The castle buzzed with the news of the envoy/Prince's poisoning, but the
bigger buzz was on the rumor that the prince's priest called for the town
alchemist instead of the royal alchemist. Secret passages twisted through
the castle from opposite ends, and the royal siblings of the disputed
estates were currently glaring at each other over a table with two tapers
burning dimly in the oppressing stone room.
"He's not dead."
Milliardo nodded and stared at the ancient wood-grains of the desk, idly picking at a splinter with the tip of fine white gloves. "He will be soon enough. There was enough poison on that food to kill a kingdom." "In a manner of speaking, it will." Relena leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers with a cold grin. "That is, if he dies."
****
Quatre's breathing was still shallow and pained, as though a thousand pounds rested on the small boy's chest. Tears streamed down his cheeks as his glassy eyes fluttered and rolled, the thin pale lips trembling as he fought for words that never came out. Trowa sat on the side of the bed, the terror and anguish in his eyes betraying his stoic features. WuFei stood by the door, hiding his emotion in a similar manner despite the fact that he was tearing himself apart inside. How could he have let this happen? It was his duty to guard Quatre with his life....why hadn't he known this would happen?
The ancient alchemist sighed and held up the antidote he'd been mixing. The muddy-brown liquid matched his tattered robes and he squinted at the world from behind thick glasses as he pressed the bottle into Trowa's clammy hands. "This is all I can do. The poison isn't all that complicated; I'm afraid it's the sheer dosage that may prove the end of him."
Granting the alchemist a generous pay along with an understanding nod, Trowa pulled the sealing wax from the tube and tilted to the young prince's lips. As the withered man shuffled his way from the castle seething WuFei exploded, slamming his fist against the wall with a sickening crackle of tiny knuckle bones.
"This is my fault! How could I have been careless enough to let this happen!?"
"All things happen of their own accord; every wrong has it's counterweight right," was the quiet response as the priest tipped the last few drops between the pale lips which continued to move soundlessly with the occasional gurgled sputter from the bitter drink. Trowa's voice lowered as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the sweating forehead. "Return." He sat back up, the dull green eyes never leaving the now painfully writhing boy as he spoke to WuFei once more. "Go and check on Heero. I will stay with him."
WuFei looked as though he desperately wanted to protest, but after a few seconds of internal struggle he finally left the room, stalking down the hall towards Heero's room.
****
~It hurts....my heart hurts....inside and out; what's wrong? If I'm dying, please just let me die and end this pain....~
Everything was red; searing pain and fatigue. His entire body was numb with cold as he found the crimson landscape streaking past his vision, unrecognizable and fleeting. His body shuddered, then fell.....then once more came the painful light as his body was seized and shaken violently...............
"Heero, wake up! Heero!"
Dull and clouded blue eyes opened reluctantly with a disoriented sputter. He was sat up and steadied by WuFei who was sitting next to him, glaring at him with concern rimming his gaze. "You were having a nightmare again. What was it?"
"I...I don't know...I was dying, I think. Everything was so cold...."
Nodding, WuFei pulled the blanket up around Heero's shoulders, which were indeed covered with chill bumps despite the warm summer night. "You kept clutching your chest, you....your..." Wife's voice trailed off as he peered at the front of the white cotton shirt Heero wore. There was a tiny speck of red there....
Following his gaze down, Heero's shaking hands pulled up the shirt to reveal a thin slit down the center of his chest about 3 inches long, but barely a cat-scratch in width and depth. Confusion twisted the young warrior's face and he looked up at WuFei who shook his head slowly, his mind turning through loops and twists for logical answers. "You...kept clutching you chest. You must have scratched yourself, is all." After one of the usual moment of silence, he laid a hand on Heero's shoulder gently. "Do you want something to eat?"
"No..I...." Then he perked, eyes widening. "Quatre?!"
"He's been poisoned, but we've done all we can and now all we can do is wait." A rare smile was given by the Chinese boy. "I'm sure he'll survive; he's stronger than all of us put together." Maneuvering Heero back into the bed, he nodded. "Now, you rest. I'll tell Trowa everything is fine; he just wanted me to check on you. You have to get rest; you haven't slept in over a week."
"S'the dreams..." Heero muttered as he was laid back down, his eyes fixed on some spot past the ceiling, off in space.
"They're only dreams; only the weak let their minds be controlled by dreams which mean nothing," was Wife's only reply as he slipped back out the door, leaving Heero to the nightmares.
~Hours...hours....so cold. My heart hurts, my stomach hurts, everything is nothing but pain.~ It was intense now; almost unbearable. He wanted nothing more than to curl up and die on the spot. Muscles ached and shuddered with fatigue as agony seared through his chest and stomach. Everything was still red, though now it was darker, dimmer. He could see something ahead; some building, a huge building....a castle....almost there. Somehow a moment of release from the pain was felt, but it was gone - like a glimmer of hope. ~That's it...in the castle...that's what I need. Stop the nightmares, stop the pain...~ So close....he managed to climb in through one of the slim windows and found himself floundering through the halls mindlessly, every inch of his body burning as he leaned against the wall; there was a door there, shining with a silver aura against the dark scarlet of his vision. ~Whatever I need...that's it...the pain will stop....wait.....~ Thoughts flickered; above the door was an insignia of two rampant stags arching a heart with a crown circling it.....then he collapsed, and the dream flickered out before he hit the floor....
Heero jerked upright in bed with a gasp as he tried to shake the latest vision from his mind, but a loud thud outside his door elicited a startled yelp and a panicked gaze. Sliding out of the bed slowly, he edged over and picked up his sword - which seemed to weigh far more than it ever had before - and jerked the door open, bringing the sword up defensively...
....to find a battered heap of black on the floor.
Gently nudging the still figure over with a foot, he choked out a startled cry and staggered back when he found the familiar pale face smiling up at him exhaustedly, the beautiful purple of his eyes dulled but still so entrancing. He strained to get up but collapsed again, coughing up a thin trickle of blackish blood before lying still once again, his gaze never leaving the terrified Heero only a few feet away. A delicate hand stretched out, trembling with effort, towards him....
The shaken warrior scrambled to his feet and backed away, and the thin hand fell, the glimmer fading from the amethyst eyes. For some reason this seemed to kick the warrior back to reality and he leaned down, scooping up the light boy with little effort. Laying him across the bed he pulled back the cloak, his stomach churning at the vision.
The hand that was outstretched to him was battered and covered with a blackish blood, splinters marring the silk-smooth skin of the fingers as though he'd had to claw his way free of some confines...as though he'd been buried alive, as fact enhanced by the black dirt and mud that caked the boys frame from head-to-toe. The second-skin leather was sliced open across the chest -
~I did that....I...I did.....~
- to reveal a mortally-wounding-deep gash three inches long but only a cat- scratch in width. A hand went reflexively to his own chest, where the superficial but very real cut stung.
The chestnut hair was still in it's braid, but only halfway. Thin, loose strands snaked around his neck and shoulders, plastered to his skin wherever they touched by sweat and dirt. The thin lips still moved slowly as they tried to whisper words, finally a faint, hoarse murmur escaping.
"...found....you....mine....."
Heero stammered somewhat, but found his hands reaching out to clean some of the caked mud and hair from around the boy's face gingerly, and he found his own eyes stinging with unfamiliar tears. "I shouldn't have done this...I...there are healers. I can -"
A frightened croak escaped from the boy and the delicate fingers clasped Heero's wrist tightly, so cold they almost burnt, so strong it seemed his wrist would break if he tried to pull free. "...not healer...you...please....."
He started to question the strange statement, but the boy cried out painfully and choked on another thin trickle of black blood - and it was then that Heero noticed for the first time. Beneath the pale lips were ivory daggers; slender, curved fangs on both the top and bottom jaws that would...would... Heero tensed and jerked at the grasping fingers on his wrist which was immediately released with a look of pained shock from the wounded boy. Duo whimpered softly and reached out for him again, the icy fingers lacing around Heero's as he struggled to sit up. "Please....."
The stone-faced glare picked up on Heero's face, but it couldn't seem to stay. Flickering uncertainly, Heero's hand reached up as though of it's own accord to rest against the cold cheek of the boy who nuzzled against it as though it were the only thing in his world, a complacent smile curving across the entrancing face. Unlacing his fingers, Heero's left hand reached behind Duo's back to raise him up as the right steadied his shoulders and he found himself clinging tightly to the cold, dirty body as though in a vain attempt to warm it. Fingers curled shakily through the tangled locks as his body jerked, convulsing once as slim fangs pierced his throat. He felt, distantly, the shudder in his muscles as the soft lips closed against his skin, then Heero felt nothing at all except a radiating cold so intense which slowly slipped into blissful warmth. As he drifted into the confines of unconsciousness he felt the dreams flickering at the edge of his mind, but the scarlet blurred vision was fading fast, and Heero slept peacefully for the first time in a week.
"He's not dead."
Milliardo nodded and stared at the ancient wood-grains of the desk, idly picking at a splinter with the tip of fine white gloves. "He will be soon enough. There was enough poison on that food to kill a kingdom." "In a manner of speaking, it will." Relena leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers with a cold grin. "That is, if he dies."
****
Quatre's breathing was still shallow and pained, as though a thousand pounds rested on the small boy's chest. Tears streamed down his cheeks as his glassy eyes fluttered and rolled, the thin pale lips trembling as he fought for words that never came out. Trowa sat on the side of the bed, the terror and anguish in his eyes betraying his stoic features. WuFei stood by the door, hiding his emotion in a similar manner despite the fact that he was tearing himself apart inside. How could he have let this happen? It was his duty to guard Quatre with his life....why hadn't he known this would happen?
The ancient alchemist sighed and held up the antidote he'd been mixing. The muddy-brown liquid matched his tattered robes and he squinted at the world from behind thick glasses as he pressed the bottle into Trowa's clammy hands. "This is all I can do. The poison isn't all that complicated; I'm afraid it's the sheer dosage that may prove the end of him."
Granting the alchemist a generous pay along with an understanding nod, Trowa pulled the sealing wax from the tube and tilted to the young prince's lips. As the withered man shuffled his way from the castle seething WuFei exploded, slamming his fist against the wall with a sickening crackle of tiny knuckle bones.
"This is my fault! How could I have been careless enough to let this happen!?"
"All things happen of their own accord; every wrong has it's counterweight right," was the quiet response as the priest tipped the last few drops between the pale lips which continued to move soundlessly with the occasional gurgled sputter from the bitter drink. Trowa's voice lowered as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the sweating forehead. "Return." He sat back up, the dull green eyes never leaving the now painfully writhing boy as he spoke to WuFei once more. "Go and check on Heero. I will stay with him."
WuFei looked as though he desperately wanted to protest, but after a few seconds of internal struggle he finally left the room, stalking down the hall towards Heero's room.
****
~It hurts....my heart hurts....inside and out; what's wrong? If I'm dying, please just let me die and end this pain....~
Everything was red; searing pain and fatigue. His entire body was numb with cold as he found the crimson landscape streaking past his vision, unrecognizable and fleeting. His body shuddered, then fell.....then once more came the painful light as his body was seized and shaken violently...............
"Heero, wake up! Heero!"
Dull and clouded blue eyes opened reluctantly with a disoriented sputter. He was sat up and steadied by WuFei who was sitting next to him, glaring at him with concern rimming his gaze. "You were having a nightmare again. What was it?"
"I...I don't know...I was dying, I think. Everything was so cold...."
Nodding, WuFei pulled the blanket up around Heero's shoulders, which were indeed covered with chill bumps despite the warm summer night. "You kept clutching your chest, you....your..." Wife's voice trailed off as he peered at the front of the white cotton shirt Heero wore. There was a tiny speck of red there....
Following his gaze down, Heero's shaking hands pulled up the shirt to reveal a thin slit down the center of his chest about 3 inches long, but barely a cat-scratch in width and depth. Confusion twisted the young warrior's face and he looked up at WuFei who shook his head slowly, his mind turning through loops and twists for logical answers. "You...kept clutching you chest. You must have scratched yourself, is all." After one of the usual moment of silence, he laid a hand on Heero's shoulder gently. "Do you want something to eat?"
"No..I...." Then he perked, eyes widening. "Quatre?!"
"He's been poisoned, but we've done all we can and now all we can do is wait." A rare smile was given by the Chinese boy. "I'm sure he'll survive; he's stronger than all of us put together." Maneuvering Heero back into the bed, he nodded. "Now, you rest. I'll tell Trowa everything is fine; he just wanted me to check on you. You have to get rest; you haven't slept in over a week."
"S'the dreams..." Heero muttered as he was laid back down, his eyes fixed on some spot past the ceiling, off in space.
"They're only dreams; only the weak let their minds be controlled by dreams which mean nothing," was Wife's only reply as he slipped back out the door, leaving Heero to the nightmares.
~Hours...hours....so cold. My heart hurts, my stomach hurts, everything is nothing but pain.~ It was intense now; almost unbearable. He wanted nothing more than to curl up and die on the spot. Muscles ached and shuddered with fatigue as agony seared through his chest and stomach. Everything was still red, though now it was darker, dimmer. He could see something ahead; some building, a huge building....a castle....almost there. Somehow a moment of release from the pain was felt, but it was gone - like a glimmer of hope. ~That's it...in the castle...that's what I need. Stop the nightmares, stop the pain...~ So close....he managed to climb in through one of the slim windows and found himself floundering through the halls mindlessly, every inch of his body burning as he leaned against the wall; there was a door there, shining with a silver aura against the dark scarlet of his vision. ~Whatever I need...that's it...the pain will stop....wait.....~ Thoughts flickered; above the door was an insignia of two rampant stags arching a heart with a crown circling it.....then he collapsed, and the dream flickered out before he hit the floor....
Heero jerked upright in bed with a gasp as he tried to shake the latest vision from his mind, but a loud thud outside his door elicited a startled yelp and a panicked gaze. Sliding out of the bed slowly, he edged over and picked up his sword - which seemed to weigh far more than it ever had before - and jerked the door open, bringing the sword up defensively...
....to find a battered heap of black on the floor.
Gently nudging the still figure over with a foot, he choked out a startled cry and staggered back when he found the familiar pale face smiling up at him exhaustedly, the beautiful purple of his eyes dulled but still so entrancing. He strained to get up but collapsed again, coughing up a thin trickle of blackish blood before lying still once again, his gaze never leaving the terrified Heero only a few feet away. A delicate hand stretched out, trembling with effort, towards him....
The shaken warrior scrambled to his feet and backed away, and the thin hand fell, the glimmer fading from the amethyst eyes. For some reason this seemed to kick the warrior back to reality and he leaned down, scooping up the light boy with little effort. Laying him across the bed he pulled back the cloak, his stomach churning at the vision.
The hand that was outstretched to him was battered and covered with a blackish blood, splinters marring the silk-smooth skin of the fingers as though he'd had to claw his way free of some confines...as though he'd been buried alive, as fact enhanced by the black dirt and mud that caked the boys frame from head-to-toe. The second-skin leather was sliced open across the chest -
~I did that....I...I did.....~
- to reveal a mortally-wounding-deep gash three inches long but only a cat- scratch in width. A hand went reflexively to his own chest, where the superficial but very real cut stung.
The chestnut hair was still in it's braid, but only halfway. Thin, loose strands snaked around his neck and shoulders, plastered to his skin wherever they touched by sweat and dirt. The thin lips still moved slowly as they tried to whisper words, finally a faint, hoarse murmur escaping.
"...found....you....mine....."
Heero stammered somewhat, but found his hands reaching out to clean some of the caked mud and hair from around the boy's face gingerly, and he found his own eyes stinging with unfamiliar tears. "I shouldn't have done this...I...there are healers. I can -"
A frightened croak escaped from the boy and the delicate fingers clasped Heero's wrist tightly, so cold they almost burnt, so strong it seemed his wrist would break if he tried to pull free. "...not healer...you...please....."
He started to question the strange statement, but the boy cried out painfully and choked on another thin trickle of black blood - and it was then that Heero noticed for the first time. Beneath the pale lips were ivory daggers; slender, curved fangs on both the top and bottom jaws that would...would... Heero tensed and jerked at the grasping fingers on his wrist which was immediately released with a look of pained shock from the wounded boy. Duo whimpered softly and reached out for him again, the icy fingers lacing around Heero's as he struggled to sit up. "Please....."
The stone-faced glare picked up on Heero's face, but it couldn't seem to stay. Flickering uncertainly, Heero's hand reached up as though of it's own accord to rest against the cold cheek of the boy who nuzzled against it as though it were the only thing in his world, a complacent smile curving across the entrancing face. Unlacing his fingers, Heero's left hand reached behind Duo's back to raise him up as the right steadied his shoulders and he found himself clinging tightly to the cold, dirty body as though in a vain attempt to warm it. Fingers curled shakily through the tangled locks as his body jerked, convulsing once as slim fangs pierced his throat. He felt, distantly, the shudder in his muscles as the soft lips closed against his skin, then Heero felt nothing at all except a radiating cold so intense which slowly slipped into blissful warmth. As he drifted into the confines of unconsciousness he felt the dreams flickering at the edge of his mind, but the scarlet blurred vision was fading fast, and Heero slept peacefully for the first time in a week.