Creature of the Wood
Chapter 9
-----------------------------
"Where is my brother..."
Trieze froze, smiling faintly as an attempt to reassure the woman that he meant no harm. It was merely for the sake of appearances, however, since she actually did have him at a disadvantage at the moment. "If you'll tell me who you are and who your brother is, M'lady, I can assure you I'll be able to answer you a bit easier." He barely even winced as the tip of the sword pierced his skin, sending a faint trickle of crimson down to seep into the collar of his shirt.
"My brother was brought here on orders of the Lord of this Hold. Our family recieved word that he was being held for treason, and that simply cannot be so. Take me to him, or I'll find someone more useful who can... 'M'lord'." Sarcasm dripped from the title, and the woman had to control her anger long enough to even stay her hand at this point. The message her family had recieved left no room for doubt that her younger brother was in danger, and she'd be damned if this so called 'Lord' of the Hold was going to cause her family any harm.
Trieze went over her words quickly in his mind. There was only one person she could be speaking of, and if he was right, then the boy was already well away from the hold. She must have come recently and assumed that the man who had proclaimed this sentence was none other than Trieze himself. However, he wasn't certain if she would believe him at this point in time. Both his gaze and hers darted to the door then, as it opened.
"Trieze, why are there no guards at the-- oh." Zechs stopped in mid stride, blinking as he looked between his friend and the stranger holding him at swordpoint. "Well, that explains it." He closed the door behind him, moving into the room with his hands out at his sides in an effort to not cause any hasty reactions.
"I'm glad you're taking this so well." Trieze glared at his friend, half wishing he could get his hands around that pale throat for just a few moments. "If you wouldn't mind *too* terribly, could you perhaps explain to this lady where Quatre Winner is?"
Zechs looked to the woman, tilting his head to the side curiously. "Forgive me, I must seem rude. I am Zechs, son of the former Lord of this Hold. The man you so elequently have subdued is Trieze, the current Lord as of about a day ago. I must say, this is the first time I've seen him at a loss for words, however. I commend you." His phrasing had the desired effect as the scimitar was lowered and the woman looked between the two of them incredulously.
"For one, you're awful cheerful for having walked in and found your Lord at swordpoint... for two, I must apologize then. You had been pointed out as the Lord of the Hold, and I had concluded that you were the one to hand down this 'sentence' upon my brother." She stepped back, bowing slightly to them both. "My apologies, Lord Trieze."
Zechs just smirked, walking towards the two of them. "You know, I'll give her credit. Most would be cowering and grovelling for forgiveness after threatening you in such a manner."
Trieze simply nodded, shaking his head faintly and bringing up one hand to press against the shallow wound against his throat. "Indeed." He looked to the woman, a bit of respect flashing in his eyes. "Well, my dear... you know who we are, and we vaguely know who you are. Would you grace us with your name?"
The woman smiled, bringing the scarf back from her head and allowing her hair to fall over one shoulder. "My name is Selena Winner. I won't apologize for my actions, however I will say that it was a mistake to blame you for this. I still want to know where my brother is and if I find out he's hurt, I want the head of the one who ordered it." The emerald eyes flashed in anger, but the emotion quickly was replaced by a hopeful glance to the two of them. "Do you know where he is?"
"Now that you mention it, yes." Trieze answered smoothly, moving back towards the closet and disappearing into it. His voice carried out into the main room still as he went about removing the bothersome finery that he'd had to wear to the evening meal and settled into a plain tunic and pants. "He's likely about halfway back to the school he was in by now. Zechs' sister accompanied him, he was rather adamant about returning. I daresay, he is injured, however the one responsible is currently in custody." He wasn't present to see the dark expression cross Selena's face, however he could hazard a guess that the Sidhe Lady was not pleased with this news. He emerged once more, dressed more comfortably, and continued. "He demanded to return, even though we didn't think him fit enough to travel. After realizing that he'd leave on his own, Relena decided to go with him to assist him should he need it. You will be able to find them both there, as they should be arriving shortly."
Selena simply nodded politely to them both and turned to walk out the door. "Thank you for your help. I'll be going to join my brother then..." She turned, peering back into the room before shutting the door completely. "Your guards are in the linen closet across the hall. They'll wake up soon, but I don't envy them the headaches they'll have." With that, she was gone.
"Well, she was definately amusing. I wonder if his entire family is hotheaded like those two are." Zechs chuckled, shaking his head slightly as he turned back to Trieze.
"I'm not sure. However, with the family being that loyal, I'm definately glad that they seem to hate Davin and not me." Trieze moved into the hall then, stepping across to the closet to wake up his guards. "Zechs?" He called over his shoulder. As the blonde head appeared from the doorway, Trieze smirked, his voice taking on a mischievous tone. "There's an ice bucket in my room, can you remove the bottle of wine and bring just the bucket to me?"
* * *
Trowa looked out over the campus with half hearted interest. This one one of the places he frequented, the low branches of one of the many trees that decorated the landscape. It was the same one that Duo and he had fallen out of not too terribly long ago, and the memory was enough to bring a faint smile to his lips. He rested his head against curled arms, one leg swinging lazily in the breeze that flitted through his hair and ruffled his clothing. The leaves were falling still, and it wouldn't be long until his shelter in the branches would no longer provide him with concealment. He hated the coming of winter...
One hand reached out to idly snatch at a leaf still attached by the barest of threads. The stiff foliage almost crumbled between his fingers, the chill of the season already taking its toll. He should be cold... the wind was cooling his skin to the point where his fingertips were numb... but the numbness in his heart was more powerful than anything the weather could conjure.
He'd seen Miss Une today... her vacant eyes, appearing so dead to his kind, had shaken him to the bone. He'd conversed with her pleasantly enough, discussing an assignment that was due later that week. But the entire time, his mind was screaming at him that it was his fault she was like this now, regardless of the fact that he KNEW it was the only choice he'd had. Closing his eyes tightly, he pressed his face into the crook of his arm, fighting back the tears that wanted to spring forth once more. How much had he cried since this had happened? More than he could ever remember before.
It wasn't just the fact that another Fae had died... it was that he had caused that life to flicker out and fade. He'd known others who had fought against Dauntain and had been forced to end the miserable existance of one as twised as they were known to be. It was another matter entirely, now that he had been the one to deliver that killing strike. He kept seeing that instant of realization, when her eyes had widened... when she realized that he wasn't going to stop to try and help.
* * *
Quatre's knees nearly buckled from beneath him and Relena stepped forward to bring her arms around him, supporting him so that he didn't fall. "Quatre! What happened..."
"He's hurting..." Came the faint reply, the younger Sidhe nearly gasping for air. "Oh Trowa, what happened while I was gone..." His shoulder were shaking with the effort of staying on his feet. Relena cursed softly to herself, her eyes catching sight of the dark stains criss-crossing the back of his shirt. He'd pushed himself too far... again. This was the third time in as many days that he'd gone on long after they should have stopped. He'd refused to allow her to help in any way, and they'd moved through the trods (1) as quickly as their feet would allow. Now they were approaching the campus at long last, but Relena wasn't certain just how long Quatre would be able to stay on his feet once they arrived.
They were just within sight of the dorms when he stumbled for the final time, and Relena was unable to keep him up as his body nearly went limp in her arms. A faint whimper of pain was the only noise he'd allow himself to make as her arm curled around his back instinctively, and she let out a gasp when her arm came back with faint crimson stains across the fabric. "Quatre... damnit, LISTEN to me. We're here, let me go get one of the others to get you back inside. You're going to push yourself to exhaustion if you walk any fathur!"
He didn't respond, his eyes remaining closed as he tilted his head back, his lips parting faintly even though no sound emerged. Relena took a step back reflexively as a mental scream of agony broke through her thoughts. Every ounce of pain he'd held back from the first moments in the Freehold until now, was released in that one single cry.
Duo and Heero looked up suddenly, eyes wide as they stared first towards the window, then to each other. Not a word was spoken as in unison, they rose from their seats and bolted towards the door. Duo held one hand to his shoulder, gritting his teeth against the still healing wounds as he followed Heero, aiming for the source of the call.
On the trods, still several days away, a pair of darkened green eyes lifted to the sky and narrowed. Selena's steps quickened as she took off at a dead run towards the school where her brother lay. She didn't have the mental magic that Quatre did, but she hoped that her thoughts would reach him in some way. 'I'm coming, Quatre... wait for me.'
Trowa's feet hit the ground almost before he'd even realized he was moving. He knew that voice, knew that call. How many times had that gentle presence invaded his mind with its soothing touch? His heart pounded in his ears as he raced towards the one who had let out the soul-wrenching cry. 'Oh god, please let him be alright, don't leave me...' was his mantra as the two figures came into sight. One standing as if in shock, the other huddled against the ground, arms wrapped tightly around himself. Trowa skidded to the ground, landing on his knees beside Quatre and pulling him into a tight embrace. A soft keening wail seemed to leave the other's lips, and for a moment Trowa could have sworn that each of Quatre's injuries were his own. Carefully, he shifted his grasp, gathering the blonde into his arms and standing. As he looked to Relena, she gazed up at him in weary thanks. No words were spoken... none were necessary.
She found herself the victim of a near tackle as her younger brother came bolting across the grass. As he and Heero saw Quatre, the questions started up immediately, and she tried to answer them as best she could. They saw that he was in good hands, however, and refrained from following when the now-silent Pooka walked towards the dorm, cradling Quatre against him carefully.
Quatre turned his head, eyes remaining closed as he nestled against Trowa's chest. A soft smile appeared on the taller boy's face, his head tipping forward to leave a gentle kiss against Quatre's forehead. "Rest easy, Little One... you're safe now." There was so much more he wanted to say, but he didn't quite know how. He hadn't realized just how much he would miss the Sidhe until he had gone.
Once more, he felt tears rising in his eyes, but this time it wasn't from sadness or guilt. They were a response to the barely audible words that echoed sleepily in the back of his mind.
*I love you too.*
* * *
TBC
(1) Trod - a 'magical' path in the Dreaming that usually leads from one Freehold to another. They are a faster method of travel for Fae, however they still rank second to airplane travel, etc. Most Fae still prefer the trods. It's rumoured that if one follows the trods far enough, they will reach the gates of Arcadia, however none who have tried have returned.
Chapter 9
-----------------------------
"Where is my brother..."
Trieze froze, smiling faintly as an attempt to reassure the woman that he meant no harm. It was merely for the sake of appearances, however, since she actually did have him at a disadvantage at the moment. "If you'll tell me who you are and who your brother is, M'lady, I can assure you I'll be able to answer you a bit easier." He barely even winced as the tip of the sword pierced his skin, sending a faint trickle of crimson down to seep into the collar of his shirt.
"My brother was brought here on orders of the Lord of this Hold. Our family recieved word that he was being held for treason, and that simply cannot be so. Take me to him, or I'll find someone more useful who can... 'M'lord'." Sarcasm dripped from the title, and the woman had to control her anger long enough to even stay her hand at this point. The message her family had recieved left no room for doubt that her younger brother was in danger, and she'd be damned if this so called 'Lord' of the Hold was going to cause her family any harm.
Trieze went over her words quickly in his mind. There was only one person she could be speaking of, and if he was right, then the boy was already well away from the hold. She must have come recently and assumed that the man who had proclaimed this sentence was none other than Trieze himself. However, he wasn't certain if she would believe him at this point in time. Both his gaze and hers darted to the door then, as it opened.
"Trieze, why are there no guards at the-- oh." Zechs stopped in mid stride, blinking as he looked between his friend and the stranger holding him at swordpoint. "Well, that explains it." He closed the door behind him, moving into the room with his hands out at his sides in an effort to not cause any hasty reactions.
"I'm glad you're taking this so well." Trieze glared at his friend, half wishing he could get his hands around that pale throat for just a few moments. "If you wouldn't mind *too* terribly, could you perhaps explain to this lady where Quatre Winner is?"
Zechs looked to the woman, tilting his head to the side curiously. "Forgive me, I must seem rude. I am Zechs, son of the former Lord of this Hold. The man you so elequently have subdued is Trieze, the current Lord as of about a day ago. I must say, this is the first time I've seen him at a loss for words, however. I commend you." His phrasing had the desired effect as the scimitar was lowered and the woman looked between the two of them incredulously.
"For one, you're awful cheerful for having walked in and found your Lord at swordpoint... for two, I must apologize then. You had been pointed out as the Lord of the Hold, and I had concluded that you were the one to hand down this 'sentence' upon my brother." She stepped back, bowing slightly to them both. "My apologies, Lord Trieze."
Zechs just smirked, walking towards the two of them. "You know, I'll give her credit. Most would be cowering and grovelling for forgiveness after threatening you in such a manner."
Trieze simply nodded, shaking his head faintly and bringing up one hand to press against the shallow wound against his throat. "Indeed." He looked to the woman, a bit of respect flashing in his eyes. "Well, my dear... you know who we are, and we vaguely know who you are. Would you grace us with your name?"
The woman smiled, bringing the scarf back from her head and allowing her hair to fall over one shoulder. "My name is Selena Winner. I won't apologize for my actions, however I will say that it was a mistake to blame you for this. I still want to know where my brother is and if I find out he's hurt, I want the head of the one who ordered it." The emerald eyes flashed in anger, but the emotion quickly was replaced by a hopeful glance to the two of them. "Do you know where he is?"
"Now that you mention it, yes." Trieze answered smoothly, moving back towards the closet and disappearing into it. His voice carried out into the main room still as he went about removing the bothersome finery that he'd had to wear to the evening meal and settled into a plain tunic and pants. "He's likely about halfway back to the school he was in by now. Zechs' sister accompanied him, he was rather adamant about returning. I daresay, he is injured, however the one responsible is currently in custody." He wasn't present to see the dark expression cross Selena's face, however he could hazard a guess that the Sidhe Lady was not pleased with this news. He emerged once more, dressed more comfortably, and continued. "He demanded to return, even though we didn't think him fit enough to travel. After realizing that he'd leave on his own, Relena decided to go with him to assist him should he need it. You will be able to find them both there, as they should be arriving shortly."
Selena simply nodded politely to them both and turned to walk out the door. "Thank you for your help. I'll be going to join my brother then..." She turned, peering back into the room before shutting the door completely. "Your guards are in the linen closet across the hall. They'll wake up soon, but I don't envy them the headaches they'll have." With that, she was gone.
"Well, she was definately amusing. I wonder if his entire family is hotheaded like those two are." Zechs chuckled, shaking his head slightly as he turned back to Trieze.
"I'm not sure. However, with the family being that loyal, I'm definately glad that they seem to hate Davin and not me." Trieze moved into the hall then, stepping across to the closet to wake up his guards. "Zechs?" He called over his shoulder. As the blonde head appeared from the doorway, Trieze smirked, his voice taking on a mischievous tone. "There's an ice bucket in my room, can you remove the bottle of wine and bring just the bucket to me?"
* * *
Trowa looked out over the campus with half hearted interest. This one one of the places he frequented, the low branches of one of the many trees that decorated the landscape. It was the same one that Duo and he had fallen out of not too terribly long ago, and the memory was enough to bring a faint smile to his lips. He rested his head against curled arms, one leg swinging lazily in the breeze that flitted through his hair and ruffled his clothing. The leaves were falling still, and it wouldn't be long until his shelter in the branches would no longer provide him with concealment. He hated the coming of winter...
One hand reached out to idly snatch at a leaf still attached by the barest of threads. The stiff foliage almost crumbled between his fingers, the chill of the season already taking its toll. He should be cold... the wind was cooling his skin to the point where his fingertips were numb... but the numbness in his heart was more powerful than anything the weather could conjure.
He'd seen Miss Une today... her vacant eyes, appearing so dead to his kind, had shaken him to the bone. He'd conversed with her pleasantly enough, discussing an assignment that was due later that week. But the entire time, his mind was screaming at him that it was his fault she was like this now, regardless of the fact that he KNEW it was the only choice he'd had. Closing his eyes tightly, he pressed his face into the crook of his arm, fighting back the tears that wanted to spring forth once more. How much had he cried since this had happened? More than he could ever remember before.
It wasn't just the fact that another Fae had died... it was that he had caused that life to flicker out and fade. He'd known others who had fought against Dauntain and had been forced to end the miserable existance of one as twised as they were known to be. It was another matter entirely, now that he had been the one to deliver that killing strike. He kept seeing that instant of realization, when her eyes had widened... when she realized that he wasn't going to stop to try and help.
* * *
Quatre's knees nearly buckled from beneath him and Relena stepped forward to bring her arms around him, supporting him so that he didn't fall. "Quatre! What happened..."
"He's hurting..." Came the faint reply, the younger Sidhe nearly gasping for air. "Oh Trowa, what happened while I was gone..." His shoulder were shaking with the effort of staying on his feet. Relena cursed softly to herself, her eyes catching sight of the dark stains criss-crossing the back of his shirt. He'd pushed himself too far... again. This was the third time in as many days that he'd gone on long after they should have stopped. He'd refused to allow her to help in any way, and they'd moved through the trods (1) as quickly as their feet would allow. Now they were approaching the campus at long last, but Relena wasn't certain just how long Quatre would be able to stay on his feet once they arrived.
They were just within sight of the dorms when he stumbled for the final time, and Relena was unable to keep him up as his body nearly went limp in her arms. A faint whimper of pain was the only noise he'd allow himself to make as her arm curled around his back instinctively, and she let out a gasp when her arm came back with faint crimson stains across the fabric. "Quatre... damnit, LISTEN to me. We're here, let me go get one of the others to get you back inside. You're going to push yourself to exhaustion if you walk any fathur!"
He didn't respond, his eyes remaining closed as he tilted his head back, his lips parting faintly even though no sound emerged. Relena took a step back reflexively as a mental scream of agony broke through her thoughts. Every ounce of pain he'd held back from the first moments in the Freehold until now, was released in that one single cry.
Duo and Heero looked up suddenly, eyes wide as they stared first towards the window, then to each other. Not a word was spoken as in unison, they rose from their seats and bolted towards the door. Duo held one hand to his shoulder, gritting his teeth against the still healing wounds as he followed Heero, aiming for the source of the call.
On the trods, still several days away, a pair of darkened green eyes lifted to the sky and narrowed. Selena's steps quickened as she took off at a dead run towards the school where her brother lay. She didn't have the mental magic that Quatre did, but she hoped that her thoughts would reach him in some way. 'I'm coming, Quatre... wait for me.'
Trowa's feet hit the ground almost before he'd even realized he was moving. He knew that voice, knew that call. How many times had that gentle presence invaded his mind with its soothing touch? His heart pounded in his ears as he raced towards the one who had let out the soul-wrenching cry. 'Oh god, please let him be alright, don't leave me...' was his mantra as the two figures came into sight. One standing as if in shock, the other huddled against the ground, arms wrapped tightly around himself. Trowa skidded to the ground, landing on his knees beside Quatre and pulling him into a tight embrace. A soft keening wail seemed to leave the other's lips, and for a moment Trowa could have sworn that each of Quatre's injuries were his own. Carefully, he shifted his grasp, gathering the blonde into his arms and standing. As he looked to Relena, she gazed up at him in weary thanks. No words were spoken... none were necessary.
She found herself the victim of a near tackle as her younger brother came bolting across the grass. As he and Heero saw Quatre, the questions started up immediately, and she tried to answer them as best she could. They saw that he was in good hands, however, and refrained from following when the now-silent Pooka walked towards the dorm, cradling Quatre against him carefully.
Quatre turned his head, eyes remaining closed as he nestled against Trowa's chest. A soft smile appeared on the taller boy's face, his head tipping forward to leave a gentle kiss against Quatre's forehead. "Rest easy, Little One... you're safe now." There was so much more he wanted to say, but he didn't quite know how. He hadn't realized just how much he would miss the Sidhe until he had gone.
Once more, he felt tears rising in his eyes, but this time it wasn't from sadness or guilt. They were a response to the barely audible words that echoed sleepily in the back of his mind.
*I love you too.*
* * *
TBC
(1) Trod - a 'magical' path in the Dreaming that usually leads from one Freehold to another. They are a faster method of travel for Fae, however they still rank second to airplane travel, etc. Most Fae still prefer the trods. It's rumoured that if one follows the trods far enough, they will reach the gates of Arcadia, however none who have tried have returned.
