Title: Paraffin and Peonies 2/? (I'm planning 3; let's see if I can stick to it.)

Major pairing: 3x4

Author: The Fablespinner ~*D*~

E-mail: fablespinner@hotmail.com

Rating: R

Genre: AU: Late 18th Century England Romance

Archive: http://fablespinner.steelsong.com/fanfiction/fanfiction.html

Author's Note: Loosely based on the Novel "The Secret Garden" Several Major Changes to story line will take place. Only similar elements will appear from the Original story.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Disclaimer: Inspiration from many places, none of them mine, much to my lament.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I don't want it." Quatre said pushing the tray of gruel away in distaste.

"But my lordship, the doctors say you need it for strength. I am only thinking of your welfare. You are like a son to me." Mrs. Tatlock said, the tone of her voice patronizing. Quatre wasn't falling for it.

"Would you keep your son prisoner like this and force the same slop down his throat every single day? Would you let doctors hurt him for no apparent reason? I may be an invalid, but I am not stupid. Just let me be sick and leave me alone, I'm tired. No one would really care if I died anyway." Quatre said fighting tears of pain and betrayal from spilling from his eyes.

"Don't say that…"

"Yes, I'll say it. I have never seen my own father, and I know he's been here I can hear him yell and shout when he is in attendance. You only come in to shut me away from the world and feed me so my father doesn't sack you. You care less about my welfare; all you care about is your tenure here. And don't think to protest; I've heard you talk to the doctors. 'Just do whatever you wish to the boy so long as he's kept alive. I'll not lose my job over a sickly burden' or did I hear you wrong?" Quatre said and Tatlock scooped up his bowl in a fury.

"You are an ungrateful, spoiled child. You should thank me for all the years I've spent caring for you."

"I'd use a different word than CARE for me. You don't care, you rule and demand, and let them hurt me, repeatedly."

"They only are keeping you alive."

"Then why do I feel worse for days after the doctors come? I don't want it anymore. I refuse to let them see me any longer." Quatre said folding his arms across his chest where he lay in bed.

"You'll do as you're told. And just because you feel the need to be spiteful young man, you will stay in that bed." Mrs. Tatlock said rolling his wheelchair to the far side of the room and out of reach.

"Bring that back! I can't move without it!" Quatre sobbed horrified.

"You'll learn obedience. Until you do, that chair stays over there. I must away on business for your father. Perhaps by the time I return, you will be of a better disposition!" Tatlock said taking his breakfast and slamming and locking the door behind her.

Hungry, and crestfallen, Quatre turned and sobbed into his pillow, if only he knew how to walk, he'd walk far away from this place, and never look back. Anything was better than this isolation he had to endure day in and day out.

His only joy was peering out his window to watch the servants go about their lives, pretending he was one of them, laughing and singing right along with them.

He had his favorites too. There was the long haired groomsman named Duo who was constantly pulling practical jokes on his fellows Heero and Wufei, they in turn finding ways to pay him back for his mischievous nature in very creative ways.

There were the young kitchen maids, Hilde, Sally, and Catherine who continually scolded the trio whilst chattering away under his window sweet nothings about them when they were absent. Young love, it touched him greatly. And he would strain to hear the talk of midnight trysts, and dream it was him out in the garden in the arms of a lover.

Only he would have much preferred Heero or Duo than one of the girls. He thought boys much nicer to look at, and often had dreams of a tall young man sweeping him away in the night.

He had read one too many romance novels. It was all he had, but at least his dreams were interesting.

Then there was the man nicknamed 'Gloomy Bloomy', Nathanial Bloom, the groundskeeper. Quatre really liked him, he was quiet most of the time, and looked just as sad as Quatre did. Quatre just knew the man had lost something dear to him, and Quatre's heart ached for the man who silently toiled and made beautiful roses bloom in a barren land. He could only just see the roses from his window, and he lived for late spring when they started to bloom.  Quatre often pondered about the people under his window, and just what made them sad or happy.

Sadness he knew, he'd never been happy in his life. Just once before he did die, he'd love to know just what being happy felt like.

He sniffled and wiped his tears away with his sleeve. He needed to look outside; he desperately wanted to lose himself in watching the servants. He could forget his sorrow watching them, but he had no way to the window.

He set his jaw and with his arms he began to drag himself across his bed, and with a heavy thud and grunt, he fell to the floor.

"Ouch, maybe this wasn't such a bright idea." Quatre grumbled as his shoulder began to throb where he landed. But being stubborn, he shook off his dower mood and the pain and began to pull himself across the floor towards the window.

Exhausted by the time he reached it, he tried to pull himself up, only to realize too little, too late, that even though he was at the window, without his chair to hold him up, he could not see over the ledge, nor lift himself by his arms high enough to see.

Devastated Quatre fell with his face to the floor and wept. If only he could walk, he'd run from this house of hell as fast as his feet could carry him.

If he was as sickly as they all said he was he prayed for death, any release would be welcome from the nightmare of his lonely existence.

~*~*~*~*~*

Trowa was helping his father tend the rosebushes near the front entrance, as Tatlock swept out of the front doors in a huff muttering something about willful children. She then turned to Nathanial. "I have word of urgent business in Manchester I must attend to on his Lordship's behalf. I'll be gone a fortnight. See to it that the young master is fed Nathanial, and you do it. None of the other staff are allowed in there as well you know. And do not make his meal yourself. I have instructed Hilde on the proper way to prepare his food. He eats at 8am, noon, and 5pm sharp. Do not deviate from his schedule. Take in his tray; make him eat it if you must, then leave. Do not talk to him, do not coddle him, and for God's sake do not bring in dirt and where the mask I have hanging by the door. Is that clear?" Tatlock said and Nathanial nodded.

"Unusual for the Master to call you away." Nathanial said and Tatlock nodded.

"He's taken ill and needs me as witness to his will. Do not tell the boy his father is dying. And also when the doctor's come on Thursday, be sure the boy does as told." She added in a hurry before rushing to the coach.

"The Master is dying? Oh dear." Nathanial said as Tatlock drove off. "That cannot be good news. I am afraid Tatlock will talk him out of leaving Quatre his lands which are his birthright." Nathanial said with a grumble. "Trowa, you take care of the young master. I am going to Manchester to halt that woman in her tracks. I fear her viperous tongue." Nathanial said whistling at Wufei to halt the carriage. "You wait there, I'm going with you." Nathanial said climbing into the carriage.

"You will not! What about the boy?" Tatlock said in a rage.

"Master Quatre will be looked after, I do not trust you shrew. Drive on Wufei!" Nathanial said banging on the roof. With a wicked smile Wufei snapped the reigns and the carriage sped off. The voices of arguing fading into the distance and the coach disappeared on the horizon.

Trowa turned to find Hilde in the doorway smiling. "You're a good luck charm Trowa. Can I please make Quatre something nicer to eat than that horrible porridge? I saw he didn't eat any of it this morning, and he must be starving." She said her eyes pleading. Trowa smiled.

"Yes, but nothing too heavy. If he's not used to rich foods, they WILL make him ill. How about oatmeal with cinnamon and brown sugar? That should sit well with him." Trowa said Hilde cheered.

"Hooray! I'll go make it right now!" She said spinning on her heels in a rush of skirts as she bounded to the kitchen.

Trowa smiled and followed her into the kitchen, going to the sink to wash his hands. Soon a piping hot bowlful of oatmeal was set on a tray, the scent of sugar and cinnamon permeating the air. It smelled divine and Trowa grasped he tray and marched forward to the east wing quickly. He was so excited about seeing the boy up close, he didn't notice the sounds of crying until he was about to knock on the door.

Trowa frowned and rapt softly on the door, "Your lordship, may I come in?" Trowa asked softly and a small voice answered.

"No. Mrs. Tatlock will fire you." The shy voice said, dripping with sadness and regret.

Trowa smiled and opened the door. "Mrs. Tatlock is gone for a fortnight. My name is Trowa, and I'll be taking care of you while she's away." He said setting the tray on the table then looking at… an empty bed.

"Over here." Came the small voice and Trowa spun around.

"What are you doing there?" Trowa asked hurrying to his side.

"Trying to see out my window. Mrs. Turlock is punishing me for not eating. She put my chair over there." Quatre said pointing. Trowa was livid.

"She expected you to lie in bed for two weeks? Is she daft?" Trowa grumbled scooping Quatre up without thinking twice about it and carrying him over to his chair.

Quatre was seeing stars, not only was a perfect stranger in his bedroom, but a gorgeous stranger, and he was carrying him!!!! Quatre had died and gone to heaven, no ifs ands or buts.

Trowa felt slight arms tighten their hold around his neck and soft hair tickle his chin as Quatre sighed dreamily and laid his head on Trowa's shoulder.

He was now very reluctant to set the beautiful young man down, but did anyway, receiving a sad sigh when his hold was broken. Trowa had to smile, Quatre had absolutely no idea how he was affecting him.

"Thank you Trowa. Are you sure you won't get in any trouble?" Quatre asked looking up into green eyes that wanted to make him melt in place.

"I'm sure. Hilde made you breakfast. Are you hungry?" Trowa asked and that stubborn pout almost made him want to burst out laughing.

"If it's the same stuff, no. I hate it." Quatre grumbled and Trowa did laugh now.

"That's what Hilde suspected. I had her make you some oatmeal instead." Trowa said and Quatre looked up with a start.

"What's oatmeal?"

"You'll have to try it to see if you like it." Trowa said going to push the chair towards the table. Quatre's hands seized the wheels.

"I can do it. Please let me, Tatlock thinks I'm a baby and I cannot do anything for myself." Quatre said and Trowa stepped back. Liking the fact Quatre was rather assertive, as any NORMAL, HEALTHY young man would be in a situation like this. Trowa knew he'd not want to be coddled like an infant had the circumstances been reversed. So he would not coddle Quatre. Quatre smiled in gratitude and wheeled himself over to the table.

"Oh my goodness, it smells WONDERFUL!" Quatre gasped diving for the spoon. Trowa chuckled pulling up a chair beside his new charge.

"Well eat up before it gets cold. It's nasty cold." Trowa said and Quatre took a tentative first taste. Licking perfectly shaped pink lips, and closing his eyes in ecstasy. Trowa wanted to groan, that look on his face was just irresistible, not to mention causing Trowa to have powerfully sinful thoughts.

"Oh Trowa! Thank you!" Quatre said, with a sudden burst of tears in his eyes. Trowa said bolt upright. It was just oatmeal… how much had Quatre been deprived if oatmeal made him cry?

"You're welcome Quatre. And please don't cry, just eat." Trowa said wiping tears away with his fingertips.

Quatre sighed, and leaned into the touch briefly before succumbing to hunger and devouring nearly all of his meal. Forcing down the last few bites, eating for taste alone at that point.

"Don't force it Quatre, you'll make yourself sick to the stomach. Hilde packed it with spices and you're not used to it. Besides you want to save room for lunch later." Trowa said taking the nearly empty bowl and setting it back on the tray.

"Tell Hilde I loved it, please?" Quatre said and Trowa smiled.

"Would you like to tell her that?" Trowa asked and Quatre's eyes went wide.

"You mean She can come see me too?"

"No, I meant I take you downstairs for you to tell her." Trowa said and Quatre sputtered.

"I get to leave my room? Won't the spores get me?" Quatre asked and Trowa laughed.

"Quatre the only people in this house who think you are ill are Mrs. Tatlock, and your father. My father told me all about you this morning, and I believe he's right, there's nothing wrong with you that a little fresh air and company won't cure." Trowa said reaching up to ruffle golden locks.

The delighted squeal and sudden attack of arms wrapping around his waist assured Trowa he was doing the right thing after all. He had to reluctantly pry Quatre loose as he moved to his wardrobe.

Which was bare of anything even remotely resembling proper attire, it was one nightshirt after another.

"Damn. I need to go find some clothes for you Quatre. Duo's a bit taller than you, but he's the closest to your size. I'll be back." Trowa said and Quatre looked half scared, half hopeful.

"You'll promise to come back?" Quatre asked, fear in his voice. Trowa's heart broke.

"I promise Quatre." He said leaning down to hug slender shoulders. Quatre's arms holding back unabashedly, having never learned it was "wrong" for men to hug one another. And Quatre was so starved for affection; Trowa would defy God if he had to in order to comfort Quatre. Be it with a tender hug, a simple meal, or whatever Quatre desired.

Trowa was going to see Quatre got it, that smile alone on Quatre's face worth hell and damnation to achieve.

Quatre had been beautiful in sorrow; he was positively radiant when filled with joy. So Trowa hurried to find clothes from Duo to dress Quatre for his first day out of his room in eighteen years.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Everyone was waiting in the kitchen for Trowa. Duo having pulled out his Sunday best without blinking an eye to give Trowa when he was told they were for Quatre. Everyone was just dying to meet him so they all gathered to wait on pins and needles. Only Duo followed Trowa up to help get Quatre downstairs.

Trowa would carry Quatre and Duo would lug the chair down with them so at least Quatre would be mobile once he was down on the main floor.

Quatre looked quite handsome in Duo's blue breeches and loose white shirt. Trowa having to bite his lip and think horrible thoughts to contain his infuriating lust while dressing his secret crush. It would not do and Trowa was highly annoyed with himself for even thinking such sinful things about Quatre. Trowa vowed to himself he would never cross the line, no matter how much he was falling in love with Quatre, he would never break his trust by taking it too far.

Quatre needed comfort; he did not need some letch drooling all over him. And right now, Trowa's thoughts were lecherous indeed as he slid sky-blue breeches over slender hips. He did note however; there was absolutely nothing viably wrong with Quatre's legs. In fact they were perfect. Perhaps Hilde was right and the wheelchair was simply due to the fact Quatre had never learned HOW to walk. Not that he couldn't, he just didn't know how to start. The muscles were a bit small, but simply from lack of use, it didn't take very long to build up muscles, Quatre's walking lessons would begin today too if Trowa had any say in the matter.

And technically he did, he had been left in charge of Quatre's care taking after all. He smirked as he picked up Quatre.

"Ready to make your debut Quatre?" He asked as Quatre's arms wrapped around his neck.

"More than ready. Thank you so much Trowa." Quatre said bestowing a huge smile upon him before grateful lips pressed against his cheek.

It was going to be eternally difficult to keep himself in check if Quatre continued that behavior much longer.

But Trowa was not about to complain in the slightest.

"You look like your father." Quatre said switching gears. Trowa sighed with relief.

"So I've been told." Trowa said smiling back at the boy in his arms as they headed out the door. Duo was already at the bottom of the stairs with the chair waiting for them to descend.

"I can't tell ya, how glad we are to see you master Quatre." Duo said grinning at the boy as Trowa set him in his chair.

"Not as glad as I am." Quatre said smiling up at Duo. "Nice to see you got the manure out of your hair." He added and Duo sputtered.

"How did you know about that?" Duo asked and Quatre sparkled as he laughed.

"I heard Heero and Wufei planning it after you put pudding in their pillows." Quatre said and Duo cackled.

"What other secrets do you know hummmmm?" Duo asked as they headed for the kitchen. Quatre allowing Trowa to push him the distance so he wouldn't tire.

"You don't want to know." Quatre said, an evil little smirk forming on his lips.

"Aw man, you're wicked. I LOVE IT! I just knew you weren't like they said all sickly and everything. And not dumb either, Bitchlock, I swear if she dares lock you up again after this, I'm gonna slap her silly. It's stupid." Duo said as they crossed the main hall toward the kitchen.

"I hope not either." Quatre sighed looking up at Trowa.

"We'll do all we can Quatre to keep you out in the open, I promise." Trowa said, and meant every word he spoke. He'd move heaven and earth to keep Quatre happy, nothing was as beautiful to behold than that smiling visage.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

tbc…