Warnings: Angst, violence, language, adventure, lemons, AU, fantasy, angst again.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who is sticking with this! I appreciate your patience with me for not updating this as frequently as some of my other work.

A/N #2: To Anonymous: I wish you would sign in! I have the feeling that you are one of the Anons who reviews a few of my stories, and I'd love to respond to your lovely reviews! But, as you read this, just know that I appreciate you – and your defense against the (I wholeheartedly agree) idiotic flamer. I hope you continue to enjoy my other work, and this one – I'm glad that it's your favorite!

Lost Dreams

Chapter Twelve

Trowa headed south.

The winter snows had set in and the trail from South Pass to the Western Wood seemed to be just one treacherous snow drift after another, the entire landscape a blanket of unrelieved white.

He had very few clear memories of his childhood in Ios before Gregory had taken him hostage along with most of the nobility in Hellas. But he remembered the salty air, strong wind, and bright, sunny days. As he continued to ride south he found himself thinking more and more about those memories, trying to tease out any warmth in them.

Trowa barely remembered his parents – just the sensations of being held by them, the deep rumble of his father's voice, and the feel of his mother's silken hair against his face. He knew that his sister Cathy, six years older than him, had more memories of their parents than he did, but he had never wanted to indulge himself by asking her to share them.

She had married Sylvia's older brother, Ernest, nearly eight years ago now, and at the time had been trying to persuade Trowa and Sylvia to marry as well. It had seemed like a natural fit – Ios and Kos were more closely tied than any of the other kingdoms of Hellas, and when Trowa had been a child, when Ios had still existed, their parents had planned such a match for them. But Trowa had no desire to share Sylvia's kingdom, and certainly no desire to tie himself to her if it would mean never seeing Heero again.

Ironically, it looked like fate had decided to go that route in any case.

He couldn't say that he was surprised at Solo's reaction to seeing him holding Duo, or at his anger with Trowa and Heero for allowing Duo to endanger himself, but he was… heartbroken seemed too light a description.

For as long as he could remember, Heero had been his friend, later his lover, but always a part of his life, always a constant force that he had been drawn to. It was near impossible for Trowa to imagine his existence without him. But now he would have to live without Heero, and without Duo.

Trowa could only conclude that they had been greedy. He and Heero had been transfixed by the bright glimmer of Duo and had reached for something too good for them to have. So now the three of them had been sentenced to life without the other.

At least Heero was there, would be there to protect Duo and to see him. It was strange to think that Trowa had only known the prince for a short time but already felt as though he were connected to him – not as strongly perhaps, but certainly with the potential to be – as he was to Heero.

He never should have allowed himself to become involved. Trowa's past had been destroyed and his future had always been bleak. It had been selfish to want either of them.

Trowa met few travelers on the road until he was deep in the Western Wood, closer to Mysia than to Thera, and he only stopped to share a fire with the smaller groups.

One night he happened across two families, travelling together and headed north to Kos, and they invited him to share their meal and the fire of the camp.

They had the look of people living hard lives, their faces gaunt in the firelight and their limbs dirty and thin. He felt guilty even accepting the hunk of bread a small child passed to him, but he didn't want to insult their pride, and he was hungry.

"Where you headed?" One of the older men asked Trowa as he sat and ate.

"Dunno yet," Trowa said truthfully. He had a half-formed plan in his mind, but it was crazy enough that he still doubted his ability to carry it out. "You lot?"

"North, to Kos if there's work," the first man said.

"We were burned out of our homes," the woman beside him muttered. "Two weeks ago."

"The Mysians."

The man nodded.

"Ever since Duo Maxwell disappeared they've been pushing into the free worker villages that supported his rebels." The man sighed. "We thought he would be there to protect us, but…"

Trowa frowned.

"Then you haven't heard?"

"Heard what?"

"Did they kill him?" One of the children, a young boy, asked breathlessly.

"No. He's the long lost prince of Thera. Just this past week he helped save hundreds of free workers under siege at the South Pass."

The man and woman exchanged looks.

"A prince? We had the prince under our roof! Poor lamb." She turned suddenly bright eyes to Trowa. "He's a fine boy, generous and strong."

Trowa nodded in agreement.

"I know."

"So you've met him?" Another child asked.

Trowa nodded again.

"Is he tall like you? He's a giant, isn't he?"

To the child Trowa thought Duo would be a giant, and while he didn't want to crush his young aspirations, he thought that the truth might be more inspiring.

"No, he's short – not too much taller than you. You don't have to be a giant to fight the Mysians," Trowa told the child.

"Huh." The child sat back down, a pensive expression on his face.

"So he's just abandoned us then?" The man asked. "Gone back to Thera?"

Trowa frowned.

He could see how these people, so close to Mysia, might feel that way, and he could also understand that if Duo got wind of what was happening with them then he would no doubt come racing down here to fight the Mysians by himself.

Trowa sighed.

"No. In fact he's told both the King and Prince Solo that he wants to fight for your freedom. He's not abandoned you. He never will."

"We'll see," the man muttered. "We've been made promises before that were broken."

After that, Trowa avoided stopping unless he had to. It was one thing to allow himself to drown in thoughts of Heero and Duo, quite another to have to actually defend the prince from the people he had devoted himself to saving.

By the time he reached the Mysian border Trowa's mind was made. His plan, however crazy, was the one thing that he, and he alone could do to turn the oncoming war in Duo's favor.

Abydos was almost the exact opposite of Antioch. Instead of the city being divided by a river it was surrounded by it, an ancient tributary of it having been divided and directed to surround the city.

Trowa had traveled to Mysia many times with the Sentinels, but they had only ever camped outside the city gates of Abydos in deference to the enmity between Mysia and Thera.

Now, though, Trowa rode through the gates and contemplated just how far his life had diverged from what it had been meant to be. Just like that river, he thought bitterly, his life forced to follow the path that the Mysians had laid out for him instead of its own natural course.

He decided that riding up to the palace gates, while bold, was also the quickest way to set his new plan in motion. Trowa had shed his Sentinel cloak outside the city, and now he approached dressed much as any free worker or craftsman in Mysia would be.

The soldiers stopped him at the gates to the palace courtyard and Trowa mentally prepared himself for what was to come.

"The King of Ios wishes to see General Treize Khushrenada," Trowa informed the soldiers, not giving them a chance to address him first.

They exchanged confused looks.

"The King of… Ios?" The leader of the men spoke up. "There's no King of Ios anymore."

"There's no kingdom," Trowa corrected him with a growl. "I assure you there is still a king."

They conferenced among themselves for a few minutes, but eventually decided to call in a superior.

Luck must have been on his side, because the captain who came to investigate the situation decided that Trowa wouldn't be too great a threat to anyone and ordered him to surrender his weapons and horse before entering the palace.

Trowa was struck by just how different the climate in Mysia was than Thera. Even now, in early winter, it was still warm, and the gardens that the captain led Trowa to were in full bloom, roses of all colors decorating the stone walls and paths.

"Wait here," the captain directed. "Lady Une will be in to see you shortly."

Trowa had learned years ago that the best lies were based in truth. They were more believable, and as weapons they were a lot deadlier than something merely fabricated.

Of course, the trick with any sharp blade was that it cut both ways, and as Trowa mentally prepared his rationale for joining the Mysians, he was forced to confront the fact that the truths he had to draw on were dark and deep. It wouldn't be at all difficult to convince the Mysians that he had well and truly abandoned the Therans – not when it felt as though he genuinely had.

Une kept him waiting long enough that Trowa suspected her of having forgotten about him rather than trying to make a point about his insignificance, but after four hours of sitting alone the doors to the garden opened and she walked in.

Trowa had seen her before, at the Hellas games, and despite the fact that she wore her hair down instead of in its customary braids, she stood out easily – after all, she was one of the few women in this court or any who went around dressed in men's clothing.

"Trowa Barton," Une drawled as she walked closer to him.

He remained seated, and when she came to a stop in front of him they had a brief staring contest before Une laughed and bowed her head to him.

"Welcome, King of Ios," she intoned before sitting down on the bench opposite his.

"Your hospitality is… most impressive," Trowa drawled.

"I suppose you would find it lacking after years as the lapdog of both Sylvia and Gregory," Une murmured.

"So then you don't treat every visiting dignitary this poorly?" He pressed.

She laughed again, the sound harsh and brittle.

"Is that what this is? A visit from a dignitary? I didn't think the Therans were so subtle about sex. Shouldn't you just call yourself a whore, so that we're all clear?"

"Being the lover of a prince hardly makes me a whore," Trowa said lightly, stuffing away all of his emotions. Une was cruel and intelligent, and he couldn't afford any reaction to her words.

"It does, however, make you an enemy of my country."

"It did," Trowa agreed.

Une arched one eyebrow slowly.

"Pray tell, whatever happened? Because if you could spend the last ten years with the son of the man who destroyed your entire kingdom then this had to be a truly earth shattering event. Or do you still deny that Gregory played a role in the devastation of Ios?"

"I have never denied it," Trowa argued. "His narrow minded vanity cost me any future and led to the deaths of thousands. But I had to live somewhere, and being with Solo was… a solace."

"One that has presumably ended?"

Trowa knew that the Mysians had to have spies at the Theran court, which made this next part even trickier. Une had to know that he no longer shared Solo's bed, and hadn't for three years, but he could hope that enough of the argument between Solo, Heero, and he would get out for Une's spies to report back to her of their falling out.

"Years ago, as I'm sure you knew. I recently found other… comforts."

"Oh?" Une managed to look both interested and bored.

"The Crown Prince has returned to claim his throne – surely you've heard of him? He went by the name of Duo Maxwell for years."

Une's jaw clenched in anger.

"In any case, Solo grew jealous of my affair with him and banished me from Thera." Trowa wasn't even sure that it was a lie – Solo's anger and his drastic reaction to Duo's wound at South Pass seemed out of character, and he struggled to understand just why Solo had thought the best course of action was to exile him.

"So you've been sleeping with both princes? Yet that doesn't make you a whore…" Une tapped one finger against her lips. "How the mighty have fallen. I suppose you've come running to Mysia then in the hopes of becoming one of Zechs' concubines?"

"Hardly," Trowa growled. "I'm done living at the whims of a prince, any prince."

"Then why are you here?"

"Revenge."

Une frowned.

"Indeed?"

Trowa nodded slowly.

"Gregory has taken everything from me. My home, my family, my people. Both of his sons – even my place with the Sentinels," he added, knowing it was pushing his luck. But he was confident that as soon as she heard that he had joined the Mysians Sylvia would renounce him.

"So you come to Mysia."

"Enemy of my enemy," Trowa murmured.

"Oh, I do hate that phrase," Une shook her head. "Yet we are also your enemy, are we not? Gregory set the stage for the fall of Ios, but it was Mysia who conquered it."

"A fact of which I am well aware. And recently you've been pushing into the territory of both Kos and Thera. While I will never love Mysia for what you have done to my country, I can certainly appreciate a superior power."

"What do you want – this revenge of yours?" Une asked.

"I want Gregory to be very, very sorry he ever came up with his idiotic scheme to make Thera superior to all other nations and I want Antioch."

"The city?" Une echoed in disbelief.

"Yes. Relena won't be able to control such a vast empire without vassal kings. I'm willing to become one, if I'm given Antioch."

Une's mouth worked as she opened and closed it several times before finally laughing – a full, deep laugh that contrasted sharply with her earlier laugh.

"And why should Treize bother with you when he can simply put one of Relena's cousins in power instead?"

"Because I'm brilliant, and inbred lackeys would do nothing but run that city into the ground."

"So what will you give us in return for Antioch? You won't share Zechs' bed – and I don't trust you enough to allow you near Treize's, so –"

"As I said before, I'm done with that. As to what I can give you… I was the trusted advisor to both Sylvia and Gregory, your two greatest enemies. Not only do I know exactly how they think, their strengths and weaknesses and plans for attacking your kingdom, but, as I said before, I'm brilliant. How many idiotic sycophants does Treize have giving him worthless advice because they want his favor? I'd be willing to bet you are one of the only intelligent advisors in this palace. I don't give a damn about Treize's favor – or Zechs' – I just want to win, and I can help you do that."

Une held his gaze for a long moment, and Trowa could see her weighing his words, judging their potential value against his potential risk.

Abruptly, Une stood and walked from the garden, leaving Trowa once again alone.

This time Trowa's wait was significantly shorter. Barely half an hour had passed when the doors opened yet again, this time to admit both Une and Treize.

Trowa had to fight down his immediate surge of hatred for the man who had commanded the army that destroyed his kingdom, but he was able to do it and keep his face perfectly blank.

Treize inclined his head a fraction in Trowa's direction before sitting down on the bench Une had earlier occupied and she took up position standing just behind him.

The general stared at Trowa, his sharp gaze searching his face for signs of weakness.

"I could torture any useful information out of you," Treize mused eventually.

"Perhaps," Trowa agreed, "but after hearing that a seventeen year old boy managed to get the best of your Inquisitor I think my chances are fair."

Treize smiled unpleasantly.

"Yes, but I said that I could torture it out of you. I wouldn't dare waste such an important task on one of my idiotic sycophants, now would I?"

Trowa sat still, deciding that no response to that would be the safest route.

"A pity you don't have an interest in sharing Zechs' bed," Treize said with a small, irritated sigh. "He's always wanted to fuck a king… I suppose when we take Antioch we'll just have to kill Gregory, crown his bastard son, and allow Zechs to bed him before we execute him. Will he be worth the trouble?"

Treize's eyes reminded Trowa of a serpent, they were so narrow and beady, and his words were certainly filled with venom and aimed to wound.

Trowa shrugged one shoulder lazily.

"He's young and nubile and eager," he allowed, "and if Zechs has no one better to do…"

Treize smirked.

"And you want Antioch."

"I certainly deserve it," Trowa growled, allowing a little irritation into his voice.

"Deserve?" Treize mocked. "What do you think I deserve then, King of Nothing?"

"I say that a man deserves anything he can take. I'm sure you could conquer Thera and Kos without me, but I know you can conquer them with my help, and certainly in less time and with fewer losses on your part."

"You assume I care about losses," Treize muttered. "So many mouths to feed… it's actually convenient for a few soldiers to be killed off in the course of battle.

Trowa certainly hadn't needed the reminder that Treize was a vile man with no concern for human life, but he had it now all the same. Treize was, he reflected, perhaps the exact opposite of Duo. The prince would never consent to losing the lives of Therans simply to avoid having to feed them.

"I assume you care about efficiency," Trowa corrected.

Treize smirked again.

"Indeed I do." He sighed. "My lady Une thinks we should cut off your head and sent it gift wrapped to Solo and Duo."

Trowa could only imagine how well that would go over. Duo would, in all likelihood, blame Solo for his death and charge out of Antioch, Heero at his side, intent on personally killing Treize.

"No matter how much you flirt with me I won't sleep with you," Trowa replied and Treize laughed.

He stood and turned to Une.

"We'll keep him for now. See to it that he's given quarters and clean clothes. He'll dine with the Prince and the Queen tonight." Treize turned back to Trowa. "You have such pride and strength, it would be a true pleasure to bring you to your knees and show you just how weak and pathetic you truly are. Don't give me even the shadow of an excuse to do so."

With that he marched from the room.

"I take it you don't like me very much," Trowa said to Une once they were alone.

"I don't like how much you interest Treize," Une corrected and gestured for him to follow.

"I'm not sure I like how much I interest him either," Trowa murmured, just loud enough for Une to hear and give him a predatory smirk.

Trowa decided that he would rely on Une for his survival – he doubted that she had directed Treize to kill him, and it was clear that she was level-headed and above all wanted to ensure victory for Treize. If Trowa could stay on her good side, then he would be able to position himself to the best advantage.

Trowa wasn't sure who, exactly, had decided to give him the clothing of a military officer in the Mysian army, but he dutifully pulled on the crimson jacket and white breeches that he had long despised.

The quarters Une had given him were spacious, resembling the rooms he kept at the palace in Antioch, and as he stared at himself in the tall mirror of the water closet he struggled to maintain his façade.

He had spent years growing up with Zechs and with Relena, before the fall of Ios and Duo's kidnapping, but he had never thought to see them again. Not here, in their palace.

Ios and Kos were unique in Hellas, their cultures closely entwined and different from the rest of the kingdoms. Being an island, Ios had developed independently from the mainland, but Kos had been one of its first allies and the two kingdoms shared much of their values.

Sharing food, for both, was symbolic as well as nutritional. To share food with someone meant that you trusted them, and to accept food from someone meant that you honored them. The two concepts were foreign to most Therans and Mysians alike, but Trowa was willing to bet that Treize, at the very least, would know exactly how painful and hypocritical it was going to be for Trowa to share a meal with the family responsible for the deaths of an entire people.

Trowa drew in a deep breath, glared at his reflection until his face was expressionless, and then left his room. A guard escorted him to the dining hall, and Trowa was willing to bet that the guard would escort him everywhere he tried to go.

The dining room was small, clearly a private one for the royals and not one for larger events, and Une, Treize, Relena, and Zechs were already gathered when Trowa made his appearance.

"Good evening," Relena intoned solemnly, "we are delighted that you would choose to join us."

He had always wondered about her – how much she bought into her brother and his lover's schemes to conquer all of Hellas – but he couldn't fault her manners or her cool politeness. Whatever Relena thought about his presence she would clearly keep to herself.

Trowa inclined his head to her and then took the open seat at the opposite end of the table from her.

"Yes," Treize repeated and passed Trowa a plate of bread, "ever so delighted."

Trowa stared at the loaf for a long moment. He could see where the others had pulled off small pieces – a Mysian tradition, to start a meal with a small piece of shared bread – and it took all of his will to force himself to do the same.

He met Treize's gaze as he put the piece into his mouth and swallowed.

Treize smirked at him.

"Tell us, what are the Therans planning to do about their increasing incompetence at protecting their settlements?" Zechs spoke up.

Trowa turned away from Treize and looked at the prince. Zechs was nearly as dangerous as Treize, he knew, and certainly was no mental lightweight. Trowa had just thrown himself into a snake pit, with no perceivable escape.

He could do this. He would do this. For Heero, for Duo, and for himself.