You're my Possession
by
Anime the Fallen Angel
Underlined Italics – means time/ scene notes
Italics – means flashbacks / thoughts
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Chapter 7: Trying to find an honest word, to find the truth enslaved...
Music Room, Barton Palace
"Well?" Quatre asked.
"I remember..."
******
A low rumble in Trowa's stomach told him he was hungry. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to have skipped breakfast with his father, but the king had been in a funny mood recently. Trowa snuck into the kitchen and looked around for something edible. A small crash caught the prince's attention. Trowa ran to the end of the kitchen the crash came from. A sight greeted his eyes. Fruit was everywhere on the floor, along with trails of sugar all over the place. A smashed canister revealed the source of the sugar, wicker baskets the former holding places of the fruit. In the midst of the small mess was what Trowa thought to be a scared looking angel. It was a few seconds later that Trowa realised that it wasn't a halo ringing the angel's head, but rather, the sun directly behind him, and that the angel wasn't really an angel, but a simple peasant boy.
"Who are you?"
"I... I'm Quatre..."
"I like your name... Quatre. It's unusual. I'm Trowa."
The blonde boy smiled at Trowa. "Yours is unusual, too. It has a certain ring to it."
That was how the boys met. Trowa rescued him from persecution from the guards and even from his father, the King. The two boys were best of friends, both having never had a true friend before. There was only one time that the boys weren't together, and that was during Trowa's lessons. One day, during a music lesson, Trowa flung his flute aside in frustration.
"It's useless. Who wants to learn how to play such a weak instrument anyway!?"
"Your Highness..."
"Leave."
When the music teacher left the music room, Quatre walked in, hearing the commotion. After admiring the room for a while, he picked up Trowa's flute. "You know... you shouldn't give up so easily."
"It's hard to play. It's hard to learn."
"Tell you what. Why don't we learn together?"
"What do you mean?"
"I'd like to learn how to play an instrument... I've always wanted to play the violin."
Trowa thought for a while and nodded. "That's a good idea. If we learn together, we might learn faster..."
So the boys practised playing music together. In the end, they had composed their own melody that complimented each other's instrument. That was one seal in their friendship and impending love. The next was when Quatre trusted Trowa enough to divulge his greatest secret; his power, when Trowa had a cut on his leg whilst they were wrestling. Then there was that fateful time in the treetops, where they were close to sharing their first kiss without realising. However, through the whole thing, Trowa was fighting a secret battle against his father, who had tried time and time again to make Trowa get rid of the blonde peasant, once trying to corrupt Trowa's mind, and another by trying to make Quatre seem insignificant and petty. Finally, Trowa had been threatened with shame and being disowned. He was told that by being disowned, he will take away the one hold that kept the kingdom together and the whole kingdom safe. It was then the day he faced his hardest decision...
"Well, Trowa? What will you do? Will you keep this boy and taint the royal name? Or will you carry out your royal duty and cast him away like the rodent he is?"
******
Trowa looked into Quatre's eyes now, having poured out his heart to the little angel. Quatre smiled at Trowa, happy to be reunited with his prince. Quatre squeezed Trowa hard.
"I'm so glad we remember, Trowa. Until now, I was beginning to think..."
"Thank what?"
"...Nothing..."
Quatre released Trowa and smiled again, brighter and more angelic. Trowa took Quatre's hand into his own but winced slightly. The two looked down at Trowa's hand, which was bleeding. The two boys remembered their earlier struggle, with the shattered conductor's baton.
"One of the shards must of cut my hand..." Trowa noted.
Silently, Quatre took up Trowa's hand and placed his own over the cut. A soft glow, and Trowa's hand was as good as new. Trowa smiled at Quatre and kissed him softly on the cheek.
"You didn't have to do that... Thank you..."
The two boys stood up, not willing to let the other go just yet. The boys realised where they were again. Picking up his fallen flute, Trowa looked at it to Quatre. Allowing his eyes to wander, Trowa looked at a nearby violin.
"You know... for years after you left, I still played our song, but never remembered what was missing... Quatre, would you play with me, one more time?"
"It'll be my pleasure..."
So for a while, the angel and the prince played the violin and flute to their hearts' content, finally completing the tune they both had momentarily lost.
******
Elsewhere in the palace
"Well, Regent Chang. I think Trowa would be pleased with the arrangements. This would benefit our kingdoms greatly."
The dark haired ruler of the Chang Empire nodded. "I'm very happy to hear that, King Barton. I'll take my leave now. My son will stay behind and the procession should be arriving tomorrow."
A soft knock on the door interrupted the two men. "Enter." bellowed the King. A guard walked into the room and bowed.
"Your Majesty. The prisoner has escaped."
"Which prisoner?"
"The one your son had apprehended yesterday afternoon, sire."
"Well, what are you doing here!? Search the grounds to make sure he isn't still here!"
"Yes, sire."
The guard left, leaving the King and Regent alone again. The King smiled at the Regent but paused when he saw the man tilting his head slightly.
"Anything wrong, Regent?"
"Such lovely music... can you hear it, Your Majesty?"
King Barton listened out. With a small start, he realised he recognised the tune. The flute was obviously his son, Prince Trowa. He'd always played that tune. The violin, however... King Barton forced a grin on his face. "Yes. My son. He's quite a musician. Must have... his old music teacher and himself must be just playing some composition. When did you say you were leaving?"
"I'm afraid I must take my leave now."
"That's fine, your Regent. Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
King Barton's smile fell when the Regent left. He immediately opened another door and called over a guard. "Yes, sire?"
"Go immediately to the music room. Find out who's playing with Trowa and report back to me."
The guard bowed and left immediately. The king snarled. If that peasant boy returned and he and Trowa had rekindled their past… The King took a deep breath to steady his nerves. No, he won't lose his temper. There might even be a way to turn the situation to his advantage...
******
Music Room, Barton Palace
The two boys end their melody, both smiling. Trowa then remembered something and lowered his flute.
"Quatre; you need to leave the palace. You're still considered a prisoner, and I don't want you to be hurt."
Quatre replaced the violin to its rightful place, a little sad, but nodded, understanding. "How can I though, Tro? Aren't there guards everywhere?"
So the two boys snuck around the palace. A few times, Trowa had to offer a distraction to the guards to allow Quatre to sneak away. In the end, both boys ended up by the servants' gate, with the road leading to the village. Trowa held Quatre for a moment, both unwilling to let go.
"Tro... when will I see you again?"
"As soon as possible, Quatre; there're some things I need to sort out. I'll come into the village tomorrow morning. Wait for me by the oak tree just outside."
Trowa and Quatre parted a little and stared into each other's eyes. Finally, Trowa gave the blonde a passionate and gentle kiss. With concern in his voice for any approaching guard, Trowa spoke. "Now run. I'll see you tomorrow."
Quatre nodded wordlessly and turned, his legs quickly taking him away from the palace. Trowa ran a hand through his hair and sighed. A whirl of emotion and questions ran through him. Should he tell his father? Should he simply run away? What about the stability of the kingdom? Why hadn't he admitted his feelings for Quatre when they were younger? Long after Quatre had ran out of sight, Trowa turned and walked back into the palace, deciding to collect his thoughts to come up with a plan. Unknown to him, in the shadows, a guard acting as a spy had also turned back to the palace to inform the King of recent events.