Temper the Soul
Chapter 24
By zapenstap
Audrey waited with Julia on a paved walkway between a rose garden and a stretch of green lawn, staring at the country estate house that stood imposingly before them. The estates were what Julia called "barter land" because it belonged to a nobleman who had no need for it, but kept it as an asset to be used in making deals. The house and the land about was abandoned, or had been until recently. Whoever the estates belonged to in actuality, Abel Gardiner occupied the house now. Julia said that according to her information, the estate did not belong to Gardiner himself, though the house may have been given to him at some point in the past. It hardly mattered really. Audrey was not interested in the politics of real estate.
The house was small for an estate but enormous and elegant for an ordinary house. In another setting it might have looked lonesome, for it had no neighbors for miles, but in this setting it looked like fortress. It was a fortress. Audrey had never seen so many armed men crawling around such a premise as this. At any other time she might have been afraid, but all she could think about now was that Damion was in there somewhere. If Julia and Audrey had had any thoughts about trying to sneak into the establishment and rescue him, they were soon forgotten. The moment the plane landed they were met by armed soldiers and escorted to this place on the walkway while Gardiner was informed of their presence.
Eight men with guns surrounded them now. Two had been sent into the house as soon as the girls were contained. From those that remained, they were not talked to or touched. Audrey hardly noticed them. She wasn't thinking about her own safety. She hardly even perceived herself in any danger. Two women travelling alone in silk clothes and curled hair could not expect to be treated like a mortal threat. Audrey knew she was not threatening. She and Julia were more of a curiosity. Besides, in reality Audrey did not come here to threaten Gardiner. If anything she came to plead.
Ignoring the armed men, Audrey watched her companion out of the corner of her eye. Julia's thoughts were perfectly veiled behind her smooth face and sparkling eyes, but a small, amused smile pulled at the corner of her lips. It was a flirtatious smile, the sort a man would look at and not help but wonder what she found so funny, especially in a situation like this. And men were looking. Audrey did not care what Julia was smiling about and did not wonder if she was attempting a deception or not. Both their lives were forfeit.
Eventually, one of the men that went in came back out of the house and walked toward them. Audrey waited, trying to keep her mind from guessing what he might say. When he reached the group he had a short conversation with one of their guardsmen and then turned to them with a devilish smile.
"Gardiner welcomes you in," he said, and bowed to them, extending an arm to the door.
Audrey had to school her features to stillness, though her heart raced in her chest. She turned her head to look at Julia, but Julia did not look at her; the other woman's eyes were focused on their escort. He was watching her too, looking puzzled and curious and incomprehensibly pleased. She smiled at him, looking up at his face from beneath her eyelashes. Then, abruptly and very coolly, Julia turned her gaze straight ahead, lifted her dress off the road and began walking. The man who had been eyeing her looked briefly annoyed before turning his attention on Audrey.
Before he could speak, Audrey brushed passed him, feeling as if a barrier had been broken between herself and Damion. She clenched her fists at her sides, trying to calm herself, to breathe properly, and not to let her emotions rule her. Either Julia slowed down or Audrey sped up, but somehow Audrey ended up in the front of the procession, the guards trotting along behind to keep up with her, grinning at one another. She did not know or care what any of them thought. Perhaps they considered two women showing up at the door to be a part of some sort of prostitution service, but she only wanted to see Damion. She wouldn't let herself think that he was not otherwise than alive and well and waiting for her.
The men guarding the front door let them pass with blank expressions, though their eyes followed Audrey and Julia questioningly. Once inside, she gave practically no notice to the white tiles of the foyer floor, the gold-framed pictures in the walls, the blue tapestries, or the polished wood furniture. What she noticed were a great many directions she could take: a spiral staircase, an archway to the left, or one of several doors both on the ground floor and in the landing above. Burying her frustration, she stopped, breast heaving, eyes scanning the room.
One of the guards seized her arm in a tight grip. She hardly paid any attention, hoping only to be led where she wanted to go, until another man grabbed Julia and made as if to pull her away.
"Unhand me," Julia said testily. To perhaps everyone's surprise, the man let go of her arm with something like an apology. Other than lowering her arm, Julia did nothing. It was like she had expected it and so there was nothing to do.
"Pardon me," the man muttered. "But Gardiner will only suffer to see the dark-haired woman."
Julia blinked long, curled lashes at him and smiled a secret smile. "I would not dare to disobey him," she murmured. Audrey merely felt alarmed, but not enough to give her pause. "A word with my friend?" Julia requested, but it sounded like a command.
The guards exchanged glances and then surprisingly backed up a few paces, leaving Julia a little private space with Audrey.
"Julia," Audrey began quickly, dropping her voice.
"Don't worry about me," Julia told her quickly with a soft smile and hawk-like gleam in her eye. "Concentrate on finding Damion. I don't care if you can rescue him or not, but find him and stay with him whatever happens."
"I fear there is little we can do except buy time."
"It will have to be enough." Julia smiled at her. "You're strong," she said. "Your fears are for him and I admire that. If we do not meet again, know that you have my respect and endorsement." With that, she lowered her voice and spoke beneath hooded eyes. "Don't worry about Gardiner or any of these fools who follow him. Just find Damion any way you can. I will try to buy us some time."
"How?" Audrey whispered, but she wasn't allowed to receive an answer. The guards had grown impatient after a few moments and roughly grabbed Audrey again about the forearm. She yanked her arm back, glaring, and they released her as they did Julia, but the two women were immediately separated. Julia was prodded upstairs by four guards, but by the way she headed them with her dress lifted delicately in one hand and her head lifted high, they might have been mistaken for servants. There was no time to worry what might become of her.
"Come on," her guard said roughly in her ear. "He's waiting." Audrey was led through the archway on the left and then through a small hallway and to a door. She lifted her head and straightened her back as one of her guards knocked on the wood and announced the presence of the "dark-haired woman."
"Come in," a voice replied in smooth tones. Audrey immediately recognized it and felt suddenly uneasy. But even with that fear, a new strength suffused her. Taking a breath, she tilted her chin up as the doors were pushed open and she was allowed to walk inside.
Standing alone in a study by a wooden desk and a bookshelf, he was everything she remembered. With her arms at her sides and her back straight and stiff as the thin trunk of a young birch tree, she traced his form with her eyes and not a single emotion in her breast. He had the same brown eyes, tanned skin and reddish-brown hair that she remembered. But more clearly she recalled his beautiful hands with the long, slender fingers that were now wrapped around a heavy goblet of wine. His dark eyes glittered as he looked at her, and lifting his other hand, he put out a cigarette into an ash try and waved at the guard negligently.
"Leave us," he said curtly. The guards backed out and the door swung shut, leaving her alone with Abel Gardiner.
*****
Relena discreetly held Heero's hand, slipping her palm in his and interlacing their fingers against the seat as they sat in the backseat of the truck. Wufei was driving with Duo in the front seat. Trowa and Quatre were in another truck with Lief and a few others who had been with Wufei in Camadrie. Lief's brother had been seriously injured in the fighting and had to be practically tied down to keep him from coming to rescue his prince from Gardiner. Wufei said the reaction among the Taravren soldiers at the news of Damion's capture had inspired entire units and may have had something to do with how quickly they had overwhelmed Gardiner's mob forces and retaken the city.
"You should have seen it, Heero," Wufei told them once they got out on the road. "I've always believed what Treize said about how a fighting man's spirit is perhaps the most beautiful thing to behold, but I think he might have been wrong about why. It's not the fighting itself. We've all seen some magnificent battles and some ghastly ones. When I was with Mariemaia I was fighting for the fight when I should have been fighting for the peace or not at all. Treize believed in winning and then--because of us--he believed in losing, but I don't think that determines beauty. I think the difference has to do with what you are fighting for. Heero, you should have seen it. When word came to us that Damion Ravineere was taken by Gardiner, our Taravren soldiers went absolutely wild. Even the ones that were wounded or dead exhausted got to their feet, picked up their guns and fought harder than I've ever seen men fight. We captured the city three hours after we found out. I've never seen anything like it. The mob broke and fled before us like nothing you've ever seen. After the fighting was done I expected everyone to be tired and want to rest, I had to be selective about who would come on this mission. Everyone wanted to. Everyone. If I brought too many it would take too long, but even so there's six hundred of us all together, mostly Taravrens but not all."
"I wish I could have seen it," Duo said wistfully, leaning back against his seat with her arms behind his head. "I haven't seen any real fighting in a long, long time. It's not that I miss the battles, but that feeling you're describing…" He stopped speaking as if he had hit on a topic simply too personal to talk about.
Relena leaned her head against Heero's shoulder and squeezed his hand for strength, trying to imagine the scene Wufei described. She smiled to herself. Peace wasn't something that was given to you. You had to fight for it. But she supposed there were other things that were also worth fighting for, and to Taravren soldiers who had sworn fealty to their government and their Prince in the same oath, this was one of them. To them, Damion was like a piece of their country under siege. Only because he was a human being as well as a prince and a symbol, it was more personal than that. In a way, it helped to think of it that way. If she starting thinking how well she really knew him, that he was a friend, it was almost too painful to bear.
"I just hope we're not too late," was all Heero said. It was all he had been saying for awhile. She prayed it wasn't because he thought they might be and wanted to cushion the blow. She couldn't imagine what would happen if they found Damion dead. She didn't know if she could bear it.
Relena closed her eyes and then opened them, still leaning against her husband and reminding herself that whatever Heero Yuy set out to do would get done one way or another.
*****
"Well," Abel said smoothly, and extended the goblet of wine to her. "If it isn't Miss Audrey Veron. It's been a long time, my lady."
"Has it?" she said absently, and took the wine without even thinking about it. Ahe merely held the glass, staring at him over the rim in some consternation. He knew her. He spoke to her like they were old friends. Perhaps if she handled this carefully, if she humored the part of him that must have gone mad… "Abel, I'm here about Damion. I…"
"I know why you're here," he said pleasantly, though he had cut her off. He smiled to take away the rudeness and glanced at her sideways. "Do you really love him?"
"Abel…" she began.
"Of course you do," he said, waving his hand. "I can't blame you, I suppose. He is a Prince. And fairly good-looking too, or he was. Do you think sleeping with him would ever be as good as what you and I had?"
Her tongue clove to the roof of her mouth. Sensations lost in memory evaded her mind as she tried to recall what it had been like. She was afraid seeing him again in this situation would be terrifying, but it wasn't. She knew him too, and even though she was afraid, it was not of him. "I don't remember that night," she said, and forced herself to look him in the face. "I was…"
He shrugged, blinking. "Drunk. I was pretty fuzzy too, actually. I think if you hadn't drowned yourself in that wine, you would have had a better time." The look he gave her then might have been meant to be comforting, but instead it chilled her. "I was gentle with you, if you wanted to know," he said.
She didn't remember, but he was making her feel sick. Why were they talking about this? "Where is Damion?" she demanded, and hated herself for sounding so desperate. "Have you done something to him?"
He set his goblet down with something like annoyance. "You're pathetic," he said. "I thought you would be the last woman in the world to react like this over a man." She opened her mouth, but found she had nothing to say. She had never been regarded with such scorn. "Don't tell me it's because he loves you," Abel continued. "I've watched far too many girls become absolutely revolting creatures so that some man that will bother to pay attention to them, even the smarter ones who know men bother with women just for the sex. It's deplorable." He glared at her with something like anger. "I thought you were a little more independent. A woman who needs a man to make her feel special is a disease. You know, it's funny how many girls become sluts without admitting it, especially those who then turn about and degrade other girls for more honest behavior."
"Abel, I'm not here to discuss social problems and gender differences. What have you done with Damion? Where is he?"
"You were an ice queen," he told her as if she hadn't spoken at all. "You were rude and cold and it took me half the night to soften you up. Do you even remember the things you said to me?"
They talked about her mother. Of course she had repeated the things that she had learned growing up. She answered him with a hollow voice. "That men are dogs who treat their playtime like it is important work and reduce the work they should put into their families into play."
He smiled and lifted his goblet again. "See, you should have stuck with that. It's true. I've never gone after a girl with any other attitude myself. Sex and women are fun and games to me. Even men who agree to marry are still playing games, you know. They just happen to like a particular piece better than others, like idiots who have to be the car in monopoly."
"You think Damion is playing games by marrying me?"
"Sure. He's more of an idiot because he expects love and romance too. Don't look so surprised. I have my informants. I've been waiting for this for a long time."
She tried to say something, but he cut her off, continuing along his original track. "It's a game he's playing with you, my dear, a fantasy if he wants to play too, and you are both fools. I hate people who have money and power and can afford to waste their attention on something so obviously trivial."
"Damion does not see this as a game," she forced in, narrowing her eyes. "He's forced to marry me, or if not me, some other girl of my status. He doesn't have a choice."
Of all things, he laughed at her. "Oh please. Ruling is a game too. A beneficial marriage is a like a nice solid card in your hand that makes winning the game easier. Rulers get paid to gamble with other people's lives and then they reap the benefits. They don't care. Do you honestly think he has any idea what he's doing?"
"Yes," she said, and couldn't stop the tears from forming in her eyes. All the hours Damion had spent in his study pouring over papers and proposals were never for himself and he did not pretend like they were that amusing. He spent so much time learning about his staff, his work, the people, trying to understand and satisfy everyone's expectations. He was brought up to do the work and he had powers he used more discerningly then even she had expected. The upper class were taught their responsibilities, but like any people they could choose how to utilize their privileges. Damion was taught well and learned well. He was an honest man with responsible parents. He had an entire court who both loved him and loved to be ruled by him. He understood what he was doing. He was a real prince.
Gardiner clearly didn't understand. She didn't think Abel saw Damion as a person at all. He was like an icon, a symbol of everything he hated, everything about his life that was miserable growing up. Maybe it made sense to blame the government and in doing so the prince who headed it, but it was uncharitable. Gardiner's misfortunes were not Damion's fault. She was terrified that Abel considered them to be.
"What have you done to him?" she whispered.
"He was still alive when I left him," Abel replied, taking a sip of wine. Then he smiled at her in the most sickening way. "You keep asking about him. Are you so desperate? Is he that good of a lover?"
"I haven't slept with Damion," she said angrily. Her stomach trembled with anxiety and she could scarcely breath normally. "Why do you care about that? I love him, but I haven't shared his bed. That's not why I am here. What have you done to him? Abel, he's a man, a human being. Please…"
He cut her off. "Oh, you haven't? Really? I wasn't sure." His smile looked strangely triumphant. "God, that's too perfect. I get to fuck you and he doesn't. It was all worth it then. Shit. What were you waiting for? Or is he the one with no balls?"
She refused to react.
"If he's not available, do you want to have a second go with me while you are here?" he asked, and laughed again at the expression on her face. "Oh come on, please. I really think you might have enjoyed it the first time. First times are always a little bit awkward and you were completely sloshed, but like I told him, you have a really great body and it was a real breakthrough getting you into bed at all. I honestly think you would have dismissed men completely if it hadn't been for me. You know, he probably thinks our night together is the root of all his problems with you, but you were the same self-possessed bitch before you met me as I'm sure you still are now."
Her hand tightened around her wine goblet. God, that was true.
His smile looked more vicious than amused. "So don't blame me if your love life is a failure and you're sexually frustrated. There's a nice girl hiding in you somewhere. She came out when you were so drunk you could hardly see straight, but I'll bet your prince is too soft in the heart to possess you. A girl like you isn't going to melt at kind words. I tried that. You didn't open up until I told you you were cold bitch and started touching you. First you protested and then you decided you liked it, big surprise. But that takes a deft touch, and your prince is too virginal to know what the hell he's doing."
Tears sprang up in her eyes. "Don't pretend anything you did that night was for my benefit," she said hoarsely.
"We did," he corrected. "And I'm not. I fucked you on purpose to get at him. I'm just letting you know that you wanted it at the time and maybe it's not such a bad thing. I wasn't trying to hurt you. I don't hurt girls."
"I can't believe you would say that," she said. "You hurt me. I know I'm self-possessed. I know I'm terrified of love, but you made it worse. Damion should have had the right you stole. He should have been the one to show me it wasn't so bad. And you're wrong. I did respond to kind words. Damion never forced anything on me. He was patient and he cared and that's what I needed. Even if I was ready, he would have waited for the wedding because that was the honorable thing for him to…"
"You're sickening," he spat. For a moment he looked at her in silence. "Well, are you ready now?" he demanded. He looked positively furious. And this time his anger was really directed at her.
"I love him," she said clearly.
"Shit," he said, shaking his head. When he looked up, his eyes smoldered with hate. At that murderous look, she wanted to shrink away, but all she did was stiffen her knees. He smiled menacingly at her. "Well," he said, never moving his eyes, "It doesn't matter anyway. I'm done with him."
She choked back the fear and panic that boiled in her gut that remark. "What do you mean?" she whispered. His lips twitched, amused by her panic. "You said he was alive. Abel, you said he was alive!" She shouldn't have taken that tone with him.
He walked toward her as she backed away with a gasp, watching him with wide eyes. She wanted to tell him to stop, but she couldn't speak. Her wine goblet fell from her hand, crashing against the floor and soaking the carpet with a red stain. He ignored it, pressing her backward. When her shoulder blades hit the wall, he smiled at her. She flinched and turned her head away as he reached toward her and fingered the tresses of her dark hair. Pressed with her back up against the wall, her heart beating a mile a minute.
"I didn't kill him," Abel whispered, and touched her face with one hand, his fingers sliding down her tear-stained cheeks to her lips. "I just gouged out his eyes. Come on, now, don't cry. I know they were very pretty eyes, but something had to be done. He was too high, see? I couldn't pull him down. He wouldn't go."
She sobbed, wilting against the door, trying to shrink away. "No." She saw Damion as she always remembered him, smiling at her with those brilliant gray eyes, the first thing she had noticed when they met. And then she saw him with two, bloody, gaping holes in his head where those eyes had been and broke down. "No."
"I did," he said. "I was mad and it seemed fitting."
"Tell me you're lying. Oh God. Please tell me you're lying." Damion's eyes were like the morning, gray as the day at dawn. This couldn't be real.
Abel touched her face, trying to get her to look at him, but she couldn't open her eyes. "Stop crying," he said, almost like he was talking to a child. "Audrey. Audrey, stop." She choked back her pain and forced herself to look at him. "I'll tell you what," Abel murmured. "I'll let you see him. How's that?" He withdrew something from his pocket and held it before her eyes. She looked at it through her tears, staring at a small silver key held between his thumb and forefinger. "See?" he said. "This is my apology for that night. I never meant to hurt you. You can let him loose and I'll leave you two alone for a few hours." The kindness in his face faded briefly. "But in the morning," he said. "I'll have to kill him. You understand that, right? I can't just let him go."
She covered her mouth with her hand to keep herself from being sick, hot tears leaking from her eyes. Violently, she shook her head, but she couldn't respond.
"Don't cry," he said. "Do you want to see him? Are you ready to go?"
She nodded and took the key and straightened, searching for the reserves of her strength. If Damion was blind or maimed could she still love him? Her heart was already sold, but she couldn't breathe. The images were too horrifying. Still, she remembered what Julia said about just finding him and not worrying about anything else. Right now, she didn't think she had the strength to do anything else.
Gardiner opened the door for her and led her out of the room and back into the hall. Like a gentleman, he kept a hand hovering behind her back, guiding her without touching her. The combination of his manner and the things he had done threw her. She did not understand how he could be gentle one minute and cold and vicious the next. She wondered what his mind was like, what his life had been like to turn him into such a monster of a man. He could have been brilliant.
He led her silently to the front of the house and then through the doors in the back. Ignoring the guards, he guided her to a staircase that led down into a pit of blackness.
"Where is he?" she breathed as she walked down the staircase in front of him, searching the walls for a railing. There was none.
"There's an underground cellar beneath this house," Abel murmured behind her head. "Watch your step. There's a light, but I'm not going to turn it on."
They descended into darkness. At the bottom, he took her hand and pulled her to the right. She let him and followed, able to see absolutely nothing and needing his hand to help her. At last he stopped and tugged on her wrist until she stepped forward. Abruptly, she felt her hand on a cold metal door and halted. Then she heard the jingle of keys.
"There's nothing else in there," Abel told her. "So don't worry about tripping. I'll come for both of you in an hour or two." She had the impression he was smiling. "Even in the circumstances, I hope you have a good time. And don't fear for your life, my lady. I'll be sending you back to Taravren to carry the message. That way I won't have to send his head to make them believe that their prince is not immortal."
She closed her eyes as he opened the door, but she managed to walk in from darkness to darkness without being prodded, not thinking of the morning or any other time but now. She had the feeling if she had not arrived today Abel would not have waited at all. The door slammed shut the moment she was through.
There was no light and no sound in that cavern. She had no idea how big of a space she was in, or what was in there, but she kept the little key clenched tightly in her fist. She was afraid to speak in the darkness and the silence, so she listened, trying to hear over the sound of her own heart beating.
There was a sound of someone moving, like a body shifting some distance away, and she moved toward it, breathing in through her mouth, feeling her heart race with fear. She couldn't speak even when she was right there, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from another human being sitting on the ground near her. But she couldn't see anything. Carefully, she knelt on the stone floor, the cold piercing the thin silk of her white pants, and reached out to find a body where she heard one.
"I'm awake," a voice cut sharply through the blackness, and her heart leapt up in her throat. She wasn't sure whether to be more happy or heartsick to hear Damion's voice in a place like this. She had never heard so beautiful a sound as his voice, though. It washed over her like cool water, even with the fear she detected from it. When had she last heard Damion speak? When had she last touched him? The night of Heero and Relena's hurried wedding, so long ago.
"Who are you?" the voice spoke again, and she wanted to find his mouth so that she might kiss it.
"Damion," she whispered, afraid the way her own voice echoed in this blackness. "It's Audrey. Are you all right?" The hand not holding the key made contact with what she thought was his shoulder. She almost couldn't believe he was really there.
He tensed, freezing up under her soft touch. "Audrey?" he breathed.
"Yes. It's me. Damion…." Tears drowned out the coherence in her voice so she shut her mouth. Carefully she traced her fingers up his neck until she found his face. Gently, she felt it, trying to map out the shape of it in the blackness. She was afraid to go anywhere near his eyes.
He sat perfectly still under her hands, but it was definitely his face. "Audrey?" he said again, and his voice resonated with disbelief. "What are you doing here?" That last question held so many emotions she couldn't sort them out. He might be wondering anything.
"Damion, your eyes. I…" She choked, unable to ask or speak about it.
"My eyes?" he whispered half in fear, and then realization seemed to come into his voice, and with it a deadly strength. "God, he told you he…? They're fine. Audrey, my eyes are fine."
She choked, disbelieving.
He laughed, a hollow, frightened laugh that caused her stomach to turn. "He had a knife. He said he would remove them, but he didn't. He just…" he trailed off, as if afraid of going further, perhaps for her sake. "He just wanted to frighten me. He's trying to break me." He sounded angry, not so much about what Gardiner had almost done but that it was clear he had been very frightened, perhaps enough to satisfy Gardiner without blood.
Her whole being flooded with a feeling of relief. "I don't care as long as you're all right," she said. Swallowing, she touched his face again, searching for his eyes. He had closed them and she felt his eyelashes under his fingers, the eyelids closed. Softly, she let her hands fall away again and sat back on her knees.
There a silence between them for a moment. She didn't know what to say. She could hardly understand that this was Damion, not in a place like this. She wanted to hold him and she was afraid to.
"Is it true?" he asked quietly when her hands left him. "About you and him?"
Her body felt numb, but she responded with all the truth and conviction and strength that remained within her. "It's true," she whispered, and bit her lip. He didn't say anything more. He was strangely quiet, almost distant. "Damion, let me unbind you. I have a key."
He sounded disorientated. "He gave you a key?"
"I don't know why," she said.
"My wrists," he whispered.
It was wrong to cage him like this. With tears still in her eyes, she found the key in her hand and traced a path from his face to his chest until she found his arms and then his hands. They were tied together with something like wire cables very tightly, wrist to wrist. She searched frantically for a lock until she found it. Inserting the key, she turned it until she heard a click. The lock fell to the stone floor with a soft clink, but the wires remained tight until she began to carefully unwind them.
Damion took in his breath sharply and tensed up. As the wires came off his hands, she felt the skin on his wrists only to find it raw and chafed. He jerked his hands back when she touched it, clenching his fists, and then the wires were loose. She smiled and then gasped as suddenly his arms wrapped around her and pulled her close. She choked back a sob as he drew into his lap like she was a child and stroked her hair, but she felt more like he held her for his own comfort. Even so, she came readily, leaning her head against his chest, listening to his heart beat and trying not to feel as if she were the one who need comforting. She could have told him then that she had worried about him, that she loved him beyond all her bounds, but she couldn't say anything at all for several minutes.
"Does he mean to kill me soon?" Damion asked, sounding half disinterested.
His arms felt so right around her, but he wasn't squeezing her as tightly as she would have wanted. It was almost like he didn't have the strength to hold her properly. "Yes," she told him.
"Why did he let you in here?"
"I don't know," she said. "He said it was an apology, for the night he, we…" She couldn't finish. "I'm sorry, Damion."
"An apology," Damion said grimly. If he registered her apology to him, he wasn't able to reply to it. She didn't blame him
He sounded so tired. Most of his words seemed disjointed, repeating what she had said, speaking small phrases and sentences. She pressed her head against his chest, seeking warmth and comfort by his proximity, but he let out a short and sharp cry from the pressure, the muscles in his chest tightening as he pulled back from her. She sat up, alarmed.
"What's wrong?" she asked, sitting between his legs now, trying to make out his shape in the blackness. "Damion…"
"Nothing," he said. "I'm okay. Just bruised. How did you get here?"
"I came with Julia," she whispered. "And Relena. Relena is with Heero in the field. I know they will come to rescue us if we can stall long enough for them to get here."
He didn't say anything for a moment. "Julia? Where is she?"
"I don't know," Audrey said.
He seemed to be trying to think, to process what was happening. The questions he was asking almost felt out of place, like he was searching for the right thing to say and couldn't quite comprehend what was going on. It was several minutes before he spoke.
"You're not a dream are you?" he whispered suddenly.
Her mouth parted and she swallowed. "No. I'm here."
"And Heero and Relena are coming to rescue me?"
"Yes," she told him.
Again it took several minutes before he answered. When he did, his words made no sense. "I've forgotten, Audrey. If I hadn't loved to remember…"
"Damion, are you really okay?" she whispered.
His voice was clearer when he finally replied. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm just tired. They don't allow me to sleep. I don't know how long I've been here."
"Days," she told him. "Have you eaten?"
"No," he said. "And I haven't thought about it much."
"Water?"
"A little," he said.
"Can you move?"
"Not really. I think I forget what it feels like to walk. I don't think I have the strength anyway."
Aghast, he reached forward and touched his hair, smoothing it to the side of his face. "Baby, you need to sleep," she whispered, and realized her cheeks were wet with tears.
"Baby?" His voice sounded so thick and strange, as if he was reaching through a fog.
She froze. They had never used affectionate terms for one another before. "We have nothing else to do," she said. "Gardiner may have let me in here because…" she licked her lips. "I don't know what he really expected, but…"
Damion laughed weakly. "He wants me to sleep with you? Even if I had the energy, I wouldn't in this place."
"I know," she said. "But take advantage of the time. Sleep. Damion, you need to."
He was quiet for a moment. "I can't," he said.
She realized he was afraid. Her breath caught in her throat. What had Abel done to him to make sleeping a thing to fear? Carefully, she moved out from between his legs and knelt beside him, positioning him to lie against her chest. He half fell into her, his hands clutching her waist. "Yes, you can," she said as he settled against her, and gently brought his head down to her shoulder. "We have a few hours, maybe more. I'll watch over you." She could tell he could not relax. She was pretty sure his eyes were wide open. "Damion," she said in a quiet voice, and stroked his face with the tips of her fingers. His skin was smooth and soft, almost surreal. "Do you remember the time you took me out to the countryside, when you were so exhausted from staying up late nights to work? You slept by me then. "
"I remember," he murmured.
"Close your eyes," she whispered into his ear. " I'll take care of you now like I did before."
If he wanted to reply, he didn't seem to know what to say, but she did not expect a response. He began to breathe a little deeper, his head sinking heavily against her breast. She shifted until she could put her arms around him and then just held him. She knew he had fallen asleep when he stopped moving, but he slept for only about ten minutes before he started awake again in a panic. Reassuring him with soft words and reminders of her presence, she soothed him with delicate touches and coaxed him again to sleep. When he fell asleep again he didn't wake up, breathing deeply. He was fatigued to the point of sickness. He hardly sounded like himself. Soon they would go home and he would be restored. She would revive the man she had fallen in love with. She had to believe that.
*****
When Abel Gardiner entered his rooms, he was smiling to himself and couldn't stop. The prince and the duchess, together in his dungeon. He didn't even care what they were doing. What he wanted now was a glass of wine. He supposed he would give them an hour or two, but it was getting to be time to be gone from here. He didn't really want to kill the prince, but he couldn't leave him alive.
His rooms were luxuriously furnished and usually quite comforting. He had meant to pass the time in contemplation alone, but there was a gilded, golden, gorgeous woman sitting in a chair by his window.
"They did mention a second woman," he said smoothly as he closed the door behind him. "I thought Miss Veron had brought a maid. Don't ladies usually have one or two in attendance?"
"Some do," the strange women murmured, turning just her head to look at him with clear, crystalline eyes. He was captured by them immediately. Her dress would be worth a fortune by itself, and he dared not try to price her gems. She was clearly a lady by the way she held her head. He had come to recognize the small movements that classified them over the years and it fascinated him. Her smile was positively engaging. "But I have never been fond of them myself. You are Abel Gardiner?"
"I am."
"Julia Bureun," she murmured, and stood with a confident grace.
"Pleasure," he said, interested in spite of himself. "Would you like some wine?"
"I may," she said. "What have you done with young Audrey, if I may ask?"
"She's with her prince," he replied, and had to suppress a grin. He tried to figure out what she was doing by taking in her glances and the small, subtle movements of her body, analyzing them. There was an attractive intelligence lurking behind her eyes and her smile was as manipulative as it was caressing. "You are a friend of his, yes?" he guessed, and was satisfied by the annoyance that flashed briefly in her eyes before she smoothed it over.
She tilted her head. "I have known him."
He smiled. He liked games. She looked like she might be an interesting player, and he had a little time to play. "Have you come to bargain for his life?"
Her eyebrows lose in surprise. "Would you be willing to sell it?"
He chuckled, amused. "As long as you realize it is mine to sell, I may be interested to sell it by the hour. He has a few free hours already. Miss Veron purchased them with tears."
He had meant to appall her, but she only lowered her eyelashes and continued to smile at him in that fascinating way. "Oh?" she said. "How many?"
"Maybe two," he replied.
"How about I raise it to six?" she said with a smile that flashed across her face.
He considered that. "And what would you pay with?"
"Well I'm not much of a crier," she said.
He chuckled. "You don't look to be."
"Is there something you wanted in particular?"
"How about he can have as many hours as you can keep me occupied?" he said half-jokingly, looking her up and down suggestively. She had a beautiful body and an equally exquisite face, but he was really only trying to scare her.
She hardly reacted at all, which piqued his interest further, as it was obviously designed to do. She smiled at him almost like he was a child idolizing her, but he saw through that too. "I don't think I care for him that much," she murmured. Her lips sparkled a shiny, wet pink as she approached him with a gentle glide, maneuvering around the bed deftly. "But I suppose we can discuss it."
"Are you really here for him?" he asked. He could hardly think so. He couldn't stop staring at her, wondering what he would do with a woman like her if he ever had one. Maybe this game could be played to his advantage.
She sidled up close to him and stepped into his space, her hands delicately touching his shoulders. He put a hand around her back and pulled her up flush against him, which seemed to startle her. She made a little noise as he pulled her off balance, liking the feel of her torso melded into his. Her dress looked, felt and smelled like cold under his eyes and hands. His fingers twitched around the buttons in the back.
In a flash she had regained her composure, smiling up at him through black lashes that arched gracefully over her eyes. She was truly a beautiful girl. Of course he realized she was playing him, but if so, he had never felt so lucky in a game. Besides, he could play too.
"What is it you want, lady?" he murmured
She tilted her head so that he could see the length of her neck, which he took full advantage of, captivated by the way her golden blonde curls reflected the light. "I want a powerful man who can please me," she said.
"Is that why you came here? What about your prince?"
"He's not my prince," she murmured. "And he's not my type."
"Well," he said. "I've always had a thing for ambitious, beautiful ladies. What do you want from me?"
"I already know you are powerful," she said, and spoke in such a low, seductive tone that he had to lean in to understand her. "But I think you will have to show me that you can please me."
He grinned and pushed one of her buttons open. When she didn't react, he started at the top and descended lower, opening her dress like a present, excited by the feel of a thin silk slip beneath her dress. Under that, he could clearly feel the heat of her skin.
"I think," he whispered in her ear. "You have bought the prince a little time."
For a brief instant she stiffened. It turned him on, guessing her trick, and didn't bother him at all. But then she chuckled throatily and he wondered abstractedly who was really playing whom in this game.