Title: The Devil Has Blue Eyes

By: Aina Song

Fandom(s): Gundam Wing

Genre: Yaoi (with some Het thrown in)

Rating: PG-15

Warning(s): Contraband; Fusion; Language; Death; Murder.

Pairing(s): Heero/Quatre (constant mentionings of Het pairings)

Reviews: Yes, please.

Author's Note: (I'm afraid my usual Disclaimer will not be enough this time, so bear with me.) I, Aina Song, hereby acknowledge the illegality of the following fusion fiction, which is based very thickly upon Clara Wimberly's The Jeweled Heart of Rosemont Castle. I do not claim any rights or privileges her book may have earned her, nor do I claim credit for the book itself. This fanfiction follows her plot almost to the letter, with few changes tossed in here and there, but I must again press that it does so without the explicit permission of Ms. Wimberly, her editor(s), or her publisher(s). This fiction was not written for money; I do not profit from this in any way, shape, or form. Please excuse the illegality of it all, and I do hope my own readers will try to look past my unlawfulness and enjoy the fiction nonetheless. Thank you.

Teaser: He did not care that he was the lost heir to a winery fortune - especially since he couldn't remember that earliest piece of his childhood. He only wanted to reclaim the family that had been kept from him. But there was another who was determined to unmask him as an imposter. And, at the same time, a strange cold presence stirred again at his return, anxious to finish what it had started so long ago…

Chapter Seven

He hurried to his room, not even bothering to stop by the kitchen to speak to Sally. The approaching storm had darkened the golden oak paneling along the hallways, increasing Quatre's apprehension. It was an odd sensation for him. He had never feared anything, except perhaps being alone and homeless, a scenario traveling with a caravan had always chased away. The darkness of someone's supernatural stories had never bothered him until now. He strode quickly down the hallway and into his room, immediately lighting a lamp near the doorway.

He scanned the shadowy room and went to light more lamps. Curiously, he stepped to the windows, looking across the rooftops. He was beginning to get a feel of direction in the castle, and he thought he was somewhere over the kitchen courtyard. He stood on tiptoe and stretched as far as he could, but still he could see nothing. Not the stable, or the roadway near it.

Sighing, he turned away, wishing there was someone in the castle he could trust, someone he could ask about the story Trowa had told him. He had been so caught up in it and his curiosity about the wolf that he had thought little about the coming evening. But now, as he recalled Heero's words about dinner with the family, a heavy dread filled him. How he wished he could escape that ordeal! Maybe if he rode off into the forest again… But no, not yet, not until he could determine whether there was anything credible behind Trowa's warning. And then, with a sudden simmering flush of temper, Quatre wondered just where the darker man thought he was going to find something suitable to wear.

Just at that moment someone knocked at the door. He opened it to find Cathy standing there, smiling broadly at him. And as though she'd read his thoughts, a fine three-piece suit was draped over her arm. "This is for you," she said, stepping into the room. "To wear to dinner tonight."

"To wear to… but where did you get it? Whose is it?"

"It's yours, now," she said with a touch of exasperation. "But where Mister Yuy got it, I have no idea - the fit's too small for it to be one of his own. Never know about that man; he has a way of getting things done." She laid out the suit across the bed and stepped back to let Quatre admire it.

Quatre had never seen anything like it, in all the world. The shirt was of soft white silk, while the vest was cut of dark black velvet. The trousers and jacket were both a clean, crisp grey. And then Cathy surprised him further, opening her fist with another smile to show a pair of glistening silver cufflinks. "Aren't they something," she whispered. "And the colors of the suit will go perfectly with your pale skin and golden hair." She paused, "I could brush it out and tie it back for you, if you want."

"Thank you, no," he refused, through clenched teeth. "I'll manage it myself, tonight."

She looked at him, studiously. "You don't like it, do you."

"The suit is fine… But I have clothes to wear; I don't need charity from the high and mighty Mister Yuy. Or anyone else, for that matter." Quatre didn't know why he was so angry, or why the sight of the suit filled him with such sad, lonely feelings. It was not something he could explain, or even wanted to think about just then. He looked up, "I would like a bath, though, if…"

"Sure," Cathy nodded, still looking a bit puzzled. "I'll see to it right away."

After she'd gone, Quatre stood staring at the suit on the bed, and the cufflinks she had placed near the jacket's sleeve. He'd always wondered what it would feel like to wear something so fine. But, stubbornly, he picked the suit up and hung it in a tall armoire across the room, stashing the cufflinks in one of its overhead drawers, out of sight and temptation. He would wear his own clothes and he would be himself… Quatre Winner. If Heero Yuy expected to turn him into another of those submissive young gentlemen who fawned over the darker man as much as the ladies, he was badly mistaken.

Cathy had little to say when she returned with the water for Quatre's bath. "Sure you don't want me to do your hair? I promise not to make it look girly or anything."

"No, Cathy," he shook his head. "But it has nothing to do with you. Perhaps, some day…"

"Sure," she smiled. "We'll do it privately, just the two of us, and if you don't like it no one will be the wiser."

He smiled at her attempt to console and understand him. He imagined it was hard for her, being the soft feminine sort of girl she was, and the only maid assigned to assist a young male.

She glanced to where he'd laid a clean pair of trousers on the bed. "You're wearing that to dinner?"

"I am."

She bit her lip as she placed clean towels on a chair near the tub. "Mister Yuy will have a fit, you know…"

"What?"

"Begging your pardon for saying so. But Mister Yuy will be madder than the devil! I told you before, didn't I, that his word is law here. And he's purely fearsome when he gets mad."

Quatre could believe that, remembering the conversation in the stable, but he refused to admit to it. With a lift of his chin, he said, "Too bad."

"Oh," she fretted with a shake of her red hair. "I hope you know what you're doing. But if you don't mind my saying so, I've heard you can catch a bear much quicker with honey."

"Well," he said wryly. "I've heard that, too." He laughed, "But I'm not sure I want to catch a bear; they're much too bad-tempered."

She smiled and shook her head. "What I mean is, if you want to prove you're Mister Khushrenada's son, don't you think you should be extra nice?"

So, she had already heard the story too. Sighing, Quatre spread his arms wide and looked at her. "This is me - they can take it or leave it. I don't intend to beg."

"Well… good luck, then. I only hope you won't need it." Cutting her eyes at him, she went silently from the room.

He locked the door, then undressed and stepped into the warm bath water. He could not resist the sigh of pleasure that escaped his lips. This was a luxury he rarely enjoyed - as the caravan always bathed in cold streams, or under freezing waterfalls - and it felt like pure heaven. He lay there a long while, letting the feel of it seep into his skin, before finally scrubbing himself clean. The water had already begun to cool when at last he emerged.

As he donned his trousers and a clean shirt, he felt infinitely better. What was so bad about being oneself? And how angry could Heero get, just because Quatre chose to wear his own clothes instead of a suit donated to him out of pity or spite? He walked down to the dining room feeling justified and hardly concerned at all with the arrogant man's reaction.

His confidence didn't last long.

When he had been told they would be dining in the family dining room, he had naively pictured a small, cozy atmosphere. He should have known that by his standards, nothing in the castle could be considered small or cozy. And he was completely unprepared for the grandeur of the family dining room any more than the number of people who were there. And every one of them, it seemed, turned slowly to look at Quatre as he stopped awkwardly at the doorway. The room was utterly silent, and he was aware only of the shock and dismay on their faces as their eyes moved over the strands of hair that always seemed to stray wildly from his gypsy's tail and the commoner's clothes he wore.

Only for a moment did he consider turning and running away. But then he saw darkened blue eyes staring at him from beneath lowered brows. Heero's look was coldly furious.

But, oddly, it was that look that spurred Quatre on and made him want to stay. He told himself quickly that if Treize Khushrenada was truly his father, then Heero Yuy would have no more authority over him. And that was something the blond could look forward to with relish.

He straightened his shoulders and strolled into the room, staring all the while at the faces about him. One by one they stepped aside as though he might somehow contaminate them. He hoped no one knew how grateful he was when Treize Khushrenada came forward and put his arm lightly over his Quatre's shoulders.

"My friends," the older man said with a slight quiver in his voice. "I asked all of you here tonight to introduce you to a very special young man, one who will brighten our home at Rosemont and bring a contentment that has been missing from my life for seventeen years." His hand tightened upon the blond's shoulder as he continued, "This is my son Quatre Raberba, who has finally come home to us."

There were gasps all around the room and looks of disbelief. Quatre saw a flicker of pain in Lady Khushrenada's dark eyes when she heard her husband speak of contentment, and the blond could understand her anguish. It had sounded as though Treize's years with her had meant nothing; Quatre knew she had interpreted it the same way.

Heero went to stand beside his mother, as though ready to console her. But she bravely smiled, acting as though she was in complete agreement with her husband's words. Quatre was curious about her, and about the strange relationship she had with his father. Was she, as Cathy had said, a miserable complaining woman who made her husband's life an agony? Or was she a woman trying hard to please him at any cost to herself?

Whatever the case, there was one thing Quatre could say for his supposed father. The older man seemed to have accepted him completely, without Heero Yuy's investigation, and Quatre could not resist a look of triumph toward the man who stared at him with such cool, disdainful eyes. Not only had Treize accepted Quatre as his son, but he seemed to care not one whit about the blond's way of dressing. And that certainly put him in a favorable light as far as Quatre was concerned.

"Let me make the introductions before we take our seats for dinner," Treize said.

Quatre looked around at the curious faces of the people gathered there. Heero and his mother moved to stand beside Treize Khushrenada. And Quatre had the feeling they were there to protect the older man from him, as much as to offer support. After all, everyone in the castle seemed to worry about his illness.

A tall gentleman immediately stepped forward and took Quatre's hand in his. The blond thought his look of welcome was genuine. He looked to be just shy of Treize's age; his skin was lightly flushed with a rose-bronze tan, and his long, unbound hair was platinum blond. He was a handsome man, and his manner was friendly. Perhaps it was his warm silver eyes that hid all and nothing as they gazed down at Quatre.

"Bonjour," he greeted in perfect French, and his hand briefly squeezed tighter around Quatre's own before letting go.

Quatre could feel himself grow warm beneath his collar, uncertain how to respond to the rolling purr he detected in the other's voice. But the man seemed charmed and amused by his embarrassment, giving a soft rumbling laugh.

"This, my boy, is an old and dear friend, Zechs Merquise," Treize chuckled. "He is a master winemaker from the Liore River region of France, near St. Nazaire. Heero persuaded him to come here only a few months ago, and already he has made vast improvements to our vineyards."

"Vineyards," Quatre echoed, realizing now what he had seen on his ride. "Of course… I saw them today. They're very exceptional."

The man quirked a slim eyebrow at Quatre. "Truly a Khushrenada," he commented softly. "No other in the world would have such an ingrained appreciation for the vines upon first sight. You must be proud indeed, Treize."

Quatre's father beamed as the man walked away to find a seat at the table. But the next face Quatre looked into was not quite so agreeable, nor so welcoming.

"This, son, is Dorothy Une. She is Hiromi's cousin."

Quatre smiled at the woman. She, like Heero, had startling blue eyes that looked him over boldly. She was an older woman, and the blond thought she might have been very attractive were it not for her haughty air and unflattering eyebrows. She was the only woman in the room who had not pinned her hair behind her head, as seemed the style, but instead let it fall in sleek blond cascades behind her back.

"How do you do?" She said in a cool, unfriendly way.

The next woman was not much warmer, although Quatre sensed a more pleasant manner about her. She stepped forward boldly and took his hand in both of hers, hardly waiting for an introduction. "I'm Missus Darlian, your nearest neighbor." Even as she spoke, she turned to a younger lady at her side, who seemed barely more than a girl. "And this is my daughter Relena."

For some unexplainable reason Quatre's heart sank when he looked at Relena. She was absolutely beautiful, with pretty sand-brown hair and smiling chalk-green eyes. She was a bit shorter than him, but with a delicate, willowy figure that would beg the attention of any young man. But she smiled at Quatre in such a sweet, welcoming way that he immediately recalled his manners and bowed slightly to her when she curtsied.

"I'm so happy you've come, Quatre Raberba," she said in a whispery little voice. "It shall be wonderful having a friend my own age nearby."

The offer sounded so very genuine, and Quatre returned her smile gratefully. "Thank you."

He was introduced to several other people, but by then his mind was in a jumble, and he doubted he'd be able to remember any of them.

As he took a seat beside his father he glanced toward the door and saw Wufei as he waited for them to be seated. With a little nod of recognition, he smirked at Quatre and then turned to open the door to summon the waiters who stood outside with carts of food.

Quatre was dismayed to find himself also seated next to the arrogant Heero Yuy, knowing he must have looked like a wretched little urchin by comparison. The blond suspected he'd never seen a man so elegantly dressed nor quite so devastatingly handsome. His wild burgundy hair was combed into some semblance of order, and dampened with some masculine-scented oil that put Quatre in mind of an ocean storm. His nearness made the blond very uncomfortable.

The huge array of food was unbelievable, and it looked and smelled delicious. But there were so many forks and spoons on either side of Quatre's plate… and when one of the waiters stood at his shoulder he was completely lost.

"Allow me," Heero said smoothly in a soft, low voice. With casual ease he reached toward the nearest silver platter. It was a heavily glazed meat dish.

"Vegetarian," Quatre swiftly hissed under his breath, cringing back from the platter.

With the barest quirk of his brow, Heero gave an infinitesimal nod of his head and moved on to the salads, placing a few selections on the blond's plate.

Quatre wasn't sure if he should feel grateful, or embarrassed. He glanced around, watching the others eat, then placed his hand to the side above the silverware, wondering which fork to use. He felt the lightest touch of Heero's hand as the darker man guided his fingers to the proper utensil. It happened so quickly that no one else was even aware of it.

Thankfully, conversation returned to the room and Quatre was no longer the center of attention. He began to relax a bit and even to enjoy the meal.

The man beside him, with only a slight turn of his head, spoke quietly. "Your stubbornness defies description," he said. The blond had seen the way Heero had looked at him earlier, and he knew the man was speaking of his refusal to dress up for dinner.

"I am only being myself," he shrugged, forcing a smile. "I will not pretend to be something I'm not."

"That is not the point," Heero muttered.

"Then what is the point? My obedience to you?"

He laughed, a hollow, whispered sound. "Where do you get such ideas? I think you have a great deal to learn about me… and about life."

"And I think I am not as stupid as you imagine."

The darker man sucked in a quick, almost inaudible hiss of breath. "I never said you were stupid," was his tight response.

"Doesn't matter that you never said it. It's how you make me feel." Quatre glanced across the table and saw Lady Khushrenada watching them carefully. She was not pleased, and the blond wondered whether she could hear what was being said.

"Perhaps this is something we should discuss at another time," Heero said quietly, his voice once more in control.

For the briefest instant, Quatre wondered what the man would do if the blond shouted at him. He felt he would have enjoyed making a scene, simply because Heero was so careful not to. But, for once, he thought better of his first instincts. "I don't think we have anything to discuss," he said.

Heero turned to stare at him, and Quatre could almost feel the blaze of those fierce blue eyes burning into his skin.

"That's where you're wrong, urchin," he rasped quietly. "I may be the only one in this room who is not fooled by your charade. I think we have a great deal to discuss. And we will… very soon."