CinderQuatre
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Wish I did but what can we do? Gundam Wing has so much more yaoi potential.
Warning: shounen ai, twisted version of one of my fav. Fairytales, OOC,
Summary: A twisted version of Cinderella with Quatre staring in the place of Cinderella and Trowa instead of our prince.
~*~*~
"Quatre! Get the door!"
The blonde sighed as he wiped his hands on already filthy trousers. He'd been in the middle of dusting every figurine, plaque, picture frame and fixture the Winner House possessed. The door just happened to be at the opposite side of the house which meant a wild dash, else the visitor leave thinking the house was empty.
And as he raced through the halls he wondered bitterly why one of the girls couldn't have done this. They were taking music lessons and the music room just happened to be on the same side of the house as the door. But of course that would mean doing something for themselves. Heaven forbid they should chip a nail.
Quatre wiped at his grimy face, hoping he didn't look too filthy. It was one thing to look this way around his stepmother and stepsisters, but quite another when around others. He was the only son of Duke Raymond Winner. He had been taught to always look presentable in the company of guests. Of course, he'd been taught many things as a child, which now seemed useless. He'd never have great parties, visit dignitaries or court some nobles daughter (not that he really wanted to - but that wasn't the point!) These things that had seemed to roll out before him had been snatched away from him the moment his father had dies, and Lady Une left with running of all Winner affairs. At the age of nine, Quatre had been made a slave in a household, which should have rightfully been his.
The echoing knock came again, this time more insistent, causing little Quatre to nearly trip over his own feet. He was flushed and out of breath by the time he answered the door. A much-irritated Oriental youth stood rigidly at the door, garbed in the uniform of the royal messenger. The young man's brows lifted slightly at Quatre's state, but made no comment.
Instead, he thrust a small letter at the blonde, which held the royal seal. "Give this to the Lord or Lady of the house," he said briskly before turning and heading towards his mount.
Quatre took off again, still not rested from his prior exertions. He knew better than to delay in giving Lady Une a letter from the palace. She may pile chores on him, or worse, lapse into that mood which he'd secretly taken to calling "Colonel mode." That was never a pleasant situation. While she could almost be kind normally, she was a tyrant as the colonel.
No, Quatre would much rather keep his head attached to his body for the time being.
So he knocked softly on the door and didn't enter until he'd heard the almost whisper of her consent. Une was sitting at her vanity table, humming softly as she brushed out her hair. Quatre had always noticed she did and awful lot of this. You'd think the womans hair would have started to fall out by now, but it seemed just as thick and beautiful as ever.
She turned to him a sickeningly sweet - not to mention fake - smile gracing her lips. "Yes my dear Quatre?"
Oh, like she really thought of him as 'her dear'. Not bloody likely. He smiled anyway and handed her the letter which she opened greedily. Une liked to pretend everything was perfect. Like she was still as young as she had once been, that her daughters were perfect little copies of herself when in fact one despised her and the other was too empty headed to match her mothers cunning. She liked to pretend that Quatre was perfectly grateful, willing to 'help out around the manor'. And all three allowed this, afraid of the slowly aging woman. If you went along with things she was at least tolerable.
Quatre nearly jumped as Une gave an excited squeal so unlike her usually calm demeanor and hitched her heavy skirts and left the room at a run. The blonde followed., curious at her mood and behaviour. He met her in the music room, Dorothy and Relena both crowded around her.
"The prince is having a ball!" she exclaimed breathlessly, waving the letter about in the air. "It says here the prince must choose a bride by midnight, else the throne be passed to his sister. Every eligible maiden in the land is invited. One of you must charm his highness."
Quatre saw Dorothy's face fall and Relena brighten. He knew of Dorothy's secret wish to become a scholar. She'd been studying for years, hardly leaving the library, she not doubt thought this new scheme to get either girls married was yet another dent in her plans.
Relena on the other hand was all for getting married. She followed around the young men in the village almost to the point of stalking. Unlike her sister, Relena's only wish was to have a ring on her finger and money in her coin pouch. God help all those who tried to stop her from getting what she wanted.
Of course the girls choice in men was rather strange considering how she coveted matrimony. In stead of foolish romantics, she looked to the dark, dangerous soldier type. The ones who would sooner kill themselves than having such a trollop gracing their homes. No one wanted children who had been mothered by Relena, not when her behavior could very well be inherited.
Two such very different girls living in the same home and only one enjoying it.
Dorothy crossed her arms and gave her mother a subtle glare, one the woman wasn't likely to notice in her excitement. Relena just giggled, no doubt picturing herself queen with some dark, handsome man at her side. The girl read too many trashy romance novels. She was delusional.
Quatre doubted either would be chosen. Dorothy would purposely intimidate the prince with her intalect and Relena would just plain annoy the prince into a stupor. Well, Quatre wouldn't admit that out loud, but it was true.
Une had an almost feral gleam in her eyes. "Come girls, we must prepare."
"The balls not for another week, mother," Dorothy complained, seeing that they were about to spend hours sifting though their wardrobes.
"Exactly. That gives us very little time to plan. You must be at your very best by Saturday evening, or the prince's eye will pass you by. Royalty sees many extraordinary things. You must out-splendor the best of them." She swept past Quatre on her way out, not even sparing the boy a glance.
He threw a sympathetic glance at Dorothy as she passed. The two had been close away from the watchful eyes of their mother, though Dorothy was more like a cousin to him than a sister. Sometimes they'd study together for hours, neither saying a word. It was the only escape from his dismal world.
His mood darkened a little more as he realized he'd be spending the next week mending, altering and cleaning clothes. There would be no time for recreation, no study or a stolen moment on his beloved violin. And all because Une had decided one of her daughter was going to catch the prince.
With a sigh, he left to finish his dusting. He'd be called back from his chore soon enough.
"Quatre never get's to play," a small field mouse squeaked to her friend. The other mouse grunted and continued chewing on his sesame seed. She threw a glare at the Prussian eyed mouse. "Don't you ever say anything, Heero? I've known you for to years now and you only speak in a funny language and I don't think what you're saying is very nice."
The dark brown mouse only leveled her with a look and turned back to his seed. Hilde sighed and scampered back into the walls, happy to hear the squeaks of other mice. Being alone with Heero for a long period of time always made her lonely. The foreign mouse hardly spoke, but always seemed to be able to understand. And he was a damn fine looker, too. It was a waste that such pretty eyes were attached to such an unapproachable mouse.
Oh well, there were other fish in the seas, as the humans said.
~TBC~
Shade: I know this has most likely already been done before, but hell, it just popped into my head. Plus I haven't had a lot of ideas lately. I like it. Expect more twisted character roles. Did anyone expect to see Heero as a mouse? I didn't.