+++++ PART 2 +++++

"Maybe," Trowa whispered to the ceiling of his darkened chamber, "He'll attack by sea and wipe out Treize's fleet, first, so he won't be able to send out for supplies...and then lay in around the city and set up a siege like the one at Troy... No. Duo's not patient enough for a ten year campaign." Trowa rolled over on his side and stared at the stone wall, still speaking to the empty air.

"Maybe he'll burn the city? No...That would put the boy at risk. Same thing with starting a plague-siege...." Trowa sighed in frustration and rolled over again, pressing his face into the pillow. "Maybe he'll cross the river so that he won't have to go over the walls..." He trailed off then and raised his head from the pillow. "Look at me," he said, scornfully. "I'm talking to myself again." He let out a sound of frustration and punched the pillow.

It had been almost a year since Duo had left. He couldn't take much more of this. He was going to go insane.



"It's about time for Quatre to come outside, now," Duo whispered to the ceiling of his darkened room. "Trowa will be sitting by the window, lucky dog, staring at him from the tower. And maybe today will be the day that Quatre looks up and smiles at him, and here I am half a world away." With a frustrated groan he rolled over and punched his pillow hard enough to send feathers flying. "It's not FAIR!" He wailed, covering his face with his hands. It wasn't. It really wasn't.

"Why did /I/ have to be the one they let go?" Duo grumbled. With another groan he dragged himself to his feet. There was a hot meal and a bottle of good strong wine sitting on the table beside the window. The food was the servant's idea - they seemed to think that he was wasting away - but he had no interest in /that/ part of the meal. With a grimace, he grabbed the bottle by its neck and pulled out the cork with his teeth. At least they'd brought him what he'd asked for.

He took a deep swallow of the heady stuff and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes. It had been months and months since he had last seen Quatre. He was going to go insane! He really was. Duo knocked his head backwards against the wall a few times before letting it rest against the cool stone. He would do anything to see the boy again. Anything to be close to him. But returning to Luxemburg would mean his death for certain. He was simply too recognizable. His hair... Duo's eyes flew open with a start. He spun to face the wall and scrutinized his face in the bronze mirror that hung beside the bed. He had been starving himself. Not intentionally...food had just not seemed as important since he had been deprived of his beloved. Now he could see why the servants had been so worried.

His face was thin and gaunt. It had lost the soft curves - the baby fat - that it had held in childhood. The rest of his body had suffered the same fate. He was lean and angular now. His eyes, even, had changed, loosing much of their violent tinge and fading to a dark blue. The only thing that remained the same was his hair. It was oily and bedraggled from his negligence, but still distinctive enough to be easily recognizable. A four foot braid would have been hard to miss.

It had to go.



Queen Une glared down at the boy who stood before her. He was thin and pale, almost sickly looking, with thick brown hair that fell to just above his shoulders. There was a wiry strength lurking in those limbs, though. Une was good at reading potential.

"What sort of experience do you have?" She asked.

"Not much," The boy answered, confidently. He keep his eyes respectfully downcast. Une smiled a little. She liked that in a servant. "But I'm a quick learner and a hard worker."

"Solo, is it?"

"Yes, my Queen."

"I don't need anyone in the house at the moment."

"...oh." He said in a soft, disappointed voice.

"I don't suppose you'd take garden work," She mused aloud. "We have a rather large estate with more different plants than I know what to do with. The paths are getting a bit unruly."

"Garden work is fine, my Queen," the boy answered, still quiet, but smiling now. Une thought he looked awfully eager. That was good. Enthusiastic servants were good servants.

"Very well," She said, curtly. "You'll start tomorrow."

"Thank you, my Queen," Duo said with a grin. "You just don't know how much this opportunity means to me."





As for Trowa, his life continued in just the same manner that it had for so long. With Duo gone, he divided his time between staring at the god in the garden, pondering when Duo would come and take his beloved away, and, occasionally, sleeping. Not much. Just occasionally.

He was so very focused on Quatre, in fact, than it took him four years to notice that there was a new gardener. The boy was just a little shorter than himself, just about his beloved's height, and always wore a cloak with a hood while he worked. And he never looked up. But he spent an awful lot of time staring at /his/ beloved.

Trowa found himself growing insanely jealous. After all...the gardener had a better view.

However, by the next time that his beloved walked among the flowers, he had all but forgotten the servant. He wasn't important, after all. Nothing but his beautiful young god was important, anymore.

He never thought about the gardener, again.

What he did think about was escape. For three more years he thought about escape. And then, finally, when he was a young man of twenty, the opportunity finally presented itself.

And he ran.

He ran deep into the woods surrounding the city, trying to put as much distance between himself and the guards as possible. He would continue on to Sanq the following night and try his best to gain support for an invasion of Luxemburg. Until then, though, he needed rest and he needed concealment, and so he hid himself in a thicket and went to sleep.

+++ TBC