Fifth chappie, yay!

Disclaimer: I, Sutoomu(Storm), do NOT own Gundam Wing in any way. None at all. This fanfiction was made purely for fun and does not get me money in any way. Besides, it's not as though I have any money to be sued for...

Hiryonin Ichimei

Slave Life

Storm

Trowa stifled a yawn as he said goodnight to Heero and entered his room. There were candles lit, illuminating it, and a smile graced his features as he saw a little form buried beneath his covers, a smile gracing the smooth face of Quatre. Trowa slipped out of his royal dress with relief and slid on his nightwear. It was fresh and soft, and he felt exhausted from the dinner. He quietly slipped into the bed beside Quatre and brushed the Aranian's bangs out of his sleeping face.

"Good night, little one," he whispered and closed his eyes, relaxing his stiff muscles and waiting for the weightless feeling of slumber.

oooooOoooooOoooooOoooooOoooooOooooo

"You didn't tell me I was a personal slave!"

Heero looked tiredly over at Duo as he entered his silver and blue room, who sat on the edge of the bed, arms crossed and brows furrowed in a scowl. "You never asked," he replied nonchalantly as he slipped off his heavy dress cloak.

"You could have told me!" Duo replied, more disapointed now than angry in his eyes. "I had to find out from Wufei! I don't like it!"

"Look, Duo," Heero said with a sigh. "Trieze insisted that I get a personal slave, so I did. Doesn't mean I bought you for personal slave reasons."

"Huh?" Duo frowned for a moment. "Why not? What's wrong with me? I'm not that ugly, am I?"

Heero stared in disbelief at Duo. One second he had been complaining about being a personal slave, and now he was pouting because he thought Heero didn't want him.

"No, you're not ugly, Duo," Heero replied, which got him a suspicious look. Heero stifled a groan. "Look, I liked your singing. I liked your spunk. I liked the life in your eyes. You weren't a robot! If I'm forced by my father to share a room with a personal slave, I'd rather it be a living, breathing, thinking being, rather than a dumb, witless slave."

"Oh," Duo breathed. He appeared to be shocked. "So you really liked my singing?" Heero nodded. "And I don't have to cut my hair or wear a slave uniform, do I?" Heero shook his head this time. "Cool!"

"I like your hair, Duo," Heero muttered while he changed.

"You better," Duo chuckled, but his eyes held uncertainty in what Heero just said. "Oh. And, uh, Heero?"

"Hn?"

"I don't think Quat knows what a personal slave is," he said slowly.

Heero blinked and looked into almost violet eyes. "Trowa is the most gentle, compassionate, caring person I know. Quatre will be fine."

"Oh," Duo blinked. "Good to hear that." Heero finished buttoning up his night wear and slipped into the bed, after blowing out the candles, pulling the warm covers up to his nose. After a moment, he felt Duo slip in beside him, keeping on the far side of the large bed.

"Don't try anything stupid, rich boy," he muttered venemously as he got comfortable.

"Baka," Heero muttered, then snuggled into the pillow in exhaustion and warmth. "Mmm. G'night, Duo."

"Yeah," Duo muttered back, his voice a bit softer. "Night, Heero." And Heero dozed off, leaving the braided Draeid slave to his thoughts.

oooooOoooooOoooooOoooooOoooooOooooo

Quatre woke up slowly, one of those wake ups that brings your mind to consciousness, but keeps your eyes closed in drowsiness. Therefore, all he was aware of was the soft mattress, the warm blankets, and the wonderful aroma barraging his senses.

"Mmm," he mumbled. "…smells nice."

"Thank you," replied a sleepy voice, and Quatre's eyes flew open to stare at Trowa. He jerked upright in shock and confusion, falling off the bed as he backed away. Trowa's eyes flew open, wide awake now, as he looked over the edge at a sprawled little Aranian, who gaped up at him.

"Are you alright, Quatre?" he asked in concern.

Quatre rolled over and sat up, still staring at Trowa. "You…you're in my bed," he whispered.

"Actually, you were in my bed," Trowa replied, then realized Quatre had no idea what a personal slave was.

"Your bed? But…what…"

"Little one," Trowa slid down off the bed to sit in front of him, cross-legged. "Do you know what kind of slave you are?"

"Slave?" Quatre choked, eyes widening into the same fear invoked gaze he had met him with. He swallowed. "Um…Wufei said I was a personal…slave."

"Do you know what a personal slave does?"

Quatre slowly shook his head and spoke softly. "Wufei said he was going to explain our duties to us later on."

"A personal slave is a slave who shares a room with his Master," Trowa explained.

Suspicious thoughts crept into Quatre's mind, memories of some of the things Koirine and Koidin had told him. "Just share a room?" He asked timidly, eyeing Trowa in fear.

Trowa's brows furrowed just a tad. "No. Technically, personal slaves do more…intimate things…" Quatre cut him off with a cry as he covered his face in shame and fear with his hands, tears blurring his closed eyes. "No, no, little one," Trowa tried to explain, pulling a hand away. "That's only technically. I have no intention of hurting you or using you or anything! I just wanted to protect you, Quatre!" He gathered the small Aranian into his arms, stroking his back as he tried to reassure Quatre he was safe. Finally, Quatre's sobs ceased and he hiccupped.

"I…I don't even know how to be a slave," Quatre whispered. "I don't even want to be a slave. I want to be at home!" New tears threatened to spill.

Trowa hugged Quatre, now moving to brush his hair with his rough circus hands. "Believe me, Quatre, please. If I could, I would take you home and set you free. But I can't, right now. So please believe me when I say I want to protect you. I want to protect Quatre, not hurt him."

Quatre sniffed. "I…I believe you, Trowa," he whispered. "You make me feel safe. I'm just so scared right now."

"I know, little one," Trowa hushed. "I know." He stroked Quatre's back for a few more moments, then held him out. "Would you like some breakfast?"

"Yes, please," Quatre said. "Thank you." Trowa helped him up to the table, which, to Quatre's delight, had been cleaned of his supper tray and replaced by a breakfast tray, filled with more rare treats and tea. They began to eat just as the door burst open, a bouncing Draeid running in.

"Hey, guys," he smiled, stopping right beside the table. he eyed Trowa suspiciously for a moment, then turned to Quatre, whose eyes were a tad red from crying still. "You all okay, Quat?"

Quatre swallowed his bread roll and smiled back. "Yes, Duo, I'm fine. Thank you for being concerned."

"Hey, slaves gotta take care of their own," he announced.

"Why are you here?" Trowa asked, and Duo pouted.

"Ah, Heero's bein' grouchy. Just because I woke him up when I tickled him with my braid and pushed him off the bed. He threatened to kill me and called me a baka about five times, then threw a boot at me. So, here I am!" He finished with a wave and grabbed a pastry from their tray. "Mmm. Great stuff."

"…," Trowa blinked.

"What's a baka?" Quatre asked.

"An idiot, I think," Duo took two more pastries, and Trowa nodded.

"That's not very nice," Quatre frowned.

"Heero isn't generally nice, really," Trowa tried to explain. "He was having a good day yesterday. And I advise against repeating this morning's events, Duo."

Duo simply grinned and chewed his pastry, then grabbed a few more and waved. "You know, these are good. Maybe I'll stay for a while. I was planning on splitting today, but then again... Anyways, gotta get back, now. Maybe Heero's calmed down…" And Duo Maxwell took his leave.

I like repetetiveness. Get's the chapters posted faster. Please review the fifth chapter! Constructive critisism is welcome, but no flames, please. Enjoy!

Storm