Disclaimers: Don't own any part of Gundam Wing nor it's characters. It's a loan.

Warnings: Shounen-ai, OOCs, AU (what else do I write?)

Circle of Destiny

Part 13

Odin had been feeling sick ever since Duo took him to see the 'treasure'. It wasn't a rock or a jewel or something that he could take with him. On the other hand, he felt a huge surge of relief that he couldn't steal from Duo. No one could steal fog. But where would his family be without the promise of this bride price and his future bride's family fortune? Would all other children lose their mothers like he did? He promised that his tragedy would never happen again to anyone.

But would he be able to do that to Duo? Duo was the first person who gave him his love so freely. It was unconditional and from the heart. It hurt him to lie to Duo. But did he have a choice? He cringed when he thought of the retribution that would be meted out by his father if he failed to return with the promised jewel.

"But it is nothing but air!" Odin had protested.

Duo had laughed. "No, it is a mist. No one expected that our greatest treasure is a mist. Actually, you are the second person besides me that knows what it actually is."

Odin's jaw dropped. "No… no one else knows? How could they not?"

"It has been a long standing secret amongst the Master Weavers that it has to remain a secret. Besides, who would believe that something as insubstantial as mist would be the one power sustaining life for elves all over?"

Odin continued to shake his head, images of his father exactly punishment on him for his failure running rampant through his head. But there was another picture as well, one that involved him staying here, in this secluded place with Duo forever. Living life very simply, since no elves were allowed here, there was little fear of being found out and executed. It was a very interesting thought.

He didn't realise that over the past few weeks he had gotten so used to the forest that his feet were taking him out of it, and closer to the border, closer to the land of Man once again. Hands suddenly grabbed at him and pulled him into a bush.

"Lord Odin, I am glad to see you well."

Odin swung around, gaping at the man standing behind him. "Walter!"

Sir Walter was a knight that served his father absolutely loyally. That was in outward appearances, of course. There was something about this knight that made Odin's skin crawl. He had a gleam in his eyes, something horribly ambitious that scared Odin immeasurably. He knew of his father's aspirations and not only supported him, he encouraged him as well. Odin didn't really like him actually. Sir Walter made his skin crawl.

"Have you gotten what needs to be retrieved?" Sir Walter raised his eyebrows enquiringly. He trailed his eyes over Odin's body, searching almost urgently.

Odin shivered once again. He made a huge mistake this time. In his preoccupation of seeing Duo's 'treasure' he had walked beyond the boundaries of the misty forest. Here, he knew was not offered the direct protection of the myst. How he knew was another story. Here, he was helpless to anyone who was stronger, faster or more skilled with a weapon than him. Since, currently he was weaponless, that meant just about everyone.

"It can't be retrieved," Odin squared his shoulders defiantly. He had decided that whether for good or for ill, he was doing to stand up to this person. He was the heir to his father's position, for goodness sake. Although, for now the position was nothing more than a small holding, he would, by his own power make it into one of the most prosperous lands. And he wasn't going to steal the Elves' lifeblood for it.

Sir Walter's expression twisted into one of rage and pure cruelty. Without even thinking, his fist lashed out, catching Odin full on the face, sending the younger man tumbling to the ground. "You failure. You can't even do this simple thing. How am I… your father supposed to be an important lord once again if he has whelps like you?"

Odin flew to the ground, clutching his aching cheek. He sat up, glaring that the man who dared hit him. He spat out a mouthful of blood. "How dare you…"

"Shut up, your father will punish you. That's for sure." Sir Walter grabbed the slighter man and hefted him onto his shoulder.

Odin was swallowed by panic. No, he was leaving Duo. He couldn't leave him now, not yet! He struggled against the restraining hold of his father's knight. Then, a head blow descended on his head and everything starting turning to black.

Frantic, deep inside him, he called out. DUO!

Then darkness claimed him.

XXxxXX

Nefros knew he shouldn't have said anything to Odin. But he wanted to show the other man that he trusted him. That this was for real, for life, and if Odin was willing, for eternity. He truly believed that Odin wouldn't do anything that could possible hurt him. There was love between them, he could feel it, see it when the man looked at him.

He couldn't believe that Odin had never experienced the pleasures of the flesh before and his innocent, naïve, precious reactions were something Nefros would treasure for eternity, preferably with Odin by his side. He knew it was better not to tell anyone he was harbouring a human fugitive at his cottage for the while until everything was settled and Odin was irrevocably his. Once the Myst agreed to his plan, giving Odin a part of Nefros' soul, making him immortal, he would tell his father his intention to mate with this human.

"Nefros," Novhir poked his brother none too gently on the arm. "You are supposed to be spending time with me.

Nefros started and forced a smile. His little brother had gotten sullen that he had been spending so little time with him and had sent a barrage of carrier birds to his home. Nefros decided it was time to take Novhir for a fishing trip or to spend another day cleaning up all the tiny 'presents' those birds left visiting him home constantly. Of course, now he realised just how badly his concentration suffered when he couldn't go more than a few minutes without the human invading his thoughts.

"Sorry, little brother," Nefros apologised, abashed. He backed up a bit as Novhir peered closely into his eyes, his sea coloured eyes locking with deep violet. They narrowed.

"Something is wrong with you," his brother stated much to his shock.

"Ex… excuse me?" Nefros stammered. Perhaps his brother knew something? Suspected something? The Myst didn't necessarily only spoke to him, but it had more of an affinity with him, it found communication with him easier than most other elves.

Novhir frowned now. Nefros knew why. It was not always that the Master Weaver lost composure to his little brother. Especially since he was elevated.

"You are blushing, constantly day dreaming, and you smile at the most odd times." A large smile creased the blond's features. "Perhaps you are… in love?" Novhir gasped, clapping his hands together, pleased at his logic.

Nefros never knew it was possible to choke on air. But choke he did.

"Who is he? Do I know him? When can I meet him? Huh? Huh?" Novhir was blatantly ignoring his brother's desperate attempts to draw breath into his lungs and was all the while tugging at his sleeve, begging like a little puppy. And succeeding rapidly as well. No one could deny Novhir anything and the little brat knew that, using it to his advantage as often as possible.

Then it hit him. "Wait!" Nefros tried to forestall his brother. "How do you know it is a him?"

Novhir smiled widely, deep dimples twinkling mischievously. "You are so easy," he shook his head. "So you admit there is someone?"

Nefros groaned. He fell for that completely. Never trust the deviousness of little brothers. "There's no one."

"Right," Novhir bobbed his head sagely. "When can I meet No One?"

Nefros sighed.

DUO!!!

The silent screamed shattered the air and knifed through Nefros. He shot up to his feet, looking around frantically. It was Odin. Odin was calling him. It was a call filled with panic and pain, and of loss. It was also a silent call, one that no human could possibly be able to produce. The trees suddenly came alive with the wind, blowing wildly. Branches moved restlessly, scattering their leaves to the forest floor beneath, while the two frightened elves beneath were caught in the storm of green.

"There is unrest," Novhir whispered to his brother, clutching Nefros' sleeve.

It was then the pain hit him. Nefros screamed, doubling over in pain as something was forcefully ripped from his very soul.

"Nefros!" Novhir was calling out frantically to him. "What's wrong?"

But Nefros couldn't answer, the pain was too great, the pain of loss. The loss of life. The loss of the Myst.

The Sylver Myst was no longer within the forest. And it seemed that Odin Lowe had stolen it from him.

That day, Nefros' tears were mixed with the blood dripping from his hands from he knew that he would be responsible for the death of his people.

"Something tells me I will see you again," the elf said. And he will, for the next time, he would claim back what was his and revenge would be imminent.

XXxxXX

Odin Lowe shot up from bed, gasping. He swung his head around, looking for his lover. He didn't expect to ever find Duo again. He had betrayed the elf. There was no way that Duo would ever forgive him. It was worse that he never got a chance to return to the forest. His eyes settled on the mirror on the opposite side of his bed. He stifled a shocked gasp. That wasn't him! It was his face! It wasn't…

Heero Yuy…

Yes, that was his name.

Memories.

Emotions.

Heero drew in a ragged breath, dreams, or memories nearly overwhelming him. He ran his hand through his damp hair, noting that it was shaking. He was Odin Lowe, he was the one who eventually rose to the throne to build a wonderful city that freed the people of the whims and fancies of a King's desire. But as it would, the blood and the ideal had waned as ambition took over as the generations continued and here it was Kyrin today, a cesspool of filth and slavery. But wasn't it all just a dream? Something his fever and hallucinations brought on?

Fever, hallucinations… pain!

Heero grabbed his side, remembering at the last instant the attack of the boar and his sharp tusks. He expected to find blood, or even a wrapping of a bandage around his midsection.

"You're awake," a soft voice spoke from a dark corner.

"Sally," Heero greeted, frowning in confusion. "What happened?"

"You were hurt in the hunt," Sally came forward, checking him for signs of residual fever. She sighed in relief when she found nothing.

Heero's frown intensified. "But… I don't hurt."

A small dimple appeared on either side of the healer's cheeks. "You like pain?"

"I got gored by a boar. I would expect some degree of pain," Heero groused, not really enjoy being laughed at.

Sally flicked her eyes surreptitiously over the small cot in the corner she emerged from.

Heero followed the subtle movement to spy a long rope of hair dangling almost to the floor. He started as one thought flashed through his mind. Duo, Nefros.

"Who is he really?" Heero demanded. "Who are you all?"

Sally straightened, standing proud before the King. "We are your servants, nothing more."

The stressed placed on the word 'servant' was painful to Heero. The woman practically raised him. He lowered his head into his hands, rubbing it wearily. "Why do I have so many thoughts in my head? So many memories. Odin Lowe, Nefros. Who am I really?" He asked forlornly, his voice muffled.

Sally frowned in confusion. Something odd was going on here but she couldn't for the life of her comprehend what. And it all started and ended with their young prince, currently unconscious in a deep healing sleep.

"You are Heero Yuy, king of this country," Sally answered.

And also the person who betrayed the one you love, a small part of Heero's soul jeered. Dark blue eyes travelled to the person lying close by. There lay his answers, and there lay the end of the mystery.

Sally left soon after to find Quatre, leaving Heero alone with the prone slave. Once, where he was at ease with this young man, now he felt only turmoil. He just couldn't be sure why. The dreams were so vivid but a part of him knew they were more than dreams. But memories of a past life? That was more than absurd. Then how could he explain the dream he had been having for as long as he could remember? Dreams of Duo's eyes staring with him first with love, then with hatred and distrust? Duo's voice echoing in his mind, the familiar touch of Duo's hand.

Duo, Duo, Duo.

Everything was about him.

Heero sat on a low stool next to the cot, his hand reaching out unconsciously toward the slave. He reached down, brushing a few stray tendrils of hair away from pale cheeks and was surprised when Duo turned, briefly nuzzling into his hand. Something in his heart twisted, almost as if subconsciously recognised the gesture. He leaned forward and pressed a soft, quick kiss to Duo's lips. He was shocked at the familiarity that hit him from out of nowhere. This felt… right, not only right, it felt… familiar. It felt… good. Meant to be might be a little strong but there was definitely more than the attraction Heero had been feeling all these weeks after taking Duo in. It was like, something was coming together, the broken parts of his soul fusing into one whole. Then he shuddered. That sounded extremely… trite. He was not someone who experienced trite but why did everything he learned go out of the window since the moment he laid eyes on the slave?

With a low growl of annoyance, Heero pushed away from the bed to stand next to a tall window. From up here, the corruption that beset Kyrin was barely discernable and the beauty of it was breathtaking. Heero wanted Kyrin to be as beautiful as it once was, all those years ago when the kingdom was at its peak. He could still see in his mind the first time he set eyes on the land. It was hardly more than swamps given to him by the greedy king. It was a dare and an insult to his intelligence, after all, it was punishment to him for refusing to marry his betrothed. He was to make Kyrin into a fertile land filled with riches from vegetation or he was to be banished. It had seemed like an impossibility at that time, and the small band of people that he brought with him had voiced similar concerns.

But they also should have been punished by the king then, and they really had nowhere to go. So with a small band of 'fugitives' he had started working the land. Within five years Kyrin had turned from a seemingly barren wasteland to a rich fertile farmland. He, now as leader, had his hands full trying to deal with all the migrations into his then smallish holding. Suddenly neighbours were eager to create relations with him, pushing daughters at him. He felt sick at all the farce.

Then, the inevitable happened. The king saw the bounty and decided he needed a part of it for himself. He dove in demanding tithes to be paid to him and when he was blatantly ignored, war was declared. But Odin had prepared himself for this day. He had his own reserve army at hand. He led his holding as his lover taught him, by being fair and just and by equality. And everyone, from former soldiers to farmhands came to his aid during the war. It wasn't very much later that the entire serf community followed the uprising and came to Odin's aid.

It was a short fight but needless to say, Odin was crowned King not two months after the initial declaration of war. The former king was assassinated in his sleep and those loyal to him fell to pieces soon after. After all, what was the point in fighting when the person that would provide you with riches was no long around?

Odin never took a queen, despite many exhortations to do so. He had instead appointed one of his advisor's son as heir. He was someone Odin saw promise and trusted. But of course, years later, that promise and that blood weakened. It weakened enough that an evil practice he had thought would die off after a few years - slavery. And it had taken his beautiful lover hold and now he was here again to make sure it never happened again. It was his cowardice for waiting so long before rebelling against his father, rebelling against the marriage that was arranged for him, despite giving his heart to a longhaired elf with gorgeous eyes. Then when he went back there twenty years later as king, he couldn't find an entrance into the Sylvermyst any longer. It was as if it never existed, eaten up by the forest it came from. Odin had never forgotten the only person he had ever loved for as long as he lived and it hurt knowing he wouldn't be able to find him ever again…

Heero stumbled back from the window, gasping for breath. He dropped to his knees, cradling his head in his hands. Not again, not more hallucinations.

Not hallucinations, but memories.

"I'm not Odin Lowe," he growled.

"Yes, you are," a soft, tired voice called out.

Heero jerked his head in the direction of the voice, shocked to see the slave awake. Duo was standing unsteadily on his feet, tall and slender, his eyes flashing violet fire and his ears delicately pointed at the tip. The illusion had been burned away, and Heero saw before him the elf his dreams… hallucinations… memories… The elf that was his lover, so many aeons ago.

"And I hate you, Odin Lowe."