Sacrificed During a Violet Moon
Description: Duo's POV, except for beginning part. Duo, ever since he was a little baby, never knew his family. He was left to an orphanage in the city without anything but the clothes he wore and the necklace around his neck, something that speaks of his mysterious and painful past. Yet, when after almost 18 years of his life he has to return back home, he never expected it to be a repetition of things he never remembered in the first place of when he was just a baby, chosen as the sacrifice of the violet moon and a past come back to haunt him.
Pairing's: 1+2/1x2 (if you haven't noticed I abhor 2x1 and you will never see me with anything relating to it, sorry to all those fans who do, my best friend for example), 3+4/possibly 3x4 (I most likely won't, since I believe that their relationship works best if subtle hints are dropped from the sky), 13+6+5/possibly 13x6x5 in future, 13x5 mention in past but 6x5 in past (this has become my most favorite paring next to 1x2). As I am on Fanfiction all MA material will be on my website in livejournal.
Rating: AU, Yaoi, in the beginning it is rated pg13, rated R later, servitude, seducing of the obscured devil and a sacrifice for power. So if you don't agree with these terms then I don't know why the hell you're here. Ok have fun.
Chap 7: Small Town Visit
"She who lies halved beside me—she and I once watched the bees, dreamers not yet dipped into the acids of the craving for anything, not yet burned down into flies, sucking the blossom-dust from the pear-tree in spring,"
It was dark when I opened my eyes. Someone was holding me, whispering words I just couldn't understand. Their touch was warm, evoking within me life I thought I had killed oh so long ago. A touch upon my heart, upon my brow, my numb lips, my wrist and my thigh…all of them left me trembling and wanting. My entire body was alive within their touch, their warm calloused hands. I wanted to open my eyes. I wanted to call out and ask who they were…who I was. Because I knew that I didn't know who I was. As funny as it sounds…'I' felt like the stranger, not those knowing hands.
My world was growing lighter. The edges of my vision were sparking. Drawing my attention to either side of me, hoping to catch a glimpse of this bliss. A shadowy figure, growing lighter and darker at the same time. It was like watching TV with no reception, all you saw was snow. Their breath was my breath, their heart beat was my heart beat…I felt alive within them…I felt in love…
Lips, soft and moist were upon me now, then the tip of a hot tongue. It ran sinuous trails down my body trailing up from my legs to my neck. I moaned silently, unable to voice my pleasure. The tongue became hungrier as it bathed my throat and shoulders, their hot breath cooling the moisture once they stopped. I could feel myself shivering, hands gripping the sheets in fists beneath me. Suddenly sharp teeth sunk into the sensitive tendon between his neck and shoulder. I heard myself gasp, the first real sound in all that void darkness.
They were getting more desperate in their passion. Soft fingertips glided down the side of my cheek. I shut my eyes, my body trembling uncontrollably under their touch. I heard them chuckle, a deep forbidden sound no human has ever made so close to me before. I could feel the vibrations through his chest. They were laughing at me? Why, what had I done wrong? I wasn't new to sex that was for sure.
But suddenly they stopped with a grunt, fingers digging deep into my side, as they rubbed their cheek against my own. Hot breath fanning my ear almost flirtatiously. I hesitated briefly as I brought my own hands up to the others strong shoulders. They grunted again, moving my hands further up and into their short hair.
Finally their mouth, settled upon my own, opening my lips easily with their conniving tongue, twining it with my own. It was too hot. My skin was on fire where their hands gripped me. Our bodies were close, rocking into each others in a passion filled daze. The strength of this person was almost frightening. Their mouth was harsh and full of promise as if we stopped kissing the world would crumble down around us.
My vision cleared then. The world came back and before I lost sight I saw them…two blue eyes glowing like a cats in the night and a loving smile I knew was deadly…deadlier then death ever could be. I was doomed…the veins within me spoke of my doom for centuries to come.
I could feel my eyes opening…I could see the room around me; feel the strong gust of wind across my sweat stricken flesh. My breath was coming fast…so fast it seemed to burn my lungs and constrict my throat. It felt real…so real. I brought up one of my hands, rubbing water from my eyes that I knew to be tears and sweat. I was sitting up. I don't know how I got there but I was. A nightmare…no, it wasn't a bad dream. I looked down and gasped. No it was far from a bad dream if it could produce that effect from my body…it was therefore categorized as a good dream.
Soon my heart slowed, my body relaxed and I was able to ease myself back down to the bed. The sun was barely visible outside my window. Its yellow rays painting the sky with pastel green's and blues. I couldn't go back to sleep after that, I knew I never would. Dreams are places where your mind gets rid of useless information from the day…but this dream didn't fit with the grand scheme of things. Sighing, I pulled my right hand out from under the pillow, breath once again caught in my throat at what my hand now grasped. The journal…I left it under my pillow…
Oddly enough, I couldn't help but think that this journal caused my dream. And I know it sounds even weirder but I could have sworn those blue eyes hidden under that messy mop of hair and that smile…belonged to Heero. I pushed the covers away from me, scrambling out of bed. I placed the book in my nightstand under a ratty copy of one of my favorite books I had stolen from the local library, The Quartered Sea. Then I quickly pursued the tag for the laundry Quatre had mentioned before. I don't know why I was on hyper drive but my body agreed with my mind that I just needed to get out of there.
The room smelled of the dream…smelled of my anxiety. I got dressed in my clothes from last night's dinner. The only clean ones I had at the moment, which consisted of a white shirt, a black vest and black trousers. I considered it the fanciest things I ever owned. The shirt and vest I got out of a second hand store. Hey I was broke at the time and needed clothes to wear to work. Cheapest place I could buy clothes. The pants, well lets just say I had a five finger discount at one of the outlet stores in my neighborhood.
Once I re-braided my hair I was out the door with my satchel bouncing along on my thigh. I waved at the elderly couple who were making their way to the dinning room for breakfast before darting out the door. To my luck Wufei was stationed in his little alcove by the gate. The gatehouse was actually roomy and refurbished with a chair and table where the Chinese man was reading a book.
"Hey Wufei, mind opening the gate for me?" He looked up, eyes distrustful. I don't know what it was about me that he didn't like but…I was going to find out sooner rather then later. Putting my trip on hold for a microsecond I glared back, hands planted on my hips. "Alright, out with it. What is it about me that you hate so much?" I kept the smart ass comments to myself for the time being, so curious about why I was on Wufei's hate list.
He was startled at first but came back around, eyes once again narrowed. "What makes you think I hate you…I barely know you?"
"That's what I want to know. Since we have barely seen each other two times, I have some how gotten on your nerves. It annoys the hell out of me to know that someone hates me and doesn't even know me. If you want to hate me, get to know me first…that's the way it should be. Now open the door." Yeah, now I was angry at him but who the hell did he think he was. No one had the right to hate someone on first glance. And it would have been descent of him to let me know what I did wrong. That would be the polite thing to do but he just continued skirting the issue.
He got up, keys jangling from his grip… So apparently he wasn't going to tell me why. He slowly opened the lock, pulling the chains free from the gate. Just as I was storming past him he spoke quietly, voice monotone. "I don't hate you…I don't know you." With that he closed the gates in my face, locked them up once more and left…all with out looking at me.
Maybe he was just…shy. Maybe he could only like people he really knew…odd. I'll have to pursue the subject with him latter. Through the long trek to town I thought on what Wufei said. Considering my options. So if get to know him maybe he'll relax around me enough not to hate me. So I should pester him…that usually works. Heck it worked on my next door neighbor Mrs. Applebom. She was such a tight ass, always gripping about her rose bush. One day I noticed how dry the roses were and watered them from my window up above. The bad thing was, she had come out to do the exact same thing. Let's just say I watered them both and she never gave me time to explain. But later that week she knocked on my door, shoved a paper plate of chocolate chip cookies into my hands and weebled to the elevator. I took it as a sign that she understood me and from then on, I kept my music to a more tolerable level and didn't take it upon myself to water her plants from my balcony.
"Alright then, all I have to do is do something kind…or thoughtful for Wufei and keep at it. I might as well make as many…friends slash acquaintances as I can while I'm here. Who knows I might even have a world record." Finally the woods ended and the path continued straight on towards town. The small houses were actually pretty busy at this time of morning. Mothers or grandmothers were out and about putting wet clothes on the line to dry, while husbands or fathers kissed their wives and children on the foreheads and head off to work.
My stomach growled then, just as I smelled the wonderful aroma of freshly baked goodies from the local sweet shop. Yep, not the best thing for breakfast but I knew they had to at least have muffins. So I skipped into the shop, glad that it was open, and smiled at the sweet old lady behind the counter placing treats into the window display underneath. It was like a dream come true. The shelves were full of treats made to rot teeth and make one portlier then they ever should be. But luck would have it there were muffins in that window…plus my favorite of all, the chocolate chip muffin with what seemed like huge granules of sugar on top.
"What can I do for you this early in the morning young man?" Her voice was weak, wobbling a little, like most of the elderly. But it was deep…a reflection of how her former beautiful self. And I knew she was once magnificent, now ravaged by the winds of time. Her hair was long like my own, braided intricately down her back. Wisps of gray and white hairs framing her long face.
"Oh, I just thought I smelled heaven and decided to come a knocking. Those muffins right there look particularly fabulous. Mind if I buy one?" She smiled, chiding me for my sweet tooth.
"Growing men like you should be eating healthy in the morning. But who am I to tell my customers what to buy." She took the muffin out of the case and I paid my pocket breaking amount of a $1.95. One thing about back water places like this, most of the restaurants were pretty easy on the prices…especially anything involving eggs, milk and grain.
"So, how's the business been going? I'm just visiting so…" I trailed off, not really knowing how to ask my questions. Hell I didn't even know what those questions were.
"Good, not as good as it usually is but Halloween is just around the corner. So you're new here in town. Guess you're up at Lowe manor since I have yet to see you around here."
"You guess right there. So um, do you know where I might be able to locate…I don't know, a record hall of some sort…library?" I was on a limb. Not knowing where to start and not knowing where I'd end up.
"Let's see, the library where we do keep our town records is down the road here. It'll be right next to the mayor's office I do believe. I must say…I haven't been there in such a long time." She went back to putting what seemed to be fudge into the window, smiling gently and humming. "Oh, and do remember to come to our fall celebration. It's in a couple of days now. I don't know if you'll enjoy the children games during the afternoon but there is an evening party for the grownups young man."
"Well, thanks for the muffin…and the information. I'm sure I'll see you soon then. Wouldn't want to miss a party for Halloween." I bid her fair well, and left the store, heart lightening at the tiny bell tinkling above the door as I opened it. The weather was crisp, fall in the air. The farmers should be down collecting their crops and now that she reminded me of what month it actually was, I began to notice the little touches all around me. Such as pumpkins, painted and carved in shop windows or out on benches. Dried cornstalks stood next to door ways and of course I know noticed the obvious Halloween colors of black and orange in window displays.
Children seemed happier even though they still had to go to school, and the atmosphere just spoke of holiday cheer. Because once Halloween was over it was only so long until Thanksgiving and Christmas rolled around. I couldn't help but wonder what Telford did during those holidays and if I'd ever know.
I made my way across the street and towards the mayor's office. A place no one could not pass up even if they wanted to. It was the center of town square, situated behind the statue of the founding father of Telford…most likely a Lowe from the looks of the statue. Right next to the Mayor's office was the place I was searching for…the library, a quant place that seemed over shadowed by the power of the white building next door. I wonder if the mayor is good to these people…or if he's jacked up on power like all the other hunger politicians out there. Ready to sacrifice everything for just that little amount of supremacy never granted to them before.
The library steps were riddled with weeds, concrete old enough to crumble away around the edges. The door was glass pain, from top to bottom, and the door knob was at once a rich gold from the look of things but when I turned it most of the gold paint flecked off onto my hand, a mockery of stars on my pale flesh. I rubbed my hands together, taking in the building inside. It seemed even smaller then the outside portrayed and there were together only a handful of people between its minimal shelves.
I walked up to the librarian…the usual type with the dowdy clothes, small reading glasses and taut buns, which pulled their wrinkled faces up in a parody of plastic surgery.
"Hi, um, I'm looking for records of Telford. People that lived here in the past…" she stared at me for a second, her large dirty brown eyes seemed buggy behind the heavy prescription.
"Yes. Back room, down that row. You can't miss it…don't ruin anything." With that she shoved me a pair of keys and went back to…reading? How interesting. The people that I did pass were what I would consider…slackers. They weren't reading…well two of the five I passed were but the other three were to my astonishment, just sitting and sharing a smoke. Marijuana from the smell of it. Never thought Telford was the town for that type.
I found the back room easily enough. Unlocking the door proved to be a problem since the key seemed rusted over. But finally after scuffling with it for ten minutes it screeched open, causing the librarian from the front to issue an ear splitting shushing sound. I waved away the clouds of dust; thank god the light bulb was still functioning. The door closed with another squeak but I didn't pay much attention to it. It was their fault for not oiling the damn thing.
Inside was a scholar's worst nightmare. Dust and cobwebs decorated the chair and the desk. Walls on all sides were littered with file cabinets in stages of cleanliness and disarray. Thank god they were at least labeled yearly then monthly. I quickly searched out the year I was born pulling out a file or two of newspapers and set to work.
All through out my searches I kept a tight grip on my cross hoping I'd stumble upon something, anything to help me regain a lost side of my life. The two folders proved worthless. Each providing information on useless things such as, guess who died, crops are going well, and our annual picnic is now canceled. I at least thought that in the birth announcements I'd find something but nothing jumped out at me. I put the folders back and worked forward, sighing after about an hour of dust coated fun. The only thing I found interesting was the fact that a woman was found in 1988 dead in the river near Telford. Nothing was put into finding the killer since all traces of foul play were long gone except that her belly had been slashed open and she had no family what's so ever. Her name was unknown, but was known as the town's nut job…a witch.
I was disheartened when they didn't state her name but left it at that. When nothing came up in the years between my birth and now I decided to go backwards. I was actually kind of glad that there weren't that many papers the further I got back. I would have to kill myself if there was a paper every month for a year but it appeared that many issues were lost, misplaced or never printed. Telford was a small town; no one really would care if part of their history was misplaced. They had their textbooks. Their old folk who passed along tall tales during the night to the children.
Nearing the end of the line and thoroughly exhausted I learned that not only was Telford boring, it was equally mysterious. Nothing added up. One year the crops were flourishing but then the next they all died even though there was an abundance of water. It looked as if the crops hadn't taken in any of the nourishment. Then there was the fact that at least once every year there was one murder and one murder only. How disturbing is that. In the city there are a billion murders every year, the numbers fluctuating. But no, here in Telford there's just one murder every year. Got to say, that count needs to be added into the worlds record book.
Then during the winter season it seemed that the town held one day aside to mourn the death Heero Yuy. They set up a funeral pyre and burned any memorabilia they thought he would enjoy in the after life. Strange…
Finally, I got to the year labeled, 1800's misc. How odd is it that they didn't know the exact year. Inside I found only one folder. In it was random papers but the one I found interesting was an old, yellow and decrepit newspaper with Heero's name on it. On the yellowed front page was running ink forming the title, Lowe Heir Murdered. Gasping I hurried back to the table, heart beating fast. So, yeah I was disappointed that I couldn't find anything about my past…so yeah I was going to go ask through the town if there was any other place where I could figure it all out but at that moment I was stuck…enraptured by this first hand account on Heero Yuy's murder and Varelet's death.
I read through the distorted ink, angry that most of it was obliterated. From what I could gather though was that the towns people had been angry that their one preferred prince was dead all because of Varelet. Varelet was the only one present and he knew nothing, or stated that he didn't. They had been angered and upon Lowe's orders, set a pyre and burned him alive, yelling at him that he was a witch that had put Heero under his spell. Later, most regretted that decision, for they had known how wonderful Heero and Varelet acted around one another…that if they thought more clearly they could have used him for information on how to find his accomplices or the real killers. There had been sighting's of the two of them in town…and according to the newspaper; it was during those times that Heero had really smiled.
That was the only part of the paper that had been saved, just that one sheaf. Maybe that was all that was ever made of the issue. Who knows? Wiping away an errant tear…which I told myself was from the dust. I mean, come on, I've been sitting here for hours. Dust gets to you!
I flipped through the other papers in the miscellaneous folder, astonished that the number of deaths in Telford were more fluctuating before the Lowe incident. Accidents involving tavern brawls, or getting lost in the woods and getting robbed then killed. Rapes, diseases…it was a regular party of deaths back then. Most of them came with murder attached to them. Even the disease victims seemed to have been murdered. One, an old man who was a victim of purple spots seemed to have contrived the disease from a man who stabbed him with a dirty knife.
Scratching my head I put the newspapers back and rubbed my eyes again. They were irritated…I needed to get out of there. I opened the door again, and locked it up with the rusty key. Once I got back up to the front the librarian snatched the keys from me and gave me a distrustful look. What ever, I thought as I scrambled back outside.
The sun was hidden behind full dark gray clouds…rain then. Might as well start back before I get poured on. Just what I need when I have no clothes. I made my way down the steps, mind still whirling around the fact that they believed Varelet a witch. I had forgotten how superstitious people were back then. But still…
Just as I was passing the statue the door to the Mayor's office opened and a young man stepped out, closely followed by another man who was balding on top but still managed to grow a beard and a mustache never the less. Funny that.
"Son, please reconsider Mrs. Peacecrafts offer…or even that fine gentlemen… This house has been holding us down for far too long. You too never wanted to inherit it from me…what's the change now?" The man seemed desperate, hands ringing at his sides. The man was a true mess; his clothes rumpled as if slept in and there were dark circles under his reddened eyes. "Please reconsider."
"Now father, don't fret. I know what I'm doing. The manor has been in our hands for such a long time now. I'm not about to let all of it slip away from us. You take care of what 'you' need to do and I'll take care of what 'I' need to do." With that he walked away from the cringing older man. Then it hit me, this must be the mayor and his son that that lady told me about on my first day here. What was the name…oh yeah, Mr. Callaway and Adrian Callaway. For the first time I saw the front of Adrian Callaway and didn't see anything about him that would be considered ugly in Relena's eyes…but then it wasn't looks was it…it was money and power.
He was about average height. About 5'8 or so. His hair was a dusky red, long enough for him to pull his fingers through. He had a wining smile, one I'm sure he used often enough on the ladies of this small village for a little snookie late at night. But he was definitely a lady killer the way that looks went. He looked up then, surprise a lighting his features before he grinned nodded at me and got into his car. He took off, a roar down the quiet street. His eyes were red…
A/N: This is one of those informative chapters that you just have to get out of the way for the story to come together but I promise that you'll all be satisfied with the way things are going in about four chapters at the most.