AN: I knew it had been a while since I updated, but I wasn't sure where to go. I had originally planned this part after another, longer part involving the oc Rohan and the military movements, but wasn't certain you all woudl go for it. It does happen through this part, but I sincerely doubted you would care so much, and it had been a while since the last update, I decided I'd give out a little of what was probably really wanted. This is a fan story anyway :) . I will put up the military part, but probably not until later. For the sake of continuity, though, know it happened. *waves* anyway, this is a weird and unproven bit. Hope you like it!
Kitten
____________________________________
Duo limped down a darkened, drafty hallway, and stopped only to rub his shin and wince, leaning against the cool stone walls. He suddenly had a grave appreciation for his common status after dropping what had to be tons of books and silverware on his foot. He set his foot down and limped along some more, trailing his hand against the wall for support until he gradually made the limp unnoticeable. He appreciated what Milliardo meant to do for him, but if in order to be presentable in court he had to be able to do half the things Milliardo had shown him, he'd rather wait behind the tapestries like all the other servants.
In his way, he thought, wincing, Milliardo had been trying to do him a favor, or, was trying to be kind to him; it was just that he was awkward. He pushed off from the wall and gritted his teeth a little, continuing in his journey. In a way, he was being like the parent he had posed as for the adoption. It was really kind of sweet...
a single click echoed down the hallway, interrupting his revery.
Duo froze and stared back into the blank face of darkness that had watched his back throughout his journey in the hallway. He couldn't help but feel his heart beat a fraction faster, and the urge to sweat despite the cold draft. He broke from his transfixion and trotted on, ignoring his sore foot in haste. He nearly ran, only preventing himself from bolting by thinking of the noise it would make in this hallway. He cursed himself for taking this route when he knew it was likely he'd be spotted, and most likely it would be by King Treize. Nearly as the though crossed his mind, he bumped gently into something solid and bounced back, faltering on the injured foot and falling against the wall. A leisurely grip on his upper arms prevented him from sliding to the cruel stone floor in the same way a too close body prevented him from feeling the coldness of the hallway except through the stone on his back.
"Careful," came the eerily calm voice, with a small curve of one royally molded mouth to accompany the gentle taunt.
Duo found himself shaking for a moment in his grip, his mouth opening and shutting like a startled shutter banging in the wind. He made a small attempt to wrest himself free without overly disturbing the king, but felt that slight grip tighten into something viselike just long enough to discourage the attempted escape. Treize moved closer, nearly able to look straight down on Duo as it was, and Duo tried to slide off to the left and out of his hold. This time, Treize tightened and kept his grip tight, moving back and bending just enough to have the end of his chin touch the tops of Duo's bangs. Duo shivered again, arching his back to take it away from the mocking wall that encouraged him with its chill and leaned against the monarch's arm, hoping the hint would allow him escape without injury...of either party. But Treize either overestimated his abilities, or underestimated Duo's will to resist with tooth and nail, because Treize lifted his left hand away and brought it to rest gently at Duo's ribcage, then across his waist as lightly as a leaf skimming a pond and up again to his face.
Duo jerked back, baring his teeth as much to hold his tongue as keep himself from biting. Treize just smiled his little, not-quite-present-in-this-reality smile at Duo's obvious displeasure and brushed his face gently once, then stood up straight. Duo used that moment to break, putting a good four foot distance between himself and Treize before he stopped and watched warily. Treize smiled,
"this hallyway is damp...unhealthy. I don't use it often. But should you ever decide to visit," he swept his hand briefly as if he were showing a ballroom to first time guests,
"I will be here, eventually."
Duo just frowned, one million thoughts of betrayal buzzing through his head at once, poised for a run in the opposite direction. He knew he shouldn't have risked this stupid hallway again. Treize lowered his shoulders in a slow bow,
"Waiting. For you, my favored."
The distant man then proceeded to turn and disappear quietly into the gaping darkness that had hidden the entire happening deep in its gullet like a curious, jealous spectator. Duo growled, thinking of all he'd been through to get here. His hands balled into tight fists and he glared into the darkness as if he could see the retreating back like an archer saw a bull's-eye. He turned on his heel and shivered, holding himself against what he'd felt, and thought of the blue eyed noble, doing him favors by teaching him to hold books on his head. A small consolation for a long journey, and he could only wonder how long he would have whatever protection he had now.
___________________
A reflection of bad times, the dark haired boy thought, or maybe just a bad reflection. He grimaced in disgust and swiping his hand across the crystalline surface of mirror as he turned away from it. It was unshakeably cold beneath his warm, damp palm and it made him shiver. He saw, now, lady Po walking up the stone corridor and taking out a handkerchief.
"You mustn't touch things like that; nasty mirror. Mirrors have been bad luck in your family for generations, Lord Heero."
She swiped the handkerchief across his cheek to banish an imaginary smudge before wiping his hand prints of the mirror, as well grabbing his hand wiping the bad luck from it.
She sighed, "oh, I can't imagine why that title doesn't roll of my tongue. IT is the proper title. How I wish they would give us some indication of your standing, but I've hardly seen a worthwhile servant in this place. I suppose sir would be better, but I can't tell if they regard you as duke or lieutenant any longer..."
Heero wished he could block all of her words from his ears, but he needed to listen to at least a little of this. That was Lady Po's sensitivity, to be aware of the harsh reality of the best informative lines in the castle, even though she distrusted servants. They needed to know what was going on. IT could be anything from a coup to a crowning. He didn't know himself, and if Lady Po didn't know then things were worse than he thought they were. He had desperate urges to run, smash all the mirrors in the confounded palace and scream and yell for an explanation of why he was here. He hadn't said a word since he arrived. Every thing he saw seemed to pull out any words he wanted to say and suck them into themselves, like the mirror. He knew it only made Lady Po talk more, because she was concerned. But what was she concerned about? She had nothing to worry about.
"Greasy mirrors, these won't do. Glad we don't have an of the ostentatious things in the castle at home..."
Heero let her fuss over him and the mirror and felt a rising dread twist his stomach like a soldier's twined meat and hold it above the fire as he saw a tall figure coming down the hallway. He couldn't say anything. His mouth..his throat didn't work. Will it! Will it! He wanted to scream at himself, but he made no reaction. Always no reaction...always no–,
"Come Heero."
He was seized by the arm and dragged away from the tall dark figure....who carried a silver tray...laden with minuscule hors d'oeuvres...and stopped outside a door in the hallway.
____
Heero wanted to curse himself, curse himself a thousand times. He punched his own thigh and experienced a quivering of fear that Lady Po would notice a bruise. He cursed again and held his head in his hands. He would curse himself a thousand times upon a thousand times if he could, but no noise escaped him through his constricted throat. The only sound that came from Heero Yuy was the small thump of his fist on his thigh, and that came like a the small breath of a startled assassin. But that wasn't the only breath he heard.
Duo nearly lost himself, stumbling forward through what had been marked, strangely enough, with a small sign that he could only hope was some encryption of the word 'exit'. He felt the draft of the tunnel shutting behind him, and took in a small involuntary breath as he took in the room -suite, rather- he now occupied. His first thought came to the odd statue set in a chair before him, the second to the flicking blue eyes that tore through him from the opposite mirror. He had stumbled through a panel in one of the 'guest' stuites and found himself a guest. Palpitations of fear quickened his blood as he stood, but the statue -person, he corrected his muddled thoughts- didn't move. In fact, all that moved were those ice flame eyes that now held steady on him. He faltered, staring at the scene in the available wall mirror across from him. He saw himself, startled, looking gangly, tall, bedraggled and pale, covered head to toe in scuffed black clothing from the orphanage, his face slightly streaked with dirt, standing behind the chair of the living statue, who sat immobile, barely betrayed by breath even, in the clothes of a high courtier, with the demeanor of a granite slab.
For a time, they stared, and nothing happened. Duo straightened and watched in the mirror. Slowly, the blue eyes moved to the mirror as well, and they waited.
Duo felt an unperformed gesture, heard an unsaid word. Fear gripped a stoic heart. Duo couldn't manage a parting flippancy, he turned with sluggish haste and stumbled towards the door like a man too tired to move, but moving with speed. He managed a smile now, quavery and sick, as he faced the door away from that scene, and felt a twinge of darkness in his heart. He knew he was running away, but his hand closed over the unadorned, warm doorhandle, and he fell onto it like a dying man pushing his way to escape. Behind him, he could feel cornered, as cornered as Duo's smile appeared, the other, left with no where to run to, turning to watch him make his escape.
Kitten
____________________________________
Duo limped down a darkened, drafty hallway, and stopped only to rub his shin and wince, leaning against the cool stone walls. He suddenly had a grave appreciation for his common status after dropping what had to be tons of books and silverware on his foot. He set his foot down and limped along some more, trailing his hand against the wall for support until he gradually made the limp unnoticeable. He appreciated what Milliardo meant to do for him, but if in order to be presentable in court he had to be able to do half the things Milliardo had shown him, he'd rather wait behind the tapestries like all the other servants.
In his way, he thought, wincing, Milliardo had been trying to do him a favor, or, was trying to be kind to him; it was just that he was awkward. He pushed off from the wall and gritted his teeth a little, continuing in his journey. In a way, he was being like the parent he had posed as for the adoption. It was really kind of sweet...
a single click echoed down the hallway, interrupting his revery.
Duo froze and stared back into the blank face of darkness that had watched his back throughout his journey in the hallway. He couldn't help but feel his heart beat a fraction faster, and the urge to sweat despite the cold draft. He broke from his transfixion and trotted on, ignoring his sore foot in haste. He nearly ran, only preventing himself from bolting by thinking of the noise it would make in this hallway. He cursed himself for taking this route when he knew it was likely he'd be spotted, and most likely it would be by King Treize. Nearly as the though crossed his mind, he bumped gently into something solid and bounced back, faltering on the injured foot and falling against the wall. A leisurely grip on his upper arms prevented him from sliding to the cruel stone floor in the same way a too close body prevented him from feeling the coldness of the hallway except through the stone on his back.
"Careful," came the eerily calm voice, with a small curve of one royally molded mouth to accompany the gentle taunt.
Duo found himself shaking for a moment in his grip, his mouth opening and shutting like a startled shutter banging in the wind. He made a small attempt to wrest himself free without overly disturbing the king, but felt that slight grip tighten into something viselike just long enough to discourage the attempted escape. Treize moved closer, nearly able to look straight down on Duo as it was, and Duo tried to slide off to the left and out of his hold. This time, Treize tightened and kept his grip tight, moving back and bending just enough to have the end of his chin touch the tops of Duo's bangs. Duo shivered again, arching his back to take it away from the mocking wall that encouraged him with its chill and leaned against the monarch's arm, hoping the hint would allow him escape without injury...of either party. But Treize either overestimated his abilities, or underestimated Duo's will to resist with tooth and nail, because Treize lifted his left hand away and brought it to rest gently at Duo's ribcage, then across his waist as lightly as a leaf skimming a pond and up again to his face.
Duo jerked back, baring his teeth as much to hold his tongue as keep himself from biting. Treize just smiled his little, not-quite-present-in-this-reality smile at Duo's obvious displeasure and brushed his face gently once, then stood up straight. Duo used that moment to break, putting a good four foot distance between himself and Treize before he stopped and watched warily. Treize smiled,
"this hallyway is damp...unhealthy. I don't use it often. But should you ever decide to visit," he swept his hand briefly as if he were showing a ballroom to first time guests,
"I will be here, eventually."
Duo just frowned, one million thoughts of betrayal buzzing through his head at once, poised for a run in the opposite direction. He knew he shouldn't have risked this stupid hallway again. Treize lowered his shoulders in a slow bow,
"Waiting. For you, my favored."
The distant man then proceeded to turn and disappear quietly into the gaping darkness that had hidden the entire happening deep in its gullet like a curious, jealous spectator. Duo growled, thinking of all he'd been through to get here. His hands balled into tight fists and he glared into the darkness as if he could see the retreating back like an archer saw a bull's-eye. He turned on his heel and shivered, holding himself against what he'd felt, and thought of the blue eyed noble, doing him favors by teaching him to hold books on his head. A small consolation for a long journey, and he could only wonder how long he would have whatever protection he had now.
___________________
A reflection of bad times, the dark haired boy thought, or maybe just a bad reflection. He grimaced in disgust and swiping his hand across the crystalline surface of mirror as he turned away from it. It was unshakeably cold beneath his warm, damp palm and it made him shiver. He saw, now, lady Po walking up the stone corridor and taking out a handkerchief.
"You mustn't touch things like that; nasty mirror. Mirrors have been bad luck in your family for generations, Lord Heero."
She swiped the handkerchief across his cheek to banish an imaginary smudge before wiping his hand prints of the mirror, as well grabbing his hand wiping the bad luck from it.
She sighed, "oh, I can't imagine why that title doesn't roll of my tongue. IT is the proper title. How I wish they would give us some indication of your standing, but I've hardly seen a worthwhile servant in this place. I suppose sir would be better, but I can't tell if they regard you as duke or lieutenant any longer..."
Heero wished he could block all of her words from his ears, but he needed to listen to at least a little of this. That was Lady Po's sensitivity, to be aware of the harsh reality of the best informative lines in the castle, even though she distrusted servants. They needed to know what was going on. IT could be anything from a coup to a crowning. He didn't know himself, and if Lady Po didn't know then things were worse than he thought they were. He had desperate urges to run, smash all the mirrors in the confounded palace and scream and yell for an explanation of why he was here. He hadn't said a word since he arrived. Every thing he saw seemed to pull out any words he wanted to say and suck them into themselves, like the mirror. He knew it only made Lady Po talk more, because she was concerned. But what was she concerned about? She had nothing to worry about.
"Greasy mirrors, these won't do. Glad we don't have an of the ostentatious things in the castle at home..."
Heero let her fuss over him and the mirror and felt a rising dread twist his stomach like a soldier's twined meat and hold it above the fire as he saw a tall figure coming down the hallway. He couldn't say anything. His mouth..his throat didn't work. Will it! Will it! He wanted to scream at himself, but he made no reaction. Always no reaction...always no–,
"Come Heero."
He was seized by the arm and dragged away from the tall dark figure....who carried a silver tray...laden with minuscule hors d'oeuvres...and stopped outside a door in the hallway.
____
Heero wanted to curse himself, curse himself a thousand times. He punched his own thigh and experienced a quivering of fear that Lady Po would notice a bruise. He cursed again and held his head in his hands. He would curse himself a thousand times upon a thousand times if he could, but no noise escaped him through his constricted throat. The only sound that came from Heero Yuy was the small thump of his fist on his thigh, and that came like a the small breath of a startled assassin. But that wasn't the only breath he heard.
Duo nearly lost himself, stumbling forward through what had been marked, strangely enough, with a small sign that he could only hope was some encryption of the word 'exit'. He felt the draft of the tunnel shutting behind him, and took in a small involuntary breath as he took in the room -suite, rather- he now occupied. His first thought came to the odd statue set in a chair before him, the second to the flicking blue eyes that tore through him from the opposite mirror. He had stumbled through a panel in one of the 'guest' stuites and found himself a guest. Palpitations of fear quickened his blood as he stood, but the statue -person, he corrected his muddled thoughts- didn't move. In fact, all that moved were those ice flame eyes that now held steady on him. He faltered, staring at the scene in the available wall mirror across from him. He saw himself, startled, looking gangly, tall, bedraggled and pale, covered head to toe in scuffed black clothing from the orphanage, his face slightly streaked with dirt, standing behind the chair of the living statue, who sat immobile, barely betrayed by breath even, in the clothes of a high courtier, with the demeanor of a granite slab.
For a time, they stared, and nothing happened. Duo straightened and watched in the mirror. Slowly, the blue eyes moved to the mirror as well, and they waited.
Duo felt an unperformed gesture, heard an unsaid word. Fear gripped a stoic heart. Duo couldn't manage a parting flippancy, he turned with sluggish haste and stumbled towards the door like a man too tired to move, but moving with speed. He managed a smile now, quavery and sick, as he faced the door away from that scene, and felt a twinge of darkness in his heart. He knew he was running away, but his hand closed over the unadorned, warm doorhandle, and he fell onto it like a dying man pushing his way to escape. Behind him, he could feel cornered, as cornered as Duo's smile appeared, the other, left with no where to run to, turning to watch him make his escape.