Chap 6: Undistinguished Journal
"That purest, most tragic concumbence, strangers clasped into one, a moment, of their moment on earth."
I went back up to my room and took a quick shower, humming as I always do in showers and then found myself new clothes that weren't covered in dew and stains from my trek into the woods. I'd have to ask someone if there was a laundry mat in town or something. I was going through clothes like they were candy. Hardly the way I usually did things. I guess this place is just…meant to do that to tourists.
Oddly, a thought came to me then. I was there to get to know my heritage, and yet I hadn't even gone visiting the town yet. "Tomorrow is another day."
I found the dinning room without problem this time and sat down next to a smiling Quatre.
"How was your morning? I heard that Treize gave you the tour?" These people heard everything it seemed. I nodded and looked around quickly at the guests who were present. The elderly couple wasn't there along with the newlyweds. Must be sleeping in…or something. I shuddered at the thought and turned back to my inspection.
Relena was there, prim and proper in a white and pink pantsuit. How odd, never knew they made pink suits. Her blonde hair was done up in her usual do, and tied back with a pale pink ribbon. The girl needed to get out more…maybe find more colors in the spectrum. A few seats away were Mr. and Mrs. Gray, both looking average and dower as usual. Oddly enough, Daniel wasn't present and this seemed a bit out of place.
Yet the one thing that confused me more was the extra guest at our table. Did this place just produce new people out of thin air or was it just a normal occurrence? I'd have to ask Quatre later. The man sat at the head of the table, sitting straighter then a telephone pole, so you can imagine how uncomfortable it would be to be near the guy. Anyone wired that tight just didn't sit well with me. No pun intended. Not to mention that he must have been at least 6 feet tall if he had been standing, judging from my position. Hey, when god doesn't give short guys like me extra height we get envious of those who do. Don't judge if you don't know first hand…that's my motto.
He had shockingly pale blonde hair, which was pulled back lightly with a navy blue ribbon that brought out eyes of a glacier blue that would have made the titanic run in fright. At the moment they were trained on nothing in particular but I just knew I wouldn't want them on me any time soon. All in all, he was handsome, as handsome as some tall, broad blue eyed strangers could get. But something about him screamed, 'romancer'. He just seemed like a poetry and roses kind of guy…almost exactly like Treize . Hmm, something to think on later.
I turned to Quatre, my question already showing in my eyes it seemed for he smiled. "That's Zechs. He assists Treize with the guests. He makes certain Treize's job is easier in the long run."
"Oh…so, what, he runs the staffing and booking department?"
"Something like that." Quatre smiled quickly, long fingers playing with the stem of his glass of water. The room was a perfect temperature but with the ice water and Quatre's natural body heat, condensation had formed naturally and slipped down the clear glass to settle on the pads of his fingers. Call me anything you want but this always intrigued me. The natural order of things. Heat melted ice…water froze…cool air could cool any fervor. Like the saying goes…it's the simple things that matter most.
"Lunch is served." I looked up and noticed a tall lean man, quiet and unobtrusive. One thing you'd notice right away about him though was his hair. The man must have used an awful amount of gel in the morning to make it defy gravity like it did. It was a rich brown and fell over one of his sharp forest green eyes. At the moment one of those eyes was trained on only one person and that was Quatre beside me.
I turned to Quatre again to ask him if he knew the man but found Quatre to busy mooning to answer anything. Dishes were placed in front of us with simple two set courses. The first was a hot cheese and broccoli soup, steam billowing above it like a cloud. The other a plate of simple cold but bursting ham sandwiches with all the trimmings on marbled bread and what appeared to be homemade potato salad on the side. All in all, I felt as if this place was reading my mind. The food looked great.
"Kudos to the chef. This looks awesome. You were right Quatre, man can cook." I'm loud but I love food. I dug in not caring if Ms. Relena had a problem with my table manners or not.
"Enjoy." I looked up briefly to nod and smile then dove back into the soup. It was creamy and spiced just right.
"Duo…?"
"Yeah?" I quickly wiped my mouth on the cloth napkin at my side and grinned up at Quatre.
"That was the chef." He was smiling…more like laughing at me behind his spoon, which he appeared to be brandishing at me like a weapon of some sort.
"Really…well then he got my message. So that was the chef huh?" Quatre nodded, looking back down to his food, a soft smile gracing his face. "Know him well do you?" I said softly, leisurely eating the rest of my soup, eager to get to the sandwich.
"Why do you say that?" Quatre delicately picked up his water glass, sipping it before setting it aside, all while completely ignoring my leerful stare.
"Don't play coy…" I couldn't help but chuckle, fingers catching the dripping juices from the sandwich. "Wow, yummy. Wonder what sauce he uses?" I said between bites, taste buds humming in appreciation. God when I booked this place I thought I would have to starve on horrible rat infested food. See, I'm a KFC eater with the occasional Pannera here and there when I get the money. But hell this wasn't what I was expecting.
Pannera by the way…I must say it's probably the best soup, salad, sandwich, and bread joint ever invented. Anyway, I'm off of the subject at hand.
"What's his name?"
"Trowa Barton."
"Interesting…" I backed off, looking about at the other patrons. I could tease Quatre all day but the key was to lay it on lightly while in public but heavily in the corridors on the way out of the dinning room. That was my plan of action.
For the first time I noticed something I hadn't before. The dinning room, in its entire splendor, never caught my eye before. But now, in the glow of the afternoon sun, I was as breathless as Duo Maxwell can get. I knew it was huge but now it was colossal. Why would anyone ever need a dinning room so huge? Gold and ornate designs stole the eye away to play rampant in the jagged ceiling and daunting walls. If it wasn't so expertly achieved it would have been the eyesore of the century. The architects sure knew what they were doing.
Once the meal was finished and the plates were cleared away, Relena stood with a huff, turning towards Quatre with an air of disdain and a painful smile. "I wish to speak with you Mr. Winner. The study, I believe, is open. If you please…" and with that she turned and waltzed away.
I glanced over towards Quatre, wondering what it could be that she wanted to talk with him about. But the look Quatre was giving the now unoccupied doorway was enough to keep me quiet. Whatever it was she wanted to speak with him about, he already knew. "Excuse me Duo. I'll speak with you later then?" I nodded and he left, blonde hair covering most of his eyes from view.
I also quickly left the dinning hall, not sure if I should have wandered towards the study to have a good ol' accidental eve's drop or head off to another location. I thought it over briefly and decided to get most of the major sites of the castle in today and then head to town tomorrow. So with that in mind I decided against spying and headed towards the library. I was immensely curious as to what it looked like and if it had any good material for night time exploration. With no TV, you had to occupy your nights before bed with something.
The map quickly brought me to the back of the castle and the largest collection of books I've ever seen in the city. Shelves upon shelves were stocked with old and new volumes; leather of all different hues brought the pleasant smell of ages long since buried to the fore. Some were pleasant, like the smell of a newly bound book, spine yet uncracked with use and some seemed as if they were caked in dust and grime, too potent to be pleasing.
"Looks like the library from the beauty and the beast." And I wasn't lying either. Two sets of curving stairs led up to a second tier where latter's were set up to reach even higher. The ceiling was painted with scenes most likely from these very books themselves. A few of them I recognized, such as the Trojan horse and what appeared to be something more recent then I would have ever expected to be in a castle this old. Would you like to guess or should I tell you? Fine…it was peter pan circling the North Star. It seemed all too surreal. Whoever owned this place at the time must have just kept going…like completing a story.
Each panel showed signs of different owners…like a collage of painters united by one common goal…a story through the ages on a canvas seen by all. I quickly ran towards the middle of the room. All in all…I felt warm standing there, gazing at centuries of authors and painters work. Talent was swarming my senses and I felt privileged to be standing in a room others before me, that had created so magnificent a library, had.
The library in a nut shell was simple yet elegant. The tiles were a stunning white marble with swirls of gold on both sides. On either side a set of stairs inlaid in the tile lead to a supposed reading area, while the walls, not covered by shelves and books, were stone. Cherry wood paneling skirted each shelf and around a magnificent fireplace, where two panthers were sprawled above in green and blue stone, which could have easily held a rather large group of twenty or more people in it. And above that fireplace was the painting Treize had spoken of.
In it was the same blue eyed boy I had grown fond of in my brief stay. I had sympathy for him and what he must have gone through…I knew that if I could speak with him that I would feel a connection akin to that of long lost friends. Sitting before him in two grand chairs were most likely his mother and father. The father was stern, eyes easily readable letting the painter know that his time was precious and that he had better speed it along. The mother on the other hand was soft. This must seem odd but that's the only way to describe her. She wasn't a voluptuous beauty but she was soft…and kind. I could tell through the painting that she cared for everything around her with equal zeal. Maybe that was why she held parties with her husband's mistresses. Maybe she didn't know hate…until her son was murdered most likely.
One thing I did notice was that the two styles of the painting in the hall near the blue wing and this one were plainly obvious. The family portrait was without passion…a picture taken with a camera that only happened to be a paint brush. It held only a starving artists ardor, which was defined as basic detachment. The painting was cold and harsh. Basic lines to capture the basic of emotions, while the one of only Heero, was dripping with passion. Each stroke lovingly caressing the plains of his hard face, unruly hair and inhuman eyes.
Yes, the paintings were indeed done by two different people. That I knew for sure and a voice, almost like my own, whispered that it was done with a loving hand that could only belong to Varelet. His lover.
"What would Relena do if I were to bring this subject up at dinner? What mayhem could that cause?" I murmured to myself walking to the right staircase, ready to explore the selection available. One thing I noticed right away were that sections had been labeled, such as the normal fiction and biography sections but there were a few that were marked off as names of people. This must have been what Treize had spoken of before about moving all the books from the blue wing into its own personal section in the library. I quickly skipped past unknown names until I reached what I had hoped to find. Heero Yuy.
There was a latter leading upwards to even more books in this section. Holes in between sections were littered through out each shelf. Someone had decided to take a few out, it seemed. Shrugging I glanced over a few titles at eye level. Titles such as, 'Strategy in defense, and Lilies of the Wild,' that last so happened to be a book of poems. I figured as I leafed through it casually before putting it down on the floor for me to pick up before I left.
Smirking, I grabbed hold of the latter and climbed, scanning titles for anything promising. As I reached the end of the latter with my head almost touching the ceiling, my pants were stuffed with books, protruding out from my belt that was holding them in place. These last titles were the oddest yet. There were more poem books, these appearing to be more…how shell we say…sexy in a rhyming way.
So Heero Yuy had a hidden passion in poetry did he? I mused as I pulled the latter along the wall for another quick skim of the top shelf. It seemed the furthest I went the fewer books seemed to be missing. So whoever had visited Heero Yuy's section didn't go any higher then five yards off of the balcony. Just as I was leaving Heero's section something caught my eye. Or lack thereof I should say. The book was plain. No title, leather beaten and stained, shoved back between two large books entitled, 'Theories of Science Yet Undiscovered, volumes one and two.' I pulled it out carefully, afraid of the price of breaking an antique. Did Treize even know something this fragile looking was here?
Of course he did, he was the governor of the manor for Christ's sake. I bet he even dreams about the quality of fresh towels in the guest's bathrooms. Sighing I carefully picked my way down the latter, hoping none of my stole away books would fall. As soon as I was about a foot off the ground an almost shrill sound erupted from the entrance causing me to almost fall off in a most discomforting way. I didn't need a broken neck or spinal injury while on this trip.
Once I was safely on the ground and seeking out the cause of my almost demise, I found Relena pounding up the stairs in an unladylike fashion that had me stunned, with cheeks red and eyes narrowed. "What do you think you are doing?" Her voice was soft, almost a whisper but still harsh with her uneven breathing.
"I'm picking up some reading material. You know, there are no TV's or radios here so I have to amuse myself somehow. Which I must say is very difficult. I love TV immensely so it's really rather hard to go with out for so long." I answered absently as I plucked the books out of my waistband. I talked incessantly when I didn't want to have to listen to what another person had to say. In that case I really didn't want to have to go another round with Relena Peacecraft.
"Just 'picking' up some reading material? These are Sir Heero Yuy's private collection and are not meant to be 'picked' and placed in such an undignified and dishonorable way." She ended her little tirade by picking up the book of poems I had set aside earlier. "And they are to be shown with respect and not handled with obvious discare." Her voice had risen only an octave higher, brandishing the book of poems at me like a sword.
Ok, so what gave her the right to treat me like a child? I don't think I ever said anyone could treat me less then mud.
"Well, I'm sorry if I upset you but there was no way for me to carry the books down without me falling."
"Of course there is. You take one at a time. Not that you should be taking these books." Her voice softened and her eyes were guarded as she skimmed through the titles in my arms. "Why are you so fascinated with him?"
I could ask the same thing about you, I thought. "Well, for one, I'm just curious. Two, I'm bored and I thought it would be interesting to learn up on the local lore."
Relena mouthed something, eyes looking over the shelves around me. She seemed lost in her own little Relena world. Unable to comprehend the present situation. In that moment I realized something crucial…she was still just a child. So sad and lonely…
"Is there something wrong Ms. Relena?"
Her head snapped up, eyes wide in horror at being caught in such a vulnerable position. "Ah, no why would you think that?"
"Because you just looked so forlorn. I didn't mean to presume, but…um are you sure there's nothing wrong?" I don't know why I was being nice to her. She was the one who seemed it was her personal mission to make my life hell…or anyone's life hell if it came to the estates. "And not to be rude or anything but…you don't even know me and you somehow deduced that I'm some evil person."
"Ms. Relena?" She froze, like a child caught in the act of drawing fun doodles on the walls with crayon. Beyond her and standing in the center of the room stood Quatre, still prim as ever. Looking more and more the grownup then I ever considered him to be. His eyes were harsh while everything else about him was the same old Quatre as before. Knowing smiles, fancy suits, bouncy blonde hair and a stature of a man not to be trifled with. That was the man who I had come to associate with the boy I had been introduced to. "Ms. Relena is there a problem we need to take to Mr. Kushrenada?"
"Mr. Winner…of course not. I was merely letting our other guest know how 'valuable' these items are and that they are not to be taken out of the library to be ruined." Her voice was tight, head now held high as she smiled doubtfully. Something about the way her rigid body trembled just slightly told me that there was more behind Quatre's and Relena's relationship.
"Ms. Relena, this is a library…" Quatre spoke delicately as if speaking to a child as he mounted the stairs at a steadier pace. "These books can be taken out as you so well know as long as they are signed in and out. If Duo here cannot take these books out then neither can anyone else…" He had reached the landing, smile still fallaciously in place.
Relena made a noise along the lines of an exhale and swiftly turned around back to me. "Fine, but if you ruin these books you'll only have yourself to blame. Quatre can't save you then." She turned about ready to head away.
"Um, Relena. The book?" She stopped and glared silently at me before shoving the poem book into Quatre's hand, heels signaling her angry departure down the stairs and out the twin doors. "What's wrong with her? Stray dog chew up her designer shoes?"
The moment broke; I quickly made sure all my books were held safely within the circle of my arm before accepting the one from Quatre. It bothered me little to know that she hadn't answered my question. I didn't blame Quatre for intervening but still…it made me downright twitchy to know that someone hated me for something I didn't do or didn't not do. If that makes sense.
"Do you want me to help you?" Quatre still looked angry, but his voice was still as sweet as ever. I hope I can keep in contact with him after this vacation.
"Oh, no, I'm good. But what I really want to know is what caused her highness to fall of her high horse." Quatre walked with me, face solemn and questionable.
"Duo, can you keep a secret? I mean, I know we haven't known each other very long but I do wish for us to get along." I hurriedly nodded, not wanting to loose one of two friends that I had made. "Well, you remember Relena wanting to talk to me after lunch right?"
"Yep. And just to let you know in return since were sharing…I sort of almost gave into my baser needs and spied on your conversation but I quickly decided against it. Sorry…" I bolted the rest of my sentence out quickly, not one for holding onto secrets that weren't life threatening.
"It's okay Duo. I kind of figured with your inquisitive nature that you'd be curious about this anyway. Well, to start, I knew something was wrong with her. If you didn't notice all throughout lunch she appeared… edgy, almost stressed about something. Usually I don't pry but I could feel her worry like waves off her mind. We went to the study and she started the conversation with the usual greetings. Things I don't think you'd want to hear anyway, but I digress."
"Nah, not really. You rich people have the oddest ways and I usually just nod my head and smile anyway." We had made it out of the library and were heading to the violet wing, the halls echoing around us as we talked. I couldn't help but remember my former mission and quickly filed it for a discussion in my private rooms and not in the hallway. Plus something was bothering Quatre…something I figured didn't happen much.
"She was having a problem…"
"Like that's something new in her life I'll bet."
"No, it was along the lines of…well Lowe manor actually. You have heard about Mr. Callaway Jr. am I right?" I nodded, holding fast the many slipping books. Maybe I should have asked for assistance I mused as Quatre continued. "Well, apparently she tried contacting him again, this morning. He agreed to come by, it seemed, and will be arriving at the manor shortly."
He paused, eyes taking in the decor with little to no enjoyment. This Quatre wasn't one I was used to. He seemed hard…unresisting…maybe even a little afraid. "What's wrong then? That doesn't seem to bad, right?" So a guy was coming to the manor to see Relena? To bad for him but I still didn't get it.
"I had wished that it ended there but it doesn't. Mr. Callaway Jr. is now the owner as I've told you and on numerous accounts have sworn Relena off but it seems there is a new problem to reconsider."
The entire mood of the conversation was too somber and secretive for my liking. Like we were about to head into battle with only tooth brushes and pillows for weapons and armor. Something just didn't seem right. I mean come on…who would want to head into battle with a tooth brush and a pillow…I thought so. "And…?"
"Well, let's just say she had caught wind of a business deal and didn't like it. Apparently Mr. Callaway was planning to sell half of the estate off to someone he wouldn't say. But being Relena she spent most of this morning pulling every string in her arsenal and found what she had been looking for."
"And…?" I was about to pull Quatre's strings if he didn't stop with the dramatic pauses.
"She found out my little dealings with my partner." Quatre was smiling again…not the sweet boy next door smile; no it was more along the line of scary, has a double life, boy next door smile.
"Uh, right? I'll pretend to understand what your saying Quatre buddy."
"Duo, remember when I said that Mr. Callaway wouldn't give Relena the Manor because of the way she treated him?"
"Yeah…" Okay things were coming together…boringly slow…but coming together.
"Well, Mr. Callaway decided to make more of a profit by selling half of the estate to myself and my partner."
Ding…little light in head came on. "So…you and this partner bought half of the estate right out from under Relena's nose? Wow, now there's balls." He nodded, walking quickly ahead to open my door for me, seeing as my hands were full. I put my books down on the nearest table and bounded over onto the bed. "Okay…so you and your partner now own half of this place…what half?"
He chuckled sitting down gently next to me. "It doesn't work that way. Me and my partner own half of the manor in a more business way. Mr. Callaway still holds the property and land and has say over a few details while myself and my partner deal with the rest."
"What's left?" Seemed like they didn't get the good end of the deal.
"There's a lot left. But let's not get into that. It's boring. So Duo, find anything of interest in the library?"
"Yeah actually but I have something else to ask you Winner." I leaned back, elbows digging into the fresh bedding. Hilde must have cleaned while I was away this morning. "So…what was with that whole goo goo over Mr. Trowa Barton, chef extraordinaire? Huh…something going on?"
Never before had I seen a near grown man blush so brightly. Quatre turned away, one hand digging deep into his pants pocket and the other resting lightly on the back of his neck. "Trowa was…is special."
"Alright then…do tell. We have time for a little story don't we?" It wasn't like I was on a tight schedule or anything.
"It's not really exciting. The first time I came here he and I became instant friends. We uh, well he always brought me things…" Quatre wistfully looked back to the window, walking slowly towards it. "They were special in their simplicity. The first was just a flower he had picked from the grounds and placed on my breakfast platter. I woke up to the smell of syrup and waffles with strawberries pilled on top. One day I commented on dinner, chicken I believe…no a Cornish hen. I always get them confused. Well, like you, I had to comment the chef on his amazing food…Trowa was standing there smiling at me… I only felt the right fool when I got back to my room and the recipe was sitting by my door. Then, when I was in the library, one of the maids came to me with a note. I waited until they were gone before reading it."
I turned about on the bed, laying on my stomach while I listened to his dry retelling. Sounded like courtship to me…awfully romantic. "Yeah…so?"
"It was an invitation. I was to go to the conservatory when the sun set. There between the roses was a table set for two. Trowa was standing nearby with a single white rose between his fingers. He gave it to me, not saying a word, just that gentle smile. Like he already knew everything my mind had to say. We talked like the very best of friends reunited after so many long years that night. I learned of his childhood and he mine. I guess he made the atmosphere that evening more relaxed…like he was just testing the waters if you will. Wondering if I was interested."
"What ya do?" Damn, if I was a cat, my ears would be perked with excitement. I'd never been romanced like that in all my short years. It was probably really nice.
"I kissed the rose. Ever since then, I don't stop getting them. Not that I would complain." Quatre smiled again, leaning on the windows sill. "What about you Duo? Anyone special?"
"Sorry to burst your bubble, but no. I had a…well, if you want to call it a relationship, about a year ago. Lets just say I learned some very shocking things our last night together."
"What do you mean?"
I couldn't help but sigh deeply, turning over to lie on my back. "He wanted to be a female and was actually in the process of getting it done as we spoke that night." I could still remember how hurt I felt. I was his boyfriend and yet he couldn't tell me he was taking hormone pills and seeing a doctor to change willy to willyeta. Heck I was even willing to take him; she male and all but he told me he wanted a new and fresh relationship with a man that would never know his secret. Like you could hide something like that forever. But what really hurt me was when he said that every time we had had sex he was never satisfied.
I felt utterly sick after that. He was going to find a man…most like straight and fool him into thinking he was a she. I would feel betrayed…heck I did when he told me his reasons. I also couldn't help but feel stupid and used. All that time he was toping me and he had been wishing he could be a female getting topped. Like I was his guinea pig. I was only there as a test trial.
"Interesting." I looked over and laughed suddenly at the look of concentration on Quatre's face. His eyes were looking up towards the ceiling, and his mouth was quirked, as if he was trying to decipher in his mind how something like that would be like.
"Look Quatre. You're a very nice looking man…so don't go trying to get a sex change on me."
"Never! Why would I do that?" He pushed off the window and headed to the doors. "Well, Duo I'll see you later then. Don't get into trouble."
"Humph…life's boring if you live in a sheltered bubble all your life little Quatre." The door clicked shut on Quatre's amused sniff.
I got up, scratching through my hair as I picked up the pile of books to deposit on the bed for me to sift through. The odd thing was I instinctively picked up the journal and put it aside, knowing I would read it before I left the room. The many poetry books I grabbed were artful. Imagery written down in word and sometimes so confusing I couldn't understand why the hell I was reading it. They were old. Written in a language long since disused and abandoned.
One, which I ear marked delicately, was filled to the brim with sonnets describing the acts between two lovers whose genders remained anonymous, a man in search for a suitable wife, a rambunctious boy ready to fill his life with lewd acts from anything on two legs and some of even stranger caliber. Such as the one where the man got excited over a lady at his party whose ribbons were unlaced. Talk about odd things to get excited about. But there was one that I couldn't get enough of.
The page looked dirtier then any of the other ones as if pawed over and over again, soils from the hands inking the page. It wasn't very long and less like any poem I've ready before. It was more of a story really.
Violet Moon
Written by: D. A. Ashlon
I watch the stars at night
I watch the moon fill the sky
I see the world through another's eyes
Yet unperceived through mine own.
Why do I fight thine?
Why do I fight thine?
Eyes of most brilliant shine,
I need thee more then crown,
I need thee more then life,
I need thee more then reputation.
Then I will awaken to another's beauty,
Most forbidden to me.
Your strong body like mine own,
Your lust like mine own.
You are not like the others,
You are more then the stars
More then the moon,
Shinning so brightly in your eyes.
I need thee, want thee,
And it will destroy me in the end.
Your violet moons.
I know exactly what my old high school English teacher would say about his poem. Absolutely rubbish. Poetry is not something created on a whim. It needs to be balanced. Syllables must be exact and the rhyming scheme intact. But, if someone wanted to make poetry then it should be what ever it is they feel is in their heart.
Sighing I closed the book, lovingly petting its leather cover. Quickly I put it aside and grabbed the journal, the prize of my possessions. It was eating at me, I'll confess. I wanted to know what was in it, but a thought still lingered on the surface of those greedy confessions. If this was indeed a journal, I had no right reading it. That's how I felt anyway but then logic caught up with me and I remembered whoever wrote it be it Heero or some worker in the castle who wanted to hide his sad and pathetic life in between greatness, was long since dead.
The binding creaked as I slowly opened it. It had been a long time since anyone had touched this book. But it was still pristine, almost new inside except for the yellowing edges of the pages. The first page was in fact an entry, in a neat cursive scrawl. The date was old barely legible as the ink had ran in some places.
July 24
You're wondering why you're writing in this awful book aren't you. Why didn't you chuck it out of the window for the horses to tromp on below? What did she think she would accomplish by giving this…thing…to me? That I would become closer with her? That I would stop hating her for letting father treat her like one of his many whores. She's his wife…she's my mother and yet she does nothing. She has tea and tiny parties for those…miscreants god may call women. Thinking that she can just melt the problem away with a smile. Even our people think it's ludicrous.
Yes kings may have concubines…mistresses, even slaves…I would never suggest that they shouldn't… I'm not that thick to suggest otherwise to men long thinking their due is in sex. No, but having a harem is not the way we should be seen as a kingdom to others. That we have no value for women here unless they can produce children and are beautiful enough to be seen with kings.
The entry between was smeared in too many places to be clearly legible so I skipped over it sadly to the next angry paragraph.
He believes that I think the same way he does. That I will also take into the power and become one with everything I despise. However does he not see me? His eyes are cold and hard, my mothers soft and dead. We are a family no longer…and I for one will always reject…that woman, my father calls wife. I have better things to think about. Better problems to solve.
Heero Yuy
My eyes left the writing, brain having stopped imputing what was written before it. This was Heero Yuy's journal…his life. How…strange. You'd think something like this would have been kept in a vault or put in a glass case to be displayed somewhere in the castle. Why was it stuffed away in a library?
"So what, it's not like no one shouldn't read it." I flipped the page over; the next entry was even smaller.
July 29
I have no need to write down my feelings in this prison of a book. They are mine alone that shouldn't be pried into by strangers. I know my mother has sneaked into my room to find it…to read the things I would never tell her. Maybe that was her scheme all along. Well, no more. Never let an enemy into your mind. Weakness isn't expectable.
Heero Yuy
That was it. I flipped another couple pages until I stumbled upon something else. There were no bitter words of a young man, but drawings of simple things. A light sketch of a tree, leaves falling off slowly in the whipping wind and the water of the distant lake rippling where fishes surfaced and lily pads floated. The scene was alive amazingly so, whoever drew it…be it Heero or someone else who had possession of the book was exceedingly talented. The next was of a barn…where this barn was I don't know. I had yet to see or hear of a barn. Another was a scene of a busy kitchen. Staff of all sizes and facial expressions darted about to finish their work. Dishes, pots and stoves were steaming, and a young boy was darting about the grownups to catch what appeared to be a duck. Another woman in an apron brandishing a rolling pin was also chasing the boy, face showing blatant fury.
The picture was light, as if the illustrator never sought to go too deep into detail. It breathed reality. This was a scene…a piece of history drawn down for all…for me to see. My heart actually skipped a beat. The thought that this had happened so long ago and that the people in the picture were real people long since buried, was an addicting sensation.
Suddenly the air of the pictures changed. They became harder, emotion rolling off the surface of the painfully deep pencil lines. I ran my fingers lightly down the page, noting the many bumps and grooves. The scene was like a spread. It started on the left page and ended on the right. At first I didn't understand what the mayhem created but then I saw and I realized how hurtful it was.
There were people…so many people crowded in one room, dim candle light bounced off faces which seemed terrified of something…terrified of me it seemed. They looked at the drawer or to the man sitting to the right and just ahead of him. All these people had chains about their ankles and wrists, linked together in one mass blob. Their clothing were simple rags, the pencil coloring each cloth until it was barely distinguishable except black.
I didn't know what to make of the picture. Obviously the illustrator wasn't pleased by the situation they were in. Sighing I rubbed my eyes, groaning as I noted the dark smudges decorating my fingertips…great. The next picture was once again light but it had an entirely knew feeling to it...a deer grazing by a stream. It made me smile. I don't know why it just did. The drawer was peaceful again, not angry…I could tell. The next few pages were blank and I thought that that was it but before I closed the book I quickly flipped through the pages and about ¾ of the way towards the back were more drawings. These are what stunned me the most.
One was a quick picture drawn of a boy…or man, standing next to another older gentleman. They were in a grand room of sorts and it seemed as if the older man was talking to someone else hidden behind the two. His hands were gesturing wildly about him while the other was just standing still, arms not in the picture most likely holding something. Their clothes were simple, peasant from the look of things but nothing ratty. The next drawing was a picture of the same people. The old man was indeed old. His face was wrinkled, hair white and wispy. The two appeared to be unpacking two small horses. The old man was searching through a small pack while the other was unloading what appeared to be an easel…
Then it clicked…what if these were the painters? What if this was a picture of master and apprentice…Varelet…painters that did the portraits of the Yuy family and Heero? Too many what ifs…and once again, you could see nothing but a back, side profile of the other younger male. But what you could see was a slim tapered body with a pair of black pants a size too big and a rather large black shirt that was most likely a hand me down from his master. Yet the one thing I did find rather odd and almost coincidental was the fact that the boy…man child had a long braid…like my own. Now tell me how freaky that is?
I quickly flipped the next page, a need surging within me to find a picture that showed me Varelet's face…if that was Varelet. Oddly enough the next picture was drawn of Varelet…what I thought to be Varelet, standing alone by a tree…in what appeared to be the garden I had visited just recently. One hand held the side of the tree, almost all of his profile drawn to perfection but I still couldn't discern what he looked like…but the picture was flawless none the less. Wisps of hair and part of his long shirt blew in the wind, shading down to create dusk. The picture called to me like all the others but there was an added…weight to it. I don't know what. Just as I was about to flip to the next page there was a knock on my door.
Instinctively I stashed the journal underneath one of the many pillows on the bed, picked up the poem book entitled Lilies in the Wind and bellowed for whoever it was to enter. Hilde peaked her head through the crack in the door, smile fixed brilliantly on her face.
"Do you patent that smile or is it just something you buy off eBay every week to keep it fresh?" I put the poem book down ready to get whatever it was she needed down so he could get back to the journal.
"Duo…please. I just wanted to come see if you were still here? Watcha doing?" she bounded in the room landing on the vast bed. I watched the many books bounce along with her, lifting into the air just momentarily.
"Nothing much…just a little light reading…why?"
Hilde glanced through the pile, loosing interest around the third book. "Oh, nothing." She trailed off, eyes wandering over the décor aimlessly.
Rolling my eyes, leaned back on the bed and submitted to the knowledge that my quirky little maid was either bored or trying to skirt her duties. "Hey Hilde…tell me more about Varelet." As if a button had been thrown, her eyes lit up and she crawled further up on the bed. I refused to point out that she was practically in a room with a stranger…on his bed…with barely a care in the world. It's not like I would attack her but she should have at least some boundaries.
"Alright…if you must know. I am the only one of the maids with the most knowledge on the subject…so it was a wise choice. Let's see, Varelet arrived at the Yuy manor with his master. Señore John Deŕorock. They say he was not exactly a hard man but a cold one…distant if you will. His work was everything and there was nothing outside it. He treated Varelet just like any apprentice would be treated only on a grander scale. Deŕorock expected more from Varelet then most did of their apprentices. Not that Varelet ever refused. He went in stride with his demands silently, not once whining or refusing any order. Deŕorock was a man supposedly that picked on originality and stamina. His apprentices…the few that he had in his long life time, were all expected to be great…as great if not better then him and he would try his damned hardest to be apart that greatness, even as his old body dwindled rapidly under times good graces." Ones again, Hilde's story telling had me enthralled. So far, everything was panning out. There was an old man in the drawings and a silent shadow…Varelet. It had to be.
"His life was…alright. Now don't go asking twenty questions about his past before he came to Lowe Manor because little if anything is known about him except that he was an orphan and Deŕorock took him in when he was a child of 10. When he came to Lowe Manor the staff, of course, was intrigued. It's been stated…passed down if you will, that he was kind…loving…rambunctious like all young men. He went down to the servants quarters often, trading stories and relaxing with them over a cup or two of old wine that the manors table never finished drinking after supper.
One of the older ladies that works here…her great great great…so forth, grandfather knew Varelet personally and passed down stories of their times together. Apparently they were…friends…acquaintances, I'm not sure which. That's the only reason she's allowed to stay on staff…only because she's apart of the history here. But let me tell you she's almost damned useless when it comes to cleaning. Anyway, she also has a godson that works here too. You might have met him. Names Trowa Barton. He's head chef." She waited minutely as I nodded my head. "Well, Barton was his father's name…his maiden name, the name of the man that knew Varelet, was della Vici. Anyway he was loved by basically everyone working at Lowe Manor."
"Alright." I nodded ready for her to continue. There had to be more…something else to fit the puzzle that buzzed along my brain. Though the thought of Trowa's ancestors knowing Varelet and the Lowe's was extremely fascinating. I wondered if I'd ever get the time to talk to him.
"So, what I really have the juicy stuff on…this coming from basically all my sources, is that when Varelet arrived he had been confused. It had been circulating that there had been an accident and that the boy didn't even remember his name. Quite interesting isn't it?"
"He had amnesia?" That would suck. Not knowing who you were, was definitely a black and white world I would never want to be apart of.
"Mhmmm." She mumbled, eyes darting towards the door suddenly. In the distance I could hear an audible click of shoes on stone. "Yep, and, now this is important…" she opened her mouth to finish but instead of her voice it was another's coming down the hall.
"Hilde! Where are you? You are supposed to be cleaning the stairs in the northeast section! They are practically molding away as we speak!" The voice was young…shrill in a deep way. I know that sounds odd, but it was.
"Whoops got to run. Shirked the duties bestowed upon me by the benevolent Dorothy. See ya later Duo." With that she jumped off the bed and skipped out of the room. I distantly heard her laughter and the other girl screaming at her to stop running. Smiling I began to pull the journal out again when another knock resounded.
"What is it now…?" I groaned even as Quatre walked in, eyes wide.
"What is it?" he asked surprised.
"I asked you first." I spoke petulantly getting off the bed and heading for the restroom. I probably still had a dark smudge about my eye. Wonder what Hilde thought of that? I left the door open, silently inviting Quatre to come in. I turned the tap on; glad that we weren't in the 1800's when there was no indoor plumbing. Gotta love indoor plumbing.
"Actually I was wondering if you wanted to come with me and the guys. You know, get away from the castle have a little fun out on the town tomorrow after supper?" I looked into the mirror, Quatre smiling shiftily behind me.
"Who are the guys?" I turned the tap off, wiping my fingers off on nearby towel.
"That's for me to know and you to find out…if you say yes…" He looked pleadingly at me, as if my answer would decide if he lived or died.
"Fine, I'll go. Probably some initiation into your rich boys of the month club right. I'll be the mascot?" I said jokingly, laughing heartily at the end to make sure Quatre knew I didn't mean it.
"No. You'll see. Now come with me now." He grabbed my arm pulling me from the bathroom and then the room all together. I silently bid the journal farewell; I guess life didn't want me to finish looking through it at the moment.
Winner pulled me through the halls, hand still painfully tight about my arm. What did he think I was going to make a run for it? Finally we came to be outside, Quatre talking happily over his shoulder to me about a fun little place most of the staff didn't even know about on Lowe grounds. We quickly walked down the gravel road and right as we left the sanctuary of the gates…unlocked surprisingly enough…a place I had entered not to long ago; he veered left down a path I hadn't seen before while waiting for the gates to open.
"Now you can't tell anyone I deliberately brought you here. Treize doesn't mind if guests find it on their own but he doesn't want people that do know where it is to show the way. He doesn't want it part of the tourist attraction. There's already too much to handle as is." Well, that didn't make much sense but ok.
We gradually made our way down the path, Quatre brushing aside stray branches and me just running my hand along the stone wall. Finally, from the direction the castle was facing through the tree tops, I could tell we had made it to the left side of the castle where to my astonishment the woods had ended off into a field…most likely a farmers seasonal crops. Sitting next to the wall was the barn. Its wood warped in some places and the stone foundation covered in green moss. Inside I could hear the distinct winy of a horse.
"Come. I'm sure he has to be there about now." See who? Quatre tugged my arm and we sprinted through the field until we ran into the barn. The individual smells of hay, manure and cedar overwhelmed me.
"So wait…why is the barn on the outside of the castle?"
"Oh, that's easy; this barn was actually not part of the Lowe property but in fact belonged to the Le Blanc family. They were the local farmers who sold their crops to the Lowe's on a discount so they could keep their land. Lowe wanted to have their property in order to extend the manor, but thought it better in the long run to keep them around. Their house was just over there but it was burned downed quite a while ago. No one knows how. But this barn still stands. Sturdy like most buildings from that time period if left alone." Quatre walked into the building calling out to someone, the name lost in the sudden raucous. I glanced over to where Quatre had pointed a place where the old farm house used to be. All there was now were a few stone blocks where the small foundation once stood.
Shaking my head I stuffed my hands deep into my pockets and followed Quatre inside. It took me only a second to find my new friend, for he was at that moment picking on the exotic Asian who I had met on my first day at Lowe Manor, Wufei Chang, caretaker and hotty extraordinaire. The man was pitching hay from the loft down to the floor below where he would most likely put into the horses bins.
"What do you want Winner. I really haven't the time."
"Oh please Wufei…it's not like anyone ever comes down here and no one is scheduled to come to the Manor today. Unless you count the afternoon romps in the hay with a special someone's…" Wufei sputtered angrily, tossing hay down upon us. Instead of joining the laughing Quatre I took my leisure in examining the stables. All the horses…a grand total of four, were a variety of sizes and colors, all too busy grazing in their grain buckets to pay any attention to humans. Up above the bins was what my mind supplied as a loft, which was occupied by Wufei, grumbling as he tried to pitch hay directly at the smiling Quatre who had made a joke, most likely at his expense. I really wasn't paying much attention…I'll tell ya.
I found the ladder and began my assent, tuning out Wufei's cry that I wasn't 'allowed up there.' Once I reached the top I walked around the bales of hay, heading to the opening at the opposite end which my mind supplied as the door in which farmers pitched the hay out of the barn. Hell, my farm vocabulary and knowledge were far from vast. Heck I didn't even know what the hell it was called…not that I cared. I pushed the door open; well it seemed more like a rather large window, and saw natural beauty. The world beyond was the same as before…only higher up. I guess a new perspective could do that to senses so akin to ground level viewpoints.
"Nice huh?"
I glanced behind me at Quatre who was sporting the lovely look of hay all over his head. Strands sticking absurdly between each blond hair. "Did you have a fight with scarecrow Quatre?"
He shrugged, and sat down on the open ledge. "I like this barn. It's peaceful, quiet compared to the castle…" he whispered, eyes not leaving the horizon.
"What do you mean? There's basically no noise…if any…at the castle. Except for Hilde and Relena." Quatre smiled sadly.
"It's not what one hears…it's what one, one knows has happened."
Now, let me describe the look on my face at that exact moment. Gaping goldfish with eyebrows in totally two different directions then they should be capable of. Did you understand what he said…cause I sure as hell didn't.
"What?"
"Listen Duo…it's not just what you hear with your ears, it's what you hear in that castle's walls…in its many rooms…you can feel it through your bones. History is a painfully loud experience, but this barn has always been…quiet, sweetly innocent. Understand."
"Maybe." I shrugged, so the barn was innocent. Could be worse I suppose. Nothing's ever really ever innocent though. I felt like telling him he was wrong. This place was far from innocent. I could feel something…not hatred, anger or fear, but there was something…pleasure.
"Duo?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you listening to me?" I looked over to Quatre, his eyes narrowed and speculative.
"Sure."
"I asked you where you got the necklace…it's very beautiful." His voice was wistful, full of curiosity.
Stunned I looked down to see that it had somehow managed to wiggle free of my shirt and into my hand. Chuckling I tucked it back away, pulling up my collar as high as it would stretch. "It's nothing…family heirloom." The one thing I would never sell for cash.
"Winner, would you please leave. I need to get my work done and your both distracting." Wufei called across the way, sweat running down his bare arms and onto the pitchfork. The day wasn't excruciatingly hot, but it was sticky and the wind had died until not even the leaves on their branches swayed.
"Please. Like us talking is distracting you're oh so ingenious work." Quatre called back, smirking back at me.
"Ya never know Quatre. He may have to count every toss of hay or something." I counter acted, glad to get off the subject of my necklace. Seeing the Asian man fume sort of made me…I don't know…happy. Stupid yeah I know but I haven't felt this type of family feeling…well, more of a friend feeling in such a long time. I don't have many friends…did I tell you that already…oh well, I don't. They just never appealed to me. I believe if having no friends at age 17…well almost 18, next week I think is my birthday, well any who, then you won't be subjected to their ideals. Yeah if you have acquaintances then you're safe. You're not attached. You're free to go do what want without obligations to another party…free to make as many touchdowns with as many people in one as you can without letting into your mind…into your heart.
I guess I've grown icy over the years. But I just never found someone who thought like me…or made me want to think like them. Maybe Quatre is a stepping stone in the right direction.
"Maxwell was it?" Wufei had stopped, the corner of one eye twitching sporadically.
"Yes. Want to profess your love to me properly Wuffee…you know we just met and all but I'm flattered."
Wufei scowled heavily in return and turned his back to us, his face as bright red as a cherry. After that, me and Quatre whispered, which I thought only pissed off Wufei even more but he couldn't say we were disturbing him anymore could he? Well, we just talked about meaningless things. Things I've never really gave much thought to. So when he asked me my favorite desert I had to stop and think for a minute…or five. I have a lot of favorites…I've never in my life just had one favorite that I couldn't stop wanting for five seconds unless…"Well I guess if it has anything to do with chocolate then I'm game." I told him, he laughed…chuckled like a gentlemen really and then told me his favorite. Just plan old…chocolate.
We had a good laugh both at our choices and at Wufei grumblings from one of the horse's bins below. So this is what I've figured out about myself. One, I like any desert that has to do with chocolate, two, my favorite all time food is anything not burnt…p.s. not squash, beets, spinach, eggplant, lasagna, or spaghetti…I do have my hatred limits. Anyway, thirdly, my favorite color…colors actually are purple, black and blue. To my chagrin…bruise colors according to Quatre, but it seems more fitting really. Fourthly, my favorite show after about half an hour of discussion ended to something I saw at least five times from the T.V. across the way from my apartment. Dead like Me, something on HBO.
A girl, tired of life is killed…get this, by a toilet seat from a space station in outer space, and is taken under a couple of grim reapers wings. She is then taught how to take the souls from people's bodies before they die a violent death. Cliché enough, she doesn't want this and refuses to take her first assignment, to take the soul of a little girl. Hey, it's a real show, and it was amazingly riveting. Hell it's HBO.
Anyhoot, fifthly, my favorite movie was a stalemate between Lord of the Rings films and…don't laugh…Ever After. I said don't laugh. Quatre did enough of that for the both of us. I know it's a sissy girl movie meant to make the chicks ball their eyes out and hope for romantic interludes with their own prince charmings instead of what the universe has to offer now, but it was sweet. It was the way love should be treated. It touched me, what can I say.
Well, lets breeze through Quatre's favorites then. You know his favorite desert, his favorite food is anything made by Trowa…gag, and he thinks I'm a girly girl. His favorite color is white…says it goes with anything, his favorite show is, get this, Animal Planet…thinks it's instructional and his favorite movie is Interview with a Vampire. Let's see, I've never seen the movie personally but from the description he gave me I really do want to and blast the mansion for not having a TV for the first time since I got there. I won't go into the details lets just say that Louis, human turned vampire by Lestat, the vampire, is troubled because he can't let go of his humanity to take what is necessary to keep him alive…blood. Finally Lestat, in order to keep his love under his care, makes a little girl Claudia, who was Louis mistaken dinner, into a vampire for him to take care of. There's too much more to go into but the movie just sounds like a Duo Maxwell film.
Oh, here's the funny thing, we weren't able to get Wufei to answer all the questions but we did manage to weasel out his favorite color and desert. Green, and…get this…cinnamon raisin rice pudding…I know he's Asian but please. I've tried regular rice pudding before I can't imagine how awful cinnamon raisin rice pudding could taste.
"Hey Duo?" We were heading back to the castle, dinner about to be served and we weren't dressed or smelling pleasant enough to join the ranks at the dinner table.
"Yeah?"
"Do you think we can have another chat sometime? I enjoyed that." He actually did, that's what surprised me. No one's ever enjoyed my company…but then I've never enjoyed somebody else's company either.
"Sure Quatre. Anytime." We split ways at the castle both of us running for our rooms.
I only had enough time to wash quickly with a cold rag and fling on any article of clothing that looked clean enough. That's it, I thought, I need to find the laundry mat, this is the last of my clean clothes.
Dinner was a grand affair. Candle light, small appetizers of miniature proportions, what I believed to be some French didy where they put tomato slices on a piece of fancy cracker. Either way, I could have done without but thought it polite to try it and found that…it wasn't that bad. It wasn't filling and served as just the beginning to the pallet. Honey roasted duck on a bed of steamed wild rice, which I needed soy sauce for, I hate eating plain rice, and buttered zucchini was the main meal. Got to say, Trowa can cook. Wonder why he's not some famous chef…why would a guy who can cook like this work at a bed and breakfast for a lack of a better word. But, wonderfully enough, desert was a dark forest chocolate cake. Hell, if the man wasn't already taken then I would have to steal him away if he could cook things this chocolaty all the time.
Now I can see why Quatre's favorite food was anything Trowa made.
"So Duo, doing anything special tomorrow?" Quatre and Daniel had been their usual chatterbox selves during dinner. I was kind of curious about what Daniel did all day but thought best not to pry and just enjoyed our evening. I wasn't his mother…and we just met, nagging him just didn't seem like a good thing for our budding relationship as pals.
"Most likely going to town to find a laundry mat and then doing some scavenging. I did come here to find out about my history."
"You know if you ask Hilde she'll do your laundry for you. It's what they do here Duo."
"Oh, how do I let her know?"
"That's easy. In the drawer near your bed are door signs. Take out the one that says pick up laundry and put it out for them to see then set the clothes you want cleaned on the stool near the door. It's quite a simple and effective system." I nodded, taking the instructions in. Hey if I don't have to spend much money…if any, then all the better. I really don't have anymore money to my name except what I brought with me. And let me tell you something…if I had to spend what money I did bring on laundry I would only have about forty dollars left when I got home. Yep, that's how sad I am. I spent a fortune on this trip to understand why I wasn't wanted as a child. I wasn't going to pass up the chance of not finding out why.
"Thanks Quatre. That helps." Quatre and Daniel left for their own rooms, their own lives, Quatre giving me a look I didn't quite understand before he told me to meet me tomorrow evening before supper in the conservatory. Daniel flashed one of his winning smiles, waving that he'd see me later. Something about his quietness and his lack of wanting to see us during the day was…odd.
In my room I took a quick wash over the sink, wetting a terry cloth and scrubbing until I thought I smelled satisfactory. I was too tired to get my hair all wet…and way too tired to try and detangle it after that. My mind was on automatic as I shut the lights out. As little as I did that day, I felt drained. Never in my life have I ever felt the need to sleep as much as I did here. Back home, if that's what you want to call it, I don't know how many times I actually wanted to sleep, let alone tried. I felt alone and bored with the idea of letting my body take a rest when I knew it had no right to.
But as soon as I fell down on the covers, head pillowed on the pillow, I knew I felt oddly at home…at rest within my own mind. Maybe Quatre was right that this castle was loud in its history but it felt comforting to know it had a history to talk about. A meaningful one at that. With that thought in mind I drifted off to sleep, a soft breeze from the balcony breathed over my bare chest…a balcony I don't ever remember opening that night…
A/n: Now I'm spoiling all of you cause I wanted to space out the chapters. I've been working on this story for years so part of it was complete but part of it's not. The next three chapters are done but I think I'm going to wait a while and tweak them for you guys. Enjoy.