Chapter 2
"You are nearly of age, Heero!" Emperor Odin bellowed, slamming his fists onto the dining table, the china finery rattling from the brutal onslaught. Heero remained motionless with his back to his father and shoulder's squared. He was a handsome youth; the number of his suitors were nearing a thousand. Princesses, Duchesses, Empresses and just about every other title of royalty were vying for the stoic prince's affections but as of yet, it was fruitless. He was remarkably identical to his father except for there were none of the scowl lines around his full lips. The tendrils of dark chocolate brown were usually kept untidy and no amount of grooming could tame the wild locks. The bangs shadowed his striking cobalt oculates from view. His skin was bronzed and well-toned despite his lack in height. "I will not tolerate your inability to choose a wife! Are you listening?!" He barked, a delicate plate laden with the finest kumquat crashed to the tiled floor.
"I am but I do not care." Heero stalked from the dining hall, ignoring his father's yells. It wasn't his fault that he didn't want to find a mate. He rather enjoyed his hermit lifestyle than spending the rest of his life with some harping woman that would drive him batty before he could claim insanity resulting from old age. The women were all flighty too. It would have been a bit different if he could hold an intellectual conversation but they were awful. The English girls would only discuss their favorite fashions and want him to romance them silly. The Chinese girls, though smart in their own rights, just clashed too much with him in their views and they were impatient too. Most left the same day after dealing with his remarkable emotionless personality. Several girls from the Indian countries were interested in merely his status and his appearance. One had even suggested they do every single copulation act in the Kama Sutra.
Heero wasn't exactly emotionless. He just didn't show them to anyone but himself. He could be happy but he didn't smile when someone made a joke. He was often sad and melancholic but no one ever saw his tears or his frowns. He became furious often but he didn't lash out violently unless propositioned. Heero, at a young age with the death of his mother, had decided that he wouldn't let anyone close to him and if that meant destroying all faculities of exterior emotion, then so be it. For fourteen years he'd done what he'd promised. For fourteen years, he'd been lonely. It was a dull and bitter ache inside his chest and yet, he didn't expect the offers of those women who fancied him. If he was going to give his heart, it would be to someone worthy, someone who would love him for him and not for his wealth or beauty.
Leaning against one of the pillars of the palace on the upper tiers, Heero watched the sun rise above the mountains and the mist part from the land below. Today, his father would be giving him another pleasure slave. This one would go to the slaves quarters with the other ten. He hated his father for that. The girls and boys were barely into their teens when they had been captured and enslaved for Odin's uses. Heero disregared them easily enough.
There were two things that could make Heero joyful. Tiramisu and sparring with Chang Wufei in the mornings. Wufei was the representative of the Chang dynasty in China. His father bade him spend a year living in Japan and learning the trade. He wasn't a bad person and he wasn't annoying like the rest of Heero's proclaimed friends. He would, though, rant and rave about justice at any given moment but Heero forgave him for his ramblings.
Sparring with Wufei was always exciting. Neither boy would back down from the fight until one of them was unconcious or severely injured. Several of the scars on Heero's torso, trailing with the ones from war, were made from Wufei's katana. They seldomnly used weapons unless the battle became so intense that blood-rage blinded their initial decisions.
Heero dressed himself in his gi and walked towards the clearing in the forest that they used to prevent onlookers from the Imperial Palace. Heero closed his eyes as a gentle breeze wafted through the trees, dark locks blowing lethargically. It would be autumn soon and time for the harvest. It would also mean Heero's day of birth was just one day closer and he would be forced to choose himself a bride. Heero peeped a prussian oculate open at the sounds of metal clashing against metal.
Zechs Merquise, one of the sons of an English diplomat that didn't bother Heero too much but at times made Heero want to behead him, was fencing with Wufei. To an outside observer, the match might have seemed ludicrious. A tall, perfectly proportioned man with long flaxen hair tied loosely and the most exquisite shade of green-blue eyes defending against a petit, slick, raven-haired Chinese youth with bottomless obsidian gems. Zechs parllied the rapid succession of jabs with some trouble. Wufei, with a burst of ardenaline, sent one swipe from his blade and completey disarmed Zechs.
"I win," Wufei smirked, standing over the prone form of the panting Anglo- Saxon. Heero rolled his eyes at the obvious flirtatious and teasing tone of his voice. Heero figured he was the only one who saw the attraction between Zechs and Wufei. He kept the secret to himself and decided to let them wallow in their supposedly hush-hush desire for one another.
"So you do." Zechs leered at Wufei, bare chest streaked with sweat, mirroring Wufei's own naked upper body. "Want a prize, I take it?" Heero's lips twitched, threatening to bring forth a smile. They were completely oblivious to him.
"A prize, ne?" Wufei prided himself on his keen senses but he was completely naive to any sort of romantic longing. Which was why the emotions swimming in Zechs's eyes were alarming. What exactly was the meaning in those liquid lapis lazuli jewels?
"Wufei." Heero interupted, becoming impatient. Wufei jumped from Zechs's body like he was the plague and nearly dropped his sword which would have permanently cleaved Zechs of his manhood. Heero stifled the snicker.
"Heero?! Don't do that!!!" Wufei growled, scowling irritably at the impassive boy. "It is an injustice to sneak upon your comrades when they are fighting and not let your prescence be known! What if I had just suddenly saw you and accidently gutted him?!"
Heero shrugged, bouncing on the pads of his feet, preparing himself for the mornings spar. "Zechs." Heero greeted with a nod to the blond. "Staying or going?" Heero asked with the least amount of words he could muster.
Zechs glanced at Wufei. He was glaring daggers at Heero. "I'll go. I have to write home to Relena and tell her that you've fallen ill so she doesn't come here." Zechs chuckled. "She's infatuated with you Heero and I've even told her that it will never happen but she doesn't listen. Wufei, do you want to have lunch with me later?"
"Yes, that would be fine," Wufei said, stretching his leg muscles. As Zechs pivoted on his heel to leave, Wufei asked, "Not going to wish me luck? I'm hurt."
Zechs laughed heartily. "As if you need luck Wufei but...good luck anyway."
Heero shook his head at them. They were so blind. They were both two of the most learned scholars in their countries and yet completely stupid. What was it they said? That love was blind? He was beginning to find that was the truth.
# # #
Duo watched as the other slaves milled around the manor. Van had told him not to participate, that the prince would want him fresh and un-callused by the work that the others were doing. Trowa and Quatre, the Latin and Arabic boys that he shared his quarters with, were busy patching the roof of the dormitories where violent storms had split the wood. Duo wanted to help them but Quatre had adamantly refused his offers. He had told Duo that he and Trowa would punished if they didn't obey Van.
The exuberant braided boy desperately wanted to bring Trowa and Quatre with him. They were so lively and it was nice to be near them. Duo feared he'd never see either again once he was shipped to the palace. He rose to his feet as the gates were pulled open and a brougham rolled inside. A couple slaves rushed water to the horses and another opened the doors. Duo swallowed the lump in his throat. This was definitely sent from the palace, the Emperor's crests and colors adorned the brougham.
Duo ran to the dormitories and hauled himself up to the roof where Quatre and Trowa were looking at the proceedings. "I'm guessing it's time for me to leave, huh?" Duo was unprepared for the sudden bundle as Quatre hurled himself at Duo. "Whoa, Quat, what's wrong with you?"
"You're going to go away and we'll never see each other!"
"We'll meet again Quatre. I'll break free of the palace, come here with a coffin of gold, and we'll three run away together." Duo winked at the crying boy. "See, it'll work out. Don't worry yourself over me either. I spent five years as a pleasure slave. I'm sure I can keep that damn prince happy."
"Quatre, let him go." Trowa said urgently, gesturing towards Van.
"Goodbye Duo," Quatre pouted.
"Later Quat." Duo hopped to the ground and was rougly pulled by his arm towards the brougham. He couldn't glance at Trowa and Quatre for fear of crying. The regal man with arms folded into the wide sleeves of his kimono and bright, wine colored eyes that flashed with appreciation before sombering. Duo couldn't place why but he felt he could trust the bushy, auburn haired man with the criss-crossed scar on his cheek.
The man beckoned for Duo to get inside the brougham. With pursed lips and chin pointed, Duo clambered into the interior, gasping as he nearly landed on the lap of another man. He was broader and taller than the red haired man with slanted, golden oculates. Black locks of hair was smoothed to his scalp, a few strands of hair framed his forehead and fell past his cheeks. Duo narrowed his eyes as the smaller man settled beside him and the brougham started to move.
"Who the hell are you?" Duo asked, not caring about his manners and that these two men could quit possibly dismember him with a flick of their wrists. He hadn't been told the he was going to be escorted and he really didnt like the look of the harsher featured man.
"I am Kenshin Himura and this is Saitou Hajime," the kinder one supplied. "We are from the Emperor, as you might have guessed, de gozaru. You are to be cleaned and presented to his royal highness at precisely noon. That gives us an hour."
Duo gritted his teeth and rigidly sat between Saitou and Kenshin. Cleaned? It wasnt as if he had fleas or anything. Duo tensed when a soft hand, callused from holding a sword, was placed on his shoulder. "You neednt be afraid, that you shouldnt. You're in capable hands and you will stay alive if you follow the simple rules Kaoru-dono will give you."
Saitou snorted. "Jou-chan will make him insane. You could have put him in more capable hands of Megumi. Honestly Kenshin, do you ever think?"
Duo cocked his head at the queer-eyed man. Kenshin rolled his eyes. "Kaoru- dono is nicer than Megumi-san. Would you rather have this young man bruised by the time she gets done bathing him?"
Duo frowned. "I can bathe myself."
Saitou raised an amused brow at the pouting boy. "Really? I'm impressed. You and Sanosuke would make a perfect pair."
Kenshin bomped Saitou over the head roughly. "Do not speak of Sano like that, de gozaru!" He smiled serenly at Duo. "We shall speak again once you've been bathed and dressed by Kaoru-dono. I will lead you to the prince's chambers."
"You mean, that eye sore won't be taking me?" Duo stuck his tongue out at Saitou.
Kenshin laughed. "No, he will not."
"Good, because he'd probably scewer me on a pit and eat me."
Saitou hned. "Ahou." Yes, he was being reminded of Sanosuke and just when he thought he would be rid of the mercenary this braided baka was interferring with his forgetting process. He ignored the banter beside him and focused on the passing trees.
"What's the prince like?"
"You will see, de gozaru." Kenshin stared at Duo for a few seconds before averting his attention to his feet. Perhaps Prince Heero would like this one...
~* ~* ~
I did mean to put the Kenshin characters in here because of my mind lacking the ability to come up with new ones. I'm sure you all dont mind. :-P ::giggles::
Translations: Baka (Idiot) Kaoru-dono (I think it means Miss Kaoru)
Review, please. The more I get the faster the next chapter will be out. ^o^
"You are nearly of age, Heero!" Emperor Odin bellowed, slamming his fists onto the dining table, the china finery rattling from the brutal onslaught. Heero remained motionless with his back to his father and shoulder's squared. He was a handsome youth; the number of his suitors were nearing a thousand. Princesses, Duchesses, Empresses and just about every other title of royalty were vying for the stoic prince's affections but as of yet, it was fruitless. He was remarkably identical to his father except for there were none of the scowl lines around his full lips. The tendrils of dark chocolate brown were usually kept untidy and no amount of grooming could tame the wild locks. The bangs shadowed his striking cobalt oculates from view. His skin was bronzed and well-toned despite his lack in height. "I will not tolerate your inability to choose a wife! Are you listening?!" He barked, a delicate plate laden with the finest kumquat crashed to the tiled floor.
"I am but I do not care." Heero stalked from the dining hall, ignoring his father's yells. It wasn't his fault that he didn't want to find a mate. He rather enjoyed his hermit lifestyle than spending the rest of his life with some harping woman that would drive him batty before he could claim insanity resulting from old age. The women were all flighty too. It would have been a bit different if he could hold an intellectual conversation but they were awful. The English girls would only discuss their favorite fashions and want him to romance them silly. The Chinese girls, though smart in their own rights, just clashed too much with him in their views and they were impatient too. Most left the same day after dealing with his remarkable emotionless personality. Several girls from the Indian countries were interested in merely his status and his appearance. One had even suggested they do every single copulation act in the Kama Sutra.
Heero wasn't exactly emotionless. He just didn't show them to anyone but himself. He could be happy but he didn't smile when someone made a joke. He was often sad and melancholic but no one ever saw his tears or his frowns. He became furious often but he didn't lash out violently unless propositioned. Heero, at a young age with the death of his mother, had decided that he wouldn't let anyone close to him and if that meant destroying all faculities of exterior emotion, then so be it. For fourteen years he'd done what he'd promised. For fourteen years, he'd been lonely. It was a dull and bitter ache inside his chest and yet, he didn't expect the offers of those women who fancied him. If he was going to give his heart, it would be to someone worthy, someone who would love him for him and not for his wealth or beauty.
Leaning against one of the pillars of the palace on the upper tiers, Heero watched the sun rise above the mountains and the mist part from the land below. Today, his father would be giving him another pleasure slave. This one would go to the slaves quarters with the other ten. He hated his father for that. The girls and boys were barely into their teens when they had been captured and enslaved for Odin's uses. Heero disregared them easily enough.
There were two things that could make Heero joyful. Tiramisu and sparring with Chang Wufei in the mornings. Wufei was the representative of the Chang dynasty in China. His father bade him spend a year living in Japan and learning the trade. He wasn't a bad person and he wasn't annoying like the rest of Heero's proclaimed friends. He would, though, rant and rave about justice at any given moment but Heero forgave him for his ramblings.
Sparring with Wufei was always exciting. Neither boy would back down from the fight until one of them was unconcious or severely injured. Several of the scars on Heero's torso, trailing with the ones from war, were made from Wufei's katana. They seldomnly used weapons unless the battle became so intense that blood-rage blinded their initial decisions.
Heero dressed himself in his gi and walked towards the clearing in the forest that they used to prevent onlookers from the Imperial Palace. Heero closed his eyes as a gentle breeze wafted through the trees, dark locks blowing lethargically. It would be autumn soon and time for the harvest. It would also mean Heero's day of birth was just one day closer and he would be forced to choose himself a bride. Heero peeped a prussian oculate open at the sounds of metal clashing against metal.
Zechs Merquise, one of the sons of an English diplomat that didn't bother Heero too much but at times made Heero want to behead him, was fencing with Wufei. To an outside observer, the match might have seemed ludicrious. A tall, perfectly proportioned man with long flaxen hair tied loosely and the most exquisite shade of green-blue eyes defending against a petit, slick, raven-haired Chinese youth with bottomless obsidian gems. Zechs parllied the rapid succession of jabs with some trouble. Wufei, with a burst of ardenaline, sent one swipe from his blade and completey disarmed Zechs.
"I win," Wufei smirked, standing over the prone form of the panting Anglo- Saxon. Heero rolled his eyes at the obvious flirtatious and teasing tone of his voice. Heero figured he was the only one who saw the attraction between Zechs and Wufei. He kept the secret to himself and decided to let them wallow in their supposedly hush-hush desire for one another.
"So you do." Zechs leered at Wufei, bare chest streaked with sweat, mirroring Wufei's own naked upper body. "Want a prize, I take it?" Heero's lips twitched, threatening to bring forth a smile. They were completely oblivious to him.
"A prize, ne?" Wufei prided himself on his keen senses but he was completely naive to any sort of romantic longing. Which was why the emotions swimming in Zechs's eyes were alarming. What exactly was the meaning in those liquid lapis lazuli jewels?
"Wufei." Heero interupted, becoming impatient. Wufei jumped from Zechs's body like he was the plague and nearly dropped his sword which would have permanently cleaved Zechs of his manhood. Heero stifled the snicker.
"Heero?! Don't do that!!!" Wufei growled, scowling irritably at the impassive boy. "It is an injustice to sneak upon your comrades when they are fighting and not let your prescence be known! What if I had just suddenly saw you and accidently gutted him?!"
Heero shrugged, bouncing on the pads of his feet, preparing himself for the mornings spar. "Zechs." Heero greeted with a nod to the blond. "Staying or going?" Heero asked with the least amount of words he could muster.
Zechs glanced at Wufei. He was glaring daggers at Heero. "I'll go. I have to write home to Relena and tell her that you've fallen ill so she doesn't come here." Zechs chuckled. "She's infatuated with you Heero and I've even told her that it will never happen but she doesn't listen. Wufei, do you want to have lunch with me later?"
"Yes, that would be fine," Wufei said, stretching his leg muscles. As Zechs pivoted on his heel to leave, Wufei asked, "Not going to wish me luck? I'm hurt."
Zechs laughed heartily. "As if you need luck Wufei but...good luck anyway."
Heero shook his head at them. They were so blind. They were both two of the most learned scholars in their countries and yet completely stupid. What was it they said? That love was blind? He was beginning to find that was the truth.
# # #
Duo watched as the other slaves milled around the manor. Van had told him not to participate, that the prince would want him fresh and un-callused by the work that the others were doing. Trowa and Quatre, the Latin and Arabic boys that he shared his quarters with, were busy patching the roof of the dormitories where violent storms had split the wood. Duo wanted to help them but Quatre had adamantly refused his offers. He had told Duo that he and Trowa would punished if they didn't obey Van.
The exuberant braided boy desperately wanted to bring Trowa and Quatre with him. They were so lively and it was nice to be near them. Duo feared he'd never see either again once he was shipped to the palace. He rose to his feet as the gates were pulled open and a brougham rolled inside. A couple slaves rushed water to the horses and another opened the doors. Duo swallowed the lump in his throat. This was definitely sent from the palace, the Emperor's crests and colors adorned the brougham.
Duo ran to the dormitories and hauled himself up to the roof where Quatre and Trowa were looking at the proceedings. "I'm guessing it's time for me to leave, huh?" Duo was unprepared for the sudden bundle as Quatre hurled himself at Duo. "Whoa, Quat, what's wrong with you?"
"You're going to go away and we'll never see each other!"
"We'll meet again Quatre. I'll break free of the palace, come here with a coffin of gold, and we'll three run away together." Duo winked at the crying boy. "See, it'll work out. Don't worry yourself over me either. I spent five years as a pleasure slave. I'm sure I can keep that damn prince happy."
"Quatre, let him go." Trowa said urgently, gesturing towards Van.
"Goodbye Duo," Quatre pouted.
"Later Quat." Duo hopped to the ground and was rougly pulled by his arm towards the brougham. He couldn't glance at Trowa and Quatre for fear of crying. The regal man with arms folded into the wide sleeves of his kimono and bright, wine colored eyes that flashed with appreciation before sombering. Duo couldn't place why but he felt he could trust the bushy, auburn haired man with the criss-crossed scar on his cheek.
The man beckoned for Duo to get inside the brougham. With pursed lips and chin pointed, Duo clambered into the interior, gasping as he nearly landed on the lap of another man. He was broader and taller than the red haired man with slanted, golden oculates. Black locks of hair was smoothed to his scalp, a few strands of hair framed his forehead and fell past his cheeks. Duo narrowed his eyes as the smaller man settled beside him and the brougham started to move.
"Who the hell are you?" Duo asked, not caring about his manners and that these two men could quit possibly dismember him with a flick of their wrists. He hadn't been told the he was going to be escorted and he really didnt like the look of the harsher featured man.
"I am Kenshin Himura and this is Saitou Hajime," the kinder one supplied. "We are from the Emperor, as you might have guessed, de gozaru. You are to be cleaned and presented to his royal highness at precisely noon. That gives us an hour."
Duo gritted his teeth and rigidly sat between Saitou and Kenshin. Cleaned? It wasnt as if he had fleas or anything. Duo tensed when a soft hand, callused from holding a sword, was placed on his shoulder. "You neednt be afraid, that you shouldnt. You're in capable hands and you will stay alive if you follow the simple rules Kaoru-dono will give you."
Saitou snorted. "Jou-chan will make him insane. You could have put him in more capable hands of Megumi. Honestly Kenshin, do you ever think?"
Duo cocked his head at the queer-eyed man. Kenshin rolled his eyes. "Kaoru- dono is nicer than Megumi-san. Would you rather have this young man bruised by the time she gets done bathing him?"
Duo frowned. "I can bathe myself."
Saitou raised an amused brow at the pouting boy. "Really? I'm impressed. You and Sanosuke would make a perfect pair."
Kenshin bomped Saitou over the head roughly. "Do not speak of Sano like that, de gozaru!" He smiled serenly at Duo. "We shall speak again once you've been bathed and dressed by Kaoru-dono. I will lead you to the prince's chambers."
"You mean, that eye sore won't be taking me?" Duo stuck his tongue out at Saitou.
Kenshin laughed. "No, he will not."
"Good, because he'd probably scewer me on a pit and eat me."
Saitou hned. "Ahou." Yes, he was being reminded of Sanosuke and just when he thought he would be rid of the mercenary this braided baka was interferring with his forgetting process. He ignored the banter beside him and focused on the passing trees.
"What's the prince like?"
"You will see, de gozaru." Kenshin stared at Duo for a few seconds before averting his attention to his feet. Perhaps Prince Heero would like this one...
~* ~* ~
I did mean to put the Kenshin characters in here because of my mind lacking the ability to come up with new ones. I'm sure you all dont mind. :-P ::giggles::
Translations: Baka (Idiot) Kaoru-dono (I think it means Miss Kaoru)
Review, please. The more I get the faster the next chapter will be out. ^o^
