(MarthRoy)
Authors: Xan and Vallen
Rating: R
Warnings: One thing… Or, lot's of things: This is a story with yaoi/shounen
ai/slash, whatever you want to call it. If that sort of stuff isn't your thing,
then don't read it. But, we hope that you do…
Disclaimer: The characters Marth and Roy, plus "Altea", do not belong to us. We
just use them for our pleasure.
Feedback: Yes. (That means we would love to hear from you and what you think!)
Notes: Vallen:*wipes the sweat off her forehead* Oy… So much typing when my
hands are frozen! Anyways, enjoy!
Xan: (didn't get her act together soon enough to comment)
Don't forget to join: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/xan-vallen!!
Thanks to: Li Kayun (yes, being "friends" is good, but Roy's being a brat.), Shea (You mean we're BOTH wonderful writers, right? I'd be disappointed if only one of us got the compliment!), YoshiMars (*growls* the evil scanner conspiracy is at foot… Get it fixed! We love fanart!), royal pain (Every word? *cheers* Go Roy fans! I luv you!), Asudem (I'm hoping for a little more than friends, but what can I do? I am helpless in the situation! *groans* Except not…), Spectrum (*bows* Yes, quick chapters are gifts from the gods, eh? I should know, I'm an avid fanfic reader myself. Oh, and yes, I quite enjoyed the role-reversal myself! Thanks for noticing!), Zel The Stampede (I like your sn… heh. Oh, and we like e-mail, so go ahead if you want!), Sinnatious (*uses suspense as a deadly weapon* We love writing the contrasts and we'll be sure to post more and more… I don't think we'll get writer's cube anytime soon.), kyuusei (The yahoo group is our site from talking about Marth and Roy stuff, fanart, and whatnot! It's fun! I'm glad you like the magic.), Pichu*Star (*mysterious face* I am afraid that I cannot disclose information of that type to the public… Just hang on and wait! It's a fun ride- believe me!), Klar (We LOVE gift art… F.no.K seem like an anime in itself? ^__^ Thanks for the enthusiastic review) and Lil Princess Me (*plugs ears momentarily* Well, if you're not a big fan of yaoi, you'll have to wait for the next few chapters, because there will definitely be some there… *chuckles*)
Prince, no, King Gaimen of Altea paced around his vast and richly ornamented chambers.
Still powerful even in middle age, Gaimen had the tall, hard body of a warrior. His face, though it had seen many battles, still attracted a fair share of the court ladies. Although his tastes ran in another direction, he often enjoyed their favors.
'Hm… I wonder where my young nephew and that bratty general are now? Hopefully lying dead on the banks of a river somewhere or in the bellies of wolves. Still,' he paused and glanced at the portrait of Marth that he kept to remember the prince by. 'It was such a pity to let such beauties slip out of my grasp. They were too dangerous, though. There are plenty of people I could have who aren't desperate to kill me. But still…The look in Marth's eyes when I declared him in exile… He was as beautiful as an ice sculpture- no, more…'
A shiver filled Gaimen at the thought of his hands on Marth's soft skin. And that boy-General's as well. Younger than Marth, but just as beautiful, Roy was yet another jewel slipped through his fingers.
"Oh well," the new King said aloud. "Two boys aren't worth all the power that I now possess. The Kingdom of Altea is mine!"
Roy rode for a day, and when it became night, he slowed down, trying to convince himself that he had more energy. His passenger was unresponsive, as he had been all day, and the boy supported his limp weight.
All of a sudden, a small cabin came into view. It was covered in snow and forest brush, but Roy's sharp eyes caught it. He hastened the pace and reached the cabin, dismounting carefully and leaving Marth upon the horse. His legs shook and he walked weakly in the snow, but made his way to the front door.
Roy knocked on the heavy, wooden door once, twice, and a third time before he heard a voice…
"Go away." It was the voice on a mature, perhaps old, man, sounding fairly gruff and annoyed.
The auburn-haired boy groaned softly in frustration and bit his already-cracked lip, unknowingly making it bleed. The cold had affected him more than he had noticed, his hair covered in ice (some strands frozen) and his skin dry and cracking.
"My… companion and I mean you no harm and I'm not quite sure what's wrong with him, but he's very weak and hasn't been conscious all day. If anything, please help him," Roy tried explaining the situation to see if it would help, but he got no answer from behind the door.
At least fifteen minutes passed before the door opened a crack. Eyes from within took in the sight on his doorstep: A frozen boy supporting another unconscious man only a few years older. The boy-teen heard the door open and looked up in surprise.
"If you're going to come in, hurry up," the gruff voice said.
Roy blinked in surprise and scrambled to his feet shakily, pulling Marth with him. The door opened further to give way to the darkness inside. Once he had gotten them both inside, he looked around the pitch-black for the owner of the voice.
"Is anyone there?"
The auburn-haired teen tightened his grip on Marth and locked his knees so that the two of them would not fall over. Just as his eyes began to adjust, a small oil lamp was lit, exposing a tall figure right in front of him.
The man was dressed in long, warm-looking deep green and black robes. He had long, slightly graying brown hair with several small braids woven into it in random places. Bright amethyst eyes regarded them carefully, and Roy could feel a sort of power probing at his body as those eyes examined him.
"Give me the blue-haired one," he demanded in that voice.
That made Roy hold on tighter to Marth, but he did not stand down.
"What will you do with him?"
The man's eyes flashed.
"Listen, you either give him to me or you don't. It's your decision whether he survives or not."
Reluctantly, Roy shifted his burden's weight and handed him to the man, who took Marth as if he weighed nothing.
"Take care of your horses."
The former general stared at him in surprise, but gathered his strength and stalked off outside once again. Despite the clothes he was wearing, the cold bit through his skin and tortured his bones. He took hold of both the horses' reins and led them around the cabin, finding a shelter/station of some sorts, shielded from the elements. The teen tiredly un-tacked them and put blankets on the back, ones he had found in the tack box. After feeding them, he sank down to the hay-covered ground, shivering, and fell asleep.
The purple-eyed man carried Marth to a small couch in a main room and brushed a hand across the young man's forehead. He pulled out a small bag of medicines and waved an item with a strong-smelling odor under the ex-prince's nose.
"So you were the one who was messing with my storm."
Marth's eyes opened slowly. His vision was clouded, but cleared after he blinked. He found that he was in an unfamiliar place, being cared for by unfamiliar hands.
'Where am I? Where's Roy' were his first thoughts. Then he realized that the strange, deep, gruff voice had been addressing him.
"E-excuse me?" Marth asked.
"I said that it was you who was tampering with my blizzard."
Marth could now clearly see the speaker. He could feel him too in a strange way, a way he had never know he could feel things. It was as if he was using a newly awakened sixth sense for the first time.
"Where's Roy?" the ex-prince asked, his head much clearer. The man looked at him with those amethyst eyes.
"He's fallen asleep in my stable. Wait here and I'll get him. You're too weak to move."
Marth nodded and relaxed.
The middle-aged hermit left and went outside to get Roy as promised. He prodded the teen with his boot.
"Wake up. Your friend is conscious now and I'm willing to bet that you want to see him," he announced once Roy had opened his eyes and sat up.
The ex-general blinked rapidly to clear his eyes of the fatigue and succeeded a tiny bit. He scrambled to his feet, still shivering violently, and ran ahead of the strange man back into the house. When he saw Marth, the internal knot of worries faded, but he showed no external change. Roy knelt on the floor beside the small couch,
"Are you alright now?
The man had entered the cabin again, quietly and smoothly like a shadow.
"Once you're done getting re-acquainted, you have a lot of explaining to do."
Marth tried to sit up, but a rolling wave of nausea washed over him and he lay back down.
"I'm fine," he said softly. "Are you alright? You look like you're freezing."
Roy nodded curtly, clenching his teeth to fight the shivers.
"I am," he replied. "A whole day of riding, supporting you, in that weather… It wasn't exactly a piece of cake."
The teen gave Marth a small glare, then glanced up at the green-clothed man warily.
Marth sighed inwardly. Roy had been nearly civil to him for a moment. Oh well, he knew it wouldn't last.
The hermit looked at them both through his piercing purple eyes.
"Now that I've helped you, tell me your names and what you're doing in my wilderness."
"I'm Marth. We were lost."
"Roy," the ex-general said shortly.
"You may call me Rowen… But you two look like you do not belong around here… From the capital, perhaps?" the man known as Rowen questioned. His manner had not changed, but at least he wasn't being hostile.
Roy stood up to face the hermit, an angry flash in his blue eyes.
"Look, whatever rumors you might have-"
"-I hear no rumors. Be quiet," Rowen interrupted sharply, turning back to Marth. "Now perhaps with you, I can have an intelligent conversation."
The auburn-haired teen looked about ready to protest loudly, but stopped and began to pace to keep warm.
Marth glanced quickly at Roy, but opted to keep quiet about it.
"Thank you for sharing warmth and comfort of your home, Rowen." Marth said, not really knowing how to address the older man.
"Hm. I'll exchange that for some information out of you," Rowen replied. "I have an idea, but you two need to confirm my assumptions… Oh, and a chat about the storm is in order."
"What would you like to know?" Marth asked. He felt like he could trust this man. "And the storm… I'm sorry that I disrupted it, but I did it to save us. I didn't even know that I could…"
"It seems that your intentions are pure, so I'll tell you about your magic after you tell me what the ex-prince of Altea is doing in my cabin."
Roy scowled, sulking in a corner with his arms crossed over his chest in defiance and to help warm himself. He didn't like this "Rowen" guy and didn't know why on earth Marth trusted him.
A slight blush climbed Marth's cheeks, then vanished.
"As you know, we've been exiled. We were sold into slavery, tortured, then escaped into the Altean wilds. Thus, here we are."
Rowen's eyebrows raised a little bit,
"How colorful. And you're journeying back to the capital, I take it?"
"At the risk of sounding like a over imaginative bard, yes. To overthrow my evil uncle and reclaim my unlawfully stolen Kingdom."
The amethyst-eyes man snorted, a hint of a smile on his face.
"Sounds almost fun. And you're going to do it with just the two of you?"
Marth nodded, an expression of icy determination on his face.
"If we have to, then yes."
"… And it would be more to your advantage if you were stronger, correct?"
"Yes. Sir, what are you getting at?"
Rowen's eyes glinted.
"Have you ever thought about becoming a mage?"
Roy finally looked up from his corner, surprised with his eyes clearly showing it. What was this old loon saying? Why was Marth so special?
Marth looked right back into Rowen's eyes.
"I had never thought that I had possessed the potential, so I never gave in any thought… But now, it's obvious that it's there. So any weapon that I may use in this battle would be much appreciated. Are you willing to teach me?
"And who said I could teach you?" the hermit replied, a bit surprised at the young man's cleverness.
"I doubt you'd have brought it up if you didn't have something in mind. You're a crafty sort, Mage. I know you have something in mind."
Rowen let out a small laugh.
"Hm, I guess you've found me out. I am Rowen Wyndburne, Elemental Mage. I specialize in weather, which you might have guessed. Look, I don't like people, which I isolate myself, but if you don't bother me and I don't bother you, I'm willing to teach."
Marth's spirit rose inwardly at the thought of receiving training in these new powers that he suddenly found himself blessed (or cursed) with. Then he remembered Roy and turned to look at his auburn-haired comrade.
"Roy? Do you have any objections?"
The teen scowled darkly, turning his face from the two of them.
"No," he ground out. "Just do whatever- As long as I get a swing at your uncle."
The blue-haired man actually smiled at Roy.
"A swing you shall have. If there's any left of him when I'm done, I shall place him in your hands." He turned back to Rowen. "If you're willing to teach, then I'm willing to learn."
Roy's face grew even darker than before, bowing his head so that the shadows were cast on it. Of course… Marth would go first at fighting Gaimen, not him. It made him angry to be put in second place and he didn't want it to make sense. Marth was the prince and he was just the commoner who was dealt a good hand of Fate's cards.
"I guess this will be a fun challenge for the both of us, don't you think?" Rowen's gruff voice interrupted his angry thoughts.
"Yes, I do."
Once Rowen had left the room to fetch something, Marth's eyes turned to Roy.
"We can go after my uncle together," He said quietly. "I know he's hurt you just as badly as me."
"Just stop talking to me, okay?" Roy snapped, shifting his weight anxiously. "Just get that guy to tell me where I can go wait and freeze until you're done with this stupid "mage training" thing."
Marth fell silent and retreated back into iciness. Had he not been himself, he would have been hurt. Rowen returned and Marth asked him about accommodations for the both of them. The Mage led them to a tiny room off the main cabin and set up two cots in it. Marth walked slowly, unsteadily to the room, refusing help. Once there, he fell onto the bed, still very exhausted. Soon, he was deeply asleep.
"Tomorrow, then…" Rowen told Marth's sleeping form, turning to Roy, his face changing when he looked upon the teen. "Well, aren't you going to sleep, frozen one?"
The ex-general stepped forward, his arms still folded across his chest.
"Not near him," he grumbled.
The Mage raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking slightly.
"Oh, really? Would you prefer being with me, then?"
Roy growled and sat down on the second cot reluctantly, his silent answer and declaration of aversion to the Mage.
"That's what I thought. Farewell till the morning, boy," Rowen continued, then left. He chuckled and whispered to himself: "Hate is only Love with its back turned."
TBC…
Vallen: Well, that was another medium-sized chapter for you guys. I told you it gets more interesting! Oh, and what do you think of Rowen? Ps… The last line is a quote from one of my favorite fanfics, "Hate is only Love with it's back turned" by sarah-neko (I think she changed her name.)
Xan: (didn't get her act together soon enough to comment)
PS!! Extra note from Vallen: I didn't get Xan to preview this, so please tell me if there are any errors, okay? AND! Xan's birthday is on MONDAY! So please drop her an e-mail at (Xanthos1111@aol.com or xan_vallen@cliffhanger.com) or post a message on the group! Thank you… *bows repeatedly*