle scars that littered myself and the other soldiers of the duchy; now his own scars were crawling up in number, all because he'd married me.

"Why exactly," I stated, words cold and clipped. "Has the Duchess of the Yuy family sustained such serious injuries while in his own province?"

The knights and Hilde offered no defense or pleas; I would haven't heard it even if they did.

Two scars across his neck – that was how close Duo had come to being killed. He'd been abducted and tortured while in our own capital; he'd nearly died in the greenhouse I'd built for him as a wedding gift. That Duo couldn't even be safe in his own home was galling. "The fault must fall on me – I failed to train you all enough to ensure my own husband's safety. Or maybe you found it too difficult to keep the Duchess safe in my absence?"

"The fault is ours, Your Grace," they intoned in perfect unison. Not one dared to lift their eyes, heads remaining bowed in contrition. It was clear to me, at the very least, that they were taking my anger seriously – although why they waited until I came back to take Duo's safety seriously only further incensed me.

I was well aware that guarding Duo was not a task my knights ever enjoyed. Between the Duchess's overt disdain for anything related to me and his infamously acidic tongue, I had to run stringent checks to ensure that the ones left in charge of his safety would withstand his taunts with minimal reaction to them. It was for that reason I was surprised Lyle was even part of this 'Duchess Guard'; while a gifted swordsman, Lyle was one of the more sensitive knights who wouldn't be able to deal with Duo's vitriol maturely.

Were they drawing straws again when it came to guard duty? I grit my teeth, eyes on Mikhail – the leader of the Duchess Guard – and was a moment away from snapping out some demand before Quatre interrupted me by stepping up to my side.

"They took their duty seriously, Your Grace," Quatre said in their defense. "They've trained very hard this past year to meet the demands of the job. If Your Grace believes they require more, that is well within your right – however, I would advise against reassignment. There is no one better than them to guard the Duchess."

I glared at Quatre full-force, mildly annoyed that it never seemed to affect the blonde. "You yourself admitted that the Duchess has been put in danger numerous times under their supposed guard."

"Unexpected and perilous circumstances," Quatre replied readily. "Training has been revised and increased every time. Your Grace – there is no one better, unless you plan to have Trowa and Wufei assigned as His Grace the Duchess's personal guard."

Quatre knew damn well that I could not, given their positions. That didn't make me any more agreeable however; I scowled, turning back to the kneeling guards. I could reassign some of the knights I'd brought to battle with me. Perhaps this year back home had made Mikhail and the others more lax, it was the only reason I could think of for why Duo kept getting injured that wasn't outright treason – an impossibility, if Quatre was speaking on their behalf.

"And the Duchess is fond of them," Quatre continued. "If you suddenly transfer all of those he trusts and has grown close to, especially in light of his current vulnerability, you only risk isolating him."

Quatre paused, staring at me. "Again," he reminded me harshly.

I stilled, the blonde's words heavy in my mind. I remembered Duo's face when I first arrived – nervous, in awe, warm – and then remembered him just a year ago, when he refused to even look at me. Duo didn't hate me right now, but only because he couldn't remember hating me in the first place; at the moment, he was more vulnerable than he has ever been.

"Simon's squad will be added to the Duchess Guard," I decided. Simon had been one of the knights who'd led some of the cavalry; his skills matched Mikhail's prior to our leaving the duchy, and had only grown in our battles with the barbarians. "He will be de facto leader until I have ascertained who shall remain in the Guard."

I didn't need to look at his face to see that Quatre did not agree with my orders, but he said nothing.

I turned away from them. "You're all dismissed. Prepare for the homecoming feast, as per the Duchess's command," I told them.

"Yes, Your Grace."

I'd only had a short rest after the meeting, followed by a shorter meeting with Howard just to check there was no emergency need to see to that he'd put off telling me about until I was home (there wasn't), and then the last couple of hours were spent washing up and getting ready for the dinner.

Homecoming feasts were not formal things, at least not if it was just us; I'd usually wear either my formal officer uniform or whatever clothes I had that was suitable for company. As it was usually just me and my soldiers, it would be too uncomfortable if I stood on such rigid formality.

So when the servants helping me get ready showed me the outfit I would be wearing tonight, I couldn't help the confusion. "Why?" I asked, staring at it.

Tsubasa, my chamberlain, looked offended I'd even asked. "You're escorting the Duchess this time, Your Grace," he told me primly. "Do you not wish to look your best?"

…I don't remember Tsubasa being this passive-aggressive before I'd left…

The outfit was a new addition to my wardrobe, as I certainly didn't recognize it. The top was a dark blue uniform jacket that fell just past my hips, embellished with thick, rigid silver trim along the collar, shoulders, and sleeve cuffs. Shining silver buttons fastened it closed over a plain white undershirt, matching dark blue pants which would apparently be paired with tall, dark leather boots. This was matched by the leather belt wrapped around the middle, the buckle a heavy silver. A soft, dark blue half-cape was draped over the left shoulder, trimmed in that same silver lining.

Homecoming feasts were not uncommon for me; as the Sanc Kingdom's premier fighting force, I often had to report to various posts to ensure everything was in place in our ongoing battle against Oz and Romefeller. It's been quiet for the past few years, so when I was ordered to leave my home, it was to report to the Capital or to squash some skirmishes in the barbarian territories.

Once I returned home, Howard and the others often set about preparing the feast to welcome us back. It was hardly an extravagant affair; it was enough food and drink to content myself and my closest group of men, although I knew the celebrations outside of ours were more raucous. After my marriage, Duo had never made an appearance; in fact, he usually wasn't even there to greet me at our return unless Hilde managed to convince him.

So the fact that Duo was not only hosting this, but also agreed to attend with me…

I knew it was just because he couldn't remember hating me. It wasn't fair to see this Duo as not Duo, or a new Duo; even without his memories, he was still my husband and the beloved son of Duke Maxwell. Just because he could not remember this didn't make him a different person. I wonder how much Howard and the others spoke positively of me, that a Duo with no memories actually looked happy to see me.

I remembered his blushing face as I handed him the bouquet.

Getting ready didn't usually take me very long, but tonight Tsubasa seemed intent on making sure I looked suitable to escort the Duchess. I was privately relieved for the help; as Tsubasa had remained behind in the estate, he would understand Duo's change in tastes the best. (He often claimed fashion was always changing, something I – and the others – hardly understood.) As long as I didn't look a mess for the first time Duo allowed me to escort him somewhere, I would be pleased with the result.

"I should have used conditioner…" Tsubasa muttered under his breath, standing behind me holding two hairbrushes and glaring mulishly at my hair.

…what's conditioner?

"How long are you going to preen in front of the mirror?"

I scowled, refusing to turn and acknowledge Trowa's remark. Tsubasa jumped at my Commander's voice – a natural reaction, given that Trowa had slipped in through the damn window again. He was wearing his usual outfit for dinner feasts, an understated dark green tunic over clean-pressed light brown slacks, tucked into tall soft leather booths.

"I'm trying to make sure His Grace can preen in front of the mirror," Tsubasa claimed waspishly, setting the brushes back down and picking up a jar of hair oil. "Melissa and the others will kill me if I let His Grace escort the Duchess looking like he'd just stepped off the training field!"

Was my hair that bad?

Trowa rolled his eyes behind the chamberlain's back, but wisely didn't respond as Tsubasa set in on my hair. I caught a few mumbles here and there ("…should trim it a bit, rogueish looks are only charming while traveling…") but the hair oil did the trick, taming my unruly tresses back into something that suited Tsubasa's more regal tastes.

I stood, taking a look at myself in the mirror as Tsubasa's eyes scanned me from head to toe. After a moment, he gave a short nod, satisfied with his work. "His Grace the Duchess should be ready within the hour," he told me, washing his hands in a water basin. "I'll send notice once he's ready."

I nodded distractedly, still looking myself over. Tsubasa excused himself, giving Trowa's hair only a cursory disgruntled look – he had some kind of personal vendetta against Trowa's bangs that appeared to have stayed despite the year-long absence.

Only after the door closed and we were finally left alone did Trowa give me a vaguely judgmental look. I suppose I should just be grateful that he and Wufei kept their more discourteous expressions away from the eyes of the other staff.

"I'm not going to preen," I assured him dryly.

Trowa only snorted.

True to his word, Tsubasa sent notice as soon as Duo was finished getting ready. The sun was close to the horizon by the time I was walking the corridor to the Duchess's personal chambers, Trowa walking with me as Quatre was apparently waiting with Duo. Wufei and Meilan should already be down in the Great Hall given their absence, so I only concerned myself with trying to pull my facial expression into something that wasn't too cold nor too eager.

It was just as we turned into the corridor that held Duo's rooms that I hesitated briefly, shooting Trowa a glance that I hoped conveyed my need to know what my face looked like at that moment. He met my glance with one bored green eye, head slightly tilted in thought.

"…You look like you're about to hurl," Trowa observed callously.

I glowered at him silently. I should have made him wait at the hall with Wufei.

Asahi was stationed outside of Duo's door as we approached, and as soon as he caught sight of us, he knocked on the door to alert them of our arrival. In only a moment, the doors swung open – Quatre was out first, greeting us with a soft smile before moving to Trowa's side so Duo could step out next.

Seeing Duo often felt like being struck by lightning; it didn't matter if his eyes glowed with contempt, if his face was turned away like he'd seen something unpleasant, or even if he looked distracted by something and didn't notice me right away – he looked almost viciously beautiful. It was true a year ago, it was true earlier today – and it was just as true right now.

They'd released his chestnut-colored locks from the gilded bun of the welcoming party, letting half of it flow freely down his back and over his slim shoulders in soft waves. The upper half was pulled into a thick braid, interwoven with a decadent silver hairpiece inlaid with a scattering of amethyst and diamond stones, tendrils curtaining up towards the back of his ears where they were then braided into the smaller braids that crossed over the crown of his head.

His earlier dress had been changed to one more suitable for the dinner feast: a thick, dark blue dress that hung snug on his shoulders, exposing once more the slender slopes of his collarbone. His nape and the scars that decorated his throat were hidden once more behind a subdued piece of jewelry that only seemed to bring attention to his slender neck. Long sleeves clung to the full breadth of his lean arms, tightened at his wrists by silver circlets. A thick, silver-brocaded belt cinched at his thin waist, the rest of the dress billowing out to cover everything below aside from the silver heels on his feet.

It took several moments for me to realize – we matched. Dark blue and silver, simple and straight-forward patterns in the style I favored; something Duo had never worn before.

We matched.

Duo smiled at me, and it felt like getting struck by lightning all over again. "You look so pretty," he told me, then froze in shock. His eyes had widened, white all around those vivacious violet irises, clearly surprised by the words that came out of his own mouth.

But not nearly as surprised as me, and I felt my facial expression twitch into something more indifferent to cover my confusion. "…You're beautiful," I told him, hoping that I was saying the right thing, but honestly – simple words like "beautiful" or "pretty" just could not do Duo justice.

"Not as beautiful as you!" Duo rushed out vehemently.

Is he competing for the final compliment? What is this?

"You…" I struggled, keeping the more verbose compliments at bay; Duo had never appreciated them before, so this was uncharted territory for me. To be safe, perhaps I should stick to the compliments I'd often heard directed at the dandies at the Capital. "You're very…thin."

Duo stared at me, smile dropping from his face and looking – horrified?

"But I've been working out!" he cried, turning a betrayed look on Quatre of all people.

Working out? What–?

"Your physique is perfectly fine, Your Grace," Quatre assured him calmly.

Duo's betrayed look never wavered. "Tell it to me straight, Quat – I look like a stick!" He pointed an outraged finger at the blonde. "I look like a twig that you could easily snap in half with a well-timed breeze!"

"You're a very beautiful stick, Your Grace," Asahi piped in supportively.

I would have glared at him for the unwanted comment, but Duo pulled out a small white pouch from his belt and threw it right at Asahi's face without even looking in his direction. It smacked him square in the nose and fell to the floor, peanuts spilling out across the stones.

"Why are you still carrying around peanuts?" Quatre demanded in an aggrieved tone. "We're going to dinner!"

Has Duo always carried around snacks?

Duo pouted, "Specifically so that I can throw things at Asahi when he says something rude."

Now I glared at Asahi. How often were his guards saying rude things that Duo felt compelled to throw nuts at them? Maybe I should have just dismissed the entire lot of them and had Simon's squad take over the Duchess Guard completely—

An arm forcibly interlocked with mine, pulling my attention away and back to Duo. I couldn't help but tense, still unused to this – a Duo that willingly touched me, that responded to me. He absently patted my arm with his free hand, murmuring something about "—be nice to Asahi, or else Hilde really will make him disappear and I need someone to take the blame for my next market tour…" but I couldn't really dwell on his words because he was so warm, pressed right up against my side.

"You alright, Heero?" he asked after I hadn't moved or responded (or possibly breathed) for a length of time, looking up at me. I abruptly realized everyone was waiting for us to start heading in the direction of the great hall, and that Duo had snuggled on to my arm in a silent cue to begin the escort. He was frowning at me now, but before I could mutter an apology for wasting time, he peered closer into my face, fingers skimming the underside of my jaw as if trying to adjust the angle.

"Did you not get a chance to rest?" he asked me in concern, and the expression was so new to me when worn on Duo's face that it felt as if my mind had stuttered, and all I could do was stare helplessly into worried violet.

"Oh my god, we're never going to leave this hallway," Trowa muttered under his breath.

Quatre, my only true friend, elbowed his partner in the side. "Your Grace," he began, and it took me a moment to realize he was addressing Duo, not me. "Just pull the Duke along. He'll be fine."

Clearly Wufei was my only friend here.

We did eventually make it to the great hall, the splendor of the decorations catching me by surprise; while it was true that this expedition had been one of the longest I'd been on, I still had not been expecting much of the homecoming. But they'd hung decadent tapestry all along the ceiling and walls, the tables overflowing with such an assortment of food and drinks that already some of the knights were salivating at the very smell of it.

The feast itself was its own event: dishes I was familiar with were among those offered, but so were dishes that clearly came from more Lagrangian origins. There were meats and seasonings I clearly recognized having come from Wufei's hometown, along with some other fare that Trowa or myself were known to favor.

There were new foods too, dishes I couldn't recognize the origin of that Duo, seated beside me, excitedly explained as he absently stacked my plate with both my favorites and some of these new goods. "And this is a burger," he said, placing what looked to be some kind of sandwich before me, along with a helping of thin-cut potatoes and, inexplicably, Wufei's favorite vegetable stir-fry.

Meilan, seated beside Duo, was doing much the same for Wufei – except instead of explaining anything, she was piling food on his plate with scathing threats. Trowa, seated beside me and next to Quatre, was silently eating a stew that Cathy had made when they'd both lived in the barbarian territories; Quatre himself was gracefully nibbling at some flatbread, although I'd catch an occasional amused glance in my direction.

"Burger?" I echoed blankly.

"His Grace the Duchess invented it," Meilan told me, breaking off mid-threat to Wufei.

Duo made a noncommittal noise. "Technically, Morris invented it," When did Duo learn the name of the cook? "I just told him about the general idea."

"The general idea?" I echoed again.

"I heard about it from a friend-of-a-friend."

Hilde let out a pained sigh behind us for no reason I could understand.

The feast wound down to dessert and drinks; as was our usual, beer and wine were served, although there was now the new addition of Duo's famous whiskey. I vividly recalled the first taste I had of it from the care package Duo had sent; the wooden scent and warm burn reminding me of the Duo I saw now more than the image of him I had carried in my mind when I'd left a year ago.

"Oh, this is bourbon!" Duo said, pouring a glass for me with a wide grin. "Granny Meg finally nailed down the distillation process. Heero, you've got to try it!"

He shoved the cup into my hand, which I mechanically lifted to my lips to drink. It burned the entire way down, the taste lingering afterwards so much stronger than the red wine I had been drinking earlier. I didn't let it show on my face, which was good, because Duo was watching me with avid eyes.

"It's good," I stated after it felt like I could speak without choking.

Duo beamed at me, and I couldn't really think about anything else except the way his smile softened the look in his eyes. "Right, right? I knew you'd have better taste than Quatre!"

"Some of us like our taste buds," Quatre muttered from the right.

Duo scoffed at him, pouring me another glass of bourbon(?) and oblivious to the way Trowa tensed at his dismissal of the blonde's words. Quatre patted his lover on the arm, a silent conversation passing between them that I ignored in favor of downing another glass to Duo's open delight.

I don't really know what I expected of a Duo who came to my homecoming feast. I'd seen the way he acted at some of the social events at the Capital: sequestered away with the other ladies and dandies, talking amongst each other; dancing with different gentlemen on the dance floor, obviously and silently rebuffing me by refusing to take my hand; laughing quietly with the limited amount of nobles he invited over to our estate in the Capital, as if he too were a guest in his own home.

A Duo that attended as my partner was something new. He sat beside me the entire meal, talking excitedly about pretty much whatever seemed to come to mind for him: the food ("And this is a jalapeno popper!" "Why does this burn more than the whiskey."), the décor ("It'd look even better with string lights!" "String lights?" "Yeah, give me like… 6 months." "?"), Meilan and Quatre ("Meilan, stop drinking, remember what happened last time—" "You didn't even like that birdhouse, Your Grace." "That's not the point."), the garden ("I couldn't find pumpkin, but that's fine, I can make do with squash!")… There wasn't a chance to feel uncomfortable as his chatter washed over me, pleasant and entertaining.

When he'd been with the other nobles in the Capital, in those fleeting moments where he caught sight of me, his expression soured and the words he traded with his fluttering sycophants were barbed and derogatory. The way he looked at me now was completely different; his eyes sparkled in the warm, low light of the room as he poured me glass after glass, trading banter with Meilan that elicited more of that charming laughter I'd only heard long before we'd been wed. There were so many more expressions I'd never been privy to as well, such as the way his cheeks and ears flushed a light pink when he was embarrassed.

"Go on, tell him! Tell the Duke what you named your horse!" Meilan cajoled, a little wine sloshing out of her cup as she gestured to Duo.

Duo slouched a bit in his seat, nursing his glass of bourbon and refusing to meet anyone's gaze. "You're the worst friend," he complained into his cup.

"Miss Catherine let you pick out a horse and what did you name him," Meilan insisted.

Duo mumbled something into the glass.

"I think it's a lovely name," Quatre interjected cheerfully.

Meilan threw a grape at him. "You're also on your sixth glass of wine," she snipped. "And you're married to Barton."

"I guess I deserved that for just sitting here, minding my own business," Trowa murmured airily.

"Shut up, you're a cat whisperer."

"I'm a what—"

I ignored them, turning curious eyes on Duo. "What's the name of your horse?" And when did you decide to get a horse? I'd offered him a plethora of horses at the beginning of our marriage, but he'd turned down the offer and (scathingly) replied he'd only be riding in carriages.

Duo peeked up at me from his staring contest with the bourbon, and I ignored the way my stomach flipped at the sight. (It might just be from my third glass of bourbon, honestly.) I looked at him in what I hoped was an encouraging way, but alcohol had a tendency to stiffen my features instead of relax them.

"…I named him Skeletor."

I stared at him.

"'Cause, you know, his face is all white but the rest of him is solid black…"

…So he named his horse after a skeleton? Only he changed one letter?

"Skeletor!" Meilan echoed in utter glee. "The thing is as docile as a puppy, and he names it like some kind of ghost!"

"You are so drunk right now," Wufei scowled at his wife, pouring a glass of water and shoving it into her hands.

"It's a fine name for a horse," I told Duo evenly.

Duo grinned, darting a victorious look Meilan's way. "Heero says it's a great name!"

"He said it was 'fine'," Meilan retorted. "Not 'great'!"

I glared at her. "It's a wonderful name," I enunciated clearly.

"As if we should trust your tastes, you're friends with Wufei."

But you married Wufei?

"You're married to Master Chang!" Duo shot back in my defense.

Meilan slammed her now-empty glass down on the table. "No! He's married to me!"

"No, I'm married to a drunkard," Wufei griped, pouring another glass of water but instead of handing it directly to Meilan, he stood and pulled her up with him. "We'll retire for the night. She needs to sober up a bit before she sleeps, otherwise she'll wake up with a hangover and make it everyone else's problem."

"I'll make you everyone else's problem," she muttered, but didn't protest as he led her away.

It wasn't long before Quatre and Trowa bid their goodnights as well, obviously intent on having a more private party as they vanished from sight. I chanced another look at Duo; he'd finished his glass and was now glancing around the hall, which still had most of the knights happily drinking and talking amongst each other.

"Shall we retire?" I asked him, masking my tentative tone with indifference.

Duo jolted, looking at me before quickly looking away. "Uh, yeah, okay!" he said, then inexplicably took another shot of bourbon before standing. I was quick to stand as well, holding out my arm to him which he hurriedly took; despite the fact that he'd never once rejected my arm today, it still sent a pleasant tingle down my spine.

I led us out of the great hall after bidding the remaining knights to enjoy their time, and we were followed only by Hilde several paces behind us. We could still hear the merry-making even out in the corridor, which was warmed only by the passing lanterns. Duo's exposed shoulders and collarbones seemed to taunt me in numerous ways with every glance I took at my husband.

"Spring nights are chilly," I recalled aloud.

"Uh-huh," Duo agreed lightly, and I remembered he'd had far more to drink than I did.

Still, even with the warmth of bourbon in his belly, it didn't seem right to let him get cold – so I quickly unclasped my half cape, pulling it over Duo's shoulders so that his skin was no longer exposed to the cool night air.

"Oh, thanks," Duo blinked up at me, re-taking my offered arm. "You aren't cold?"

"I'll be fine. You're more delicate," I replied.

Duo frowned at me. It may have been a scowl, except I'd seen Duo scowl before, and it never looked that soft. "I'm not delicate," he told me, and then completely unprompted, hip-checked me. It didn't hurt but it did get me to stop walking, completely surprised by the move.

Now Duo was pouting. "You didn't even budge," he complained. "You're like a brick wall. How the hell are you so sturdy?"

"Training," I replied, promptly and unthinkingly.

Duo nodded in sage agreement. "I need to train more," he murmured to himself.

Duo training? To what – effectively hip-check me?

"You're fine as you are, Duo," I told him softly, and meant it. Whatever version of Duo I was met with, I was also fine with; I married a Duo that despised me, and spent a homecoming feast with a Duo that seemingly enjoyed my company. I cared for both of them equally, regardless of what they felt for me.

We were, after all, not a love match.

"Heero…"

Duo spent a moment looking at me, and his violet eyes almost seemed to glow in the shadows of the corridor. His eyes had often been likened to amethyst gems among the court nobles, each compliment effusive in their adoration for my husband's looks. I could see it sometimes, in the cold light of day when Duo looked at the rare things he did not hate, but more often than not his eyes looked like the sky in that haunting hour in the middle of the night, when the light of the stars seemed too far away to reach.

Beauty does not mean good, my father had told me on my first day among the nobles of Sanc.

Good does not mean kind, Solo Maxwell had told me, handing me a scroll with blood-specked fingers.

I reached out to Duo now, gently placing his hand – still uncalloused, as it should be – in the crook of my elbow. I led him, quietly and sedately, back down the corridors to his bedchambers. With every step, he leaned a bit more on me, and I tried not to think about the warmth he exuded at my side.

There was always the possibility he would remember to hate me. There was always the possibility he would learn to hate me again. Duo's affection was a thing of the moment, only to be enjoyed for that moment – and perhaps coveted later, when that warmth returned once more to ice and night-sky eyes.

It was only when we reached the door to the Duchess's bedchambers that Duo finally hesitated, pulling us to a stop a few meters away. Asahi, still guarding the door, had moved to open them as Hilde tread past us to go inside and prep the area for Duo's bedtime rituals.

"Duo?"

"Heero, I…" Duo looked at the door to his bedroom, then back to me, then at some point past my shoulder. "…I think I need another drink."

I didn't like to police Duo's hobbies or drinking habits, but given how much bourbon he'd consumed tonight, any more drinking may risk his health. "I don't think anything but water is a good idea," I carefully suggested.

Duo paused, thought about my words – and the length it time it took him to do so made it obvious just how drunk he was – before vaguely nodding in agreement. He still didn't move to enter his bedchambers, and I wouldn't leave until I saw him go safely inside, so we just remained standing together in the hall for another few breaths.

(Asahi looked like he wanted to die, but I didn't pay him any mind.)

"Heero, I…" Duo's eyes turned away from the unseen point past my shoulder to some indeterminate point on the floor. "I don't remember…our wedding night."

I blinked at him. "…That's okay," I said. With what little he remembered, I doubt our wedding night was that important; it had been a night spent in our separate bedchambers after all, and the following morning, he'd refused to meet for breakfast. It was hardly a night worth remembering.

"So I… I don't really remember," Duo continued, and followed this befuddling statement with some nonsensical gestures that probably only meant something to Duo's drunken mind. "You know?"

I stared at him.

Duo pouted. "Sex, Heero. I don't remember having sex," he explained in a frank tone.

(Asahi was definitely dying in the background, which was good for him because otherwise I would kill him to ensure his silence.)

The easy way those words slipped off his tongue made it sound like Duo was talking about some treat he'd forgotten to try while traveling abroad. I wasn't even granted any mercy – which was likely for the best, because my throat had dried up and words seemed much too hard to force out at the moment – as Duo continued speaking.

"So this will be like my first time," he said, pulling his hand out from the crook of my arm, but only so he could grab my shoulders. I had no choice but to look him straight in the eye, and I really hoped it was the bourbon that was making my stomach flip and my face heat up. "You've got to be gentle, okay? I know you just got back but this body can't really take a pounding."

("I'm not here, I'm a wall… I'm not here, I'm a wall…" Asahi chanted quietly to himself.)

"And there are times people prefer a gentle lover," Duo continued, because this was apparently a fascinating new way to kill me.

"Duo," I heaved out, before he tried to suggest positions or something else certain to make it impossible to look him in the eye when he was sober. "We are not having sex." And never have to begin with.

Duo blinked wide eyes at me, shocked by the very notion. "Really? …Why?"

Don't ask me why. "You're drunk," I told him, although this reason was one of many.

"…Oh yeah, I guess I am," he mumbled. "Well, okay then… If you're sure…"

"I'm sure," I stated fervently. "Drink some water before you go to bed, Duo."

"'Kay, you too," he said to me with a little smile, patting me twice on the shoulder before turning around. The sudden movement of his own body knocked him off balance and he pitched sideways; I jerked forward to catch him before his body could hit the floor, moving back to an upright position with him cradled in my arms.

"Good catch," Duo slurred to me groggily, then promptly passed out.

I stared down at him, heart racing.

"Asahi," I bit out.

"I'm sorry, Your Grace, I am not Asahi – I am a wall."

Right. "Then this wall better maintain a vow of silence and say nothing about what just happened."

"Walls do not have ears or eyes, Your Grace, so you can rest assured that this wall saw and heard nothing," Asahi swore with glazed eyes, clearly unwilling to face reality. At least he understood discretion.

Hilde took that moment to step out of Duo's room, and didn't look even remotely surprised or disgruntled by our current position. "Your Grace, the Duchess's bed is ready," she said, tone utterly bland. "If you could lay him down, I will watch over him tonight."

I didn't need to be told twice. I set Duo down atop the soft sheets of his bed, taking only a moment to make sure he was comfortable. Hilde would help strip him of some of the more restrictive layers of his clothing, so I needn't worry about doing so and crossing those boundaries Duo had set up prior to his amnesia.

Still, there was one thing I could do to make Duo just a little more comfortable; with gentle fingers, I reached behind his neck and undid the clasp on the simple silver choker wrapped around his throat. It was different from Duo's usual taste in jewelry: thin silver netted together over the expanse of his throat, with only the occasional small bit of diamond sprinkled among its intersecting layers.

I set it to the side, surprised by the weight and chill of it. It was a good thing I'd wrapped my half-cape around Duo, if even his jewelry had gotten that cold from our short walk. "Sleep well, Duo," I whispered to him, pulling my hand away before I gave in to the urge to ghost my fingertips along one of his flushed cheeks.

I turned away, nodding goodnight to Hilde as I swept past her and out of Duo's bedroom.

I ignored the way my fingers tingled.

A/N: To everyone wondering why no one (maids and Gundam boys alike) notices Duo's creepy new jewelry, I have two words for you – hyper jammers. ;)

Please be kind and drop a review! :)