Title: Paraffin and Peonies 4/? (Okay, I think I can do this in 5… three wasn't enough. Damn me being too wordy!)
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.
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Disclaimer: Inspiration from many places, none of them mine, much to my lament.
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Trowa wandered back down the hall in a daze, he'd just kissed Quatre. He could die right there on the spot and die happy. He was so wrapped up in the haze he didn't hear the snickering from behind him at first.
"Soooooooooo, Mr. Barton you look like you've found a cloud with a silver lining. Did you kiss him at least goodnight?" Sally said oozing out of the shadows with a smirk on her face.
"That obvious?" Trowa said turning and leaning up against the wall to face her.
"It's written all over your face." Sally said with a chuckle, plopping herself down on the stairs.
"I feel like a fool Sally. I have never in my life been so… so… at a loss for lack of a better word." He said sitting down beside her.
"That's love for you handsome. It hits you blind side like a brick when you least expect it to. " She said grinning.
"I've heard that before, I never believed it. Until now that is. It was like the minute I saw him from my window, I just knew I had to be there for him. Stupid huh? To base everything on one five second view." Trowa said turning confused eyes to the woman beside him.
"Not stupid at all. Your heart will override your common sense every time. When everything around you seems normal and routine, love will come along and turn all of that into chaos in the blink of an eye. Making everything you value become meaningless and worth casting aside if just one more time you can hold the one you love." Sally said patting his hand.
"I think you may need him more than he needs you. How long have you been lonely Trowa?" Sally asked and Trowa gave her a weak smile.
"Always. It's not like my choices in life are commonplace. And where I came from, let's just say it would have never been tolerated, let alone condoned. It's one of the reasons I left. I knew I'd rather be lonely with at least some chance of happiness, than lonely with absolutely none. I never in a million years expected to find Quatre. I really didn't." Trowa said and Sally smiled and laid her arm across Trowa's shoulders.
"That's why it hit you so hard. You didn't expect it." She quipped like it was the cosmic answer to the meaning of the universe. And he was a fool not to have figured at least that much out.
"He loves you, and I don't think he's mistaking it for gratitude. I know you're worried about that." She added and Trowa wondered how she could read his mind so well.
"I have to be sure Sally. I'd hate for him to realize later on down the road he could have done better than I."
"Now, you're just selling yourself short Trowa Barton. That you get from your father, and I've known him since I was a little girl, so I know and I can tell. Both of you are far too ready to sacrifice your own happiness for someone you care about because you don't think you're good enough. Well guess what Barton; life will pass you by if you don't stop thinking poorly of yourself. Because until you accept the fact that someone CAN love you, you'll never be happy." Sally said brushing Trowa's hair out of his face.
"I know you may not want to hear this, but you realize your father has been all alone all this time? Not once did he believe he could love again and he shut himself away from the world. Don't turn into your father; it's okay to just be you. Trust me, you'll be loved just the way you are." She said kissing his cheek and rising. "You're hard not to love Trowa. You may wear a frown most of the time on that face, but I don't need my eyes to see how big your heart is, and that is a beautiful thing indeed. Now march your ass back to Quatre right now mister. I can guarantee he's going to need you tonight." Sally said and Trowa cocked an eyebrow.
"Come again?"
"He ate a lot of new foods today, think about it."
"Oh Christ, that's right. Thanks Sally, I forgot about that." Trowa said leaping to his feet and kissing her cheek.
"Anytime Trowa. I put fresh linens just outside his room in the closet. And there are plenty of towels just in case there's an accident along the way." She said and Trowa grimaced.
"I hope not. He'll be mortified if there is, I know I would be in his shoes."
"Precisely. You'll understand, and he'll need that." Sally said heading down the stairs. "Goodnight Trowa. See you in the morning." She said disappearing downstairs as Trowa did an about face and headed back to Quatre's room.
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Quatre heard his door open again and raised his head from the pillow. "Trowa?" He asked groggily.
"Aye, it me. Go back to sleep." Trowa said softly settling in a chair.
"Wha-what are you doing over there in the dark?" Quatre asked.
"Taking off my boots. I need to keep an eye on you tonight. I forgot you ate a lot of new food today Quatre. You might get sick during the night. I need to be here." Trowa said and Quatre heard his boots hit the floor.
"Bad sick?"
"Probably. You'll live though, it's not fatal, just rather annoying. Nothing to worry about, it may not even happen. I'm here just in case it does." Trowa said and Quatre felt the bed dip and a warm body dressed only in breeches lay down beside him.
If Quatre had been able to dance, he would have been waltzing across the room. He turned and couldn't help but reach out to pull him closer to hold. "I want to hold you, may I?" Quatre asked and He heard Trowa chuckle.
"I cannot deny you anything." Trowa said feeling slender arms wrap around his neck and a head move to use his chest as a pillow.
A contented sigh escaped Quatre's lips as he melted into the warmth that lay beside him.
"Your skin is soft." Quatre said rubbing his cheek lightly against firm muscles.
"Quatre…"
"Hm?"
"Go to sleep. You'll drive me mad if you don't. It's bad enough just having you this close. It is taking every ounce of will power I have just to lay with you and not do more. Please don't tempt me." Trowa groaned and he heard stifled laughter.
"Quatre…"
"I'm sorry. I'll behave."
"You'd better."
"Is that a threat?"
"Yes."
"What will you do to me if I'm naughty?"
"QUATRE!"
"Sorry."
"No you're not."
"Goodnight Trowa."
"Goodnight Wolf in sheep's clothing. You don't fool me Quatre. You're the devil in disguise."
"Do I get punished now?"
"That's it, I'm sleeping in the chair."
"Why aren't you getting up then?"
"Damn it, you're a test. I'll win this battle yet. Go to sleep Quatre."
"I'm not tired anymore. But I will cease teasing you." Quatre said moving up to kiss Trowa's cheek. "I do love you. Thank you so much for coming here, I've never been happier."
Trowa rolled onto his side and wrapped arms around Quatre and settled deeper into the mattress, kissing Quatre's forehead lovingly. "I love you too. I've never been happier either." Trowa said and Quatre melted into his arms and soon both drifted to sleep.
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Morning broke gray and foreboding and rain pattered and pelted against the windowpane but Quatre thankfully was at last back asleep. They'd been awakened around three am, when the cramps hit Quatre and it was a mad dash to the garterobe. True to Trowa's prediction, Quatre had been mortified. It took several hours and several more visits to the privy for Quatre to realize Trowa wasn't sickened and didn't love Quatre any less from an upset digestive system. Nor by the fact Trowa was the one who had to carry him to and from the privy and help with the more distasteful aspects of the aftermath.
Sally had brought up some bicarbonate of soda and it had seemed to assuage the symptoms and Quatre had finally been able to go back to sleep. Trowa however was still too alert and listening for any signs of distress to find repose himself, so he disengaged himself from Quatre, planting a tender kiss to a bare shoulder before tucking him in and going over to Quatre's book case.
To say Quatre had diverse tastes was an understatement, and Trowa was thoroughly pleased. It appeared they did share at least this in common. Quatre had books ranging from science textbooks to beautiful art books, to poetry, to… well, well, well, torrid romance novels tucked under rhetoric and prose. Trowa chuckled and tucked the illicit copy, which was well worn, back into it's hiding place. And continued his exploration of Quatre's room.
It was in the next bookcase Trowa lost his breath, and just stood in awe. Upon every shelf lay a figurine of sorts made from paraffin. All a riot of motley hues as if Quatre had taken the drippings from his candles in order to sculpt them. And there were no tool lines, each figure was obviously pressed together using nothing but delicate warm fingers. The heat from Quatre's hands softening the wax to mold, and upon closer inspection, Trowa picked out each household servant the figurine represented.
There was Duo with his braid looking like it was blowing in the wind, beside him was Hilde making an adorable matched set. Then there was Sally and Wufei, looking like they were arguing with one another; it was a perfect capture of personality. Next came Heero and Catherine, a mismatched set that worked oh so well together. Catherine's vivaciousness, and Heero's silent brooding, together they stood hand in hand overlooking something only the sculptor could see in his imagination as he created the figurines.
Next came almost a full sized bust, replete with glorious detail. This was of his father, and the sadness in his features made Trowa want to weep it looked so real.
"That one is my favorite. I tried to capture his sorrow in hopes I could keep it locked away in here with me. It didn't work, but I tried." Came Quatre's soft tenor and Trowa turned carrying the bust over to the artist.
"Thank you for trying Quatre. But I'm afraid it will take more than wishes. This is beautiful, it looks exactly like him." Trowa said setting the bust down on the nightstand reverently.
"I always wondered what he would have looked like younger. Now I know." Quatre said tracing the curve of Trowa's cheekbone with his finger. "It is amazing how much you look like your father. All the same except the color of your eyes. You have such wonderful eyes." Quatre said with a sigh.
"My mother had green eyes." Trowa said laying a kiss to Quatre's palm then clutching his hand in his lap.
"I never knew my mother, she died giving birth to me." Quatre said and Trowa sighed.
"Mine too. That is why my father looks so sad. He wasn't allowed to marry my mother, and was sent away before she could have me. He lost us both; I am a part of that sorrow he bears. He was a part of mine. When I got word he had been traced here, I left home to find him. I found much more than I bargained for." Trowa said smiling down at the young man who lay before him.
His hair a wild mop of sunshine, splayed haphazardly across the pillows, his pink skin still flushed from the day before, his lips full and inviting, with eyes like the wide open skies, deep, caring, and searching.
Trowa fell in love all over again just looking at him. "So much more." He said leaning over to lay a gentle kiss upon perfect lips.
Quatre sighed and smiled as Trowa sat up and moved to return the bust to its shelf. "May I sculpt you? Would you mind?" Quatre asked and Trowa returned to his side and stretched out beside him.
"I'd be honored." Trowa said as they just lay there in blissful silence; listening to the rain make it's music as it fell upon the tiles of the roof and windowsill. The prevailing peace allowing both young men to drift off once more for just a little while longer. It was still quite early in the morning, and no one else in the household had even stirred from slumber yet.
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The rain lasted well into the day, so most of Quatre's day consisted of walks around the Parlor with Trowa and Heero's help. He even took one step all on his own which was quite a breakthrough and testament to Quatre's will and desire to succeed.
Trowa convinced him to show the others his wax sculptures and Quatre shyly agreed. Everyone sat looking at his or her effigies in bewilderment. They were simply astounded Quatre had made them with nothing more than candle wax and his own two hands.
When Quatre gifted them to his new friends as a thank you, there was hardly a dry eye in the house as Quatre received more hugs and kisses in one afternoon, than he had in his entire previous eighteen years.
All in all, despite the dreary day outside, the sun was shining brightly within Hardwicke Hall. Something that had not happened since the Lady Winner had passed away. She was alive an well in her son, and it seemed the house itself was celebrating the return of laughter to it's halls.
Over afternoon tea, Quatre sat at a chessboard with Trowa and Trowa was losing miserably to him. Quatre had a strategic mind like a steel trap, and Trowa fell for his bait every single time.
It was annoying, it was highly stimulating, and he was certain the little shit was cheating. Somehow.
And he still had not figured out Quatre's secret by the time Sally sauntered in and announced that playtime was over, it was dinnertime, saved by the bellow. Trowa mused as he packed up the board and helped Quatre into the dining room.
Quatre's meals throughout the day had been made with care and concern to his system and while bland to everyone else's tastes, Quatre was still in euphoric bliss. More oatmeal for breakfast, some vegetable broth and bread for lunch, and just a bit of cod grilled with lemon for dinner. All mild and harmless for his system, and all wonders to his virgin taste buds.
Not long after dinner, Quatre bid the others goodnight and retired to his bedroom with Trowa.
He wasn't sleepy, and neither was Trowa as they settled in for a quiet evening. Trowa stoked the fire in Quatre's fireplace, and set Quatre up at his table, where brilliant hands went to work on the clay Trowa had dug up from the back garden. If Quatre was good with wax, he was positive with real clay Quatre could create a miracle.
As Quatre worked, Trowa reclined in the chair by the fire with that book Quatre thought he'd had hidden. Halfway through the first chapter Trowa was almost drooling. "Jesus Christ Quatre. Where the hell did you get this book?" Trowa asked and Quatre laughed.
"Good isn't it?"
"Tawdry"
"Like I said, Good isn't it?"
"I'll say. Oh my God. Okay, this goes back on the shelf awhile. I don't need anymore ideas thank you very much." Trowa said replacing the book on the shelf and digging out a textbook on chemistry. He needed something boring and mindless to derail his overheated thoughts.
He moved to the low settee and reclined. One arm bent behind his head, the other propping the book up on his chest while he read.
"Trowa?"
"Hm?"
"Will you take your shirt off? I want to make sure I get the proportions right." Quatre asked and Trowa smiled and sat up long enough to divest himself of his shirt before leaning back down with his book.
About a half hour later Trowa felt his curiosity piqued and set the book down to go take a look at what Quatre was working on.
Trowa's eyes grew wide as he realized Quatre was sculpting him in the nude.
Last he checked he was still wearing his breeches. "Um, Quatre?"
"Yes?" Quatre asked not looking up from his work. His tongue poking out the corner of his mouth while he concentrated on his task.
"Why am I naked?" Trowa asked and Quatre laughed.
"Cause I haven't formed your legs yet, they're just sort of stuck there for now. I'm still working on your torso. Why? Do you want me to make a 'David' version of you?" Quatre asked looking up with almost a smirk on his face.
Trowa coughed. "Sorry I asked."
"I'm not. I wouldn't mind. That is if you don't."
"I don't know... I've never been turned into a piece of art before."
"You already are a work of art, I'm just replicating a God created masterpiece I like looking at." Quatre said and Trowa melted. Right there, just like the clay in Quatre's hands, he was molded and shaped and found there was absolutely nothing he wouldn't do for Quatre.
It took all of two steps for Trowa to fall to his needs and clutch Quatre to him as he wept. Sally had been right; perhaps he had needed Quatre more than Quatre needed him. He'd waited his whole life for someone to make him feel the way Quatre made him feel.
Like he was special, like he was needed, like he was loved.
Trowa clung to him tightly, burying his face in Quatre's lap where he purged all his past sorrow away in grateful tears of joy. Quatre all the while silent and smiling down upon him. His slender fingers combing Trowa's hair lightly and tracing patterns along Trowa's shoulders where they shuddered against his knees.
"I love you Quatre." Trowa sobbed and Quatre leaned over and brushed a kiss to Trowa's temple.
"I love you too." He whispered before Trowa sat up to wipe his eyes.
Trowa smiled then stood. And Quatre stared wide-eyed and jaw agape as Trowa unfastened his breeches and let them slide down his long legs and to the floor. He stood in all is unabashed glory for Quatre to see before sauntering back to his seat by the fire and stretching out languidly.
"If you show the girls this sculpture, I'll murder you." Trowa said picking up his book once more.
Quatre feverishly went back to work, fighting off drool and praying he'd finish before Trowa came to his senses and changed his mind.
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tbc…
