You're my Possession
by
Anime the Fallen Angel
Underlined Italics – means time/ scene notes
Italics – means flashbacks / thoughts
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Chapter 10: Another day of knowing of the path I fear to tread.
Sunlight poured down on Barton-Arms. The Palace was a scurry of activity. Last minute decorating, catering, gathering invitations from arriving guests. The hustle and bustle seemed to hold a joyous air. The Prince is getting wed! A beautiful wife! A marvellous cake! A wonderful wedding day! These compliments were flying all around, congratulating the King and his to-be-wed heir.
Away from this main clatter and joy, Trowa was in his room. Sitting before the mirror, Trowa glared in contempt. Servants and valets were running around, helping getting his wedding clothes prepared on time. Finally, unable to take anymore, Trowa stood and turned to face them.
"LEAVE ME BE! LEAVE THIS ROOM!"
Startled, there was a lull before they shuffled out, heads down. Wufei came in, dressed in his finest celebratory robes just as the last servant left. He shut the door behind him and studied the back of the groom. Wufei cleared his throat.
"What did I tell you!? I said leave me be!"
"Is that anyway to speak to your best man?"
Trowa turned, surprised by the appearance of the other Prince. Trowa let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, Wufei. It's just that... I can't take all this..."
Wufei humphed but smiled, picking up the neatly pressed jacket off the bed. Poor Prince must be nervous. Wedding jitters. Wufei noted the colour; a Prussian blue that reminded him of someone he knew. Shaking his head clear of his wistful thoughts, Wufei looked back up at Trowa, who was now frowning at his reflection in the mirror.
"Aren't you going to get your jacket on? Or you'll be late for the ceremony."
Trowa looked at the jacket through the reflection on the mirror. The gold edges glinted at him, the blue material beckoning to be put on. Trowa turned and took the jacket from Wufei. He paused for a moment before speaking.
"Wufei... have you ever had the feeling where you want to do something right, but... at the same time, whichever decision you make, it will be the wrong one?"
Wufei frowned for a moment. "What are you saying, Trowa? You don't want to get married? I admit, it all has been a little sudden."
Trowa sighed and started pulling the jacket on. "No, I don't want to get married." Looking up, Trowa met Wufei's eyes. "Not wanting to insult you, but I don't want to walk down the aisle with your sister."
Wufei studied Trowa for a moment. "Why not?"
Trowa fumbled with his buttons for a minute. Finally, he looked back up again. "My heart's for another, but... It's complicated."
"Do you truly love this other person?"
"Yes."
"Then why didn't you say before we got to all this?"
"Like I said... it's complicated. Haven't you ever loved someone who others don't approve of?"
Surprisingly, Wufei was caught slightly off guard by the question. Wufei turned and lifted the ceremonial sword off the bed, making like he was inspecting it. "I suppose there was... someone."
"What happened?" Trowa asked, curious.
"I'd like to keep that private."
Trowa looked at Wufei's back and shrugged. Might as well leave him. Walking to take the sword from Wufei, Trowa fastened the blade to himself. Wufei straightened his own jacket.
"Listen, Trowa. You make your own decisions in life. In the end, we all are forced to make hard decisions. We just need to listen inside to know which one is the best one to make."
Trowa nodded, buckling the belt in place. Without taking a final inspection in the mirror, Trowa pushed open his door and made way to the main hall, where the ceremony was being held. Wufei followed behind, pitying the both of them.
******
"You, thief, Come out!"
Quatre struggled against the guard's pull on his chains. He still had some fight in him. He needed to get to Trowa. Mumbling as loudly as he could through the metal gag, Quatre attempted to pull against the guard. Pity the guy was built like a treasury room... The walk was long and tedious. Purposefully, Quatre would trip over, trying to buy more time. It couldn't go on for long. Quatre soon tired.
Sunlight shone too brightly on the chopping block only metres away now. The sunlight glinted off all the things that didn't seem to deserve the sunlight. The sharp edge of the blade; the equally sharp creases of the executioner's robes; the polished, well used block...
A cold shiver ran down Quatre's spine. The eyes of the executioner was too bloodthirsty; his hands too eager to start chopping. Fear made him pale. This was it. Only a ten metre walk... The longest path Quatre ever had to walk...