The Heart Asks Pleasure First
A Prose Opera
III.
Ariette. Ensemble. Trio.
Amoroso. Burlando. Espirando
Amoroso
Last night I dreamed I was a thrush
Warbling the strain of the hermit kind
And I hopped along my lover's hand
As our songs and minds became entwined.
Burlando
Children do as children will
And will not cease 'til they've had their fill
Off merriment and naughtiness
Which includes true love's first kiss
And then, in sudden, the child is gone
And in his spot is an angst-filled dawn.
Espirando
My heart is now for the darkest knight-
The palest ghost that haunts in fright
The peasant throng-
He's the devil's boy on fallen wing.
Oh, angelic Wight,
Wrought from a dying spring
With staring orbs of golden green,
I'll have you-save you from the fall
In my arms, death matters not
In the least.
L4 Colony
Winner Mansion
A.C. 196
Quatre awoke the next morning pleasantly disoriented and unconsciously giddy.
Rubbing his eye in the most adorable fashion possible, the young heir-suddenly overcome with joy- jumped to his feet and ran to the window to greet the late sun. The day-star teased the boy mercilessly, darting in and out from behind the clouds; it was his own fault for waking so late in the day!
Behind the lush garden, Winner Lake glinted gold and teal and lapped onto the white beach with the light breeze. The lake and its gentle dash suddenly reminded Master Quatre of exactly why he was feeling the particular way he was feeling.
Him.
A delicious shudder rippled through Quatre's form. He closed his eyes and replayed the events of the previous night. His cheeks grew hot- he put his healthy hand to his face- as he visualized his visitor walking towards his window, thrush in hand, whistling the simple song like a native bird. Quatre indulged himself and focused on each of the pilot's features that he'd permanently etched onto his mind's eye. He began at the tip of the boy's bangs and traveled to the sensuous mouth, then down all the length of the boy's strong, rubber-clad torso and long, powerful legs, all the way to the pilot's booted feet. Quatre opened his eyes, bit his lip, and looked up at the sun like the guilty little boy he was.
'I'm being such a pervert. . .' He moaned bashfully and giggled innocently. Pulling away from the window, he instinctively pirouetted about his room.
Then. . .in realization. . .he threw himself onto his bed and buried his flushed face in his cool pillow.
'What's going on? I. . .this is ridiculous. What the heck is wrong with me? All of this silliness. . .over a brief rendezvous. Very brief and very. . .' He sighed. 'No words. I have no words! Me- no words! Shouldn't I be spouting mouthful upon mouthful of beautiful poetry? Instead, I'm left speechless. Well. . .I suppose I still have the ability to babble incoherently in my own mind- so my power over language hasn't totally deserted me but. . .oh why didn't he tell me his name!' Quatre moaned aloud and covered his head with a mountain of pillows. 'I'm a damn fool. . .I'm acting like an neurotic child! He probably barely noticed me- he's probably angry with me for spying on him! I intruded on a sacred moment! He probably hates me! I hate me!'
He cried out pitifully, stifling his own immature wail with the pillow. 'I made such a fool of myself- even the birds were laughing at me! And He was so kind- his face was so patient- no mockery, no. . .Oh my. . .I think I. . .'
He sat straight up , jetting up through the sea of fluff and lace.
'I need to see him now.'
Quatre fell into a one-track mindset as he showered and dressed himself for the day. He fought mercilessly with his comb, but eventually failed in his assault on his hanging bangs. After brushing his teeth like a madman (just in case. . .) he spritzed and sprayed and doused himself in his most appealing cologne (which made him cough and gag and sneeze quite fiercely). He found a beautiful outfit which emphasized his most charming asset (his wealth) and stuffed a handcrafted handkerchief in the back pocket of his trousers to give the illusion of size to his childish little caboose.
Pleased with himself, Quatre strutted over to his full-length mirror to study the masterpiece he'd just fashioned from a skinny, pale piece of clay.
Wailing, he ripped the clothes off his body and began to tear his room apart.
'I look like I'm eight!' His mind suddenly went into overtime. 'I need something. . .anything. . .make me look tall! Make me look like a man!'
He found nothing.
"Quatre."
He ran to his second closet, flung open the French doors, and proceeded to rummage frantically through his outfits.
"Quatre?"
"Shoot, darn, crap." Quatre muttered dejectedly.
"Quatre Raberba Winner, what the hell are you doing?"
He spun around at the sound of his sister's voice.
"Um. . ." He bit his lip nervously. Irea arched an eyebrow, while his youngest sister, Gloriana, snickered.
"Baby Quatre, you always have the cutest little undies. . ."
'Oh yeah. . .' He scurried across the room and wrapped his robe around his blushing body. Irea gave him a pointed look.
"I. . .don't have anything to wear." He offered lamely. Biting back a grin, she looked around the room.
"So. . .what's all over the floor?"
"Um. . ."He laughed nervously. Then- glancing from one devoted sister to the other- he threw his hands up in desperation. "I look like I'm eight!" He gasped.
Irea's face melted into a humored pity.
"Oh my little Quatre. . ." She concealed her giggles in a croon.
". . .More like twelve, but I see your point." Gloriana frowned and started to pick up various articles of clothing. Irea glared at her and wrapped an arm around her darling brother's shoulders.
". . .You're the master of the house now, so you should look the part to show that arrogant fop of a duke and his minions- I understand." Irea whispered softly. Quatre glanced up at her.
'. . .That sounds good- I didn't even think of that. Let's go with that plan.' The little heir nodded glumly.
"Gloriana- would you call father's tailor and tell him to bring over his designs for Quatre? His adult designs."
"Sure, but I don't see how that'll help the little Space Prince right now. . ." The younger girl spoke, her saccharine voice oozing with candor.
"I'll help him with that- just go. We'll meet you downstairs in the salon for brunch."
Rolling her blue-gray eyes, the girl flounced out of the room. Irea smiled tenderly at her most favorite man in the world.
"Are you okay?" She asked. "You're usually up with the crack of dawn- how's your hand? What happened with his excellency last night? Have any of them tried to hurt you? How. .."
"Irea, stop with the salvo -I'm fine. I was just tired." He spoke quietly. Mustering up his strength, he suppressed all the invading memories of the last couple days, save the one image he was holding onto so dearly.
Nothing was going to ruin this day for him.
"Are you sure?" She frowned. "What did Treize say to you last night?"
"Can I tell you after I'm dressed?" He asked, demand coloring his halting tenor. Taken aback, Irea nodded.
"Of course- that was silly of me." She began to sift through his sea of clothing. "Don't worry, little brother-We'll find an outfit in here fit for a king." She pulled out a couple of articles and handed them to her little darling. "Because you are one- my little Space King. White and tan give the illusion of size- the pants will make you appear taller. I know you won't like the idea, but I'm going to get you one of Larathea's old blouses- one of the ones with the shoulder pads. This vest and this coat to top it off. You'll knock that vain duke right off his feet. Just a minute." The excitable girl hurried out of the room and Quatre dressed himself accordingly. Upon seeing the blouse, Quatre tried to put his foot down, but Irea merely tweaked his nose and finished decorating him.
'How am I supposed to inspire respect in the people who've conquered our territory if I can't even inspire it in my own household?'
"There… Oh, Quatre, you look magnificent!" Irea gushed and pinched his bum. Pausing for a moment, Irea took the handkerchief out of the first outfit's pocket and stuffed it- along with a second kerchief- in Quatre's back pockets. She clapped her hands together and sighed. "You are so grown up! I'm so proud!"
"Thanks Irea. . ." He smiled and checked his reflection.
He looked. . .sixteen. He blinked
Not-so-little Master Quatre grinned and threw his arms around his sister's neck. She giggled and tickled him in the ribs.
"Come along, your majesty, your presence is required at brunch." She curtseyed. He bowed low and motioned to the door.
"After you, my lady."
". . .And so, Lara and Gloriana just put that nasty ozzie in his place! I mean, the nerve of that guy- insinuating that we would actually appreciate his grubby, oily, blood-stained hands on our bodies! Just because we're beautiful, rich and charming doesn't give him the right to fondle us in our own household. . ."
'I wonder what his name is. . .I bet it's something beautiful. Mysterious. . .Maybe he'll be at brunch. . .what do I say to him then? Why, hello! Yes, I love you. Won't you tell me your name? blah blah blah. .. I'm so confused..'
". . .Then that Lady Une came in and told us that YOU said that we would be hosting the entire army at our house! Quatre, it was very wise political decision, but we just didn't have the room! The soldiers are sleeping all over- it looks like a bloody refugee camp, darling. . ."
'He's a pilot. . .so he fights in one of those mobile suits like the maguanacs. . .Oh, I wish they'd been here to help father! I wish. . .i could've helped protect father. . .I wonder if he thinks I'm handsome? The pilot, that is. . .'
"That Lieutenant Nichol is just dreadful- he's a snob and an ignoramus! He just argues with every thing I say. I was stitching up one of the soldier's wounds and he had the nerve to tell me that I wasn't needed- that the soldier would just have to 'tough it up'! This man was bleeding- I put in a good thirty stitches! Grrr. . .he just makes me so mad. . ."
'Wait. . .what if he doesn't like men?. . .I mean, in a romantic sense. What if he only likes girls! What if he's married? What if he thinks I'm a spoiled child. . .what if he thinks I'm not kind enough. What if he thinks I'm too kind. . .What if. . .'
"Well- all that aside- I think I've fallen in love with that dreadful Nichol. We've decided to skip out on father's funeral, kidnap the priest and elope. Then, what the heck- we're going to make passionate love in your cute little bed and. . ."
Quatre finally looked at Irea with wide and fearful eyes. She winked.
"Welcome back, little brother. Now just where did you fly off to?"
"I'm sorry Irea- I'm just a little preoccupied, that's all."
"Obviously. Oh Quatre, are you sure everything's all right?"
"Of course. And I'm sorry for not telling you that the soldiers were going to be staying here- it was quite late when I made the arrangement. I just thought that. . .all things considering. . .it would be the smartest thing to do. I just wanted to protect the rest of the colony by keeping them as far from the general public as possible. Treize has assured me- and for some reason I believe him- that they have no desire to start a war with us. I realize that most of the other colonies have given into the Earth-colony sphere alliance and I want to make sure that we stay on Romefeller's good side. They've. . .already taken out some of the natural resource satellites, as well as some of the colony resistance groups. I. . .just don't want anyone else to get hurt."
"Everyone knows that Quatre." Irea whispered sympathetically. " Father's council has already announced the events to the colony, but you will have to make a speech to your people, if only to calm their nerves."
They reached the bottom of the stairs. Quatre stopped and stared out the foyer window at the legion assembled in his yard. One of the high-ranking officers- dressed in crimson-was addressing the throng. She was tall and demanded respect from her subordinates. Quatre admired her strength.
"That's Colonel Une." Irea explained. "She's 'his excellency's' right hand woman and commands the troops. She's the one who's been relaying Treize's messages to us, as well as the decisions the two of you have agreed upon."
"I'm sorry there has to be a go-between between us, Irea." Quatre whispered sadly, studying the Oz army's perfect formation. "I'll make sure from now on that we all discuss everything as a family. I. . .was feeling inferior and dominated so I acted rashly."
"Quatre, you are not a rash person- a little headstrong, sometimes- but you always think clearly and weigh your possibilities. You are the head of the household." Irea put a hand on Quatre's shoulder. "But, it would be nice if you would share your decisions with us- we want to support you."
"Thanks Irea." Quatre whispered, still watching the Oz soldiers. He spied Lieutenant Nichol over to the right of the company, along with a couple of soldiers dressed similarly. They were laughing and whispering and subtly pointing at the flock of Specials Officers.
"Nichol's such an idiot. They're all idiots, but he is especially. . ."
'. . .Irea's attracted to him. She's so transparent it makes me sad.'
Quatre kept his smirk to himself and turned back to Lady Une.
However, something far more appealing ensnared his attention.
Oh yes, it was Him.
Coming up to the lot from the garden, He strode through the throng of boys and soldiers to Colonel Une herself. Quatre's divine visitor seemingly had enough clout or status to stand beside the Lady as she lectured her troops.
Quatre unknowingly sighed.
His pilot was so beautiful.
Under the sun, his golden brown hair shone with rare highlights of red and sun-kissed bronze. Under the sun, his creamy, golden-olive skin appeared dewy and radiant. Under the sun, Quatre fell in love all over again.
'. . .There's my poetry. There's my muse.'
Quatre's pilot was seemingly a man of rank- dressed in a navy blue suit similar to the Colonel's, his position lurked somewhere in between Une's status and that of Nichol's group of buffoons, who were presently chortling like satiated hyenas. But Quatre had unconsciously known that already- even though their moonlit rendezvous had been less than brief. There was an intense nobility in the handsome boy's face- in the nose and the chin and the gait. The young man was currently staring at the ground, but, as if on cue, he rose his head and turned it toward the Manor.
They met eyes for a second time. Quatre froze in his spot.
He'd been caught. Again.
A shadow of a smile graced the pilot's face, naturally turning the heir into a puddle of soggy goo. After a moment, the piercing green eyes traveled away from the manor-away from Quatre- and turned to Colonel Une. The young man bent over and whispered something in the Lady's ear which caused her to cease her verbal assault. Rising her eyes questioningly, she glanced toward the house and nodded. Then, turning back to Quatre's boy, she motioned to the sea of privates, then left him to deal with the troops. Quatre's pilot gave them a quick set of instructions and dismissed the lot. After an astounding unison salute, they all parted ways. Quatre tried desperately to follow his love's form, but soon the commanding officer was lost to him in the great shuffle.
Sighing, Quatre pulled away from the window. His pulse slowed quickly.
"C'mon, Quatre. We're late for brunch." Irea whispered. Nodding slowly, Quatre pulled himself from the window and trotted after his sister.
'Blue suit. . .I wonder what his rank is? I don't really understand the Oz system , but I'll bet he's in the top ranks.
Which truly makes him Ozzie scum.
I wonder how many he's killed?
I wonder if he's pillaged a village. . .
I wonder if he's raped a maiden. . .
I wonder if he killed the man that killed my father. . .
I wonder how he mimics the thrush so perfectly? It WAS perfect- the tone, pitch, everything! I wish. . .I wish he was an anonymous private.
I wonder if he'll come by my window tonight. . .maybe I scared him off. Oh, what is his name! I'll bet it's something handsome and noble, like. . um. . .Wilhelm? ugh. . .no. . .um. . .Alexander? Ivan? Henry? Samson? Hugh? Lawrence? Caspar? Um. . .'
"Psst! Irea! What's with Quatre?" Larathea hissed to the eldest sister present. Quatre looked up, utterly perplexed. He had simply been sitting there, minding his own business, totally absorbed with his delicious waffles and strawberries. The red-headed nineteen year old was hardly subtle. Quatre glared at her (as best he could, considering his angelic visage.) She rolled her eyes and looked at him pointedly. "Little brother, you're making googly-flirty eyes at me. And, unless you've suddenly developed some recent sick, pathological fixation with me, I'd say that you have found yourself a crush m'dear. So. . .who is it?"
'Gosh, she didn't even stop to take a breath!' Quatre gulped. 'Am. . .Am I that obvious? Was I really making 'googly-flirt'y eyes at Lara? I guess I better learn how to control my fantasies. . . At least it's just me and my sisters in here. . .'
"I'm sorry Lara- I'm just preoccupied. So much is going on, I can't seem to keep my feet planted on the ground- I'm simply all over the place."
"Yeah right, Quatre." Gloriana cut in, mouth full of Belgian waffle. Irea glared. Gloriana meeped and swallowed forcefully. Then she continued. "We all know something's up- you're friggin' glowing. You wanted to dress all pretty and you were practically crying this morning because you couldn't find the perfect outfit. Now. . .spill it, blondie!"
"Gloriana!" Quatre gasped and blushed. Groaning, he put his cool hands to his face and attempted to hide his flushed cheeks. But this innocent act simply drew a chorus of maniacal giggles. Ten giggles from the ten present sisters. Even Irea. . .
His lip quivered. He couldn't control it.
"Oh Quatre, you are so adorable! I can't believe it! Your very first crush! Oooooh!" Leandra, the frumpy sister, ran over to him and squeezed his little body so very tightly. And the tighter she squeezed, the redder he became and the louder the laughter grew.
"Leandra, let me alone!" Quatre demanded meekly. After the girl had her moment, she left him, breathless and embarrassed, and returned to her sweetened strawberries and honeyed bread. A little mop of blond hair hid a reddened face that was cast down towards the floor.
"Quatre, honey, don't be ashamed- it's wonderful that you've found someone you admire. . .that way." Irea offered sagely. "You don't have to tell us who it is- though, if you do, we can offer wise, sisterly advice and stalk this person for you. . .You'll have an entire squadron of cunning and sneaky spies at your disposal. . ."
"And and. . ."Lavinya started- the prettiest sister with the speech impediment. "and we can. . .can s. . start rumors a. . about any c. . c. . .c. . .c. . .c. . .competition! whew! You might have. So you will have no trouble winning over your paramour!" She sighed dreamily.
"Oh Quatre, you have to tell us who it is!" Lara grumped. "None of us have boyfriends or even prospects, so we're just gonna have to mooch off your romantic happiness. So. .. who is it?"
"I'll bet it's Treize's cousin! That Dorothy chick!" Gloriana announced. "She has the prettiest hair and the nicest clothes. And she's so dominating. . .Quatre needs someone to dominate him. . ."
"H. .. h. . hey!" Quatre exclaimed. "What do you mean by. . .?"
"No way! She has those wickedly icky eyebrows!" Simone- the most developed of the sisters- arched her index fingers over her eyes and wiggled her forehead. "She's totally evil! Besides, everyone knows that Quatre's been pining for that Dorlian girl ever since she came through here with the vice foreign minister last month. Isn't that right, Quatre?"
"Relena? Ew! No way! I mean. . .she's um. .. our personalities don't really compliment each other." He finished cordially.
" Of course not Relena!" Lara announced broadly. "Opposites attract and Relena and Quatre are too posh and poised to be together- that relationship would have absolutely no spark-age. I think he'd like a soldier. . ." She trailed off. Quatre arched an eyebrow.
'. . .well, that's a little closer.'
"I know. Lucrezia! Une's assistant. She's hot. Kinda tomboyish, but pretty. An older woman. . .Whatchya think, Quat?"
"I don't think I know Miss Lucrezia." He replied with a sigh. Irea smiled at him and patted his arm.
"Quatre, you don't have to tell them. . ."
"Oh pish posh, of course he does." Gloriana interrupted. "Besides, we've only just begun. We haven't even started in with the men! Is it Treize?"
"What?!?" Quatre choked on his waffle. Gloriana cackled.
"Is it? Is it Treize Kushrenada? I bet it is! Hell, I want him too!"
"Glori!" Quatre groaned and Irea hissed. All the remaining women giggled.
"Mmm. . .Treize." Lara moaned and pretended to faint. A couple of the younger sisters followed suit. Quatre just shook his head and smiled forcibly at the display.
"No. It's not Treize." He said simply, though he was unsure of how he felt for the duke, he knew it was not sexual love.
"Not Treize? What's wrong with you? I guess Space Hearts are immune to sex appeal. Well then. .. how's about. .. Nichol!" Gloriana shrieked.
Even Quatre laughed at this.
"Lieutenant Nichol? Glori, what is wrong with you?" Quatre asked, breathless. She waved it off.
"I'm just kidding! Besides, everyone knows that Irea's got the hots for that hunk'o'man!"
She broke into hysterics.
However, the rest of the room remained in stunned silence.
Gloriana continued to laugh but the group cringed as Irea's face first become pale, then red, then purple with rage.
"I HATE THAT MAN!!!!" Irea finally lost it and threw herself at her little sister, who was powerless due to the intense taxation of her body by means of hiccupping laughter.
"Oh, Irea!" Quatre giggled and watched his sisters beat the hell out of each other. Beaming, he finished his waffles with relish (well, with whipped cream and strawberries) and started in on another serving.
"So. . .anyway. . ." Lara interrupted his quiet time. " Who is this charming person, Quatre? We're all dying to know who it is. I mean, we don't even know if it's male or female- With Quatre it could be anything. He could've fallen for the willow tree in the backyard. Love all living creatures- you're such a hippie, Quat. But. . Hell, we're just going to have to keep calling it "it" until you throw us a bone, Quatre. . ."
"Master Quatre!"
Suddenly, the wide oak doors swung open and the room was filled with L4 weasels. .ahem. .politicians. They ruthlessly invaded the Winner parlor. The L4 Deputy Prime Minister, The 'Honorable' Smithy Values approached the young beaurocrat with sweaty and clawing hands.
"Master Quatre, thank goodness we found you! You must come with us to the cabinet meeting." Deputy Prime Minister Values thrust his corpulent body between Quatre and the young man's food. He continued, totally unaware of the fact that he'd just ruined Quatre's day. "Master Quatre. . .Master Winner, we have a speech prepared for you and air time booked for this afternoon. We must get you over to the parliament house so you can address the council and the colony before this situation gets any worse. Please sir, will you come with us?"
Quatre sighed. He knew that he had to go- there was no two-ways about it. However, he'd never even been to a cabinet meeting and knew virtually nothing about the proceedings.
"I. . .I. . ."
"Master Winner, all you have to do is read the speech the writers have prepared for you- that's all. We have arranged all the rest. Please, allow us to escort you to the parliament buildings."
Quatre gave Irea his most pathetic look. She rolled her eyes.
"You better get going, Mr. Head of the Household. I'm sure you'll do fine. You know how to read, and we all know you know how to speak. So get going. You look great. . ."
Sighing, Quatre rose from the table and nodded. He slipped into a professional persona and nodded to the hoard of plutocrats and political rats.
"Lead the way, gentlemen. The people of L4 must be comforted."
"My fellow citizens of the L4 colony cluster,
This is a time for grieving. Our enterprising Colony Director, Master Raberba Randolph Winner, was assassinated by a terrorist group during peace talks with the Romefellar Foundation four days ago. His colony weeps for him. However, From death comes rebirth, and here to explain the future of the L4 Colony is the future of the Winner Foundation, our new Colony Director, Master Quatre Raberba Winner."
"My dear people, before his death, my father was involved in a series of negotiations with the Earth-Colony Sphere Alliance, and its umbrella organization, the Romefellar Foundation. Alongside Grand Duke Treize Kushrenada, my father had planned to j. . .join with the Romefellar Foundation in hopes to bring a new type of prosperity to the L4 cluster. Our new relationship with earth will bring more resources to our peoples and will ensure our continued success. I know that my father would. . .w. .would w. .want us to carry out this proposal and accept the Earth-Colony Sphere alliance as a nurturing benefactor. As a result, the role of Colony Director will now be assigned to the nominated L4 chair residing on the Romefellar council. Until further notice, I will be inheriting my father's place as the L4 chair. Once the system has been fully worked out, we will announce the official positions involved in the Romefeller-L4 relationship. My people, I loved. . .love. .. my father very much and I hope that we can all work together to bring peace and affluence to our colony. I. . would like to make him proud, so I entreat you, my people, to help me keep his ideals alive. Thank you. Any and all questions from the floor will be addressed to my councilors."
The garden was a Utopian solace for Quatre post-parliamental address. His most favorite spot was under the weeping willow, where his view of the world was tempered by the delicate dripping branches, and where the world's view of him was cast aside due to temporary obscurity.
He felt so cheap.
Terrorist attacks. . .peace talks with Oz. . . .the Winner ideals. ..
Lies. Sick and twisted Earth-lies.
Quatre had cried himself dry, so he had no tears left to mourn his moment of political prostitution.
Reaching above his head, bitter Quatre grabbed a handful of leaves and whipped them into the breeze.
'Father. . .Oh father, I'm so sorry. . .I. . .wish I could apologize for loosing sight of the Right, but, frankly, I don't think I've ever known what the Right is. . .All I know is that I've betrayed you. . I'm useless and dominated and. . .an unworthy heir. S. .sorry.'
He rested his head against the unyielding trunk and picked at the grass. Even the hermit thrush's song could not cheer his countenance.
"Master Quatre."
An obscured figure addressed him from outside the willow-haven. Quatre glared at the figure and ignored the requesting tone of the soldier's voice.
"Master Quatre."
"I am presently indisposed." He exclaimed haughtily and sniffed like a royal brat. In all honesty, Oz's presence was beginning to disturb him and he hated the throng of strange faces presently residing in his home.
"Master Quatre, I do hope you are well."
Quatre prepared a rude comment for the intruder. However, as the soldier entered the willow-sanctuary, Quatre bit his tongue and hung his head, suddenly overcome by his childishness.
'I'm so ridiculous. . .I hate myself.'
"Your excellency." Quatre began to rise, but with a smile Treize motioned for the cooling grass. Quatre was slightly flabbergasted as Treize sat beside him in the grass and handed him a mug of warm tea.
"Call me Treize, Quatre. And I've been searching for you, Mr. Winner." Treize murmured, bemused. " I'd hoped that our evening chats could become somewhat traditional, especially now that you are officially part of Romefellar."
"I. .." Quatre had no way of replying to that. But Treize continued.
"I sent Nichol to collect you, however, he was unable to locate you. Considering the events of the day, I realized that you'd probably retired to your own place of retreat. . ." Grimacing, Treize rolled a blade of grass between his thumb and middle finger. "These soldiers. . .young and anonymous as they are. . .don't understand the burden of the political heir, Quatre. So I didn't bother to send Nichol for you- he probably wouldn't have found you, though, judging from your frown, you probably would've preferred that."
Blushing, Quatre shook his head.
"I'm sorry. . .I, don't mean to be rude. . ."
"You're not being rude." Treize responded critically. "You're entitled to your privacy and our presence has obviously hindered this right. You are such an honest person, Quatre. . ." Treize sighed and leaned his head against the bark. "And you lied today- you spun a whole web of pre-fabricated deceptions in order to restore political order. It's. . .hardly justifiable. I'm sure you've tried to justify your words today, but don't bother yourself about it. You are entitled to your hatred, as you are entitled to your sense of justice. I. . .was once like. . .that. . .you. . ." He stroked the weeping foliage. "It was easy to find you- I had a tree like this when I was younger. It was so old- older than this one. Hundreds of years old. I hid there from my uncle when he was unnecessarily cruel to me-when Romefellar was young, my ideals were clearer and when my place in society was more vague. That was. . .not so long ago, Quatre." Quatre met Treize's earnest aqua eyes. "Quatre, I will be twenty six next month and I have been my uncle's- Romefellar's- darling since I was your age. I fancied myself a knight- I was bred and raised on chivalry and justice. But now. . . I am lackey to a few dozen bored old men who cling to their impotent ideals and fight like individualized plagues opting for world domination. It sounds dramatic, unfortunately- lofty words for utterly wretched ideals."
If Quatre had been impressed by Treize before, he was now oozing with hero worship. But with it came questions.
"If the men of Romefellar are so perverse, why should L4- why should I- join them? I. . I don't want to be part of that, Treize! I don't want to be corrupted like that. I don't want my planet to be corrupted." His voice sounded so babyish!
"That's why you need to join, Quatre." Treize responded calmly. "To help purify the Foundation. The blood is too old and the ambition is no longer justified- it is greed. These wars. . .these attacks are meaningless. I find myself questioning every order I'm given. We attack utterly defenseless planets. It is one thing for the strong to dominate the weak- but to wound the innocent. . .this is the work of a monster."
"And knights are meant to slay monsters." Quatre whispered.
Treize's eyes widened kindly and he nodded.
"Precisely. You. . .are so like what I was, Quatre. . ." Treize's well-modulated voice was full of nostalgia. "And I'd like to think of that as a viable option- your ideals are so, so viable. With you, I can begin to purify Romefellar, and your presence will bring a balancing weight to the council. With a focused pacifist on the board, the decisions made by the council will be sound from both points of view. " He sighed. "We are now the Power That Is- we have dominated and amalgamated most of the society. To remain the proud and noble thing that we are, we must understand and sustain the delicate balance between subjugation and democracy. That. . .is why you lied today, Quatre. That is how it is justified in my mind. It violated your principles and innocence- I'm sorry- but it maintained the innocence of your people, and it keeps them controlled. It sounds harsh, but it's a human necessity."
Quatre nodded breathlessly. Treize was able to spin words better than anyone- every word he uttered burst with knightly propaganda. But Quatre was seduced- it made sense to him. He wanted to make the world a better place and he wanted to rid the governing society of corruption. The duke's words touched his soul profoundly.
Treize's gloved hand lightly settled on the boy's chest, just above his heart. A spark passed between them. Quatre gasped and stared in wonder at the duke.
"You're an empath. . .like. . .me." Quatre muttered, awed. Treize shook his head. "H. .how. . .?"
" I'm not like you- you're so strong, Quatre. I felt your kindness the moment I stepped off my ship. No. . .I have very little power- only enough to understand what you experience." The duke paused and smiled wryly. "I must confess- once Romefellar's spies had reported that there'd been an empath located on L4, I decided I needed to meet you. Truthfully, it was my primary intention in coming here. Romefellar had decided to invade already, so I asked to head the assault. I don't usually engage in battles- my lady or Colonel Merquise generally handle these sorts of things. But I thought.. . If I could just meet you and explain the plight of Romefellar. . .that you would understand the necessity of this purification. You. . .you feel my passion, don't you, Quatre? Do you know from what it spawns?"
Quatre closed his eyes.
"It's. . .your love of people. You. . .love people and. . .the meaning of each, solitary life." Quatre opened his eyes wide. "Everyone is important."
"Yes. Every single person." There was a tear in Treize's eye. "E. . ."He stumbled for the first time. "Even your father's death- as thoughtless as it was- was important."
Quatre quivered inside at the mention.
"W. .why?"
"Because it brought you and I together. He. . .is a martyr."
Quatre gasped and let loose the flood gates. Without even realizing it, he was taken into Treize's embrace and cried into the duke's shoulder.
"He died so we could bring peace and purification. So. . .really. . .you didn't lie today, Quatre. Combined, the Winner family and Romefellar will bring about the realization of your father's ideals."
Quatre sobbed. His eyes and nose leaked all over Treize's pristine coat, which made him apologize profusely and cry harder. But the kind duke stroked the fine, platinum blonde hair and held the over-stimulated boy.
"It's difficult. . .they say that kings don't cry. But kings have a million people to weep for- a million tears are hard to hold back, Quatre."
Sniffling, Quatre wiped his eyes and forced a rueful smile.
"I'm sorry. . ."
"What did I just say?" Treize asked patiently, but kindly. "You're allowed to cry, Quatre. Suppressing your feelings. . .it puts a locked door between you and your loved ones. .." Treize suddenly appeared pained. "And eventually. . .the key just gets lost. No matter how much searching you do. . ."
Quatre said nothing but watched the young duke's face, which was suddenly slightly pale. The young boy shrugged.
"As an empath, it's pretty difficult to suppress my emotions- I'm too busy trying to dispel everyone else's to build barriers against my own. I'm often driven by my emotions. . ."
"You have a strong heart- it's a good leader." Treize responded, smiling- brightening. Quatre blushed.
"It. . .likes to work overtime."
"The heart of a king."
Quatre began to protest the remark, but was interrupted by the sound of heavy army boots, slapping quickly against the sand. The sound stopped the Duke as well. Voices came into earshot.
"Lieutenant, I command you to stop. . ." A woman's voice- dark with frustration- pierced the tranquil air. There was a snort from another party.
"I am not officially under your jurisdiction, Colonel, and I do not believe that your decisions in this matter are in accordance with his Excellency's ideals. . ." A sharp tone colored an exquisitely crafted, heroic voice.
Out of the corner of his eye, Quatre caught Treize's frown and furrowed brow.
"All of my commands have been ordained by both his Excellency Treize and the Romefellar Foundation. You have overstepped your bounds and are in danger of being demoted. . ."
"You have every right to demote me, Colonel- I've overstepped my social caste, after all. . ."
"All formalities aside, you are being a spoiled, belligerent child. . ." The woman snapped. "Don't involve your inferiority complex in this matter- your background has nothing to do with this upcoming siege, nor has it ever been an issue. The issue is that you are overworked and exhausted and Romefellar has decided to grant you a bit of a holiday. As a reward."
"I don't need rewards- my reward is fighting and winning a well-fought battle, Colonel. And I'd rather not sit here on this crucified satellite like an ineffectual coward."
"The attack will go on as planned. . ."
"I formulated the god-damned strategy and Epyon is integral to its execution. Without my mobile suit, our attack will dissolve."
"Zechs will be taking your spot. . ."
"The modifications on the tall geese haven't been finalized. . ."
"You are staying on L4."
"You are committing martial suicide. . ."
"That's enough. . ."
"I demand to speak to Treize. I don't believe Romefellar would issue this order."
"You're right."
Sighing, Treize left the sanctity of the willow haven, pushing himself through the living, green curtain. The woman gasped and Quatre could hear the clicking of her boots.
"Treize. . .your excellency. What were you doing in . ." She trailed off.
"I was actually discussing politics with Master Winner- it was the only place we could find to have a private dialogue." At this, Quatre quickly rose to his feet and joined Treize and his subordinates in the open garden.
As he stepped out from behind the willow branches, he was met with the fierce gaze of Colonel-lady Une, who appeared both startled and unimpressed. But her expression melted into a smile as she extended her hand towards the Colony Director.
"Master Winner, a pleasure to meet you, sir. I am Colonel Une. You may know that I have been working with your sisters in order to maintain a peaceful and orderly environment in order to facilitate the discussions between L4 and Romefellar. I apologize for the lack of privacy- I will find and designate a room for business."
"Politics is often about improvisation- I rather liked our meeting au naturel." Quatre quipped. "But thank you for everything you've been doing, Lady." Quatre kissed her long-fingered hand. Her angular face was alight with flushed pleasure.
"What a charming young man! I see why his excellency speaks so highly of you." She exchanged a shy smile with the duke, who acknowledged their publicly known relationship with a small rub between her shoulder blades.
"Master Quatre will bring more to the political table than his wit, lady. I'm sure Romefellar will be proud to have such a distinguished individual at their table."
"You've officially ensnared him, your excellency- I see no reason for you to continue pampering his ego." A smooth voice, festooned with impatient sarcasm, interrupted the civil discussion. Quatre shivered though he was unaffected by the words. The voice. He turned.
He gasped.
"I'm sorry for my impatience, your excellency, but you interrupted our conversation with your dramatic entrance for a reason, did you not?"
Quatre's wondrous, gorgeous, perfect, poised, powerful and domineering pilot was also quite frank and crossed his arms irritably. Quatre bit his lip from gasping a second time.
The thrush-tamer was but a foot away. Quatre tried not to stare- he tried desperately- but the flashing jade eye was a seductive anomaly- like a tinted black hole. For a second the pilot met Quatre's eyes, softening his hard visage, but he turned back to Treize quickly and the expression was intensified.
" Of course." Treize answered. The pilot was unimpressed with the answer. After pausing for a count of five seconds, the young man snorted in disgust.
"Why have I been removed from command? The invasion AO2O6 was formatted with Epyon acting as a prime operative- I formulated the entire stratagem- It's my right to pilot Epyon in battle. . ."
"I'd rather not discuss this with you at the moment. . ." Treize answered. But it wasn't good enough for the pilot. Quatre was taken aback by his pilot's candor.
"This is the only moment to discuss this, Treize." The boy's jaw set firmly. Treize put a hand to his temple.
"Nanashi, I personally removed you from your command. It was an executive decision based on the test data we took during your last physical. . ."
'N. . Nanashi? Is that his name? Strange. . .but beautiful. Nanashi. . .I wonder what it means?'
"You need a break. Your body is falling apart. . ." Treize stated simply.
"Y. . .you? You're punishing me for. . ."
"Just until we get the mind link up system working- Doktor S. is coming tomorrow with Marimeia, he's going to run some tests. . ."
"Marimeia. . ." Nanashi fell back two steps. "That means Dekim is coming. . ." He whispered.
"Dekim. . .Barton? But he's not scheduled to visit L4 until next week." Quatre murmured, a little lost in the conversation. Treize turned his attention from the distraught pilot to the confused space king.
"He just called in to say that he was going to stop by for the morning- he's transporting my daughter and mecha engineers over from L3. Don't concern yourself too much, Quatre. . ."
"I have to go tomorrow morning." Nanashi exclaimed coldly, staring at the ground.
'He's upset- I can feel it. He's hiding behind his hair. . .how convenient.'
"Your excellency, I humbly request that my civilian-status be revoked until we have procured the cooperation of the A0206 colony. . ."
"Denied." Treize interrupted. "You are not to enter the mecha hold until you've been reinstated, and you are to report to Dr. Irea Winner tomorrow morning- she has your test results and has some issues she needs to discuss with you. After your appointment, you will meet with Doktor S. who will be conducting some experimentation with the zero system. You will not set foot in the Epyon mobile suit until we have your brain wave readings back from the lab. Do I make myself clear, Lieutenant?"
Treize spoke leisurely but firmly- his tone of voice obviously upset the already strung-out soldier. The boy's face was pale.
"Nanashi?"
The pilot didn't respond- the look on his face frightened Quatre and upset him.
'He doesn't look it, but he's so scared. . .. What is he afraid of?'
"Lady Une?"
"Yes your excellency."
"Will you please contact Colonel Zechs and relay Nanashi's strategy. Talk to Otto and make sure that the zero system is rendered inactive in the Tall Geese."
"Certainly. Your excellency, Master Quatre." She gave a curt nod toward each gentleman, shook her head in Nanashi's general direction, and left quickly. Upon her exit, Treize put a hand on Quatre's shoulder.
"If you'll give me a moment, I should like to walk with you in the garden again."
"C. . .Certainly. I'll just sit there- on the stone bench- and wait."
"I won't be long." Treize responded, and turned back to the handsome young pilot, who stood on the hill, looking down at the ground. Quatre sat and watched. He was out of earshot- he wasn't sure if he wanted to hear any of it anyway. Nanashi's voice had upset him- the things he said. . .were cold and emotionless. Mechanical. So Quatre contented himself to gaze at Nanashi's proud profile, black against the low sun. Treize strode up the hill and took the boy by the shoulders.
'Treize will calm his fear- he must feel it. Something is not right. He's too upset. . .How does he not show it on his face?'
Atop the hill, Nanashi pulled away from Treize to hug himself and stare down at the grassy carpet.. His body language upset Quatre- there was an obviously uncharacteristic skittishness and awkwardness and Quatre could feel that it upset Treize as well.
Treize reached out his hand and caught the boy around the waist. The duke used the second hand to cup the strong, angular face gently, speaking close to the pilot's face, never breaking eye contact. Quatre suddenly shivered- a sick feeling pooled and settled at the bottom of his stomach. He was uneasy, though he wasn't sure exactly why.
Treize spoke for a few minutes- interrupted twice by Nanashi's distraught protestations. The hand cradling Nanashi's cheek slipped down to his chin and stroked it between thumb and index finger. Quatre's breath caught in his throat.
'W . . .What is going on? W. . .what is he doing?'
He involuntarily shuddered.
'N. . no. no.'
His blue eyes fell to Treize's hand, nestled protectively in the small of Nanashi's back. Treize used the position to bring the boy closer, so that they were almost nose to nose.
'n. .no.'
The hand at Nanashi's chin moved up the pilot's face to stroke his shining hair. Quatre began to shake his head unconsciously.
'n. . never. . .can't. . .'
Treize's hand caressed the honey brown hair and finally settled on the back of the boy's head. Quatre gasped repeatedly as his fantasies, hopes, dreams and deepest wishes were all shot to hell.
'NO. God , no, STOP!'
The duke's lips fell upon his subordinate's and they kissed deeply. At first, Nanashi was hesitant, but quickly melted into the tender embrace, wrapping his arms around the older man's neck.
Quatre cried out softly and fell to his knees.
He watched helplessly, desperately clawing at the cobblestone ground. The pain was suddenly overwhelming. His empathy was attacking him again.
His broken heart was his own worst enemy.
'Treize. . . my. . .friend. . .NO.'
Wild with bewilderment, he stumbled backward and fell over the garden hedge. Shaking from head to toe, he crawled into the deep shrubbery and hugged his legs.
'He. . .Nanashi. . .belongs to. . .no. . .I can't belie. . .Treize. . .'
"Oh god, Treize." Quatre whispered through panicked breaths. "You. . .you have. . .the only thing I've ever wanted. . .thrush. . .Nanashi. . ." Quatre choked down a gob of depression.
Treize. . .
His excellency.
'My friend. . .'
And his lovely Nanashi- his 'boy'.
His. . .boy.
Treize's.
Treize's. . .acquisition?
Protégé?
. . .whore?
Quatre hung his head in wanton shame and when Treize returned to 'collect him' he kept silent and invisible.