Creature of the Wood
Chapter 8
-----------------------------
Heero sat, curled up in the chair still. his arms were wrapped tightly around his legs... legs which still confused the hell out of him, since they were covered in fur and no longer ended in feet. For the past half hour, he'd been listening to Duo explain about himself, and about what Heero was. He wasn't too surprised to learn that Trowa, Quatre and Wufei were also Fae... but he still shuddered when Duo explained Miss Une.
"So she was Fae once too?"
Duo nodded, folding his legs underneath himself. "At one point, apparently. What you just went through is called 'awakening'. Sometimes it's good, and there's a minimal amount of shock, like with you. Sometimes, though... it's a lot worse. It can happen so suddenly and with no support whatsoever, and it can literally shatter a person's mind." He rested his chin against his knees, looking down towards the blanket that he was twisting with one hand. "I wish I could have helped her... but I don't think it would have done much good."
"You mean you actually would have HELPED her?" Heero was amazed. The woman had hurt Duo badly, yet he still felt guilty about what had happened to her. That was another thing he was relatively confused about as well. "Let me get this right... I SAW Trowa literally rip her throat out. But she's alive?"
"Yes." The quiet reply came before Duo had even parted his lips to speak, and the two turned to look towards the door. Trowa stood there, leaning against the frame. The skin beneath his eyes was reddened faintly, and the rims of his eyes were swollen with recently shed tears. Neither of the boys could recall ever seeing Trowa cry about anything... and while Heero hadn't known him that long, Duo *had*.
"Trowa... come sit with us?" Duo said softly, moving to the side so that there was room for the taller boy to sit on the bed. As Trowa came over, Duo fought back the urge to hug him... or comfort him. Anything to take away the haunted look in the pooka's eyes. Trowa curled up as soon as he was seated, bringing his knees against his chest and looking to the other two.
The first thing he'd noticed was that they were both in their Fae seemings. This was a good thing at least... it meant that Duo had succeeded and managed to bring Heero out of his personal prison. It also meant that he didn't have to keep up his own facade, since he was having a hard enough time dealing with his own guilt, let alone having to worry about kepeing up appearances. Half closing his eyes, he let his mortal half fade into the background, the half-feline form he was most accustomed to, coming to the fore to take its place.
Heero sucked in a breath, watching with widened eyes as Trowa's skin seemed to darken and take on a velvet sheen of fur. His hair grew more ragged, falling over his shoulders and coming down to a point in the center of his chest where the two halves converged. His fingernails elongated, curving into the wickedly sharp claws he'd seen on the steps earlier, and a whiplike tail with a tuft of dark fur at the tip now lay on the bed behind him, tapping idly against the blanket. He was so intent on watching the change, he began to flush crimson when he realized that Trowa was staring right back at him with those crystalline emerald eyes. The slitted pupils gave him a more feral look, in addition to everything else.
"I'm sorry if I startled you earlier..." Trowa began, extending one hand. "I lose track of myself when I get that angry, and I had forgotten you were there."
"I-it's alright." Heero replied, taking his hand. "I think I'm still getting used to all this... I didn't mean to stare." That was basically it... but watching Trowa shift had fascinated him to no end. It had been the same with Duo, really. Heero had asked him to change his forms once or twice so that he could see it happening, however neither of them had quite figured out how to get Heero back into his human form yet. Duo was under the assumption that it would happen on its own in time, and for the moment it was the best they had. He blinked, feeling the trembling fingers of the Pooka against the skin of his palm. Duo was right... Trowa was going to be having problems from this.
After the contact was broken, Trowa seemed to curl in on himself once more, chin resting against his knees. Duo glanced back and forth between his two friends, then slowly brought one hand to Trowa's shoulder. "Trowa, please... don't bottle this up inside or it'll make it even worse. You did what you had to--..."
"NO! I did what I WANTED to!" Trowa lifted his gaze, glaring at Duo, his voice a feral snarl. "I had no right to do what I did... I should have tried to help, it's what we're supposed to do! Instead, all I could think about was hurting her the way she'd hurt you."
"If you'd tried to help, you both would have wound up dead." Duo and Trowa looked up towards Heero, who had leaned back in the chair and was now just watching them intently. "She said that much, I heard it. People had tried to help her before and she wound up either killing them outright or doing to them what you did to her."
"Heero's right." Duo turned back to Trowa, who's eyes were becoming damp once more with tears. "She would have killed you. She already had left me for dead."
Trowa shook his head, bringing his hands to the temples at each side of his eyes. "I killed her, Duo... with my bare hands, I killed her. She was Fae too, just like us--"
"Not like us. Not at ALL like us! She tried to stop us from helping Heero, she tried to kill me, and she would have done the same to you! You did what you had to, nothing more." Duo looked up at Heero then, eyes searching for any help that the satyr could give him. There was nothing there... neither of them could think of a way to try and make this better. As Trowa curled forward, Duo just pulled him against his own chest, cradling him as his friend's body shook with the tears that were falling once more.
* * *
Moonlight fell around him, sparkling on the dew-dampened grass and making the entire landscape seem as though it were out of a fairytale. Trowa hardly saw it however, as he shoved his hands farthur into his pockets and hunched his shoulders against the autumn wind. He had spent hours with Duo and Heero, trying to justify his actions to himself. He didn't have to worry about those two... they were the ones trying to convince him that what he did was right.
They didn't have the blood on their hands... they didn't have to face Miss Une every day, knowing what it felt like for their fingers to tear through her flesh... they didn't have to look at the dead shallowness of her eyes and know that it was their hand that had caused it. He wanted to scream, or curse, or tear something apart... anything that would make this pain go away. She had been Fae, that much was certain. Duo and Heero were right, she would have killed him if he'd tried to assist her in any way... but he should have at least tried, shouldn't he? The part that worried him the most was that while he felt guilty over what he had done... he couldn't deny the smile that came to his face when he remembered the stark terror in her eyes.
* * *
"M'lord." Came the respectful acknowledgement of the guard outside of the main hall of the Freehold. Trieze nodded politely, smiling as he moved past the doors and down the corridor to his own quarters. His. The thought gave him pause to smile, realizing that everything here was now HIS to control. The people had no problem accepthing him once Davin's association with the Dauntain had been proven. The former Lord of the Hold was now confined to the west wing, accompanied by his wife, who had begged to be allowed to stay near him. Trieze had to admire her loyalty to her husband. Even in the face of such dishonour, the Lady Anne had chosen to try and help her husband heal, and to bring back the gentle Sidhe Lord she had devoted her life to so long ago. He couldn't fault her that in the slightest. It gave him hope that the people wouldn't completely turn their backs on the man who had led the Hold through prosperity for so long. Granted, this was definately cause for Exile... however if that happened, then the chances were that Davin would only slip further into the madness and banality brought on by the Dauntain, and perhaps would become one himself. No, it was much better for all concerned if he were kept here and given the chance to heal.
Trieze's footsteps clicked against the marble floor softly, the sound becoming an almost soothing background noise as he made his way down the hall. His gaze flicked towards a closed set of ornate double doors and he couldn't deny the slight pang in his chest. Relena's quarters. She had made good her escape that night and had gotten Quatre and Zechs away from the Hold before anything happened. Noin had gone with them as well, and had personally taken on responsibility for their safety. Now, Zechs was back and recovering from his illness. There were those who stated that it was the proximity of the Dauntain's influence that had ailed him, and it was hard to dispute. Ever since Davin had been moved, Zechs' recovery had been remarkable. Soon, he would be able to rejoin the day to day activities of the Hold, and Trieze was half expecting the people to request that Zechs assume control as Lord. That was another thought that made him smile. The people didn't blame the entire family for the weakness of the father. Relena and Zechs were still just as loved as they had been before, and there were numerous requests over the young Lordling's health on a daily basis.
Relena had returned with Zechs as well, but had left almost immediately afterward. Quatre was nearly desperate to return to the school with his friends and refused to take no for an answer, regardless of the fact that he truly wasn't healed enough to travel at all. He would have bolted on his own, had Relena not gone to check on him late one night and found him ready to disappear out the window. She offered to go with him, to see him back to the others safely, and seemed to have a slight inclination as to what caused the younger boy to be so frantic. Word had arrived about the confrontation with the Dauntain at the school, and the fact that it was no longer a worry to the Hold, or anyone else. If Quatre was half as perceptive as Relena seemed to think, then it was no wonder he was loathe to remain here. However... Trieze couldn't be blamed if he sorely missed the presence of the one person he had longed to see during all his years of exile.
Stepping into his rooms, he shrugged off the overcoat he had worn for the night's meal. The room was dark still, with only a few candles breathing their illumination into the air. It wasn't until he had dropped the coat onto a chair and made his way towards the closet that realization hit, causing him to reach to his side for his weapon. There had been no guards outside the door to his chamber. There were always two posted there, just in case someone who was disgruntled about the change of command decided to get even. One hand was on the hilt of his sword as he began to turn, but it was already too late. He felt the sudden edge of a swordtip against his throat, his eyes shifting to the side and gazing down the length of the curved blade. One gloved hand was wrapped around the hilt of the scimitar, the slender fingers twining through a tasselled cord that hung from the pommel. Pale, loose fabric swathed the figure from shoulder to wrist, and there was another length of what could be a scarf wrapped loosely over nose and mouth. The same scarf draped lightly over flame red hair, a few locks escaping free to brush over deep green eyes which now glared at him in unbridled anger.
"Where is my brother..."
* * *
TBC
Chapter 8
-----------------------------
Heero sat, curled up in the chair still. his arms were wrapped tightly around his legs... legs which still confused the hell out of him, since they were covered in fur and no longer ended in feet. For the past half hour, he'd been listening to Duo explain about himself, and about what Heero was. He wasn't too surprised to learn that Trowa, Quatre and Wufei were also Fae... but he still shuddered when Duo explained Miss Une.
"So she was Fae once too?"
Duo nodded, folding his legs underneath himself. "At one point, apparently. What you just went through is called 'awakening'. Sometimes it's good, and there's a minimal amount of shock, like with you. Sometimes, though... it's a lot worse. It can happen so suddenly and with no support whatsoever, and it can literally shatter a person's mind." He rested his chin against his knees, looking down towards the blanket that he was twisting with one hand. "I wish I could have helped her... but I don't think it would have done much good."
"You mean you actually would have HELPED her?" Heero was amazed. The woman had hurt Duo badly, yet he still felt guilty about what had happened to her. That was another thing he was relatively confused about as well. "Let me get this right... I SAW Trowa literally rip her throat out. But she's alive?"
"Yes." The quiet reply came before Duo had even parted his lips to speak, and the two turned to look towards the door. Trowa stood there, leaning against the frame. The skin beneath his eyes was reddened faintly, and the rims of his eyes were swollen with recently shed tears. Neither of the boys could recall ever seeing Trowa cry about anything... and while Heero hadn't known him that long, Duo *had*.
"Trowa... come sit with us?" Duo said softly, moving to the side so that there was room for the taller boy to sit on the bed. As Trowa came over, Duo fought back the urge to hug him... or comfort him. Anything to take away the haunted look in the pooka's eyes. Trowa curled up as soon as he was seated, bringing his knees against his chest and looking to the other two.
The first thing he'd noticed was that they were both in their Fae seemings. This was a good thing at least... it meant that Duo had succeeded and managed to bring Heero out of his personal prison. It also meant that he didn't have to keep up his own facade, since he was having a hard enough time dealing with his own guilt, let alone having to worry about kepeing up appearances. Half closing his eyes, he let his mortal half fade into the background, the half-feline form he was most accustomed to, coming to the fore to take its place.
Heero sucked in a breath, watching with widened eyes as Trowa's skin seemed to darken and take on a velvet sheen of fur. His hair grew more ragged, falling over his shoulders and coming down to a point in the center of his chest where the two halves converged. His fingernails elongated, curving into the wickedly sharp claws he'd seen on the steps earlier, and a whiplike tail with a tuft of dark fur at the tip now lay on the bed behind him, tapping idly against the blanket. He was so intent on watching the change, he began to flush crimson when he realized that Trowa was staring right back at him with those crystalline emerald eyes. The slitted pupils gave him a more feral look, in addition to everything else.
"I'm sorry if I startled you earlier..." Trowa began, extending one hand. "I lose track of myself when I get that angry, and I had forgotten you were there."
"I-it's alright." Heero replied, taking his hand. "I think I'm still getting used to all this... I didn't mean to stare." That was basically it... but watching Trowa shift had fascinated him to no end. It had been the same with Duo, really. Heero had asked him to change his forms once or twice so that he could see it happening, however neither of them had quite figured out how to get Heero back into his human form yet. Duo was under the assumption that it would happen on its own in time, and for the moment it was the best they had. He blinked, feeling the trembling fingers of the Pooka against the skin of his palm. Duo was right... Trowa was going to be having problems from this.
After the contact was broken, Trowa seemed to curl in on himself once more, chin resting against his knees. Duo glanced back and forth between his two friends, then slowly brought one hand to Trowa's shoulder. "Trowa, please... don't bottle this up inside or it'll make it even worse. You did what you had to--..."
"NO! I did what I WANTED to!" Trowa lifted his gaze, glaring at Duo, his voice a feral snarl. "I had no right to do what I did... I should have tried to help, it's what we're supposed to do! Instead, all I could think about was hurting her the way she'd hurt you."
"If you'd tried to help, you both would have wound up dead." Duo and Trowa looked up towards Heero, who had leaned back in the chair and was now just watching them intently. "She said that much, I heard it. People had tried to help her before and she wound up either killing them outright or doing to them what you did to her."
"Heero's right." Duo turned back to Trowa, who's eyes were becoming damp once more with tears. "She would have killed you. She already had left me for dead."
Trowa shook his head, bringing his hands to the temples at each side of his eyes. "I killed her, Duo... with my bare hands, I killed her. She was Fae too, just like us--"
"Not like us. Not at ALL like us! She tried to stop us from helping Heero, she tried to kill me, and she would have done the same to you! You did what you had to, nothing more." Duo looked up at Heero then, eyes searching for any help that the satyr could give him. There was nothing there... neither of them could think of a way to try and make this better. As Trowa curled forward, Duo just pulled him against his own chest, cradling him as his friend's body shook with the tears that were falling once more.
* * *
Moonlight fell around him, sparkling on the dew-dampened grass and making the entire landscape seem as though it were out of a fairytale. Trowa hardly saw it however, as he shoved his hands farthur into his pockets and hunched his shoulders against the autumn wind. He had spent hours with Duo and Heero, trying to justify his actions to himself. He didn't have to worry about those two... they were the ones trying to convince him that what he did was right.
They didn't have the blood on their hands... they didn't have to face Miss Une every day, knowing what it felt like for their fingers to tear through her flesh... they didn't have to look at the dead shallowness of her eyes and know that it was their hand that had caused it. He wanted to scream, or curse, or tear something apart... anything that would make this pain go away. She had been Fae, that much was certain. Duo and Heero were right, she would have killed him if he'd tried to assist her in any way... but he should have at least tried, shouldn't he? The part that worried him the most was that while he felt guilty over what he had done... he couldn't deny the smile that came to his face when he remembered the stark terror in her eyes.
* * *
"M'lord." Came the respectful acknowledgement of the guard outside of the main hall of the Freehold. Trieze nodded politely, smiling as he moved past the doors and down the corridor to his own quarters. His. The thought gave him pause to smile, realizing that everything here was now HIS to control. The people had no problem accepthing him once Davin's association with the Dauntain had been proven. The former Lord of the Hold was now confined to the west wing, accompanied by his wife, who had begged to be allowed to stay near him. Trieze had to admire her loyalty to her husband. Even in the face of such dishonour, the Lady Anne had chosen to try and help her husband heal, and to bring back the gentle Sidhe Lord she had devoted her life to so long ago. He couldn't fault her that in the slightest. It gave him hope that the people wouldn't completely turn their backs on the man who had led the Hold through prosperity for so long. Granted, this was definately cause for Exile... however if that happened, then the chances were that Davin would only slip further into the madness and banality brought on by the Dauntain, and perhaps would become one himself. No, it was much better for all concerned if he were kept here and given the chance to heal.
Trieze's footsteps clicked against the marble floor softly, the sound becoming an almost soothing background noise as he made his way down the hall. His gaze flicked towards a closed set of ornate double doors and he couldn't deny the slight pang in his chest. Relena's quarters. She had made good her escape that night and had gotten Quatre and Zechs away from the Hold before anything happened. Noin had gone with them as well, and had personally taken on responsibility for their safety. Now, Zechs was back and recovering from his illness. There were those who stated that it was the proximity of the Dauntain's influence that had ailed him, and it was hard to dispute. Ever since Davin had been moved, Zechs' recovery had been remarkable. Soon, he would be able to rejoin the day to day activities of the Hold, and Trieze was half expecting the people to request that Zechs assume control as Lord. That was another thought that made him smile. The people didn't blame the entire family for the weakness of the father. Relena and Zechs were still just as loved as they had been before, and there were numerous requests over the young Lordling's health on a daily basis.
Relena had returned with Zechs as well, but had left almost immediately afterward. Quatre was nearly desperate to return to the school with his friends and refused to take no for an answer, regardless of the fact that he truly wasn't healed enough to travel at all. He would have bolted on his own, had Relena not gone to check on him late one night and found him ready to disappear out the window. She offered to go with him, to see him back to the others safely, and seemed to have a slight inclination as to what caused the younger boy to be so frantic. Word had arrived about the confrontation with the Dauntain at the school, and the fact that it was no longer a worry to the Hold, or anyone else. If Quatre was half as perceptive as Relena seemed to think, then it was no wonder he was loathe to remain here. However... Trieze couldn't be blamed if he sorely missed the presence of the one person he had longed to see during all his years of exile.
Stepping into his rooms, he shrugged off the overcoat he had worn for the night's meal. The room was dark still, with only a few candles breathing their illumination into the air. It wasn't until he had dropped the coat onto a chair and made his way towards the closet that realization hit, causing him to reach to his side for his weapon. There had been no guards outside the door to his chamber. There were always two posted there, just in case someone who was disgruntled about the change of command decided to get even. One hand was on the hilt of his sword as he began to turn, but it was already too late. He felt the sudden edge of a swordtip against his throat, his eyes shifting to the side and gazing down the length of the curved blade. One gloved hand was wrapped around the hilt of the scimitar, the slender fingers twining through a tasselled cord that hung from the pommel. Pale, loose fabric swathed the figure from shoulder to wrist, and there was another length of what could be a scarf wrapped loosely over nose and mouth. The same scarf draped lightly over flame red hair, a few locks escaping free to brush over deep green eyes which now glared at him in unbridled anger.
"Where is my brother..."
* * *
TBC
