AN: Another chapter done! Thank you god!

Italics denotes thoughts

***** Denotes scene change

Ch. 3: Spoils of War

Quatre yawned boredly as the meal went on and on. Actually the meal was over this was after dinner dance and conversation. As he'd promised, Quatre had stopped by the kitchens before the banquet to send something up for Trowa. The cook had given him an odd look that clearly stated that it was not common castle gossip that he'd acquired a slave, yet. Well it would have spread to most of the household by morning. The royal court, however, was another matter. It would take an official court appearance for them to except Trowa.

Trowa… Quatre's curiosity was getting the better of him, but he couldn't help it. He wanted to know more about Trowa and Heero. How did they become soldiers so young? Why were they in Nord? Where were they really from?

"Your Highness?"

Quatre was dragged from his thoughts by duty.

"Yes Lady Dorothy?"

"Would you like to dance with me?"

Heaven help me… Quatre rolled his eyes. Nodding listlessly Quatre stood and led her out to the dance floor. As he moved through the dance with practiced ease Quatre examined his dance partner. She had originally been a delegate from the Nord Kingdom but after the war broke out she had been invited to stay. She gave Quatre the creeps. While she was always polite something about her reminded Quatre of a snake waiting to strike.

She was pretty he supposed with hair as long as Duo's and lighter than his own, sharp features, gray eyes, and ghostly pale skin. But then he could hardly talk; she had darker skin than he. No, Trowa looked nothing like her or him so where had he come from?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

They ate in silence, which struck Heero as strange. Duo hadn't really stopped talking even while he'd been working, muttering to himself and Heero the entire time. When a servant had brought them dinner the look of shock on her face upon seeing Heero sitting on Duo's bed had made the blue-eyed boy wonder. The braided boy was nothing close to what he had expected. He was intelligent but more than that he was… was…

Duo cleared his throat, setting his dishes aside. "I'm no fool Heero, so tell me. What is the real reason Dermail gave you to me?"

He was shrewd. Heero set aside his own, almost untouched plate.

"He never told the slaves what his intentions were." The word slaves was given a distinct twist.

"It figures, he thinks slaves are second class and to stupid to understand anything." Sighing Duo stood and looked out the window. Heero raised a questioning eyebrow at this seemingly contradictory statement, but said nothing. "What is he getting at…I wonder…"

Fingering the draperies around the window Duo looked out at the courtyard. The sun had gone down a little while ago and the soft flickering light of candles cast dancing shadows around the room.

"Look I know you can't be happy with this series of circumstances, but… I'll try to make this bearable."

Before Heero could comment Duo had strode to a large curtain made of what looked like black silk. Pulling it aside revealed a small room of sorts. A large bed with black and crimson silk sheets took up most of the space. The ceiling was low and hung with more silk curtains. From the wall several chains of iron fell to the floor, bolted securely.

"This is where you sleep, the chest at the end is where you put your stuff. Oh, by the way I picked this up from the seamstress on my way up." Duo explained grabbing the package from the bed and handing it to Heero. "Your uniform or whatever you came here in is being washed and mended for you. There should also be a set of gold slave's jewelry in there too."

Moving to take off the collar and cuffs Heero saw Duo reach out to help but he recoiled before actually touching Heero. After struggling with the collar a few minutes Heero felt gentle hands bat his away before moving to the clasp.

"There's a trick to it." Duo's voice was oddly quiet and subdued. "If you press on the latch instead of pulling on it, it'll snap open."

Heero heard a soft click and the ring of metal fell into his hands. Taking it from him, Duo threw the silver collar into the chest after he kicked it open. Holding one of Heero's wrists Duo worked the clasp open.

"You can't open these one-handed, trust me I know."

After removing bot cuffs and throwing them in the chest Duo picked up the package of clothing and opened it, putting most of the outfits away except a pair of pants similar to the ones Heero was wearing now, save they were dark blue. After lighting a candle on a wall sconce, Duo ducked out of the room, closing the curtain. Taking the hint Heero undressed and put the clothes in the chest before slipping into the silk pants.

Pushing aside the curtain, Heero exited the small alcove. Heero could see Duo's silhouette moving behind a dressing screen. It would be a simple task to kill the violet-eyed boy, but if he did so soon after being named the boy's slave, he'd be the prime suspect.

"Oh, hey! Didn't see ya there." Duo smiled after moving out from behind the screen. He wore loose black pants and a large baggy shirt. Placing his used clothes in a wicker hamper, Duo moved back to his desk, passing Heero on the way. He seemed ordinary enough; there was just something about him that spoke of experience beyond years. Neither Heero nor Duo was fooled by appearances. Deciding to wait Heero bade Duo goodnight and went to bed.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Quatre groaned as he slipped into his room. Shuffling to his bed he did a nosedive straight into the covers.

"I hate formals!" Quatre exclaimed into the sheets.

"You said that already."

Quatre jumped at the quiet voice and spotted Trowa still seated on the small couch before the window.

"Did you even move?" Quatre asked exasperated. Trowa gave him an odd look and nodded at a small low table. Upon it's polished marble surface a tray sat with several dishes, many untouched.

"Did you eat anything?"

"Yes, I ate what I recognized."

Quatre rolled his eyes, "Oh thanks for the vote of confidence."

A yawn broke through his speech.

"I believe you're tired master."

"Well you would be too if you had had to dance and fend off touchy matters for hours." Quatre grumbled.

"Touchy matters?"

"Mmmmm-hmmmm. Both personal and political. My personal views on public issues and my availability. Stuff like that."

"Availability? I'm afraid I don't understand master."

Quatre looked at Trowa a moment before answering. "How available am I for marriage. It's expected I take a wife."

"I suppose you don't want to get married master." Trowa's lips twitched as he saw the look on Quatre's face.

"No, and what's with all this master stuff? My name is Quatre, just Quatre. Not master, OR Your Highness, OR majesty so don't even try those.

"But in the court's presence…"

"Fine," Quatre cut in. "When we're alone or with Duo, you can call me by my given name, Duo does. And that is only because I don't relish the idea of you getting hurt because of me."

Trowa nodded and remembered the package that had been brought with dinner.

"Quatre?"

"Hmmm?"

"A package was delivered with my dinner."

"A package? Oh, it must be your other clothes."

Trowa nodded again, and remained silent. Quatre yawned again and got up to retrieve a pair of silk pants from a dresser. Slipping out of his clothes Quatre pulled the sleeping clothes on.

"There's a room behind the gold…curtain…?" Quatre lifted his head, looking around the room for Trowa, and nearly had a heart attack when the curtain beside him was pushed open. He wore a pair of tan silk sleeping pants and Quatre stared at the scars on Trowa's body. There weren't that many but they stood out vividly on the dark skin. Quatre tore his eyes away once he realized he'd been staring and mentally slapped himself.

"I'm sorry…"

Trowa shrugged, "What's done is done."

"But that must have hurt." Quatre said walking towards Trowa and laying a hand over a long white line. That wound had been the glancing blow of a long sword during battle; Trowa could remember the event perfectly. He'd fallen off his horse and was standing when a soldier from Sudest rode up and brought the blade down. Trowa felt searing pain as the blade sliced through his skin. He heard a gasp and was immediately back at the palace, in front of Quatre.

He was surprised to see the prince's large blue-green eyes were clouded with tears, a hand held over his heart the other trailed down the length of the scar, feeling the rough texture of healing skin. Their eyes met and Quatre jerked his hand away like he'd been scalded.

"I'm sorry…" the gentle voice quivered slightly. "I didn't mean to…"

"What did you do?" Trowa was a little shaken as well.

"I can…can um…sense things." Quatre replied licking his dry lips nervously.

"Sense what?"

"Feelings usually, but only as long as their very strong. But, I've never done that before."

"Done what?" Trowa persisted.

"Seen through another's eyes. Experienced an entire memory, if anything I usually only see vague concepts in emotional patterns." Quatre sighed sitting down. "My head hurts."

"Probably mental strain. Quatre who else knows about this talent?"

"My empathy? Duo, that's it. It doesn't happen often."

"You don't control it?"

A shake of the head answered Trowa, along with a loud groan.

"I have the worst headache."

"Well before you pass out, could you take these off of me?"

Quatre cracked an eye open and saw Trowa holding out his wrists on which the gold cuffs rested. Reaching up he unhooked the clasps and handed the bracelets back before crawling under the covers.

"Goodnight, Trowa." He called snuggling into the covers before closing his eyes. Trowa watched as the blonde's breathing evened out to the deep, steady rhythm of sleep. In the flickering candlelight Trowa studied Quatre's face relaxed in sleep. The strangely black lashes dark on skin as pale as the fresh lilies in Trowa's vague memories, the lips standing out pale pink and curved into a full cupid's bow. There was an identical light coloring over the cherubic cheeks. He was beautiful by any human standards and so small! Trowa's eyes traveled over the length of Quatre's body, he was curled on his side looking miniscule in the massive bed.

Shaking his head at the strange thoughts, Trowa returned to his curtained room. Ducking to avoid hitting his head, he placed the last of the jewelry away before climbing into the absurdly large bed and falling asleep.