Notes and disclaimer in Prologue.
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Sure Thing Chapter FourQuatre sat frozen, gaping across the table at the older man, who smiled pleasantly back at him. "Marriage? You want Hilde and I to marry?" He asked in disbelief.
"Quatre, it seems the best thing to do. It would be a great union. And you two seem to like each other." Iria said placidly.
Her brother stood quickly and spun to face her. "Why didn't you bother to inform me about this beforehand? Did you know, Hilde?"
Hilde shook her head. "This is the first I'm hearing about this as well. Were you going to tell me before, cousin, or were you waiting for us to be standing at the altar in the middle of our vows?" She asked bitingly. Thatcher didn't even flinch, just cast her a glance said very clearly it wasn't her business or problem to worry about. Hilde crossed her arms and leant back, her face closed stubbornly.
Quatre looked accusingly at his sister. "You didn't consider either of our feelings before deciding on this matter, did you? Iria, I'm no longer a child! I have a say so in my life, especially my own marriage. And truthfully, I wouldn't want Hilde to marry me. It's nothing against her, she's a perfectly wonderful woman, and any man would be lucky to have her as his wife. But it would be unfair for her to marry me! As kind as she is, I don't think either of us would be happy in this marriage."
"And why not, Quatre? If you're concerned about love, that could come later." Iria said in the same mild tone. Thatcher snorted. "Who said love had anything to do with marriage?"
"It has a lot to do with marriage, but that is not what worries me at the moment. There is a far bigger issue here, which I must speak about with my sister in private. Give us some time to discuss things, Mr. Thatcher." Quatre said feeling exasperated.
"Very well," Thatcher raised an eyebrow in warning, "You had better reach a decision quickly, Mr. Winner. There are many others who are offering far more for such a union."
"Of course." Quatre muttered, thinking it would be better for Thatcher to simply accept another man's offer. Hilde was frowning at her cousin. Quatre decided to address the poor girl. "I am so sorry you have to be put through this, Hilde. It is your life as well, and I personally believe you should have the right to choose your husband, not have the decision made for you."
"Thank you, Quatre. The same is for you. Now, don't get me wrong, you are a perfectly personable man, I just don't think we would work together. You deserve someone," she paused and Quatre could have sworn he saw her cast a quick glance at Trowa who was sitting in apparent shock still at the end of the table, "who would understand you and accept everything about you."
Thatcher stood slowly. "Now that we have finished with these commiserations, we shall be taking our leave. Iria, thank you very kindly for the meal, and Quatre, I hope to hear from you soon. Hilde, shall we?"
Iria stood as well, following Thatcher and his young cousin as they mad their way to the door. As soon as they had left the house, Quatre collapsed in his chair, cradling his head in his hands. "That was terrible." He muttered.
There was a hand clasped gently on his shoulder. He looked up to see Trowa smiling down at him. "You pulled through wonderfully though. I've never seen someone refuse something so politely, Quatre. That scene just reminded me how much I love you." Quatre smiled broadly as Trowa leant down and planted a soft kiss on his lips.
"So this is why you were protesting so much, Quatre." Iria had chosen that exact moment to walk through the doorway. Quatre blushed and looked up at the love of his life, who squeezed his shoulder gently.
He took a deep breath and turned to face his sister. "Iria, there is something very important I have to tell you."
"Well, now I understand a lot more of why you have been so against marriage, Quatre. I really am happy that you've found someone and your own happiness, I just wish you had told me sooner." Iria said from her seat across the table from her younger brother.
He smiled sheepishly back at her, he and Trowa's hands clasped tightly. "In truth, I wasn't sure about many things myself until yesterday. I was going to tell you this morning, but it didn't really work out."
"I can see how it wouldn't. Well, Quatre, I think we have much to work out and discuss. The first thing being breaking the news to Thatcher." Her eyes softened as she looked at Quatre. "But not until tomorrow. I shall go out and make some excuse."
Quatre shook his head no. "As much as I appreciate that, I think I should be the one to tell Mr. Thatcher. It is my responsibility, after all."
Iria nodded understandingly. "Of course." She turned her gaze on Trowa, "And as for you. I would never have imagined that you would be the one to steal my little brother away from me."
"I am not stealing him. We are going to remain here, on the farm." Trowa said simply, and she smiled.
"That sounds like a good plan. Well, then I shall stay as well, and we shall be one happy family."
Quatre frowned. "As much as this may be a worn topic, what about your own marriage, Iria?"
His sister shrugged, standing and exiting the room quickly. "We'll find out about that later." She called over her shoulder.
"Now she has no excuse to avoid this," Quatre's frown deepened.
"Frowns do nothing for you," Trowa murmured, before leaning in and kissing him deeply. "There you go," he said at the resulting smile, "that is a look I much prefer."
The next few months were the fastest in Quatre's life. Thatcher had been disappointed, though he had not questioned Quatre's explanation of not being ready for marriage yet. And Iria, well, she was full of surprises. It turned out she'd had her own beau on the sly, a well-off farmer and old friend of the family by the name of Thomas Jackson, whom Quatre approved of for his sister's selection. They had arranged the marriage quickly, and he'd never seen Iria as happy as she was after the wedding.
The loss of his sister's constant presence on the farm had had a great impact on Quatre, especially when he struggled to learn how to cook. It was actually Trowa who ended up doing most of the cooking, having had had some experience during his travels before arriving on the Winner farm. For Quatre, the time that passed seemed as if it were enchanted. He could only feel happiness, his days spent working next to Trowa, his nights spent enfolded in his love's arms. They still hadn't gone any further than gentle caresses and Quatre wished they could do more, but Trowa refused to until he was sure they were both ready for it. Quatre felt like telling him he wasn't made of spun glass, and wouldn't break when touched.
However, Trowa remained stubborn on this one aspect of their life, and Quatre decided to acquiesce…for the moment at any rate.
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A/N: This was a very short chapter, I know, and I'm sorry. It was just what I like to call a chapter that is the problem solver. WARNING: LEMON AHEAD! The next chapter has a LEMON. A YAOI LEMON! M/M RELATIONS! TWO GUYS DOING THE DIRTY DEED! DON'T LIKE DON'T READ AND IF YOU DO, DON'T FLAME! I'm assuming though, most of the people reading it this far have no problem with homosexual relationships, and are actually looking forward to a little lemon flavored 3x4 (or will it be 4x3…who knows ^_~). You might be asking why someone would read a story like this to their 5 year old niece. Well, let's assume Zechs has ripped out these particular chapters and will hold them until Mariemaia is old enough to handle them. ^_^ And don't worry Hilde people, we'll probably be seeing more of her later as well. This was sort of an introduction to her and her personality. Reviews are always welcome!