Title: Love and Water 6/?
Author: Zoisite NightDragon
Pairing:1x4/4x1, 3x5 (it's weird, but it works. I hope *crosses fingers*) ... Duo will probably pop up with one eventually.
Warnings: I hate doing warnings. Decide for yourself. It'll get lemony (of course) and there will be some angst and other common themes. AU is a definite. Language as well. Domination, bondage, submission themes as well ahead. If this sort of thing isn't what you like to read, then I'd suggest stopping now. You have been warned. The Abydians are a tribe I just made up. I had no idea if it's even an actual word.
Thanks so much to everyone who has taken the time to read and review this work. I know it's been slow going at times, but the whole plot has finally cemented itself in my head.
**
"Shinigami has come for you!"
Those words rang through the caves as Duo met the first of the raiders one on one. The downward sweep of his scythe was stopped short by a sword, sparks kicking up along the two meldings of metal. Behind him, the violet-eyed boy could hear Trowa and Wufei engaged in their own fights. Staggering backwards, Duo scowled blackly as the raider started driving him backwards. If they managed to push the trio back outside the cave's door, they might never get back inside. With how the Abydians had their fortress set up, they could hold off an army for weeks, much less three lone invaders.
Wufei's katana lashed through the air, throwing aside his opponent as he pressed forward. Quatre had to be in here somewhere. They had seen the two riders out on the plains, one of them being the boy that Quatre had nearly been killed by the day he was kidnapped. That had been a month ago. While Wufei had no idea that the blonde had spent almost the entire month sick, he did know that the longer the boy was with the raiders, the harder it was going to be to get him back. Lunging forward, surprise flashed across his face as his blade met that of Sally Po's. The same shock was on her own face, the woman turning to shout to the other Abydians. Slowly, the scuffles came to a halt.
"Wuffers! It's good to see you," she crowed, a smirking smile settling itself on her lips.
"Did she just call you Wuffers?" Duo asked curiously, his Chinese being bad, but that word needing no translating.
Wufei sighed and ignored the self proclaimed God of Death for the moment, focusing more on the woman. Folding his hands before him, he bowed shortly to her, a sign of respect for her more than tradition. "We had thought you long dead, Po."
Sally laughed softly, shaking her head and sheathing her sword. The tribesmen and women about kept their blades bare still, warily watching the invaders. "Not dead, Wufei. Not dead. Just a change in location. I had heard you were in Sultan Al-Saud's company. What brings you out this far?"
A look passed among the three friends as Wufei's gaze moved to Trowa and Duo, a silent question lingering in them. A liar was not one of the things that Wufei was, and to lie to someone who had been a friend even if she had betrayed her tribe in a manner, was not something he was about to do. Two nods met him as he turned back to her. "We're seeking someone who was kidnapped from us, a friend. His name is Quatre."
A low sigh slipped from Sally's lips. She had already suspected that they had come looking for the boy that Heero had taken. The fact that Quatre spoke Chinese, even if it had been badly, wasn't something that she had forgotten. For the past month, the blonde had been in and out of consciousness, the fever wearing on him. He was showing signs of improving; coming awake for longer periods of time to eat what Heero offered him. A sorrow lingered on her face as she watched Wufei's face. "I thought as much when I heard him speak Chinese the first time."
"You cannot have him. He has been bound to one of my people, and he stays with us."
Zechs pushed through his own tribesmen as he reached the three invaders, his metallic eyes cold and calm. Within his hand was a sword that could easily cleave a man in two with weight alone, not to mention the strong arm that swung it. "Quatre is one of us. If you wish to take him, you must go through all of us."
Spoken first in flawless Chinese, the chieftain repeated it in the language of the Abydian people for them to understand. Nods came from all around as the warriors of the tribe lifted their own weapons, fully prepared to fight to the death for one of their own. Zechs himself stood at the ready, watching Duo over the flat of his blade. That was the one he considered to be the biggest threat. While most of the group had not been in the neighboring cities, Zechs had many times. While there, even he had heard of Shinigami and how dangerous he could be. It was hard to miss when old women forked the sign of the Evil Eye at the mere mention of the braided one's name.
Inky eyes flicked among those they were faced with, Wufei assuming command of their group for the moment. Finally, he sheathed his own sword and held out his bare hands towards both Sally and Zechs. "We wish to speak to him then, please."
Low murmurs of discussion passed between Sally and Zechs, both of their faces hard in the flickering torchlight that provided illumination within the caves. With visible reluctance, Zechs nodded, letting the woman go. With a grin to Wufei, Sally slipped back into one of the other caves from where they all were. Tense silence settled among all the warriors, Zechs still watching them all guardedly. He didn't earn the trust and leadership of his people by becoming lax when dealing with outsiders. "You shouldn't have came," he replied in Chinese to Wufei.
"We had to," Wufei murmured. "A sickness has spread among the city we came from. The people were dying and then the Marconians attacked. They killed the Sultan and have overtaken the city. Now they're dying too from this disease. Quatre's family has been destroyed between the two."
Zechs shook his head slowly, gathering in this information. The blonde had been of a high status within the Sultan's city judging from all the gems he had worn as well as the colours he had been clothed in. Only the Sultan's family or the richest wore purple in the desert. If Wufei were to be believed, then everything that Quatre had possessed before was now wiped out. Money, family, and status were gone. The boy really had nowhere else to go than with them. "Then you should leave him here with us in peace. We're his family now."
Duo nudged Wufei, his eyes fixed still on Zechs. Whoever this white haired man was, he seemed to be the leader of the group, and Shinigami's natural curiosity was aroused. "What's he saying?"
The Chinese male resisted the urge to unsheathe his blade and jab at Duo for the interruption. Switching back to the language they understood, Wufei tried to keep his composure. "He says that Quatre is now part of their tribe and that they're responsible for him, especially with his family dying."
Leave it to Wufei to cut out all the other points made such as Heero kidnapping their friend.
Duo frowned, glancing between Zechs and Wufei. "Wait… wait… this guy's friend goes off and kidnaps Quatre and we're supposed to just accept it and move on? What kind of bullshit is that? Quatre is one of us! I swore to Iria I'd protect him."
A sibilant murmur passed among the waiting tribespeople as Duo's voice began to take on a ragged and angry edge, hands stealing back to weapons to be ready. Wufei ignored it all as best he could, hands folded before him still as he spoke, calmness wrapped about each word, "We can do nothing for Quatre if we are dead, Duo. Make no mistake about it that if we try to charge them right now with just the three of us that they will cut us down without a second thought. The sun will set on our bodies left out for the vultures to peck at. We cannot win right now."
The cold silver blue of Zechs' eyes slid among the three men as he waited. Wufei was the intelligence of them to him. Duo was the force. Trowa… he wasn't sure there, but catching a glimpse of the silver collar locked about his throat told Zechs that Trowa would die for one of the other two without a second thought. That wasn't altogether comforting knowledge. Still, they had numbers on the three, and even the most seasoned of warriors couldn't face an entire tribe alone. A murmur passed among those behind them as they parted to allow others through.
Heero stalked through the crowd with the wary grace of a panther on the prowl. Cold sapphire eyes glinted beneath the chestnut lashes, flickering to the three before hardening. Within his arms rested Quatre, the blonde's arms looped loosely around his neck. With the Arab still too weak to walk, Heero had argued with Sally for allowing this, but had seen the intelligence of bringing the blonde to them versus letting them come to him. Keeping the invaders out of the main hive of the caves was paramount. Shifting Quatre in his arms, he stroked one pale cheek with his fingertips, speaking softly to try to rouse the half-conscious male.
A sparkle of aquamarine glinted in the torchlight as Quatre slowly opened his eyes. Resting his head against Heero's shoulder, his mind was sluggish to begin to recognize his surrounds. The scent of cherry and wintergreen that accompanied the Abydian had become a welcome one in the past month regardless of the mix of emotions that it drew forth. It had come to mean safety, that he wasn't alone in the times when the disease wracked him. Whether he was starting to accept Heero or was simply too weary to fight right now still remained to be seen.
"Quatre?"
Duo's voice stirred his consciousness, prompting the Arab to sleepily lift his head from Heero's shoulder. A dazed smile spread across his face, a hand loosening from about the raider to reach unsteadily towards the violet-eyed friend of his. "Duo," he murmured softly, the word nearly lost in a yawn.
Sharpened steel pointed directly between his eyes stopped Duo's forward move to snatch Quatre from the other's grip. The tip of Zechs sword sat unwaveringly before Shinigami, daring him to complete that motion for the punishment of impalement.
"Step back, now," the tribal leader stated flatly.
Translating as he tugged Duo back, Wufei could feel every muscle of his friend's body tight with anger. Murmuring soft words of calmness in their own language, he hoped that Duo didn't try to continue his charge. Quatre wasn't well enough to help them or him from the looks. Dark shadows clung about the Arab's eyes, the glints of blue peering blurrily from hollows. A sickly paleness had settled in his skin, showing that he hadn't been up and around for a time. Thinner than Wufei remembered, that wasn't what disturbed the Chinese male the most about Quatre. What needled him was the weak manner in which the blonde allowed Heero to pull back his outstretched hand to once more rest against the Abydian's shoulder. Inky eyes studied the still bandaged patches about Quatre's wrists where bands would have laid; dropping instantly to the slender ankles that still bore their metal restraints. Seeing those plunged Wufei's stomache down to his feet. When told that Quatre had been taken as someone's mate, he hadn't thought of slavery. What was already complicated had now become more so. In the city desert lands which were ruled by sultans, to have been in slavery once was to be one always, regardless of whether it was forced on one or wanted. Spying the tattoos on the backs of Quatre's hands brought more dismay. There was no doubt that his friend was property versus an equal mate.
"We have to make them let him go, Wufei," Duo whispered beside him, seeing the marks and bands as well.
"We can't," Wufei murmured in reply. "We can't 'make' them do much of anything. In case you have failed to notice, we are currently outnumbered, outmatched, and outdone on the whole."
Low conversing began between Sally and Zechs, the two muttering in the harsh, guttural tones that the Abydians used. A brooding silence sprung between the two as one tried to stare the other down. Sally was the first to break, lowering her eyes and pleading in a quiet voice. With one last snapping glare at the intruders, Zechs growled out a reply that brought a hint of a smile back to her.
Sweeping his pristine hair over one shoulder, the Abydian chief stepped forward to study the three up close. Folding his arms, he sighed and began once more in Chinese, "Provided that all of you relinquish your weapons, I am willing to provide you with our hospitality for the night seeing as how you have no city to go to as well as to allow you time to visit Heero's mate if he allows it."
As Wufei translated the words to Duo and Trowa, he cautiously watched their faces. This was not going to be pretty. Duo's expression was strained; fury at their helplessness and anger at being forced into this the most prominent. Trowa's was calm as always, thoughts that no one could fathom running behind the emerald shield of his gaze. With a scowl, Duo set aside his beloved scythe, folding his arms over his chest. Trowa followed suit with more grace, removing his claws and laying them beside his friend's weapon. Giving Sally one last glance to be sure of intentions, Wufei slid his katana back into its sheath and laid it alongside the scythe.
**
Two hours later, they were all seated about the fire with Sally patiently translating everything said to Wufei who could in turn tell Duo and Trowa what was going on. Any words he spoke were lost on Duo, the self-proclaimed god of Death's eyes fixed on the barely lucid form of Quatre. The blonde still sat on Heero's lap, his movements languidly slow. Duo had watched Sally check on him occasionally, giving him some sort of liquid to swallow. According to Wufei, it was medication against some sickness he had contracted since coming here. Judging from how glazy his friend's eyes were as well as how slow he was to respond, Duo was willing to bet that there was some sort of opium within it.
Anger still burnt in his mind and heart against these people. It increased everytime he watched Heero lift a crude cup of broth to Quatre's lips to try to get him to drink. Who were they to simply take his friend and declare him a slave? Who were they to destroy freedom? Did they know anything about the person they had stolen besides the fact that he was beautiful? Tightening his hand into a fist beneath the table, Duo's gaze moved back to Wufei, trying to concentrate on what was being said. Quatre's life might depend on it.
**
A soft touch was laid across Quatre's lips, prompting him to part them for more warmed broth. Swallowing the mouthful, the Arab yawned softly, wanting to go back to sleep for a time. He was dimly aware of the fact that the Abydian raider was holding him, soothing his hurts at present. Duo's and Wufei's voices were heard somewhere in the background, lending a false sense of security. Right now, nothing much mattered to him, the world filled with a pleasant haze.
"Come on, little one. Just another mouthful, and then you can sleep," a chocolate warm voice murmured beside his ear.
Letting the hot liquid trail across his tongue and down his throat, Quatre raised a hand to weakly push away anymore spoonfuls that were headed for him. He'd heard the 'just one more' line too many times. A muted thunk filtered into his consciousness as the earthen bowl was finally set aside, a line of heat tracing along his side as Heero's arm once more wound about him. Drugged eyes fixed on the startlingly deep blues of the raider's own as Quatre tried to focus on the other man. Anger was absent for now, only a vapid curiosity nagging at his mind. "Why?"
Heero's head tilted as calloused fingers swept along Quatre's cheek, sweeping back a few of his sweat soaked locks of sunny hair. "Why what?"
Words came slowly through the fog on Quatre's mind; senses dulled by the clear fluid that the tribe's healer kept insisting he occasionally drink. "Why me? Why are you… making me stay? I want to go home," he murmured petulantly.
Soft laughter bubbled up in the chest that Quatre's ear rested again, going unheard by those about the fire. Amusement tainted the secret smile that tugged at the edges of Heero's lips as he watched Quatre struggle through his words. "Why? Because I wanted you when I'd wanted nothing else in this world. You can't go home. I don't think you realize that yet."
Quatre tried to will his muscles to move, to try to summon up anger to lash out. All that he could manage was a childish surge of upset, the same that he had experienced when very small and being denied a sweet he'd wanted. The logical part of his mind insisted that it was the medicine's fault while the dreaming half didn't care. It was better than alternating periods of terror at being taken from his home to violent rage for being a prisoner. "Why can't I? I want my sisters. I want my life. I don't want to be this…"
A gentle hand slid through Quatre's hair once more, soothing him. It was the same reassuring touch that he had felt during his sickness when shakings had wracked him or the pain in his body had reached a crescendo. Upset couldn't stand up against something that was slowly becoming a conditioned response, especially while drugged. A hint of cherry blew past his ear warmly, the tones the same liquid heat ones of before, "Your family is dead, Quatre. Raiders of another tribe overtook the city. That's why your friends are here. You belong to me, me and only me."
There were more questions that sat on the tip of Quatre's tongue, more refusals to give to that simple statement. All were lost for the time being as the darkness closed in on him once more, sleep claiming him again.
**
Flickering torchlight played across copper toned skin, something that Quatre's mind was slow to accept still. Raising his hands to clear the hair out of his eyes, a dull surprise accompanied finding them bound together with plush strands of cloth. Another layer of cloth lay under his bonds, protecting the still healing skin he had ripped with his cuffs from taking further injury. Silence filled the room, a place he finally recognized as his captor's bedchambers. With no moonlight penetrating the caves that the Abydians inhabited, he could only guess at times. From the lack of activity, he thought it must have been well after midnight. Stretching out, the warmth of another body pressed against his own registered.
Turning his head, Quatre found himself nearly nose to nose with the sleeping visage of Heero. Strands of dark brown hair clung to the other's forehead, lying partially over his closed eyes. The shifting illumination of fire gave the desert warrior's skin a soft glow, making an illusion of softness where Quatre knew none dwelled. Soft things didn't live long in their lands. Shy fingers lifted to slide along the curve of Heero's cheek. A pause came in their trail as Quatre's own mind questioned him on just what he thought he was doing. This was his enemy, wasn't it? This was the devil that had kidnapped him from his own bed, locked him in chains, and taken away his freedom. Opium slurred his logic still, giving his hand permission to continue following their path.
Even the wind chapped redness of Heero's lips attracted his wandering fingers, a delicate line drawn over them. Sluggish surprise came as those lips parted, a tongue wrapping about his fingertip and drawing it in. Hands slid up Quatre's bare back, leaving blazing trails in their wake. Sapphire eyes fastened on the Arab's own of sky blue as the wet muscle of the Abydian's tongue rolled across the pad of his finger, suckling softly on it before releasing. Quatre's breath caught in his throat as he felt himself pulled closer, Heero's lips descending on his own to swallow any protests that might have been coming.
Fingers tangled in Quatre's hair as Heero plundered his slave's mouth, tasting him for the first time. He wasn't about to question what had prompted the blonde into touching him, at least not right now. All that mattered was that he had awoken from a scorching dream of Quatre in the nude to find the real thing stroking his face. Part of him wondered if he was still trapped in that fantasy.
A moan slid from Quatre's lips as Heero finished tasting the other's mouth, licking away the last traces of a spiced flavour that was uniquely the blonde's own. A hand tangled in the mess of blonde locks, tilting the other's head back as his lips continued their path. Rolling the slender male onto his back was easy, something that Quatre seemed to comply with readily. Lust flashed across his senses as he felt his slave's mouth move across his throat and shoulder, kisses pressed to his skin. It was his turn to groan as he rolled his hips, the erection that had already been plaguing him from the dream version of Quatre pressing against the body beneath his. Nimble fingers pulled at the ankle length robe that Quatre wore, shoving it aside to expose more of what he was now claiming as his own territory. Zechs' words from earlier about making him a mate versus one in bondage flew from Heero's mind, a grim determination rising in that he would conquer the blonde, would make him completely his own, and would shape his will. Quatre was his and no one else's. The mewing cries coming from the Arab told him that the other's body had already surrendered.
Fingers pressed against Quatre's lips, demanding entrance. The unsureness in those cerulean orbs told Heero all he needed to know about the blonde's lack of experience, something that sent a hot thrill straight to his groin. He would be this one's first. As the wet heat of Quatre's mouth engulfed his fingers, he bit back a groan. His own mouth fell to feasting on a dusky nipple, teasing it to a pebbled hardness with skill gained in the numerous brothels of surrounding cities. Teeth brushed against his fingers, something he allowed for now and half expected. He could teach all lessons that needed to be between the sheets.
Drawing his fingers away, Heero gently nudged Quatre, bringing him to his knees. A sweep of his arm drew Quatre onto his lap, the other's back against his chest. The thin tremours of fright that wound down Quatre's spine was quickly soothed away with hungry kisses; each delectable inch of firelight soaked flesh that he touched was his own. His free hand slid down to the blonde's thighs, parting them with a gentle touch. Curling his fingers about the half hard length he found, his thumb rolled across the head, prompting another impassioned cry from his slave. As he did so, his wettened fingers traced the cleft of the blonde's bottom, gently circling the rosebud pucker he found there.
A tenseness tried to invade Quatre's body as Heero's fingertips began to probe that virgin space, something the Abydian expected. Curling his hand about the slender length trapped within the cage of his fingers, he began stroking gently, needing something to remove the other's mind from what he was doing. When Quatre's hips arched up to meet his stroking hand, one fingertip slid within the other. He would have preferred oil as a lubricant, but the heat of the moment left him with only what he had. At Quatre's pained whisper, his lips brushed the blonde's ear, murmuring words of encouragement even as he gently stroked his erection. Gradually, the tenseness dissipated, and Heero slid a second fingertip into him, widening the passage slowly.
As he thrust shallowly with them, Quatre thrashed and cried out in pleasure, Heero's quick eyes observing the side of the other's face. Eyes rolled back as he began rocking on Heero's fingers, the torchlight playing across the beads of sweat that were forming on their skins. Finding that spot again, a third was finally added, brushing against it for distraction. The sounds falling from Quatre's lips burnt him, each one bearing a pleading note that made him want to throw aside any preparation and thrust in as hard as he could. Reining in his own desires, he finally withdrew his hands and positioned himself.
It was slow work lowering Quatre onto his lap, nearly brining insanity about in him with the tightness he was being forced into at that leisurely rate. By the time he was fully buried within the panting blonde, he felt as if his heart would burst. One of Quatre's hands snaked back to dig small nails into his own buttock, half moon forming beneath each tip. The other rose up to tangle in Heero's hair, forcing his lips down to the inviting expanse of the Arab's shoulder. Withdrawing slowly, he thrust back within, teeth marking the skin beneath. His… his… his… was the litany repeated through his mind.
Heero's hands clamped down on the narrow hips before him, each meeting of their flesh bringing him breaths closer to completion. What had begun as soft pleas from Quatre were becoming an endless string of breathless cries, his hips twisting to try to get Heero's hands back on his needy erection. Leaving a reddish mark wherever his teeth descended, the Abydian finally took mercy on him, closing a sweat slick hand about him. Pumping quickly, his own blood surged, pulling the blonde to him as tightly as he could. The world exploded around him in a sheet of white as jets of semen left him, climax robbing him of coherent thought. Wetness splashed across his fingers as Quatre quickly followed, the Arab's nails digging into his scalp and backside. Holding the slender body in his lap as his mind and body slowly came back under his control, Heero's hand reached for the thin blanket, pulling it up around them. Lying kisses along the skin that he had marked to soothe it, his cheek rested against the mass of curls.
"Mine," he murmured as sleep crept up on him.
**
"You really shouldn't be peeking on that," a voice whispered beside Sally, the hand wrapping over her mouth the only thing to keep her from crying out in surprise.
Turning her head, she met the too amused liquid silver gaze of Zechs himself. Pushing his hand away, she snorted softly, "Well, it wasn't as if they were exactly being quiet. I thought they might be fighting again."
Zechs nodded, his eyes never losing that dancing mischievous light, "Hai, I thought the same when I heard it. I think most of the tribe heard them, including our visitors. The Chinaman, Wufei, is outside calming down Shinigami."
Sally sighed softly, backing the two of them away from the flap of Heero's door where they had been crouched. "I know. I saw Duo start for the door, and Wufei stop him. They saw as well. Wufei is trying to convince him that it's mutual, but I don't think he's buying that idea."
"It certainly looked and sounded mutual to me," Zechs smirked.
A small fist popped the chieftain on the shoulder as Sally scowled. "We need to remind Heero tomorrow that some of us like to sleep at night. Do you think this means that Quatre has finally accepted him?"
"No. I think this means that Heero caught him when he was too drugged to resist… or he caught Heero when he couldn't. One or the other. It's too early for either to have accepted their roles completely. Let's just hope that since Quatre has his… erm… strength back, that he doesn't kick Heero out of that room again after nearly choking him to death."
A grin flickered across Sally's face at that memory of the falsely frail seeming blonde sending one of their best warriors tumbling out of his own quarters repeatedly, not to mention herself. "Good night, Zechs. Are you going to talk to Wufei and the rest of his band tomorrow? About joining the tribe? They don't have anywhere else to go…"
Zechs paused as he lifted the flap to his own room, a thoughtfulness lingering in his platinum eyes. "I trust your judgment on that thought, Sally. I will speak to Wufei on it, yes. I am still not sure about Shinigami."
She nodded softly, heading for her own quarters, "I know. Give him time. They all need that, and for the moment we have it."
With the two tribal elders retiring for the night, a pair of eyes opened across the room from under one of the blankets left lying about the fire. Firelight glinted on the cold expanse of dark brown eyes. A hint of an equally cold smile slip over Une's lips as she moved to her own chambers, plots forming.
Author: Zoisite NightDragon
Pairing:1x4/4x1, 3x5 (it's weird, but it works. I hope *crosses fingers*) ... Duo will probably pop up with one eventually.
Warnings: I hate doing warnings. Decide for yourself. It'll get lemony (of course) and there will be some angst and other common themes. AU is a definite. Language as well. Domination, bondage, submission themes as well ahead. If this sort of thing isn't what you like to read, then I'd suggest stopping now. You have been warned. The Abydians are a tribe I just made up. I had no idea if it's even an actual word.
Thanks so much to everyone who has taken the time to read and review this work. I know it's been slow going at times, but the whole plot has finally cemented itself in my head.
**
"Shinigami has come for you!"
Those words rang through the caves as Duo met the first of the raiders one on one. The downward sweep of his scythe was stopped short by a sword, sparks kicking up along the two meldings of metal. Behind him, the violet-eyed boy could hear Trowa and Wufei engaged in their own fights. Staggering backwards, Duo scowled blackly as the raider started driving him backwards. If they managed to push the trio back outside the cave's door, they might never get back inside. With how the Abydians had their fortress set up, they could hold off an army for weeks, much less three lone invaders.
Wufei's katana lashed through the air, throwing aside his opponent as he pressed forward. Quatre had to be in here somewhere. They had seen the two riders out on the plains, one of them being the boy that Quatre had nearly been killed by the day he was kidnapped. That had been a month ago. While Wufei had no idea that the blonde had spent almost the entire month sick, he did know that the longer the boy was with the raiders, the harder it was going to be to get him back. Lunging forward, surprise flashed across his face as his blade met that of Sally Po's. The same shock was on her own face, the woman turning to shout to the other Abydians. Slowly, the scuffles came to a halt.
"Wuffers! It's good to see you," she crowed, a smirking smile settling itself on her lips.
"Did she just call you Wuffers?" Duo asked curiously, his Chinese being bad, but that word needing no translating.
Wufei sighed and ignored the self proclaimed God of Death for the moment, focusing more on the woman. Folding his hands before him, he bowed shortly to her, a sign of respect for her more than tradition. "We had thought you long dead, Po."
Sally laughed softly, shaking her head and sheathing her sword. The tribesmen and women about kept their blades bare still, warily watching the invaders. "Not dead, Wufei. Not dead. Just a change in location. I had heard you were in Sultan Al-Saud's company. What brings you out this far?"
A look passed among the three friends as Wufei's gaze moved to Trowa and Duo, a silent question lingering in them. A liar was not one of the things that Wufei was, and to lie to someone who had been a friend even if she had betrayed her tribe in a manner, was not something he was about to do. Two nods met him as he turned back to her. "We're seeking someone who was kidnapped from us, a friend. His name is Quatre."
A low sigh slipped from Sally's lips. She had already suspected that they had come looking for the boy that Heero had taken. The fact that Quatre spoke Chinese, even if it had been badly, wasn't something that she had forgotten. For the past month, the blonde had been in and out of consciousness, the fever wearing on him. He was showing signs of improving; coming awake for longer periods of time to eat what Heero offered him. A sorrow lingered on her face as she watched Wufei's face. "I thought as much when I heard him speak Chinese the first time."
"You cannot have him. He has been bound to one of my people, and he stays with us."
Zechs pushed through his own tribesmen as he reached the three invaders, his metallic eyes cold and calm. Within his hand was a sword that could easily cleave a man in two with weight alone, not to mention the strong arm that swung it. "Quatre is one of us. If you wish to take him, you must go through all of us."
Spoken first in flawless Chinese, the chieftain repeated it in the language of the Abydian people for them to understand. Nods came from all around as the warriors of the tribe lifted their own weapons, fully prepared to fight to the death for one of their own. Zechs himself stood at the ready, watching Duo over the flat of his blade. That was the one he considered to be the biggest threat. While most of the group had not been in the neighboring cities, Zechs had many times. While there, even he had heard of Shinigami and how dangerous he could be. It was hard to miss when old women forked the sign of the Evil Eye at the mere mention of the braided one's name.
Inky eyes flicked among those they were faced with, Wufei assuming command of their group for the moment. Finally, he sheathed his own sword and held out his bare hands towards both Sally and Zechs. "We wish to speak to him then, please."
Low murmurs of discussion passed between Sally and Zechs, both of their faces hard in the flickering torchlight that provided illumination within the caves. With visible reluctance, Zechs nodded, letting the woman go. With a grin to Wufei, Sally slipped back into one of the other caves from where they all were. Tense silence settled among all the warriors, Zechs still watching them all guardedly. He didn't earn the trust and leadership of his people by becoming lax when dealing with outsiders. "You shouldn't have came," he replied in Chinese to Wufei.
"We had to," Wufei murmured. "A sickness has spread among the city we came from. The people were dying and then the Marconians attacked. They killed the Sultan and have overtaken the city. Now they're dying too from this disease. Quatre's family has been destroyed between the two."
Zechs shook his head slowly, gathering in this information. The blonde had been of a high status within the Sultan's city judging from all the gems he had worn as well as the colours he had been clothed in. Only the Sultan's family or the richest wore purple in the desert. If Wufei were to be believed, then everything that Quatre had possessed before was now wiped out. Money, family, and status were gone. The boy really had nowhere else to go than with them. "Then you should leave him here with us in peace. We're his family now."
Duo nudged Wufei, his eyes fixed still on Zechs. Whoever this white haired man was, he seemed to be the leader of the group, and Shinigami's natural curiosity was aroused. "What's he saying?"
The Chinese male resisted the urge to unsheathe his blade and jab at Duo for the interruption. Switching back to the language they understood, Wufei tried to keep his composure. "He says that Quatre is now part of their tribe and that they're responsible for him, especially with his family dying."
Leave it to Wufei to cut out all the other points made such as Heero kidnapping their friend.
Duo frowned, glancing between Zechs and Wufei. "Wait… wait… this guy's friend goes off and kidnaps Quatre and we're supposed to just accept it and move on? What kind of bullshit is that? Quatre is one of us! I swore to Iria I'd protect him."
A sibilant murmur passed among the waiting tribespeople as Duo's voice began to take on a ragged and angry edge, hands stealing back to weapons to be ready. Wufei ignored it all as best he could, hands folded before him still as he spoke, calmness wrapped about each word, "We can do nothing for Quatre if we are dead, Duo. Make no mistake about it that if we try to charge them right now with just the three of us that they will cut us down without a second thought. The sun will set on our bodies left out for the vultures to peck at. We cannot win right now."
The cold silver blue of Zechs' eyes slid among the three men as he waited. Wufei was the intelligence of them to him. Duo was the force. Trowa… he wasn't sure there, but catching a glimpse of the silver collar locked about his throat told Zechs that Trowa would die for one of the other two without a second thought. That wasn't altogether comforting knowledge. Still, they had numbers on the three, and even the most seasoned of warriors couldn't face an entire tribe alone. A murmur passed among those behind them as they parted to allow others through.
Heero stalked through the crowd with the wary grace of a panther on the prowl. Cold sapphire eyes glinted beneath the chestnut lashes, flickering to the three before hardening. Within his arms rested Quatre, the blonde's arms looped loosely around his neck. With the Arab still too weak to walk, Heero had argued with Sally for allowing this, but had seen the intelligence of bringing the blonde to them versus letting them come to him. Keeping the invaders out of the main hive of the caves was paramount. Shifting Quatre in his arms, he stroked one pale cheek with his fingertips, speaking softly to try to rouse the half-conscious male.
A sparkle of aquamarine glinted in the torchlight as Quatre slowly opened his eyes. Resting his head against Heero's shoulder, his mind was sluggish to begin to recognize his surrounds. The scent of cherry and wintergreen that accompanied the Abydian had become a welcome one in the past month regardless of the mix of emotions that it drew forth. It had come to mean safety, that he wasn't alone in the times when the disease wracked him. Whether he was starting to accept Heero or was simply too weary to fight right now still remained to be seen.
"Quatre?"
Duo's voice stirred his consciousness, prompting the Arab to sleepily lift his head from Heero's shoulder. A dazed smile spread across his face, a hand loosening from about the raider to reach unsteadily towards the violet-eyed friend of his. "Duo," he murmured softly, the word nearly lost in a yawn.
Sharpened steel pointed directly between his eyes stopped Duo's forward move to snatch Quatre from the other's grip. The tip of Zechs sword sat unwaveringly before Shinigami, daring him to complete that motion for the punishment of impalement.
"Step back, now," the tribal leader stated flatly.
Translating as he tugged Duo back, Wufei could feel every muscle of his friend's body tight with anger. Murmuring soft words of calmness in their own language, he hoped that Duo didn't try to continue his charge. Quatre wasn't well enough to help them or him from the looks. Dark shadows clung about the Arab's eyes, the glints of blue peering blurrily from hollows. A sickly paleness had settled in his skin, showing that he hadn't been up and around for a time. Thinner than Wufei remembered, that wasn't what disturbed the Chinese male the most about Quatre. What needled him was the weak manner in which the blonde allowed Heero to pull back his outstretched hand to once more rest against the Abydian's shoulder. Inky eyes studied the still bandaged patches about Quatre's wrists where bands would have laid; dropping instantly to the slender ankles that still bore their metal restraints. Seeing those plunged Wufei's stomache down to his feet. When told that Quatre had been taken as someone's mate, he hadn't thought of slavery. What was already complicated had now become more so. In the city desert lands which were ruled by sultans, to have been in slavery once was to be one always, regardless of whether it was forced on one or wanted. Spying the tattoos on the backs of Quatre's hands brought more dismay. There was no doubt that his friend was property versus an equal mate.
"We have to make them let him go, Wufei," Duo whispered beside him, seeing the marks and bands as well.
"We can't," Wufei murmured in reply. "We can't 'make' them do much of anything. In case you have failed to notice, we are currently outnumbered, outmatched, and outdone on the whole."
Low conversing began between Sally and Zechs, the two muttering in the harsh, guttural tones that the Abydians used. A brooding silence sprung between the two as one tried to stare the other down. Sally was the first to break, lowering her eyes and pleading in a quiet voice. With one last snapping glare at the intruders, Zechs growled out a reply that brought a hint of a smile back to her.
Sweeping his pristine hair over one shoulder, the Abydian chief stepped forward to study the three up close. Folding his arms, he sighed and began once more in Chinese, "Provided that all of you relinquish your weapons, I am willing to provide you with our hospitality for the night seeing as how you have no city to go to as well as to allow you time to visit Heero's mate if he allows it."
As Wufei translated the words to Duo and Trowa, he cautiously watched their faces. This was not going to be pretty. Duo's expression was strained; fury at their helplessness and anger at being forced into this the most prominent. Trowa's was calm as always, thoughts that no one could fathom running behind the emerald shield of his gaze. With a scowl, Duo set aside his beloved scythe, folding his arms over his chest. Trowa followed suit with more grace, removing his claws and laying them beside his friend's weapon. Giving Sally one last glance to be sure of intentions, Wufei slid his katana back into its sheath and laid it alongside the scythe.
**
Two hours later, they were all seated about the fire with Sally patiently translating everything said to Wufei who could in turn tell Duo and Trowa what was going on. Any words he spoke were lost on Duo, the self-proclaimed god of Death's eyes fixed on the barely lucid form of Quatre. The blonde still sat on Heero's lap, his movements languidly slow. Duo had watched Sally check on him occasionally, giving him some sort of liquid to swallow. According to Wufei, it was medication against some sickness he had contracted since coming here. Judging from how glazy his friend's eyes were as well as how slow he was to respond, Duo was willing to bet that there was some sort of opium within it.
Anger still burnt in his mind and heart against these people. It increased everytime he watched Heero lift a crude cup of broth to Quatre's lips to try to get him to drink. Who were they to simply take his friend and declare him a slave? Who were they to destroy freedom? Did they know anything about the person they had stolen besides the fact that he was beautiful? Tightening his hand into a fist beneath the table, Duo's gaze moved back to Wufei, trying to concentrate on what was being said. Quatre's life might depend on it.
**
A soft touch was laid across Quatre's lips, prompting him to part them for more warmed broth. Swallowing the mouthful, the Arab yawned softly, wanting to go back to sleep for a time. He was dimly aware of the fact that the Abydian raider was holding him, soothing his hurts at present. Duo's and Wufei's voices were heard somewhere in the background, lending a false sense of security. Right now, nothing much mattered to him, the world filled with a pleasant haze.
"Come on, little one. Just another mouthful, and then you can sleep," a chocolate warm voice murmured beside his ear.
Letting the hot liquid trail across his tongue and down his throat, Quatre raised a hand to weakly push away anymore spoonfuls that were headed for him. He'd heard the 'just one more' line too many times. A muted thunk filtered into his consciousness as the earthen bowl was finally set aside, a line of heat tracing along his side as Heero's arm once more wound about him. Drugged eyes fixed on the startlingly deep blues of the raider's own as Quatre tried to focus on the other man. Anger was absent for now, only a vapid curiosity nagging at his mind. "Why?"
Heero's head tilted as calloused fingers swept along Quatre's cheek, sweeping back a few of his sweat soaked locks of sunny hair. "Why what?"
Words came slowly through the fog on Quatre's mind; senses dulled by the clear fluid that the tribe's healer kept insisting he occasionally drink. "Why me? Why are you… making me stay? I want to go home," he murmured petulantly.
Soft laughter bubbled up in the chest that Quatre's ear rested again, going unheard by those about the fire. Amusement tainted the secret smile that tugged at the edges of Heero's lips as he watched Quatre struggle through his words. "Why? Because I wanted you when I'd wanted nothing else in this world. You can't go home. I don't think you realize that yet."
Quatre tried to will his muscles to move, to try to summon up anger to lash out. All that he could manage was a childish surge of upset, the same that he had experienced when very small and being denied a sweet he'd wanted. The logical part of his mind insisted that it was the medicine's fault while the dreaming half didn't care. It was better than alternating periods of terror at being taken from his home to violent rage for being a prisoner. "Why can't I? I want my sisters. I want my life. I don't want to be this…"
A gentle hand slid through Quatre's hair once more, soothing him. It was the same reassuring touch that he had felt during his sickness when shakings had wracked him or the pain in his body had reached a crescendo. Upset couldn't stand up against something that was slowly becoming a conditioned response, especially while drugged. A hint of cherry blew past his ear warmly, the tones the same liquid heat ones of before, "Your family is dead, Quatre. Raiders of another tribe overtook the city. That's why your friends are here. You belong to me, me and only me."
There were more questions that sat on the tip of Quatre's tongue, more refusals to give to that simple statement. All were lost for the time being as the darkness closed in on him once more, sleep claiming him again.
**
Flickering torchlight played across copper toned skin, something that Quatre's mind was slow to accept still. Raising his hands to clear the hair out of his eyes, a dull surprise accompanied finding them bound together with plush strands of cloth. Another layer of cloth lay under his bonds, protecting the still healing skin he had ripped with his cuffs from taking further injury. Silence filled the room, a place he finally recognized as his captor's bedchambers. With no moonlight penetrating the caves that the Abydians inhabited, he could only guess at times. From the lack of activity, he thought it must have been well after midnight. Stretching out, the warmth of another body pressed against his own registered.
Turning his head, Quatre found himself nearly nose to nose with the sleeping visage of Heero. Strands of dark brown hair clung to the other's forehead, lying partially over his closed eyes. The shifting illumination of fire gave the desert warrior's skin a soft glow, making an illusion of softness where Quatre knew none dwelled. Soft things didn't live long in their lands. Shy fingers lifted to slide along the curve of Heero's cheek. A pause came in their trail as Quatre's own mind questioned him on just what he thought he was doing. This was his enemy, wasn't it? This was the devil that had kidnapped him from his own bed, locked him in chains, and taken away his freedom. Opium slurred his logic still, giving his hand permission to continue following their path.
Even the wind chapped redness of Heero's lips attracted his wandering fingers, a delicate line drawn over them. Sluggish surprise came as those lips parted, a tongue wrapping about his fingertip and drawing it in. Hands slid up Quatre's bare back, leaving blazing trails in their wake. Sapphire eyes fastened on the Arab's own of sky blue as the wet muscle of the Abydian's tongue rolled across the pad of his finger, suckling softly on it before releasing. Quatre's breath caught in his throat as he felt himself pulled closer, Heero's lips descending on his own to swallow any protests that might have been coming.
Fingers tangled in Quatre's hair as Heero plundered his slave's mouth, tasting him for the first time. He wasn't about to question what had prompted the blonde into touching him, at least not right now. All that mattered was that he had awoken from a scorching dream of Quatre in the nude to find the real thing stroking his face. Part of him wondered if he was still trapped in that fantasy.
A moan slid from Quatre's lips as Heero finished tasting the other's mouth, licking away the last traces of a spiced flavour that was uniquely the blonde's own. A hand tangled in the mess of blonde locks, tilting the other's head back as his lips continued their path. Rolling the slender male onto his back was easy, something that Quatre seemed to comply with readily. Lust flashed across his senses as he felt his slave's mouth move across his throat and shoulder, kisses pressed to his skin. It was his turn to groan as he rolled his hips, the erection that had already been plaguing him from the dream version of Quatre pressing against the body beneath his. Nimble fingers pulled at the ankle length robe that Quatre wore, shoving it aside to expose more of what he was now claiming as his own territory. Zechs' words from earlier about making him a mate versus one in bondage flew from Heero's mind, a grim determination rising in that he would conquer the blonde, would make him completely his own, and would shape his will. Quatre was his and no one else's. The mewing cries coming from the Arab told him that the other's body had already surrendered.
Fingers pressed against Quatre's lips, demanding entrance. The unsureness in those cerulean orbs told Heero all he needed to know about the blonde's lack of experience, something that sent a hot thrill straight to his groin. He would be this one's first. As the wet heat of Quatre's mouth engulfed his fingers, he bit back a groan. His own mouth fell to feasting on a dusky nipple, teasing it to a pebbled hardness with skill gained in the numerous brothels of surrounding cities. Teeth brushed against his fingers, something he allowed for now and half expected. He could teach all lessons that needed to be between the sheets.
Drawing his fingers away, Heero gently nudged Quatre, bringing him to his knees. A sweep of his arm drew Quatre onto his lap, the other's back against his chest. The thin tremours of fright that wound down Quatre's spine was quickly soothed away with hungry kisses; each delectable inch of firelight soaked flesh that he touched was his own. His free hand slid down to the blonde's thighs, parting them with a gentle touch. Curling his fingers about the half hard length he found, his thumb rolled across the head, prompting another impassioned cry from his slave. As he did so, his wettened fingers traced the cleft of the blonde's bottom, gently circling the rosebud pucker he found there.
A tenseness tried to invade Quatre's body as Heero's fingertips began to probe that virgin space, something the Abydian expected. Curling his hand about the slender length trapped within the cage of his fingers, he began stroking gently, needing something to remove the other's mind from what he was doing. When Quatre's hips arched up to meet his stroking hand, one fingertip slid within the other. He would have preferred oil as a lubricant, but the heat of the moment left him with only what he had. At Quatre's pained whisper, his lips brushed the blonde's ear, murmuring words of encouragement even as he gently stroked his erection. Gradually, the tenseness dissipated, and Heero slid a second fingertip into him, widening the passage slowly.
As he thrust shallowly with them, Quatre thrashed and cried out in pleasure, Heero's quick eyes observing the side of the other's face. Eyes rolled back as he began rocking on Heero's fingers, the torchlight playing across the beads of sweat that were forming on their skins. Finding that spot again, a third was finally added, brushing against it for distraction. The sounds falling from Quatre's lips burnt him, each one bearing a pleading note that made him want to throw aside any preparation and thrust in as hard as he could. Reining in his own desires, he finally withdrew his hands and positioned himself.
It was slow work lowering Quatre onto his lap, nearly brining insanity about in him with the tightness he was being forced into at that leisurely rate. By the time he was fully buried within the panting blonde, he felt as if his heart would burst. One of Quatre's hands snaked back to dig small nails into his own buttock, half moon forming beneath each tip. The other rose up to tangle in Heero's hair, forcing his lips down to the inviting expanse of the Arab's shoulder. Withdrawing slowly, he thrust back within, teeth marking the skin beneath. His… his… his… was the litany repeated through his mind.
Heero's hands clamped down on the narrow hips before him, each meeting of their flesh bringing him breaths closer to completion. What had begun as soft pleas from Quatre were becoming an endless string of breathless cries, his hips twisting to try to get Heero's hands back on his needy erection. Leaving a reddish mark wherever his teeth descended, the Abydian finally took mercy on him, closing a sweat slick hand about him. Pumping quickly, his own blood surged, pulling the blonde to him as tightly as he could. The world exploded around him in a sheet of white as jets of semen left him, climax robbing him of coherent thought. Wetness splashed across his fingers as Quatre quickly followed, the Arab's nails digging into his scalp and backside. Holding the slender body in his lap as his mind and body slowly came back under his control, Heero's hand reached for the thin blanket, pulling it up around them. Lying kisses along the skin that he had marked to soothe it, his cheek rested against the mass of curls.
"Mine," he murmured as sleep crept up on him.
**
"You really shouldn't be peeking on that," a voice whispered beside Sally, the hand wrapping over her mouth the only thing to keep her from crying out in surprise.
Turning her head, she met the too amused liquid silver gaze of Zechs himself. Pushing his hand away, she snorted softly, "Well, it wasn't as if they were exactly being quiet. I thought they might be fighting again."
Zechs nodded, his eyes never losing that dancing mischievous light, "Hai, I thought the same when I heard it. I think most of the tribe heard them, including our visitors. The Chinaman, Wufei, is outside calming down Shinigami."
Sally sighed softly, backing the two of them away from the flap of Heero's door where they had been crouched. "I know. I saw Duo start for the door, and Wufei stop him. They saw as well. Wufei is trying to convince him that it's mutual, but I don't think he's buying that idea."
"It certainly looked and sounded mutual to me," Zechs smirked.
A small fist popped the chieftain on the shoulder as Sally scowled. "We need to remind Heero tomorrow that some of us like to sleep at night. Do you think this means that Quatre has finally accepted him?"
"No. I think this means that Heero caught him when he was too drugged to resist… or he caught Heero when he couldn't. One or the other. It's too early for either to have accepted their roles completely. Let's just hope that since Quatre has his… erm… strength back, that he doesn't kick Heero out of that room again after nearly choking him to death."
A grin flickered across Sally's face at that memory of the falsely frail seeming blonde sending one of their best warriors tumbling out of his own quarters repeatedly, not to mention herself. "Good night, Zechs. Are you going to talk to Wufei and the rest of his band tomorrow? About joining the tribe? They don't have anywhere else to go…"
Zechs paused as he lifted the flap to his own room, a thoughtfulness lingering in his platinum eyes. "I trust your judgment on that thought, Sally. I will speak to Wufei on it, yes. I am still not sure about Shinigami."
She nodded softly, heading for her own quarters, "I know. Give him time. They all need that, and for the moment we have it."
With the two tribal elders retiring for the night, a pair of eyes opened across the room from under one of the blankets left lying about the fire. Firelight glinted on the cold expanse of dark brown eyes. A hint of an equally cold smile slip over Une's lips as she moved to her own chambers, plots forming.