Warnings: AU, fantasy, yaoi, het Pairings: 3+4/4+3 Notes: Okay, FFN now has all the parts of MH that are completed. I love feedback. Gimme? ^___^ *****

Miscellaneous Heirs - Part Seven
by Orerinia

*****

Servants walked around the edges of the courtyard, trying their best not to noticed by the nobles. They scurried around, looking furtively right and left, like mice locked in a room with cats, as they went about their business. Whatever their business might be could have been anything from fetching herbs for a healer or running back and forth between a lord and his wife as they fought from a distance, using a servant as their messenger boy.

The servants dodged out of the way of nobles, getting near one of them usually caused incidents that often lead to a servant being punished. No, the courtyard was not a nice place for servants to be, however, there were several that had to be there because of the jobs that had been put to them.

Heero had been in the courtyard just after the sun had risen, perched upon a granite statue of a gryphon, scrubbing years of grime and dirt away. Moss had actually started to make its home there, welcomed by the damp cracks and crooks of the statue. It was now late midday, the sun slowly making its way downward, and he was still at work. The pads of his fingers and his palm had been made soft by the water and slowly the skin was peeling away, while his knuckles, knees, and the backs of his hands bled from scrapes he had received from the rock.

The queen had set him at a task and he had to finish it.

Unlike other servants, the nobles paid him little attention, except for a select few that threw rocks at him, called him quite a selection of vulgar names, though barely any were creative enough to take notice of. Perhaps those nobles that did not bother him were pitying him. It was quite possible. He had been titled a Queen's Pet by many of the other servants, it was likely the nobles had heard of it and left him alone because they knew what his fate would soon be.

At times the queen took notice of certain people for a peculiar reason or no reason at all. Anybody could be picked--be it noble, peasant, or servant--and it was those who caught her eye that ultimately died. In her kingdom every person was as apt to die as the next, but those that were dubbed Queen's Pet by others were certain to die shortly--they never lasted longer than a month. Queen Mariemaia would give them tasks to accomplish within a certain time period and if they did not complete it, they would die. Eventually, she would give them something that was impossible to do, so it was never a happy ending for a Queen's Pet.

"Heero," a soft voice made him turn his head, "come down and eat. You've been up there forever."

Relena. Ever since they had met several years ago, she had taken it upon herself to be something approximate to a sister to him. At times she acted younger than him, at others older. He vaguely remembered having an older sister, someone who chided him for the smallest things and looked after him. She belonged with the ghost memories of his mother and father when he had lived on a small farm. It had only been a few years since then, yet it was better left forgotten.

He raised an eyebrow at the slender girl outfitted in a rough cotton dress, carrying a small pitcher in one hand and a bowl filled with bread and cheese in the other. He had to finish his job or else . . . "Relena, I-"

Relena cocked her head to the side, a small smile gracing her face. She was worried about his status as Queen's Pet, but she was trying to hide it from him, perhaps wanting to believe that if it wasn't true, it really wouldn't be true. It was interesting how people's minds worked at times. "I know you have to finish, Heero, still you have to eat something, too. You've been here all day without stopping at all." She hesitated, "Please? For me?"

He sat upon the shoulder of the gryphon statue, trying to exact a glare at her. She was unaffected. Damn her. She was his only weakness. The only thing that affected him.

Heero tore his gaze away from her, staring up into the blue sky. His thin shirt had long ago stuck itself to his chest and back, his own sweat drenching the cloth. His mouth was dry and he /hadn't/ eaten since sunrise. He couldn't very well allow his energy to become depleted just because he wasn't eating.

That was why he was going to stop to eat and drink something. Not because she looked up at him with big, crystal blue eyes asking him to eat. Definitely not because of that.

He climbed down from his perch, dropping the scrubbing brush he held in his hands into a bucket filled with water.

Her blue eyes twinkled, "Here you go." She shoved the bowl and pitcher into each of his hands, then gently pushed on one of his shoulder until he sat down on the ground. She plopped down next to him as he took a drink from the pitcher.

"It's beautiful out today, isn't it?" Relena twirled a lock of her hair around her finger. "You can't really tell inside the kitchen."

Heero, in the midst of chewing through a bite of bread, scrambled to his feet as he heard the trotting hooves of horses come into the courtyard. Relena was quick to follow his example. He swallowed the bread, intent on the occurrence that was taking place. Guards rode in and behind four of them rode passengers. It wasn't odd for the queen's guards to come and go; they had set patrol routes to attend to. What was odd were the passengers.

The guards never allowed anyone to ride with them. Prisoners were typically brought in behind the horses, sometimes dragged. And they didn't come in quite as a varied lot as this.

The first boy who came down off the horse was normal enough, except for his strange hairstyle. That one's green eyes scanned the area warily. The next boy was a blond, coloring that was rarely seen in Triel. His clothes were of foreign design and cloth as well. Number three was another boy who was just as foreign as the last one, with black hair and copper skin. He only knew of one person with that same coloring..

The last boy was dressed all in black and at first glance that was the only thing really noticeable about him. Then he caught sight of the long chestnut braid with black feathers hanging off of it. The boy it belonged to was staring at the ground, his fingers tapping along his thighs, and his mouth moving giving indication that he was muttering.

The boy in black finally raised his head, glancing quickly about him. His eyes ran over Heero and Relena, along with everyone else in the courtyard, before he relaxed slightly, stepping in the direction where his three companions were grouped together.

Then he looked up in Heero's direction again with violet eyes. Violet eyes. Heero had never seen eyes like that before. Never. And they held him like a fly caught in a spider's web, he was unable to escape from their gaze.

They were so . . . entrancing.

The slightly cross look on the braided boy's face seemed to melt away and his eyes lit up. He looked as if he was about to take a step towards Heero, that pause in movement gave him away. It could have been what gave him away to the copper boy, who grabbed a hold of the braided boy's arm, looked in the direction that he had been about to move in, and frowned at Heero.

The braided boy still held his gaze with those violet eyes.

"Heero?" Relena's soft query pulled him out of his trance-like state. He jerked away from those entrancing eyes.

"Yes?"

She softly touched him on the shoulder, "Stay away from them," concerned cornflower blues eyes were wide, "Whatever reason they're here for, it can't be good."

Did she think he was a fool? No, she just tended to worry too much. "I know." He sat back down to swiftly finish his meal before he continued work on the statue.

"Just making sure. I don't want to lose you sooner than I have to." He knew what she meant. He didn't have much time left anyways, but she didn't want to see his life end without living that much less time. Relena was like that. She shook her head, sending wheat-blond strands of hair whisking around her face. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes. There are some things I have to do that can't wait."

He watched her walk away, steps quick and sure. She was right. Those strangers were here for something that could not be at all good, whether they knew it or not. He should just ignore them.

As he finished his bread and water all he could think of was violet eyes.

*****

"The princes have arrived, Your Majesty. They are waiting for you in the Great Hall."

Mariemaia raised her head, turning her attention from the vase of white roses to one of her attendants, who had curtsied so low her head nearly touched the ground. "Are they?" Her red painted lips curved upward into a smile. "They can wait for a moment longer."

Her fingertip caressed the edge of a rose petal, its velvet softness pleasing. "My father loved roses. Loved them like he loved my mother and that wench that is my step-mother. Loved them like he did not love me." She knew her attendant was bewildered and frightened out of her wits behind her. Let her be. "He sent me away to my grandfather because he couldn't stand having me around." A dark chuckle escaped from her throat. "I wonder if he would have done that if he realized it was to be his downfall. My poor father . . . he was such a fool."

She became deathly quiet before tossing back her fire-red hair and turning around in a swish of dark yellow silk. "Go make sure the cooks prepare something decent tonight for dinner. We have guests."

Her attendant curtsied even lower, then scurried off to her duties, most likely grateful to escape from her presence. Mariemaia snorted softly to herself. She plucked a rose from the vase, making sure none of its sharp thorns cut into her skin, then swept out into the Great Hall.

Four boys nearly jumped in startlement at her appearance. All watched her with wary eyes. No surprise there. She immediately picked out the green-eyed and blond boy as the princes of Barli and Reva, her /spies/ had shown her who they were. She put the other two to the back of her mind, they were of no concern right now since her shields had no reaction to them. She needn't worry about them at the moment.

She reached out a hand in a welcoming gesture, smiling graciously, "I am so glad that you decided to accompany my guards here."

"Not like we had much choice . . ." she heard the boy with braided hair mumble. She ignored him.

The blond bowed slightly, "It was our pleasure, Your Majesty. It is not often that I get to visit the court of another country, especially one so different than my own."

"Prince Quatre of Reva, am I right?" He nodded. "I suppose it is different from your own kingdom, the climate and our ways of running it."

"Yes, indeed it is." His blue-green eyes gazed at her in curiosity. Was he trying to figure her out? He wasn't going to have much luck.

She cocked her head in the direction of the other prince, "If he is Prince Quatre, you must be Prince Trowa. It is nice to have a royal visitor from a neighboring country for a change. We get so few."

"I wonder-" the boy with copper skin elbowed the braided boy before he could finish the sentence.

She raised an eyebrow, "May I ask who your companions are?"

Prince Trowa bowed his head slightly, "Indeed you may." He waved a hand in the direction of the braided boy, "Duo is my servant. He is uncouth, I know, but he makes up for it in other ways." He looked at her with cool, green eyes, his face a stone mask.

Mariemaia tapped the rose against her lip, looking at the young man dressed in black with considering eyes. His body had promise underneath all that cloth and his face was not unpleasant to look at, especially with those unusual eyes. And his hair . . . long and chestnut-colored with those black feathers, they gave him a sort of appeal. "Ah, yes, I see." She grinned.

"I take it the other boy is your servant, Prince Quatre, perhaps more?" she asked, eyeing the copper-skinned boy up and down, while moving closer to the blond prince.

Quatre quirked his lips upwards, "He is my servant and, also, a bodyguard from me. He's from a far-off land that I can never quite pronounce the name of. Not that it matters."

That would explain his presence, she supposed. "Well, you will have no need for a bodyguard here. You are quite safe as long as you're under my protection." She drew the rose down her cheek, watching Quatre's eyes follow it with fascination. Hmm . . . "Do you have roses in your country?"

He blinked at her in surprise, "No. I've seen them from afar at markets and in my travels, but I've never had time to actually see them up close."

"That's a shame. They're beautiful flowers." She held the rose out to him, "Here take it. I have many more where it came from."

He reached out a careful hand, those turquoise eyes never leaving her face. His fingers were wrapping around it when she let go and he automatically grasped it, so it wouldn't fall to the floor. He cried out, his companions lurching forward to help him, his hand relinquishing its grasp on the rose and it continued its descent downwards. He stumbled back a step or two, bumping into Trowa, who placed two hands upon his shoulders and glared daggers at her. Quatre was staring at his hand, biting his lip, as he watched red blood swell up from several cuts in his skin.

She raised her hands to her mouth, pretending to be horrified and rushed forward, ignoring the two servants who had taken defensive stances at the sides of the princes. "Oh, I am so sorry! I should have warned you about the thorns!" She pulled a white handkerchief out from a pocket hidden in her skirt, grasped his hand, and dabbed at the blood with the piece of white cloth, murmuring numerous apologies underneath her breath.

Prince Quatre pulled his hand away gently, "It's all right." A soft smile, "I didn't cut it that badly."

She widened her crystal blue eyes, holding the bloody handkerchief near her breast, "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

She glanced at his companions. Duo, his shoulders hunched, glowering at her with violet eyes, Wufei, his body outwardly relaxed, but she knew he was ready to attack her in an instant, and Prince Trowa, green eyes never leaving her face, never showing anything of what he was feeling.

Mariemaia hesitated, "I'm sure you've all had a long journey." She clicked the fingers of her free hand. "I have rooms ready for yourselves, Prince Trowa and Prince Quatre." She glanced at Prince Quatre, "Someone will come to treat your hand while you're there and I'll have some of my people make room for your attendants in the Servants' Hall."

Both princes looked as if they were about to protest about something, but she was already directing her servants around, all the while clutching the piece of white material soaked with some of Quatre's blood in her hands.

*****

Queen Mariemaia had placed Quatre in a series of rooms. There was the sitting room, the breakfast room, and the bedroom. He had protested when he had seen her at dinner--after having his hand tended to and bathing--but she had said that it befitted royalty to have such rooms. Trowa had gotten the same treatment in placement as he had.

Duo and Wufei had not. But that was to be expected, since she thought they were servants. Something both of them had made clear that they were not happy about when they had a second alone with Trowa and Quatre. And a second was all they had together before they had been swept apart by the queen.

Now that dinner was over, Quatre sat in his silk pajamas, curled up on one of the chairs in the sitting room, yawning. It had been a long day, and no matter how dangerous the queen was, it was about time he went to bed.

The door opened to his room and his eyes darted to the figure that appeared there. He let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, Trowa, it's just you."

Trowa nodded, "Did you know she was guards at the end of each hall?"

"Yes. She also has several outside my balcony." He moved his legs out from underneath himself, stretching them, then standing up. "She doesn't want us leaving our rooms."

"I know." Trowa took several more steps in, his mouth a straight, grim line. "I wonder if she's treating Duo and Wufei the same way."

Quatre shook his head, "I doubt it. They're in the Servants' Hall, remember? It would be hard to keep a tabs on who comes and goes. I think she deemed them of no importance as soon as she saw them, especially given your whole 'He is uncouth, I know, but he makes up for it in other ways' remark." He smirked, "I never knew that you and Duo were together like /that/."

Trowa glowered at him, "You are a brat. You know I was lying."

"Were you?" he blinked innocently at Trowa's serious face before shaking his head. "You are way too serious, Trowa."

"Why shouldn't I be? We're in this castle, aren't we?" His hand rubbed the back of his neck, "She probably knows what we think of her, but did you see the way she acted? Like she was completely innocent and there was nothing wrong here."

Quatre shrugged, "I don't know what to think of her. I've heard about the things she's done and I've seen some of them, yet, there's something about her that I just don't get." He frowned, "I'm probably just trying to see some sense of decency in her, I guess." He looked into Trowa's eyes, "Why did you come in here?"

The sudden change in subject threw Trowa off kilter for a second or two. "I-I wanted to check on your hand."

"It's fine. See!" He held up his hand, the cuts barely visible having already started the healing process. Trowa stepped closer, studying it to make sure. Quatre rolled his eyes, "I can take care of myself, you know. Can you?"

Green eyes grew large as they started down at Quatre's face and somewhat of a blank look crossed Trowa's face. Then, instead of the sharp retort he was expecting came the question, "Can I take care of you?"

Unsure if Trowa was joking or not, Quatre took a moment to figure it out . . .and study Trowa's face with its sharp and handsome features. "No. Can you take care of yourself?"

Trowa smiled softly, "I know that. I was asking if I can take care of you."

"Don't even try flirting with me, Trowa of Barli." Quatre yawned--disguising the fact that he was feeling awfully flattered--and stretched his arms above his head, "I'm too tired to notice."

"Oh," Trowa started backing away, his head lowered, the smile from his face gone, "I'll go back to my room, then, since you'll be wanting to go to bed."

Quatre reached forward with a hand. "No, wait a second!" He hadn't meant to make Trowa feel bad, which seemed to be what he had done. Trowa looked up, questionly. "I was wondering if you could stay the night with me . . . again? If I have another nightmare I don't want to wake up alone."

Those green eyes brightened and that soft smile returned. "I'll stay."

"Thank you, Trowa."