AN: Well here it is…. Another chapter…. Another few hours of my life spent on nothing… Ain't it great!
Warnings: Violence…not to the G-boys so I guess it's ok, Dermail being a prick (as usual), not a whole lot…Trowa being cutesy and protective (not of Quatre) (Collective groan from the audience) Ok, ok I get it. I'll have some romance soon. I promise.
Disclaimer: Cancers are red
Pisces are blue
I don't own Gundam Wing
So you can't sue
Italics denotes thoughts
****** Denotes scene changes
Spoils of War: Ch. 12
Quatre watched Duo talking rapidly to Heero. The braided boy was obviously trying to persuade the other boy. Heero only shook his head. After a few more minutes, Duo stomped back to where Quatre was standing.
"No luck?" the blonde asked.
"He's more stubborn than I am." Duo grimaced.
"I can't believe he's going into a sword fight with only his clothes and a sword." Quatre watched Heero's opponent, a very large man who wore chain mail armor. "Is he crazy?"
"I don't know! I just wish this would start already." Duo moaned.
When they had reached the stables, Heero had been told to gather what he'd need and report to the courtyard. Trowa had been told to ready his horse and his equipment. Then Duo and Quatre had been ushered out to the courtyard, despite protests, to watch. They'd been thoroughly surprised when Heero came up with only his sword. And two scabbards at his side. This sword was different than his first. I was about three feet in length, was oddly curved, and had a blade on only one side. Duo had tried to coax him into wearing some armor but the boy had flatly refused. From across the courtyard, Duke Dermail smiled nastily at the braided advisor. Curbing the childish urge to stick his tongue out at the man, Duo turned his attention back to Heero. The Estern slave seemed to be sizing up his opponent. The match began with the customary face-off and drop of the handkerchief. Before the cloth was dropped the crowd witnessed an odd spectacle. Heero stood straight and bowed from the waist very solemnly before slipping into a defensive pose.
He held his sword in the oddest fashion, in front of himself with hands; his feet shoulder width apart, the right slightly forward. Dermail's soldier rushed forward, chain mail clattering. In addition to the armor he wore, the man also carried a shield. Heero dodged and parried with familiar ease, but as he struck, each thrust or swing of his own sword was met with the shield or his opponent's blade. It soon became apparent why Heero carried only a sword as a strong downward slash from his opponent's was met with a horizontal bar of steel. Heero used it as both bar and shield. Heero held it up with both hands, one on the hilt the other on the dull side of the sword. With an incredible show of strength the man pushed Heero back, making the smaller boy bend backwards
Arching his back, Heero allowed gravity to pull him down. Using his free hand, Heero braced his body, using his momentum to swing his legs around. When he was upright again, he was a foot or two away from his gapping challenger. Reaching behind himself, Heero drew another much shorter sword, it looked to be a little more than two feet long and was curved like the first. With an odd battle cry, Heero charged his challenger. The man had little time to dodge and block as Heero began to rain rapid blows from both hands with obvious experience. Heero continued his barrage despite its seeming ineffectiveness. Then abruptly he stopped and stepped back. Sheathing both swords, Heero moved into a strange position where he was almost crouching and his hands were up. Bewildered but seeing his opportunity the older man lunged for Heero's helpless figure.
"Are you crazy!?!?!?!" Duo's voice rang from the sidelines but Heero ignored him.
Dodging under the long sword's blade, Heero got inside the man's defenses and shoved the heel of his hand into the soldier's jaw. A cracking noise rang out as the man's head snapped back, followed by his cry of pain. The messy-haired boy didn't even pause and his opponent's armor proved useless against Heero's technique. After a series of low punches, Heero dropped down and kicked the man's feet out from under him. Moving under the man's body, Heero caught him and threw the near limp body several feet. Unsheathing the smaller of the two swords, Heero charged at the man's prone form. Raising the blade, he brought it down unmindful of the man's expression of terror.
Duo winced as he heard the blade slice through something. Quatre looked horrified.
"Heero?" Duo's soft inquiry did not go unnoticed by the boy crouched next to the still body. The blue eyes turned to look into violet. "Is he…"
Heero shook his head and moved away showing the sword was only a hairsbreadth away from the now unconscious man's throat.
"Oh, well that's ok." Duo smiled, "That was amazing! How did you do that?"
"I've trained myself to handle a variety of weapons. These were my first swords. They are from my homeland." Heero showed Duo the curved blade and light make.
"What are they?" Duo ran his hands over the hilt and back of the blade.
"It's a katana. Soldiers from my home use them."
Hearing an odd choking noise a few feet away, Duo looked up into furious face of Dermail. Smiling smugly the braided advisor approaching the Duke.
"Well it looks like best man won, eh Duke Dermail." Duo held out his hand knowing Dermail would have to lose gracefully. The man's mouth twisted into a nasty sneer.
"The game hasn't been one yet." He articulated coldly and stalked off. Duo, Quatre, and Heero followed confidently behind. When they reached the stable Sandrock, Wing, and another horse, this one a large pure black thoroughbred pawed the ground nervously. All three were fully saddled, ready to be ridden.
"So what is this next contest?" Quatre asked as he mounted his palomino, the tiny Arabian horse fidgeted slightly with the tension in the air and Quatre soothingly stroked her neck.
"We will go out into the woods and the archer who brings back the best catch is the winner."
Quatre winced slightly but nodded and turned his gaze to Heero and Duo. The shorthaired boy was already mounted and ready. Duo, however, was having trouble. The black was dancing about too much to mount.
"Easy, easy Deathscythe. Whoa." Duo ran one hand down the long black curved neck.
"Deathscythe?" Heero raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that the name of Shinigami's steed?"
"Yup!" Duo swung up onto the horse, which reared. "And Shinigami rides again!"
The black calmed after Duo coaxed it out of rearing. They all looked up as Dermail rode out on a brown and gray roan. The rather unattractive horse tossed its head irritably. Behind him another man was mounted on a liver chestnut, the cross bow at his side proved him to be an archer.
"This is Muller," Dermail introduced smiling smugly. The dark-haired man bowed to Quatre and Duo.
"Your Highness, Lord Duo."
"Muller," Quatre returned seriously.
At he sound of hoof beats, Quatre looked up. Trowa apparently had yet to find a saddle that fit his horse, so he still rode bareback, the strong thighs clenching the smooth rusty sides of his horse, Heavyarms. Quatre was surprised to see a longbow as well as a quiver of arrows strapped to Trowa's back. The handle of the bow was old and beautifully carved with intricate designs and a smooth groove for Trowa's hand.
"Let's get started, hmmm?"
No one replied to Dermail's statement, they merely followed the older man out into the woods. After wandering about for a few hours, Quatre found himself becoming distracted by Trowa. He kept noticing the most inane things. Like the way the sun spilling through the thick canopy holes lit up Trowa's face with flashes of gold on bronze. The way a light breeze would rustle the leaves and make the shock of chestnut over Trowa's left eye flutter softly. Or the way Trowa's lean muscled body was taut and draw like a bow string, aware of every sight and sound in the forest.
Suddenly, the soft rustle of leaves and underbrush drew their attention. They halted as Muller held up a hand. From a nearby bush a deer emerged. The soft, wet, black nose twitched as it scented the air, the soft brown rose petal shaped ears swiveled this way and that listening for danger. The shiny brown eyes were large on the narrow face. The tense yet graceful movements carried the fail creature into a clearing. Out of the corner of his eye, Trowa watched Muller raised his cocked crossbow.
"Put it down, it's a doe." Towa murmured softly.
"Shut up." Muller growled aiming at the soft-eyed animal.
"Put it down!" Trowa hissed.
"Be quiet!" Muller shot back.
"Now!" Trowa's loud command startled the animal so Muller shot the arrow. Quatre's eyes widened in horror as a sound like that of a wounded child crying plaintively escaped the beautiful creature's throat. The deer scampered away as fast as the wound would allow.
"Now look what you've done!" Trowa whispered deadly quiet.
"Me! It's your fault!" Muller shouted.
"Finish her." Trowa commanded, taking out a dagger and thrusting the implement at Muller. The rival archer stared at the knife in disbelief. With a sigh the slave dismounted and moved after the injured animal. Quatre, Duo, and Heero followed right after. As they followed the trampled brush another cry pierced the silence making Quatre freeze. He continued on and came upon Trowa. The tall boy was kneeling on the ground the deer's delicate head cradled gently in said boy's lap. Trowa looked up, his deep green eyes empty. He shook his head as they tried to approach, pointing at a nearby bush. Seeing nothing, there they waited. After a moment a small animal almost the exact replica of the dead one cradled in Trowa's lap emerged only this one was much smaller and dotted with white spots. The small fawn approached the still archer mewling. The tiny deer nosed its mother crying plaintively. A sound that ripped Quatre's already bleeding heart asunder.
Moving slowly Trowa reached around the animal's stomach. The petite animal bleated and flayed its spindly legs as Trowa lifted it up. Tearing a strip of fabric from his sash Trowa wrapped the strip around the terrified animals eyes. The tiny fawn's cries quieted and it stopped struggling. Standing he moved solemnly to where the other's were waiting.
"Where is the doe?" Dermail asked.
Trowa tossed his head in the direction he'd come from.
"Well, shall we continue the contest?"
"I refuse to hunt with those who are more primitive than that which they hunt." Trowa replied curtly. The tall boy mounted his steed cradling the small shivering bundle gently. Quatre, Duo, and Heero followed Trowa as he rode in stony silence back towards the palace, leaving Dermail gaping at their retreating backs.