Arabian Palace
"Ladies and gentlemen, may I proudly introduce… The King's champion, Heero Yuy!"
Heero grinned and rotated his scimitar in the air. "Hn. I admit, I like the sound of that..."
"Hey!" His sparring opponent glared at him from the other side of the outdoor training ring. "Why does he get to be champion?" The dark-haired Chinese man turned toward the Crown Prince, who stood at the center of the ring, making whooping noises through his cuffed hands.
Prince Quatre lowered his hands with a sigh. "Relax, Wufei. It's only a game."
"We're getting too old for games," Chang Wufei complained, swinging his own blade in impatience. Good, Heero thought. Wufei was easily caught off-guard when he was agitated.
"You're getting married soon," Wufei added.
Quatre frowned, shuffling his feet in the sand. "Yes, I know…"
Heero hefted his sword, quickly growing tired of the wedding discussion. It had no place in an arena for battle.
Without warning, he launched forward and rushed Wufei, bringing his blade down with a swift whoosh of steel. Wufei cursed at the surprise attack, but brought his blade up to meet Heero's with equally deft precision. The two continued to easily parry one another's strikes. Both men handled the scimitar well, although it was hardly Heero's first choice in weapon.
The air around them became choked with sand as the two men fought, and Heero could feel his skin becoming slick inside his fighting leathers. The sun had barely risen, and yet the day was already sweltering. Heero pressed on despite his discomfort, pausing only when he caught a sidelong glimpse of the Crown Prince's glum expression.
Heero angled his head toward Quatre, bringing his blade up just in time to block Wufei's latest blow. "What's with you?" he asked the prince without preamble.
"I do not wish to marry the Peacecraft Princess," Quatre answered with a labored sigh.
Heero frowned as he stepped backward and dodged another strike from Wufei. "Why not?"
"I… I'm just not ready to be married," the prince replied sullenly.
"But you are of age," Wufei pointed out as he sidestepped Heero. "In my homeland, you would be well past your prime." Wufei stopped moving all together, his almond-shaped eyes narrowing. "I was thirteen when I wed…"
"We know." Both Heero and Quatre cut in, exchanging looks with one another before Quatre turned baleful eyes to Wufei. Heero stood and waited for the Chinese man to say more, but his mouth was set into a hard line, and no further words came.
Heero shifted his feet in the sand, knowing then the match had come to an end. He knew better than to engage Wufei when he was consumed by dark thoughts.
"That's enough for today," said Heero, lowering his scimitar and fastening it to his belt. Once it was secured, he reached a hand up to his sweat-drenched brow, sweeping his overgrown bangs to the side. They only clung to his soaked skin, and he craved a bath. "It's too damn hot already."
The abrupt change in subject appeared to work on Wufei, who looked up at Heero with a smirk. "Perhaps you should reconsider your choice of garments," he said, gesturing toward Heero's black tunic and leathers.
"It's good practice," Heero said with a shrug.
"You ought to try the local fashion; it's much more comfortable," said Quatre, tugging at his linen vest and loose-fitting pants, which were dyed a rich shade of indigo. Wufei wore a similar style, but all in white.
"You're no longer in Japan," Wufei pointed out as they headed out of the arena. "No need to continue to dress like you are."
Heero frowned. His choice of attire had as little to do with his origins as Wufei's.
"It's just what I prefer to fight in," Heero said gruffly.
"Which can be beneficial - for your enemies." Wufei's lips curved upward. "They can just stand back and let the elements defeat you, then pilfer your pockets after you've sweated to death."
Heero just shot him a glare as they walked.
"I think we could all use a drink," Quatre said with a nervous laugh.
By drink, the Crown Prince almost always meant tea. Today, it was a chilled mint variety, which the three men took inside one of the prince's tents to cool off from the day's heat.
"I don't know why you're so disappointed with this turn of events," Wufei said to Quatre. They had continued the marriage conversation - much to Heero's chagrin.
The men were lounging on plush pillows while a trio of servant girls took turns fanning them. They were quite pretty, each with long, ebony tresses woven into shiny braids, and they giggled conspiratorially to one another as they set about their task. Heero found the distraction annoying, but he noticed Wufei appraising their gauzy ensembles, which left little to the imagination.
"I've heard the Princess Relena is an unparallelled beauty," Wufei added, pausing to take a sip of tea.
"You've heard the bards praise her in song," Quatre retorted, lifting his own glass to his lips. "They have to say things like that. They liken me to some sort of god."
Heero gave a snort, while the girls continued giggling and whispering to one another. He knew his friend was considered good-looking, if the way women fawned over him was any indication. But, then, as Crown Prince he would have attracted attention regardless of his appearance. In Quatre's shadow, Heero managed to avoid such frivolities. Not that he would mind taking a woman to his bed; in this kingdom, one had to be discreet. Should a man end up doing wrong by some nobleman's daughter, such an offense could cost him his life.
Heero was happy to leave the marriage talk to his two friends, although he prayed to anyone that might listen they would find a topic more worthy of discussion.
"Your problem," Wufei said pointedly to Quatre, "is that you have never known a woman. You should see about that before you wed the Princess..."
Quatre squirmed in his seat. "I don't think that's necessary," he said with an awkward chuckle. "Besides, if the Princess is expected to remain a virgin for our wedding night, shouldn't I as well?"
"Sure, if you don't feel the need to impress her," Heero said caustically, earning him a few sly glances from the girls at their feet. He avoided their pointed looks with a roll of his eyes, while next to him, Quatre's face burned.
"I was a virgin on my wedding night," Wufei announced.
"Yeah?" Quatre turned toward him. "How was it?"
Wufei sipped his tea slowly before answering. "Uncomfortable," he said when he was finished. "I highly recommend getting it over with beforehand; trust me." He tipped his head toward the group of girls. "And I'm sure any one of these maidens would be happy to help you in that regard..."
Wufei grinned unabashedly at the three girls, who tittered in response. Heero suppressed the urge to gag at his friend's overeagerness. Quatre's face turned a shade redder.
"Well, then," the Prince said with a nervous laugh. "I, ah, suppose I could consider it…" He shot Heero a desperate look. Heero gave a shrug while thinking of a way to change the subject.
"When does the company leave for Sanc?" Heero asked, then cursed himself inwardly. It wasn't exactly a major pivot, but he'd tried. Quatre glanced warily at him, then Wufei.
"In a month, I believe. It will take some time to prepare the fleet for the journey."
Heero nodded. He knew it would be quite the endeavour, traveling all the way to Sanc, which was in the northwestern corner of the European continent. Heero knew from his past travels that it would take roughly a fortnight on horseback. And once the company arrived in the Sanc Kingdom, they would likely stay for another few weeks before embarking for the return trip home. All told, it would be months yet before Quatre's bride would arrive in Arabia.
Wufei's thoughts seemed to mirror Heero's as he shot Quatre a boisterous grin. "Plenty of time for you to practice," Wufei quipped, gesturing toward the servant girls.
Quatre sputtered out a laugh while Heero grunted and sipped from his drink.