Seventh chapter, tadah!

Disclaimer: I, Sutoomu(Storm), so 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

"I'm not a prince!" Quatre defended. "My father is only in the Leader's Trian."

"Ramid Winner is the leader of the Leader's Trian."

"Milliardo, stop it!" Quatre argued.

"It's Zechs," Zechs corrected. "And he did ask. Knowing you, kid, you'd shrink the truth. You're too modest sometimes. He's a multi-billionaire heir." Duo grinned and Quatre shoved Zechs.

"He sure knows how to rile you," he whistled. "Well, lookie here. The orphan boy gets stuck with a king, two princes, a happy slave, and a rich slave. What's a Draeid to do?"

"You're an orphan?" Heero asked. Duo blinked as he realized what he just said, then shrugged.

"Yeah. They kicked me out of Draeida 'cause I kept stealing and stuff like that. And 'cause they don't believe in executions, they send you to prolonged torture as a slave." Heero sighed and rolled his eyes again.

"I wouldn't call this prolonged torture, Duo," Heero waved at the table.

"Yeah, well, you ain't so bad. The others, though," Duo chuckled. "Nasty creeps deserved what I gave 'em."

"Don't tell me, please," Quatre said, and it appeared the braided slave wasn't about to.

Lunch finished in easy conversation, but truly ended with a dreaded remark from Trieze that they would have to 'discuss' Quatre's problem. Which meant he might end up with the Maguanacs fighting against guardsmen, and he didn't want that, since the guardsmen would be doomed. Trowa didn't mention it, and instead explained the secret of the 'stealth' sash and took him riding, which he hadn't done in so long. They rode for a few hours, arriving back just as the sun went down, a gorgeous sight. Quatre became increasingly nervous as night approached and Trowa led the way back to the room. But he didn't settle down for the night, not yet. Instead, he brought Quatre over to the wall and pulled aside a scarlet drapery, revealing a third door in the room. He pulled a golden key from a chain around his neck and unlocked it, swinging it open and walking in. Quatre followed, then his eyes widened as he took in the room.

It seemed to be filled with cushions. Cushions and pillows and blankets, like a regular foreign desert oasis. The floor, what little was bare, was an incredibly soft carpet. But, that was nothing compared to what he saw laying on the pillows.

"Quatre, I'd like to introduce you to Mist and Dew, my lions," Trowa said. Quatre stared at the huge feline beasts as one roared and stepped up to Trowa. He stepped back in alarm, but Trowa took his hand and gently pulled him forward as he rubbed the mane of his pet. "Don't worry. They're tame and gentle as a lamb." He placed Quatre's hand on the deep brown mane.

"You…have…lions," he whispered. The lion under his hand gave a small friendly growl and nuzzled him, almost knocking him over.

"You're petting Dew," Trowa said and left him to go to the other, a female. "And this is Mist. I've known them since I was four, and owned them since I was ten, seven years."

"You're seventeen, then," Quatre said. Normally, he would have thought he would be terrified silly at being in the presence of two full grown lions, deadly kings of the forest. But he wasn't. He felt quite calm and safe petting them, just as he did when he was with Trowa. He got a feeling of security, and he looked at Trowa, once again firming his wavering belief that the green eyed prince wouldn't hurt him. "I'm..sixteen."

"If you'd like, I can spend the night in here," Trowa said, his head leaning upon Mist's smooth golden back. Quatre started at this offer.

"I…but…," he stammered, then frowned. "That's not right. It's your room. I'm a…a slave, I can't kick my…master out of his own bed. Besides," he let a small wavery smile onto his lips. "I trust you, Trowa. I…I really do."

Their eyes met and Trowa looked on with heartfelt joy. "Thank you, little one."

Review, constructively critisize, don't flame...hey, I changed it. Yay.

Storm