Gundam Wing/AC 1. Chapter 1

Candlelight (1/?)

Author: Osco

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xS

Rating: R

Warnings: Lemony goodness, violence, language, magical happenings, and ugly Trolls attempting to ruin the story!

Summary: Retelling of the fairy tale, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" GW style. What if you made a mistake? What if the person you loved had to pay the price? How far would you go to save him? How about a place that can't exist?

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I am but a poor college student who has no hold over the characters whatsoever and is doing this as a pastime.

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Chapter One: Bump in the Night

Once upon a time, there was a poor crofter who lived on the outskirts of civilization with his family. He had not always been a poor man, in fact, he had once been a very rich man, with bountiful fields of exotic spices and many servants at his beckon call. However, after the death of his second and most beloved wife, followed by his marriage to another to help with his family, a terrible drought came upon the lands of his forefathers, and he was reduced to almost nothing. This man did not despair though, even though his new wife surely did, because he still retained his many children and their love.

He had many daughters, twenty nine in fact, and all were fair of form and face. Many of his daughters came from his first marriage, a woman who had left the comfort of a merchant's wife's life for a circus performer, but he had four children with his second wife. Each was golden, as their mother was, but it was his youngest child, and only son, whom reminded the crofter of his most beloved wife, Katrina, most of all. Katrina may have died giving birth to this child, but she left him with her golden hair, swirling blue eyes, and gentle manner. The poor crofter took comfort that he had such a visceral reminder of his past love in his precocious son. He even named the boy after his late wife, and swore that no harm would ever come to him. The young boy grew into maturity and the child-like beauty that had accompanied him all through life melted into a handsome face and form that had many Lords and Ladies take notice…even though he was a mere crofter's son. The boy would always play his violin for his father on the edge of the fields while he tried to farm the infertile land, an effort to comfort a man who was doing all he could to help his family.

True, it was not perfect, but it was their life. The poor crofter had the love of his family, and that would make his misfortunes seem mild in comparison with the joy they brought him each day.

However, things did not become more favorable towards the crofter and his large family as time went on, and even though his daughters were all very beautiful and of an age to marry, he could not offer a dowry to any suitors who would come calling. The despair he had fought against for so many years began to break through his defenses…that and the biting comments from his new wife. And so, the crofter prepared for a bitter winter, knowing that it would be especially difficult to support his family with such meager supplies and poor housing against the chill winds, with a silent fear that not all would make it through this year. Until one cold and bleak winter's night when a visitor would come and change it all…

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It was cold outside and probably to early to be watching the stars come out, but Quatre didn't care about that, ambling through the rows of dying crops on his father's land. He was able to escape his dull work at the village market early after pleading with the owner's wife, and was going to enjoy the little free time he had until he heard the shrill voice of his step-mother calling from the house. He hardly ever came out to the fields anymore, not since his sixteenth birthday, a year ago; the Lady Une had said he needed to help his father provide for the family and couldn't indulge in his childish daydreams and games any longer. However, it was just too nice a feeling, wandering through the lands of his family, to give up no matter what his step-mother might think.

He didn't mind giving up his free time to help his father, as he loved being able to help out his family any way he could, but to say he hadn't missed the free time would have been a lie. He missed playing his beaten and rusty violin to his father has he worked and he missed playing with Iria and the twins in the fields. He had imagined himself having grand adventures when he was a boy…not toiling away as an apprentice scribe for the rest of his young life.

Quatre stopped in front of a large boulder, one he and his older sister Iria had named Mount Winner after their surname when they were younger, and climbed up, careful to not ruin his already grubby clothes further. He held back a shiver the brisk night air invoked and reclined against the flat surface of the boulder. True, it did not get all that cold in the desert nation in which his family lived, but it would get quite frigid during the fall as it turned into winter. Content in just watching the twinkling lights peek out of the fading orange sky, Quatre let out a contented sigh and closed his dark blue eyes, willing all the worry, fear, and frustration his family inspired within him flow off until there was nothing left. He didn't like to talk to her when he was so upset…she didn't deserve it.

"Hello, Mother," Quatre said softly up to the heavens. He opened his eyes and smiled softly. "I'm sorry for not coming sooner, but I'm sure you understand. Father's worrying himself sick again…I'm sure you've seen it. Can't say I blame him. The fields just keep doing worse and worse each passing year…I think he's worried there won't be enough food for the whole family to last until the spring. He tries to pretend like everything's fine, but I know it's not.

"All the girls are fine…except Iria. She's taken ill again and we don't have enough money to take her to see a healer. Lady Une, you remember her don't you? Father's new wife…don't worry though, he still loves you more than he could ever love her. Anyway, she says it's because of the wind coming through the planks of the cottage and that we should move into a better house. I don't know why she keeps on making Father feel terrible about the house, it's not like he isn't trying his hardest to please her and provide for his family…he's worried about Iria too. Her cough sounds horrible and she can barely make it to the village without having to rest…I'm scared for her, Mother.

"I've been considering it…and before you lecture me about it let me tell you that Iria and the twins have already done it thoroughly! But, I don't see any other way I can help. It's not as if I am a Mage of old who can heal Father's lands, or a healer who can make Iria better…Lady Une might be right about this. If I…if I accept Lord Kushrenada's proposal, I can help our family Mother…then maybe my sisters can finally be wed and Iria can get better…"

Quatre trailed off as he sat up, mind and heart conflicting too much to talk properly for a moment. He stared off into the dreaded forests of the Fey, not really focusing his now dull blue eyes on anything in particular. He didn't want to be married to Lord Kushrenada, but the Lord was a rich man who could help provide for his family a little. But…he didn't love him. The blond-haired boy tried to tell himself that he could learn to love this man, but deep in his heart he sensed that wasn't going to happen. If he married the Lord, he was going to lose everything he loved in life and be placed in a cage that would bar him from the adventure he still wanted so desperately.

But his family mattered more than his own freedom. He had just turned seventeen, maybe it was time to grow up out of those silly notions of grandeur and accept this responsibility. Quatre shook his head as he brought himself back to reality, looking up one last time with a sad smile on his face. "I'm sorry, Mother. I'm afraid you've heard nothing but horrible things from me tonight…I wish I had happier news. I won't decide yet what I will do, but I just hope you'll still want to listen to me once the choice is made…"

Quatre placed a kiss on the tips of his fingers and blew it up into the night sky as a farewell and began to slide down off the boulder…until a movement to his left caught his eye. He stopped and curiously looked to the West, towards the Fey woods. His breath caught in his throat as he saw a flash of white disappear into the dense forest and Quatre felt a strange sensation wash over him, calming his nerves. Whatever it was that he saw, Quatre knew that there was nothing to fear from it…it was something that had been watching over him as he talked with his mother.

Still, the fact that it had originated from the awful Fey forest made the blond a bit wary, so he silently slid off the rock and made his way back to his father's cottage. Ever since childhood, Quatre had been told horrible stories about the Fey woods and about the creatures that lived therein. As a child he recognized the tales of the Fey monsters snatching up naughty children as nothing more than a way to get them to behave, but that didn't mean that dangerous creatures didn't live there. It would probably be best to just leave whatever he saw in the woods be and forget he ever saw it; the last thing he needed was for Lady Une to say he had been coerced by the beasts of Fey and needed to be sent away to a convent. Laughing at his step-mother's slightly exaggerated reaction, Quatre made his way back to his home for the past seventeen summers.

The cottage he and his large family lived in may have appeared to be a hovel to any passerby and in all practicality was, but that had never mattered to Quatre because it was his home. Everything from the rusty doornails to the slits between the wood panels meant a great deal to his father so it meant a great deal to Quatre. He could already hear the noise coming from inside, most likely his sisters battling to take a bath, and smiled at the simplicity of it all. If his mind would not change by the next dawn, he would enjoy some of the last moments of love with his family in whatever shape it took.

Quatre fended off at least five sisters at the door, all cooing over where he had been and how worried they were about him, before he made his way further in and placed a kiss on his sister Iria's forehead. She looked pale and had dark circles under her eyes, but she wasn't coughing…Quatre took heart in that. He managed a smile for his glaring step-mother and quickly went to wash his hands for dinner, no matter how meager it may be. The cottage was rather large considering, it had five rooms plus a kitchen and bath, but with over thirty people living there it was rather crowded. As it was, Quatre shared a room with five of his youngest sisters, including Iria whom was only two summers older, and it was similar arrangements for the other rooms.

He returned and helped serve dinner, all the while humming a soft tune under his breath to help relax the atmosphere. He didn't know why his gift for music was able to calm people so, just as he did not know how he always seemed to know what others were feeling, but his father said his mother could do the same so he didn't think anything bad of it. Of course Lady Une did not approve of his 'gifts,' but she hardly approved of anything he did so he didn't take much stock in her words. Dinner went by smoothly, with only one sister being hit by another's elbow and only three derogatory comments spoken aloud by his step-mother, and after it became a fight to see who would sit closest to the fire. Quatre had tried to convince Iria to move closer, but she was as kind (and as stubborn) as he and refused to take away heat from her sisters.

So, Quatre settled into a game of chess with his youngest sister as they both enjoyed watching the others and Lady Une squabble like hens over a rooster for room before the fire; their father had long ago given up trying to scold them to share and had settled down beside his two youngest children. The game went by smoothly and slowly, each enjoying the strategy the game presented. Quatre grinned after a time and said, "Iria, I will win in five turns."

"How can you be so sure?" Iria bantered back with a laugh. She knew full well her brother was probably telling the truth…it had been years since anyone had beaten him at chess. She shot her father a knowing look before looking back at her brother, who was still grinning in an almost feral way.

"Well," Quatre began as he moved his bishop to capture one of Iria's black knights. "First, I will take your knight, leaving you with only one viable move…"

"I take your bishop with my Queen," Iria finished for him, beginning to see the trap her clever brother had set for her. "And then you…"

"Take your bishop with my castle," Quatre finished. "Check. Now, you only can…"

"Capture your castle with my pawn," Iria answered with a giggle. "Leaving my King defenseless…"

"And, finally, I take your pawn with my Queen," Quatre said as he moved his final play into action. "And…checkmate."

"Well Cat," Iria said as she tipped over her King, using her nickname for her little brother as she laughed in joy at the fun time she had. "Looks like you, unsurprisingly, win again. I have to admit, that was a good play, I didn't even see it until it was too late!"

"That is the point of a good trap," Quatre answered as he set up the pieces again. "How about you, Abu? Wish to play a little bit while we let Iria recover her pride?"

"Ah, no my son," Rabban Winner answered with a laugh. He ruffled his son's blonde hair, so different from his own brown, in an affectionate gesture. "I am afraid that a father's pride does not as easily recover when his son thoroughly beats him at chess, I am still recovering from our last encounter!"

All three shared a laugh, until Iria was seized with a coughing fit. Quatre hurried up to help her towards the fire, despite the murderous looks his other sisters and step-mother were giving him and rubbed comforting circles on her back. Leaving his ill sister with Shaara and Maya, the twins and his other two fully related sisters, Quatre hurried off to grab a threadbare blanket from his own bed, accompanied with her own, to try and provide the ailing girl some warmth. Gripping both pieces of cloth, he caught snatches of an argument between his father and step-mother.

"…only getting worse! You must marry off that…"

"I won't force…another way…in due time…"

"Foolish man! We'll freeze…she'll die within a moon…"

"Leave it be, Une…" his father trailed off. He walked over to where Iria was still coughing something terrible. His grip on the blankets became death-like as Lady Une turned and caught his blue eyes with her hard brown ones. She didn't say anything out loud to him, but he knew what she was thinking…he could feel it in the way she stared at him. He was her ticket out of poverty, a poverty she believed she did not deserve seeing as she married Rabban Winner when he was still quite wealthy and respected, and it was time he, Quatre, start seeing that. The blond held her gaze until she turned away to mutter amidst the older children once more, something he was quite proud of, but the hopelessness filled his eyes when those awful brown eyes were gone.

It was a lose-lose situation right now for him…he might as well pick the option that at least enabled his family some comfort.

He was about to voice this aloud, already apologizing to his mother because he had not waited, had not waited for love as promised, but stopped when the wind outside began to howl furiously. The wind was followed by a thunderous pounding on the cottage door, a sound that made nearly every Winner daughter scream, and hysteria followed quickly. Quatre heard one of his older sisters, Nedena, scream that there was a giant, white beast outside in the storm, and that only inspired more screaming to ensue, this time about how they were all about to become a meal. Quatre seriously doubted that a beast, no matter what its size, was going to be able to eat ALL twenty-nine of his sisters in one sitting, but wisely kept this opinion to himself.

Quatre let everyone get their fear out before asking his father in a calm voice, "Abu, has the beast tried to break down the door?"

"No, he is only pounding on it," Rabban answered his son with a curious inflection in his tone.

"And, is this beast large enough to break down the door if it wanted to?"

"Yes, it is quite large," Rabban answered with a frown forming on his face, now lost in his thoughts and not noticing his youngest child make his way over to the door until the blonde boy was there. "Quatre, what are you--?"

"If the beast is big enough to knock down the door," Quatre explained as a collective gasp was given by his family when he placed his hand on the door knob. "And it hasn't yet I do not think it means any harm. I think it just wants to get out of the storm."

Without waiting for anyone to voice an opposite opinion, Quatre flung the door wide open and stepped aside for the mystery beast to enter. Which it did, a large, white paw coming in first before the rest of the snowy-white body appeared; it lifted its black nose up into the air and gave a big sniff before closing the door behind itself with an equally large hind paw. The beast swiveled its head back around to a face an astonished looking Quatre, nodding as if in thanks before sitting down as a dog would. It was Quatre who recovered first, sensing with that special way of his that this being (for Quatre did not believe beast accurately described this animal anymore) was here for a purpose and not a danger.

"Hello, Sir Bear," Quatre addressed the animal politely with a small smile on his face. "We welcome you into our home…please make yourself comfortable."

The bear answered with a _whuff_ as he ambled over to the fire, sending twenty eight girls and a woman scattering back. Quatre could swear he saw the bear smile with its eyes when his sisters ran away from it, but he shrugged it off and followed the bear, who had elected to sit beside Iria and the fire. After a few minutes of tense silence, the rest of his sisters deemed the bear was not threatening and slowly made their way over to him, which then quickly morphed into them petting the bear and commenting on how pretty it was. Quatre backed away and listened to his father ask politely, albeit a bit nervously, "Sir Bear, might I enquire as to the reason of your visit?"

The bear nodded and gave another _whuff_ as it turned its head around to a pack of supplies on its back and pulled out a piece of parchment. It was a letter, very ornate and sealed in wax with an emblem that looked like a man carrying many sparking firearms about his torso, and the bear held it clutched between its jaws, obviously waiting for someone to grab it. Quatre gave a sigh and took it from the bear, smiling apologetically at the annoyed looking animal, and took it to his father. Rabban opened it and the entire, crowded room of people seemed to get eerily quiet as the patriarch of the poor family began reading the contents.

"'To the heir of the Winner family…'" Rabban began. He took no note of how every female head turned towards a red looking Quatre before swiveling back on him. "'…I am writing to ask for your hand, as you have who has bewitched me mind, body and soul…'"

Now Quatre was definitely red in the face and trying, discreetly, to sink into the far wall of the cottage. He heard his sisters start muttering amongst themselves and he could practically hear Lady Une asking the letter how much this mystery writer was going to give her for her blessing. He heard Iria give a startled gasp and then start giggling at how embarrassed her little brother looked, and his father looked like his dark eyes were about to bulge out of his head any second. Quatre gave the bear a reproachful look, finding the one bearing the letter the only scapegoat at the time, but turned his face away when the bear just leveled him with look.

"Uh, '…I am prepared to pay a monthly stipend for the welfare of your family should you accept my proposal, one that will assure that they live out the rest of their days in modest luxury, and understand that it may take time for the you to give a reply. I present you with this Bear, a trusted friend of mine who knows me better than most, and he will wait until a decision has been made. If I am declined, then he will give you a payment for your troubles of housing him, but if I am accepted, he will you deep into the Fey woods and beyond where my Kingdom dwells…'"

"The Fey forest?!" Iria blurted out, unable to keep her disapproval from her stormy blue eyes. "Father, you cannot possibly be considering this?! Those forests are haunted and--"

"Quiet Iria!" Lady Une snapped. Her brown eyes were full of greed as she rested her eyes on an ever cringing Quatre before focusing on the ill girl again. "Let your father finish!"

"Where was I…'…where my Kingdom dwells. I await your response and hope that I may hear from you soon. Sincerely, Prince Trowa of the Tria Colonies.'" Rabban dropped the letter from his view and stared at his mortified looking son, at a lost for words until nearly every sister began arguing that it wasn't fair that the youngest be married first. To a prince no doubt! Shaara and Maya, who were closest to their younger brother after Iria, tried to calm the others, but to no avail; then, Lady Une spoke aloud.

"Quiet, all of you!" She snapped, drawing even the bear's somewhat detached expression to attention. "You are all arguing as if any of you have any choice in the matter! The choice is up to your father and I, and I say if this union lets all of us live a better life than what we have now, then we agree to this prince's proposal!" Many sisters began agreeing with their step-mother, finding logic in her solution…with the money this prince was offering, they would no be able to afford dowries and marry off themselves!

"What are you talking about?" Iria yelled hoarsely. She rose to her feet, shaking with rage instead of sickness for once. "It's not anyone's decision but Quatre's! Father, tell them! They can't force Quatre into this!" She was forced to stop her tirade very early due to a coughing fit that had overtaken her again. Lady Une narrowed her dark eyes in a calculating manner before speaking aloud again.

"If you do this Quatre, we can provide for your sister's health once more!" Her voice was smooth and confident, as if she knew no matter how stubborn her step-son was this would convince him. "We'll be able to provide for her in a way never thought possible, and your sisters can finally be married! Don't you want to see them happy? Will you doom us to a life of poverty?"

Lady Une was cut off by a low and angry growl as the Bear narrowed his dark eyes on the woman threateningly, getting to his feet and causing the sisters to cry out in fear once more. With one last growl at the offending family, the Bear turned his head to look over at the still motionless boy, seeming to ask for his own answer and not that of his family's. Quatre lifted his blue eyes to that of the Bear and asked quietly, "May I have a week to decide, Sir Bear, before I give you an answer? Please?"

The Bear nodded his head with another _whuff_ and glared at the family, as if daring any to contradict the boy's request. None said a word, and none were spoken when Quatre carried Iria out of the front room and back into the bedrooms, eyes curiously focused on the air before him. The Bear gave a content grunt as he curled down on the rug before the extinguished fire to sleep, paying no mind to arguing whispers that filled the room until late in the night.

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A week passed with no other event, and it seemed as if Quatre had still not decided on what his answer would be, much to his step-mother's dismay. She continued to hiss that he would ruin any chance of saving his sisters from a life of destitution and that he owed it to her to go and marry this prince. He wouldn't answer her.

So, it was on the seventh day's dusk that Quatre made his way out to his boulder and tried to clear his head of everything that could influence his decision. It didn't work though, he realized it after about two minutes, but it wasn't until after nearly an hour that he just let out a strangled yell to the darkening skies in frustration. The frustration quickly melted into despair and the boy slumped down the side of the rock and just sat there, dead to the world. It was only when he heard the familiar sound of paw steps that he looked up and was met with the Bear's face. The animal was regarding the blond boy with what appeared to be concern, curiosity, and…sadness?

"Bear," Quatre said softly as he looked into the bear's dark eyes. "I'm sorry, but I still don't know what I should do. I want to help my family, I really do…I was going to accept another proposal from a Lord in the village that very night you came in order to help them! But…if I go with you, even though I'll help them for longer and Iria will be able to see an actual Healer, I'll never see them again, will I? And, I don't even know this prince of yours! How can he feel all what he wrote in the letter without ever meeting me?"

The Bear looked at him softly, his eyes saying, _I know him, and believe me, it truth all what he feel for you. _Quatre shrugged half-heartedly, but and he looked away from the Bear and towards the sky. "I promised my mother when I was a boy that I would marry someone I truly love, not for money or for power as so many people do nowadays. She loved my father very much, and I…I wanted that feeling. I knew if I accepted Lord Kushrenada's proposal, I would give that up, but I would still have the love of my family nearby…if I accept your prince's, will I even be left with that?"

The Bear let out a _whuff_ of agreement and sat down beside the despairing boy to try and comfort him it seemed. Quatre rested his head against the Bear's soft, fluffy fur and asked quietly, "You really think your prince spoke truly in his letter, Bear?"

The Bear let out a vehement _whuff._

"And…and do you think I can feel the same way after time, even though I have never met him?"

Quatre saw the conflict within the Bear as he attempted to answer the question, and wondered if all animals from within the Fey were this intelligent and loyal to their masters, before getting a good look at the Bear's face. He had dark eyes, Quatre knew this, but as close as he was he could see their pigment; an amazing forest green that put emeralds to shame. Quatre, without really knowing why he was doing it, reached out with his 'gift' and felt what the Bear felt…it was a true belief that Quatre would feel what this Prince Trowa felt after time…almost like a determination. Quatre smiled at the Bear, his mind made up, though a part of him still loathed the decision.

"Come, Bear," Quatre said. He pushed himself to his feet and rested his left hand on the Bear's back. "I have made my choice and must tell my family…I just hope that Iria doesn't hate me for this." The Bear shot Quatre a look that seemed to reassure the thought that his sister would understand, but remained silent the entire way back to the cottage. Quatre amusedly thought that this is what a prisoner sentenced to death might feel like…this horrible sensation that you had missed out on so much in life and now were never going to experience it.

He walked into his home with his head held high, even though inside he felt like screaming, and kept his expression calm while every head, including that of Lady Une, pivoted around to look at him. He gave Iria a small, defeated smile and ignored her shaking head as he opened his mouth and voiced his decision. "I've decided to accept the proposal from Prince Trowa…it's the best way I can help Iria and all the rest of you. Sir Bear, of you would be so kind as to give me a few moments to say my farewells and then I will be ready to go."

He heard protests from about half of his sisters and 'thank yous' from the other half, but tried to tune them out. The Bear nodded and reached back, pulling down a bundle off his back with his teeth, dropping it to the floor in front of Quatre…obviously indicating that whatever was in the pack was for him. The blond boy curiously peeked inside as he felt the Bear's massive paw push him into one of the bedrooms, finding what looked like traveling clothes inside, along with other various tools for a long journey. Sighing, he quickly pulled off his current clothing and changed into the garments given to him by the Bear, only briefly wondering how someone from the prince's palace had been able to get his measurements.

The pants were soft and flexible leather, dark brown with the same color stitching, and Quatre tucked the ends into the durable riding boots he had received. He slipped on the tunic and jerkin next, both a dark blue that were darker than the teal color of his eyes, and next the dark brown riding gloves. There was a cape in the pack as well, a marvelously crafted piece that was the color of the sky with white stitching all across that depicted a journey across a desert, but Quatre opted to fasten that once outside and away from the cottage. He looked up at himself in the dingy mirror and tried to shove down the feeling of dread that he was met with…he looked like some little lordling in all these clothes.

When he walked back out, he was met with many compliments from his sisters at how handsome and grown up he looked…maybe getting away from the baby treatment was a positive sign in all of this. He said goodbye to each and every sister, paying extra attention to Shaara and Maya before leaving off with Iria. She was seated by their father, looking like everything was her fault…the expression didn't look good on her face.

"It's my own choice, Iria," Quatre said softly. She took his hands in her own shaking ones. A lone tear had escaped one of her blue eyes and she looked like she wanted to either throttle her little brother or hug him senseless. She opted for the latter and squeezed the blond to her with all the strength her weak body had.

"I'm going to miss you so much, Cat," Iria murmured into his hair and let him pull out of the hug after a few minutes. "I don't want you to feel as if you have to do this…I don't need a Healer, baby brother, don't do this just because Une…"

"I'm not, Iria," Quatre said, only halfway feeling it inside…he hated lying but a little white lie wasn't going to hurt anyone. "Besides, we both know something like this would have happened eventually…it was just a matter of whom and when. I want you to be happy Iria…be happy, get healthy, and find someone you love…one of us as to keep our promise to Mother, right?" He said the last part as a joke, but that didn't mean it didn't sting inside. He pressed a kiss to her temple, one which she returned on his forehead and murmured, "I love you, big sister," before turning away to meet his father and step-mother.

Quatre spared no words for Lady Une, to which her only response was a cruel and triumphant smirk before sweeping back towards the rest for the family. Rabban stared at his son for a moment before embracing the blonde and whispering, "I'm sorry, my child." He turned away before he lost the composure Quatre felt was slipping. He didn't look back as he walked out of the cottage, it would have been harder that way, and kept the calm face in place until he heard the door close behind him.

He looked down to the gently snow-covered ground, the first of the year and a bit early, clutching the satchel in his hand tighter as he felt something warm drip down his cheek. He turned back for a brief moment and whispered, "Wadaarhan," to the house and family he had known all his life before wiping away the tear and turning his back on the cottage once more.

It was useless to get upset about it now; he repeated that mantra to himself as he steeled his gaze and looked back up, finding the Bear looking at him intently. "Well, Sir Bear," Quatre said with a sad smile as he placed a hand on the Bear's back. "I suppose we should be off…thank you for waiting."

The Bear let out a soft _whuff_ as he helped the blond boy climb on top his back; it seemed he didn't mind waiting. Quatre took a moment to get adjusted properly on the Bear; he had ridden horses when he was little, but the Bear had slippery fur and it was hard to keep balance. Once situated, the Bear took off at a steady pace, getting farther and farther away from the house and closer to the Fey Woods, where inside somewhere a prince was waiting for them both. Quatre spared one last glance at his childhood home before the Bear entered the woods, praying to Allah that the feeling of dread he had would dissipate soon.

One chapter of his life had ended, and it seemed another was beginning…Quatre just hoped that the next chapter wouldn't end sooner than the first…

TBC…

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Edited chapter for structure, clarity, and grammar. Enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

Candlelight (2/?)

Author: Osco

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xS

Rating: R

Warnings: Lemony goodness, violence, language, magical happenings, and ugly Trolls trying to ruin the story!

Summary: Retelling of the fairy tale, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" GW style. What if you made a mistake? What if the person you loved had to pay the price? How far would you go to save him? How about a place that can't exist?

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I am but a poor college student who has no hold over the characters whatsoever and is doing this as a pastime.

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**Chapter Two: **_**Journey through the Fey**_

To say that the first few days of his journey through the supposed 'dread' Fey forest was uneventful, would have been largely under exaggerated, Quatre mused silently on the morning of the third day of travel. The blond supposed a large part of the monotony of the trip was based on his traveling partner's inability to speak, but he was beginning to think that there was nothing of interest at all in the forest that separated mortals from the Others. Every day's routine was the same as well: wake up and eat breakfast, ride on the bear until noon and eat once more, ride until dusk and have supper, and make camp for the night. There were various stops here and there for bodily needs and stretching, but it was not enough to break the blond out of the despondent mood the monotony was breeding within his heart. The only things Quatre could really focus on, beside his family, were that their food seemed to be running out and he really wanted to get clean.

Quatre rolled up the pack he used to sleep on, in congruence with the fluffy Bear pillow he was allowed to use, and got ready for another boring day of travel, giving the white Bear a wan smile when the animal checked to see if he was ready. He mounted the Bear once again and let the guide head off in the direction where his new home was to be. He didn't take as much time to balance himself now, somewhat used to the awkward style of riding a Bear and the surprisingly fast pace the large animal kept. The Bear headed west for a few hours before the sound of water broke Quatre from the reverie that grabbed hold of him while riding…water meant that he could actually wipe away the dirt he felt was overtaking his body! His family may have been poor, but damnit they were hygienic!

"Bear!" Quatre called out softly. He smiled in genuine at the surprised look that crossed the Bear's face before he adopted a neutral look once more. Quatre blushed slightly at the look, feeling apologetic that he had been such a sullen companion, but brushed the feeling aside at the prospect of something different to do today. "I think I heard water a few paces back and to the left…could we stop so I can wash the dirt off quickly?"

The Bear's expression seemed to ask why he needed to do that…it was only him and the Bear after all. Quatre laughed aloud and patted the white animal on the head before answering the unspoken question. "It may be that only you and I are traveling now, but I don't think your prince would like to meet me when I'm covered in dirt and smell as if I've been rolling around in the stables! Wouldn't be the best impression, would it? What if he was to send me back, unable to breath at the smell of someone who as not bathed for days, and then you would have wasted the entire trip, Bear?"

The Bear leveled the blonde with his green eyes, clearly believing that would never happen, and Quatre found himself laughing again. "You seem to have faith in both Prince Trowa's lack of smell and my ability to fend it off, but it still would be wise to look a little presentable. Please, Bear?"

Quatre let his eyes go wide and pleading as he frowned his bottom lip; he even let his soft, gold bangs dangle in front of his eyes to complete the effect. Iria had taught him how to do this when he was a young boy, as a way to get his father's attention or get out of trouble, and he had yet to meet anyone either he or his sister could not bend to their will…and it seemed it did not matter whether it was man or beast. The Bear shook its head and ambled off towards the small brook he had passed earlier, smiling in a bear-like way at his passenger's grateful proclamations. He let Quatre slipped off his back, and let the boy hug him before darting off to wash up, stripping his tunic and jerkin as he went; the Bear turned around and began to look anywhere but his companion as a distinctive splash was heard.

It felt like heaven, Quatre decided as he submerged fully in the warm water…strange for the water to be warm in the beginning of winter, but he had not noticed it until now. The entire trip, beside the first night, Quatre had not needed to wear the cloak, save for at night, and as he craned his head around he noticed for the first time that it seemed to be spring here. Quatre thought that maybe this was part of the magic of the Fey woods, magic he had missed because it was not obvious, and smiled at his own arrogance. Ducking his head one final time, satisfied that he no longer smelled of travel, Quatre heaved himself out of the small brook and dried off before putting his riding clothes back on. His air was still damp by the time he and the Bear set off again, but at least he was clean.

Quatre was more aware the rest of the day, looking everywhere and taking in everything as if it was something new and exciting because, as he had discovered today, to him it all was. He was determined to not let himself sulk anymore. He talked aloud to the Bear, earning a few grunts or _whuffs_ out of him when he asked a question, but in general just talking to keep himself occupied. He talked from his childhood to the first person he had ever kissed, a subject that earned a growl of annoyance from the Bear. Quatre laughed and petted the Bear's head before talking about his pastimes…assuring the Bear that his prince had no worries. He could feel a bond forming between himself and the intelligent animal as he made his camp after his evening meal, and it helped to know that at least he would have one friend at his new home.

Quatre was leaning back into the Bear as the final dredges of daylight vanished and the stars took over when he had his first encounter with a Fey creature that night…a small, spotted feline that was shimmering in and out of eyesight. Quatre gasped in both alarm and excitement when the wee cat focused its glowing eyes on him and sniffed the proffered hand the bear had nudged out with his muzzle. The cat let out a mewl before bounding off into the night, leaving Quatre to wonder what it was he had just seen.

"Wow…" he whispered as a grin spread over his face. He turned his head in the direction of the feline's path and then back at the Bear's unsurprised face. "They don't seem much like monsters close up, do they?" Quatre trailed off as he felt the exhaustion of the day's travel catch up with him and sleep over take his senses. Before his eyelids closed though, he thought he saw a flash of colors and giggling…but he was sure that it was just his imagination.

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When Quatre awoke the next morning, his fourth day of existence as the betrothed of an unknown prince, he discovered that he had been mistaken when he dismissed the lights and giggles for a dream. Before him, all laid out in a neat array, was a breakfast of toast, oranges, berries, and honey…there was even what looked like a few rabbits for the Bear. He glanced around, trying to find someone to thank or spot for the deed, but finding no one, he shared a grin with the Bear and ate the gift with a hunger he did know he had. The Bear had finished his meal in all but a few minutes, and took to watching Quatre eat his toast with a longing that he saw when a stray dog begged for scraps. He laughed and let the Bear finish half of his eaten orange, admonishing him lightly for eating his food to fast.

They took off as soon as they were finished, and Quatre thought he spotted the colored lights once more before he and the Bear rounded a corner…how could anyone back home fear this place? Quatre enjoyed the rest of the day, asking the Bear simple questions now and then; it was a comfort to know that they were only another two days until they entered the kingdom of Tria Colonies, the Bear having made the journey with a speed that astounded Quatre. He thought about the Tria Colonies once more, such a strange name for a kingdom. His own homeland was called Araaban, and was ruled over by the Sultan's family since before it was written…Quatre wondered briefly if there were more kingdoms deep within the Fey lands as he watched a swarm of crimson butterflies fly above.

"Bear," Quatre began. The sun was beginning to set, casting a deep russet light over the landscape and playing with the gold of his hair. "I'd like to know a bit about this Prince Trowa you are so loyal to…obviously, you cannot answer in depth but could you just reply _whuff _for yes or growl for no to my questions?"

The Bear did naught for a moment, just continued walking forward, and Quatre desperately wished he could see the white face he had grown so accustomed to. Then, the head bobbed in an unmistakable nod and Quatre grinned…it was about time he found out some information about this prince who was so 'bewitched' by him.

"All right," Quatre began pensively. "Does the prince have any siblings?"

_Whuff._

"As many as me?"

Growl…insistent growl.

"Okay," Quatre laughed, somewhat happy that he wouldn't have to impress twenty-nine of this monarch's relatives. "Does he enjoy the outdoors?"

_Whuff._

"Is he, in your opinion, a kind man?"

There was a pause and then a grunt.

"You don't know?" Quatre asked amusedly. "Or perhaps you don't believe it is your right to say yes or no. Then never mind that one…does he enjoy music?"

_Whuff._

"Does he like being a prince?"

Growl…how odd.

"He doesn't?" Quatre murmured to himself. "I wonder why…do you know why Bear?"

The Bear didn't answer, just kept on walking. He stopped suddenly and raised his nose in the air…Quatre could feel the muscles in his back tense suddenly and then the fur began to rise. He could sense anger from the Bear; he was furious at something and Quatre could also sense a small amount of fear…but what did a Bear as large as he have to fear in a forest? Quatre slid off the Bear when the growl turned into one of warning, his huge teeth bared and claws ready to maul anyone who got to near. Quatre opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but the words turned into a strangled gasp as pain seemed to flood his senses, causing him to buckle over.

He was dimly aware of the Bear letting loose an ear-splitting roar at whatever was attacking them, but it was dwarfed by the intense hate he felt washing over him. It was like he couldn't even breathe; a suffocating mass settled over him and was quickly sucking away his energy. He had never felt such a horrible, or overbearing, combination of feelings before, this hatred coupled with anger, sinful greed, and lust…who could feel all these emotions to such an extent at once? He retched as a hideous smell accompanied the negative emotions, emptying his stomach of the meal of fowl he and the Bear had eaten for lunch. He swiftly called up the blocks he had worked on since he was a boy…praying that it at least blocked out a little of what was incoming. It worked enough for his head to clear and the pounding to become nothing more than an ache, and Quatre lifted his head to see who was attacking him and the Bear.

What he saw in front of the Bear was something out of a nightmare…a real monster from the bed time stories as a child. It was hideously huge, standing at least ten feet high and flexing a pair of leathery wings from its scaly green back. Dark black hair, streaked with white, adorned its head and cascaded past its shoulders in wild disarray, hanging greasy like it had never been washed before. The thing had talons too…grimy talons that looked like it would cut like a dull knife, and while its face was vaguely reminiscent of a human, the soulless black eyes erased any of that illusion. It was dressed in dark animal hides and encircled by what looked like miniature versions of itself…what the hell kind of nightmare had he woke up in?

Quatre's ocean-hued eyes widened as he saw the thing look at him, not liking that smirk that covered its face one bit. The thing took a step forward, one which Quatre found himself echoing backwards despite himself, but was stopped when an enraged sounding and looking Bear impeded its path. The Bear let loose a roar of such magnitude that Quatre yelled out in surprise, and was not a bit amazed to see the monster's face contort even uglier as he glared at the Bear.

"You are bold as ever, Bear," the monster sneered, putting stress on the pronoun which caused the white beast to growl low. "I believe it is that very boldness that put you in your current situation eh? You insult me, King Dermail, ruler of all Trolls, by not offering up your tasty looking companion…and I remember how you spurned my grand-daughter!

Quatre had no idea what was going on, but he caught the part where this monster, this Troll, talked about how he looked tasty and that did nothing to ease his nerves. The Bear, his companion and friend, apparently had some sort of trouble with this Troll and now their lives were in danger because he apparently looked good enough to eat. For what seemed like the hundredth time since he turned fifteen, Quatre wished he had been born with his sister Zrraa's hairstyle and his Uncle Omar's nose…then he and the Bear wouldn't be in this problem if he looked like that. He turned his attention back towards the confrontation before him, and it seemed like the Bear was agreeing to speak with this troll…and the Troll in return had guaranteed to leave Quatre alone until they returned.

Yeah, like he was going to trust that from something that wanted to eat him.

The Bear cast a defeated look at Quatre, the blond nearly felt his heart break at the sight, before fading out of sight with this King Dermail…and he was left with the smaller looking monsters. Quatre looked out over at them as they leered at him, some in a hungry-eating way and some in a hungry-lustful way, gazing at him as if he stood no threat. He narrowed his eyes at the monsters, somewhat annoyed again at his looks, and backed into a defensive position. He was young, not incompetent, and his uncle Hamir had been sure that Quatre knew how to defend himself should the situation arise. He may not have the shotels or scimitars he had been trained with since he was ten (despite his father's wishes) and he was going to be damned if he let the Bear, the only friend he had, face off with that Troll by himself.

A flash of light appeared in the direction the Bear had gone off to, and Quatre thought he heard the remnants of a frustrated, very human, cry, but he pushed it from his mind. The monsters were distracted by the light, big surprise that they didn't seem to like it, and the blond used the opportunity to roll to the side and pick up a large tree branch he had spotted earlier. By the time the monstrosities were focusing on their supposed prey, Quatre had already bashed two and render them useless with a speed that made up for his lack of strength. Uncle Hamir had always taught him to use what nature had given him to make up what he lacked…he would never be as strong as most of the warriors he saw in town or heard about in stories because of his slight build, but he was able to strategize a way to bring his opponents down quickly that sometimes bordered on a pre-cognitive level. He used his 'gift' and the rest he envisioned as a game of chess; he'd teach these little cretins a lesson for underestimating him.

_These monsters are no different than Uncle H or anyone else _Quatre thought grimly as they all pulled out their own grisly looking weapons, sneering at the stick he held in his hands. He separated the eight remaining fiends into groups, and back into a thicket that only allowed room for one at a time…if they were stupid, and he was fairly sure they were. They all rushed at him foolishly, as predicted, and Quatre raised his bough into a defensive position…but the little things never made it to the thicket.

A band of bluish-black wolves bounded into the fray, followed shortly by a small band of what looked like men, led by one who looked no older than himself. Quatre lowered the stick and watched in amazement as the warrior fought off the monsters like one does a swarm of gnats…they were all dead in less than a minute. The blond stepped out from the thicket fully in time to hear a hellish scream of rage and then a swirl of black wind…then he felt the dripping blade against his throat.

"State your name, stranger," a husky, cold voice demanded, locking intense cobalt eyes with blue-green ones. Quatre opened his mouth to speak when a roar bellowed into the clearing, followed by the white Bear who was glaring coldly at the warrior. The young man shrugged his shoulders and dropped the sword to his side, glancing between the Bear and Quatre, still clearly wanting an answer.

"My name's Quatre Winner," the blond stated in a rush. Not appreciating having been held at sword-point, he wanted to get this guy off his back so he could see if the Bear was injured. "I'm grateful for your help sir, but I need to see if my Bear is all right!"

"Your Bear?" the brown-haired boy asked. He showed little surprise at the endearment on his expressionless face. "Perhaps you should tell me what you're doing here, deep in the Fey woods, and why I should trust you?"

The Bear growled in annoyance again, but the warrior ignored him, clearly not afraid of massive bear and focused instead on Quatre. The blond began to relate his tale as best he could, trying to keep his blocks up at the same time because he was starting to feel light-headed from all the emotions left over in the air and still somewhat rattled from the whole night. "…so, I am to be wed to Prince Trowa and he sent this Bear to guide me to his kingdom. I don't know why that Troll king attacked, but I am grateful that you arrived to help, otherwise Bear here could have been in great danger."

"So," the warrior, whose name Quatre still did not know, glancing over at the Bear with a half smirk before focusing back on the blonde. "You're the pretty farm boy he can't stop talking about…"

Quatre felt his face heat up at the comment, and before he could think better of it, his frustration and exhaustion let this unknown man who was insulting him have it. "I don't know if 'farm boy' would be appropriate, but I am who he has apparently been spying on for who knows how long! I don't know who you think you are treating Bear here with such a cold manner; he obviously is trying to tell you that I'm not some kind of threat or anything! If you aren't going to help check if the Bear as any injuries, and just keep on insulting me all day long, go right ahead, but get out of my way!" He practically hissed out the last part…he would probably feel guilty about this later but right now he was just mad. It was bad enough this prince had been spying on him…he talked to others about him!

A few moments of tense silence filled the air before the warrior stepped aside to let Quatre pass, smirking at the now dazed look the blond had on his face. Quatre hurried past and began fussing over the Bear, not noticing the pointed look the young man was giving the bear, stepping back only when he was satisfied there was nothing where it shouldn't be and nothing missing. He smiled gratefully at the warrior and said somewhat apologetically, "I'm sorry for snapping…it hasn't really been the best night so far. I uh, I assume you know Prince Trowa…I, this probably didn't across as a good impression or any--"

"Heero Yuy," the brown-haired man interrupted as he made a gesture with his hands in front of him…like a greeting. He still didn't smile, but by this time Quatre figured that was just part of his personality, but the blond had the vague feeling he had just passed some sort of test, which annoyed him but he squashed the feeling down. "And yes, I know Trowa…I suppose you could call him a friend. Probably one of the few monarchs I respect…his kingdom is neighbor to my own."

"Your own?" Quatre asked sheepishly. Great, he had been in the Fey for less than two weeks and he had already gotten attacked by monsters and insulted prince…this was just getting better and better. "I'm so sorry…I suppose I should call you your High--"

"I told you my name," Heero interrupted with a glare at the smaller boy. "Call me that…besides, if you're marrying Trowa then you're practically royalty anyway. You look tired, you should probably rest." He made a motion to his small troop of men and they each began setting up various structures or something else productive…the wolves seemed to want to get to know the unusual blond boy. Quatre tried to protest his tiredness, but the Bear knocked into him from behind, knocking his legs out and forcing him to collapse against the furry mass. The blond turned around and muttered "traitor" before smiling quickly and hugging his protector. It seemed silly to call his friend that, but that's what he had done…and he was thankful.

Quatre was able to get Heero to talk a little bit before being forced to sleep…the infamous Winner pout winning out again even against a most formidable foe. Apparently, there were quite a few different lands in the Fey itself…and quite a lot of races as well. The demesnes that Princes Heero and Trowa ruled over were a set of kingdoms that were all closely linked with one another. There were five of them, respectively, but only three really had ruling families. The royal family of the Quinque Colonies had long since abdicated their thrones and now served various other royal houses as teachers. The royal house of the Quattuon Colonies had disappeared some years ago, most thought by magic because they had always been one of the most powerful houses, and only their wandering, nomadic people were left. The Sanq Colonies was ruled by the Peacecraft family, and Heero himself presided over the Sive Colonies.

Once or twice, it seemed like Heero would be about to reveal something, something that Quatre felt was infinitely important, but would always catch himself before he said anything…and then Quatre would feel a profound sadness in the air that almost made him burst into tears. Quatre asked a few questions about Prince Trowa, but he didn't learn anything he didn't already know from his conversations with the Bear…it was starting to grate on his nerves that everyone seemed to want to keep him in the dark.

"When you started to fight the goblins," Heero began, referring to the smaller monsters from earlier. "You moved with a speed that was highly improbable given your height and skill. You moved as if you already knew what was coming…I'd like it if you explained just how you did that, and if it has anything to do with how tired and distressed you look now."

Quatre was at a loss for words at first…he thought he had been hiding his unease at so many flying emotions well…but apparently there was more to this Prince Heero than met the eye. Taking a shaky, unsure breath Quatre began. "Well…I sort of have this ability. I've had it ever since I was a small child…and my father used to tell me my mother could do it as well. I can…I can feel what others feel sometimes, their emotions I mean. When I focus hard enough, those emotions coupled with the formulas my mind provides, I can usually make very educated guesses on what an enemy is going to do before they actually do it. It's not reading minds…I just…I don't really know what it is."

"And you are in discomfort now because you can feel everything we feel?" Heero asked with a commanding tone, eyes betraying the slight amount of worry he had for…someone here.

"Not really," Quatre answered honestly with a shrug, focusing his eyes on the other's dark ones. "I was tired before when that Troll king showed up…his emotions hit me when I was unprepared and it weakened my defenses." Quatre turned and looked at the Bear for a moment and said to him, "That's why I fell down when they first showed up…and why I was worried about you. He had so much hatred for you, Bear…it was suffocating! I felt like I was drowning…I've never been that receptive with my ability before…"

"Probably the magic of Fey," Heero declared as he crossed his arms over his chest, looking contemplative into nothing. "So, now you're just tired and picking up an echo of what everyone here is feeling…" He really didn't ask, he just knew.

"Yes," Quatre replied with a hopeful smile on his face. "Do you know what this gift of mine is? Are there others who have it here?"

"You're an Empath," Heero responded, no emotion entering his cold voice as he looked past Quatre to the Bear. "And, no, it's not something that's very common, even in the Fey. I wonder how a mortal line could have received the gift…your blocks should be replenished once you get some rest. You should sleep now…my men and I will accompany you and the Bear the rest of the way to Prince Trowa's kingdom to make sure you arrive there safely."

Heero rose and left before Quatre could say anything else, so he decided to glare reproachfully at the wolves the cold prince had left there with the blond. He gave up as soon as they all curled up with him, judging him to be an honorable pup already according to one of Heero's soldiers, and before Quatre could even stop himself, he was fast asleep. So asleep that he didn't notice someone get up and leave for an hour or so.

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"You can't tell me you already know him so well, can you?"

"…"

"Hn…that's two curses your up too now …was it worth it?"

"…"

"You could have stayed in the other form for this conversation if that's all you're going to say."

"…yes…it was worth it. A solution will be found to this problem…"

"Problems, and everybody said that about the Quattuons too. I haven't seen that one solved yet."

"I'm not going to change my mind …my sister and I can work past this…"

"I'm sure you will…but, he doesn't seem very happy about the situation …do you really think you can get this boy to love you?"

"…"

"Hn."

"I will not force him if that's what you're asking…but I will not give up like you have. You call me your friend Heero…be my friend now."

"…"

"…"

"I hope you know what you're doing here 03…I will not attend a wedding between you and a Troll…"

"I hope you never have too…"

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Quatre woke up the next morning feeling completely refreshed and ready to tackle the day. It was unusual, he was never a morning person but for some reason today he just had a sense of peace settle of him. He smiled at the Bear, who was still sleeping beside him, and got up to go and bathe in a nearby brook one of the soldiers pointed him towards. When he returned, everyone seemed to be and packing to head out, so he jumped in to help, knowing he was probably annoying Heero with the smile on his face. He could feel a faint echo of emotions, and Quatre was beginning to think it was the wolves. He could feel the Bear's emotions after all sometimes…something he never thought possible until recently. Until now it had only ever picked up other people's emotion, not animals, but maybe the animals in the Fey were different, they certainly seemed so.

The last few days of their journey were uneventful, much like the first few, but after having a taste of danger, Quatre found that he preferred boredom any day. The bit of excitement they got was a tribe, of what Heero informed him were, Star Fairies lighting their way into what, informed by Heero again, was Tria Colonies' borders. They were pretty little things, about as big as a butterfly with wide pupil-less eyes, and some played in Quatre's blonde hair before flitting away. Quatre smiled at Heero, who stared at the fairies with annoyance as they sat on the tip of his hunter's hat.

"So," Quatre began as the entered the dark lands of the mysterious Prince Trowa, all the nervousness he had forced away the past few days coming back in full force as they traveled closer to their destination. "Is Prince Trowa a nice man?" He was scared, and he knew Heero would sense it in that way of his, but he didn't care. He wanted some sort of reassurance that he hadn't completely doomed his life…Heero's stark silence didn't help.

"You should really just discover for yourself when you meet him," Heero answered after another few minutes, gazing solidly at the fidgeting boy. "I know he wouldn't want you to think something of him and then discover it not to be true. You should make up your own mind…you're the one who has to marry him after all."

Quatre tried to keep the sadness off his face at the words, knowing that Heero hadn't meant any harm really, but it just sounded so cold. Like he had no free will anymore…and hadn't really once he had accepted this proposal. He gave a tired sigh and forced a smile into place as he turned away from Heero's gaze…he was so tired of this uncertainty. "I suppose you're right, Prince Heero. But…do you think he might send the Bear away? I have grown rather used to his company and--"

"Trowa won't send the bear away," Heero answered with a smirk, as if it was a private joke that Quatre was not a part of. "Don't worry about that…but you probably won't see him as much."

"Oh." Quatre replied softly, fixing his brilliant eyes on the distant villages and manors in the distance. It seemed it was time for him to face his destiny, for good or ill, and he'd face it with his head held high. He was a son of Rabban Winner of the Araaban people…he did not cringe away from challenges in life. He would fulfill his end of the bargain, and he wouldn't pity himself anymore. He just hoped that this Prince Trowa knew what he was doing when he proposed to an Araabanian…

TBC…

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Edited chapter for structure, clarity, and grammar. Enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

Candlelight (3/?)

Author: Osco

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xS

Rating: R

Warnings: Lemony goodness, violence, language, magical happenings, and ugly Trolls trying to ruin the story!

Summary: Retelling of the fairy tale, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" GW style. What if you made a mistake? What if the person you loved had to pay the price? How far would you go to save him? How about a place that can't exist?

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I am but a poor college student who has no hold over the characters whatsoever and is doing this as a pastime.

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**Chapter Three: **_**Arrivals and Meetings**_

The sun had completely vanished from the sky by the time Quatre, flanked on all sides by Prince Heero's small band of soldiers, had exited the outer lands of the Tria Colonies; it was much too dark to take in most of the scenery, but the blond suspected it was very green. There were a few villages on the outer rim of the kingdom, and Quatre learned by one of the soldiers, a man named Bram, that the Tria Manor was only another few miles into the country. Quatre looked around at the hilly, forest covered landscape, punctuated by rolling grasslands whenever the band neared a town, and marveled at how much vegetation there seemed to be here…his homelands were rather sparse; all of the nature was a novelty to him. He kept silent for another hour, the stars and Star Fairies lighting the way through the forests through the darkness, until the trees seemed to end and a vast town was placed in front of them. It wasn't the town though that made Quatre inhale in…it was the huge manor that loomed ahead on the top of a grassy knoll and surrounded by flowering trees.

"Welcome to Tria Manor," Heero said in his monotone voice. Per usual, he betrayed nothing on his face as they walked through town, earning looks from some families from their bedroom windows. Quatre felt awkward as some of the young children waved at him, but he waved back with a smile to be polite, ignoring the unmistakable grunting amusement coming from the Bear. It only took another candle mark or so to reach the gates of the Manor, and Heero signaled his men to stop, riding ahead alone with Quatre and the Bear.

"Are you going to tell the Prince what happened?" Quatre asked in what he hoped was a calm voice. He fixed the silent prince with an inquisitive look as he glanced between him and the manor. "I mean, he said in the letter that the Bear is his friend and a loyal servant…plus, I don't suppose Troll kings showing up in the Colony kingdoms is all that common…"

"I have nothing to speak with the Prince about," Heero responded coldly, earning an annoyed look from both Quatre and the Bear. "I am sure he is already aware of the attack since it occurred so close to his boundaries…and you can fill him in on the details if he asks you to. I have matters of my own to attend to and I will be taking care of those after I fulfill my promise to see you and the Bear here safely."

Quatre said nothing, opting to bite the inside of his cheek to keep in the retort he longed to throw at the emotionless prince as an act of self-perseverance. He was just a poor merchant's son after all…it was surprising that he wasn't getting made into a slave. Quatre smiled humorlessly at the thought; slavery could just be a synonym for the fancy name of 'consort' as they reached the base of the stairs leading up to the grand entrance. Heero stopped again, and Quatre took it as a signal to dismount off the Bear in one fluid slide, looking up the stairs with a strange sense of detachment…he'd take it over the jumpy nervousness he had felt up until now. He rested a hand on the Bear's back and began to follow the Bear's lead up the stairs when the Sive Colonies' prince called out his name, causing him to turn his blue eyes toward the dark figure.

"Just follow your emotions, Quatre," Heero said after studying the blond for a moment, speaking with a rare inflection of admiration in his voice. "I think you'll be good for Trowa…you trust your heart. I'm sure we'll meet again." Without another word, the brown haired, dark blue eyed boy walked back down to where his troops waited, leaving Quatre with a confused blush on his face. That guy sure seemed out there sometimes.

"Well, that was strange," Quatre said to himself. He turned his gaze towards the Bear after the prince could be seen running with his soldiers and wolves again. He followed the Bear up the stairs again when he felt the fur under his hand shift, clutching the fur a bit too tight as he climbed up the steps. The Bear let out a grunt when Quatre began to almost rip the fur out, to which the blond immediately countered, "Bear, I am about to head into the house where a prince lives, who I'm supposed to marry, with grass in my hair and dirt all over my clothing, no idea of customs or propriety, and to top it all off, I haven't even met the man. Please forgive me, but I don't believe I am able to release my grip on your fur for the next few minutes…you'd rather that than the hysterical, babbling fool who will most likely trip when we reach the landing."

The Bear let out a _whuff_ to let Quatre know he was forgiven, and perhaps to have him calm down, and just continued on. When they did reach the doorway, which was open and filled with various household staff, the bear began to shift out of the way, but the blond's grip seemed to tighten as a man with gray hair and a nose covering approached the pair…his eyes looked kind, but Quatre was having awful visions of what was underneath the covering and none were all that pretty. The man smiled and reached over to pry Quatre's hand off the Bear's fur, and began to shake it in a fatherly way.

"Hello, Master Winner," the man said in a gravely, but kind voice. He began to lead the blond away from the Bear and into the house. Quatre wondered how this man knew his name, but figured that of the prince could spy on him, he could probably figure out his name easily enough. "I hope you have had an uneventful journey while traveling with Prince Heero Yuy of Sive…I was most happy to hear that you were able to find aid from those goblins and the Troll king."

Quatre resisted the urge to tell the man that he had the goblins under control himself, deciding that pride could wait until later…why were they taking the Bear away? "It was fine…thank you for asking though, sir."

"Not a sir, Master Winner," the man answered with a laugh as a servant drabbed in red and white took his traveling pack from his hand. "I am called Seguoir and I am the steward of Tria Manor, as well as an advisor to his Royal Highness, Prince Trowa. If you would like, you may call my Professor S…many already do and I would like us to get to know one another better."

Quatre smiled at the man's friendliness, not able to help the positive emotions he seemed to feed directly into him. "Only if you call me Quatre, none of this 'master' business…I am nothing but a merchant's son from Araaban!"

"That you may have been," Seguoir replied with a wise smile at the blond youth as he moved Quatre to stand on a huge sigil on the floor that mirrored the one on his cloak. "But a Prince's betrothed you are now…and it seems as if he has chosen wisely. But, as you will, I will call you Master Quatre as you have asked. Now, I suppose that you are quite tired and in need of some rest yes?"

"Oh, well yes," Quatre started, looking around for the Bear before looking back into warm grey eyes. "Yes, I suppose but, where is the Bear? I was hoping that I would be able to…"

"He needs his rest as well, young Master," the gray-haired man said with a smile. "Don't worry, he'll be well looked after, but now I think it is you who needs the rest. I'll have someone take you up to your quarters and—"

"I'm not meeting the prince tonight?" Quatre blurted out, clapping his hand to his mouth the instance the question left with a blush. He lowered his hand and looked down at the floor, embarrassed at how impolite that was...if the prince didn't want to get up to meet him, he certainly didn't have to; it was his manor after all. "I'm sorry," he mumbled quietly as he looked up from the floor, wishing the man would react in some way other than a smile.

"Don't be child," the old man said with a chuckle at the face Quatre made at being called a child. "I understand that you are probably very anxious to meet his Highness, but it is rather late and Prince Trowa has just recently returned from a very perilous and arduous journey himself. I'm sure he will arrange to meet with you the moment he is able to…now, let's get you up and to bed shall we?"

S clapped his hands once and a petite, black haired girl came forward, smiling in a cat-like way at the confused looking blonde. "Master Quatre," S said with hand wave at the girl. "This is Hilde, and she will be your personal guide and servant here at Tria Manor."

"Servant?" Quatre asked as he looked between the girl and old man. "I don't need a servant, S…I mean, not that I don't appreciate the gesture or anything but I don't want anyone to be—"

"Would you rather she was out of a job?" the steward asked with a grin. A horrified expression crossed the blond's face at the suggestion, and he shot a glance at Hilde, who was struggling to keep from laughing. "For, her only job here is to help you…but, if you have no desire for her aid than I'm sure she can find work elsewhere…"

"No!" Quatre exclaimed vehemently, looking insulted that the girl would just be cast out like that. "I don't want her to lose her job, I just…well…oh all right fine! But I really don't think this is necessary."

"Probably not young Master," Seguoir said with that infuriating smile still on his face. "But let us do our jobs…as I said before, you're no longer a mere merchant's son and here you will be treated as your station provides. Now Hilde, take the young Master up to his quarters and ready a bath for him, and then it's straight off to bed. It was a pleasure meeting you, Master Quatre Winner, and I hope to see you on the morrow." He swept down in the direction that the bear had traveled while Quatre felt himself tugged up the winding staircase by the skinny girl.

Hilde led him down a few halls, labeling the more important ones as they passed, before stopping in front of two very large doors that opened into an even larger room. Quatre felt his eyes widen as Hilde led him inside and deposited him in front of a enormous bed while she ducked off to ready a bath for him…this room was probably bigger than his father's entire cottage, Quatre mused. Quatre walked towards a large window that overlooked the back of the estate, starlight coloring the gardens and gazebos in pearly light…but he didn't see the Bear. He frowned and craned his neck and stood on tiptoes to try and spot him.

"Your bath is ready, my Lord," Hilde said in a perky voice as she entered the room, startling him out of his search. She was grinning at him in a very friendly way…everyone here seemed to be treating him like the next great Na'jeer sultans that would rescue the people in stories back home. It was nice to feel so instantly welcomed into their lives and home but…but he was still plagued by that feeling of dread that he had felt when he first left his home some weeks ago.

"Thank you," Quatre said politely as he walked in the direction she indicated.

"Do you need any assistance?" the petite servant asked with a saucy grin, a joking giggle escaping her lips at the blush that started to dust across Quatre's pale cheeks.

"Uh, no thank you," he said with a shy smile. He could definitely be friends with Hilde…she reminded him of his sister Maya slightly…great, that made him miss his sister Maya. And Shaara…and of course Iria.

"Very well, Master Quatre," Hilde replied with a wink as she hastened out of the bathing room. "I'll put your night clothes on the bed in your room. Holler if you need anything!"

"Uh…okay then," Quatre murmured as the girl exited the room. He was about to ask how he already had clothes here that were the correct measurements, but he figured he didn't want to know. He slid into the tub after undressing out of the traveling clothes, giving out a small hiss of satisfaction as steam blanketed his form along with warm water and soapy bubbles. He took his time, making sure to wipe clear all vestiges of the past few days away…the water stayed the same temperature throughout his bath, making him wonder just how magical the Fey lands were as he scrubbed his golden hair clean, smirking at the dirt and grass clumps that were dislodged from time to time. Only when his hands became too pruned to distinguish between him and an old man did he lift himself out of the bath, draping a fluffy towel around his slim waist with one hand while the other combed water out of his hair.

The night clothes were there on the massive bed, just as Hilde said they would be, and Quatre quickly slipped into the soft pants and top, eager to not further embarrass him in front of the raven-haired girl. His instinct to dress quickly proved to be accurate, as the girl swooped back in with a serving tray in her hands, carrying what looked to be a tea kettle and some biscuits. She smiled at him as he accepted a cup of the tea with a "thank you" thinking he looked somewhat small sitting on that bed by himself.

"Did you enjoy your bath, Master Quatre?" Hilde asked as she sat beside him, offering a biscuit to go with his tea. He looked much too sad, Hilde decided as he gave a short nod and a wan smile, focusing his gaze on the rising moon outside after declining a biscuit. "Then why the frown, sir? If you don't mind me asking that is; I've been told I pry too much for my own good so if I bug you, just let me know!"

"It's nothing," Quatre said as he turned his sea-blue gaze back on the cornflower-blue eyed girl. He took another sip of the spiced tea before handing it back to her as well. She continued to look at him for another minute or so, apparently not satisfied with his previous answer and Quatre gave a small chuckle at the tiny frown forming on her pixie-like face. "Really, Hilde, it's not anything to be helped…I'm feeling a little homesick is all. You remind me of one of my sisters a little bit..."

"I understand, Master Quatre," Hilde said with a smile as she took his cup and rose off the bed to stand before him. "It must be hard to leave all that behind…but don't think of losing a family so much…you're gaining more members is all, and won't get to see some as much as others. Would you like me to give you a tour of the grounds tomorrow, after you are well rested from your journey?"

"I would like that," Quatre answered with a grin, unable to help but liking this girl. "On one condition…none of this 'Master' business. I understand it as to be used when in formal company but honestly, just Quatre will be fine. I'll call you 'Miss Hilde' should you keep calling me 'Master Quatre!'"

"You drive a hard bargain, sir," Hilde responded with a laugh as she made her way to the large double doors of his room with the tray in arm. "So I suppose I can do naught but concede…get some good rest Quatre and I will see you in the morning!" She tossed the blond one last contagious smile before departing.

Quatre settled back onto the pillows, silently asking himself was there really a reason for having ten pillows one a bed made for one, as he lay down, staring at the cream ceiling. It seemed like his stationary life had been swept up into a whirlwind as he contemplated that only a few weeks ago he had been at home in Araaban, listening to the gossip of the Sultan's new wife and the rise in cost of cotton. Now he was laying down in abed that could easily house five of his sisters comfortably and completely clueless as to what the future may hold. With all these thoughts swirling around in his head, the foremost being what the mysterious prince would be like and when he would meet him, Quatre began to wonder if he was ever going to get to sleep. No sooner after thinking that and closing his eyes, however, he drifted off into dreamless slumber, too exhausted to worry about those problems anymore that night.

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The next morning, Quatre woke up feeling refreshed and completely in control of his gift once more…it was still hard to call it empathy when he had just referred to it as a funny quirk his whole life. True to her word, Hilde met him soon after he woke up with breakfast, and then proceeded to show him the vast array of clothing he could where that day while strolling through the manor grounds. Quatre nearly snorted the juice he was drinking when she opened the closet (he had thought it was another room at first based on the size) and revealed more clothing than the entirety of his hometown would ever had put together! He made a quiet comment to Hilde about this…as well as how the seamstresses here could possibly know all of his measurements when he hadn't been there for an entire day yet.

Hilde simply laughed, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Do not underestimate the ways of Fey, milord! Rest assured that the seamstresses knew before hand and everything should fit accordingly!" She then bustled into the huge closest and came out with a pair of brown pants and a loose fitting button-up shirt the same color as his eyes. Afterwards, she grabbed a white vest and handed it to the stunned boy, saying that "The Prince has taken your culture into consideration…he wants you to feel at home here."

Well, maybe this prince wasn't so terrible, Quatre mused as he slipped the traditional Araaban vest over his shirt…it was a very nice gesture to not make him feel completely alienated in the new land. Still, nothing he ever owned back home was ever this fine…it felt nice against his skin.

The tour ended up taking the majority of the morning, and then spilling over into the early after noon, but Hilde managed to show Quatre the entirety of the inside of Tria Manor, including most of the staff and servants. Quatre's favorite thus far was a delightful cook named Howard…he was one of the rare few who didn't treat the blond with a divine sort of reverence. The man had odd hair as well, and he told him a few amazing stories about the past happenings of the Colony kingdoms since he had come to live here. In one of the larger gardens outside Hilde had to take her leave, making sure Quatre was fine before hurrying off after another couple serving girls. That was where Quatre had been left an hour or so ago, but he found the garden so relaxing he didn't want to leave…and it was there that he was nearly startled out of his seat by a cheerful voice.

"Hello there!"

Quatre turned about quickly to be met with a kind pair of blue eyes in a pretty face, framed by two golden-brown plaits. The woman looked only a bit older than he was physically, but everything about her that Quatre felt spoke of wisdom that was much older than some twenty summers. She was dressed in a different kind of clothing than most of the others in the manor, wearing green pants, a white blouse with intricate jade designs, and walking about barefoot. She smiled wider at the surprised look on his face, chuckling a bit when he started to flush in embarrassment.

"I didn't mean to startle you." The woman sat beside the blond on the stone bench he had been occupying. She fixed her eyes on his own and sent out a feeling of comfort and trust. Quatre's eyes widened and he stood up quickly, clutching one hand to his heart and letting the other wring at the fabric of his pants.

"How did you…? You sent that emotion into me!" Quatre's voice was hurried, and he looked at the woman with a mixed look of amazement and anger. He didn't like toying with other peoples' emotion and in turn, did not like his being tampered with…Hamir learned that quickly enough when he had been younger.

"Well, you seemed so lost," the woman said calmly. She rose from her seat, that damn smile still in place; didn't anyone here ever frown? "I didn't mean to upset you further…I guess I forgot how touchy Empaths can be when it comes to their own emotions. But, it's been awhile since I've met one, so forgive an old girl her mistakes…the name's Sally Po, and I'm the resident healer for Trowa."

_Trowa? _Quatre hadn't heard anyone but Heero just call him by his first name…hell, even he didn't use his first name! This woman, who seemed to confirm his feeling of her older age when she referred to herself as an 'old girl,' must be close to the prince…something that Quatre figured wasn't all that common. He gave the healer an unsure bow of respect and introduced himself. "Oh…I'm Quatre Winner, but please, just call me Quatre. I'm really not comfortable with the whole title or anything; it just sounds foreign when it's added to my name."

"It seems that Trowa still has good judgment." Sally laughed and gave Quatre a respectful look. "Well, it's good that you don't mind nixing the titles because I never really was good at them…it's nice to meet you Quatre. You want some company as you meander aimlessly through the gardens?" Quatre gave her another surprised look to which she replied, "You seem lonely and melancholy…a pretty face like yours shouldn't have a frown on it."

Quatre gave her a small glare at the pretty reference but nodded his head…this Sally Po felt relaxing. Whether she was doing it on purpose or not was still a question he found himself thinking about, but the more she and he talked the more he discovered he didn't care. Like Hilde, Sally had an infectious personality that one couldn't help but like…these people were sure making it hard for Quatre to resent this place. He discovered that she actually was from the Quinque Colonies, along with her husband who was part of the royal family, and came from a long line of healers. He found her easy to talk with and mentally, tacked up the friend tally to three here at Tria Manor…it was getting to hard to stay mad at this place. She spoke very little about Prince Trowa whenever he asked a question about him, but Quatre could feel nothing but affection and respect for the still unknown monarch from her when she did speak of him.

"You're anxious to meet him, aren't you?" Sally asked him with a smile after he covertly tried to pose another question about the prince's personality. She laughed softly at the faint blush that covered the blond's cheeks, followed closely by a sheepish grin as he shrugged his shoulders. "Well, can't say as I blame you, you are betrothed to him; I'd want to know about the guy I was supposed to marry as well. But, in all honesty, Trowa's a very private person and wouldn't appreciate it if I went and blabbed all his secrets to you before he could do it himself. He's a good man though. You bored of these gardens yet?"

Quatre recognized the diversionary tactic but let it pass, figuring he was beating against a brick wall at this point, and nodded absently. Sally pursed her lips in thought for a moment or two before asking, "What did you do in Araaban? Hobbies, pastimes, anything?"

"Well," Quatre started. He followed Sally out of the gardens and towards an area of the grounds Hilde hadn't showed him. "I didn't have a lot of free time back home…I worked to help my father support the family. But…well, I liked music and my Uncle Hamir used to coach me with weaponry when I did have a rare moment. My father hated it when I went though…he's a pacifist you see, and after it was determined that I wasn't to be a warrior, he didn't approve of my uncle teaching me how to fight. I enjoyed it though, and wasn't that bad; I've bested Hamir more than once to his own chagrin."

"So you're uncle taught you the way of the sword?" Sally asked, a calculating gleam in her blue eyes that made Quatre a little nervous. He never liked it when his sisters got that look in their eyes…it always meant that he was about to be outsmarted or tricked into doing their chores.

"Well, Hamir really isn't my uncle," Quatre said cautiously. He stopped with Sally in front of a flat roofed building. "He's an old friend of my father's, but that's what we've always called him. And yes, though I never really worked with swords…I didn't have the strength for one of those. What he trained me with were shotels, a curved blade native to Araaban, and scimitars on occasion. I could use a spear too if I had to…but I always preferred two- handed combat."

"Well, Quatre," Sally said with a smile. She pushed open the door to the flat roofed building and guided the blond into its dark interior. "You're in luck, because our weapon master here would be an excellent sparing partner and will keep you busy for a few hours each day. Wait just a second…" She turned away from the confused looking boy and shouted to someone in an unknown language. She was answered almost immediately by an angry sounding voice and a young man about Quatre's height and looked about his age walked out.

His black hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail that rested at the nape of his neck and dangled an inch or two below. He was pulling off a pair of glasses away from his beetle-black eyes that glittered like onyx, fixing Sally with a severe expression that Quatre sensed was some kind of habitual banter between the two, like the arguing was as normal to them as discussing the weather. His eyes were slanted, like Sally's and he wore a dark green tunic with white pants, black slipper-looking shoes on his feet; at his side rested a long, thin sword that looked dangerously sharp. The young man fixed Sally and Quatre with a look and asked in the strange tongue, "Onna?"

"Man," Sally said in Common. A fond smile crept across her face…Quatre didn't need his empathy to know that this was the husband Sally had mentioned earlier which meant that this man was a prince too! "I'd like you to meet Quatre Winner, Trowa's betrothed. Quatre, this Chang Wufei of the Dragon Clan."

"Hello," Quatre answered with a nervous smile. He spread his hands in opposite directions in front of him as Araaban custom dignified when meeting someone of higher status. Quatre had been caught off guard with Heero…he wouldn't be with this prince even if he had abdicated his throne.

"So you're the one who Barton's been mooning over for the past year," Wufei said with a somewhat apathetic look on his face, unimpressed. His black eyes raked over Quatre's slim figure critically, and the blue-eyed boy felt his neck and ears heat up; did everyone he meet need to notice his short and slender stature? He narrowed his eyes at the black-haired youth, but he kept his expression pleasant, wordlessly asking if he was satisfied.

"My name's Quatre," the blond said with a calm voice. "I understand that it seems sudden that I am to be bonded with the prince, it is all very sudden to me as well, but I will try my hardest to make your prince happy and prove whatever faith he has in me. Sally mentioned that you are a weapons master and I was hoping that you wouldn't mind sparing with me. I used to practice with my uncle in Araaban and I hope you will consider it."

Wufei gazed stonily at the blond youth and then back at his smirking wife…the woman really was too much sometimes. He walked over to a cabinet and opened it wide to display an array of weapons and motioned to the blond to pick out one. He received a curt nod and the boy instantly grabbed two of the Quattuon weapons, shotels, and flipped both in his hands experimentally with skill and dexterity. Wufei found his initial opinion of the youth changing as he watched him twirl them in his hands…there was skill there, but he needed to make some rules clear; word of this boy's abilities had spread quickly and he wanted to know how good the boy was raw.

"Three touches," Wufei said briskly as he pulled out his katana and blunted the sharp edge, watching the blonde do the same. "No gifts, only skill. I will not use my fire and you will not use your empathy, understood?"

Quatre nodded, briefly wondering what Wufei meant by fire gift, but he pushed that thought aside as he got into a ready position. He felt a burning desire to prove this man wrong…he would prove that he wasn't weak, and he would do it without his abilities easy. Wufei did not wait long before charging Quatre fiercely, feinting an attack to the right and then slashing left, which Quatre parried with his left shotel before attacking with his right one quickly. The dance continued this way for the next fifteen minutes or so, one touch going to each fighter before they began the third spar.

Quatre was breathing heavily, not having been through a workout this strenuous in some time, but he refused to back down now, he knew he could win; he already had one touch against Wufei's. Wufei was still breathing normally, but Quatre began to see the pattern of his attacks in his head as the third spar progressed, the dark-eyed man spending too much time on his offence and not enough on defense. There was an opening that Quatre spotted every time he lunged, and he always seemed to feint to the right before striking forward…not all that important against most fighters but Quatre could see them and he knew how to exploit them, the correct form showing itself in his head. So, when Wufei lunged to the left after feinting right, Quatre knew where the blade was going before it even got there…he blocked the attack and surprised the weapons master when he sent his other shotel in a curving arc that touched the open hole near his neck. He smiled brightly and felt a rush of success strum through him, making him forget his tiredness for a moment.

Wufei stepped back, a harsh look on his face that wiped away any victory Quatre was feeling. "I thought I said no abilities."

"I didn't," Quatre replied, still with a smile, breathing heavily under the doubtful gaze. "Honestly, I didn't use it…"

"Then how did you predict my attack before it came?" Wufei asked in an angry tone, causing the smile to fade off of the blond's face slowly.

"I recognized your battle pattern," Quatre answered evenly. He wasn't about to take being accused of cheating when he hadn't! "You always feinted to the right before an attack and left a small hole in your defense because you didn't believe me enough of a threat to notice it. I predicted what your move would be based off of your previous attacks and formed a block that would both counter you and leave the hole open to attack…you rely to much on offence and not enough on defense."

Quatre could here Sally giggling from behind him, but he kept his eyes fixed on the surprised face of the arms master. The black eyes stared into the ocean blue ones and finally Wufei responded with a slight nod of his head. "It seems that I have grown to used my own prowess…I am sorry I misjudged you Quatre Winner. You have a sharp mind, and are quite skilled at battle, but you have much to improve upon. It would be an honor to spar with you, Winner; you've proved yourself worthy as far as I'm concerned."

"I told you Fei," Sally said with a smile. She pressed a kiss to the sputtering man's cheek before standing beside Quatre once more. "I told you Trowa picked someone good…stubborn man, never listening to my words."

"Woman!" Wufei yelled. "What have I told you about calling me by that dishonorable name?!"

"Well," Sally said with one last wink as she ushered a very tired, but accomplished Quatre out of the building. "Be grateful I didn't pick up anything more from that bard eh?"

"Don't you mention that baka to me woman!" Wufei shouted after them, before reverting to swear, Quatre surmised, in his native tongue. He gave Sally a questioning look as she led him back inside which only earned him an amused chuckle.

"A year or so back," Sally said as she guided the blond back up to his quarters. "During Prince Heero's majority birthday celebration, an Elven bard came to perform and he seemed to live to infuriate Wufei…came up with a plethora of nicknames that, of course, my darling husband can't stand. I was sad to see that young elf leave but…well, he didn't live here so I suppose he wanted to head back to his own home. And there was something that happened between him and the prince that was, well, upsetting to the Elf. Stupid Heero, messing up things that could be good for him as usual by acting like a bastard…but enough about that. I think you need to head on in there and let Hilde clean you up…you certainly can't meet the prince's sister smelling like you do, can you?" Sally motioned behind them, where Hilde had suspiciously reappeared, looking far too pleased with herself.

"What?!" Quatre yelped, whirling about to face a smirking Sally with a horrified expression. "I'm—I'm meeting the prince's sister today? Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Oh that's right," Sally said as she tapped a finger against her chin, fighting to keep the smirk from growing into a grin as Quatre fixed her with a murderous glare. "I was supposed to find you and tell you…well, you know now! Stop dawdling and get in there…don't worry, you'll wow Catherine as long as you let Hilde do her job!"

"What if she hates me?" Quatre asked in a whisper as Hilde grabbed his resisting arm and tried to drag him into his room. He fixed Sally with his best pout to try and get her to get him out of the meeting, but she just leveled him with a disbelieving look. It had finally happened; he had met someone who the Winner pout didn't affect.

"Quatre," she said with an air of indifference as she began to walk away. "I really don't think it's possible for anyone half-way decent to hate you…just be yourself and everything will be fine. You have to meet the in-laws eventually you know, the facts that she can throw daggers with pinpoint accuracy and is extremely protective of her younger brother aren't really that big a deal."

"Daggers?!" Quatre yelped weakly. Hilde finally won and dragged him into the room, shutting the door behind her with a slam. Sally hummed to herself as she continued back down to the weapons dojo to where her husband was most likely waiting for her…she knew that Wufei was probably still silently fuming that he had lost to Quatre due to an assumption and unknown strategic genius the boy wielded, and that meant one thing. He had to prove he was still a powerful, macho man…this meant a nice night of sex for her. She hummed a bit louder to herself as she disappeared into the dark, traditional Quinque structure.

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His irrational fear of meeting the prince's sister was rather silly, Quatre mused three days after; that and hindsight can be a curse rather than a blessing most of the time. The Lady Catherine was indeed very protective of her brother, but she seemed so concerned at Quatre's nervous manner and the peculiar notion that she was going to use him for target practice with her daggers that she spent most of the dinner reassuring him how wonderful her brother was. She would toss her shoulder length red hair and murmur in her soprano voice that she understood how scared Quatre must be, and then her light blue eyes would smile along with her mouth and she'd say that everything would end up all right.

She did, however, give him a lecture about something that was wrong with the prince…and about how it was important that he didn't try to pry into what it was or something terrible could happen. Of course Quatre had assured her, the woman could throw daggers for Allah's sake, but he felt such a deep fear in the woman that he found himself meaning his promise. He, like he had to everyone else, asked her about her brother, to which she would always reply, "Trowa's such a sweetheart…quiet though. He's really a strange kid, but he's one of the greatest you'll ever meet!" There was belief there too, just as with everyone else, and Quatre found himself believing them despite his own mindset not too, even though he still hadn't really been told anything.

She made mention of why the prince couldn't see him yet, that while away on his trip something extremely important to the safety of the Tria Colonies came up and was consuming all of his attention. She was sympathetic, but Quatre could tell she was testing him…she wanted to see if he was going to pitch a fit about not being able to see his betrothed and display acts of greed and selfishness. He had let her know that, while he was anxious to meet the prince, he understood that he had other priorities that were more important. He said this truthfully, even though it hurt to say, and thought he glimpsed a flash of sadness from the Lady Catherine, but he didn't focus on it. He didn't want anyone's pity…

She had asked to for him to call her Cathy, no Lady or anything, in exchange for his request to just be Quatre, and then she had requested his presence for dinner the next night. He had accepted and for another two nights he dined with the princess, already resigned to the fact that while the prince may be kind, his betrothed was not his main concern at the moment. So, after a morning of sparring with Wufei and then an afternoon of curious exploring of the grounds, the blond sat waiting in the garden in a blue ensemble Hilde picked out for him. The Lady Catherine (he still thought of her as that even though she had asked him not to), had yet to come to her own summons, but Quatre didn't really care. It was hard to find anything to care about, well, besides sparring really…the rug that was ripped out from under him hadn't been replaced and he felt a sad sense of detachment fade into everything he encountered in Tria Manor. He liked everyone, he did, but…every day seemed to remind him of what he ahd sacrificed for his family.

So, he sat on a bench overlooking a swan inhabited lake, toying with one of the cuffs on his dark blue tunic, eyes unfocused and singing a soft Araaban lullaby under his breath. He didn't know want to think about how tragic he must have looked to anyone who would pass by, a lost boy singing in a strange tongue…however, so consumed in his thoughts he didn't sense a figure approach, watching him sing with a deep sense of amazement and longing. The figure cleared his throat and waited for those brilliant blue-green eyes to meet his own.

Quatre turned around on the bench and his eyes gazed into the soul of a man clothed in all black besides the dark green trim of his jerkin. The man's auburn hair fell over half of his face…a face that was covered by a mask from forehead to the tip of his nose, save for the eyes, narrowing into slats so that only his mouth and chin were visible. He was tall, nearly as tall as Quatre's own father and had broad shoulders, but an otherwise slim figure like his own and his mouth was a flat line, betraying nothing to the common observer. Quatre felt his senses overwhelmed by the emotions in the man and he let out a small gasp as he stood up from the bench, one hand covering his heart while the other dropped boneless to the side.

Quatre had never felt his empathy overwhelmed like it was now…but it wasn't a bad feeling contrary to his first thought when it had started to flood his senses. It was as if something inside him had been waiting for this young man for his whole life…like there was so much more to discover about himself as he stared into the forest green eyes of the masked man. The blond was so lost in his own sensory overload that he didn't notice the man had moved until he stood directly in front if him…the covered face betraying nothing and eyes clouded over with doubt. Quatre let out a silent pray to Allah that this man was…

"Hello, Quatre Winner," the man said in a deep baritone. His voice sounded as emotionless as his masked face displayed. "I apologize for my lateness in meeting with you…I'm Trowa Barton…it's a pleasure."

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Edited chapter for structure, clarity, and grammar. Enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

Candlelight (4/?)

Author: Osco

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xS

Rating: R

Warnings: Lemony goodness, violence, language, magical happenings, and ugly Trolls trying to ruin the story!

Summary: Retelling of the fairy tale, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" GW style. What if you made a mistake? What if the person you loved had to pay the price? How far would you go to save him? How about a place that can't exist?

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I am but a poor college student who has no hold over the characters whatsoever and is doing this as a pastime.

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**Chapter Four: **_**Learning to Love You**_

Quatre found himself just staring at the tall, mask-covered prince after he had introduced himself, trying to come up with something intelligent to say. He couldn't though, not with all the emotions flying through him at the moment…he had never had such a connection with someone so quickly after meeting him or her; not even with his own sisters! The blond was a firm believer in falling in love, not some instantaneous blast that hit suddenly, but what he was feeling now for this unknown prince was hard to describe as anything but the start of love…it was confusing and making him look foolish in front of his betrothed. He blinked a few times, fixing his blue eyes on the viridian ones, and opened his mouth to ask the prince something, anything, to break the awkward silence that had over shadowed them both. The prince beat him to it, however, raising a hand in front of Quatre's lips and speaking in the same quiet, calm voice that betrayed nothing.

"For reasons I cannot explain," the auburn-haired monarch began. His green eyes were almost leaking sadness and dread into Quatre…why was he dreading the words he had to say? Why did Quatre feel his breath catch in his throat at the thoughts of why? "I must wear a mask at all times to conceal my face from view. I understand that this was not part of the original agreement of your acceptance of my proposal, and therefore I relinquish any hold I may have on you. However, if it is your wish to still remain engaged with me, and you think you are able to look past this," he indicated the green mask with his forefinger. "Then I would like it very much to get to know you. The decision is yours though."

The prince finished his lengthy speech, lengthy because Quatre got the feeling that the young man did not speak when not necessary, but he looked desperately lost in the one eye that was visible beneath the mask and hair. Quatre didn't respond right away, he merely looked at the young man standing before him…he didn't look all that much older than himself really; maybe only a year or so, if that. Quatre reached out with his empathy and felt the emotions in the prince's heart, the ones that weren't locked away from sight at least, and the blond could feel how unsure of himself and vulnerable the prince was. After bringing Quatre here, something that he obviously wanted very much, he was prepared to let him leave if he wanted to…a choice that, perhaps even only a few moments ago Quatre wouldn't have found very difficult, but now...

He didn't know, not anymore. For some reason, Quatre felt bonded to this young man after only moments of meeting him, as if he had been waiting all this time just to _meet_ him. Perhaps it was the beginnings of love, maybe it wasn't, but it was something powerful that the blond had never felt before…he wanted to figure out what it meant. And he wanted to figure it out with this green-eyed, silent man, mask or no mask. Quatre had felt the sincerity of his heart; it didn't matter what he looked like or why he had his face covered. He reached out tentatively and wrapped his fingers around the tall man's own, looking up and smiling into that closed off face.

"Let's start over," Quatre said in a kind voice. He almost felt as if he was coaxing this man out of his shell and mask, the one not visible on his face like one coaxes a wary horse. "Hello, my name's Quatre…what's yours?"

The tall prince smiled almost imperceptibly, something that Quatre found completely enthralling, before he answered in a lightly amused and relieved voice. "Hello Quatre, I'm Trowa."

Quatre smiled brighter when the hand tightened around his fingers and started to lead him down a path that led to a small gazebo in the gardens. There seemed to be a dinner already prepared underneath, with servers standing by with ill-concealed grins. Quatre arched his eyebrow at some of them; it appeared that he had been duped by the entire household all that day…not that he minded that much.

It was a silent meal for the most part, but it seemed natural, not uncomfortable or awkward. The prince asked a few questions about the blond's trip here, too which Quatre proceeded to tell the tale of the Troll king's attack with fervor…it was the only part of the journey that he found remotely interesting if slightly terrifying, and the tall monarch seemed to smile a few times. It was hard to tell because the cool mask of indifference was back as soon as the smile came, but Quatre could feel the amusement; it was nice to know his gift was finally good for something other than getting a headache. Quatre asked a question or two of the prince, but he evaded nearly every one with a subtleness that would amaze even the most skilled politicians of Araaban…it made the blond question why though.

"Prince Trowa?" Quatre asked softly as the last plate was cleared from the table, teal eyes meeting green across the table. "Can I make an observation?"

The prince nodded, a small frown quirking his visible lips.

"You're not very good with social situations," Quatre said with a smile and slight laugh in his voice. The prince's visible eye widened perceptibly under the mask and his mouth formed a small 'o' of surprise that Quatre caught before it disappeared…that alone was worth the bold statement. It was nice to know the true feelings of a person, but seeing that they existed physically was nice too. Besides, Quatre didn't like to pry into how others were feeling. He kept smiling when the prince flashed a small smirk at the blond as he rose from his seat.

"I suppose my sister and half this household would agree with you," the green-eyed royal answered in the same cool voice. He offered his hand to Quatre, who accepted it and allowed the prince to lead him back towards the Manor, which was now shining against the dark backdrop of the night sky. "I spent most of my youth with a band of hunters in the forests…Professor S thought it would help me grow into a good ruler with my parents dead. As Cathy likes to remind me, that wasn't an ideal place to develop social skills."

"Oh," Quatre said when the prince lapsed into silence again. Quatre narrowed his blue-green eyes and looked at the prince's profile with an expectant look; there was more to the story, he guessed, and he was going to get this man to open up, and he would use his pout if necessary. The masked face looked over and sealed his fate with one look at the wide, blue eyes and slightly jutted lower lip…he heaved a sigh.

"It also probably doesn't help that my main companions were my arms master, Wufei," Trowa continued, fighting not to smile at the blond's enlightened expression. "And Heero Yuy of Sive, both of whom you've met and probably gathered are not big on talking beyond what is necessary."

"I think that would be putting it lightly, your Highness," Quatre quipped with a knowing grin no his face. "Both seem to favor a system of grunts and stares rather than actual words! Does your sister not rub off on you at all?"

"Do yours?" Trowa responded, giving the now flushing boy a rare grin. Something about the young man just made Trowa want to drop all the careful barriers he constructed over the years…even at such a dangerous time to do so. He supposed that, more than anything else was what had ensnared him under the boy's spell. The fact that his face and form matched the inner beauty and glow didn't hurt either though.

"Well, I suppose not," Quatre admitted with a sheepish smile as he and the prince rounded a corner and proceeded down the hallway that led to Quatre's room. "But, I do have quite a few more than you, it would be harder to adapt so many different personalities into my own! I guess that no one but us can really influence how we act or feel."

"Unless you're an Empath," Trowa commented lightly, but then immediately regretting it when he saw the hard look enter the blond's blue eyes.

"I can't influence how a person feels," Quatre said calmly. He didn't take his eyes off the remorseful green orbs. "All I've ever been able to do is feel those feelings. Sometimes, I wish I _could_ change what someone feels, if it's grief or sadness or anger but…but it's up to that person to do it on their own. Maybe there are Empaths who can do this, and maybe I can as well, I don't know much about my gift. But, even if I were able to do that, I wouldn't…it's not right to take someone's own emotions away and warp them into something else."

Quatre looked away as the pair continued silently until the reached the double doors of the blond's quarters. Quatre was starting to feel guilty at lecturing the prince like he had…what real right did he have to do that anyway? It wasn't like he was a noble who had a right to say things like that to a prince! Plus, now the tall man had retreated back into his shell; he had probably just been joking! Quatre looked up at the closed off, forest eyes and opened his mouth to utter an apology for snapping, but two fingers covered his lips before any words could escape.

"I am sorry if I offended you, Quatre," Prince Trowa said in a solemn voice that made Quatre feel even worse…the self-anger radiating from the man wasn't helping either. "It was not my intention."

"No…I'm sorry," Quatre said as he turned his eyes away from the masked face as the fingers left his lips. "You were only joking, your Highness, and I snapped at you. I…I shouldn't have done that and I…I'm sorry."

"What if I forgive you by offering to accompany me to dinner tomorrow evening?" Trowa asked in a calm voice with a slight smile coating the visible portion of his face. He tipped Quatre's chin up with his left hand and lowered his tone to an octave that made the blond's blood race. "And you forgive me be accepting?"

Quatre felt his throat go dry at the look in the prince's eyes, now so close that the other was visible under the shock of hair, and he nodded with a nervous smile…who knew that this silent young man was so good with words when he decided to speak? Trowa smiled softly for a second before leaning forward and brushing his lips against Quatre's cheek, leaving the shocked boy with that exact expression when he pulled away. "Until tomorrow night then?" Trowa asked as he stepped away, right hand leaving Quatre's left, leaving him with only the capacity to nod before turning on his heel and heading towards, what Quatre assumes, were his own quarters.

Quatre waited until the tall prince rounded the corner before sagging against the doors of his rooms and placing a hand on the spot where the prince…Trowa…had kissed. It felt so hot underneath his fingertips and Quatre could still feel the blood pounding in his ears as he pushed open the doors and smiled radiantly at Hilde, who had a smug look on her face for some reason.

"I take it went well, Master Quatre," Hilde asked as she caught the black vest the exuberant and humming blond had thrown at her as he waltzed into the bathing room.

"So well that I'm not even angry at you for tricking me, Hilde," Quatre replied. It earned him a smile from the petite girl. "The prince is, well, a bit different, but he's wonderful! He may be a little quiet but that just makes up who he is…I didn't even think it was possible to feel like this over someone you just met!"

"So I guess you can't fault the prince for his sudden feelings for you anymore, can you Master Quatre?" Hilde asked as the blond bounced back in and flopped down on his bed in his night clothes, sighing happily and seemingly ignoring the jibe sent his way. _Yep, he's on Cloud Nine all right,_ Hilde thought to herself with a smile as she listened to the strange tune Quatre hummed under his breath.

When she received no answer from the distracted boy, Hilde gathered up the other discarded clothes from that evening and headed out the door. When she reached the door, she noticed that the blond was curled up happily on the bed, smiling in his sleep. The dark-haired girl smiled at the sight and resisted the urge to coo as she shut the door softly on the snoozing blond, hurrying off to the washroom to deposit the prince's betrothed's clothing to be cleaned. The washing girls would be happy for the bit of gossip at this hour anyway.

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Cathy was curled up in her favorite chair wearing a loose slip and a chemise over it, waiting for her probably frantic brother by pretending to read a book. Her curly hair was hanging loose around her face and she had a pleasantly pensive expression gracing her countenance; a look that turned positively wicked when her brother came striding into his study, ripping off that infernal mask as he shut the door. It was a pity for the silent monarch that his sister's favorite chair happened to reside in his quarters, and his shadowed face looked up to acknowledge her presence, the cool mask of indifference slipping off with an exasperated sigh.

"Things go well with your affianced, Trowa?" Cathy asked as she pretended to start reading her book again, trying desperately to keep the smile and giggle threatening to overwhelm her under control. Her look turned to one of sympathy when she saw the same lost look he had on his face earlier that evening…maybe things hadn't gone as well as she had thought they would. "Oh, Trowa, are you all right? You didn't trip and fall did you?"

"Might as well have," Trowa muttered as he disappeared into his dressing room, reappearing after a minute or so out of the stifling formal clothes and wearing a looser pair of pants with a tight turtleneck. He sat beside his older sister in adjoining chair and looked at her with pleading eyes. Cathy knew it must either be very serious, or Trowa just thought it was, for him to show so much facial expression, even to her! Sometimes she wanted to hang S for what he did to Trowa…

"Well, was it so bad that we should start looking for someone new?"

"No…" Trowa said before trailing off. Cathy waited patiently for him to start up again. "Everything was fine, and Quatre is amazing, it's just…" Cathy smirked in a knowing way; she had only met that blond boy a few times but she knew how easy it was to fall under his spell…her brother never stood a chance against those big blue eyes. "But then…I hurt him. I said something as a joke but he was hurt by it."

"Well," Cathy said with a calm air around her. She clasped Trowa's hands within her smaller ones. "That's why Sally and I prepared that back-up plan and apology statement in case you slipped a bit. Did that work?"

"Of course it worked…it was fool proof," a new voice said from the door, and both siblings looked up and were met with the smiling blue eyes of Sally Po. She strode into the room, careful to shut the door behind her when she saw that Trowa's face was only covered by his auburn hair. "The boy would have had to been completely dead inside to not have accepted that kind of apology. I don't know why you're looking so depressed Trowa…according to Hilde and some of the washing girls the only thing that seemed wrong with our new resident blond was an inability to quit smiling."

Cathy smiled brightly while Trowa perked up slightly, green eyes searching Sally Po's to make sure she wasn't just coddling him to make him feel better. "You're positive?" he asked in an almost analytical way, earning an affronted look and gentle slap from his sister.

"Yes, Trowa," Sally answered with another grin. "Whatever you did, that was all you and it sent that boy to bed in a strange land where he knows no one to bed with a smile."

"So," Cathy said with a knowing look over at Sally before focusing her eyes on her brother. "He's accepted another outing and is obviously not displeased with you…what are you planning on doing, little brother?"

"I don't suppose another walk in the gardens would suffice," Trowa asked looking at the scandalized expressions both women were wearing at his casual statement. He normally would not have asked his sister and the healer for help, enough knowledge and experience had taught him that over the years, but this was different…Quatre Winner was different than any other partner he'd ever had and he didn't want to mess _anything_ up. However, sitting here and being barraged by their ideas and cheeky comments was starting to make him feel incompetent…why hadn't they told him how wrong he was going about the whole courting business before now?

"Of course it wouldn't, Trowa," Cathy sniffed, as if she was offended he had even suggested it. Frankly, Trowa thought her reaction was unnecessary, it wasn't like he was courting her or Sally. "You don't want to bore the poor thing, do you? Think about it, he's only been in Tria for a few days and has no real idea of the customs or sights it has to offer…it can't be too hard to come up with something!"

"There's always trying to figure out what his interests are," Sally poked in, drawing a scowl from the prince in the process. "I mean, he is going to marry you eventually…it might help to know his likes and dislikes."

Cathy clapped her hands together and made a small noise of pleasure. "Oh! I know! Why not take him down to the lake near Rame and go for a swim? A nice coach ride through the countryside to a smaller town of Tria after dusk would be nice."

"Cathy, that probably wouldn't work," Sally interjected with a pointed look at the princess. "Araaban, his homeland, is a desert like land…I doubt he even knows how to swim! Besides, don't you think it'll be a little late by the time they head back?"

"No, and my brother could teach him, "Cathy responded instantly with a wicked grin on her face. "I'm sure Trowa and the driver will keep a good track on the time. Besides, there's nothing as, ah bonding, as teaching someone how to swim. Trusting someone with your life, clutching for support, barely clothed…"

Trowa began to tune out the two women's conversation as they began to get more and more lewd by the minute. Who would have thought that two, 'refined,' ladies of the Tria Colonies court had such bawdy sense of humor? Instead of listening to the increasingly rowdy banter, Trowa focused his thoughts back on the smiling blond and how he had recaptured his very soul that evening without even trying. He knew when he first saw him in the field that he was potentially dooming himself…but that hardly seemed to matter anymore as the blond pushed his golden hair out of his eyes and smiled.

Trowa remembered thinking that he had the most gorgeous eyes he had ever seen…a swirling ocean blue that reflected green light from within their depths. His hair had framed his face perfectly, and that smile lit up his entire face…Trowa had already been craving this unknown boy before he had really realized it. And then, the boy started to play an old tune on his the worn violin for his working and saddened father in the dead fields…it wasn't perfect, but it didn't need to be. Trowa found that he couldn't take his eyes off the mysterious blonde as he sang in an unusual language with the violin and drove the weariness from his father's and sisters' eyes.

Seeing that same boy again tonight, dressed to kill in clothes that still reflected that of his homeland, Trowa had been flooded with the same feeling when those ocean-hued eyes turned and met his own. He had almost decided to screw the idea of giving this young man a chance to back out of the betrothal, but he knew that it wouldn't be fair to him to be engaged to man whose face he couldn't see when that had never been a part of the agreement. Those few moments before he gave an answer were some of the worse in Trowa's life…but the blond had taken his hand and he'd had to fight to keep from yelling out in success.

He knew about the blond's worry of Trowa's sudden proposal, and the prospect of getting married to a man he didn't really know anything about, but the green-eyed prince was determined to show him just how he felt. That was why he needed his sister's and Sally's help…all that time in the woods with the hunters and Heero hadn't really made him an expressive person. Luckily, Quatre seemed to understand, probably due to his empathy, but Trowa still felt an obligation to make him as comfortable as possible…if that meant trying to be more emotional than he was going to try! He had watched Heero make this very mistake…he wasn't going to and lose a chance to be happy just because circumstances warned against it.

Trowa shifted his train of thought back to the present, and smiled silently as the spectacle of his sister and the healer still debating what he could do with Quatre on their second 'outing.' He was loathe to tell them he had already thought of something to do…knowing that they had both spent quite a bit of time trying to come up with something suitable. He had a good hunch that, despite being new to Tria Colonies and all, that the blond would prefer something casual…he wasn't the usual nobleman or woman on a dignitary trip, after all.

"Thank you both for your help tonight," Trowa said suddenly, breaking the two women out of their conversation to look over at him. "But I don't think I'll need any help for what to do tomorrow night…I think a simple dinner and star gazing will suffice for now. So, good night Sally, Cathy," Trowa said as he nodded at the healer and pecked his sister on the cheek. He gave one last formal bow and departed into the dressing room, no doubt to get some sleep before dawn. Cathy and Sally looked over at each other before smirking and exiting the room to head off towards their own quarters; they didn't need words really as they knew they were both thinking the same thing.

Who knew that Prince Trowa could be so sentimental when he wanted to be?

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Quatre was beginning to get frustrated.

Oh, it wasn't for lack of comfort or boredom, because after three weeks of living in Tria manor, even though he was beginning to get quite accustomed to life in the new land, there were still many things that were new to him. His lessons with Wufei continued every morning and a friendship began to form between the arms master and student. He spent nearly every afternoon with either Sally Po, who taught him all different kinds of medicinal remedies and how to recognize healing herbs, or the Lady Catherine, who would exchange stories of customs and the Fey with him. No, it was not because of new customs, tiredness, or learning new things.

It was because after three weeks of courting, the prince had yet to do anything beyond holding hands or a peck on the cheek! Quatre understood if the green-eyed and masked prince was tentative because of the lack of social skills, but it was getting ridiculous. And that didn't seem to be it…it seemed to be more that the prince was unsure how he, Quatre, would react…which was just a frustrating. He had already discussed everything with Sally, who seemed very interested and amused by the whole ordeal, and it was decided that he was just going to have to make the first move…the healer seemed confident that the prince would respond. So, Quatre sat on the customary bench in the gardens at dusk, content with watching the sun set until the mysterious prince arrived, garbed in light brown breeches with a white shirt with a dark purple vest with, what he hoped, looked like a calm enough expression. It wasn't as if the prince was the first person he had ever been with but…it all felt so different he couldn't seem to squash the flutter of nervousness in his stomach.

"Good evening, Quatre," a baritone voice said from behind. Quatre turned around and smiled at the prince…who was dressed in what looked like dark greens and blacks; his mask tonight was dark green with white stitching. The blone let the prince guide him to a set dinner table, and the two, well really just Quatre, talked about the day's events while the other listened. Quatre thought it was odd that the prince never really talked about what he did during the day, for Quatre only saw him at night after the sun had set, but it seemed wrong to ask. A feeling in his heart told him that it didn't matter anyway; still, that didn't make his curiosity go away.

"Your Highness?" Quatre asked after the thought had been nagging him for the good part of the night. He had made it through dinner and the majority of their walk through the manor's menagerie, where the prince had uncharacteristically explained to him in great detail each animal's name, traits, and specific habits and stories, before the thought couldn't wait any longer.

Prince Trowa looked over at him and smiled softly…it was almost a foreign look on the usual stoic young man but it seemed spending time among the animals had loosened him up some. He gave a small nod, urging Quatre to continue with the unspoken question, as he glanced over at a strange looking cat with a mane, one Quatre had never seen in his homeland before, the smile slipping off his face like it was never there.

"I was just wondering," he started. Quatre glanced down at his hands before back up at the prince's profile. "What do you do during the day? I mean, I never see you before dusk and no one seems to talk about so I didn't know if it was a secret or something but--" Quatre knew he was rambling by that point and was thankful when the tall monarch stopped abruptly, turned towards him, and silence him with two fingers over his mouth. He, however, was not thankful for the dark look in the prince's visible eyes beneath the mask…those made him cringe slightly in fear that he had maybe overstepped his bounds. He was still unsure of most customs regarding royalty here and…well, he had just asked a personal question that appeared to upset the prince.

The green eyes seemed to soften somewhat though as the two fingers were removed from the blond's mouth, aware that he was making the smaller man uneasy. "Please, Quatre," the prince's voice asked in a soft, but stern tone. "Please understand that I cannot answer that question, for the same reason I cannot explain why I am to wear a mask in your presence. I just must, just as I must attend to other matters during the day that concern the good of my kingdom and people."

He kept looking at Quatre, face and eyes betraying nothing and Quatre feared to reach out with his empathy and feel what was going on inside; the gaze was penetrating and searing. Quatre diverted his ocean eyes towards the ground and back up from the monarch, he couldn't take the emotionless gaze coming from those eyes. "I'm sorry…" he trailed off in a near whisper, balling his hands in fists at his sides…so much for his plan that night. It hurt, the distrust that the prince, and apparently every one else in the household, had for him but coming from Trowa it hurt the most. He didn't even know why…

Quatre felt warm hands encompass his own and he tried to pull away, only to have those hands move to his arms and grip tightly, keeping him in place. He heard the prince's voice trying to get him to raise his head to look at those eyes again, but he didn't want to be met with that apathetic look when his own were brimming with an emotion he had dreamt of having but didn't really understand. But the voice was insistent and eventually Quatre heard, and felt, desperation in that voice that compelled him to look up.

"Quatre," the prince repeated for what seemed like the twentieth time. All traces of the cold, stern monarch were replaced with a shy and unsure young man. By Allah, it was impossible for him to stay angry or hurt because of the prince when he looked like that. "Quatre, I am sorry if I hurt you before…it seems all I am able to do lately. I do not keep things from you because I don't trust you, it's the exact opposite, but I just can't. No one here can or something terrible could happen…please, I need you to trust that. I need you to trust me in this…"

Quatre didn't respond right away, he was so shocked to see the prince so upset when he usual handled things with such coolness. In his shock, he forgot to enforce his shield and he was flooded with all the emotions coming from the tall monarch, all the emotions he kept hidden from everyone. There was so much worry and fear over something, anger at an unknown source, anger at himself for messing something up, but most of all, there was something that Quatre couldn't put a name to…something that he recognized in himself. It was so bright and warm, banishing all thoughts of doubt and worry away from the blond's mind…it was love.

Quatre snapped his eyes open, vaguely aware that he had not even felt them close, and looked back at Trowa…not the prince, or his Highness…just Trowa. Those green eyes were filled with anxiety and, even though the mask covered his face, Quatre was sure he was going to give himself wrinkles with his expression. He wanted, no needed, an answer, but Quatre didn't know how to voice what he was feeling…words just didn't seem to come. So, he opted to show him; he leaned forward and tilted his head slightly so that his lips brushed against the taller man's lightly, trying to convey everything that he felt with that one brief touch. He would trust Trowa in this and not because of the warning of disaster the tall man gave him, but because he finally understood that unknown feeling swimming inside his subconscious for the past three weeks.

He would trust this man because he had asked him to…and that's what you did when you were in love.

Quatre pulled away almost as soon as their lips touched and looked up at the startled expression on Trowa's face, despite the mask covering half of it. The grip on his arms slackened and Quatre felt for one terrible moment that he had perhaps reacted wrongly, maybe read the emotions wrong for once in his life, but the soft look that replaced the alarm first shown in the emerald green orbs erased those fears as soon as they had come. The blond felt one of the hands resting around his arm drift up and closed his eyes as he felt fingertips ghost across his cheek and then brush strands of his golden hair out of his face. He opened his eyes when he felt the other hand drift down and wrap around his waist, pulling him inches away from Trowa again.

"Would it be all right if I kissed you, Quatre?" Trowa asked in a quiet voice, his mouth centimeters away from the blond's. Quatre rolled his eyes at the question internally, but another part of him was thrilled by it.

"Yes, a thousand times yes, Trowa" Quatre answered in a husky tone that he hardly recognized as his. His eyes drifted close again on instinct as two warm and insistent lips pressed against his own, his arms wrapping around the taller man's neck as one of Trowa's hand cradled his neck and the other pulled their bodies together. Quatre shivered despite the warm weather, the feeling of Trowa's lips on his own so wonderful he thought his heart might burst.

Quatre felt something smooth and wet press against his lips and he opened his mouth, meeting Trowa's tongue with his own with a contented sigh. He had kissed before for sure, and had done a little more than kiss once or twice, but nothing he had ever felt compared to kissing Trowa. It was as if every place the brunet touched with his hands was on fire and everything was completely new, being reawakened. He tasted like mint and the warm breeze of the woods…it was like kissing the wild. They paused once or twice to get a breath when they needed one, but always met back together in a flurry of motion that ranged from sweet and tender to fast and urgent. It was by no means chaste, but it wasn't too much more than either were perhaps ready for…it was meant to be what it was and that was perfect for them; this night was perfect for them, Quatre mused as he continued to allow his mouth to be plundered and responded in kind.

Eventually, for another bout of air and because it was getting quite late, they pulled away from each other enough to put a halt to the kiss. Quatre rested his forehead against Trowa's throat for a moment, smiling when he felt a chin rest on top of his head. For once in his life, Quatre was happy he wasn't tall. He pulled his head away so he could look into those green eyes, which now seemed to be sparkling with a life that the blond hadn't seen there before. He smiled softly and rested his forehead against the chin that had been resting on his head.

"_Shukran,_ Trowa," he whispered in his native tongue, pulling away and laughing lightly at the confused look in Trowa's eyes. Before he could even ask the question, Quatre translated for him. "It means 'thank you' in my native tongue…thank you, Trowa."

"What for?" Trowa asked as he laced his fingers through the blonde's and started to walk them back towards the manor, a slight hint of amusement evident in his pitch.

"Thank you for trusting me," Quatre replied with a grin. "And…and thank you for loving me…and for letting me love you."

Quatre almost laughed out loud when thought he saw Trowa nearly trip when he said the last part, but let it slide as the prince continued on as if nothing had happened. The hand around his tightened and tugged him closer, something the blond was eager to oblige…he felt safe and complete when near this silent young man. No more words were needed as they walked back to the manor, they knew and the words would come later. For now, they would just continue to learn and not worry about what the future might bring. They had love…what more did they need?

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Edited chapter for structure, clarity, and grammar. Enjoy!


	5. Chapter 5

Candlelight (5/?)

Author: Osco

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xS

Rating: R

Warnings: Lemony goodness, violence, language, magical happenings, and ugly Trolls trying to ruin the story!

Summary: Retelling of the fairy tale, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" GW style. What if you made a mistake? What if the person you loved had to pay the price? How far would you go to save him? How about a place that can't exist?!

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I am but a poor college student who has no hold over the characters whatsoever and is doing this as a pastime.

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**Chapter Five:**_** Checkmate**_

As time passed by, Quatre was beginning to wonder why he had ever questioned coming here when he first arrived.

True, it had surprised the blond youth how fast he had become accustomed to life here in the Tria Colonies, but the fact that didn't bother him was even stranger. When he had first arrived here, he had subconsciously vowed that he would hate it here, no matter how nice and personable the people may be, for taking him away from his home and family. But that feeling seemed to have been erased. In some ways, it was so like Araaban and in others it was so different; the difference was that he no longer found the difference so alien. He found it intoxicating. Everything about this strange kingdom, which was linked to four others, had grown on him…most of all the idea that he was going to be married to the prince of the province.

He did love Trowa, very much in fact, and he didn't care if it all seemed to happen so suddenly. His feelings and Trowa's didn't lie, he could tell, and for once in his life, Quatre felt like he was finally where he belonged. Not to say he didn't think he never belonged with his family in his homeland, because he did and was proud to be a son of Arabaan, but here it was different. His family had accepted him for what he was, but it was harder for others too…they only saw a little boy who knew too much about the world and who seemed to know what everyone was feeling. He never had many friends growing up; his father and sisters called him precocious but his schoolmates called him strange.

But here, here he was able to be just himself, and no one judged him because of it. It was a nice feeling, and the blond reveled in it. He was enjoying it even now as he strolled down the marketplace of Blume with Sally Po; he never could have had this if he had remained in Araaban. He missed his family still, and he wondered how they were doing, but he knew they would want him to be happy…and he was happy here with Trowa and everyone else. He smiled at his own thoughts, wondering when he had become such a sap, and focused his thoughts back to the present and Sally haggling with a local vendor over the price of some moongrass. He had asked what moongrass was once, and had only listened up until the healer talked about how it relieved cramps before hastily retreating. He may be understanding and whatnot, but there was a line…and Sally seemed to know how to tweak it with everyone.

"…twenty credits for the bushel and that's final," Sally replied to whatever the vendor had offered in a tone that brooked no argument. Quatre couldn't help but laugh as he saw the disgruntled look on the merchant's face as he agreed to the price, and stifling said laughter behind his hand didn't seem to help any as the vendor shot him an annoyed look. Sally shook her head as she finished her transaction and grabbed Quatre's arm with her free hand, directing the two expertly through the streets of Blume towards yet another apothecary shop. Quatre vaguely wondered if the enigmatic healer would find what she needed here, as it was the fifth apothecary they had stopped in that day, and hoped that they did; he was starting to get tired and didn't want to fall asleep when Trowa came calling later that night.

"Sally," the blond said in an amused tone as she ushered him into a store named 'Barge's Potions and Herbs.' "Please tell me what you're at least looking for so I can help you find it instead of just standing here. If it's something to annoy Wufei with, I promise to not mention anything to him…"

"Hah," Sally barked out as she rifled through the shelves of the shop, pausing every now and then to read a label. "You remind me of Duo sometimes…it's nothing that Wufei can't know about. It's just something specific I need…"

"Well, regardless, is there any reason why you can't tell me what it is?"

"No," Sally responded, ignoring the curious look the blond was giving her. "I just haven't told you…it really doesn't concern you anyway, Quatre. It's just a little something special for a project I'm working on."

Quatre shot the healer a dubious look before turning his attention away from the searching woman to look at some potions that claimed to re-grow hair as a cure to premature balding. True to his word, Quatre hadn't asked about why Trowa had to wear a mask or what he did during the day like the prince had asked him too, and he knew in heart that it didn't matter. However, it was slightly annoying to know that everyone seemed to be in on some huge secret and he wasn't let in on it. To say it bothered him would be a huge understatement. He never counted himself to be a person for gossip, or nosy like some of his sisters were, but he couldn't help but wonder what everyone knew that he didn't. He found himself scowling a little at the potions as his thoughts continue to spread through his mind, but was startled out of it by a victorious whoop coming from Sally across the store.

"Yes!" she exclaimed with a huge grin on her face, holding a glass jar in her hand that was filled with, what looked like to Quatre, sparkling blue dust. Quatre walked over to where Sally was standing near the owner, handing over credits without a minute of bargaining…that left Quatre with a shocked expression. For the three months that he had known this woman, she never bought anything without negotiating the price first; whatever was in that jar must have been important to her. He opened his mouth to ask what was in the jar, but let out a surprised yelp as the healer yanked him out of the store; she somehow always managed to grab hold of his arm even though she was carrying more than a few packages and parcels of goods.

"Sally?" Quatre asked as the healer practically dragged him back to their coach. A puzzled look marred his expression as he glanced back and forth between the tall woman and her bags. "I'm assuming you happened to find what you were looking for?"

"You bet your little ass I did!" she exclaimed. She pushed the still stunned blond into the coach, ignoring the reproachful look he gave her as she clambered in after him. She rummaged though her bags for a few moments before seizing the glass pot and holding it up for the blond to see. She was still so exhilarated by her success that she didn't take notice of the confused look on her companion's face. "Do you know how long I've been looking for this? Of course you don't, you only arrived a few moons ago, but I'm just happy someone from Taurus finally decided to come to Tria Colonies! I thought I'd actually have to go there myself to get some of this…"

Quatre simply stared at the healer as she rambled on about, well, about whatever that blue dust was. He had never seen her act like this before…it was like she was one of his sisters and getting excited over a new lord in town. He let her blather on for another few minutes, she obviously was very excited and would have just ignored any of his questions anyway, before he cleared his throat loudly and asked bluntly, "That's wonderful Sally but…what exactly is it?"

The healer swiveled around and fixed her blue eyes on his own, covering up her surprise with a grin and holding the jar right up to his face. "This," she began in her usual voice…it seemed her giddiness had subsided for the moment. "Is a wonderful little powder called 'Night's Tears,' and it's made from the Blue Night Jasmine, a rare little flower that only blossoms once every full moon. The flower's rare because it only grows in one place, the outer most cliffs of the Elven city, Taurus, and this powder is even rarer due to its difficulty to make. I've been out of this for nearly two years, mortal time of course, and I was beginning to feel frustrated at not being able to find it."

"Oh," Quatre responded. He looked at the strange little powder for another moment before looking back up into the smiling blue irises. "What does it do? Can it heal any wound or something?"

"Ah, no," Sally said as her grin faded off her face and she slipped the jar back into one of her bags, careful to tuck it out of sight Quatre noticed. "It actually doesn't have anything to do with healing…it can create a protective barrier around estates that protect against spell craft and any unwanted seer's looking in though. Very expensive, very powerful…nothing gets through this stuff."

"Well I suppose that's useful," Quatre stated in a logical tone as the coach pulled to a stop outside Tria Manor. He waited a few moments as he helped Sally carry her purchases, waving off some of the servants' protests that he let them carry them for him, towards the little hut she kept all her herbs in the gardens before speaking up again. "But, who do you need to ward off against?"

"Everyone has their enemies," Sally answered vaguely. She opened the doors to her hut, walking off before Quatre could respond to her mysterious reply. By the time he caught up to her in her kitchen, she already seemed to engrossed in what she was doing to answer any questions he might have…he filed the reason behind the blue powder as another one of those taboo topics he wasn't supposed to talk about. There were starting to be too many of those.

Choosing to swallow his annoyance at the situation, Quatre decided to ask Sally something else. "Sally, you mentioned that I reminded you of someone in the apothecary today…Duo or something. Who's that?"

Sally looked over her shoulder from putting away herbs to smile at the blonde affectionately before turning back around. "Oh…he's just a friend of Trowa's. I haven't seen him in awhile…not since Prince Heero's majority…but he was a fun guy. He seemed to love antagonizing Fei."

"Woman," a voice interrupted from the kitchen entrance. Both sets of blue eyes to look up into black ones, and Quatre gave Wufei a small smile, which the arms master returned with a nod, before turning back to Sally, who had just sent her husband a smirk before returning to her work. "What have I told you about that name?"

"That you hate it with the passion of a fire-breathing dragon," Sally responded with a laugh. "And find it dishonorable to your family's pride to have your name degraded in such a fashion. But come on Wufei!" Sally had now turned around and was standing before the annoyed looking man with her hands on her hips. "At least it's better than 'Wuffers.'"

"Damn it, woman!" Wufei exclaimed. He sent a scowl towards the smirking healer, a slight tinge of pink coating his ears. "I thought I told you to never utter that one again!"

"You did, but Duo's names are pretty catchy, Fei," Sally said with a laugh. She crossed over and placed a kiss on her husband's cheek, patting it before she returned to her cupboards. Wufei sent his wife a rare, gentle look before stomping off; he was muttering something about "bakas" and how someone called "Maxwell" would pay for the injustice. Quatre sent a questioning look to the back of Sally's head, which she must of sensed because she answered almost instantly. "Duo and Wufei never really saw eye to eye on things…I suppose that was to be expected though, considering."

"Considering what?" Quatre asked as he helped Sally put the last of the herbs away and sitting down at the table with her afterwards.

"Oh…I suppose you wouldn't know," Sally said with a sigh. She sank down into her chair with a relieved sigh, flexing her fingers a few times, making them pop aloud. "Duo's an Elf…Elves are quite different from Humans in certain respects…the biggie[ probably being social interaction. They don't acknowledge the existence of tact for another thing and are usually much more in tune with nature than we are. Duo's a famous bard who came to the Colony kingdoms to perform for Heero's majority. He actually used to live here in the Colonies, back when Sanq was still separated from the colonies and the Deux Colonies still existed, so I think he didn't mind coming back. You would have liked him…he was very funny and laid-back, even in court."

"Is he dead or something?" Quatre asked.

"No," Sally answered with a sad smile. "No, he's fine as far as I know. He just probably won't be coming back anytime soon because of an argument he and the prince of Sive had. Stupid, stubborn jack ass…"

"Duo?"

"No, Heero. I'm sure you'll meet him eventually though, whenever he manages to drift back this way. He's a good friend of Trowa's, and Wufei does in fact consider him a friend, despite what it may look like. He would like you…"

Sally trailed off and got up to get and Quatre a cup of tea, grumbling about having to answer so many questions from a certain nosy blond. Quatre just grinned at the jibe though; he had grown accustomed to Sally's odd sense of humor over the past few months. She returned with his cup and sat down with her own after handing him his…she took a sip and looked over at the blond, signaling it was okay for him to ask his next question. She always seemed to know…

"What happened to the Deux Colonies?" Quatre asked as he swirled his tea around in his cup. "Heero never mentioned them when he talked about the Colony kingdoms…was it destroyed?"

"No, they just sort of dissolved their own nation," Sally responded with a speculative look on her face. "Decided to leave and let Sanq, a neighboring country staged to be incorporated into the Colony kingdoms, take over. The Peacecraft family tried to convince the Elves to stay, but they seemed unmovable on their decision…that's another thing about Elves, once they've made up their minds, they stick to their decision."

"Elves?" Quatre asked, almost dropping his cup in surprise, his eyes wide. "Elves lived there? But, why…I mean, how did they…?"

"I'm going to just give you a brief history lesson, Quatre," Sally interrupted with a laugh, setting down her cup and resting her chin in one of her propped up hands. "It's just a fraction of the history surrounding the Colony Kingdoms, but it will probably help you understand the Colony kingdoms better. So way back when, there were five kingdoms and each was ruled by a royal family, three of which are still around today. Sive, Tria, and Quinque were each ruled by humans, while Deux was ruled by elves…Quattuon was unique. Their ruling family was very much human but they were a bit different…they were in tune with the wild magic that runs all through the Colony Kingdoms. So, these five kingdoms were very well known in Fey and were very powerful, and they were unified under the leadership of the Quattuon royal family.

"But then, around close to four hundred years ago, the Quattuon royal family just disappeared. Well, disappeared is a rather loose term because most of the family was assassinated through spell craft, but the youngest daughter of the ruling king wasn't listed among the casualties…she just disappeared. It was pretty much a chaotic mess after that disaster, and the Colony kingdoms each went through some pretty drastic changes…one of those was the shift of power in Deux. There were many ruling families in Deux, and they each served as a sort of royal council to the 'official' ruling family…it was unusual, but than again most things Elves do are unusual to Humans. After over a hundred years of tensed relations between the Colonies, a few very important council families were assassinated by an unknown force…it crippled the already struggling Colony Kingdoms.

"So, Deux pretty much decided to secede their land to Sanq, a country that preached total pacifism, in an effort to stabilize the five Colonies. Sanq accepted and they did help the Colonies settle down. The people of the Deux Colonies pretty much left and retreated deep into the Fey where most of the Elven cities are…later Quinque would decree that their ruling family would step down from their position to help further rebuild the broken ties between the Colonies. So, what we have now is this: both Sive and Tria are still ruled by their royal families but the monarchs are 'chosen' in a kind of ceremony instead of being based on blood, Quinque monarchs, like Wufei, are scattered throughout the Colonies while their homeland is ruled by a council. Quattuon as a council of leaders from each city that rule with the people's approval, and Deux no longer exists; that leaves the Peacecraft family ruling their lands in addition to taking their spot in the Colony kingdoms. Any questions?"

Quatre stared for a moment, trying to assimilate all of the history he was just given. It was an awful lot to take in, and he was brimming with questions, but opted to only ask one to not trouble Sally any further. "Uh, only one…why doesn't Quattuon just elect a new monarch or something…then the Colony kingdoms could reunite like they did and there wouldn't be any problems."

"They believe fiercely that the surviving family members, who as I mentioned, includes the crown princess, will return to them," Sally answered with a shrug. "Because the princess, and some of her warriors, just disappeared, the people of Quattuon believe they survived and her descendents live as well, in hiding."

"Oh," Quatre said softly as he finished the last of his tea. It seemed so sad, the history of these linked countries, and he wished that they still weren't suffering. But, he knew they were…he could feel it radiating from Sally even though she was smiling brightly. He was so lost in his thoughts, yet again, that he didn't hear Sally calling his name until she shook his wrist a little. "I'm sorry Sally…what did you ask?"

"I asked if you're happy here Quatre?" Sally asked with a rare, serious look on her face. He was taken aback by the blunt question, but she seemed genuine…she wanted truth.

"Yes I am, Sally," Quatre answered with a sincere smile. He wished he could let Sally know how he felt…she seemed worried about his answer. "I do miss my family, and I miss Araaban sometimes, but I love it here. I mean, Tria as kind of become my home now and I could never leave any of you!"

"You mean you couldn't leave Trowa," Sally said with a gleam in her eyes, grinning at the blush he felt covering his cheeks.

"Well, yes," Quatre admitted with a grin of his own. He laughed at the triumphant look on the honey blonde's face. "I really do love him Sally…I don't think there was a moment since meeting him that I didn't. Everything about him is just…I don't even think I can describe it Sally. I just know that he's the one I had always been looking for; it's strange that I almost said no, right?"

"Strange indeed!" Sally answered with a laugh. She reached across the table to ruffle the blond's golden hair. She smiled at the indignant look that flashed across the his handsome face, giving a silent thanks to the spirits for sending this young man to them. "Lucky for us, and you I suspect, that you decided to come against your better judgment, eh?" She just laughed harder at the blush that seemed to darken the boy's pale complexion…it was too easy sometimes. When she sobered up a bit, Sally redirected her questions back to what she had originally planned to ask. "Anyway…tell me a bit about what you did back home; you hardly ever say anything about that."

"Well, there's not too much to say really," Quatre replied as he brushed a stray lock of hair out of his face. "I didn't have a lot of time as I got older…I had to help my father support the family and all. When I did have a moment, I practiced with my Uncle Hamir, you already know that…he's a strange, old man…"

"Oh come on," Sally whined, fixing the blond with her best begging look. He wasn't the only one with a pout who knew how to use it. "There must have been something else other than sword play you enjoyed! What about hobbies or things you did and just loved?"

"Well," Quatre began with a slight smile and contemplative look. "I was pretty good at chess…very good in fact. My father couldn't beat me after I turned nine. And music I guess; I've always loved music, playing it, listening…"

"Well, I know you are, as I have heard you sing," Sally said in a joking manner. "What do you play?"

"Violin," Quatre replied with a wistful smile. "My mother actually played piano, and my sister Iria can play that, but I never really had the right touch. I love playing violin though…my father had to sell his, the one I played on, when I was ten and it wasn't until I turned fifteen that I got a new one from my Uncle Hamir…but I left that behind in Arabaan, for something my sister's could keep as a keepsake of me. Why the twenty questions though Sally?"

"No reason," Sally quipped with a sinister looking smile. When she smiled like that, it unnerved the blond deeply. "Oh my, would you look at the time! It's almost dusk…you better hurry up and get ready to meet with the prince. Go on, shoo!" Sally hauled an astounded Quatre and proceeded to drag him out of her hut, that smile never leaving her face all the while. She gave out a laugh as she tossed him out, the affronted look on his face to priceless to be duplicated, and shut the door, giggling at the mumbling he was doing as he presumably marched back up towards his quarters in the manner. She never understood a word he said when he switched to his native tongue, but she knew that 'innocent' blond was probably putting a few sailors from Aries to shame in his annoyance. He really was too adorable sometimes.

"I assume you discovered what you needed?" Wufei asked from behind her, a smirk playing on his lips as he wrapped his arms around her. "Otherwise you wouldn't have tossed him out so quickly…"

"You could say that," Sally murmured as she wrapped her arms around her husband's neck. "Although, I should probably go and share my information with our favorite, love-stuck prince…think you can be patient for a bit longer?"

"Woman," Wufei growled as he ran a hand down the healer's back. "You made me wait all throughout Winner's endless questions…not to mention Maxwell's infuriating and degrading names…"

"Then a bit longer won't kill you," Sally said lovingly as she pressed a chaste kiss against his mouth, pulling out of his embrace and giggling at his growl. "Let me play Cupid for one more night and then I swear that you'll have my undivided attention."

"Stupid woman," Wufei muttered with a smile.

"Stubborn man," Sally replied as she headed out the door and towards the Manor.

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Quatre was late.

He knew he would be, he had been scolded by Hilde the moment he had arrived back in his room, and later S had made some comment about how it was quite late already as he hurried down towards the gardens. He was going to get his revenge on Sally later, he had decided as he paced outside the gazebo in the gardens…and it would be painful. Of course he knew that his meaning of pain would probably mean a rather messy prank, he had learned from the best in his twin sisters Shaara and Maya.

He was starting to feel like maybe Trowa had decided not to show up, wiping his nervous hands on his black pants, and he started to feel bad that he had asked Sally all those questions. It really wasn't her fault he had pressed for answers. He let out a frustrated sigh and turned his blue eyes upwards, spotting the first star in the sky amidst the orange and pink clouds. He was about to go and sit by the lake and wait a bit longer when he felt something slip over his eyes, making the world go black. He wasn't scared though…he smiled and interlocked his hands with those turning him around.

"You don't seem that surprised," a deep voice said in a cool tone. Even though the normal person couldn't tell, Quatre knew that Trowa was a little disappointed he hadn't surprised him a little more.

"I knew it was you," Quatre answered simply. He squeezed the taller man's hands. The black cloth over his eyes wasn't uncomfortable, but it made him a bit wary…he had never liked the idea of losing his sight. He took a deep breath and focused in on Trowa, on the stream of affection and love he felt from him.

"Do you trust me, Quatre?" Trowa asked, humor laced lightly in his tone as he began to tug the blond away from the gardens.

"Yes," Quatre answered. His lips quirked up in a smile and he allowed Trowa's hands to lead him. He felt lips close over his for a brief moment before tugging away, hands leading him somewhere unknown. It was exhilarating, putting this much trust into someone…as a child he had played this game with his sisters. They would close their eyes and fall back, trusting the others to catch them…and for those few moments of weightlessness, you worried whether or not they would. They did though, and something that couldn't be broken passed between them…that was what he felt passing between him and Trowa now.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going?" Quatre asked as he felt the cool air from the Manor hit him…at least he knew they were inside now. He could hear, as well as feel, the laughter coming from the other man…every time that sound came from Trowa it was beautiful to the blond. He felt like he was privileged to hear it.

"No," the other answered in a mysterious tone.

"This isn't for being late is it?" Quatre asked with a laugh as Trowa began to lead him up some flight of stairs. It was awkward and Quatre nearly tripped a few times, but Trowa never let him fall. "Because it was all Sally's fault if it is."

"No," was all the answer he received.

"Are you going to stop answering monosyllabically?" Quatre deadpanned. His eyes narrowed in mock annoyance even though the other couldn't see them.

"No."

Quatre heaved a sigh before laughing lightly…Trowa was a very witty young man whenever he felt so inclined. It was rare that the green-eyed prince ever really opened up, Quatre didn't need to know him longer than a few months to know that, and it was refreshing whenever he acted like this…spontaneous and unpredictable; exciting. They finished their ascent and Quatre was glad to be led forward on level ground once more, the continuous stepping had made him disoriented. He was led blindly for another minute or so in silence when he was stopped, the sound of doors opening ahead of him filling his ears.

"I'm going to take the blindfold off now," Trowa whispered in his ear, hands already untying the knot at the back of the blonde's head. "Can you promise me to keep your eyes closed until I say?"

"Of course," Quatre smirked. Trowa steered him from behind a few more paces before stopping him…the hands left and the sound of a door being shut occupied his remaining senses. There were a few moments of silence before Quatre spoke up. "Now can I open them?"

"Now," Trowa said. Quatre could feel the anticipation rolling off the prince in waves. Quatre did so with a grin, only to have it melt into a surprised 'oh' with what met his widened eyes.

It was a music conservatory…a beautiful room that had music sheets framed on the walls and stunning instruments filling open cabinets all along the left wall. He had never seen so many musical pieces in one place in his entire life…Quatre found it a little overwhelming. He was so wrapped up in his own astonishment that he didn't notice Trowa smile and make his way over towards the string cabinet. It wasn't until Quatre felt something pushed into his hands did he look up and out of his reverie to be met with sparkling jade eyes the shade of the forest. The blond looked down and felt his breath hitch of its own accord; he was holding an exquisitely crafted violin made of cherry-wood with runic symbols drawn in with a golden ink. It was silly, he chided himself as he stared at the instrument resting in his hands, to get choked up over something like this, and yet, here he was, nearly in tears over a violin. But, it wasn't just a violin…

"How…how did you…?" Quatre started to say, raising his ocean blue depths back to look into the green ones shown beneath the mask.

"A little bird told informed me that you had loved music as a child," Trowa answered. "And, how you had been unable to pursue it as you got older in order to help your family…it must have been hard, to give up something you cared for so much. And, since I know you left the your violin in Araaban with your sisters, I thought you could use a new one. I want you to feel free to use this room any time you wish…and I was hoping you'd indulge me with a little contest tonight."

Quatre was starting to regain is senses and nodded with a soft smile as Trowa motioned towards a modest looking dinner set up on a small table in the room. Next to the table, on an even smaller one, was a chess set of onyx and marble all set up and ready to be played…he shot the tall prince a look of intrigue as he followed Trowa's lead and sat down on a cushion opposite him on the floor before the dinner table. It was all very intimate, Quatre thought with a smile…this was turning out to be a very interesting night. He set down the magnificent looking violin on an unused cushion nearby him and fixed the prince with a questioning look.

"The challenge is this," Trowa said quietly as he smirked at the blond across from him. "Best two of three in chess wins the right to hear the loser perform a song, do you accept?"

The blond felt his lips curling into a sly grin as he nodded his head. If the prince thought he was going to go easy on him, he had another thing coming! "I do…I just hope you're aware that I haven't lost a game of chess since I was twelve."

"Well it will be interesting then," Trowa responded simply before eating. While Quatre found that smirk Trowa possessed incredibly attractive, he was a tad wary all of a sudden. It seemed that Trowa was positive he'd win this contest, Quatre could feel it, and that meant he'd have to prove the prince wrong.

Dinner seemed to be over before it began, and without further contemplation, both young men dove into the game, Quatre taking the marble while Trowa took the onyx. After the first game, Quatre was surprised to discover that the green-eyed prince was every bit as good as he was, narrowly winning with a spectacular move Quatre didn't see coming. He grinned and made sure to smash the prince the next round, smirking whenever those green eyes would widen slightly at the boldness and ruthlessness of Quatre's moves. With the score tied, both entered the final game with a determined mindset to beat the other…which only made their draw more humorous at the end of the game.

"Well," Quatre said with a laugh as he leaned back and shot the prince a smile. "It looks like we tied after all…"

"Then we both play something," Trowa responded. He rose to his feet and tugged the blond up after him, leading him back to the violin he had set down.

Quatre gave a small smile as he took the violin from Trowa's hands, trying to quell the nervousness he felt as the tall prince walked over to the cabinet and uncased a silver flute. He knew that Trowa had listened to him play before, as the letter he had first received had been addressed that way, but those times Quatre didn't know he had been watching. Now, with that expectant feeling rolling off the masked man, Quatre suddenly felt inadequate and shy…he really wasn't that great. Only his family and Uncle Hamir had heard him play…they hardly counted as critics.

"I'm a bit rusty," Quatre said with a nervous smile as the prince stopped across from him, a patient look in his eyes as he surveyed the blonde before him. "And, to be honest, I really haven't had any formal training so I'm probably not that gre--"

Quatre felt himself silenced by a pair of soft lips and couldn't stop the goofy grin from spreading across his face when the prince pulled back, one hand cupping his cheek and smoothing his thumb across the cheekbone in a comforting gesture. Quatre looked up into the green eyes and felt something flutter inside at the way Trowa was looking at him…wordlessly urging him to play. So, Quatre obliged, tucking the instrument under his chin, readying the bow, and taking a deep breath.

The song Quatre choose to play wasn't terribly complex, just a simple Araaban lullaby, but there was nothing simple about the way he played it. He threw his whole soul into the music, playing the tune with his own inflection to make it his own, sending the crisp melody throughout the room and wrapping around he and the prince like a bubble. Soon, Quatre could hear clear, pure notes accompany his own, and opened his eyes to see that Trowa had started playing a counter melody that blended seamlessly with his own. He smiled and closed his teal eyes once more, letting the music flow through him and swaying his body in time with the music they were creating. He could feel the pure warmth of Trowa's love seeping into him as their music rose to a crescendo and when they both played the final notes, Quatre opened his eyes to see that he and the prince were barely inches apart.

They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, a nameless and formless heat passing between them as they stared into the other's eyes. Neither one knew which had dropped their instrument first, just like neither really knew who had closed the distance before the other, and none of that seemed to matter as their lips found each other's and kissed furiously. Trowa wrapped his arms around Quatre's slender form, one hand cradling his chin and neck while the other was pressing the blond as close to his body as possible. Quatre weaved one hand through the prince's cinnamon hair while the other clutched onto a shoulder for some sense of balance against the maddening rush of feelings flooding him. Every part of his body that Trowa touched seemed to send sparks of fire up his spine; Quatre let out a soft moan as the prince's tongue slid into his mouth.

The first thing to go was the dark blue vest the blond had on, followed by the brunet's jerkin, their lips only separating for a moment before meeting again, even more fervently than before. Quatre felt a hand roam underneath his loose tunic, igniting a fire on his skin wherever they spread. Trowa's lips left the blond's and traveled down his neck, licking and nipping until he settled on the junction between the neck and collarbone, alternating sucking and biting the skin to make sure he left a mark. It seemed like all the dancing around they had done around before now had finally broken, exploding now and neither was willing to stop now.

Quatre let himself be guided back until the back of his knees hit the edge of something soft, causing him to tumble back onto a spare futon, bringing Trowa down on top of him. Their lips met again, slower than the last time, and Quatre laced his hands behind Trowa's neck, desperate to get the man as close to him as possible. He didn't know that this would ever feel as incredible as it did, his knowledge of sex primarily coming from gossip his sisters talked about and his Uncle H's perverted sense of humor, but now he didn't know how he had ever gone so long without it. Every touch Trowa gave him sent a fiery coil of pleasure straight to his stomach and then lower, causing him arch into Trowa's talented fingers as they opened his shirt and played with the hardened pink nubs underneath.

Trowa's lips came down on his again, plunging his tongue into Quatre's waiting mouth, muffling the gasp and soft mewl that the blond emitted as those hands traced lower, stopping at his black breeches and resting on his hips. Trowa pulled back and gazed into Quatre's face, breathing heavily and a wondering look in his eyes. "You're absolutely beautiful, Quatre Winner," Trowa whispered against the blond's lips, resting his forehead against the blond's.

"You are too," Quatre gasped back as those hands started to trace his heated skin, one daring to loosen the ties of his breeches and tease the sensitive skin beneath.

"You've never seen my face," Trowa whispered, his covered face betraying his feelings of uncertainty and sadness, the emotions leaking into Quatre, causing the blond to scowl and grab for Trowa's hands.

"Doesn't matter," Quatre replied with a small smile, gently kissing the side of Trowa's left hand, eyes glittering with love as he looked back into Trowa's passion clouded eyes. "I can see your soul, Trowa Barton…and it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Quatre tugged Trowa's head down to capture the prince's lips once more, but let out an annoyed sigh when the prince pulled back again.

"Not here…" Trowa said as he rose from the futon, his erection causing a noticeable bulge in the front of his pants. He pulled Quatre into his arms, urging the blond to wrap his legs around the taller youth's slender waist, and hoisted them both off the futon. Trowa staggered for a moment before he leaned his body back slightly, balancing both of their body weight enough to not strain himself. Quatre let out a strangled giggle as Trowa led them out of the room into a side room, a lavish quarter that Quatre knew was the prince's bedchamber (the lack of décor gave it away); Trowa's lips closed over his, slipping his tongue into the blond's mouth again…and again. The room was only lit by a soft candle next to the large bed, a bed which Quatre was lowered onto moments later, his shirt and breeches being taken off and tossed aside. Moments later, Quatre had returned the favor, wrapping his legs around Trowa's bare form and groaning when those lips found that spot on his neck that sent shivers down his spine. Then, Trowa pulled away, a determined look on his face as he gazed down at the blond.

"Trowa…what are you--?"

"I'm not making love with this mask on," Trowa whispered as he leaned over and blew out the lone candle, casting the room in darkness. Quatre felt a flash of unease flow through him at not being able to see, but he forced it to subside as Trowa's weight settled over his body, one hand guiding Quatre's leg up and around his waist while the other wrapped around the blond's cock, eliciting an impassioned cry. Quatre's hands drifted up and down Trowa's broad back, drifting to cup his now bare face and bring it down to his own, hot breath tickling across the green-eyed prince's cheek as he pressed butterfly kisses anywhere his lips could reach.

Hands touched and slipped across heated, slick skin, drawing out groans from both young men as the continued their fiery dance, lips dancing across each other and murmuring exhalations only the other could hear. Quatre kept feeling the pressure growing in his groin and belly, a coil springing tighter and tighter around itself as Trowa continued to touch him. It wasn't until he felt a finger probing at his small entrance did the pleasure wan and it was discomfort that made him tense, pull back slightly, blindly trying to find Trowa's eyes. The act that everything was moving incredibly fast reared its head in his mind.

"Trowa?" Quatre asked in an uncertain voice. He wasn't scared and it wasn't like he didn't want this but…he hadn't done this before. He was anxious, excited, but anxious nonetheless. If this was going to happen…

"I—I'm sorry, Cat. Do you want to stop?"

Quatre froze and warred within himself for a moment…did he want to stop? He closed his eyes and reached out, tentatively, to Trowa…he could feel all of it. Trowa, while not his first time doing this (to Quatre's slight disappointment), was just as nervous, just as anxious and excited as he was…he smiled and pulled Trowa back down on him, shaking his head into Trowa's shoulder…no, he didn't want this to stop. Trowa's elation almost made Quatre giggle as it filled him up, his hand going back to its previous probing. Quatre frowned and willed his body to relax.

"It'll get better, love_,"_ Trowa whispered as he probed deeper, easing up when he heard Quatre whimper lightly ( much to blond's chagrin). "Please, just relax and trust me."

"I do, _muHibb_," Quatre murmured as two fingers started to gently stretch him. He was able to relax enough that the pain dulled to an ache…maybe this wasn't so bad, but it was just two fingers. Quatre was pretty sure that Trowa's cock was bigger than that and he didn't know if---"By Allah, Trowa!" Quatre gasped put as those fingers curled around something deep inside him, something that made lit whole body aflame with pleasure and leaving him panting as he arched into that touch. A third finger stretched him as well, and while it did burn, Quatre was shaking in want, he wanted Trowa so bad.

"Trowa," Quatre whispered harshly as those fingers withdrew and the taller youth positioned himself at the puckered entrance. "I'm ready…please_, _love, please hit that spot ag-ah-ain."

"As you wish, _mon chier,"_ Trowa groaned. He plunged in, slowly, locking his arms underneath Quatre's legs to gain more leverage and slide in at an angle that would hit the blond's prostate every time. He was so gentle, Quatre thought, so careful to listen to Quatre's breathing, read his touches in the darkness. Quatre knew it wouldn't feel that great at first, and to a point he was correct, it felt like something was trying to fit into a space that wasn't large enough to accommodate, foreign and odd…but it felt good too. Trowa made sure it felt good as well…and he gasped as Trowa pushed against that spot again…it hurt but that was part of it, it had to hurt to feel so incredible.

When Trowa started to move, the thrusts were slow, the prince not daring to move any faster and risk hurting Quatre, but they gradually sped up as the blond urging him with soft cries and whispered endearments in his native tongue. It was absolute heaven, the heat between them that kept building and building…much like their duet earlier. It was the same, Quatre mused as Trowa pushed harder and harder into his body, reaching for their climax. Trowa's hand reached between them and teased Quatre's straining member, heightening everything to another level Quatre wasn't sure he could handle. He opened up his mind and reached out to feel what Trowa felt, gasping at the fierce flame that was his love wrap around him, sending him over the edge as Trowa thrust in and hit that spot over and over, crying out Trowa's names as the last waves wracked through him. Trowa followed not long after, letting out a loud groan as he spilled his seed inside his blond lover, grateful for the butterfly kisses Quatre was giving him again.

They lay like that, entwined around each other until their breathing calmed down, before Trowa placed a gentle kiss to Quatre's lips and slowly pulled out, tugging a tired, but very content blond into his arms. Trowa placed another kiss, this time on the blond's temple before wrapping his arms around him, not minding the hair tickling his nose as Quatre lay across his chest. He felt Quatre smile against his skin and entwined their hands together…they could clean up later.

"I hadn't intended this to happen until we were married," Trowa began, hoping that Quatre didn't mind they slept together before their wedding…and wouldn't mind doing it again. "But, I'm very, _very _happy it did."

"Me too, _muHibb_," Quatre murmured against Trowa's smooth chest, snuggling his face into the crook of the prince's neck and inhaling the woodland scent that was so uniquely Trowa.

"Trowa?"

"Hum?"

"Promise that'll we'll stay like this…stay with me until the sun rises. I won't ask where you have to go, and it's okay that you do just…just stay here with me until the sun comes up."

"Okay…I promise." And with that, they both drifted off into dreamless sleep, content and whole wrapped in each other's love for the rest of the night.

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Edited chapter for structure, clarity, and grammar. Enjoy!


	6. Chapter 6

Candlelight (6/25ish)

Author: Osco

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xS

Rating: R

Warnings: Lemony goodness, violence, language, magical happenings, and ugly Trolls trying to ruin the story!

Summary: Retelling of the fairy tale, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" GW style. What if you made a mistake? What if the person you loved had to pay the price? How far would you go to save him? How about a place that can't exist?!

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I am but a poor college student who has no hold over the characters whatsoever and is doing this as a pastime.

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**Chapter Six: **_**The Colony Kingdoms**_

Quatre woke up with a groan and rolled over into the now cool, empty space next to him, burying his face into the pillow in an effort to deny the fact that sunlight meant time to get up. He was much too warm and comfortable to entertain the idea of getting up and putting his bare feet on the cold wood floors, and the comforters couldn't walk with him and continue to be his cocoon as he hunted for some of his discarded clothing. However, a sickeningly chirpy morning bird outside the window had other ideas and was chirping his song incessantly, drawing out another groan from the rumpled and thoroughly disgruntled blond young man. He lifted up his head from where it had burrowed into Trowa's pillow, his hair sticking up haphazardly on top of his head, and narrowed two ocean blue eyes at the speckled sparrow in annoyance. He rolled back over, now unquestionably awake and mindful of the absence next to him.

He really should be used to this routine by now, he thought to himself ruefully, running a hand through his messy hair in an attempt to flatten it a bit. It had been close to six months that he had been at Tria Manor and almost seven since he became the betrothed of the reclusive Prince Trowa, and it had been exactly three months since he and Trowa had first slept with each other. And, like clockwork, it had been three months of waking up the next morning with only the sun as company and an overwhelming feeling of regret that always seemed to be left behind, hanging around the room and sticking to Quatre's ever developing empathy like sweat on skin. It was a regret that confused Quatre the morning after that first night, coupling with his loneliness to create a volatile state of mind for most of the day until Sally sat him down, somehow sensing his mood. Now, Quatre understood it clearly; it was the regret of having to leave in the first place, not regret of the action or the love.

Not that knowing made Quatre feel any better, or made the regret less palpable. For that reason, like he had done every morning he woke up in Trowa's bedchambers, Quatre disregarded the cold floors and quickly dressed in the clothes household servants left out for him and hurried back to his own rooms, Hilde waiting for him outside the doors like she always was. He offered a small smile of greeting as they walked back silently to his own rooms, breathing in and out slowly as the foreign regret left his system in each exhale of air, focusing his mind on his own feelings and thoughts. It was a trick Sally had taught him when his empathy continued to grow and strengthen until it had scared him, letting in all sorts of people's feelings and nearly driving him mad. It had been the magic of the Fey, she had told him one night as he sat shaking in her small herbal hut, Wufei hovering off to the side with Cathy and S, Trowa gripping his hand tightly in worry that practically suffocated Quatre at the time. It was unblocking and strengthening his empathy the longer he stayed there, and unless he found an anchor, it would only get worse. With some help, he finally managed to get a decent hold on it, and was even practicing how to use it consciously and block out the cacophony of emotions from everyone else. He knew he had a long way to go, but with some practice, he knew he'd get better.

His head finally cleared as he reached his own rooms, and Quatre smiled at Hilde with more enthusiasm before heading towards his washroom for a much need shower. It still amazed Quatre how the Tria manor, and apparently most of Fey, had pipes made of copper that could carry water anywhere at any temperature. Being able to stand while washing was a definite perk that Tria had over Araaban. All the time that Quatre spent getting clean, his mind mulled over a strange feeling that he was forgetting something…something that was supposed to be important. Something about today. It didn't hit him until he looked at the clothes Hilde had set out for him, the formal and fine quality they had that contrasted the simple pants, shirt and vest combination he usually wore.

"Um, Hilde? What's with the cloths? I don't need to—" He stopped and his eyes widened in realization. "Oh no, it's today, isn't it? All the different rulers from the surrounding Colony kingdoms are coming today?"

"You got it, Quatre," Hilde responded. She had a smile that was entirely too evil for a girl as petite as she was, Quatre decided. She reached for the dark blue shirt and held it in her arms as Quatre hurriedly put on the dark black pants over his underclothes. He hated dressing up in the fancier outfits court required; there were always more complicated fasteners and he was always afraid he'd mess up the fine material with innate clumsiness he had. "And because someone decided he wanted to be an absolute boar when I first came in to wake said person up, we only have a little bit of time before the different processions start showing up."

Quatre groaned as he finished putting on the rest of the clothes, letting, Hilde button up the dark blue shirt in the appropriate manner and then fix the cream colored vest over, fixing his cuffs and sleeves for him. She hurriedly went about finding a matching cloak with the Tria emblem as Quatre stared at his hair futilely, wondering what he could do with it to make him not look so damn young. He had known about this visit for a week, Trowa letting him know that different royal families were coming to Tria to meet the prince's affianced and also to help Trowa with some sort of problem. Trowa hadn't specified what sort of problem, but Quatre could easily figure out it had something to do with the mask and maybe why he woke up every morning surrounded by regret. He wasn't an idiot. And even though Cathy told him not to worry, that it was impossible to not like him, Quatre still couldn't stop the butterflies from fluttering around in his stomach, sometimes feeling like they were going to burst free in a fit of nausea. Trowa was a prince; Quatre didn't want to make him look like a fool in front of his peers.

"All right, now we're talking!" Quatre turned around and saw Hilde rush back over with a cream colored cloak, the Tria emblem etched onto the back in dark stitching that was surrounded by intricate designs. She fixed it around his shoulders, draping it in the correct fashion effortlessly, and then took a step back, surveying him with a critical gleam in her usual playful eyes. She nodded once before grabbing a small pot from within the folds of her dress, smearing a clear kind of paste on her fingers lightly before reaching up and ruffling Quatre's blonde hair softly. He looked at her quizzically but she only laughed at him and assured him to trust her, pushing him out the door into S's waiting body.

"Master Quatre," S said in his ever professional tone. He calmly surveyed Quatre before taking his elbow gently and steering him toward the main foyer. "How are you feeling today?"

"Fine I guess—a little nervous. So, is everyone coming? I mean, every Colony kingdom or…"

"Each will send either representatives or the current ruler," S responded. He positioned Quatre over the main sigil in the entrance, reminding Quatre of the lesson he got a few days past about how he needed to present himself as the prince's betrothed from first glance from the visitors, so no one could dispute his authority. Apparently, this meant he needed to stand directly over the Tria Manor sigil, the same design that was stitched on his cloak, and look confident. S looked over and gave Quatre a kind smile. "Do not worry; I'm sure you will be received fine. You already know Prince Heero and the Lady Relena is quite kind; you will do just fine."

Quatre didn't respond, just let out a deep breath and tried not to fidget or pull at his clothes. They were close fitting and made Quatre self-conscious; he wanted his loose clothing back, at least they were comfortable. He clasped his hands behind his back and stood up straight, wishing that he was just a few inches taller than he was, and waited for S to announce each arrival. Quatre felt Cathy touch his elbow in a comforting gesture, and he looked over at her in surprise; he hadn't even felt her come in; he must be too wrapped in his own thoughts, he thought to himself. She looked beautiful as usual; wearing a simple purple dress with white petticoats and a lavender bodice, white ribbons weaved through her short red hair. He wished he could feel as confident as she looked.

"Don't hyperventilate on me, Cat," Cathy whispered. She had adopted the nickname Iria had given him recently, making him feel a twinge of homesickness every time she said it. He wished briefly that Iria was here, or one of the twins, someone to help him calm down. He wished Trowa was here. He smiled ruefully at that thought, knowing that if the sun was out, Trowa would be hidden until it had disappeared, no questions asked. "You don't want to pass out in front of all the dignitaries and royalty, do you?"

"I am not hyperventilating, Cathy," Quatre whispered back. He glared at her smirking face for a moment before turning back forward, facing the large entry way doors. "I'm just—I'm just a little nervous, that's all."

"Well, don't be. I'll be sure to protect you from any nasty glares or rude mutterings!"

"Don't even kid about that."

"Oh quit your whining. You'll do just fine, you look great!"

"I look ridiculous."

"Oh hush, you. Trowa believes in you and we all believe in you too; have a little faith in yourself for a change." She smiled at him in her calming way and grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently before letting it drop back behind him. Quatre looked over and returned her smile, accepting the calming emotions she was surrounded by, letting it soothe over his nerves and stomach. He waited for what felt like forever, looking around the chamber as he saw practically everyone gathered around him and Cathy, smiling at Sally who was standing with Wufei behind them on the stairs, until S finally announced the first arrival—The Quinque representatives.

The procession was lavish and full of color, Quatre's eyes widening at the many people who entered through the front doors, a large man stood at the center, his bald head looked polished over his strong features, pride displayed clearly in his face and in every other face. Each of the men and women were dressed similar to Wufei and Sally, intricate designs weaved into the fabric of the brightly colored clothing, reminding Quatre of winding vines and dragons that looked gold and seemed to dance as each person walked. Seven men and women walked forward, the bald man still in the center, and as one, they each bowed with the hands pushed together in front of their chests, stopping halfway before coming back up. The bald man stepped forward and stopped directly in front of Quatre and Cathy.

"Master O," Cathy introduced with a curtsy. "How good it is to see you again! I trust your journey was smooth and swift."

"As always, your Highness," O answered, looking at Quatre with a beetle black gaze. "It is an honor to meet you as well, your Highness. Quinque is happy to see that Tria has found a suitable partner at long last."

"Thank you, it's an honor to meet you as well," Quatre answered. He managed to keep his voice calm and polite. O smiled kindly and took a step back to where the other six representatives were waiting before stepping off to the side in time for S to announce the next arrival—Sanq Kingdom.

Quatre couldn't remember seeing so much pink before as the different ladies entered, followed by a older looking gentleman and a young girl, perhaps no older than Quatre himself. She had long, honey colored hair, two sections pulled back, braided, and meeting at the back of her head; a delicate crown of pink and white diamonds rested on top of her head. She smiled kindly and easily, her blue dress reflected in the color of her irises, and she embraced Cathy with the familiarity of sisters, pausing to look in surprise at Quatre before embracing him as well. He stood still for a moment, not sure if it was appropriate to hug back, but the pure sense of warmth he felt radiate from the young ruler was contagious and he responded in kind.

"It is so wonderful to finally meet you," the girl said after releasing him. "I hope you will do me the favor of simply calling me Relena."

"Only if you call me Quatre," he responded. He liked her, she reminded him a bit of Shaara, all full of innocent trust and kindness that made it almost impossible to not smile back at her. "I'm not really comfortable with all the titles either."

She looked as if she wanted to say more, but at the sound of another trumpet call, she simply squeezed one of his hands before moving to the side with her retinue, the older gentleman whispering into her ear, and bringing a smile from the princess' face. Quatre wanted to know what they were talking about, but the entrance of the Quattuon procession distracted him, and he felt a true and genuine smile creep across his face as he looked at the entering kingdom's representatives. Ever since he had come to Tria, he had found himself missing his homeland of Araaban in the differences of culture that he encountered everywhere. But, here in the faces of the desert nomads Sally had told him about, he saw home again. Even the clothing style could pass as the same.

In front of the group was a huge man, even bigger than Master O, a head full of brown hair and shoulders so broad Quatre was sure he could snap a person in half if he wanted to. He was dressed in traditional garb of any merchant from Araaban, billowing pants coupled with a loose jerkin, short vest and red sash tied around his waist. He had a weathered, tan face, two deep brown eyes under a hawk-like brow, but his smile was wide and inviting. He bowed to Cathy and looked over at Quatre, much like the main representative from Quinque had, forcing Quatre to look back and not shuffle his feet. But that was where the similarity ended, as Quatre felt himself swept into a huge bear hug and pulled off the ground by the broadly laughing man; Quatre glanced around at the varied looks of exasperation, humor, and resignation from the people in the chamber before he was set back on his feet.

"Master Quatre, it is my deepest honor to meet you, chosen mate of Tria's prince, a most honorable ally of Quattuon and her people. You may call me Rashid."

"It's nice to meet you, and just Quatre is fine. I'm not royalty or anything."

"No, I could not, Master Quatre." Rashid smiled down at Quatre, placing a broad hand on Quatre's slim shoulder, leaning down to level brown with ocean blue. "I call those who deserve such honors a title which is fitting, and for bringing about the changes I have heard you have brought about in Prince Trowa, it would be a dishonor on me and my people to call you any less. And I must say that Tria has chosen most wisely."

Quatre felt a red warmth work its way up his neck and cheeks at the praise from the huge man, Rashid, and he smiled softly in thanks, not really knowing what else to say. He knew he had seen changes in Trowa's behavior over the past few months, some of that distant and aloof nature of his fading away and a much more open and trusting young man emerging, especially around his own subjects, but he had no idea that people were contributing that change to him! He was just a skinny, blond merchant's son who, for some reason, caught the eye of a lonely prince. It was strange to hear so much respect for him come from someone else outside of Trowa's family, and he wasn't sure he deserved it. Rashid spared one more smile for him before fading back to where his men waited for him as S announced the last arrival—Sive.

Quatre smiled in recognition as he saw Heero stride through the doors, heedless of his men and attendants who seemed to be trying to get ahead of him. He looked the same as Quatre remembered from those months past, only this time there was only one wolf beside him, his other side flanked by an older gentleman who had strange glasses over his eyes and a silver, prosthetic tool for one of his hands. He spared Cathy a nod, earning him an eye-roll from the red-head, before looking over at Quatre. "Quatre."

"Hello, Heero. It's nice to see you again. I never really thanked you properly for helping me and the Bear get here all those nights ago, so, thank you. I probably could have gotten here on my own, but it was nice to have a guide, especially one so close to Tro-the prince."

Heero looked at him for a moment before smirking softly, canting his head at Quatre in a silent acceptance before waving to the old man at his side. "This is Doctor J, one of my advisors and technicians. He's been serving Sive for many years and is here to help Trowa."

"So it's you that Trowa's been pining over for so long, eh?" J asked. He was smiling in a gummy fashion that made Quatre think of him as mad, and he smiled back tentatively, remembering very similar words uttered to him by the stoic, brown-haired prince once upon a time. "Well, can't say as I blame the man for his taste. So, you've been liking the Fey, boy? Heard you were from the Mortal lands."

"I love it here." Quatre fought very hard to keep the grimace off his face at the old man's comment about Trowa's taste; it was not appealing to have the knowledge that a strange old man thought he was attractive. "It's beautiful."

"Miss your family?" Quatre got a strange feeling from the old man, almost as if he was looking for a specific answer to the innocuous question, one that was important. He glanced over towards Heero for a moment, the other boy revealing nothing on his face, before looking back over at J.

"Of course, but I've gained so much since I've come here." Quatre paused and smiled at his answer, remembering a time when he wouldn't have thought he would ever find what he had. Freedom, acceptance, love even. In finding him, Trowa had taken him away from his family, and he would always miss them, but he had finally found where he belonged here in the Fey, here with Trowa. "I wasn't sure at first, when I first agreed to come here, but now, I've found so much and met so many people I never would have if I had just stayed where I was."

He saw Trowa's face in his mind, his half smile, the curtain of auburn hair, and the deep green eyes that glowed when he didn't think Quatre was looking. "And I wouldn't trade that for anything, even returning home to my family."

Heero exchanged a look with someone behind Quatre, probably Wufei, as Quatre could remember Trowa saying the three of them spent a lot of time together when they were younger, and gave Quatre a solemn nod, one that made Quatre feel as if he answered correctly. Whether it was correct or not didn't matter to Quatre, it was how he felt; it was nice to be able to say it aloud. He only wished that Trowa had been there beside him to hear it too. Quatre looked over at J, wishing he could see behind those opaque glasses over his eyes, wishing he was better at his empathy than he was. All he got was some silent appraisal, same creepy smile playing across his wrinkled face until he let out a bark-like laugh and gave Quatre a nod.

"You'll do, boy."

* * *

"It was nice to see Heero again too, even if that man he brought with him, J, is a little—strange." Quatre smiled in the dark, running a hand through Trowa's hair and looking in the general direction he thought the green-eyed prince's face might be. It was hard to tell, not even a sliver of moonlight was let into the room at night, giving Quatre's eyes no light to work with to adjust to the darkness, but he had a general idea from how close Trowa's voice was when he spoke. "Have you ever met Doctor J, Trowa?"

"Yes, when I was young." Quatre didn't say anything, waiting and hoping that Trowa would expand. He had been itching to talk to him all day, ever since the dignitaries and representatives had shown up, but he hadn't been able until they were alone in their, Trowa's, bedchamber. Trowa had shown up the exact moment the sun set in the sky, clothed in a simple elegance and complimentary colors to Quatre's own clothing that made Quatre slightly miffed that he had to wear so many layers when Trowa got away without all the fuss. And even though Trowa was obviously familiar with their visitors, particularly with Heero and Rashid, everyone was especially formal for most of the night, making Quatre ache for the moment Trowa grabbed his hand and announced it was time to retire.

"That can't be the entire story," Quatre teased finally. He would have pouted with his smile for good measure, but the inky darkness made that a pointless endeavor. "Come on, I had to put up with itchy clothing all day while meeting a bunch of people who, might I add, have already heard all about me. The least you can do is tell me more about Doctor J and how Heero doesn't mind a man like that around him!"

"Quatre Winner," Trowa responded. His voice had a low undercurrent to it that made it sound rough, but Quatre could feel the playfulness coming from him as well. Quatre felt the bed shift under him and could feel Trowa settle back above him, the skin of his forearms brushing against his own as he placed a hand on either side of his shoulders. "You are an utter brat when it suits your purposes. Don't you know that's not how you're to address your Prince?"

"You still haven't answered my question, _your Highness_," Quatre bantered. He could feel Trowa's emotions and feelings as if they were his own, filtering desire, affection, and love into him, amplifying what the blond was already feeling. He was trying very hard to not let Trowa distract him, yet, which wasn't an easy task when his skin tingled down his spine with every warm exhalation coming from said prince above him. Trowa's fingertips ghosted blindly across his collarbone before dropping down the length if his body, tickling his side and resting at the curve of his hip. Quatre bit his bottom lip to keep in any traitorous noises, determined to win.

"Imp," Trowa sighed. Quatre smiled softly at the smile he could hear but not see, working its way across the prince's face in time with the pure affection and amusement Quatre felt filter into him. "I met him when I first met Heero, when I was about ten or so; I went to Sive with my sister and some others. He has always been a bit, eccentric I suppose, but he taught Heero, Wufei and I many different combat techniques in addition to basic mechanics. He is quite the inventor."

"Heero said he's an advisor; is he like S?"

"Possibly. Heero and I believe that those two, along with Master O, the old advisor from Deux, and another I've heard called 'H,' all have known each other for many years."

"Well, maybe they were friends when they were younger. O didn't look nearly as old as J did though, or even S."

Trowa laughed out loud at that and Quatre's eyes drew together in confusion. He didn't think he said anything funny—in fact, there wasn't anything remotely funny from what he said. He felt a sliver of irritation creep up as Trowa's laughter faded into gentle chuckles. "Whatever I said wasn't that funny."

"Oh, I'm not laughing at you, Cat." Quatre felt any irritation flee as quickly as it had come; he loved it whenever Trowa called him that. For some reason, it didn't create that sense of loneliness and feeling of missing his family that happened whenever anyone else called him that. "I'm just—I forget you don't really know anything about the Fey, not really; that you're from the mortal lands. It's just, J, S, and Master O are the same age most likely, and probably a lot older than you think."

"What?"

"It's just, time moves differently here than it does in your homeland." Quatre still felt confused. "J and S both look older than Master O because they've left the Fey for long periods of time before, lived out in the Mortal realms. I think they've been alive for more than a few hundred years, probably from before the time that Deux and Quattuon both fell."

"So…what you're saying is that anyone who's from here is immortal?" Quatre felt distinctly uncomfortable with that idea. "That you all only age once you leave and live outside of the Fey?"

"Well, you're half-correct on the latter assumption." Trowa gave a sigh and relaxed his arms, somehow sensing Quatre's confusion in the dark even though he couldn't see the blonde's face. "It's not that we don't age, as we obviously do, it's just…slower than most. J and S have both lived outside of the Fey, where Time is very different, and so they look older, because age has affected them more quickly than it would here. We're not immortal, humans at least. There are different elves, sprites, and other creatures that live for much longer, giving an illusion of immortality. Understand, _amour_?"

Quatre nodded, not thinking that Trowa might not see the movement, his mind mulling over something that had just occurred to him. "How much older are you than me? I always thought we were the same age, but…how old, in my terms, Mortal terms, are you?"

"Remember, we don't measure time here the same way as you do. Haven't you noticed that since you've been here?" Quatre didn't really think about it at the time, so overwhelmed by everything else the Fey had to show him, but now, in hindsight, there did seem to be a distinct lack of measuring days and months. Looking back it all seemed so fluid, time marked by events but not really time itself, not years or months, or days even. It was a little jolting to think about. "But, I suppose if I was to put a number to it, I'd be close to eighty summers or so. Does that bother you?"

Quatre looked up and sought Trowa's face with his hands, not wanting the doubt he heard in the green-eyed prince's voice to be there. He pulled down and pressed his lips to Trowa's firmly, letting one of his hands cup the back of the prince's neck, responding lightly when Trowa responded with a kind of heat that made Quatre's blue eyes darken and dilate. Quatre pulled away slightly, his lips only a fraction away from Trowa's, the heat between them growing again for the second time that night, shrouded in their darkness.

"No, it doesn't bother me, it's just a little strange, I guess. Only in the Fey right?" He smiled slowly against Trowa's lips, breathing in the sharp intake of air Trowa gave in response. Trowa's hands were definitely wandering in a manner that refused to be ignored, Quatre gasping as he was pulled up, arm wrapped around his lower back, his own leg hooking over Trowa's hip. "Should I prove how much it doesn't bother me, _muHibb_?"

Trowa practically growled before crushing their lips back together.

* * *

Quatre was sitting in one of his favorite gardens, quietly reading with the Princess Relena and Cathy when he looked up in shock, a feeling of pure, unadulterated anger and disappointment slammed into him. He gasped and stood up, hand clutching at the material around his heart, looking around madly, looking for the familiar signature that came with those feelings. He could hear Relena asking Cathy what was wrong, but Quatre didn't wait to hear an answer, hurrying away and practically running straight into who he was looking for. He tried to blink away the tears he felt spring to his eyes at the distress and anger he felt coming from one of his dearest friends, kneeling down and flinging his arms around a very agitated and upset Bear.

Not too long after that first intimate night with Trowa, the Bear had finally emerged from his hiding, ambling down the garden path one day, _whuffing_ as Quatre had looked up and hurriedly rushed over to hug him. Quatre had been so happy to see him again, especially when he didn't see the Bear for the first few months he had been at Tria, and to be reunited with his first friend from the Fey was wonderful. Though, he had scolded the Bear about disappearing like he had. Since then, Quatre spent a good part of his day with the Bear before meeting Trowa in the evenings, the Bear acting as Quatre's closest confidant. And now, he was upset and angry, and Quatre was not going to very kind or polite to whoever caused his Bear pain.

It was nearing the end of the visit from the different Colony kingdoms, and over the past week, Quatre had to watch Trowa become more and more despondent, as whatever help the others had brought with them to aid Trowa was not working. Quatre hated being left in the dark, only able to help by holding Trowa at night and whispering that everything would be all right, even though he didn't know what was wrong. He was not going to stand for the Bear to be upset and hurt as well! He pulled away and looked deep into the Bear's eyes, assuring him that he would make sure whoever was responsible for his distress would be held responsible. He'd be damned if he couldn't help somebody.

On cue, a variety of different people rushed over to where he and the Bear were standing, the usual Cathy, Sally, Wufei, and S in addition to many different visitors, including Relena, Heero, and Rashid. Trailing them, was Doctor J, wearing a decidedly unconcerned look on his face that made Quatre clench his fists in balls around the Bear's snowy white fur. If there ever was a guilty action, that was it, Quatre decided as he stared hard at Doctor J, not caring for the amusement that crept up on the old man's face. "What did you do to my Bear?"

Doctor J gave him a patient look before answering. "Your Bear?"

"Can't you see that you hurt him? Whatever it was that you were doing, stop it. I won't tolerate anyone hurting the Bear while they are staying here."

"Quatre," Cathy began softly. "Doctor J didn't mean to hurt…to hurt the Bear. He's just trying to help him and, something must have gone wrong, right Doctor?" The last part was said with definite curtness, Cathy giving the Doctor her own patented glare, hand going on her hips in a dangerous manner.

"Of course, Princess. Unfortunate accident is all. Won't happen again." Doctor J's smile afterwards did little to comfort Quatre. Cautiously, he reached out with his empathy to see if the old man was telling the truth, but he couldn't sense anything untrustworthy in the other's emotions. "I am curious though, boy, how did you know the Bear was upset? He certainly doesn't seem hurt to me."

"I can feel it," Quatre answered simply. It was only after the surprised looks, and Heero's signature 'you just messed up' look that he felt as if he spoke to quickly. Too late, he remembered what Heero had said about his empathy being a rare gift, even in the Fey; maybe it wasn't the best idea to just blurt out. He was getting to comfortable here at Tria manor, where virtually everyone knew about his gift, that he was forgetting how he had survived for so long outside the Fey, where his gift was looked down on and thought something evil. Sheepishly, he looked at the Bear who was staring steadily at him with his depthless green eyes, finding comfort in the support he found there; already the Bear's anger seemed to be fading. Quatre smiled softly; his Bear was always there to help and protect him, even when he was upset.

"An Empath eh? J asked, smiling in his own knowing way. "And from the Mortal realms, you're certainly an interesting one, aren't you boy?"

"I didn't think there had been a new Empath born recently," Relena mused. She looked calmly at Quatre, as if she was trying to work out a puzzle.

"A true Empath?" Rashid asked with a tint of wonder. Quatre felt a sense of dread creep up his spine as he thought the large man was going to attack or something. Maybe empathy wasn't liked in different parts of the Fey. He felt even worse when the man got down on one knee and kneeled before him. "It is an even greater honor to meet a Touched one. Not since our lost Queen walked among my people have I met another with your gift."

"Uh, well, thank you, but Rashid, please get up; you don't need to—"

"I think that's quite enough," Sally spoke up. She looked faintly exasperated, blue eyes rolling skyward at the looks she received from all the different people who also seemed intent on examining the Tria Prince's newly interesting betrothed. "Quatre is still learning about his gift and certainly can't answer any of the inane questions you have for him. Besides, it's nearing sundown; we all must ready for the prince's arrival and dinner. I suggest we all head inside and all of you think about something else to talk about at dinner, as Prince Trowa will most likely not be willing to talk about this subject at this time."

Quatre thought it funny that Sally glanced at the Bear with distinct emphasis during her lecture. Before he could think about that further though, Cathy hooked her arm through his and marched him back up towards the manor, giving the plain look of a mother bear guarding her cub. Quatre glanced back once at the Bear before he was hurried into the house, no doubt forced to wear too much layers of clothing again for dinner, frowning as he saw Heero lean down and say something to the Bear. Anything else that happened, though, was lost as he rounded a corner and the scene disappeared from view.

Quatre was really getting sick of always being in the dark about everything.

* * *

The celebrations for the end of the Colony kingdoms visits was somewhat anticlimactic compared to what Quatre had been expecting. Given the flair and formality of the introductions and entrances a week and a half ago, the quietness of everyone leaving felt melancholy and strange. Quatre looked over at Trowa, who was standing beside him, a keening sense of despair rolling off him, and reached out to grab his hand, not caring one whit if that wasn't the most appropriate action to take right now. Trowa looked over at him and smiled softly, the mask unable to hide the gratitude those green eyes were conveying. Quatre smiled back and threaded his fingers with the taller prince's.

Quinque and Sanq had already left earlier that evening, having the farthest to travel, as Quatre had learned that Tria was flanked mainly by Sive with a small portion bordered with Quattuon; Sanq and Quinque were a bit further out. Now, Quatre was busy saying his good byes to a still reverent Rashid, feeling somewhat uncomfortable at the obvious respect the large man held for him. Trowa left his side to speak with Heero privately and he felt largely inadequate left alone with the smiling man.

"It was wonderful to meet you, Rashid, and I hope your visit was pleasant."

Rashid looked at him in a strange manner before taking has hand and sinking to his knee, bringing them more or less to eye level, Quatre a few inches taller that Rashid as he remained standing. "The pleasure was mine, it has been an honor to meet you, Master Quatre. I believe Trowa chose you most wisely, and I think the love between you is strong to weather any sandstorm that could be sent by the Great Lady. Do not lose that knowledge, no matter what could happen, young Master, do not lose the love you have for each other."

Quatre was taken aback by the large man's words, only able to nod numbly; he uttered them with such intensity it was hard to think of anything else to say after that. Before he could say anything else, Rashid rose and gave one last bow, spreading his hands out in opposite directions before him in a familiar gesture that Quatre recalled from Araaban. "_El salaamu rhalaikum"_

Quatre smiled and returned, almost without thinking, words that he knew were the correct response. "_Wa rhalaikamu el salaamu._" He blinked his confused, ocean blue eyes afterward, but didn't miss that spark of something in Rashid's eyes as he exited with his retinue. Trowa returned to his side as Heero exited, all of his wolves accompanying him out the door, Doctor J flanking him, leaving only those who belonged in Tria manor there. The despair was back, not to the same degree as before, and Quatre pushed aside the strange exchange with Rashid from his mind, linking hands with Trowa again.

"I've been thinking about something, something that I think I need to do." Quatre waited for Trowa's masked face to look at him before continuing. "I think I need to—I mean if I can—visit my family."

Trowa's reaction was easy to read, even without the empathy, as his one visible eye widened and his mouth formed a small 'o' in surprise. Quatre didn't mean to spring it on him so suddenly, but it was something he had been feeling for some time, and Rashid's words about the bond between them just seemed to cement the idea. He needed to close the chapter of his life that had been with his family, he had to in order to focus on helping Trowa with whatever curse, enchantment, or whatever it may be was ailing him; he couldn't do that without reaching some sort of closure with his past.

"I just, I think I just need to check on them, make sure they're all right. You said that time moves differently here, that now the magic of Fey will change how I age too…I just want to see them before any of that happens."

Trowa was silent and closed off, Quatre couldn't feel anything. "I do not see why you shouldn't be able to go. I can arrange for your journey starting tomorrow."

Quatre smiled at him. "Really? Would you come with me?"

Trowa shook his head and Quatre felt his own smile slip from his face. "I cannot, but the Bear will go with you, act as your protector and guide."

The idea wasn't nearly as appealing to Quatre has it had been a moment ago, the idea of being away from Trowa for so long. But, he should have expected it, Trowa was the prince of a kingdom, he couldn't just go off on a vacation whenever he felt like it. Another reason why Quatre had to do this. He wanted to be able to help Trowa, be there for him and make his life with him. He reached up, fingers running over the smooth material of the mask, leaning in and raising his head to press his lips to Trowa's, breathing in the very scent of the forest that always seemed to surround the tall prince.

"I need to do this, Trowa. It won't be long, just a week, but after seeing everyone here, it just reminded me how much I missed them."

"I know," Trowa responded quietly. He wrapped his arms around the slightly smaller blond and pressed them together as if trying to merge them into one being. Quatre basked himself in the warm and comforting feelings Trowa was opening up to him. He pulled away after pressing a kiss to Quatre's forehead, smiling at him softly before leading him away to their, not just Trowa's, rooms. "But, for the moment, let's celebrate the end of a very tiring week."

Quatre smiled in what he hoped was an enticing manner in response, which morphed into a laugh as Trowa's began rushing them down the many hallways. He thought he felt something flicker in his mind, something that didn't belong, but it was shoved aside as Trowa spun him around and pressed their lips together, lifting him up and practically carrying him down the rest of the way. So wrapped up in the moment, he didn't think to cast about his empathy, missing his chance to espy a foreign being that didn't belong, one that rushed away into the black night from whence it came. He missed the dark and triumphant flash of hatred and victory the flitted across the moon and out of the Fey, towards a house one the edge of the enchanted lands where a little blond boy used to play violin in the fields.

* * *

The exchange between Quatre and Rashid is roughly "May peace be with you," and an answering reply.

Edited chapter for structure, clarity, and grammar. Enjoy!

Osco


	7. Chapter 7

Candlelight (7/25ish)

Author: Osco

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xS

Rating: R

Warnings: Lemony goodness, violence, language, magical happenings, and ugly Trolls attempting to ruin the story!

Summary: Retelling of the fairy tale, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" GW style. What if you made a mistake? What if the person you loved had to pay the price? How far would you go to save him? How about a place that can't exist?

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I am but a poor college student who has no hold over the characters whatsoever and is doing this as a pastime.

* * *

**Chapter 7: **_**A Splash of Wax**_

In less than two weeks since the last of the Colony dignitaries had left, Quatre found himself outside Tria Manor exchanging farewells with the different members of staff. He was dressed in clothing similar to what he wore when he first left his family's cottage, soft and flexible leathers and a close fitting, but comfortable jerkin with a traveling cloak draped over his slim shoulders, all the colors neutral and earthen. His packs were currently strapped across a very patient looking Bear, sitting quietly on his haunches while Quatre had the living breath squeezed out of him by various servants and manor employees, Hilde going last with tears in her eyes.

Quatre patted her on the back awkwardly, soothing her that it wasn't like he was never coming back. She smiled at him and just hugged him all the tighter. It was still a little surprising that he was leaving already, but apparently Trowa hadn't been kidding about starting the preparations as soon as possible. Inwardly, Quatre loved the gesture—he could feel Trowa's motivation within himself as well. The sooner Quatre left and saw his family, the sooner he'd be back; Quatre had kissed him in a very distracting way after his empathy had discovered that little nugget of information. Quatre was eventually released from Hilde's grasp and he looked over to where Cathy was standing with Sally and Wufei, Professor S waiting beside the Bear in his ever calm way.

Quatre knew that the sun was out in the early hours of the day, and that he and Trowa had shared their goodbye between themselves the night before, and well into the early morning if truth be told, but he still wished that Trowa's tall, masked form was there as well. He pushed down the feeling though, not liking how it made him feel and walked over to the three waiting, clasping Wufei's hand and promising to keep up his weapon exercises. The dark-eyed man gave him a formal nod and relented as Cathy pushed forward, wrapping her arms tightly around Quatre, pouring a stream of warmth and affection so strong it nearly sent Quatre into a fit of giggles. She pulled away and placed a kiss on his cheek before looking at him, her large eyes even more expressive than usual.

"You hurry and come back to us, you hear me?" She was trying to sound quite stern but the quiver in her voice betrayed her. Quatre smiled at her and let her hold his hand so tight he thought the fingers were turning purple underneath her grip. "And you be sure to give all of your sisters our gratitude and love! We are family after all."

"Trowa hasn't married me yet, Cathy." He smiled at her in a teasing manner, even if a small part of him was wondering about that. He didn't think he was doing anything wrong, sleeping with Trowa and sharing a bed even though they hadn't been married, but he still wondered why they were waiting. He gave a mental sigh and filed that under his ever growing list of things he didn't talk about. He just had to trust that there was a good reason.

"Oh pish-tosh, family is more than blood, Cat, and I'll have it that you remember that!"

"Of course, Cathy, I love you too."

"Just so you don't forget." Cathy sniffed her response, drawing a laugh from the blonde that made her smile back. "Now, you hurry up now. The sooner you leave, the sooner you'll be back!"

He nodded and gave her one last hug before moving on to Sally, who was looking suspiciously more patient than usual. He quirked an eyebrow at her but she waved away any questions dancing behind his lips. She wrapped her arm around him, one half of her honey-blonde braid sneaking across his own shoulder as she steered him towards the Bear. She nodded at S who gave Quatre a very formal farewell before moving back towards the manor and besides Cathy. Quatre looked at her more closely, almost curious enough to reach out with his empathy and see what was going on but before he could follow through, Sally produced a small bag from within her cloak and handed it Quatre.

"You remember that powder I bought from the vendor in Blume?" Quatre nodded silently, trying to wonder what was going on to warrant such a worried look from the usually carefree healer. "The Night's Tear's? Well, that's what I'm giving you for your trip. Now listen very carefully, each night before you take your rest I want you to take a pinch and throw it into your fire. Just a pinch, no more, do you understand?"

"Well, of course I understand, but why?"

"To protect you against anything that might be looking. You remember you're encounter with Dermail the Troll?"

Quatre gave a shudder at the memory. Of course he remembered that; the disgusting mixture of feelings, most directed toward him in a manner that made him distinctly uncomfortable plus the hatred he had for the Bear made the event very vivid in his memory. "Yes."

"This will make sure that doesn't happen again. Now, do you promise to use it every night you're gone from Tria? Even when you're in your homeland?"

Quatre nodded at her, but had to voice the question burning in his mind, blue eyes meeting Sally's. "But, I thought you said it was really rare and that you needed it to protect Trowa? Are you sure, I mean, what if I have to use all of it?"

"Quatre." Sally's voice held a hint of exasperation but it mainly was kind and her warm eyes fixed him with a reassuring look. "It's true that this is rare, but in giving it to you I'm protecting something rare as well. You are the Prince of Tria's betrothed, Quatre, and a most remarkable person in your own right, who I believe is worthy of this protection. I don't think there is a more fitting purpose for this powder than protecting you."

Quatre looked down at her praise, his hand that wasn't holding the powder threading through the soft, thick white fur of the Bear. He could feel the truth of Sally's words wrap around his heart and even though he tried to fight it, it was weakening his barriers and letting in the similar feelings from everyone else around him. For the first time in his life, Quatre wanted to be selfish and ignore his family; he wanted to stay here and never leave. The Bear gave a soft _whuff_ and Quatre met his deep green eyes with clouded ocean blues. He smiled and took a deep breath before looking back up at Sally giving her a small nod and tucking the powder in his bag.

"I'll remember to use it every night, Sally, I promise."

"Good, now give me a hug and get your tiny little bum back on the Bear and check on your family so you can come home."

Quatre gave a small laugh before complying with the adamant healer's demands. The Bear stuck out his fore leg for Quatre to use to climb up, seating himself on the Bear's broad, snowy back and giving everyone another wave. He leaned down and whispered to the Bear to leave, but before they could, Sally' hand darted out and grabbed his wrist, a strange look on her face. He gave her another questioning look and leaned down when she motioned him to.

"I am a healer, Quatre, but I have some gift with Seeing as well. I have a warning for you."

"A warning? What is it?"

"Your mother…"

"Step-mother."

"Yes, her, do not listen to the words she will speak. They could bring un-foretold doom if you do."

Quatre almost laughed out loud at that. He couldn't stand Lady Une as it was and the likelihood of him talking to her willfully, much less listening to her, were slim and none. However, the absolute serious expression on the healer's face made him hold it in and gripped her hand back. It would be cold day indeed the day he listened to anything that spiteful woman had to say.

"Believe me, I won't. I promise."

Sally didn't say anything, just nodded and walked back to where her husband was walking towards her. Quatre smiled and took a deep breath, waving another time before he leaned down to his Bear and whispered softly in his ear.

"Well, let's get this done—I don't think I can stand being away from Trowa for that long."

The Bear _whuffed_ as if to say, _he cannot either._ The great, white Bear ambled off in the direction of the Mortal realms, the slender, blue-eyed blond he carried his most precious charge, and growling in contentment as the hands buried in his fur.

* * *

Quatre felt and odd emotion rush through him after nearly a full week of traveling through the Fey, a spike of dread as the twilit border that seemed to fence in the immensely huge Fey lands from the Mortal realm peaked its way into view. It was odd because Quatre, six months ago, would have been overjoyed to see the borders of his homeland, knowing that within moments his family's home would be in sight after they crossed out of the forest. Now, all he felt was that dead sense of loss that hadn't left him since he and the Bear left Tria Manor and all of his newfound family within. Since he had left Trowa. Quatre felt that dull emptiness in his chest that was once Trowa's ever present emotions and presence; reduced to an aching longing the further away he was from his other half. He instinctually reached out and let the emotions of the Bear, who never resisted and always let Quatre in, wash over him.

It was funny how similar the two were emotionally, the Bear and Trowa. Quatre smiled to himself; if the Bear could be human Quatre thought he'd be very similar to Trowa in personality. The Bear _harrumphed_ underneath Quatre, demanding attention for the warmth and affection he was filtering into Quatre's blood. Quatre laughed and pushed aside the dread as much as he could, running his hands and fingers through the Bear's snowy fur, ruffling it behind his ears in the way the Bear liked.

"Sorry, Bear. I was just thinking…I miss everyone so much, so much more than I thought I ever possibly could."

The Bear _whuffed_ as he ambled gracefully through the underbrush and oak branches. Despite the Bear's obvious bulk, Quatre suspected he was faster than the prized war horses in Arabaan, swiftly and surely moving with the grace of a hunting cat that was half his size. In a journey that had taken close to three weeks before, two weeks with only the Bear and a week with Heero and his wolves, the Bear had accomplished it even quicker, crossing the vast expanse of the Fey entry forests in little under a week. Quatre had learned more about the geography of the Fey when he wasn't practicing with Wufei or Sally, learning different political mannerisms with S, or gardening with Cathy and the Bear. Sally had, of course, provided most of the texts and was there to help him whenever he came across a word in ancient Fey that he didn't understand, but for the most part, it was his own project. He wanted to know more about his new home and, at first, was amazed and awed by how big it actually was.

Growing up, Quatre had always thought the Fey was merely the enchanted forest that bordered Arabaan, and when Trowa had first sent his summons, he thought it was closer to a country like Arabaan. In reality, it was a whole world. Quatre had been astonished to discover the Fey had its own continents, oceans, races, everything…not just an enchanted forest that bordered the Mortal realm with a few kingdoms. In many aspects, it overwhelmed the Mortal realm, seeming to occupy twice the land and sea mass and it traded with the Mortal realm on a steady basis. Dwarfs, Elves, Sprites, Humans, Spirits, Mages, Trolls, Goblins, Ogres, Nymphs, Beast people, and so many more different races and species lived in the Fey. In fact, even though the Elven nation that had existed within the Colony Kingdoms no longer existed, they had their own lands north of the Colony Kingdoms, filled with many kingdoms and cities. When he had gone to ask Sally, and later Trowa, just how big the Fey actually was the only answer he got was that no one was really sure because it seemed to keep growing.

It was a little mind boggling to think about, but in a place where magic was as every day as breathing, Quatre tried to just accept it and hoped to see more of the Fey someday. Or, at the very least, the rest of the Colony Kingdoms, Quatre thought ruefully, resting his hands on the Bear's broad shoulders. But, he had a feeling that this was the most traveling he would be doing until whatever enchantment Trowa seemed to be under was solved. He frowned and let out a sigh, wishing again for what seemed like the hundredth time that there was something he could…that someone would tell him _something_. He pulled his thoughts out of that particular train and looked back around him as the Bear began to cross through the thick firs and pines that had always looked so out of place in his desert homeland; it was the last bit of the Fey before they entered the Mortal realm again. Quatre smiled and closed his eyes, whispering softly to the Bear as the sandy, hot air of Araaban hit his face, the ever cool feeling of the forest retreating from his back.

"Ready, my Bear?"

"_Whuff._"

Quatre opened his eyes as the Bear fully entered the lands of Araaban and gasped, for where his father's barren fields used to be, and where the small, decrepit cottage one could still see from the edge of the Fey once stood, there were manicured grounds and gardens surrounding a rather large looking mansion. The sharp smell of Araaban spices and sand wrapped around Quatre but he couldn't take his eyes off the house and the twinkling lights all around it. There were many carriages around the mansion and the sound of music and dance could be heard ever louder the closer the Bear brought him to the mansion. Quatre wanted to believe that his family had moved away and this was now the home of some foreign nobleman, but he knew that wasn't the case. He could feel his family in that house; he smiled sadly and shook his head.

"They didn't waste any time, did they Bear?" Quatre felt sad at the absence of his old home; not a trace of it existed in this beautiful and well-groomed establishment. The Bear growled in agreement as he carried the slender blond past the many gardens and fountains. "I mean, I know that we didn't really live all that well but—but that was the home I grew up in! That we all grew up in…"

The Bear _whuffed_ and was sure to send even more of the honey-warm stream of affection and comfort into Quatre. Quatre smiled and scratched the Bear's ears again.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm happy that they have such a nice place to live, with there being so many of us, and Iria being sick but…that was the only place where I had memories of my mother really. She died when I was a baby but sometimes I felt like I could see bits of her in that house from what my father and sisters remembered."

The Bear almost purred underneath him in what Quatre could only identify as sympathy. He laughed and ruffled the snowy fur as they exited the gardens and were making their way up the cobbled path, a path that had once been nothing but dirt and loose gravel. "It's okay, Bear, I just—it's just a big change for only seven months. I guess we've all had big changes uh? My family tears down the cottage and builds a mansion, I meet and fall in love with a prince, who would've thought the Winners would end up being so interesting uh Be—ah!"

Quatre gasped out the rest of his sentence as something strange and familiar overwhelmed him…a wave of feelings that should be over six hundred miles away tucked away in Tria manor! He raised his head up and looked around, sliding off the Bear in a fluid movement and stared around excitedly. He kept it up before a few minutes before deflating and leaning back against the Bear, the excited and elated look that had crossed his face sliding off into a sadly chagrinned expression. He had been so sure…he had felt…hadn't he? He let out a sigh and tangled his fingers in the Bear's fur again, smoothing back the thick fur and smiling ruefully at the Bear, who had a slightly confused look in his eyes.

"Sorry, Bear, I just thought—I was so sure I felt Trowa." The Bear stiffened under his fingers and Quatre smoothed the fur, not wanting to worry the Bear into thinking that his Prince was somewhere nearby and he wasn't protecting him or something. "It's okay, Bear, I must have—it's probably just me being here again, it's messing with my empathy. I'm sure Trowa is safe and at home in Tria. Just wishful thinking on my part, I guess."

Quatre smiled softly at the Bear, placing one hand on either side of the Bear's fierce looking face, looking deep into the evergreen eyes surrounded by white. He shrugged his shoulders and looked back to the mansion before them, lights and music still twinkling brightly in the surrounding dark heat. "Come on then, let's see what my family's been up to lately."

Quatre and the Bear walked towards the large, ornately carved oak doors, the Bear ambling in his measured, and now calmed, steps and Quatre striding next to him with his hand resting at the Bear's wide shoulder. There didn't seem to be anyone to greet them and Quatre shared a look with the Bear before reaching forward and knocking on the door, the Bear following with a resounding pound of his own. Quatre turned around and grabbed some of his packs off the Bear but turned around as the door opened slowly with a loud creak. Quatre smiled at the rather pompous looking man standing beside some guards in the door's entrance, shouldering his pack with ease.

"Hello! I was wondering who—"

"Boy, I must ask that you leave this property. The Lord and Lady Winner are currently having a ball and we have no time to waste scraps on beggars."

Quatre frowned in response but before he could say anything the Bear growled low and menacing, causing the three men in the doorway to look over and yell out in alarm. The two guards looked to pull at the curved knifes at their sides, but Quatre stepped between them and his Bear, a hard look fixed in his blue eyes.

"I'm not a beggar and I wouldn't try to raise a weapon against my Bear. I was just wondering if I could see one of the ladies or my fa—Lord Winner. My name is Qua—"

"Quatre!" The blond young man looked up and smiled brightly at the voice who had called his name. The guards and snobbish doorman tried to stop the quick moving blur of sandy-blonde hair but she was already out the door with her arms tight around her little brother. Quatre laughed and hugged her back, marveling at how wonderful his sister Iria looked and how tight she was holding him to her. She laughed herself, not a trace of a cough or wheeze in her beautiful voice before letting him go a bit, resting her hands on his shoulders and looking at him in undisguised wonder and happiness.

"Lady Iria! Let that vagabond go, you have no idea what diseases he might have!"

Iria rolled her eyes and turned around, fixing the doorman with an exasperated look. "Pons, this is no vagabond, he's my best and most favorite little brother!"

"I'm your only brother, Iria," Quatre replied. He smiled and quirked his eyebrow at her in amusement.

"All the more reason for me to smother you, Cat!" She hugged him again and started to lead him into the mansion, pausing for a second to look back and smile at the Bear. "You are most welcome to come inside as well, Sir Bear. As an emissary from a Prince of Fey I'm sure none will object to your presence. I'm sure your master wants my baby brother well protected at all times!"

The Bear _whuffed_ in reply as he walked into the main foyer, growling at the guards and sending them scattering back; Quatre rolled his eyes at the Bear and tapped him on the nose in mock scolding. The three made their way past the main entrance of the mansion before they were stopped by the very imposing figure of Lady Une, standing in a regal looking gown and her long pulled up into a severe bun, which Quatre though just made her narrow face look all the worse. The doorman, Pons, was standing beside her, obviously have taken some sort of short cut through the servants' passageways to get to his stepmother; Hilde had shown Quatre all the corridors in Tria manor one very boring day while Sally and Wufei had both been gone to visit some neighboring town. Iria's hands wrapped around his arm as they stopped in front of the Lady Une, who was looking at Quatre with barely, disguised anger.

She took a few steps forward and looked as if she wanted to rip Quatre out of Iria's grip, but stopped short as if she had just then noticed the nine hundred pound polar Bear behind them, and instead narrowed her eyes at him. "How dare you come here looking like some common beggar, Quatre! Did you have no thought of me, the family, and what people would think if they saw you looking as you do?"

Quatre glared back at her, raising his blocks and shielding his mind from the pure anger and hatred he felt from his step-mother. "It wasn't like I knew you were going to have a Ball today. I just wanted to come visit my family, Lady Une, I can't help it that I had to travel through the Fey forests to get here."

"Besides, Lady," Iria cut in. "Father and all of our sisters won't care how Quatre looks! They'll just be happy to see him and know he's okay, just like I am!"

Lady Une's look could sear through metal but, suddenly, a look alit in her eyes and she smiled at them like oil over water. "Yes, I'm sure they would. However, as we are having a Ball tonight, I want Quatre to look presentable before he sees anyone. Pons, go and fetch Maru and see that Quatre is taken to one of the spare rooms and changed into something more appropriate, Iria, I trust you can inform your father and sisters. And Quatre, the Bear, he will have to—"

"The Bear will stay with me." Quatre was pleased by the surprise he saw on his step-mother's face. It was nice to talk back to her and not risk being slapped across the face for his 'impertinence.' Being the betrothed of a prince certainly had its perks. "He's more than just a steed or companion, but a representative of the Prince of Tria, as he was unable to accompany me on this trip."

"How long are you staying, Cat?" Quatre smiled at his sister and gripped her hand before she left to locate their rather large family. He began to follow a young, dark skinned boy, who could only be Maru, up the stairs, Pons once again beside his step-mother, the Bear lumbering behind him.

"A week." He could see the question in her eyes, the one that she had wished for him when he first left one night six months ago. He smiled back at her and hoped that would allay any more questions she had. She was shooed away by their step-mother but gave Quatre another look, clearly stating that their conversation wasn't over, which only earned her a responding a laugh. He placed a hand on the Bear and followed the young boy up the winding staircase and down a few wide corridors. Quatre smiled at him softly, trying to reassure him that his Bear wouldn't harm him, but he understood if that didn't completely wash away the boy's fears. They arrived at the room and Quatre bit his lip and hid a grimace as they entered.

The room his step-mother had set aside for his stay was much to lavish and grand for his taste, expensive carpet and linens everywhere on magnificent furniture, tapestries hanging low from the ceiling in an array of vivid colors. If Quatre didn't know any better, he would say that he was in a Sultan's room, not a spare room of a nobleman's mansion. He briefly wondered just how much gold Trowa sent them every month…it seemed a little much. He set down his packs on the ground and deftly undid the rest still tied to the Bear's back. Maru gave him a brief tour, no doubt nervous and wanting to get out as soon as possible, eyes glancing towards the Bear every few moments. As the boy left, a rush of servants entered and set about making him 'presentable,' enough for his step-mother's approval.

It didn't take as long as it would with Hilde, what with there being five of them instead of one very petite woman, and before he even could catch up with what was going on, he was clean, primped, and dressed in clothes that seemed ten times finer than anything he usually wore at Tria manor. He looked at the dark blue and tight fitting jerkin with the corresponding black vest buttoned up over, the silken black trousers that clung much too tight for his liking, tucked into shiny black boots that reached to his knees. There was silver embroidery over the vest that looked like some sort of leaf pattern and a silver cord around his waist, buckling to a scabbard and ornamental dagger. He looked like some sort of princeling and he grimaced as one of the servants tried to put a silver circlet on his head, starkly refusing it with a shake of his head. He looked ridiculous enough as it was, the Bear seeming to agree as he too was outfitted with some sort of needless drapery in the silver and blue. He whispered to himself that it was worth it, that seeing his family would make this all worth it, repeating it as he was dragged from the room by Pons and lead to lady Une, who waited by the entrance of a pair of great double doors.

"Now, there are many people in there who can greatly enhance our family's fortune, so I want you to be courteous. None of your pranks, comments, or unnatural abilities, do you understand?" She linked her arm through his and led him through the doors before he could even reply. He glared at her before the doors swung open and he was met with the stares and wonder of a large room full of dancing and brightly dressed people. He steadied his empathy against the tide of emotions, focusing on his anchoring memory just like Sally had taught him too, remembering the first time he met Trowa, the way his eyes smiled underneath the mask, how his skin felt against his own. It was only when others gasped at the entrance of the Bear as well that he felt secure enough to bring himself back to the present, grateful their attention was off him so he could steady himself. Pons took a spot beside Lady Une and announced to the whole party their entrance.

"The Lord and Lady Winner would like to introduce you to their son, Quatre Raberba Winner, Prince Consort to the Prince of Tria in Fey!"

Quatre looked over sharply at the man, not really expecting such a grand announcement. He didn't really think about it much but he guessed that would be his title—it just didn't seem to matter in Tria, he was just Quatre there most of the time. Of course, he wasn't exactly married yet so he wasn't sure he actually had such a grand title yet but he wasn't about to contradict the man and his step-mother in front of everyone; the fall out of such an action just wasn't worth it. He smiled politely at the gasps and looks of wonder that were now being directed at him, moving to one side and dropping Lady Une's arm, resting the opposite arm against the snowy white Bear beside him, sitting patiently against the tiled floor. He smiled more genuinely when he saw the many heads of blonde, black, and brown that were weaving through the crowds towards him, recognizing the many faces of his sisters easily. The music was started back up as they reached him, many stopping at the stern look from Lady Une, but Shaara and Maya throwing their arms around him as Iria hung back and smiled, standing beside the tall figure of his father.

"Father," he whispered. The twins let go of him and let their father come forward. Quatre smiled but felt something inside flicker in disquiet as he looked at his father. He was smiling, but it was hard and not what he remembered, not warm or kind or full of laughter. Still smiling, he tentatively reached out with his empathy to see what could be seen underneath…and was unsettled to feel nothing. He felt his father embrace him but it just felt wrong, he hesitated before returning the embrace shakily, eyes drawn to the intense look fixed in the Bear's eyes as he studied his father. There was something wrong, he could feel it; his vibrant father seemed nothing more than a shell of the man he was past the smile on his face. His father released him and he was immediately swept away by the twins and Iria, greeting his other sisters with a false sense of contentment, shaking hands and greeting other various nobles who swept in front of him. When he looked back up, his father was gone.

The rest of the night was a blur of spinning colors and loud laughter until the Bear dragged him away and growled at anyone who thought to step too near. He fell asleep to troubled and dark dreams, high, cold laughter echoing in his head and surrounding his home and father.

* * *

Quatre woke up the next morning to a cold side of the bed, frowning for a moment before he remembered he was in his family's new mansion, not home at Tria in Trowa's bed. He groaned and pushed his body up with his forearms, looking around blearily until he spotted a white mass of Polar Bear sleeping on his back beside the fire, legs akimbo in a mess that made Quatre giggle at the sight. The giggle transformed into a full blown laugh that had him clutching his sides and tears squeezing from his eyes, finally becoming loud enough that it woke the Bear up, one green eye opening and glaring at Quatre. Apparently, he did not appreciate the laughing at his expense.

"I-I'm sorry Be-bear!" Quatre said amid laughs. He took a few steadying breaths, getting his voice under control but still ginning wide, as if he was on the verge of laughing again any second. "You just, you looked so funny! I think you're much too large to sleep like a kitten!"

The Bear sniffed at him before he ambled over, resting his head against the edge of the bed, looking up at Quatre in a way that the still amused blond could only describe as lovingly exasperated. He laughed again before ruffling the white fur on his head, reaching back and scratching his ears. The Bear yawned, showing off his sharp and huge teeth before moving towards the door, grabbing a small satchel from Quatre's packs before waiting by the door. Quatre grinned and slunk out of bed, throwing on some comfortable trousers (from his own packs) and a loose, cotton shirt along with some soft leather boots before heading out with the Bear. As they traveled downstairs, waving off more than a few servants along the way, Quatre's mind drifted back to his father as they made their way to the dining room he remembered Iria pointing out the night before. He frowned and linked his fingers in the Bear's fur in remembrance of our wrong his father seemed to him. Maybe his empathy was off again now that he was in Araaban but…but he just couldn't shake the feeling.

"You remember my father, don't you Bear?"

_Whuff_

"Well…did he seem strange last night? I couldn't feel anything when I reached out with my empathy. I don't know, maybe it's not anything, maybe I just haven't seen him in awhile." The Bear didn't respond but there was a low growl under his breath. Quatre smiled at him and shrugged. He continued to smooth back the Bear's white fur as they walked through the main foyer, the dining room just a few more hallways away.

"I guess the most we can do is just ask, right?" The Bear nudged the satchel now hanging from Quatre's side, a knowing look in his eyes. "And of course continue to use the powder, don't worry, Bear! I haven't forgotten Sally's wish just because we're with my family. But first, let's empty this pack of everything else Cathy felt we need to give to my sisters!"

The Bear hesitated for a moment, giving Quatre the impression that wasn't quite what he was trying to say, but then he _whuffed_ and pushed open the large, wooden door to the dining room. Both Quatre and the Bear took a step back at the cries and exclamations that resounded as they entered, thirty very excited women all clambering at once about his health, how he slept, how long he was visiting, and the like. Quatre noticed that Lady Une looked at him in contempt only once before returning to her breakfast. His father was nowhere to be seen. He politely answered the many questions he could before Iria took his arm and led him to a seat beside her and the twins.

"I think that's quite enough, girls! Cat's probably hungry, we can ask questions later after he and the Bear have eaten." The Bear growled in agreement with Iria, successfully fending off the sisters who had swarmed him and petted and cooed over him. Breakfast was a lively affair and Quatre found himself smiling and just watching his family more often than not, soaking in the purely happy and content emotions that each one was emoting. They all were telling him about the different suitors many had, which were married, which were engaged. He had a distinct feeling that even though the old house had been lost, it was worth it to see his many sisters so happy.

"But I want to hear about little Quatre's prince!" Quatre looked around for who might have said that, but it was a lost effort as many others stared clambering for him to describe Trowa.

"Yes! What is the Fey like?"

"Is the Prince terribly handsome?"

"Why haven't you visited until now?"

Quatre laughed and tried to answer as many questions as he could, mainly about the Fey and the many different people that lived there. He told his sisters and his step-mother about Sally, Wufei, and the many different leaders of the Colony Kingdoms, about Cathy and Professor S and all the others. He told them how the Fey was not just a forest but another world where magic existed as easy as breathing did. He earned many more questions but most seemed so fascinated to interrupt his story, except when it became apparent he was leaving out one hugely important detail.

"But Cat, what about the prince?" Shaara asked him as Maya crowded closer, putting an end to all the other questions. Iria was looking on interested, as was his step-mother. He glanced back at the Bear, who was staring fixedly at him.

"I-where's Father? I wanted to tell all of you when he was he—"

"Your father is busy with his reinvigorated business," Lady Une interrupted. "He is much too busy to indulge in silly little visits. Speak and I will relay your story to him, or perhaps you can tell him later when he can join us. You shouldn't think so selfishly, Quatre."

Quatre glared over at her, Iria and the twins objecting on his behalf before falling silent under his head shake. He sighed and leaned back in his seat before he began telling his sisters all about Trowa. About how they had met, what he was like, and how kind he was, even if it wasn't immediately seen. They all laughed and 'aww'ed' and seemed happy for him when Iria commented that he sounded like he was in love. They shrieked when he answered he was. He grabbed the satchel from beside the silent Bear and began handing out the different gifts inside that Cathy and Trowa had insisted he give to each sister on his return visit. They were rings that had a precious gem at its center, the metal a rare alloy from Heero's lands, each stone picked for his sisters' birthdays. He handed out one to Lady Une last, smiling at her and her pinched expression.

"Oh these are beautiful!"

"Your Prince is so kind!"

"His sister too! Oh, thank you, Quatre!"

"So," Lady Une interjected smoothly. "Your Prince is apparently quite kind and generous, how does he fair aesthetically? Pleasing I assume for you to be so content and hardly miss your family."

"I don't know, I've never seen his face—"

"You've never seen his face?" Lady Une exclaimed. Quatre hesitated as shocked looks appeared on all of his sister's faces. He cursed himself inwardly and his inability to think before he spoke sometimes.

"Well—no he wears a mask when I see him but—"

"How do you know he is not horribly disfigured or maimed?"

"I don't think that matters but I've felt his face…there's nothing out of the ordinary."

'When? How do you feel his face and do not see it?"

"He doesn't wear it at night." Quatre felt his face go red at the giggles that started up around the table, but his step-mother raised her hand and it stopped abruptly. "Listen, I love him and it doesn't matter to me even if he was disfigured!"

"What if he was actually a monster? You said the magic of Fey is always at work."

"I know him better than that."

"And yet he won't trust his husband with whatever he hides under his mask!"

"I trust that he can't for whatever the reason may be! He's my fiancé and I—"

"Fiancé? You are not yet married? And yet you have lain with him? Quatre how could you bring such shame upon yourself!?"

Quatre looked down at his step-mother's outburst, practically shaking with anger and frustration, but he felt the warm heat spread across his face when all his sisters started to whisper amongst themselves. He looked up and saw Iria's shocked expression and suddenly felt sick. He looked back up at the Lady and rose from his seat, fists clenched against the tablecloth.

"I don't care if you think it's shameful, but I love him. I trust him, with everything that I am, and if he cannot show me his face, tell me his secrets, or marry me just yet then I will wait until he can!"

He stormed out of the dining hall, not listening to any of his sister's cries for him to wait, heading out the main doors and into the gardens. He didn't wait to see if the Bear was behind him, hoping he would understand that he wanted to be alone for a few moments, long enough to compose himself. He couldn't believe the Lady and all of her accusations! She was the one who pushed him to go with Trowa and the Bear in the first place and now, now that Quatre actually seemed happy, she seemed determined to paint Trowa as some sort of monster. He groaned and sank down into a bench across from a gently flowing fountain. He was starting to wish he had never come here.

"Son, why did you storm out from your sisters and the Lady?"

Quatre looked up startled at the sound of his father's voice in front of him. His father was standing with a small smile on his face, hands on his hips and looking down at Quatre with a strange look in his eyes…like they didn't really belong in his face. Quatre felt the unease from the day before return but he smiled back carefully.

"I just—they don't understand, Father. Tro-the Prince has his reasons for what he does and I'm all right with not knowing because I can feel…I know what's in his heart and it isn't something monstrous."

"Ah, so it is love. But, you must understand, your family is just worried about you. What if this is an enchantment? Some hold he has over you? Can you be so sure, my son?"

"Father, you said I was my mother's child not only because of my hair or eyes, but because of my gift, my empathy. It's stronger than it ever was before and I know what he feels is true."

His father nodded and took a seat beside him, placing a cold hand on Quatre's knee, sending a strange feeling spiraling down Quatre's spine—he had never been afraid of his father before. "Then do you think it is something else at work?"

"I-I think it might be the Prince who's under a spell."

"Perhaps he is just protecting you then, if he loves you as much as you think. Perhaps he will not confide in you because he wants to keep you safe, he does not believe you can help."

Quatre bit his lip and looked away. His father's words, though harsh, were something that he had entertained one too many times before. Is that what Trowa thought? Did he think Quatre was too weak to help and just wanted to keep him safe from any kind of danger? Maybe he didn't trust Quatre as much as he let on, not really. Maybe he hid from him; maybe he didn't want Quatre to help. He got up from the bench, his father following suit and placing two hands on either side of his shoulders, drawing the slender blond in for a cold embrace.

"I did not want to upset you, my son. Merely, I wanted to let you know you're not as helpless as you may believe you are. Perhaps all you must do is act, instead of wait." He placed a cool kiss to Quatre's brow before he walked off; leaving his trembling son alone in the gardens as quickly as he had appeared. Quatre stood still until the Bear came for him, answering his silent call and leading the blond back to the mansion.

The rest of the week sped by in a blur if movement and visits. Lady Une interjected her poor opinion of Quatre's relationship with Trowa at every opportunity she had, Iria and the twins defending him at every turn, but every little word worked deeper into the chinks developing in Quatre's resolve. His talk with his father remained between the two of them, and while he saw his father during his visit, it was mainly at dinner or in passing whenever he was in town. Quatre found solace in the Bear and Iria and began counting down the days he could return home to Tria. This wasn't home anymore and would never again be, and while he may miss his sisters, he couldn't take the sudden shift in his father's behavior or Lady Une's cutting remarks.

Finally, the time go home came and Quatre couldn't have been happier. He was packed and saying his goodbyes to his sisters, the Bear swamped with his many sisters telling him to make it home safely, when Lady Une appeared before him. She didn't spare any pleasantries or hugs, instead pressed something round into his hand, something with a smooth surface and red color. Quatre looked at the candle and back up, a question plain on his face.

"Use it and see for yourself what it is you sacrifice so much for."

He tucked it into his cloak but didn't say anything, turning away and climbing on board the Bear, waving goodbye to his family with a heavier heart than he had hoped for. His father was there and waved as well, a smile on his ever calm face, standing beside Iria and the twins, who were trying hard not to cry. Quatre leaned down and whispered for the Bear to leave, relieved they were leaving at last. They made it past the gardens and manicured fields when a scream from behind them made Quatre whip around, one hand steadying his body on the Bear and the other clutched at the utter darkness wrapping around his heart.

His father was surrounded by black smog that seemed to pour from his mouth and eyes, his own scream lending to his families' and the Lady Une. Quatre slipped off the Bear and stared as his father was dropped to the ground like a sack of flour, the black smoke still circling him, but Quatre could feel his father again, could feel his fear, sadness, and despair mingled with the worry he had for his family, the love he had for Quatre. The smoke descended and the connection was cut off…where his father had been was only a pit and Quatre screamed. He started to run back but a very human hand grabbed him and held him near the twilit border to the Fey. He didn't feel anything besides the utter hole where his father used to be, so when the two fingers pressed against a spot on the back of his neck, he didn't stop to think where the Bear was or why he could feel Trowa again. He only felt blackness.

* * *

When Quatre woke up, he knew he was in Tria, back in his own bedroom, with a circle of concerned people hovering around him, trying to force their concern and pity on him. He blocked it all out. He heard people explain that his father had been possessed and had been killed. That Quatre couldn't blame himself for what happened, even if it was all his fault. That Trowa would see him that night and that the Bear was all right, even though Quatre couldn't feel anything but the gnawing pit where he could still feel his father's death. He heard everything, just wasn't sure who said what and what his own thoughts were.

Trowa held him that night, and whispered words into his hair. Quatre cried and held onto him, loving that he was here and hating that he hadn't been. Hating that something from the Fey, something connected with Trowa, had killed his father. Hating that he felt this way in the first place.

He wasn't sure how long it was before he felt a kind of return to self, when Quatre opened his eyes and felt like he was more than just a hole and death, that he was himself. He pushed himself off the bed and paced the room, a thousand thoughts swimming through his head, focusing too little on the many condolence gifts from everyone he cared about littering his room. His hand buried deep into the cloak he was still wearing and bumped into the candle Lady Une had given to him before his father had been murdered. He pulled it out and looked at it, her words and his father's words (or were they the smoke's?) replaying in his head in a mixture of emotions he couldn't distinguish as his own.

It didn't take long for him to leave his room and make his way silently through the dark of Tria manor to Trowa's rooms, using his empathy to see whenever someone would come and hide until they were gone. He was still so confused, so hurt, so jumbled that he wasn't sure why he was doing this, only that he felt like he had to. He had to do something or he'd go mad. His father was gone…he wouldn't let anything more be taken from him and if Trowa couldn't see that, he's make him see that he could handle anything. There was a single match with the candle his step-mother had given him and he held it in his free hand as he pushed the door open to Trowa's room. He made his way by memory through the chamber to the bedroom and pushed the door open quietly, remembering absently that it could squeak at times.

The room was in darkness so he struck the match until a flame appeared and then lit the candle, illuminating the room in an eerie glow that Quatre thought should look warmer. He walked over to Trowa's side of the bed; his hand cupped around the flame until he leaned down and uncovered the flame beside a wash of auburn hair. Quatre bit his lip, steeled himself, and moved the candle down until it lit up a beautiful, unmarked face that was more handsome than Quatre could imagine. He smiled and let out a relieved, but confused, sigh as he memorized every detail of Trowa's flame-lit face. He was engrossed in his examination he didn't notice the pooling candle wax that dripped out and splashed onto Trowa's shoulder. The tall prince let out a hiss and started awake, hand shooting out and wrapping around Quatre's neck in a practiced movement, the lights coming on in the chamber immediately as if by magic.

Trowa's deep green eyes went wide when he saw it was Quatre he was strangling, letting the blond go with a despaired cry. Quatre backed away until his back hit the wall, staring in a kind of disbelieving stupor at what he had just did, at the pure hurt and betrayal that shone bright in Trowa's eyes. He felt tears of his own prick at his eyes and dropped the candle at his side.

"Quatre…how could you—everything's—if you had only waited for six more months, a full year and a day—"

"Trowa, I'm so sorry! I just wanted to help…I didn't mean to—I didn't know—"

Trowa tried to step towards Quatre but a fierce black wind swept through the manor, swept around him and he yelled out in frustration and hopelessness. He looked over at Quatre huddled against the wall and forced his limbs to move out of the wind, hurrying over and taking Quatre in his arms, pressing his lips against the frightened, confused, and hurt blond. He was pulled away by the wind but not before he filled Quatre full of forgiveness and understanding that the blond did not feel he deserved.

"Remember that no matter what happens, Quatre, I love you and always will."

"Trowa, what—"

The wind fully enveloped the prince and suddenly, the Bear stood where Trowa once stood, roaring in defiance and mingled with the many screams and yells echoing all around Quatre from the others in the manor. The howling rose to a crescendo and Quatre dropped to a crouch, covering his ears with his hands, blocking out all but the high toned cackle that sounded before all went silent. Quatre stayed where he was on the ground for a few moments longer before looking up at the upturned and destroyed room and the utter silence that was all around him. Quatre got to his feet shakily, placing his hand against the wall for balance and called out for anyone, his voice echoing in the quiet and his empathy coming back with nothing but his own fear and sadness.

"Trowa!"

* * *

Edited chapter for structure, clarity, and grammar. Enjoy!

Osco


	8. Chapter 8

Candlelight (8/25ish)

Author: Osco

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xS

Rating: R

Warnings: Lemony goodness, violence, language, magical happenings, and ugly Trolls attempting to ruin the story!

Summary: Retelling of the fairy tale, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" GW style. What if you made a mistake? What if the person you loved had to pay the price? How far would you go to save him? How about a place that can't exist?

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I am but a poor college student who has no hold over the characters whatsoever and is doing this as a pastime.

* * *

**Chapter 8: **_**East and West**_

Quatre stayed crouched against the wall for a few more moments, trying to process what exactly had happened, receiving nothing save for a resounding silence in response to his calls. His hand was shaking as he pressed it against the wall and used it to push himself up, his eyes darting around the destroyed room. All that was left of what he had just witnessed were the scattered bits of black dust from the black wind that had swept in and—Quatre felt something burning and terrible choke up his throat. He reached softly inside for that little pocket of warmth that always seem to be Trowa and drew back harshly, feeling nothing there. He took a ragged breath and forced his legs to move, to get him far away from the room and the red candle resting beside him. He wrapped his arms around his torso and hurried out of Trowa's room, stumbling into the equally silent and empty hallway, stubbing his bare foot on a piece of splintered wood on the way out.

He walked around the manor, calling out softly and loudly for anyone, for Sally or Cathy, Wufei or Hilde. For Trowa, even though he had seen the black whirlwind carry him away. He bit his lip to keep the swell of despair from erupting out in a scream, hot prickles of moisture dancing in his blue eyes the longer he looked and the feeling of utter solitude pressed against him. It was maddening to not feel anyone when he had been constantly wrapped by the emotions of others for the past six months. He looked and looked all the rest of the night, collapsing in the gardens just as the sun started to peek out over the horizon, casting the manor in a sickly gray light, as if it was cursed now as well. Cursed like all of his friends, like Trowa, for Quatre's mistake, for his complete foolishness. He felt like throwing up.

Quatre leaned back against one of the stone benches in the gardens, the very one he had first met Trowa he recalled with a shaky breath, and closed his eyes, trying desperately to control the raging guilt building behind his ears. He couldn't believe he had been so stupid, that he had let spiteful words influence him so much to betray the one person he never thought he would have. It all felt too much, his father, Trowa, everyone else, his guilt; the tears finally started to coarse down his cheeks, his hand swiping them away angrily, cursing himself that this was all his fault. He had been the one who lit his candle, the one who had let his anger and grief over his father's death cloud over his judgment; it made him so irrational that forget who was trying to help him, who loved him and held him. He had been the one who listened to words that made him blame Trowa for something he couldn't control.

His mind drifted back to what he had seen in the bedroom, how Trowa had transformed into his Bear before disappearing in the wind, a high and cold cackle heard above the screeching howls before all was silent. He smiled sharply at himself for not realizing what was going on until it stared him right in the face. Trowa only showed up at night, the Bear was only seen during the day unless he was traveling with Quatre. Trowa and everyone else talked about the Bear as someone who knew Trowa best, the mystery of having clothing that fit him perfectly when he arrived also had an answer. The same green eyes and the similarity between the Bear's emotions and Trowa's…Quatre laughed sadly at how blind he had been. Trowa and his beloved Bear were one and the same— and he had doomed them both. Quatre felt a stab of rueful regret at being angry or disappointed whenever he though Trowa wasn't there for him, because the Bear had and so had Trowa all along.

Quatre opened his eyes suddenly and rose to his feet as quickly as he could without stumbling, the memory of the huge Troll punching its way into his mind. Hadn't the Troll said that the Bear had spurned him and his granddaughter, and hadn't Quatre heard a very human cry that night when the Troll had left with the Bear? At the time, Quatre had forgotten all about the human voice he heard arguing with the Troll and had let out that angered shout, because not a moment later he had a sword at his throat. But now, now he could remember, and it all made sense, Trowa was troubled by two curses, that was why he was wearing the mask and why he only appeared during the night. That was it, Trowa had been cursed once before by the Troll's granddaughter and he was cursed again because…because the Troll had wanted Quatre.

"My fault again." His voice was barely audible, even to himself.

Trowa had mentioned something else too, something before he had been carried away, something about a year and a day. Quatre ran a hand through his blond hair as the reason why no one could tell him anything suddenly became clear in his mind. There had been some kind of time limit for Trowa, some kind of way for him to get out of the curse. A year and a day, was that how long Trowa had to be with someone before the curses were lifted, a year and a day without letting someone he was with know about the Bear, about his face? It must have been more specific than that, but that was all he could think of with such little information to go by. And what was the penalty of the curse Trowa and the others suffered for Quatre's failure? The nausea returned and he wanted to sit back down, but a sense of foreboding kept him from sitting, an idea that had finally illuminated its way past all his grief and guilt sending pure terror up his spine.

"They'll come for me," he whispered. The Troll's words left no doubt in his mind, that whatever may have spared him from being swept away with everyone else would not deter creatures who so clearly wanted Trowa to suffer. That Troll would come here and kill him, or maybe capture him too. He felt another trill of fear travel up his spine has he remembered those emotions that had slammed into him the last encounter he had with the Troll and his henchmen. He couldn't stay here, he had to leave. "They'll be here; I need to leave right now."

Quatre hurried away from the gardens and dashed back into the empty manor, ignoring the loud echoes his staggered breathing and footsteps left behind him as he rushed up the stairs and through the corridors. He flung open the doors to his own chambers and methodically set about packing different clothes for different sorts of weather. He had taken trips with Instructor Hamir when he was younger, so he knew what to pack and how to do it quickly and efficiently, throwing on a pair of soft and flexible leather boots over his bare feet. He slipped on a vest over his loose tunic, buttoning it close, tossing a simple and light, but sturdy cloak over his shoulders. He grabbed the satchel of clothing and hurried away towards the kitchen for some supplies, things he could carry for some time and not worry about it spoiling. He set down his packs and ran back outside towards Wufei's fighting dojo, not bothering to go through the lengthy ritual the dark eyed arms master usually had him go through each day before weapons practice.

He knew he needed something, some weapon should those creatures choose to follow him. He ran to the closet where Wufei kept the many swords, bows, and a colorful variety of other weapons, looking over something that wouldn't weigh him down but still be effective. His eyes drifted to the shotels he used the first time he fought Wufei and he quickly pulled them down, making sure to grab a scabbard and belt for them. He stopped by a closet Hilde had shown him one day and grabbed a few extra blankets and a bedroll before heading back to his packs, shouldering everything in a fluid motion despite his shaking hands. He almost ran out the door before a recalled that he didn't have any money, something he was sure he was going to need. He stopped by Professor S's study, another office Hilde had shown him on a slow day, and poked around before he found a lock box. It had been left open, probably because S had been working on it before—before everything happened. He made sure to take a good amount of money, taking an equal amount of each coin so he could barter better; the knowledge if he flashed nothing but gold around it would make him a target to any thief who happened to be paying attention was fresh in his mind.

He fled out through the gardens and didn't look back, only feeling the adrenaline fade away into bone-numbing tiredness once he reached the edge of the manor's grounds, resting his back against a trunk of an oak as the fact he really hadn't slept caught up with him. He stayed against the tree trunk for little more than fifteen minutes, trying to think of what to do next, trying to think of where he should go. He finally decided Heero and his kingdom was his best bet, the closest kingdom and also someone who was close with Trowa, someone who deserved to know what had happened. Someone who might be able to shed some light on the situation and give Quatre an idea of who might have cursed Trowa originally, and where the Troll Dermail could be found. He might have caused this whole mess, but he wasn't about to sit back and do nothing; he had lost his father, he would not lose Trowa too, not if he had a chance to correct his terrible mistake.

"I'm sorry for everything, Trowa," Quatre said softly. His fists clenched around the straps of his packs and he raised sea blue eyes to the sky, still brimming with sadness and regret but also full of something that was setting his veins afire. Determination. He would find Trowa and he would find a way to prove how sorry he was for betraying his trust. He had to; it was the only thing he could do to keep himself from drowning. "But I will find you, I swear I will!"

He started off in the general direction he knew Sive to be in, hoping he could arrive there within the week if he only stopped at night.

* * *

Quatre traveled for five days straight, only pausing to rest when he felt as if he was close to collapse, before arriving in a township near the edge of Tria, called Virgo, which rested only a few miles from the Sive border. He stayed in a small, somewhat run down inn for the night, asking anyone if they knew the quickest route to Sive's capital and to where Prince Heero might be found. He wasn't met with much help beyond a general direction to go and a local horse dealer who could sell him a horse to get there faster, which did little to assuage the heavy feeling settling over his heart, constricting and choking it, weakening with his empathy and making him feel constantly tired. He didn't sleep much that night, his dreams filled with dark laughter and black wind, Trowa's hurt and betrayed face swimming into the forefront, blaming and harsh.

He stopped by the horse dealer the next morning, but decided walking would be faster than any of the horses shown for sale, heading out of the town with little more than dawn gone, and made his way towards the Sive border well past dusk. He didn't slow even as night settled in and he felt the oppressive darkness reminding him of his weary muscles, determined to make it into Sive before he rested. It wasn't until he came upon an unmarked crossroad that he stopped and was forced to rest, but it was hardly relaxing as his mind raced as to which way he should go. He looked around for a few minutes, trying to locate some kind of sign or marker that would let him know which way to go, but found nothing.

"No, no, please, don't do this," he hissed. He swore and stood in the center, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do now. He could choose a road, but he knew nothing about the landscape of Sive and would have no idea if he was going the right way, but he very well couldn't trek all the way back towards Virgo and ask around more, especially when most had no interest in cities that existed outside their own little hamlet. He felt frustration bubble up inside, mingling with the horrible emptiness that had lingered from his father's death and Trowa's disappearance, and bit his lip to once again keep from screaming. He sank down and sat on the ground.

He was well prepared to stay there the entire night but a shrill cry behind him startled him straight to his feet, his hands flying to the pommels of his shotels on instinct. He looked around, not really noticing anything until his eyes came to rest on a little girl who was crying behind him. He wondered where she had come from briefly, but another wail sent the thought scurrying from his mind. He hurried over to the little girl, dropping down to his knees beside her, reaching hesitantly towards her, but not before reinforcing his weakened mental shields. "Little one, what is it? Why do you cry?"

She only wailed louder, a shrill screech that couldn't be a normal sound, but Quatre forced what he hoped was a reassuring smile across his face, closing the distance between him and the little girl and wiping away some tears on her cheek. He shuddered at the force of her distress but moved past it, taking her in his arms and rocking her back and forth in a motion he remembered his sisters doing to him when he was young. He made calming shushing sounds and whispered that it was all right, that she just needed to calm down and he would help her. He felt something change around him, felt his heart become lighter and he felt the little girl calm—calm and settle, but it was strange; it felt like her calming was mirroring his. Before he could focus on that more, she pulled away and broke the connection, wiping her eyes and nose before promptly wiping her hand on Quatre's shirt. Quatre just smiled at her, tucking a strand of midnight black hair behind her ear.

"Are you feeling any better?"

The little girl nodded, blinking enormous blue-green eyes up at Quatre, eyes that looked vast and ancient in comparison with the youth of the little girl. She pushed herself out of Quatre's embrace and onto her feet, the blond mimicking her actions but resting his palms on his knees and leaning down, making sure they were still eye level.

"Can you tell me what's wrong? Maybe I can help."

"It-it's my kitten!" She hesitated for only a moment before blurting out her reply, hands scrunching in little balls at the side of her face. She looked tremendously worried but Quatre just smiled at her all the wider. "He-he got stuck! I can't ge-get him free because he's too high up! Will you please help me, mister?"

Quatre nodded and let the little girl drag him down one of the forks, belatedly thinking that this detour would more than likely cost him a day in traveling time, a day that he wasn't sure Trowa or anyone else had. He couldn't very well just leave the little girl in the middle of the road though, and he had a feeling she wouldn't leave until she had found her pet; when he was a boy he once came home five hours past his curfew because he had been too busy trying to feed some of the friendly stray dogs around the city. He knew this little girl would be at least that stubborn, if not more. Her little hand gripped his tightly, a grip that seemed a little too strong for a girl as small as she was, and led him straight down one of the paths and into a cluster of trees that were tall and smelled fresh and clean. Quatre had never seen trees like this before, but he remembered Sally speaking of them, Pine she called them, the dark green spindles were a component the maids used in making sure the manor smelled fresh.

"He's stuck." The little girl spoke again so suddenly that Quatre started a bit before he focused back on her. "He got stuck in the tree and I can't get him out! He's too high for me to reach, but you're bunches taller than me, mister! I bet you can reach him!"

"Well, I'll certainly try." He smiled reassuringly at her, inwardly hoping the cat wasn't too high up in the tree. He had never really climbed trees when he was younger; the only tree Araaban offered had a branchless trunk that was much too rough to play on. He wasn't that confident in his climbing abilities.

She led him on for a few more paces before stopping in front of a huge and knotted tree that looked as old as time itself. Its base was huge, spanning at least thirty feet, the roots spreading up and far out of the ground, twisting with the surrounding foliage in a sinuous dance of green and leaves. The leaves looked as big as Quatre's face and were a mottled mixture of green, red and brown, the red glinting in the moonlight in a way that made the blond uncomfortable. The branches were thick and sturdy, so climbing it might not be a problem, even for someone as inexperienced as he was, and seemed to stretch well beyond the canopy formed by the surrounding trees. Quatre looked up, squinted his blue eyes in a focusing narrow, and indeed, there was a little cat, mewling sadly about forty feet off the ground. He swallowed and offered up a silent prayer to Allah and whatever Gods governed the Fey to not let him fall, not when he still had to find Trowa and all the others.

"Oh thank you, thank you so much, mister!" The little girl let go of his hand and all but shoved him towards the tree, bouncing on the heels of her tiny feet excitedly. Her eyes were smiling along with the rest of her face, but Quatre thought her spotted something else there, something strangely similar to expectation and calculation. It was odd for a little girl to look at him like that.

Quatre appraised the tree for a moment before he reached out and rested his hand on the tree trunk, but then drew back as if he had been burned, surprised by the pure emotion and sentience thought that pummeled into his unprepared mind. He stared at the ancient tree, his breath coming in unsteady gasps as he tried to calm his racing heart and head down. The little girl shouted for him to start climbing, morphing into a brat from the sweet little girl in almost no time at all. Quatre took a steady, deep breath and reached forward again, his mind ready for the tree this time but still staggering under the vastness and timeless quality of the tree's being. Quatre was visibly shaking from the prolonged contact as he started to climb, leaving his packs on the ground so not to weigh him down further.

The tree's awareness and emotions seemed intent on breaking through Quatre's already weak barriers, and it took every ounce of strength and determination Quatre had to keep climbing towards the cat. He nearly lost his grip a few times but kept bending his legs and reaching his arms, wrapping his fingers around the bruising bark and trying to keep himself from calling out, trying to keep himself from letting go. The tree's sadness and overwhelming bitterness that did get through Quatre's barriers were enough to drive anyone mad, but the blond kept climbing, kept reaching until he was eye level with a very small, sand colored kitten, sweat making his hair stick to his forward at an odd angle. He reached out after he braced himself against the tree for better leverage, gently reaching for the kitten with a hand that wouldn't stop shaking. The kitten regarded him with impossible large, all blue eyes that looked to swirl with starlight for a moment before it stepped forward and allowed Quatre to pick it up, cradling itself around his shoulder and neck as Quatre climbed back down. He was met with a few scratches and scrapes in his haste to get off of the tree and nearly cried in relief when he touched ground again throwing his body away from the tree with a gasp. The cat neatly jumped off him as he collapsed to the ground, sitting primly and calmly beside him as the little girl walked towards him.

"I'm very sorry I had you do that, Quatre, but unfortunately if I wish to aid anyone, they must first do something for me at great personal cost."

Quatre's brow scrunched together in confusion as he rolled up to a sitting position, turning around and fixing questioning blue eyes at how the little girl knew his name. His eyes widened when instead of a little girl he was met with the image of a beautiful woman, some years Quatre's senior in appearance, hair thick and dark as midnight, ocean colored eyes smiling at him that looked much older than her years. She was dressed in flowing robes of a myriad of color and had two shotels strapped to her back, a large scimitar belted at her waist. She had what looked like wings affixed behind her ears, a stream of attached silver stones glittering down her hair. Quatre lurched to his feet, his eyes and mouth still wide and fixed in an expression of wonderment as he looked at this stunning woman before him, who was smiling at him calmly and kindly. The little cat was still sitting quietly and peacefully in between the two.

"How do you—who are you? I thought that— weren't you a little girl?"

"I have many names, Quatre." The woman smiled brightly and let out a soft laugh, stepping forward and stroking the side of Quatre's face in a motherly gesture. "And many faces. I once was the little girl you saw, many ages past, just like I once was the woman you see before you."

"Are you not anymore?"

"I suppose it is a matter of interpretation. All that really matters is that I exist in the state I do now and that is who you see before you."

Quatre nodded, not entirely sure that made the most sense, but he could tell she wasn't lying. He looked back up at her and hesitated for a second before asking his next question. "How did you know my name?"

"I've been watching you for a very long time, Quatre 'raberba Winner," she smiled softly. "I suppose you could say I've been watching you your whole life, although I hope that doesn't scare you or make you uncomfortable. We all do, my sisters and I, we all watch over those who strongly impact the Fey, lands we have sworn to watch over and guard for many years."

"So…you're spirit?" Quatre asked the question haltingly and with more than a little uncertainty tainting his voice.

"In a way. Tell me something, Quatre, how much history on the Fey have you read up on since your return?"

Quatre was a little thrown by the 'return' part of her question, as his father's death had pretty much occupied his thoughts since he returned to the Fey but he didn't say anything. It didn't seem wise to nit-pick this woman. He bit his lip and mumbled something about the geography and basic history that explained the Colony Kingdoms he had read up on in his spare time, feeling a bit foolish for focusing so much time on only a small part of the Fey. She merely smiled at him in return, in a reassuring way.

"It is all right, I understand how vast the Fey can be for one so new to it. Have you come across histories covering the great Colony Wars and the resolution that ended up forming the Colony Kingdoms that you now know?"

"Uh no, I'm afraid not."

"Well, let me tell you a story then. Once upon a time, there were five kingdoms that fought against each other, spilling the blood of many upon the grass, staining the green ground crimson and causing the skies to weep in acrid tears. There was so much distrust and fear, Quatre, and the different monarchs and leaders could not overcome their hatred and let it control them, let it filter to their people. There seemed to be no end or peace in sight and many people were so without hope that they simply faded away into the darkness of their hearts…until something amazing happened. A princess from the desert and a spy from the forest met and began a friendship that should not have been allowed, at the same time an assassin from the mountains and an elf witch crossed paths, falling in love despite their own intentions. And another, a warrior magus from the East with a giant tiger as her companion received a most telling prophecy through flame, a prophecy that would link the five women, barely more than girls, together and would lead their lands to an everlasting peace, no matter the strife that may yet come.

"They each had a gift, something that made them powerful and dangerous, enough so that they commanded others to listen. They came together deep within the forests of Deux, hidden from their families and alliances, to form anew in hope to put an end to the destruction that plagued their homes. They formed an alliance and ended all battles across the Colony Kingdoms, but it was at a cost. They sacrificed their mortal lives to put an end to the wars and all other threats that ravaged their lands, spreading their power through the earth to be spread throughout the people, uniting them despite their cultural differences. They vowed to protect the Fey, not just the Colonies, until came those who could take over the burden, becoming much more in death than they had ever been in life, becoming legends and honored Ladies. Those girls were once my sisters and I."

Quatre was quiet for a moment as he stared at the beautiful woman, processing the story she had just told him in his already very hazy and crammed brain. "So-so you're like a protector spirit? Like a goddess of the Fey?"

"As I said, I have many names and can be many things, but I have one name that you may call me. You, my dear Quatre, you may call me Sandrock, and as for what I am, I am someone who can help you find someone precious that has been lost."

Quatre's eye went even wider and he inhaled sharply as the implications of what the beautiful spirit, Sandrock, has said. He felt something else deep within stir at her name, something that seemed old and much more powerful than he was, but it was ignored as thoughts of Trowa filled his head. Did she know where Trowa was, and more importantly, did she know how to find him? He was still tired and his head felt like it was pounding blood through his ears, but he felt something bolster his soul and kindle in the deep hole that was still occupying his heart. He felt hope spread through his veins to the very tips of his fingers like a wildfire and he felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes, uncaring if this beautiful woman saw them or not. "You-you know where Trowa is? Where? How do I find him? Is he all ri—?"

Sandrock held up a small hand, pressing it over his lips while the other rested against his shoulder, comforting him and calming him with the same sensation he felt earlier when Sandrock had been a little girl. A sudden realization pushed its way into his head; past the excitement and hope at being able to find Trowa, the calm he felt then and now were the exact same, and that calm mirrored within his own soul—he knew what she was.

"You're an Empath?" She smiled and nodded at him in return. "But I thought—wait, that's not important right now, Trowa is. Where is he?"

"It is actually quite important, Quatre, but I will not press you right now. As I said earlier, I cannot aid someone until they have done something for me, which you have, so I impart to you that the prince of Tria lies in a place that is East of the Sun and West of the Moon, trapped in the hold of two curses that, and even though they hold him tighter because of your actions, they are within your power to break. There is a great evil at work beyond what is apparent, Quatre, a grander scheme that is using the Trian prince as a catalyst, and if it is not stopped, the entire Fey will be at risk. That, above all else, is why I appear before you now, because it is you who has the ability to put an end to the evil that would threaten us all."

Quatre's mind wrapped around what Sandrock said, trying to fathom how a place east of the sun and west of the moon could possibly exist, even in the Fey, and the knowledge that he had somehow been drafted into being the savior of the Fey. He looked at her ocean blue eyes that looked so similar to his own in helpless confusion, fear, and anxiety, stepping out of her reach and leaning against a tree trunk, making sure that it wasn't that ancient tree. One hand buried in his hair and the other wrapped around his roiling stomach, and he closed his eyes in an effort to will himself out of this bad dream, to force his body to not throw up. It was just a little too much; the guilt was still eating away at what he did to Trowa, and combining with the knowledge that he was expected by some spirit goddess of the Fey to save everyone, he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep calm.

"How can I—I'm just a—I caused all of this!" He ignored how raw he sounded and tried to turn away from the warm hands wrapping around him, pressing him to Sandrock's comforting frame, her actions mirroring his earlier when she had the image of a little girl. It was futile though, and he leaned toward her embrace as everything whirling around in his head for the past five days came pouring out. "This is all my fault…how can you possibly think I can fix this? If I had never come, none of this would have happened! I just—I want him back…but I—I don't know how or…"

He trailed off and just let himself be held, closing tear stained eyes as Sandrock began humming softly to him, combing back his tangled hair, snarled with both dried sweat and his own stress-induced twisting. He could feel her affection, her love and faith in him which he wasn't sure he really deserved, cradling him against the turbulent storm that his emotions were causing in his head and heart. She held him until he felt the despair peel away, the hopelessness that had overtaken him from sheer overwhelming stress crackle and slip off him like a bad dream. He smiled faintly as he recognized the song she was singing, one from deep within his memory where he felt his mother.

"I know that song."

"Yes, you do. I sang it once long ago to help calm my sister when her emotions became too much for me to bear and it has lasted through the ages, and it seems, even into the Mortal lands."

"Sandrock, why do you—_how_ can you think I can do this?"

"Because I can see the depth of what you feel for the Tria prince and I have seen love like yours move the very stars in the many years I have guarded the Fey. I believe that you will succeed because you will try harder than anyone else in the Fey in trying to find and save your prince." She stepped back but kept her hands on his cheeks and smiling at him in a manner any mother would look adoringly at her child.

"But…how can someplace exist east of the sun and west of the moon? I don't think that's even physically possible and I don't—I've never been anywhere in Fey besides Tria."

"That is an answer you must discover on your own, but because you helped me, even when it was at such a personal cost to you, I have three gifts for you. The first is the knowledge of time that you have. Curses are never straightforward for they have more power in their complexity, but it is to your advantage…you have precisely four months and three days to find the prince of Tria before the curses fully hold him."

"But that—I turn eighteen in four months and three days. Why that date?"

"Because of the curse; if the prince's lover failed to wait the full year and a day time limit, then the date the curse would be fully enacted would be on the lover's next birthday, a cruel joke on the Troll princess' account to cause more pain to the prince." She reached into the folds of her robes and pulled out a staff that was intricately carved with what looked like ancient runes and star shaped blossoms. It was black and polished, smooth to Quatre's hand when he took it from Sandrock's outstretched one.

"This will help you keep track of your time, as the blossoms whither and the staff cracks, so does your time dwindle to find your prince. My second gift to you is this." She reached into another fold of her billowing robes and produced a pendant. It wasn't all that eye-catching, a simple copper metal that was unadorned and rather plain, attached to an equally boring chain, but Quatre felt something in his heart, the place where he kept Trowa, flip and so somersaults. She placed it over his head and stroked his cheek before stepping back, letting him examine it curiously.

"This is pendant is a rather outdated tool that Empaths used to use when they were training their gifts. It was once mine, but I have little use for it now and I believe it will do you a world of good." As if anticipating his question, she raised her hand and continued speaking, effectively stopping the flow of questions dying to burst from Quatre's lips. "You can feel the prince because it is to his emotions that you are so strongly attuned to. In time, this will help you focus and project emotions, as well as receive them, but it will always act as a connection to your prince, as long as your feelings for him remain so strong. I hope this will comfort you and help with the pain of being so separated from the person who holds you so completely can cause to an Empath."

"Thank you." Quatre was still cradling the pendant in his hand, reveling in the feel of Trowa again, even if it was muted and distant, at least it was there.

"Think of it as a compass of sorts; you will be able to feel the prince's emotions better the closer you get to him. Finally, my last gift is not an object, but rather, a guide through the Fey, for even though you may gain allies on your journey, where you tread will be unknown to even the most traveled. Therefore, I would like you to meet Nix."

Sandrock took a step to the side and flourished her robe, revealing the small, still sitting, sand colored cat who was looking up at Quatre with its huge, swirling eyes. On closer inspection, Quatre noticed that it didn't really look like a normal cat anymore. The fur was sand colored, but it shimmered copper and silver anytime it moved, which it was clearly doing now as it raised to all fours and padded towards him. There were markings down its spine and on top of very pointed ears there were two tufts of fur that were a reddish copper, the same shade as its rather large paws. It was no bigger than a kitten but it moved with much more confidence and grace, the whole picture completed by the small jewel like mark on its brow, a swirling midnight blue, the same as its eyes. Quatre looked down at the strangely exquisite creature and felt a profound feeling of being in the presence of something rare and out of legends. The creature, Nix, rubbed its small body against Quatre's legs and let loose a purr-like sound that had more of a yip to it than a meow, reminding Quatre of the desert foxes that roamed around Araaban in the summer.

"Nix is an Areenjan, a mystic Desert Cat of old. He has agreed to help you in any way that he can. Have you come across his Kind in your readings, Quatre?" Sandrock was looking at him kindly, smiling brightly as the slender blond knelt down and softly petted the pleased and content creature.

"Only stories," Quatre replied. He smiled sincerely for what felt like the first time in weeks, stroking the soft, ever-changing fur as it flashed from sand to copper and shimmered silver all over. "Mostly from Quattuon myths that Sally had me read…they're the most revered race of the desert but are rarely seen, and are thought to be more powerful than any mage or sorcerer when they choose to be. They only appear to those whose need is great and are free of impurities, so that's why there are really only stories of them and what they are like; I guess you made an exception for me, uh Nix?"

Nix growled low and arched his neck back, giving Quatre better access to a spot behind his very large ears, his eyes fixed on Quatre's and conveying a look that said that it was his choice to decide what made a person worthy to him, not some story. Quatre smiled to himself at the rather lengthy statement he gave to the creature, the Areenjan, but that seemed to be the only appropriate explanation. The Desert Cat seemed much more intelligent than humans at any rate. Nix purred loudly, as if he had plucked Quatre's thought straight from his head, which considering the myths and stories about Areenjans, it was highly possible.

"He will guide you and make sure your steps do not falter, no matter what you may face, even if he is young, much like you." Quatre rose back to his feet and looked into Sandrock's timeless face, her ageless smile and ethereal presence. Nix sat back down next to Quatre's feet and licked his paw clean, his purring and yipping quieted to nothing more than a soft hum. She took a step forward and embraced Quatre again as if he was her child, making Quatre smile softly and sadly, hugging her back before she pulled away gently, her gossamer presence and emotions clinging to his skin. "Have faith, my dear Quatre, and trust what you feel within your heart. Remember, I appoint this task to you, and it is you who must find a way; it is you who must or no one will be safe. Stay strong and keep the course, my dear one."

Sandrock stepped back and was gone as quickly as she appeared; a whirl of gold and brown swirling around her from her toes to her head, dissipating and leaving only a whisper behind. Quatre took a deep breath, one hand clutched around the black staff she had given him, the other toying with the copper pendant around his neck, and looked down to Nix, who was staring back up at him, patiently. He smiled and tucked the pendant under his tunic, almost sighing at the muted emotions of Trowa against his skin, placing his now free hand on his hip and cocked his eyebrow at Nix. It was still a lot to take in, Sandrock, Trowa's disappearance, the knowledge that he was supposed to save the Fey, but he wouldn't, couldn't, let himself give into the panic session that was looking more and more tempting the longer he stood there. He still had to get to Sive.

"Well, I hope you have a better idea of where we are and how to get to Sive than I do!" Quatre smiled down at Nix, trying very hard to keep in most of his worries and fears to himself. "Especially with a certain amount time to find Trowa…"

Nix nipped and batted at his leg before taking off down a path north, pausing only to look back and yip at Quatre, obviously voicing his opinion that he did know where he was going and that the silly human needed to follow him. Quatre didn't hesitate, immediately following the small creature, careful to keep his eyes on him as the night was inked darker and darker. He and Nix walked for another hour or so, until Quatre finally felt his exhaustion so acutely he stumbled and nearly fell flat to the ground, eyes drooping before they flew open and he jerked backwards. Nix stopped and sat down on his haunches, studying Quatre with a look the blond could only describe as curiosity and slight confusion.

"I'm sorry, I'm just tired," Quatre said. He leaned against a tree trunk and slid down, the rough bark breaking off in chunks on his cloak, forcing his eyes to stay open…he just needed to sit down for a minute, he didn't want to waste precious time. "I'll be ready in a moment, just let me—"

He broke off abruptly as Nix calmly walked over and climbed into Quatre's lap, walked around in a perfect circle and plopped down, seemingly discovering what it was that was plaguing his companion. He fixed swirling eyes on a bewildered looking Quatre, a clear command to sleep, before resting his head against Quatre's thigh, eyes slipping closed. Quatre looked at the Areenjan for a moment longer before smiling ruefully, resting his head back against the tree, the staff balanced against the trunk beside him. It wasn't comfortable, but within moments, he was asleep, his arms reaching up to wrap around the warm body gently. He was so dead to the world, he didn't sense the shift in Nix's emotions, the little cat raising his head and whipping his tail around, a ring of copper and gold forming a circle around him and his young companion, shielding him from anything that might be looking.

* * *

It took five blossoms to shrivel away on the staff, five blossoms and five days that Quatre followed Nix through the dense woodlands of Sive before they reached what had to be the capitol of Sive. Quatre couldn't stop the smile of pure relief from breaking across his face as he and the little Areenjan exited the woods, the sprawling and vast city taking shape along the horizon. He had made use of every hour of daylight, and well into twilight hours as well, only stopping for the night when his legs felt like they were going to give. It was harder than he originally thought, trekking through the forest, especially considering he grew up in a very flat desert, all the hills and slopes taking a toll on him as well as the changes in the air. He missed riding through the forest on the Bear—Quatre frowned as the familiar feeling of regret and guilt settle in his stomach as thoughts of Trowa filled his head.

Nix yipped and purred next to him as they started towards the city, Yueya if Quatre recalled the maps correctly, darting in between Quatre's legs in easily deciphered excitement. It took only a day for Quatre to learn just how fast Areenjans were, especially when they were young, like Nix was apparently. And the endless supply of energy he had…Quatre suspected that if he didn't need to stop and sleep, Nix could go for days and days before sleeping. He gave the excited cat an exasperated look as they continued down the well traveled path, making sure his staff didn't swing down and hit the swishing tail. As they neared the gates, he looked back down and felt a feeling akin to fear rise within him—what by Allah was he going to say to Heero? Would the taciturn and stoic prince even want to help Quatre after learning what he had done? He in all probability already knew what had happened, the gossip from Tria probably didn't take too long to filter here, and all anyone had to do was look at the manor to figure out went wrong. Quatre smirked sadly at the thought that probably everyone in Tria knew about the curse, it had just been him who couldn't know it seemed.

"So, do you think Heero is meant to help me? Do you even think he will? I know that he called Trowa a friend but…why would he help the person who damned the prince in the first place?"

Nix growled and swatted the blond's leg with his tail, admonishing him for the pity trip no doubt, before a random splurge of little yips and purrs of varying degrees left his mouth in what Quatre could only guess was a lengthy explanation of what would happen. He smirked at the little creature, wondering if Nix cared that Quatre couldn't understand much beyond the confidence the cat exuded. Probably not.

"Well, call me pessimistic, but I expect you to hold to your promise to protect me if Heero decides to sick those wolves of his on me."

Nix whined in his own version of exasperation.

"I'm just saying."

The little creature didn't respond and Quatre smiled softly at him as they passed into the city, the guard giving them a cursory once over before waving them on inside the walled city. Compared to sleepy Blume, Yueya was a bustling and hurried city, reminding Quatre much more of the Araaban market than the relaxed and carefree attitude nearly every city and village in Tria embraced. He blinked and gathered his bearings, the cacophony of emotions and people assaulting his empathy, which had grown much to used to solitude and the happy feelings of a little cat creature, taking a deep breath and his free hand going up to wrap around the copper pendant from Sandrock. Trowa's muted presence combined with his own centering asserted his barriers and defenses much quicker than he could have alone, and with one last deep breath, Quatre weaved his way into the crowded mass of people. Nix was yipping at his feet, navigating Quatre through the people on the least congested path, seemingly knowing exactly where he was going. Quatre didn't doubt he did.

When he wasn't trying to step on people's feet or hit anyone with his staff, Quatre looked around at the city, marveling at not only the size, but how it was literally carved into the surrounding forests and mountain, rising and falling in elevation down twists of cobbled streets. Araaban was bustling, but it was flat—it was almost unreal to Quatre that a city could be developed and thrive in such an odd location. He bumped lightly into a vendor's stand, knocking his thoughts back to the ground, and smiled apologetically at the annoyed looking vendor before hurrying off after Nix. He weaved in and out for another hour or so before Nix led him to a small courtyard that had a few stone benches and a lone fountain at its center. It was empty of people for the most part, which Quatre thought was a shame, because the fountain and the courtyard were both beautiful, the fountain displaying a statue of a young woman holding a sword in a beckoning motion while the other hand swept out in front of her.

"Where are we, Nix?" Quatre walked forward, his staff hitting the ground and echoing against the stone, trying to get a better look at the statue's fierce expression and the armor she was wearing, giving the appearance of wings on her shoulders. Nix yipped and purred at him, wrapping around his leg before jumping up onto the fountain's ledge and taking a seat, tail twitching copper and sand, silver streaking through. Quatre focused his own blue eyes on Nix's before looking back up at the statue, a name coming unbidden into his mind, inexplicably and uncontrollably leaving his lips in a whisper.

"Wing…"

Nix yipped in agreement. His tail swished once more, brushing against the water and sending ripples scattering out from the two of them. "One of Sandrock's 'sisters,' right Nix? One of the others girls she mentioned in her story, but I wonder why I knew her name…or what she's doing here."

"There's a statue of her here because this was her home." Quatre felt a chill go up his spine as a very familiar voice interrupted his musing with their coldness coupled with the cool metal pressing at his back. Apparently his earlier assessment of his welcome had been correct. "But this is not your home, Quatre…and your home is lost because of you."

"Heero," Quatre began. He could feel the simmering rage beneath the collected voice of the prince of Sive. He turned around slowly and met the deep blue, angry eyes that were full of accusation that Quatre felt he entirely deserved, the sword hovering at his chest now instead of his back. Heero wasn't alone, Quatre could feel that much with his empathy, but he was the only one visible, which did nothing to ease his fear or guilt. "I'm not here to cause any trouble, I just—"

"You've already accomplished that, haven't you?" Lesser men would have crumpled under the glare that was leveled at Quatre, and he nearly did, his hand automatically gripping the staff harder and the other shaking and itching to reach up and clasp the copper pendant. But he didn't back down and met Heero's glare with a look with one of his own, one that tried to convey how sorry he was but that he was trying to fix everything he had caused. Heero did not appear moved and his stoic face twitched into a vicious frown as he took another step forward, his sword angling up towards Quatre's neck. Quatre leaned back and tried to calm his torrent of emotions so he could explain to Heero that he was looking for Trowa, that he had met Sandrock, everything else, but it stuck in his throat and the blade inched closer.

Luckily, Nix was not ruffled by Heero's glare or Quatre's guilt and calmly stepped forward, his tail swishing in a swift motion and sending Heero back several spaces, eyes wider than usual as he recovered from the invisible blow. Quatre sank down to sit beside Nix and closed his eyes in relief, still trying to get the resurging guilt and regret under control in addition to the blame from Heero which had been all too clear. When he opened his eyes again, Heero and the other soldiers who had been hidden were all visible, staring at the little puff of copper and sand fur that was sitting quite confidently on the fountain. Quatre reached out his hand and scratched behind Nix's ears, earning a deep and resounding purr that seemed unnaturally loud for something so small, yipping happily as Quatre got back to his feet. He met Heero's stare for a third time and was surprised to find the hostility and anger still there, but greatly diminished by uncertainty and a little bit of amazement.

"You have a Desert Cat traveling with you." Heero didn't ask; his voice and face didn't give away what his eyes did.

"Yes," Quatre replied. Nix yipped in agreement.

"Explain."

"Well, I'm trying to find Trowa and Sandrock told me to take Nix with me because he knows places in the Fey that others don't, which I think I'm going to need because she said that Trowa is in some place that's 'East of the Sun and West of the Moon' and I don't think that's even possible, so he's supposed to be my guide and—"

"Sandrock? The Lady of the Desert told you where Trowa is and to take the Desert Cat with you?" Heero's constant composure was completely shattered at Quatre's word vomit, a very surprised look on his face that was only slightly less dumbfounded than the exclamations of the soldiers around them. "One of the Five Ladies told you where to find Trowa?"

"Well, she told me that I have to find Trowa and kind of stop some kind of plot to take over the Fey that's using Trowa as a catalyst, and then she gave me this staff, this pendant, and Nix and told me to follow him, which I have been doing for the last five days right to this courtyard where you showed up with a sword to my back." Quatre was sure it was his exhaustion and guilt that was fueling his slightly hysterical ramblings. Or maybe it just was nice to vent this out to another being other than a too confident and unworried cat.

Heero's eyes went to both the staff and the pendant when Quatre showed them before staring back at Nix, who was presently cleaning his paw unconcernedly. He closed his eyes and seemed to regain his stoic attitude, waving his men off to stand down, most of who had already stood down involuntarily as they stared at amazement at the fabled Areenjan who had bonded with the blond from the Mortal realm.

"I think you need to explain this to J. He may have an idea of where this place you searching for might be."

"Wait, you're not—I thought that you were—you're helping me?"

Heero nodded tersely. "If one of the Five Ladies, and the little seen Lady Sandrock at that, appeared to you, gave you gifts and advice, and led you here, in addition to gaining the trust and companionship of a Desert Cat, then I'm obliged to help you as the sovereign of Sive, the homeland of Lady Wing, the Assassin of the North."

His face lost some of its harshness for a moment as he looked away and back to Quatre, who was still regarding him with a befuddled, but relieved, expression. He heaved a sigh and gave Quatre a normal stare, one that Quatre had grown used to and he felt a kind of acceptance and forgiveness drift off the impassive young man. Quatre breathed it in like a dying gasp, looking at Heero in question as to why he was forgiving him so easily. It couldn't just be because he had met Sandrock; Heero didn't seem the type of man to be easily swayed by other opinions, even if they were the opinions of goddesses.

"Why did you—"

"I warned Trowa this could happen," Heero said calmly. "That perhaps one curse could be overcome, but not two that were so intertwined and restrictive…that even if you grew to love him, it might not be enough to stop the curses. He never did take Dorothy serious enough when he should; I doubt anyone would have been able to break the curses as they were."

"That doesn't excuse what I did…I shouldn't have let my grief over my-my father control me. I shouldn't have blamed him like I did…I should have trusted him. I really am sorry, Heero, but I'm going to find him!"

Heero didn't say anything, just nodded and motioned for Quatre to follow him, which the tired blond did, the soldiers still looking at him and Nix in amazement as they navigated through back alleys and shaded archways, Heero walking beside Quatre in silence, glancing down at the cantering cat-creature every now and then, a small smirk playing on his face when he did. In what seemed like no time at all, Quatre found himself staring up at the large manor of Sive, entering in through a side entrance that the blond guessed Heero used more than the main entrance, the soldiers dropping off to regular posts once back inside. Quatre smiled as the wolves he remembered accompanying Heero their first encounter came bounding out, obviously remembering the blond. Nix sniffed indignantly and kept following Heero up the stairs as Quatre petted some of the wolves absently.

Where Tria manor had been warm and welcoming (a large part, Quatre attributed to Cathy), Sive Manor was much less personal and seemed efficiently ran. The blond wasn't surprised. The Doctor J was waiting at the center of the entry hall, that same creepy smile in place, the light glinting off his goggles in an eerie way that made Quatre shiver internally. He wasn't surprised that J was waiting either. Heero didn't seem to notice or care, tossing off his cape carelessly onto a nearby chair, only nodding at J in greeting and unaffected by the creepy smile in return.

"So, I hear Trowa, and his household, have been swept away because of a little candlelight." J smiled at the sad look that overtook Quatre's face, which made the blond want to sick Nix on him; he didn't think the cat would agree though. "And his blond farm boy is prepared to look across the Fey to find him, eh? Well, at least you are willing to acknowledge your own mistakes and try and correct them; that counts for something. And look at this! An Areenjan accompanies you…you must not be completely lost then, eh?"

"J," Heero said shortly. "He's spoken with Sandrock. She appeared to him and told him to find Trowa, gave him the gifts and the Areenjan to do so."

"Ah! You don't _give_ anyone an Areenjan, they choose to aid, Heero my boy! Not even a Great Lady could force a Desert Cat to help if it did not want to." He swiveled his attention back to Quatre. "Sandrock, eh? Ah yes, I see her mark on you; the pendant…it was hers, I believe. Consider yourself fortunate, Quatre, for of all the Five Ladies, Sandrock is the most elusive and picky to whom she shows herself to. I wonder what made her appear to you, something in the blood, eh?"

Quatre didn't know how to respond to that, because he honestly had no idea why Sandrock had appeared to him, especially if she didn't show herself too many people as J and Heero suggested. Heero saved him though, cutting his hand across his body in an impatient motion.

"Sandrock told Quatre that Trowa lies somewhere East of the Sun and West of the Moon. Do you know where that is?"

J cackled and shook his head. "Never heard of it, but doesn't mean it doesn't exist, and I would trust Sandrock, the Lady of the Desert, more than an old man! I would trust in that little Areenjan and let him lead you to where you need to go. He may not know where this place is that you seek, but he will know where to take you so you may find it. But, before you go off again, I would suggest resting here for a night, as you look like you're an inch from death."

Quatre didn't care to disagree with J, mainly because it was very probably he was right, just smiled thankfully at Heero's nod of approval. He was asleep before he even undressed, flopping down on the bed and dead to the world as his head hit the pillow. Nix curled next to him and waved his tail again, illuminating the room in copper and gold before dissipating back into darkness.

* * *

"I wonder why we came here, I mean, it would make more sense if it was just me, as I had no idea that Heero and J wouldn't know anything, but I'm sure you knew they wouldn't know anything."

Quatre fixed Nix with a look as he changed into a fresh pair of clothing after the first bath he had in five days; river water just didn't have the same effect as soap. He buckled the soft brown breeches and threw a dark green tunic over, buttoning a dark brown vest over and tucking his pants into the dark, leather boots. He ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, trying to shake the last remaining moisture out, and rolled his eyes as Nix went on cleaning his back, completely ignoring the blond's question.

"Fine, don't answer me. I just hope this wasn't a waste of time…even though it was nice to have Heero kind of forgive me."

Nix purred deep in his chest and switched sides on his back. Quatre smiled at the little Desert Cat and slipped the copper pendant over his head, tucking it inside his shirt so it rested against his skin.

"Well, it's not like we have a lot of time to socialize. I suppose we should get going, try to find someone else who knows where a place can be East of the Sun and West of the Moon. Maybe we could try Quinque…Master O seemed knowledgeable, and if you're with me, I'm sure he won't try to behead me for sending Wufei only Allah knows where…or maybe Sandrock, no?"

Nix yipped and followed Quatre out of the room.

Quatre collected his packs from a few servants in the main hall, looking over the black staff and frowning at another shriveled flower that had withered over the night. Another flower, another day gone, more time vanished; Quatre swallowed down the sticky feeling of helplessness that welled up in his throat at the thought. It wouldn't do anyone, especially Trowa, any good to dwell on something he had no control over, much less overcome. He set his jaw and marched down the rest of the stairs and back to the main entry hall, staff echoing in a gentle rhythm alongside his strides. Unsurprisingly, both Heero and J were waiting for him, Heero silent as ever and J grinning in his distinct manner.

"Thank you both for letting me rest here," Quatre said politely. He glanced down at Nix, who was sitting at his feet and staring at their hosts with unwavering attention, before focusing again on the prince of Sive. "I can't linger though. I promise I will do everything in my power to find Trowa and everyone else."

Heero nodded while J cackled at whatever humor he found in Quatre's words. He smiled wanly once more and turned to leave, making it to the large doors before he noticed his furry guide was still sitting in the same place, swirling blue eyes fixed in front of him. Quatre called out for Nix to come on, but the little cat thoroughly ignored him, instead rising to his feet and padding towards J and Heero. He yipped and rubbed against Heero's leg, tail wrapping around in a possessive manner, blinking his huge eyes into Heero's rather perplexed irises, his shock fairly visible on his face. Nix purred deep once more and sat down in front of Heero, yipping and growling and staring at the stoic prince, cocking his head towards where Quatre was standing. He glanced at J once more before yipping loudly and walking behind Heero's legs and nudging his leg with his head in Quatre's direction. Heero had the question poised but didn't ask it, so J took care of it and translated the little Desert Cat's actions.

"I think he wants you to go with him and the farm boy, Heero" J heckled.

"What?" Quatre replied. Nix growled low and wrapped in between Heero's leg once more before starting towards Quatre, throwing a look back Heero's way.

"It is quite simple, the Areenjan obviously came here for a reason, and since we did not know where this place you're looking for is, it stands to reason there was another reason…and it seems you're it, Heero my boy."

"So…I'm supposed to join Quatre, because a cat thinks I should." Heero did not sound entirely convinced in trusting the intentions of a cat, even if it was a mythical and very powerful one.

"Perhaps not because of Nix, but instead because of Sandrock, and quite possibly all of the Great Ladies, wish that you do. Sandrock has sent a guide that led Quatre here, led him here to you. If the Ladies wish it, I would heed their messenger, unless you'd like their wrath upon you, which I've heard that the Lady Deathscythe can be especially vindictive when ignored…"

Heero didn't say anything at first, glancing up at Quatre who was torn between looking too hopeful (as the idea of trekking across the Fey seemed much more appealing with the experienced prince at his side) and uncertain, as he remembered Sandrock stating that this was his task. She had said that aid would come along the way but…he still wasn't sure. But, if Nix was sure, he supposed it was smart to trust the little cat. Heero stood impassive for a few moments more before letting out a grunt of agreement, earning a very pleased noise from Nix who promptly bounded forward towards Quatre in happy little skips. Quatre waited for another ten minutes as Heero had his things gathered, no doubt all already packed away and ready to go at a moment's notice. Heero buckled his sword to his waist and through a cloak over his shoulders as he made his way to Quatre and Nix, J trailing after them in his slow shuffle.

"I leave Sive in your hands, J," Heero said. He narrowed his expression at the old man for a moment, much like a parent scolded a child to not touch things when they were away. "If I find that we're at war when I return, I will kill you."

Quatre wasn't sure how serious Heero was, since J only laughed and agreed, but he decided he didn't need to know. Nix padded out the door, yipping at the gates once in an obvious call for the other two to follow him. Heero nodded once more at J before he strode out in measured steps, Quatre falling in step beside him, glancing once back at J's grinning visage, trying to place why it looked so familiar. He knew he had seen J smile like that before but…but for some reason he felt like he had seen it from someone else before, when he was younger or maybe more recently. Nix's yipping dragged him back out of his thoughts and he turned back, glancing to his left at Heero's focused expression, the sound of Sive manor's doors shutting behind them.

"Thank you, Heero," Quatre said honestly and quietly. Heero glanced over at him, his cold, blue eyes glinting as gently as Quatre had ever seen. "I don't—I probably wouldn't be able to do this by myself."

"If the Lady Sandrock believes that you can, then she's probably right. You'll find Trowa, Quatre, and I'll help in any way necessary. If one of the Great Ladies has trust in you, I suppose I can too." He didn't say anything in response to the bright and grateful smile that Quatre felt bloom over his features, just tightened a glove over his right hand. Quatre laughed softly and nodded, his hand encircling the copper pendant as he turned his attention back forward, hopeful that maybe, just maybe, he could do this after all. The pair walked out of the city, following little Nix on a road that would lead to a place that could only exist in myth; a place East of the Sun and West of the Moon.

"We're coming, Trowa, Cathy, everyone. Just hold on—we'll find you."

* * *

Edited chapter for structure, clarity, and grammar. Enjoy!

Osco


	9. Chapter 9

Candlelight (9/25ish)

Author: Osco

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xS

Rating: R

Warnings: Lemony goodness, violence, language, magical happenings, and ugly Trolls attempting to ruin the story!

Summary: Retelling of the fairy tale, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" GW style. What if you made a mistake? What if the person you loved had to pay the price? How far would you go to save him? How about a place that can't exist?

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I am but a poor college student who has no hold over the characters whatsoever and is doing this as a pastime.

* * *

**Chapter 9: **_**Dreams and a Seer**_

"You know, for being some kind of legendary mythical creature who is supposed to be our guide, I'm not entirely sure you know the best routes for us mere humans to take, Nix."

Quatre received a very annoyed yip in response but he was too busy staring at the flat slab of rock before him to spare the cat a look. Heero merely grunted beside him as he took a step back and surveyed the cliff side directly in their path, which according to Nix's various yip and growls, was the quickest way out of the Colony Kingdoms and into the rest of the Fey. Quatre only knew the neighboring kingdom's name, Noventa, and that it was a country within Fey that was home to not just humans, but all manner of people and races. Quatre remembered meeting merchants from the small, but rich nation one day in the market with Sally, two men perfectly normal as far as humans went and the other two only half as tall as Quatre and sporting wild hair, furry hands and feet, and sharp teeth that looked menacing whenever they smiled. Gnomes, Sally had whispered to him when he couldn't stop staring.

He let out a heavy sigh and cocked his head upwards, staring at the wall of rock that seemed to block off their path, resting his hands on his hips and rocking back on his heel as he tried to think of how he was going to get up. Climbing seemed the most obvious answer, but Quatre wasn't entirely sure the narrow wedges and gaps within the rock were enough, and if they couldn't climb, then they'd have to turn around, which would take time. Time they didn't have, Quatre thought darkly as he glanced at his staff, thirty-seven blossoms withered away, the thirty-eighth the next to go. He had calculated the time he had based on the four month and three days until his birthday; he had begun this journey with one hundred and twenty five days, but was now left with a mere eighty-seven days before he turned eighteen and lost Trowa. He didn't have time to backtrack, especially since it had taken him and Heero so long to cross out of Sive and through Quinque, even with Nix leading them on paths that looked ancient and a few that even Heero hadn't known about. When they entered Noventa and then onto other countries within, Quatre had a feeling he and Heero were going to have to invest in horses if they had any chance in finding Trowa within the time limit.

Quatre shook his head and focused back at the problem at hand, it did no use to worry about horses when he had a rock face to overcome first. He looked around for some sort of decent foothold or stray plant to grab, anything that could help him get started. His search was not successful and a let out a frustrated noise deep within his throat, earning Nix's attention. The Desert Cat did not seem moved by Quatre's dilemma and promptly leaped onto a narrow slab of rock, and gracefully began climbing up the rock.

"That's great, Nix, but I don't think that—"

Heero also promptly began scaling the rock, looking completely unruffled as he found narrow purchase after narrow gap, his packs hooked around his waist and back tightly with flexible rope. Quatre had been unsure why the stoic prince had insisted on buying some of it in the last Quinque market they had been in, but now he had his answer. He reached for the springy rope that Heero had left behind for him, strapping his packs down tight and using the metal hooks to secure it all in place. He tucked the staff against the packs and took a deep breath, holding the copper pendant for a second, for morale or as a death wish, and tucked it back inside his tunic. He looked up at where Heero was and tried to mimic his path, step he had and grab where his hands had. He could barely find purchase against the smooth and solid rock, the gaps and wedges providing barely any leverage, but he tried to ignore it, tried to just focus on Heero and his movements.

He continued in this pattern for what seemed like the next hour, but Quatre couldn't be sure; he knew his entire body ached and burned as if it had been three days. He glanced up at Heero and reached for a small wedge of rock, pulling his body and packs up with a small hiss from between clenched teeth, his feet finding a narrow ledge. He felt the loose rock shift under his feet and pressed himself closer to the Cliffside, took a deep breath and paused. He wasn't sure how far off the ground he was, but he knew it was far enough to permanently hurt him if he fell. He had seen people hurt their backs before when he was a boy, mainly when thrown off a spooked horse; sometimes they were confined to chairs the rest of their life, sometimes they couldn't even move their necks.

"Reach to the right, Quatre, to the right and up." Heero's voice was muffled and labored but he was definitely above him and to the right, so Quatre trusted his words and reached out slowly and cautiously to the right and up. After a few moments of searching, he found a decent hold and an equally more stable ledge and pulled his body over very slowly, letting out a relieved laugh once he was balanced again.

"I've never really done a lot of rock climbing before," Quatre breathed out. He looked up and mirrored Heero's movements and rock choices. "You know, living in Araaban and all. Desert, not a lot of mountains."

"We're over halfway up. There are more ledges up here, it'll be easier."

Quatre didn't respond as he kept his attention on climbing. It was easier than when he first began climbing as they neared the top of the cliff, but he wasn't sure he appreciated the ease, his muscles moving sluggish to him and feeling boneless. The sun started to set by the time they both reached the top, Heero rolling over onto the cliff's top and grabbing Quatre's arm, helping pull him up the rest of the way. Quatre let out a deep breath and sat down, sweat dripping down his brow and back, unhooking the springy rope from around his packs, grabbing the staff before it fell and hit the ground. Heero was doing the same, albeit in a much more measured way that didn't reveal how exhausted he was as well; Quatre could feel it as well as his own, making his own eyes droop a bit before he gave himself a rough shake.

"Well, I'm glad that's over!" Heero grunted in reply, a grunt that Quatre was beginning to interpret as 'yes.' "I suppose we won't really cover too much more ground tonight, should we just rest here?"

"It's the most logical choice."

"Good, I'm exhausted." Quatre shrugged off his packs and glanced around for Nix. He had lost sight of the little cat once he started climbing, but figured he had been helping Heero find rocks to grab. He found the sandy-copper cat come out of the surrounding woods, his fur flashing a silver sheen in the moonlight, holding two very dead, fat rabbits in his little mouth. He set them down in front of Quatre and Heero with a tremendous amount of pride, his swirling blue eyes bright as he purred. Quatre wondered briefly how a cat as small as Nix was could even carry both of those rabbits back…they looked bigger than he was. "Thank you, Nix. And I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier."

Nix padded over and rubbed against Quatre, purring very loudly in a way that told the blond he was forgiven for doubting. Quatre smiled and scratched Nix behind his very large, pointed ears.

Heero didn't thank the little Areenjan, but his lips did seem to quirk slightly into a smirk as he glanced down at him, which seemed to please Nix well enough, a happy yip leaving his small body. He set about cooking the rabbits while Quatre worked on clearing the area, brushing aside branches and bits of rock, which was considerably easy considering they were on a smooth surface of stone. It was a habit they had adopted over the past month they had been traveling together, and it worked for the most part, for which Quatre was thankful for; Heero was not a sociable person and that attitude seemed to triple when he traveled. Quatre was happy to be able to prove he could pull his own weight, even if this was the first cross country trip he had ever taken. Traveling with the Bear, with Trowa, hardly counted as traveling as he and Heero were. He smiled at the thought of Trowa but brushed it aside and rolled out the bedrolls and started setting up the canvas shelter Heero had brought with him.

"I wonder if this really saved us time," Quatre wondered aloud. Heero "Hn-ed" in response but didn't voice anything further. Heero hadn't been familiar with this trail and had voiced skepticism when Nix had revealed it and made it clear this was the way he was going to lead them down. "I hope it did, any time saved is helpful."

Nix yipped and batted at Quatre's leg, bounding towards the edge of the woods that rested atop the bluff, turning around and flicking his tail after him in a 'come here now' gesture. Quatre finished tying down the canvas shelter and got to his feet, following after the little cat with an indulgent smile. The cat led him to a small clearing of treetops still within their campgrounds, and he gasped at the view he was given of the area beyond the mountain. Down the hill was, without a doubt, a border with a rather large city resting not even ten miles away, its blue lights blinking in the darkening evening in a playful greeting. He glanced down at Nix, who again, look supremely pleased with himself, and pulled the little cat up into his arms. Nix purred deeply and nudged Quatre's cheek before he wiggled out of the blond's hold landing lightly on his feet and heading back towards the camp fire, eyeing the rabbits Heero was cooking with great interest.

"There's a border and a city down this hill, Heero!" Quatre exclaimed. He sat down with and smiled despite his muscles' protest with his movements, thinking the pain he was likely to be in the following morning was well worth it too already be in Noventa. "It's probably only half a day's hike down to it. I think that path really did take us straight out of the Colony Kingdoms and into Noventa! Is there any other country or city that could be down there?"

"Not likely." Heero set down the cooking and headed to the view point to see for himself, a contemplative look on his normative emotionless face when he returned. "That's definitely the Noventa trading city, Alliance. You can tell by the placement and the blue lights it's famous for. Alliance is known for the Ice Sprites that live in the surrounding mountains and visit the city when they wish, leaving a blue dust continually coating the city's lights."

"Alliance? That's an odd name for a city," Quatre mused. He took a cooked rabbit from Heero, breaking off a foreleg and a hind leg for Nix, who purred happily as he began eating.

"It's named in honor of the Five Ladies." Heero methodically ate his rabbit, with the kind of precision a caretaker of Araaban might have when handling a corpse. Quatre just smiled and took a long draught of water, deciding there was probably nothing in his life that Heero did messily or without thinking things through. He waited for Heero to continue, but decided with a huff that the stoic prince was ten times worse than Trowa when it came to finishing a story.

"And? New to the Fey, remember? The only stories I know about the Five Ladies are what I've been told by Sandrock, and she just gave me a brief overview—mainly because I think she saw too much more information would send me into a stress-induced fit."

Heero glared with a mouthful of rabbit before he swallowed and set aside his food. "Alliance is the first city where the Five Ladies went after meeting in the forests of Deux, now the property of Sanq. As the legends go, they didn't get along that well in the forests so they traveled into Noventa and into this city, which was more of a trading outpost at the time, to try and learn more about each other. Sandrock, the Lady of the Desert, was who directed them to the outpost, following a vision given to the Warrior from the East, Nataku. It was in this outpost that the Five Ladies saved a group of village children who were being preyed on by a Golem that lived in the woods nearby. Alone, they wouldn't have been able to do it, as Golems are known for being hard to kill, but together, and under Sandrock's guidance, they were able to kill it. So, this is where they officially cemented their alliance, and later when they sacrificed their lives for the Fey, this city named itself in honor of them and that event."

Quatre sat back, marveling inwardly at the history that made up the Fey, history that he had never thought to learn. He wanted to know everything about these women, everything about Sandrock, Wing, whoever Nataku was, and the other two. He stayed silent until Heero was finished with his meal and picked up his sword to begin his evening exercises, picking up his own shotels and following suit, albeit, in a different set of motions and movements. Nix was curled up on a rock, watching them both with unwavering concentration, tail twitching silver and copper as it flicked to and fro beside him.

"What were their names, Heero? I mean, other than Sandrock, and Wing I guess. You mentioned Nataku, where was she from? What about the other two?"

Quatre felt exasperation roll off Heero has he executed a fluid attack of thrusts and slashes with his sword. "Nataku was from Quinque, and was an apprentice Mage for one of the many princes of the Emperor at the time. Other than her, there was Deathscythe, the Witch of the West, and she was from Deux, and Heavyarms, the Spy from the South."

"Those are certainly odd names for a group of girls." Quatre couldn't imagine what inspired a parent to name a girl child Heavyarms. He moved gracefully in a half circle slashing his shotels down quickly, just like he used to with Wufei every day.

"Wing and Heavyarms were pseudonyms, considering that one was a professional assassin and the other was a spy, that eventually were adopted as actual names by those who loved them. Nataku and Sandrock were their actual names, and Deathscythe was an honorary title given, because of her preferred weapon and her power, that was adopted as her name as well. Elves are known for their unorthodoxy when it comes to names."

Quatre shot a look over at Heero, pausing in his exercises at the soft feeling of regret he felt filter off from the stoic prince. He felt a sliver of confusion over the unusual emotion for the composed prince of Sive before Sally's voice rang his head, words from close to four months ago. Words about Heero's majority some time ago and about an Elven bard named Duo.

"_You would have liked him, Quatre, and he would have liked you too."_

Quatre lowered his shotels and watched Heero continue to practice, his sword flashing as it moved quick and deadly in the night and reached out softly with his empathy. He could still feel the gentle regret that Quatre would never have believed to come from Heero had anyone else been near, but it was smothered now with a feeling Quatre had a hard time identifying. It was a complex mixture of anger, frustration, fondness, attraction and a thousand other things; Quatre vaguely thought it felt like love, a different version of what he felt from Trowa everyday he touched the copper pendant. He blushed and looked away, feeling guilty for peeking inside such an obviously private section of Heero's mind. He hated to think that he was starting to become more nosy, more uninhibited when it came to invading people's minds the more he practiced his empathy and the more he used it. He remembered a time walking with Trowa when he refuted that he would ever do such a thing…and here he was. The ever present nausea crept up again and he swallowed thickly, reeling back in his gift and closing himself off within his own mind. He felt the question spill out of his mouth, however, before he could think to stop it.

"Have you met any Elves, Heero?"

Heero stiffened harshly, and then continued with his exercise, his eyes hard and a steel wall firmly around his mind slammed up. "I'm sure you already know the answer to that, spending time with Sally like you did. I'd appreciate it if you didn't use your empathy to satisfy your curiosity about Duo."

Quatre cringed slightly under the glare Heero sent his way, guilty because he knew he shouldn't have pushed and yet had, without even second guessing what he had been doing. He sat back down near Nix and his bedroll under the canvas shelter, stroking the Areenjan's soft fur and smiling softly at the gentle, comforting feelings he felt Nix send his way. He kept quiet the rest of Heero's exercises and tried to think of something other than Heero's emotions surrounding a pair of laughing violet eyes. He wasn't all that successful but at least Heero wasn't an Empath as well; he couldn't feel Quatre. Heero finished with one last swipe, broad and sweeping, resting for a moment before he turned and headed toward the shelter and Quatre.

"Do you—do you have any idea where we should head tomorrow?"

"A crowded inn," Heero replied. He sheathed his sword in a smooth motion that was comfortable and practiced. "We'll ask around if anyone knows of a place East of the Sun and West of the Moon or if they have an idea of where to go to find someone who might."

Quatre nodded and laid down on his bedroll, smiling when Nix jumped off and curled up next to him, closing his huge eyes and breathing in calm, purring rhythms. Quatre tucked away his shotels but kept one of the hunting knifes Heero had brought under his pillow, just in case. Heero put out the fire before he headed into the shelter, his motions blurred in the dark to Quatre's eyes. He rolled over once, twice, and then was still, leaving Quatre alone with his own thoughts while he undoubtedly was busy with his own. Quatre pulled a blanket up and closed his eyes, his hand reaching up and wrapping around the pendant he never took off, using the gentle hum of Trowa's emotions as his lullaby, like always.

He missed Nix's protective circle of copper and gold as always.

* * *

…_Quatre…_

_Quatre opened his eyes and sat up straight, surprised and startled to find himself not in a canvas tent but in a green field, nothing around him for what seemed like miles. He looked down and saw he was wearing the same brown pants and white tunic he had worn to bed—his shoes were gone though. The copper pendant was still around his neck, but instead of gleaming dully per usual, it seemed aglow with a soft, warm light, bathing Quatre's chest and parts of his neck and alighting blue eyes. The slender blond pushed himself to his feet, casting one look around and calling out if anyone was there—he was so sure he heard his name. He was met with nothing on both counts, however, so he turned his attention back to the strangely behaving pendant._

_He brushed his fingertips over the smooth surface, and while it was warmer than usual, he didn't feel anything out of the ordinary, Trowa's muted emotions still pulsated under the skin of his fingers. He looked around once more and decided it couldn't hurt to walk, maybe he was in a dream and walking out of the field would wake him up. Maybe he would get so bored his body would reflexively try to save itself and wake him up. It was an odd dream though, Quatre mused to himself as he walked—he was quite aware for a dream and everything was so blindingly clear. He usually didn't remember his dreams, but when he did, he had the distinct memory of things being hazy and completely nonsensical._

_He walked through the soft grass for an immeasurable amount of time and was about to just sit down and try to force himself out of his dream when he felt a flare up of Trowa's emotions sear through him, cutting past his defenses and wrapping around him tight. The pendant was hot now, and he dropped it from his fingers, letting it fall back against his shirt, bringing his hands up to either side of his head and clutching hard as he felt every facet of Trowa rush through him. He screwed his eyes shut and tried desperately to regain some of his control, but nothing seemed to work, and while nothing he felt was necessarily bad, it was too much and it was suffocating him. He fell to his knees, mouth open in a soundless gasp and scream as he felt his own self disappear under the torrent but then…it was gone._

_Quatre gasped heavily for a moment before he opened his eyes, hands slowly letting go of the blond hair they had been holding tightly as he felt his own personality and emotions reassert themselves. When he finally felt his disorientation and dizziness fade, and he could breathe again in normal breaths, he noticed that there wasn't grass or dirt under his knees, but rather, carpet. He raised his head and looked around, his hands balancing himself as he pushed back to standing, and was completely confused at the scene he was seeing. The room he was in looked lavish and unnecessarily big, like it was opulent for no reason besides it could be, no practicality found anywhere. He wondered briefly on the where and what of his situation but a view from the window caught his eye and stopped his thought process. Outside, hanging low in the horizon was a sun to the east and a moon to the west._

"_East of the Sun and…"_

"_West of the Moon." Quatre inhaled sharply and whirled around, his eyes widening at the very familiar shock of auburn hair that belonged to the voice that completed his sentence._

"_Trowa?" _

_Quatre looked up into the uncovered face of the Tria prince, disbelief and shock written all over his face as his entire body shook jerkily. He felt Trowa grab his wrist and he gasped as the pendant around his neck burned hotly through the fabric of his shirt. He jerked out of the hold and stepped back away from the confused looking prince until his back met with a solid force. Trowa took a tentative step forward but halted, his expression worried and unsure and not at all like the calm that usually occupied his face. Quatre couldn't stop the shaky breaths he was gulping in as he stared at Trowa, his uncovered face that was visible in all aspects, except the shadowy band that covered his eyes. Quatre had dreamed about Trowa before, but they mainly revolved around guilt-driven thought—this felt like Trowa was right there, right in front of him. That this was _his _Trowa, and not a phantom of his subconscious. And that terrified him._

"_Quatre, what's—Cat are you all right?"_

"_This isn't—you're not real—it's just a dream and I don't—"_

"_Wait, I'm not—what's going on?" Trowa took another step forward and looked alarmed at the cringe he received in reply, but Quatre didn't care. He was sick of these dreams, where Trowa would be there and be so close to him before disappearing and leaving only accusing words and eyes behind. He scrunched his eyes shut and pushed further back into the wall, biting his tongue to keep in the hiss he felt from the pendant as the dream-Trowa rested his hands on either side of Quatre's shoulders. "Quatre?"_

"_No, no, this isn't real, it's just a dream."_

"_By the gods, Cat!" Quatre didn't get a chance to respond as a pair of lips pressed down hard on his own, flooding him with warmth, shivers, love, and utter devotion that made him uneven and unsteady. Trowa was kissing him so hard that he felt like his lips were bruising and air was quickly becoming an issue, but Quatre only acted on instinct, wrapping his arms around slightly broader shoulders and pulling Trowa closer. The pendant was trapped between them and was practically on fire, but it didn't hurt as it had before, and with every pause, every shared breath, every nip and brush of tongues, Quatre became convinced that this _was_ Trowa. He still wasn't sure where he was or why, but he smiled and held Trowa tighter, sure as he was sure that he was alive that this was his fiancé, the other half of his very soul. Trowa pulled away as sudden as he had attacked and gazed down at Quatre, face flushed but his eyes still covered by that strange band._

"_Did that feel like a dream?"_

"_No it didn't and you're—you're really here, Trowa!" Quatre's smiled widened, brightened and he tugged Trowa back down, kissing him with every ounce of emotion he could muster: love, hope, sadness, regret, anger, and everything else that was swimming around his heart. _

"_Well, of course I'm here, Cat. Where else would I be?" Trowa tilted his head in a bemused way and examined Quatre, a small smile tugging at his swollen lips. Quatre, still smiling, started to ask what he was talking about, that they had to get out or leave or something when he saw the room change, shift in a fluid motion from the overly lavish room into the very comfortable room Quatre and Trowa spent most of their nights in. The blond's smile faltered and he focused back on Trowa, who was still Trowa but now seemed a little…off._

"_Trowa, what's that band across your eyes?" Trowa's still visible eyebrows crinkled in confusion above his shadowed eyes._

"_Band? I don't have anything across my eyes, Cat. I can see just fine." He pressed close again, his hand angling Quatre's face upward gently under his chin. "I can see _you_ just fine."_

_And just like that, Quatre knew it was a dream. He wanted to glance down at the pendant, which he now guessed was the only thing that could've brought him here, here into this shared dreamscape, but Trowa kissed him again and effectively stopped that. He wanted to push Trowa off and try and tell him everything, what he had done, where he really was, what Quatre was doing now to save him, wanted to ask him about the curses, about the Fey, about who Dorothy was. That he didn't deserve this kindness. He couldn't though, and then he wouldn't, returning Trowa's kiss with as much fierceness has he received and pressing his unbearably hot, tingling body so close to Trowa it was hard to for him to tell who was grabbing whose hair and who was moaning into whose mouth._

_Trowa broke away and drifted his lips down Quatre's chin and neck, attaching near his collarbone, one of his hands pressing under the blond's tunic and clutching the flushed skin while the other buried deep into the blond hair. Quatre hissed out a breath when Trowa bit down and sucked at the spot near his collarbone that was sure to drive him crazy, his own hands pulling and tugging at various articles of the prince's skin and clothing. The hand at his back drifted lower and hooked under one of his legs; Quatre wrapped it around Trowa's waist and was dragged away from the wall in a frenzied motion. Quatre was only airborne for a moment before he was looking up at Trowa, a cushioned surface at his back, leg still wrapped around the other man's waist, pressing their hips together._

_Quatre was only half aware of what was going on now, the dreamscape living up to the former half of its name like it hadn't earlier, but he was pretty sure he was responsible for the tall prince's shirtless state. Blue eyes sought out Trowa's veiled green eyes, his hands pressing against a cheek and a shoulder as Trowa swooped down again and pressed their lips together again. He closed his eyes and kissed back with equal fervor, aiding in Trowa's quest to get rid of his troublesome clothing, letting out an unrepentant gasp when Trowa's hand ghosted over his erection. He wanted every bit of skin, press of flesh and touch of Trowa's hand imprinted on his own body, wanted to have this last as long as it possibly could, he would have cried at the feeling of having Trowa with him again if he hadn't been so busy doing other things. He tugged Trowa's hair as their mouths clashed messily, moaning into the prince's mouth when a warm, coarse hand wrapped around his heated flesh and squeezed. He returned the favor once every article of clothing lay scattered across the bed and floor, earning an equally approving hum from Trowa that reverberated across Quatre's empathy. For the next few minutes, all Quatre knew and felt was him and Trowa, the heat pooling in his stomach and Trowa's tongue in his mouth. So, it was understandable to him why he was so surprised when Trowa pulled back suddenly, his unoccupied hand that had been drifting down his neck and chest pulled away when it drifted over something warm and metal._

"_Trowa? What's wrong, why did you—"_

"_What's that?" Quatre's eyes, which had been the color of the ocean before a storm in his aroused state, cleared and became confused when he looked down at what Trowa was pointing at. _

_The pendant from Sandrock was bright against his flushed, peachy skin, a speckled red and gold that caught in the auburn of Trowa's bangs. The cloud lifted from Quatre's mind and remembered what he had conveniently forgotten when Trowa swallowed his lips moments before. He looked back up at Trowa's shadowed face, the band preventing his most expressive feature from display, but Quatre could feel the confusion and dawning dread rise within Trowa as the dream lifted from him too. Quatre felt pinpricks of moisture gather in the corners of his eyes as a remembered betrayal was shared between the two, gulping in harshly when Trowa sat up, gather Quatre with him and hugging him tightly. He could feel forgiveness and love from Trowa filter into his skin but it did nothing to ease the ugly guilt that had stuck itself in Quatre's throat._

"_Quatre…"_

"_I'm so sorry Trowa! I know I shouldn't have looked but I'm trying to find you! I'll never stop looking for you, even if I run out of time and you have to marry a Troll, I'll keep looking and I'll save you! I love you and I never meant to—"_

_Trowa stopped the babbling with a chaste kiss that was full of so much emotion Quatre felt it in the tips of his toes. A different kind of fire surged through him when he kissed back, breaking away and staring into Trowa's still covered face, imaging deep green where the shadow settled. He opened his mouth to apologize again, feeling like he hadn't quite got across just how sorry he was but Trowa clapped a hand over his mouth suddenly, face alert and looking off to the side. Quatre narrowed his eyes quizzically but kept silent, eyes darting to the side to wherever Trowa's attention seemed to be; it was hard to tell, his eyes being covered and all. Quatre was about to shrug off Trowa's hand when he heard an echoed footstep that seemed to be all around them, and then he noticed the room had reverted back to its original appearance, lavish and opulent furniture in a too big room. Trowa rose to his feet hurriedly and pulled Quatre with him, focusing all of his attention onto confused blue eyes._

"_Quatre, you need to leave, right now." Trowa's voice was low and steady, but Quatre picked up the strong undercurrent of worry and fear lacing his voice. _

"_What? But, I don't even know—"_

"_You have to leave! She's coming and if she finds you here…"_

"_Who? Trowa, tell me where you are! I'm trying to find you but I have no idea where someplace can even be East of the Sun and West of the Moon!"_

"_She can't find you here, leave now, I'll see you again." Trowa pressed one more kiss to Quatre's somewhat resisting lips before he pushed the slender blond away. And, as quick as he had appeared in the room, he was falling…falling and falling until he hit the grassy surface with a slight 'oomph.' _

_Quatre sat up on his forearms and looked around confused, wondering what the hell was going on when the sky above him changed. Again, he saw the sun and the moon passing each other but nothing else revealed itself. He got to his feet to try and see if there was something further off, anything to give him an idea of where he needed to go, but the ground beneath him rattled and shook, breaking apart under his bare feet. He fell and yelled out as he fell down and down…_

…_Quatre…_

"_Quatre!"_

"Quatre, wake up!"

Quatre's sea-blue eyes snapped open and he flew up, hand clutched around his warmer-than-usual pendant and inhaling air in heavy breaths that came out in a wheeze. He felt two steely hands around his arms, holding him steady and he blinked a few more times into focus, eyes coming to rest on Heero's collected face, whose own dark blue eyes were watching him with an analytic look. He took a few deep, controlled breaths of air before he felt calm enough to speak, glancing over at the small body of Nix who was watching him from his nearby his leg. He nodded at Heero and the hands let go of him, the stoic prince settling back on his heels and still eyeing him with well-disguised concern; Quatre could only tell he was worried because he could feel it.

"I had a dream," he started. His voice as quiet and hoarse, as if he was afraid anyone other than the Desert Cat and Heero could be listening. "And, in my dream, I think…I think I saw where Trowa is."

"Where then?"

"I have no idea, all I saw was an old looking castle that had a rich interior, or at least one room that's well-furnished, and could see the sun and the moon from the window. And…Trowa was there."

"Trowa?"

"He was as real as you are now, Heero." Quatre rubbed his eyes and blinked the rest of the stressful sleep from them. "He…at first, he thought we were at Tria Manor and didn't know what—but when he saw my pendant, he suddenly knew everything and then he was telling me I had to leave before 'she' came and saw me."

Heero stared at him, hands laid crossed on his sword which rested comfortably across his knees. His eyes shifted between the ground to the pendant and back to Quatre's eyes, completing the circuit a few times before he let out a huff and focused back on Quatre's waiting face. "It sounds like this pendant pulled you into a shared dream with Trowa, which I suppose isn't unheard of, especially for an Empath. You were holding the pendant when you fell asleep?"

"Well, yes, but I always have since Sandrock gave it to me…this is the first time this has happened."

"Then I think Trowa must have been thinking something similar to you while you thought of it and held that pendant. From what I know, that's how shared dreams work…which is inconvenient as you can't control when you are pulled into the dreams."

"Oh." Quatre was silent for a few minutes before he looked back over at Heero, who had drifted back over to his own bedroll. "This 'she' Trowa was talking about…do you think he meant Dorothy?"

Heero 'hn'ed' in an affirmative manner. "How much do you know about her?"

"Not much…just that she cast the curse and has a grandfather who is the king of Trolls. I'm guessing she's a Troll?"

"In a manner. I've never met her, so I couldn't tell you. But, from what Trowa recounted after he first encountered her, there's something different about her. Many think she's adopted, part Troll of course, but part something else as well. Whatever she is, she's very powerful and clever, not someone to be trifled with."

"Why did she attack Trowa?"

"No one knows why she targeted him specifically." Heero blew back out the lamp he had lit when he first awoke to Quatre's thrashings. "Only that she is particularly focused on destroying the Colony Kingdoms. You said that Sandrock told you she's using Trowa as a catalyst for something larger; that's more reason than any of us knew before. You need to try and get back to sleep, we'll have a long day tomorrow."

Quatre knew the conversation was over with that. He lay back down and curled his knees close, holding out his arms for Nix to curl up in, which the little cat did with no hesitation. He pulled his blankets back over them tight, and closed his eyes, tried to force down the aching loneliness that now occupied his heart. Being with Trowa, even if it was in that shared dream space…it had been real, as if he himself had been there, and now that it was ripped away, he felt miserable. He bit his lip and hugged Nix tighter when the sandy-colored cat nuzzled his chin in a comforting manner, and did his best to ignore the streaks of moisture that escaped his closed eyes and let uneasy sleep retake him.

* * *

The next day did in fact prove to be both busy and trying, Quatre trailing Heero, a very experienced mountaineer as it was, down the mountain and into the city of Alliance before noon. They had stopped at a decent looking inn and checked in for two days and began their task of asking around anyone who would know about a place East of the Sun and West of the Moon. As had been the norm for the last month, no one really had any idea, the different people of Alliance giving Quatre queer looks before letting him know they didn't think such a place could exist. Heero, it seemed, had little more luck, striding into the inn that night with a distinctly annoyed look on his face. Quatre would have smiled at the rare show of emotion had he not been so depressed himself.

"Here you go, lads," the waitress said. She was older, matronly, with a fast smile and an even faster frown whenever she heard some kind of ruckus happening inside _her_ inn. Heero said nothing and Quatre gave his thanks with a frown, not looking at the food and petting Nix beside him slowly. "Well, I don't think I've ever seen a blacker looking pair! Ladies above, what's got ye both lookin' like the very sky be falling? I've never had such a reaction to my fare and inn before!"

Heero, naturally, did not respond beyond a scowl, but Quatre gave him a look before mustering up a slight smile for the woman. "It's nothing really, the food looks wonderful and the rooms were very nice. It's just…my companion and I didn't have much luck with our business in town today."

"Ah, looking for this place of yours, the one that's east and west and all that." She nodded sagely, a calculating look appearing in her eyes. "Well, if ye both find no one in Alliance who might know, ye should try the Seer of the Bower. She might have some kind of idea, I hear she's very old."

"Seer of the Bower?" Quatre shared a look with Heero, who shrugged and kept staring passively at the waitress, as if gauging her honesty. "Where would we find her?"

"You head west out of the city, towards the Elven nations of Taurus and Virgo. She lives somewhere in the woods in between."

"There are a lot more cities between here and Taurus." Heero's voice was low and cold, not one inflection of emotion present.

"Yes, but that's all we know. She doesn't help just anyone so we hardly ever see her. But, if anyone around here would have an idea of where ye should head, it'd be her."

"Thank you," Quatre said honestly. The waitress spared him another smile and with a wink, was gone, off to serve other customers and break apart fights. Quatre turned his attention back to Heero, who was looking to him for confirmation. "She was honest; I didn't sense a lie or anything."

Heero nodded, taking a bite out of the steaming food the waitress had brought along with her advice.

"Do you think we should give her a try? I had no luck today…most just looked at me like I was crazy for asking about a place that can't physically exist."

"Couldn't hurt." That was as close to a yes as any that Quatre thought he would get so he nodded and started to eat, shoveling little mounds of food over to one side for Nix, who had imperiously jumped onto the tabletop and was sitting beside the blond's plate.

After another restless night, one where Quatre kept awake and waited to be pulled into the dreamscape again but was not and found himself trapped in his usual nightmares of guilt and dread, Quatre, Heero, and Nix set out of Alliance. Quatre knew they earned odd looks, what with Heero's manner, his own black staff, and Nix skipping beside them both, the little Areenjan earning most of their wonder. Quatre smiled at the curious little blue and white sparkles he saw zip past as they exited, remembering Heero talking about the Ice Sprites who lived within the city sometimes. They walked for two days, resting within their canvas tent at night and Quatre trying to reach into his dreams again to see Trowa, before they both started to get frustrated with their lack of progress and the endless feel the woods to the west of Alliance had.

"Maybe we should turn around and head north, towards the other trading cities within Noventa."

Quatre frowned at the stoic prince's suggestion. Going back would mean they had wasted two days, two flowers that were withered and dead on the staff for no reason. However, he couldn't really deny the logic of the prince's words, knowing if they kept on their current path, they might waste even more days. He bit his bottom lip and cast his eyes skyward, trying to think of what each option they had could potentially do and not do. It was in his musings that he felt a tug around his heart, drawing his attention to his left, away from where Heero was plotting a course back that would bypass Alliance and save them some time and where Nix was surprisingly quiet beside him.

"Do you—"

Quatre didn't finish his thought, walking straight into a cluster of dense trees and bushes towards where he felt the presence coming from, a presence that was troubled and more than a little worried. He heard Heero call out after him but he didn't pause, pushing past branches and leaves until he came to another clearing, and a most peculiar scene. An old mare seemed to be stuck in a bog of some sort, neighing softly in distress while a bent, old crone was shrilling beside her cart. Quatre approached slowly, not wanting to frighten either the woman or the mare and tried to smile in a concerned way at the old woman when she looked over at him.

"You! You there, daft boy, are you just going to stand there and smile like a ninny or are you going to help me?!"

Quatre frowned at the woman but turned his attention back to the horse; she was the presence he felt, her distress so palpable he could almost touch it. He set down his packs, resting his staff against them and the trunk of a tree. He could feel the old woman's ire and downright rudeness cutting into him as he walked over towards the bog. "How long has she been stuck in there?"

"Does it matter? She's still stuck, how long doesn't make much of a difference does it as long as she's still alive!"

"I'm just trying to see how—"

"Just get the damn horse out, you blithering idiot! I have to be on my way to Alliance and the sun is already going down! I'm not traveling at night on these roads!"

Quatre grit his teeth, but forced his attention back on the horse, which clearly needed some kind of help that her owner wasn't willing to give to her. That was where Heero found him, standing on the edge of the bog and surveying his options, blithely ignoring the raving old woman who was stomping her feet in the dirt. Quatre spared him a glance before letting out a sigh, knowing there was no other way to get the horse out except to go in after her. He bent down and began unlacing his shoes, kicking them off and stripping off his jerkin and tunic, unbuckling his pants last. If he was going to do this, no need to get his clothes dirty as well.

"What are you doing?" Heero's expression and tone brooked no margin for joking.

"I'm going to help out that poor mare. She's terrified and likely to burst her heart if she's stuck her after dark."

Heero gave him an unreadable look before rolling his eyes upward and moving back to lean against the tree trunk with Quatre's packs. Nix yipped and curled up beside Heero.

"If you're going to help, get to it! Quit you're gibbering and get me my horse!"

Quatre ignored her and waded into the bog, wincing at the disgusting feeling and smell that emanated from it, choking down the nausea that crept up his throat at the feeling of the slimy water and mud against his bare body. He could hear the crone and her shrieking still, but he put all his focus on the horse, raising his hand and trying to project an air of calm and friendliness to the frightened animal. He was chest deep when he finally reached the mare, speaking to her in low, coaxing tones, and making sure to keep eye contact with her, smiling and placing his hand against her neck. The mare continued to whinny for a few more moments but eventually calmed down enough under his gentle voice and presence for Quatre to reach up and grab her slimy reins. It was hard going, especially since the bog was so thick and hard to move in; much less his body and a horse's, but he smiled brightly when the horse was free enough to kick her way out through the rest.

Quatre shivered and used his jerkin to wipe clean some of the bog excrements, pulling back on his clothes with haste, a deep red blush on his face when the old woman leered at him. He scowled over at her in an expression Heero would be proud of, and threw on the cloak that Heero tossed him over his shoulders.

"Well, looks like you had some use after all, boy!" The crone heckled and earned another scowl, this one from Heero. "That was awful kind of you, to help an old woman in her darkest hour!"

"I did it for the horse," Quatre growled back. He walked back over to his packs and threw them on, picking up his staff and sparing a smile for Nix, who looked supremely superior, like he knew something that Quatre didn't and found it hilarious.

"Not many would have, just like not many would have a prince of Sive and an Areenjan tagging along after him."

Quatre paused in his ministrations, turning around in concert with Heero to stare at the old woman, and let out a gasp of surprise when instead of a craggy old crone there was a young woman who looked only a bit older than Quatre. She had a kind smile on her pale face, and blue eyes that slanted, shaped like almonds. Her cheekbones were higher and more pronounced than that of a normal girl and her eyes brows were slanted over her large, exotic eyes. Her honey brown hair, a shade or two from dark blonde, was wavy and pinned back from her face with two identical pins on either side of her head. Quatre could see the pointed ears peeking out from beneath the hair and knew he was looking at his very first Elf. Quatre tore his eyes away from the woman for a moment to notice that the mare was no longer a ratty looking horse, but rather a gleaming white with a horn jutting out from the center of her forehead. Quatre had a brief thought that the Fey had a bad habit of presenting things and people as one way only to be a big fat lie.

"I'm sorry I made you wade in the bog, Quatre, but I have a kind of reputation to uphold. I can't see just anybody or else everyone will come and seek me out and ask me to tell them their life's purpose and all that."

"I think you could've skipped the elaborate scheme." Heero didn't look surprised anymore, in fact, Quatre thought he seemed almost familiar. "He's traveling with an Areenjan; that would have sufficed."

"I suppose, but it was much more fun to do it this way, Heero." The woman smiled softly and started towards them, her mare, unicorn, following dutifully.

"I'm sorry, but do you two—have you met?"

"Quatre, meet Sylvia Noventa, the heir to the Noventa kingdom; at least she was until she disappeared off into the woods to live as what, the apparent Seer of the Bower? We met at my majority."

"Such a terrible name, isn't it? Nothing spectacular like Deathscythe…or Shinigami." Quatre looked over at Heero's closed off expression, feeling the very strong irritation and warning that followed after the second, unfamiliar name, directed towards Sylvia. "Oh well, can't win them all I suppose. By the way, Heero, have you spoken to Duo? You really shouldn't treat him with disdain or indifference; it's just going to result in something extremely unpleasant for you; he's always been rather creative."

Quatre gaped at Sylvia and her unruffled stance, staring utter death in the face as Heero's glare grew darker. From what he had learned, and experienced himself, it was a cardinal rule that you didn't mention 'Duo' around Heero if you wanted to live to see your next birthday, but it seemed like this Sylvia was undeterred or just didn't care. He remembered vaguely Sally saying that Elves lacked tact, or chose to not acknowledge it altogether, and here he was seeing it. He decided to try and intercede, not really wanting Heero to murder the Elf in a fit of unadulterated rage and stepped between them. "So, if you're the Seer of the Bower, we're actually looking for you. I need to find a place that's East of the Sun and West of the Moon and I only have eighty more days to do it."

Sylvia focused on Quatre, blue meeting blue and she smiled. "Well, I've never heard of such a place, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist…or that I can't find it. But I suggest we head back to my home first. I don't feel particularly inclined to give a reading in the dark of the woods. Follow me."

She slapped the unicorn on the rump gently, the white animal galloping off into the woods, pausing once it reached a nearby bluff and looking back at the three human and Desert Cat following him before continuing, his bright coat acting as a sort of beacon in the darkening forest. As they walked, Quatre filled Sylvia in on the whole story, from Trowa first asking him to marry him and their subsequent courtship, to his trip home and the disaster he caused when he returned, in part because of his father's murder. Heero spoke up only when necessary, consumed in his own thoughts, but Sylvia seemed to be well-informed about Trowa and his curse on her own, asking pointed questions, especially when the blond mentioned Sandrock and how Nix came to be his guide. Sylvia didn't offer much advice though, opting to think when she wasn't asking Quatre for clarification. The sun was gone by the time they reached Sylvia's home, a cottage and tower crafted within a huge trunk of a tree.

"Well, in you go. I'll see if I have some kind of food that isn't more than roots…I wasn't kidding when I said I needed to go to Alliance! Quatre, you and Heero take a seat in the room to the left of the entrance, that's where my bones and herbs are. Nix, I have some milk if you'd like some."

Nix yipped and purred happily, following the Elven woman into her kitchen without further ado. Quatre looked around the home with a curious eye, amazed that a home of such detail and comfort was carved into the tree, taking a seat beside Heero in a warm, cluttered room. Heero still looked off in his own world, but Quatre was brimming with questions, unable to keep them to himself.

"So, if she was the heir to the kingdom, why does she live out here? Did she abdicate?"

Heero rolled his eyes upward before turning a slightly exasperated look onto the smiling blond. "No, she's still the heir, as far as I know. I couldn't tell you why she chooses to live out here, maybe she doesn't like court or politics."

"But, doesn't she need to learn about, you know, leading and all that?"

"Elves operate a little different than other races." Heero was silent for a few minutes before continuing. "Her grandfather is the current ruler, but he could still live for another five hundred years easily before he thinks about stepping down…Elves are long-lived creatures."

Quatre wanted to ask the obvious question after that bit of information, wanted to ask if that was why he didn't speak to Duo, if the differences between their people and their aging was part of the issue—he felt that it might have been. Heero was feeling very conflicted, even if his face showed nothing of the sort. He didn't get a chance though, as Sylvia breezed back in, her movements graceful and almost as if she was moving on water, carrying a tray with tea and bread and cheese. Nix followed after her, licking his lips in a satisfied manner as he hopped up into Quatre's lips.

"Well, eat up! I'll get some of my tools and we can get right to it."

"You're going to do the reading? 'See' where Trowa is?"

"Afraid it's not that simple," Sylvia responded. She offered a smile and a shrug as she bustled around the messy room, picking up a bowl, incenses, candles, and a handful of ivory stones---Quatre suspected they were the bones she had mentioned. "I'm going to see if I can figure out what path you can see, if the bones will tell me anything or if I'll be able to see anything helpful in the smoke and flame. Seeing is a little more complicated than you would think."

She gathered all her things and set everything up while Quatre and Heero ate, Quatre utterly fascinated by what she was doing and Heero looking on, bored expression plain on his face. Sylvia flashed him a grin and bonded her hair back with a leather cord, exposing her sharply pointed ears prominently. She cleared away the tray and motioned Quatre to sit across from her, Heero stayed where he was, but his bored expression vanished, focusing on the two with a great intensity. The Elf lit some of the incense, filling the room with a deep scent that made Quatre drowsy, his eyes half closing and clouding over. Sylvia was quiet for a moment and held out her hands, motioning Quatre to grab them, which he did. The blond's blue eyes slipped shut and he felt the pendant around his neck heat up against his skin, under his tunic.

"I need you to focus, Quatre, focus on what your problem is, what you have questions over, bring these thoughts to the forefront of you mind, imagine them clearly." Sylvia's voice was low and soothing, like a bell ringing over water. "Good, open your eyes but keep the questions in front, I'm going to cast the bones first."

She scooped up the ivory bones and sent them scattered into the oblong bowl, watching them position and flip over, runes and marking showing on each in golden letters. "I see the Lovers here, and separation…with a great malice in between you and Trowa. This mark on the knuckle bone, it means that there is more than what is apparent at work here, and this one next to it, others of great power are exerting their influence for both good and ill."

"We already know all of this," Heero stated rationally, earning a look from Quatre.

"Yes, but sometimes you need to hear again what you already know to fully understand what could be. Now, this bone…it's oddly placed. This would represent your path, where you need to head, but it's standing straight up instead of laying flat…I can't tell you from here where you need to head."

Quatre felt a heavy weight settle around his heart, but he swallowed and focused his gaze back on Sylvia's puzzled one. "Can you see anything else, anything that could help us find Trowa?"

The Elf was silent as she looked and then she smiled, pointing at one of the bones, opposite from where the odd bone was. "This bone here, it's marking are inconclusive, but I think it suggests something about where you could head, somewhere where someone might have more of an idea of where to go than I do."

She removed the bowl with the bones and pulled forward her incense and the herbs she had grabbed. "I'm going to try to See through the smoke…it's what I'm known for and I might be able to get more of an answer for you than the bones could."

She lit some of the bundles of herbs on fire, their smoke wafting thick and gray, swirling around Sylvia's hands as she murmured in a watery language that sounded more like birds chirping than actually words. Quatre looked on in awe as the smoke coalesced and formed a thick looking oval, shapes appearing within, shapes of people and places that were like mirror reflections, but hazy around the edges. An image of the varying Colony Kingdoms appeared in the smoke, abruptly rendered in battle and burning. Quatre saw a picture of a woman, young and with a head of black hair, facing off another with cold blue eyes and strangely forked eyebrows, before the image vanished, more images filtered through the smoke, ones that looked familiar to Quatre and foreign, pictures of Trowa vanishing along with the others in a choking pit of black.

"There's a lot here, a lot more than the bones could see." Sylvia's voice was strained but she didn't look in pain, her hands still making movements around the smoke mirror. "I can see the Colony Kingdoms as they once were, Sive, Deux, Tria, Quattuon, and Quinque…the fall of Quattuon…those events are linked with your own, a part of the puzzle that can help you frame what Dorothy might be up to. I cannot see where Trowa might be, or anyone else that was with him in the Manor, Quatre, it's cloaked from my Sight."

"What else do you see?" Heero prompted. Quatre was still staring, unable to voice anything, wondering what the history of the Colony Kingdoms had to do with finding Trowa.

Sylvia bunched her eyebrows together and the smoke began to shift again. There were images of so much destruction, images of monsters Quatre remembered from his few nights in the Fey, marching across the land and burning. The Troll king, Dermail, was marching along in front, smiling over at the same blue–eyed woman with the forked eyebrows, her appearance human in some aspects, but Troll in others. The smoke shifted again and the black-haired woman appeared again, standing beside a man and resting a hand on her bulging belly, creeping in the dark with a number of others out of the woods and into a desert. Once more and it showed an image of a winding path, golden and marked by symbols, a clear image of Nix prancing along, the path traveling until it showed a fortress covered in dark shadows, standing east of the sun and west of the moon.

"Destruction will follow should you fail in finding Trowa in the time allotted, and I keep seeing images from, what I think, is Quattuon…what happened there is linked so tightly with what is happening now, I think it's imperative you find out the truth of that event…the smoke is suggesting that the rumors of the youngest princess escaping are true…but beyond that, I cannot see how it relates to you and finding the prince. The path is covered in symbols of the Five Ladies, which suggest that you must look to their guidance to find this place East of the Sun and West of the Moon. I'm going to try one more thing, something that will hopefully give you a more immediate idea of where you need to head…"

The smoke shifted again, this time displaying a great, sprawling city with all manner of different races and buildings within. Most of the merchants had pointed ears, just like Sylvia, and the smoke thickened and showed one final image, a young looking man, smiling in a mischievous manner and playing a lyre, the sound almost drifting into Quatre's ears. He couldn't really tell coloring detail, but the young man, no Elf, Quatre could see the pointed ears, did have a long braid that dangled down his back, swinging with every motion he made. Quatre didn't need to see anything else to know who he was looking at, Heero's spike in alarm and dread, making its way to his face in the form of a sickened looking scowl, answering and question the blond could have had. He knew that if the smoke could show color, he would see a pair of violet eyes smiling at him.

"Well…it looks like you have to head to Taurus…" Sylvia started.

"…and find Duo." Heero finished. Nix purred happily from Quatre's lap.

* * *

Edited chapter for structure, clarity, and grammar. Enjoy!

Osco


	10. Chapter 10

Candlelight (10/25ish)

Author: Osco

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xS

Rating: R

Warnings: Lemony goodness, violence, language, magical happenings, and ugly Trolls attempting to ruin the story!

Summary: Retelling of the fairy tale, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" GW style. What if you made a mistake? What if the person you loved had to pay the price? How far would you go to save him? How about a place that can't exist?

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I am but a poor college student who has no hold over the characters whatsoever and is doing this as a pastime.

* * *

**Chapter 10:**_** Bloodlines**_

No one said anything after Heero's uncharacteristically aggrieved announcement, but Quatre felt that emotions were running too high to try and say anything. Instead, he glanced in between Heero, who was a turmoil of dread, annoyance, and a small sliver of longing, and a hundred other emotions that weren't showing on his face, Sylvia, who was also a mix of her own emotions, the predominant being worry and anxiety for what her smoke visions showed and did not show, and Nix, who alone seemed unruffled and perfectly at ease. Quatre let out a small hiss of air and placed his fingers over his eyes and temples, trying to center himself; all the emotions, even Nix's, were giving him a sharp headache in addition to his own unease he felt over the visions. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, focusing on one memory and feeling, like Sally had helped teach him to use as his anchor, letting the echo of his emotions from then cocoon him from the cacophony of noise he could feel. He was a boy, maybe ten or eleven, and he was in the field with his sisters Iria, Maya, and Shaara, playing his father's old violin. His father was there and smiling at him, face full of love and pride; he smiled softly and let the emotions from that day infuse him and settle him. He felt a twinge of his sadness at the memory of his father, but he brushed it aside; he had enough problems to deal with at the moment, his grief over his father would have to wait.

Quatre opened his eyes when he felt his headache recede enough to think and feel clearly again, and was met with a puzzled look from Sylvia and a slightly concerned look from Heero. He smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner and arched his eyebrows at both. "I'm fine…you can stop staring at me like I'm an experiment."

"Heero," Sylvia began. An astonished look colored her face as some kind of realization dawned on her. "I was never told that Trowa's fiancé was an Empath, a powerful one at that if an _Elf's_ emotions are clear to him when I've been shielding my thoughts."

"He's not native to the Fey," Heero responded. His face slipped back into its usual mask of indifference, although Quatre could feel the subtle shift in Heero's emotions, the cloak settling over and concealing his emotions from the blond. "Trowa was not aware of his gift until after he was within our borders, but since empathy is a rare enough gift in the Fey, and Quatre had it and was not from here, he thought it prudent to not let others know unless necessary."

"So, none of the other Colony delegates are aware of this either?"

"Well, actually, they all kind of know," Quatre said sheepishly. He was tired of being left out the conversation that was obviously about him. "I kind of told them, on accident. Sally made it clear for the others to not say anything…and I'm guessing Trowa did later as well."

"But, other than that, no other Fey rulers, councils, or delegates are aware of his gift." Heero looked over at Quatre with a contemplative look on his face shining through for a moment before he focused back on Sylvia, who was still staring at him with wide eyes. "Trowa did not think extra attention would help in his quest to break the curses, so all that the rest of the Fey is aware of is that the prince of Tria fell in love with a Mortal boy and brought him here to live with him. Not even the Venti lands or the Kushrenada kingdoms were made aware of Quatre's peculiarity."

Sylvia made some kind of comment to Heero in response, something concerning how odd it was that a Mortal boy to have such a powerful command of a rare gift, but Quatre didn't really hear it. Instead, his eyes widened as a name clicked in his head, a name mentioned by Heero, a name he had not thought about since Trowa, in the form of a great, white Bear, showed up on his doorstep. His face slid into an expression of shock and his mouth dropped open. He looked up sharply at the discussion between Heero and Sylvia, and rose to his feet so quick Nix growled in annoyance at losing his seat so suddenly.

"Did you say Kushrenada, Heero?" Quatre's voice sounded off to his ears, like it was gravelly and filled with the kind of confusion that came from realizing something so incredibly impossible it was hard to even begin to comprehend. "There's a kingdom in the Fey called Kushrenada?"

Heero surveyed Quatre for a moment before he answered. "Yes, it's one of the largest Human kingdoms within the Fey, almost as large as the numerous Elven nations. I'm surprised you haven't come across or heard of them before; they trade with the Colony kingdoms quite a bit, and Trowa is related to one of the current heirs. His cousin, Leia, married one of the King's sons and had a daughter, Mariemaia. He was never close with Leia, her father and brother never got along well with Trowa's family, but they would have all been in attendance at your wedding, if it had happened."

"But that's—there's a Lord in Araaban and his name is Kushrenada! He never looked like any of the natives, so I think most just assumed he had migrated from wherever he was from, but…was he from the Fey? I thought—Trowa told me most people in the Fey don't travel to the Mortal realm because they age more rapidly than they do here…"

"There was a Lord Kushrenada in Araaban?"

"What was his name?"

"Treize…my step-mother pressured me to marry him to help out my family, and even though I didn't want to, I was going to agree but then…then Trowa came."

"Treize?!" Sylvia and Heero both asked at the same time, both with equal amounts of shock and confusion in their voices. Heero's eyes were even twitching, which unsettled Quatre more than a little.

"Oh, well…that is very odd," Sylvia murmured, sharing a look with Heero. Her emotions were also shielded thoroughly from him now. "Why would Treize move out of the Fey…and try to marry a Mortal boy at that?"

"Especially when he had a dead wife and little daughter left behind." Heero caught Quatre's confused look and explained. "Treize is the son that Leia married…she died in childbirth and left Treize with their daughter…Treize isn't first set to inherit his father but Kushrenada lands are so vast, he would've been set up with a large portion for himself, a dukedom or something substantial."

"I think there's more going on here, more than what we can all see." Sylvia sat back down, and her eyes drifted over her herbs and the grey smoke that was still curling off of them. She glanced over at Nix, who purred deeply and leapt back up beside Quatre as he sat back down as well, his long, fluffy tail curling around the blond's waist. "As far as I knew, Treize was not missing from the Fey…and for him to show up in a city where Trowa finds Quatre, a powerful Empath and later his fiancé…I'm troubled by this."

"You don't think—are thinking that Treize…is it connected with what's going on now, with Trowa's curses and disappearance?"

Sylvia focused her blue gaze on Quatre's with such an intensity that the blond felt an irrational urge to shrink back into the cushioned chair he was seated in. "If that is true, then that would be quite dire indeed. Heero, what are the chances of Treize taking his father's throne with force?"

"Not likely. Septum has too big a force, and as strong as Treize's 'Specials' soldiers are they'd be outnumbered. He wouldn't have his father's support either, which would be crippling. And the public loves Ralph and his betrothed, Chrismarly; they wouldn't take kindly to a _coup d'etat_ that resulted in either of their deaths, especially both being young and charismatic. Septum is the oldest brother, Quatre, but he has already become entrenched within the military, and the king chose Ralph as his heir some decades ago."

Quatre nodded, thankful Heero could see how lost he was within the conversation. He wasn't used to the unusual ways that heirs were decided within the Fey compared to Araaban. He was used to the oldest son always being the heir, not second and third sons, daughters, or unrelated heirs chosen for their attributes and leadership skills. Sylvia did not smile, however, and pursed her lips as her eyes narrowed. "What if he used sorcery? What do you think his chances would be then?"

"Very likely. Kushrenada is almost completely composed of Humans without magic; the rare few who do have gifts are spread out thin throughout the kingdom. It's the same with Venti…if Treize used sorcery in addition to his Specials knights he would be able to take both of those kingdoms easy."

"I'm guessing that would be bad." Quatre grimaced as Sylvia flashed him a grim smile and Heero's face darkened.

"It could potentially plunge the entire Fey into a war. And, if Treize _does_ have an alliance with Dorothy, or worse, I can only imagine what kind of destruction will be brought with them."

"Why exactly? Because Dorothy wants the Colony Kingdoms?"

"Well, unlike Kushrenada or Venti, the Colony Kingdoms are filled with magic, always have been." Sylvia paused and her eyes acquired a contemplative gleam. "That provides a plausible explanation for why she has targeted the Colonies for so long, even if why Trowa still remains unclear. If she is allied with Treize and gains control of a Colony Kingdom, Kushrenada and Venti wouldn't stand a chance if he is after the throne."

"We have to get to Kushrenada; they need to know what's going on, if the Treize who Quatre encountered, is in fact the same Treize, actions need to be taken." Quatre's eyes snapped toward Heero, all of his shock and confusion disappearing as he felt the copper pendant burn, reminding him of what he had to do.

"No! We have to find Trowa, so we have to find Duo in Taurus! Sandrock said I had to do this, that I was the only one who could—we only have three months, Heero! Whatever could be going on with Treize and Dorothy isn't our focus, because Sandrock said that if I failed in saving Trowa that this terrible thing was going to happen…we can't just deviate and go off on another task."

Heero stared in response, but didn't say anything. He glanced over at Sylvia, who still looked preoccupied, as if her thoughts were far off and couldn't be reached, before he focused back on Quatre, nodding with a clear hint of weariness and reservation in his eyes. He took a deep breath, his hand resting comfortable on his sword's pommel at his side when he started speaking. Quatre could almost taste the regret and nervousness that was escaping Heero, no matter his blocks and shields.

"Unfortunately, Quatre's right, Trowa is his priority, and since I was told to accompany him, he's mine as well. Sylvia, it's going to have to be you."

"Mm…I suppose so. I'll head back home to my grandfather tomorrow after seeing you both and your Areenjan guide off. Right now, I suppose you best all be off to bed! Can't do much world saving with sleep in your eyes, can you now?" She smiled bright, but Quatre could tell it wasn't sincere. He couldn't feel Sylvia anymore, but there was still a preoccupied look in her eyes; she wasn't feeling any kind of cheer.

Quatre smiled back wearily at her, rising to his feet after scooting Nix gently off of his legs. "Do you think I could get clean first? I still smell like bog…"

"Of course, Nix will show you where to head. If you have any questions, just holler down. Don't use up all my warm water either, mister!"

Quatre smiled at her, wondering what she meant, but he soon discovered when Nix led him into a small, tiled room up the stairs and first in the carved hall of the tree house. He had thought the baths were sophisticated at Tria, but compared to what he was looking at in Sylvia's baths, it was nothing. There were metal tubes connecting to some kind of spout that was mounted on the wall, so it hovered above his head. There were nozzles that were labeled 'hot' and 'cold' and he looked down at Nix, eyebrows raised. Nix yawned in response and then grinned, looking back at the nozzles and tubes with fascination. It took him a few tries to figure out how everything worked, but eventually he got a spray of water to cascade from the spout against the wall. As he waited for the water to heat up, he marveled if all Elves had these kinds of advancements all over. He glanced around for towels, but when he didn't find any, he headed back down to ask Sylvia where there were. The lights in the cluttered room were still on, and Quatre could feel both the Elf and Heero within, but their conversation stopped him.

"…seems funny to me…why would Treize…my grandfather has never really liked him."

Quatre frowned, wondering why they were having a continued conversation about Treize and everything else without him. He crept closer to the end of the hall, straining his ears and making sure to keep his footsteps light and silent. He could hear them better now.

"…Trowa mentioned dissent before, from his uncle. Can't say I'd be surprised if that man had a hand in this with Treize."

"Mm…so, are you thinking what I'm thinking about the boy?" Quatre knew she was referring to him and frowned at the 'boy' name. Granted, as an Elf, it was possible she was ages older than him, but still, he didn't have to like it.

"I've had lots of thoughts concerning him, he talks a lot."

"That's not what I'm talking about and you know it."

"Hn." Quatre thought that sounded affirmative in nature, but it was hard to tell.

"Do you think Trowa suspected?"

"Perhaps. It could be the reason he didn't let Quatre wander to far from the manor without Sally or Wufei. He never confided in me though…I think he just thought it might be a possibility."

"Well, considering he is an Empath, had Sandrock appear to him personally, has an Areenjan shadowing and guiding him, and just happened to inspire a vision through the smoke revealing parts of the Quattuon history previously cloaked from sight…I think it's pretty damn sure it's more than a possibility. He has no idea though, does he?"

"He's not a good liar."

"Bloody-nine-Hells." Sylvia paused and Quatre felt a huge wave of awe, excitement, and anxiety well up. He took a deep breath to keep his hands from shaking. "Do you think Treize knew?"

"It's possible…I think he was looking, and that's why he left the Fey. Must have discovered something that suggested Illrea fled out of the Fey when she escaped, and with a basic idea of what to look for, which he could get from Dorothy, he could find the bloodline easy enough. He has the resources."

"This changes everything…Treize isn't after only Kushrenada, he's going for the entire Fey. I would even bet that after Trowa left with Quatre the first time, he sent a message to Dorothy…which would explain how Dermail appeared so suddenly. And you said his father was killed? Bewitched, possessed, and eventually killed? He probably helped arrange that as well."

Quatre felt his breath stop in his throat, the muscles in his neck clenching up as he remembered his father's death, how it had looked, what he had felt, the connection with his father abruptly cut and leaving nothing but a hole of nothing. Treize had arranged that? What—why would he—what did everyone think he was? He placed a steadying hand against the wood of the hall and tried to focus back on the conversation. If they weren't going to share this with him willingly, he'd learn all he could anyway he could.

"Hn."

"Well, I guess you're going to have to keep an eye on him then. If Dorothy knows who he is, even if it's just suspicions, and can figure that he'd try to find Trowa, he'll be in danger…and if he _is_ Illrea's heir, well, we can't really let anything happen to him, can we? And we can't really let Treize use him as a way to take control in the Fey. I may have to let my grandfather know about this."

"Fine, but we still don't know anything for sure. Don't just assume he's Illrea's heir, he could just be a merchant's son with an unusual gift, nothing more."

"Yeah, and you're married to an Elf and smile every day."

Quatre didn't wait to hear anything else, backing away back toward the baths, his mind reeling and beyond caring what he originally came down for. Was that why? Was that why Sandrock appeared to help him, and Nix followed him, and why his father was killed? Because he was, potentially, some kind of long lost heir to some kind of Fey kingdom, him, Quatre Winner, the only son of a poor, murdered merchant and a long-dead mother? He made the journey back to the bathroom mechanically, and barely registered the cold water cascading down his body as he got clean or the fluffy white towels he had available, towels he could not find before. He didn't spare Nix a smile as he continued down the hall after the little cat, swirling blue eyes fixating on him with a loyal intensity that frightened Quatre where it hadn't an hour ago.

Once he was closed within his room for the night, and lightly dressed as the inside of the bower was much warmer than outside, he sank down to the bed. He sat there, still as a statue and thoughts whirring through his head at lightning speed, for a few minutes before a weight beside him startled him. Nix was staring at him, sitting primly beside his hand, his fur more silver looking than copper in the dark of his room, just watching him.

"Are they right? Am I some kind of long lost prince? Me?"

Nix didn't purr, yip, or growl; he just stared back, blue eyes swirling luminously with the vast kind of knowledge one equated with eternity. Instead, he lowered his head in an unmistakable expression of deference, and when he looked back up into Quatre's shocked and slightly horrified eyes, his silence seemed to convey a vast amount of respect and loyalty that brooked no argument.

"Did Sandrock know?"

Nix yipped this time, nudging Quatre's clammy hand with his soft head, his cold nose tickling the underside of the blond's palm. Quatre nodded, a small noise escaping his throat that sounded like a wheeze, and fell back, staring at the ceiling made of twisting branches and leaves tightly interlocked together. Nix purred deeply, so deep that Quatre could feel the little vibrations against his skin as Nix curled up next to him. The blond tried to smile at the comforting and confident feelings from the Desert Cat, but he couldn't, and instead pulled his legs into a fetal position, draping an arm over Nix's pulsating body. After what seemed like hours, Quatre felt himself drift, not able to deal with the torrent of his own emotions he felt from the revelations he had learned that night, the smoke prophecy, Treize Kushrenada, and the tiny detail that he was some long lost prince of the Fey.

After he was asleep, the copper pendant around his neck seared hot against his skin.

* * *

_Much like his first trip into the shared dream space, Quatre awoke in the middle of nowhere, but this time he was startlingly aware of where he was and what was going on, blue eyes wide as they searched over the expanse. It wasn't a field of green grass this time, however, but rather a stretch of coppered and gold sand that glittered in the midday sun and created waves off the ground. He rose to his bare feet and shielded his eyes against the harsh sun that was beating down in him, the hot breeze scattering bits of sand and dirt all over his skin in hot little prickles. The desert wasn't unlike Araaban's, but it seemed infused with life, despite its barren appearance. He knew where he was this time, without a doubt and despite his never setting foot in it once; he was standing in Quattuon. _

_Quatre felt a brief trill of expectation run down his spine, expecting to be whisked directly to where Trowa was like he had the last time, but it never came. Instead, he found the desert melt around him into a huge tiled hall, mosaics of color reflecting on the white, marble walls. Moonlight shone through the large, oval windows that ran down the length of the hall, leading to a pair of large, ornately carved seats, casting the entire chamber in a light glow. It all seemed a peaceful and idyllic scene, but Quatre felt a pit of dread in his stomach that he couldn't explain. He started to explore the chamber, examining the different artwork and pottery that existed and the genuine beautiful tiles that composed the floor. He couldn't say for sure, but he thought that maybe he was in the great Raba palace of Quattuon, a place Rashid and Trowa alike had spoken about with a great amount of reverence and respect. Considering what was going on in his head when he went asleep, it made sense; although, it did make Quatre pause and wonder just who he was sharing this dream with._

_He had just finished the examination of a curious tile that had a picture of a sun and a moon inked onto it when a loud crash was heard outside, followed by an insanely bright flash of light that consumed a number of frightened and surprised screams. The entire floor beneath his feet seemed to shudder and he was frozen as the large doors burst open behind him. He wondered briefly how odd it would be if these people could see him, as Trowa had been able to, but as he was standing in the plain view and drew no attention, he figured that maybe this was a different kind of shared dream. Maybe it wasn't even that, maybe he was just having an incredibly vivid and detailed dream. He smiled ruefully at himself at that last thought before a voice and its accompanying face caught his attention, his eyes wide in familiarity._

"_It would be wise to exit as orderly as possible, no sense in drawing attention when our Maguanacs are doing such an excellent job of that." The speaker was a squat, stocky man, wearing a white coat over the colorful robes, eyes beady and black, matching his hair and sharp mustache. He had a younger face than what Quatre was familiar with, but he was staring at a younger version of his Uncle Hamir. The Hamir that Quatre knew was older, with a lot more wrinkles and gray, but it was undoubtedly him; the idea made his stomach churn unpleasantly._

"_Not yet, Instructor. I'm going to save as many as I can and so I will wait a bit longer, regardless of the danger." The young girl looked young, only a year or two older than Quatre himself in appearance, and glared with eyes a similar color to Quatre's, her blonde hair bound back with a braid from her face. She had darker skin, tawny from a life spent in the unforgiving sun, and a wilder look about her, but the similarities were obvious to anyone who could see, including Quatre. What drew Quatre's most immediate attention, though, was the copper pendant hanging around her neck._

"_Illrea, it's not wise to—"_

"_I will wait." Her tone was stubborn and steely. Her eyes swept the chamber as a few servants, mostly young children and the elderly, were escorted in by a contingent of twenty or so warriors, all fierce and huge. Illrea spared a small, telling smile for one who led another young looking woman over to her, his face broad but kind, eyes the color of cocoa and dark brown hair. This guard hovered behind her as a few more children and servants were rounded up, towering a full foot over her golden head, and Quatre could feel the link between the two of them so strong it nearly knocked him over. Illrea looked around at the small group of fifty or so people around her, a sad look on her face for a moment before the stubborn and determined expression reasserted itself once more._

"_Yamanir, is this everyone you could find?"_

"_Yes, my Lady, it was all we could find without risking discovery." The big man rumbled quietly, his hand coming to rest against her shoulder in a gentle motion._

"_Then it will have to do, Instructor, if you please."_

_Quatre watched his Uncle Hamir nod and start up some kind of sorcery, the warriors surrounding the children and other servants and ushering them through when a kind of portal appeared in the center of the chamber. Illrea moved from beside Yamanir and the younger girl and took up position beside Hamir, touching his soldier while the other hand encircled her pendant. Quatre could feel what she was doing, lending her own strength and life through her empathy, calming Hamir, the Instructor H, and easing his stress as he held open the portal and allowed the gathered people to escape through it. Quatre had never thought his empathy was that useful beyond telling him if someone was lying or not, and yet this girl, Illrea, he could feel her using it on the crowds and warriors as well, calming the children and emboldening the warriors, all the while blocking out the hate, fear, and pain that echoed around him._

"_You know, she never really had the unusual magic her family had always possessed," a voice said from behind Quatre. He whirled around from the scene and was met with the smiling face of Sandrock, her face older this time and her black hair almost completely silver. "But she was quite possibly one of the strongest Empaths to have lived in a thousand years."_

"_Sandrock, what—is this a dream? Am I sharing a dream with you?"_

"_Less of a dream and more of a memory." Sandrock smiled and rested her hand on Quatre's shoulder. "I thought a history lesson might be in order."_

"_You knew."_

"_Of course I did, my dear boy, I've been watching you since you've been born. I'm rather protective of my own. I did not want to burden you with the knowledge with so much already hanging over your head, and no one knew for sure, not really, not even Treize or Dorothy. Illrea made sure that her line would be well protected and H, your Uncle Hamir, also made sure of it. Treize only had suspicions because of the restricted empathy you exhibited, but it wasn't enough for him to know. I suspect he was planning to lie and claim you were the heir, not knowing that he was correct; sheer dumb luck even foils the best of plans. But, as your companion is too logical for his own good, and the smoke vision was quite explicit when it came to you, it can't be helped. To live any longer in ignorance could be dangerous."_

_Quatre was silent as Sandrock gently prodded him around to face the escape going on within the memory-dream-thing. So, he _was_ some kind of long lost prince, and this was his history, one that he knew from his own research ended in tragedy. He was watching the youngest daughter flee, meaning the rest of her family, and consequently his own, was already assassinated and the city and palace of Raba were entrenched in battle and destruction. He wasn't sure he wanted to see that; the emotions he could feel were muted and distant, almost as if they were coming through water before reaching him, but still. He still had his own family tragedy to deal with; he didn't need another to think about. The only ones left were the warriors, the young girl, Illrea, and Hamir and the glass shattered around them, slashing through several of the warriors and spilling crimson bright against the moon, but diverted from most. Quatre looked over at the young girl, her blonde hair whipping around her wildly as she held up her hand, eyes glowing white, obviously the one who kept the rest of the shards from killing anyone else than the few on the ground._

"_That's Illrea's cousin, Moora." Sandrock whispered, her own voice tinged with sadness and regret. "Now, she did have the magic specific to the Quattuon royal family. Remarkably gifted, considering her age."_

_Quatre wanted to ask or say something, but a figure glided in and robbed him of the thought because he knew, without a doubt, despite never seeing her before, who he was looking at. She was tall, easily over six feet tall and had long, blonde hair that, had it not been fanned behind her in a sick parody of a halo, would have reached her ankles. Her skin was pale, porcelain, and effused with an ethereal glow that was echoed in her ice blue eyes that gleamed cruelly, along with the crimson smile that stood out like blood against her white skin. Compared to the Troll he had seen before, Dorothy didn't look like she was even remotely related to one, beyond the black talons jutting from her hands and an internal similarity that Quatre could feel. She landed on the broken glass and raised her arm toward the young girl, Moora, and swept down, black talons flashing. The girl dropped before she could even summon anything to protect her, so busy on keeping the warriors safe she disregarded her own. Quatre's eyes were fixed on Dorothy's as she rose to her full height, talons dripping wet and red, and despite the watery film in between him and the dream's collective emotions, he felt every nuance of her emotions slam into him at nearly full strength. He felt like he was going to be sick and tried to step back, tried to reach for Sandrock, but she was no longer there…and when he looked back up, neither was the blood-stained Raba…_

_Just Dorothy, staring back at him with a frown, as if she was trying to place him, recognizing him peripherally but confused as to why he would be staring back at her. Dawning recognition crossed her eyes and she let out a low snarl, one that definitely seemed Troll-like to him. Quatre felt something akin to terror creep down his spine as those ice blue eyes, one shade from white, stared hard into him, a smirking grin crossing ruby lips and the snarl morphing into a low chuckle. When she smiled at him, pointed, sharp teeth winked at him, and his stomach twisted sick as he took a step back away from them._

"_So, you're the little boy who's been causing me a terrible headache this past year. It's a pleasure to finally meet you…although, I must say, you were awfully rude to ignore my invitation after you doomed everyone you cared about in this realm. Leaving so suddenly without a word as to where to find you, tut-tut darling; not very good manners."_

_Quatre didn't respond, but he kept his gaze on the sorceress in front of him, taking measured steps backwards and trying to put distance between the two of them. He wasn't sure what would happen if she caught hold of him in a dream, but he could assume it wouldn't be good. She continued to smile and walk towards him, echoing his steps, easily closing the gaps between them with her larger strides._

"_I admit, you had me worried for a little bit, not showing the slightest inclination to uncover the Trian prince's face, disregarding all the secrets as nothing more than a necessity, trusting him implicitly because you loved him and all of that rubbish, but all it took was your father's death, that and a seed of doubt. If I had known you would crumble so easily, I would have taken care of you much earlier."_

_Quatre felt the terror fade into white, hot anger, and he clenched his fists, almost completely uncaring that Dorothy was a powerful sorceress and could probably take care of him with no problem. The pendant burned bright around his neck, and singed the delicate skin around his neck._

"_Explain how you dragged me into your dreamscape, boy, and I promise to let you attend my wedding with your prince before I hand you over to my grandfather." She raised her talons and Quatre felt something solid meet his back. However, when she swung down, a cocoon of gold and copper swirled around the surprised blond, absorbing the strike and sending Dorothy flying backwards. She landed with an audible thump against the ground, and pushed her body up onto her elbows, looking at him with renewed astonishment. Quatre looked down and saw, unmistakably, Nix standing between the two blondes, teeth bared towards Dorothy and fluffy fur raised into razor sharp needles all down his back. Dorothy's eyes fixed on the little cat, who seemed much bigger in the dream, and on a spot on Quatre's chest, a spot Quatre knew the pendant he never took off rested._

"_An Areenjan…and Sandrock's pendant…hellfire, it was you all this time. You're the bitch Illrea's heir!" She screeched in rage and tried to reach for him again, but gold mist surrounded the slender blond and Nix. Dorothy's scream of denial echoed and dissipated until nothing was left, Quatre's eyes slipped closed and when they opened…_

…

…

…he was awake and sitting up in Sylvia's spare bed, staring at the beginnings of dawn filter in through his window. Nix was sitting up and staring at him, no longer fierce and menacing in appearance, just staring, silently asking if Quatre was all right, if he believed now, if he was afraid.

Quatre sighed and settled back down, resting his head and closing his eyes, reaching a hand up for Nix to nudge. He didn't have an answer for Nix's questions, and while he could feel the warm comfort the cat was projecting purposely for him, it didn't help. He knew he should feel terrified, shocked, angry, and sad, but the only thing he could feel was resignation.

Resignation that everything was about to get a lot more complicated and frustrating.

* * *

It took close to twenty six blossoms to reach Taurus; twenty-six blossoms withered and gone, leaving only fifty-nine left to find Trowa, just a little over two months. Quatre tried not to voice his frustration over this fact as he knew Heero and himself were going as fast as possible, using short cuts shown by Nix, but that mingled with his near constant worries brought on by the sudden revelations of his heritage, and the fact Dorothy knew too. He found himself checking the skies periodically, expecting a blur of black and blonde to sweep out from the clouds and grab him with her talons. It was a ridiculous fear, as he had a good idea that Nix was somehow shielding him and Heero from sorcery, if his display within Quatre's dream was any indication, but he couldn't help it.

He had not mentioned to Heero or Sylvia that next morning that he had overheard their conversation, nor did he mention his dream, where Sandrock showed him Quattuon and Dorothy appeared. Instead, he smiled and acted as if nothing was amiss, and as neither Heero nor Sylvia had his handy ability, neither suspected anything was different. He wondered if he was being childish or if not saying anything was the correct option considering everything, but he didn't try to dwell on it. Maybe Sandrock would give him a sign or something. Another dream where he witnessed terrible destruction and a psychotic sorceress showed up and tried to kill him. He sighed under his breath, trying to keep his recently developed pessimism under control.

"It would be best if Nix was disguised in some form," Heero muttered. Quatre, knocked from his musings and to numerous worries, looked over at the stoic warrior prince for a moment, down at Nix, and back up at Heero with a quirked eyebrow.

"Why? Do Elves in Taurus not like fluffy cats?" Heero did not find his sarcasm amusing but Nix yipped in humor.

"Areenjans inspire unnecessary questions. I would prefer to not enter a large city with a good amount of politics and trading with extra attention."

"Wouldn't the attention make it easier for Duo to find us, or vice versa?"

"It also makes it easier for assassins and Troll agents that may be in the city."

"You were never this paranoid in any of the other villages we stopped at." Quatre held out his arms for Nix to jump in, which he did with no hesitation. He looked at the little cat and the unusual markings, strange eyes, fur, tail, and everything else that looked different from a usual cat.

"None of them were Taurus." Quatre rolled his blue eyes at the little cat, who yipped in humor again.

To be completely honest, Quatre was nervous about entering Taurus, the large, sprawling city visible for the last few days, having never really been in a large city before. Araaban was a small country, comprised almost solely of villages with a few port towns that were slightly larger and a decent sized royal capital, but that was it. Aside from visiting Bloom, Yueya, and Alliance (all of which were larger than any city he had seen prior), the villages he and Heero had stopped at were small and out of the way. Taurus was huge, bustling, and made Yueya seem positively dwarfish in comparison. This was the capitol of the Elven nations, which were numerous and spanned all over the Fey…Quatre was very nervous, but he simply had too many other things on his mind to really indulge the worry.

"Fine then, Nix, can you change to look like you did when I first met you?"

Nix purred deeply and waved his tail. When he leapt down from Quatre's arms, he looked completely different, a common orange tabby kitten with green eyes that weren't filled with knowledge. He meowed and continued on in between Heero and Quatre, the former looking at the little cat with appraisal.

"That'll do."

Quatre smiled indulgently at the wave of satisfaction and pride coming from Nix, letting out a light laugh as he practically pranced in amusement at his disguise. Quatre looked back up at the city entrance that was quickly approaching, taking not that the surrounding farmsteads and fields were already up and moving, but none paid him and Heero a glance. He supposed they were used to travelers, no matter the time of day or who they were; it was a huge city with a large trade industry, visitors were probably as common as pebbles in a pond.

"I wouldn't ask anyone about Trowa's location, only about Duo and if he's there."

"If? Where else would he be? I thought Sally said he's been living here since…well since the last time he was in the Colonies." Quatre was still careful with the topic of Duo and Heero, even though Heero had strengthened his barriers against Quatre so much that Quatre couldn't have peeked of he wanted to, for fear of another wave of terrible silence to engulf the two of them. The only thing worse than traveling for miles with a not-so-talkative companion was traveling miles with a silent one.

"He's a bard, he travels. He might be there, or we might have to wait for him to loop back to Taurus."

"Trowa might not have that time."

"Nothing we can do about that. If you want to talk to Duo, that's just how it is."

Quatre bit his lip and stifled the retort on his tongue, knowing on some higher level of his brain that he was just tired, frustrated, stressed, and afraid of all the things going wrong that could and that he shouldn't try to pick a fight with Heero. He was quick with his swords, but he was positive Heero would win that fight, hands down. Still, he was getting sick of the whole 'you want to see Duo' and 'it's your decision to seek him out,' when Quatre was positive that under his rock solid barrier was a very real and staggering desire to see this bard again. He didn't know what happened between the two exactly, only that there had been feelings and Heero had somehow insulted the Elf, if Sally's account was correct, but the regret that Heero felt clued the blond to who was the main party to blame.

They entered Taurus a little after morning but it was well after midday before Quatre and Heero reached the more central parts of the city, where buildings were stacked higher than Quatre thought possible, street vendors called out loudly, and the streets overflowed with all sorts of people, Elves being the dominant though, dressed in a myriad of colors and styles. Heero navigated through the city with all the hesitancy of an elephant in a stampede, hand clamped tight over Quatre's wrist so as not to lose the gaping blond. Quatre had practiced his shields with Sylvia before she had parted ways, starting off towards her grandfather as promised, and he marveled at how many more people he could block out. Humans still sneaked in, but Elves, Gnomes, Dwarves, and all other manner of creatures were firmly blocked away, as their natural blocks helped his own and sealed them away. It was nice, like he was back in Araaban, where his gift had been so subtle he forgot he had it sometimes.

Heero led them to a good sized inn that was located centrally within a large section of theaters, merchant stores, and temples, the streets full of Elves dressed much finer than those he had seen earlier. Heero had apparently stayed at this inn before because Quatre felt familiarity and slight fear from the innkeeper, and he was led upstairs to what had to be one of the nicest rooms. Quatre sat down on one of the beds, dropping his packs and staff unceremoniously to the floor, much too tired from all the walking to care about neatness, but Heero dropped his packs and whirled his cloak on.

"Stay here. I'll be back before nightfall."

Quatre frowned and sat up straighter on the bed, fixing Heero with a look. "Stay here? Why? If you're going to start looking for Duo I think I should go too, we can cover more ground if we're both looking."

"I'm not looking for Duo." Heero's eyes were hard flecks of blue that almost looked black in the lamplight. He fastened his cloak and buckled his long sword around his waist, sliding the sword in the scabbard in a fluid motion.

"Then what are you looking for?"

Heero didn't answer. He pulled the cowl from his cloak over his head and started for the door. Quatre felt anger bubble up, but before he could let loose words he had kept inside for the better part of a month, Heero whirled out of the room, the door clicking behind him. Quatre glared at the door from the bed but just let out a frustrated cry and flung back down, laying back with his feet resting on the floor. He should have guessed there was a reason why Heero requested a specific room when he usually just grunted in agreement with whatever Quatre found or the ground in a forest. He glanced over at the staff resting on the floor, his ocean blue eyes focusing on the fifty-ninth blossom that was almost completely withered away before turning his gaze to the ceiling. He felt the anger that had filled him so quickly melt away, leaving only a deep sense of exhaustion and listlessness within him.

Quatre didn't know when he fell asleep, but when he woke, it was well past nightfall, Nix sitting vigilantly at a windowsill, but Heero's bed was empty. He rubbed his eyes and got to his feet, staggering over towards the little cat, who looked every inch himself again. He looked out the window and glanced at the Areenjan's swirling blue eyes for a moment. "Heero's fine, right?"

Nix yipped in agreement, which relieved the blond. He might be miffed that the stoic prince left him here, but sleeping had given him a new perspective and he could understand why he left him here. He had been exhausted and Heero probably had been wondering why Quatre had been acting much more jumpy and anxious. Quatre would've left himself behind too.

"Do you know where he is?"

Another yip, and then a growl as if to say he wasn't going to tell Quatre though.

"Is really isn't looking for Duo?" A definite yip was his reply. "Then what is he looking for?"

He didn't expect and answer and didn't wait for one, feeling sleep beckoning him once more. He held his pendant in his hand has he fell back asleep, hoping to see Trowa or maybe to just not be pulled into any more nightmares that seemed to real, or any that actually were real. This time he slept through the rest of night, with no dreams, and when he woke up with the sun shining through the window, Heero was already up and sharpening one of his many knives on a whetstone. He pushed himself up and glanced blearily around before he yawned, which earned him a look from Heero and a delighted growl from Nix, who was back to looking like a tabby kitten.

"Are we going to start looking for Duo today?"

"Yes. Get dressed and meet me downstairs when you're ready." Heero gave him a curt nod before he left the room, no clicking sound following him this time. Quatre rolled his eyes upwards before giving an excited Nix a small smile. He quickly washed and dressed in light, comfortable clothes, slipping on his flexible leather boots Sylvia had given him, stating that once he tried Elven footwear, he'd never want to wear any old Human shoes again. So far, she was right, he mused, throwing on his deep green cloak and running a hand through his still damp blond hair as he donned his pack and staff. He locked the door behind him, following Nix down the stairs to the main entry of the inn, tucking his pendant under his shirt and jerkin as he did.

After a very quick breakfast, they started off towards various vendors, Heero insisting they not split up as they had in other villages, which made Quatre grind his teeth internally. They asked nearly everyone they could on the street and in the shops, but no one had any sort of idea, all answering similarly, that the bard Shinigami traveled all the time, and to just wait around and he'd show up. Heero seemed unperturbed, but Quatre felt more and more agitated as each hour passed, and then as each day passed. After a week though, another seven blossoms gone and leaving Quatre with only fifty-two days, he finally snapped.

"Heero, we're getting nowhere!" He glared hotly at the stoic prince and earned a surprised look from the various Elves within the shop. Heero glared back and walked over, dragging Quatre out of the store and into a narrow alley where they were out of sight from most on the streets. "We keep asking these vendors and others but none of them even really know Duo beyond him being a famous bard! We don't have time for this!"

Heero stared back, eyebrows furrowed but his face otherwise impassive, but Quatre didn't let his anger go this time, he held onto it and stared back, unflinching and unwilling to waver. Nix purred deeply from in between them. Heero breathed in deep, and hesitantly relaxed his stance.

"The problem is that Elves are not Humans, Quatre. We could find people who do know him, and our answer would be similar…it's just how they are. They can live for so long, more so than anyone else within the Fey; most don't understand the concept of hurrying or being in a rush. If he is traveling, the best hope we have of finding him is waiting here and letting everyone we can that there are two travelers looking for him. They'll tell him when he returns."

"There has to be a way to get him to come back though!"

"Bards, of any race, aren't the type of people to hurry. And where Duo is concerned, little but music will bring him back quicker." Quatre's eyes went wide and he took a step back from Heero as an idea flashed through his head, an idea that was slightly horrifying but seemed like the only solution to their problem. Only music would bring him back quicker…music Quatre could do.

"…so like a musician or something, if the musician asked after him?"

"Sure, if the music was strong enough to garner attention." Heero had an uncharacteristically confused look in his eyes.

"Okay…okay, I can do that. Where's a music shop around here, Heero?"

"…there's one close to the inn. Quatre?"

"Okay. Come on, I think, I have an idea that could work. I don't know how well, but it's worth a shot." He hurried off back towards their inn, Heero and Nix trailing after him. The shop was indeed close by and he rushed upstairs in the inn to grab his bag of money he had carried from Tria, hurrying back out past a clearly lost Heero who just stared at him in question. He wandered over to the music shop and browsed along the shelves until he found what he wanted…a simple, black violin with little adornment. He paid in full, not interested in haggling, and hurried back outside. Heero was waiting and glanced at the violin in Quatre's hands with a kind of dawning understanding, blue eyes going comically wide on his face.

"Where's a good place where bards play? One where we'd be heard?"

"Over near the Lady Deathscythe temple. That was where I met Duo for the first time."

"Okay, lead the way." Quatre almost felt a question form on his tongue, one concerning Heero saying he met Duo here in Taurus, when Sally had said it was at his majority…but he pushed it aside for another time. Right now, he had a mission to focus on. He needed to get Duo here as fast as he could, he couldn't afford distractions. Heero led him to a beautiful temple, where there were already a few bards playing, underneath a majestic oak tree.

"Here?"

"As good as any. How well can you play, Quatre? It'll take talent to catch attention and Elves usually have centuries to practice their instrument and skill."

"I can play well enough; I've been told I'm decent, so I guess we'll find out how much, won't we? Do I have to sing?"

"Most bards do, but not always."

"Well, I know some Araaban lullabies. I guess I'll just have to make do."

Quatre took a deep breath and sent a whispered prayer to Allah, Sandrock, the Lady Deathscythe, and whatever other deity might be listening that this could, would work. He played a few notes, getting a feel for the violin and how each note sounded when strummed a certain way, tuning it when he felt necessary. The violin was well made and answered each note he tested with a crystal clear sound, and after a few more trials, varying the length and force of his draws, and plucking the strings a few different ways to establish the variations of sound he could create. He rested the violin under his chin and closed his eyes, trying to summon a song he knew to mind, one that might catch the attention of others, and one that he could sing, even though he hadn't sung for a crowd since he was little.

Nix meowed softly, still in his kitten form, and rubbed against the slender blond's leg, and Quatre opened his eyes and looked down at the bouncing cat. Quatre smiled and found the song he wanted, one that his father had first taught him to play, one that had been much too hard for a six year old to start with but one that his father had said if he could play this song, he would never have any trouble learning others. He shut his eyes once more and lifted the bow, drawing it across the string in strong, clear notes and began the playful song, fingers flying across the strings flawlessly. He felt his body sway in time with the music and smiled as he remembered the words, still not voicing them, just playing the music and letting it wash over him. He could feel Heero back away and melt within the others he could sense gathering, just a few really, but he was happy with them, and Nix started prancing around, weaving in and out between Quatre's feet as he stepped and moved with the rhythm.

He played the song through a few times, varying the notes, speed, and beat of the song before he looped back to the beginning, opened his eyes, and softly started singing the words he and his sisters would sing in their native tongue. He didn't know what kind of image he made, but he hoped that his unusual language, one that was from the Mortal lands and not from Fey would attract attention, enough for Heero to ask around for Duo, or enough for one to think he was worth mentioning later on. He smiled around his words and closed his eyes again, letting the music wrap around him once more. He opened his empathy a bit, just so he could get a feel for the others around him, and was startled at how many he could sense, and the frank appreciation and wonder they were emoting.

He finished the song and opened his eyes, strummed the strings sharply and stopped, taking a breath before he sang the words in common tongue.

"_Scruffy little cat, sitting in a tree, scruffy little soul, just like me…"_

Quatre continued playing, drawing the bow and vibrating the notes, giving the song a more whimsical and hopeful tone. He sang one of his sisters' favorite songs, about an orphaned child's wish to be free of hardship and his friendship with the street cats he lived with; his quest to make his own family. He had played this song with Trowa…he kept his voice steady and in tune with the violin's notes, adjusting the song when necessary so he didn't attempt a note he knew his voice couldn't handle. He finished the song with a final series of echoing music that morphed and played with the wind and his voice, dropping the bow and violin to either side and giving a small bow to the good sized crowd he had gathered around him. He smiled as the crowd broke out into applause, among them Heero, who was looking at him with a strange look, one that had comprehension that Quatre couldn't place. Many Elves came up and complimented him on the different and beautiful playing, asking if he would be back to play the next day, and even some of the other bards who had been in the square came up and expressed their appreciation for the song. To almost every praise, question, and offering of money, Quatre responded the same way.

"Thank you, but the only compensation I require is to spread word to Shinigami that I wish to meet him, and will continue to play where he does until he returns."

Heero helped usher him away from the continuing pleas for another song or for a name, and they made their winding way back to their inn, all the while Quatre couldn't help but smile. That had gone better than he could've hoped for, and he felt a glimmer of hope spark within him that had been absent since his dream with Dorothy, that maybe this could work, maybe he could get Duo to return. He hadn't expected so many people to listen him today, he'd have to try and remember more Araaban songs so he could play those as well. Quatre turned his smile over towards Heero as they sat down at a sequestered table within the inn and waited for the inn keeper's wife to bustle over and take their dinner orders.

"This could work, Heero! I didn't think so many people would actually listen, but they did…I'd hoped that the song would be different enough to garner attention but—"

"That crowd had nothing to do with where the song came from or what language it was." Heero gave Quatre a very piercing, knowing look.. "It had to do with you and your own abilities. You play very well, even by Elven standards."

"Me? I play well enough but…was it that good?"

"Has no one told you that?"

"Well, my family always said I played very well, and so did Trowa and everyone in Tria manor but…well, that's different. They're family…they just said that because—"

"No, they said it because it was true." Heero rested his elbow on the table and propped up his chin, analytically looking over Quatre, who felt warmth creep up his neck from the attention. "Quatre, do you know what that crowd saw today, when you played in the square?"

Quatre shook his head, glancing over at Nix, who had decided to drop his disguise within the relatively privacy of the inn.

"They saw an attractive blond, Human boy play an unusual and exotic song with skill that even Elves respect, sing it in an equally exotic language and then in common, while a tabby kitten danced with him. You looked like one of the Seraphim playing and singing the way you did."

Quatre felt a familiar sense of embarrassment creep up into his cheeks, mainly because he could sense the unblocked sincerity radiating from Heero's voice. Heero gave him an amused smirk and leaned back in his booth.

"I think I can see why Trowa felt it necessary to risk the curse, and the second one later, when he first saw you play. I wouldn't be surprised if you start getting courting offers when you play again."

"Well I—I'm not asking for those. I just—when I play it's just—I can't explain it…"

"I'm not asking you to, just letting you know you're much better and much more effective at garnering attention than you think."

"So, do you think this will work?"

Heero smiled, which surprised Quatre enough in and of itself. "It just might."

* * *

Quatre, true to his promise, continued to play under the oak tree every day in the afternoon, singing and playing old lullabies and songs he knew from childhood, some that made his ever growing crowd laugh in loud guffaws or smile sadly with tears. And, true to Heero's word, Quatre started getting those gifts and declarations of affection, all of which he rebuked as gently as he could, stating that his heart was taken and the only gift he wanted was for Shinigami to return so they could meet. Understandably, this made some suitors that much more voracious while others (mostly the female suitors) swooned and stated that the entire story was just so romantic. Heero just smirked at Quatre's predicament.

He played the black violin and sang his lullabies every day for close to two weeks, thirteen blossoms withered and leaving just thirty-nine left, never wavering, Nix dancing with him in his little kitten form. And, on the eve of his fourteenth day, just as he was about to finished his playing, bemoaning the thirty-eight blossoms he knew had left, he heard another instrument come alive from within his now very large and devoted crowd, a crowd that had demanded he move to a concert hall. Quatre paused and listened as the music floated playfully and quickly over his ears, coming from a wind instrument, one that reminded Quatre of Trowa's flute, but much more playful. Quatre, feeling a sense of hope bubble up in his chest, answered back, echoing each and every note from the unknown bard. He received another set of notes and played them, smiling as the flute, a definite pan flute now Quatre could tell, continued to play with him.

The crowd parted and Quatre found himself staring back at a young looking man, one who looked no older than he did, and the crowd started cheering wildly. The bard smirked and played his pan flute as he made his way to where Quatre played, violet eyes twinkling mischievously and a long, chestnut braid trailing behind him, pointed ears poking out from the thick hair. Quatre knew…he knew that this was who had been waiting for and finished playing the unknown song right as the bard did, coming to stop in front of him, taking Quatre's hand and bowing them both as the crowd erupted into applause. When it calmed enough, the violet-eyed Elf turned to meet Quatre's blue eyes, still holding his hand and smiled in a manner that made Quatre flush and incredibly embarrassed.

"Why hello there, Blondie. Name's Shinigami, I hear you've been looking for me?"

"Duo."

The Elf's eyes widened and he turned so quickly that Quatre wouldn't have been surprised if he got whiplash. Quatre looked over the Elf's shoulder as Heero pushed his way to the front of the crowd, looking stonily and with a fair amount of apprehension that was otherwise hidden from his face back at the clearly surprised Duo. The Elf glanced back at Quatre and dropped the blond's hand and placed both hands on his hips, looking skywards with a very put upon expression on his face.

"Well, fuck me."

* * *

Edited chapter for structure, clarity, and grammar. Enjoy!

Osco


	11. Chapter 11

Candlelight (11/?)

Author: Osco

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xS

Rating: R

Warnings: Lemony goodness, violence, language, magical happenings, and ugly Trolls attempting to ruin the story!

Summary: Retelling of the fairy tale, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" GW style. What if you made a mistake? What if the person you loved had to pay the price? How far would you go to save him? How about a place that can't exist?

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I am but a poor college student who has no hold over the characters whatsoever and is doing this as a pastime.

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**Chapter Eleven: **_**The Bard from Taurus**_

The next two hours were quite possibly the most awkward and uncomfortable Quatre had ever experienced, wedged between Heero and Duo has they made their way back to their inn and explain what was going on. Well, Quatre was really the only one explaining anything, as Heero seemed content to stare stonily at the pleasant and cheerful bard, who in turn seemed content to grin maliciously at Heero every time he draped an arm across Quatre's shoulders. By the time they were settled around a table within the dark folds of their inn, and finished with his whole tale of Trowa, the curses, and Sylvia's, Quatre was muttering up silent prayers to whatever deity watched over Taurus to put him out of his misery. He blushed and scowled over at Duo again when he felt the elf's hand wander in a not-so-public place, knocking the hand away and hoping fervently that Heero didn't decide to murder him here and now, mission be damned.

"Would you quit it?!" Quatre hissed the warning out, the words squeaking between his clenched teeth.

"My bad, Blondie, just can't seem to help myself." Duo smiled, completely unperturbed by the increasingly dangerous glint in blue-green eyes.

"What part of 'Trowa's my fiancé' do you not understand?"

"Well, Trowa's not here right now is he? I'm just trying to help out how lonely I bet you are, you know, being forcibly separated from your lover and all. I, for one, would. But, at least your separation was due to sorcery, not just plain old pigheadedness."

"Duo, stop being a moron."

"Oh, I'm sorry, does it make you uncomfortable, _He-chan_? Well, excuse me for not taking your feelings into account; next time, I'll be sure to consider how you would feel if I groped an attractive blond under the table. Because, you have so much say in what I decide to do."

Heero growled in a distinctly menacing manner, Quatre thought, to which Duo smiled brightly back, his violet eyes glittering in a challenging style.

"Sorry I don't speak wolf. Try words, buddy."

"Would you guys please just—?"

"Maxwell."

"Oh, are we to last names already?"

"Please, both of you, just—"

"The sarcasm is not helping."

"Really, are you sure? Because I happen to think it's extremely beneficial to our current conversation. "

"Really, this isn't helping—"

"We're not talking about this again. I explained why this wouldn't work."

"Yes, the ever so eloquent 'me human, you elf' argument, which I might add, is so antiquated I would think it was you who was five hundred, not me. Please, you may be a lot of things, Heero, but I never thought coward was one of them."

Quatre glanced around at the stares they were starting to attract before he glared back at the bickering pair, a deep and hot anger spreading through his veins like wildfire. He could understand the awkwardness and the anger that was between these two, and to an extent, he did feel slightly bad about asking them to do this, especially when it was blatantly obvious to him that these two still had a whole convoluted mess of feelings between them, but he had hoped that they would ignore that for the present in light of the other pressing issue facing them. This was pointless and they were wasting time they didn't have! He stood up abruptly and slammed his palms against the table, effectively halting the arguing and casting a deadly silence all throughout the inn's pub. He glared hotly at the pair of them before he swung his cloak over his shoulders and picked up his staff from the ground.

"I didn't come here to listen to you both go at each other's throats! I came here because I thought that you, Duo, would help me find Trowa, help me save him, and I thought that's what you were here for, Heero. Because Sylvia's smoke vision showed a whole lot of stuff that didn't make sense, but this was the one step of advice and guidance that did! But, if this is all you're intent on doing, I'll leave and do this myself! Trowa doesn't have time for you two to decide whether or not you prefer to bicker like children or can put aside differences and the past for the moment to help him!"

Neither Heero nor Duo said anything, Heero's face a stoic mask, but his eyes were stormy and clouded as the blond's words pierced his soul and Duo's violet eyes, which had been so full of anger and bitterness before, wide and properly contrite. Quatre stared at them, his own ocean inked eyes unrelenting and almost glowing in determination, Nix moved to sit beside his arm on the table, swirling eyes fixing on the two as well. The little cat had remained completely uninterested in the predicament up until Quatre got upset, and was now looking all too much like a mother admonishing her cubs. He growled deep in his chest as he stared at the now appropriately sheepish looking Elf and the stubborn prince, as if daring them to let the blond go off on his own. It was surprisingly intimidating, and Quatre thought back to his dream with Dorothy, when little Nix had appeared as a warrior in his defense. A sharp and clear laugh brought him back to the present and he glanced over at Duo.

Quatre's was more than a little surprised at that smiled and when Duo threw his head back and let loose a musical laughter which filled up the silent inn, he clutched his staff tighter and narrowed his eyes in confusion. Laughter was the one reaction he had not expected, but the sound of it did signal an instant return to conversation all over the inn, which the blond was grateful for. All the attention on them was creating an unpleasant ache against his shields. Duo stood up in an effortlessly graceful manner and gave Quatre a genuine smile, something that the blond suspected he hadn't truly seen until this moment, not even in the courtyard.

"Well, it's not every day an Elf gets scolded by a Human, especially when said Elf has at least four hundred years on the kid. And it's not every day he's right." Duo bent over in an unmistakable bow, smirking when he rose and offered his hand to the surprised blond. "Why don't we start over, eh Blondie? The name's Duo, I may run and hide, but I never lie, and I heard you've misplaced a Trian prince. Need some help getting him back?"

Quatre felt a smile tug at his lips and he placed his hand in Duo's letting the Elf shake it before he withdrew his hand and touched his forehead and inclined towards Duo, offering up his own Araaban greeting. "Quatre Raberba Winner, nice to meet you, and yes, if you don't mind; I did kind of come here for your help."

Duo grinned cheekily before glancing back at a still sitting and silent Heero, eyes flickering between a plethora of emotions that Quatre didn't even try to identify before he cocked his hip to the side and placed his hands on his hips and smiled brightly down at the Sive prince. "What do ya say, Heero? Put aside bickering in the interest of rescuing our favorite uni-banged prince? I don't have a clue about where someplace can be East of the Sun and West of the Moon, but I know some people who know some people who might."

He stuck out his hand toward Heero, who responded by staring at the hand with a blank look before standing, ignoring the hand, and inclined his head fractionally towards both Quatre and Duo. The blond caught the exaggerated exasperation from Duo has he pulled his hand back, a loud sigh escaping out of his throat, but his empathy caught the needle of hurt that didn't reach the perpetually happy eyes. Quatre had a feeling he was going to want to find a needle of his own as this journey continued, one to drive through his temple and put himself out of the misery he knew was coming. It was bad enough dealing with Heero's tightly controlled emotions that still leaked out into him, he didn't really need longing and unrequited love filtering into him too.

"It would not be beneficial for Trowa if we don't work together."

"Well, I think that's the closest thing you're going to get to an 'I'm sorry,' Cat, so we should probably just leave the, ah, wolf at that." Duo smiled at Quatre's truly dumbfounded look; who the bloody nine hells insulted the Sive prince like this on a regular basis and wasn't more paranoid? Quatre glanced worriedly at Heero, who was glaring at the violet eyed bard with all the fury of a wild dog fighting for a scrap of meat, and had another moment where he knew he was in for a rather unpleasant, immediate future.

The waitress finally came by with plates of food, having deemed it was safe for her to venture to their table now that the situation was diffused enough to not seem so close to an explosion. She paused at the winning smile Duo sent her before scurrying away, Heero's frosty glare discouraging her from any untoward behavior towards the charismatic bard; Quatre rolled his eyes skyward before glaring at Nix, who seemed completely disinterested with the three of them now that everything had calmed down slightly. Quatre gave the little cat an arch look but didn't say anything, knowing he wouldn't have the cat's attention now that food was here to occupy his attention. He heard Duo call his name, or the abbreviation of his name that made him think fondly of his family and of Trowa; it just figured that the bard would call him that too.

"So, Cat, you're from the Mortal lands? And an Empath? That's an interesting combo. Are there many Empaths where you're from, we've never really checked, just kind of assumed Mortals were generally powerless, hence not living in Fey."

"Well—I didn't know anyone else but…"

"That doesn't really matter." Heero's eyes were staring hard at Duo, who looked slightly amused and miffed at the same time. "He has a rare gift, it's not unlike you."

Duo was silent, but it wasn't for the reason Quatre initially thought. Initially, Quatre thought that Duo was trying to come up with something to say in response to the genuine admiration in Heero's comment, but when he looked over at the Elf, the violet eyes were focused on him. The eyes glittered with a deviousness that made Quatre slightly nervous before they focused back on Heero. A sly smile spread across the braided Elf's handsome face and Quatre felt a stab of uncertainty come from the stoic prince, which was unusual for Heero.

"Why you Humans feel the need to keep everything secret, I'll never know. Power comes from knowledge, doesn't it? Ignorance just keeps you wandering around the dark, not exactly helping anyone that way, are you?"

Heero growled and Quatre felt distinctly uncomfortable. Duo knew, just like Heero did and Sylvia, and he barely knew him. Quatre wondered faintly if he had really been the only one to have no idea about his family, the blood in his veins, even after reading the histories and the knowledge of how rare his gift was. Duo's comfortable snicker caught his attention again, just in time to watch the Elf hold up his hands in a surrendering manner.

"Fine, fine, you grumpy old wolf, have it your way," Duo smirked. The tips of Heero's ears turned slightly red, which was utterly fascinating to Quatre, who had never seen the prince anything but composed or annoyed. It was nice to see, he decided, to see how this one boy, Elf, could illicit so much from Heero without even trying. Quatre hoped for their own sakes (as well as his own, privately) that they resolved some things on this mission; Quatre knew they would make each other happy if they let it happen. And him as well; he really didn't know how much unrequited or unacknowledged love flying around he could handle on top of everything else.

Heero stood up abruptly and stalked away from the table, heading towards the exit, muttering something about needing to check the perimeter, face pulled into a tight scowl, the door to the inn slamming shut behind him. Quatre stared after him and kept silent, even after hearing Duo's undignified giggles, for a few moments, almost unsure if he should even dare to join in. He felt a smile tug at his lips though as the giggles continued, and he glanced back around at the violet eyed Duo, whose body was thrumming in times with his muffled laughter. He probably shouldn't have felt so amused at Heero's discomfort, for so many obvious reasons, but the grin and laughter was infectious and before he knew it, he was laughing too. The pair of them continued for some time until the only evidence of their humor was lingering grins and an escaped chuckle or two. Quatre smiled down at Nix, who had curled up and shut his eyes, full and satisfied and completely unconcerned with whatever was going on, and felt the good mood begin to lift again, replaced with his heavy and usual despondent distraction. He heard a throat clear and he looked back up at the braided boy, eyes shining in a knowing sort of way.

"Can't say that you don't look good with the whole kicked puppy look, Cat, but I bet that you'd look better with a smile." Duo leaned back in his chair, booted feet coming to rest against the edge of the table. "Though, I guess I can't really blame you for the long face; I'd be pretty bummed too if my lover was whisked away in the dead of night and now I had the whole fate of the Fey resting on my shoulders."

Quatre's face pinched into a slightly confused look for a second, mainly because he wasn't used to all of the strange terms that the Elf used, before it hardened into a mask of determination. "It doesn't matter what I feel, all that matters is getting Trowa back."

Duo hummed in response, not really agreeing or disagreeing, and took a sip of his drink. "I suppose you'd feel that way too. Gotta say though, you've got a sure lot more guts than most would in this situation; Trowa's a lucky guy he decided to kind of pseudo-stalk you, kidnap you under loving pretenses, and whisk you away into a strange and dangerous land. You know, it would make a good ballad, if we knew the ending."

Quatre stared in response and felt a bemused smile tug up his lips. Hearing the description of Trowa's unorthodox method of courting from someone other than those who knew him best was refreshing—looking back, stalking, kidnapping and whisking away was all that had occurred. He had kind of ignored their beginnings after meeting Trowa, after falling in love with him. He looked once more at the bard and felt a kind of awakening overtake him, like he was really seeing Duo for the first time, like he hadn't really understood him before but now he was a step closer to it. "You're not at all what I expected."

Duo smiled in response and tilted his head back. "You heard of me prior to Sylvia's spooky-smoke-mirror thing?"

"From Sally. She kind of told me a little bit of what happened between you and Heero at his majority, and the rest I kind of picked up along the way. I kind of thought you would be…I don't know, a little more reserved, serious. Not really a joker."

"Really? Well, that's just…" Duo laughed out loud and set his feet back on the floor, leaning across the table into Quatre's face, a devilish smile spreading across his face. "That's just a gas, uh? Why? If you got the story then I'm sure you got some of it from Wuffers too."

"I don't know. They both said that you were an Elf and that you liked nicknames, but I just thought if you were involved with Heero that you'd be a bit more…or a bit less boisterous I guess." He felt heat creep up into his face at the playfully teasing way Duo looked at him.

"You didn't think someone as tightly wound up as Heero would ever go for someone who wasn't a bit like him, uh?" Duo leaned back into his seat, a smile still playing on his face, but this time, Quatre picked up on the bitter acknowledgement that laced the words, that dimmed the bright purple eyes just a little.

"Well, I had only met Heero once when I heard that story—and it wasn't the complete version. The more I've traveled with Heero, and caught glimpses of you, the more I kind of adjusted what I thought you'd be like. It's a good surprise, I think, that you're so different from him, otherwise I don't think you would get a response out of him. You wouldn't stick in his mind so much."

"Stuck in his mind, uh."

"You have no idea." Quatre breathed it out before he thought better of it, and he winced at the sharp look he got from the Elf. "I mean—it's not like I purposefully peek or anything! I just—sometimes when I'm tired the shields I practice at don't work that well and things just…pop into my head. With Heero, most of the time, I could see bits and pieces of you, or who I thought was you."

"It bothered you." Duo didn't really ask, but he looked on, curious.

"No, not really. Emotions like that, they don't really bother me by themselves; I guess you could even say I like having them around me, like they help buffer against the way more numerous and toxic emotions I can't seem to help picking up. It was just…it hurt I think, feeling what he did sometimes when he thought of you; it was too close to what I'm always feeling."

Quatre paused and focused his ocean blue eyes directly into violet with a deep and intense truth echoing within them. "He loves you, I think, and even though I think he would murder me in my sleep, Trowa be damned, if he knew I was telling you all this but…but I think you deserve to know."

Duo didn't act surprised or happy at Quatre's proclamation, just stared back and smiled in a rueful manner, which startled the slender blond a little. His face lost its certainty and adopted a look of confusion; it was unnerving how often Duo surprised him, acting a way different than what Quatre thought he would. Duo shook his head, head and reached down to pick up the end of his braid, fingers beginning to play with the strands in a way that Quatre thought felt sad, resigned.

"Cat, love was never the problem. But, you know that saying, or maybe you don't, but I think it's common enough to be known outside the Fey; sometimes love just isn't enough. I've known how Heero felt concerning me for years, and so has he, but he refuses to do anything, to recognize that it exists. Not much I can do against that, except what I already do, and we all seem to know how well that's worked for me so far."

"But then—"

"Don't get me wrong," Duo half-smiled. His head tilted back and purple glinted at Quatre from a half-lidded eye. "I'm not saying I'm throwing in the towel or anything, just that it's a bit more complicated than I would want. But, then again, I am Shinigami, Elven bard extraordinaire! What bard wants to fall in love ordinarily when all we sing about is epic adventures and obstacles? I don't think I'd be able to look any of the other bards and minstrels in the eye again if I didn't have some kind of epic of my own!"

Quatre was silent, picking up the lie, knowing that Duo didn't want the complex, that he wanted the simple and wanted to point out that lie, but Heero's reentrance halted his opportunity, a slightly calmer face fixing on both of them and stating that they should all go to bed, having a full day ahead of them. Duo, without a glance back, rose from his seat and grabbed his various packs and instruments, announcing he had a stop to make before they left and that he'd see them bright and early. Heero didn't spare Quatre one glance as Duo whirled out the door, fierce blue eyes fixed on the long, swinging chestnut braid and the body attached to it as it disappeared into the night. He turned around and stomped up the stairs to their room, face carefully blank. Quatre sighed and resigned himself to a fitful night, knowing he would be lucky to get any sleep with all that Heero would be feeling.

He rose up from his table, placing some coins on the table for the waitress, Nix rising with him, as if he had been awake the entire time, which Quatre thought was a distinct possibility. The room was silent when he entered, and feeling utterly drained from the events of the day, he collapsed on his bed, still fully dressed. He kicked off his boots and shut his eyes as he felt Nix curl up into his side, hand reaching up and closing around his pendant, which was warm under his palm. He faintly hoped that the next day would finally start to look different, that his mission to find Trowa would finally have some kind of direction, but sleep overtook his thoughts and he felt himself drift, echoes of laughing violet eyes and half smiles on stern faces filling up his head, no matter how he tried to fight them.

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_Quatre was, again, lying in the middle of a large field. This time, however, he deemed it prudent if he just stayed still, didn't look around and didn't try to seek anyone out. The last time he went into a dreamscape was still etched in his mind and he had no desire to repeat that night or run into a much more enlightened Dorothy. No, he would just stay right here, close his eyes, and wait until Heero woke him up. His wonderfully logical plan was thwarted though, when he felt the soft grass beneath him shift into hard cobblestone and the quiet of the field transformed into the noisy din of a city. Swearing under his breath, Quatre sat up on his forearms and looked around, recognizing the now familiar cityscape and horizon of Taurus. He pushed to his feet and looked around, the figures filmy and watery in his eyes as he walked around the courtyard he was also familiar with, the one he had been waiting for Duo in. At the thought of the violet-eyed bard, Quatre heard a very festive and playful song enter his ears, and he turned around._

_And there, right under the large oak tree, was a slightly younger Duo, looking as if he was fifteen or sixteen years old, playing his pan flute and dancing around, his braid flying behind him. He had a large crowd gathered around him and cheering, and within that crowd, Quatre spotted another familiar sight, the sight of an old man with metal hands and a creepy grin, talking to another old man, this one who Quatre thought vaguely resembled a mushroom with a very large nose. J and the unknown man talked to themselves as Duo played and finished his song, taking an exaggerated bow as the crowd cheered. Quatre felt himself walking closer and closer to Duo; the crowd was scattering away, going about their own way now that Duo was finished, and as he got closer, he noticed he wasn't the only one making his way towards the vibrantly happy looking Elf. No, stopping directly in front of Duo was a very serious looking child with a wild shock of dark brown hair and scowling blue eyes, a child that Quatre would know anywhere._

_Heero._

_Quatre froze and stared at the scene unfolding before him, as a very young looking Heero stopped directly in front of an only slightly younger looking Duo. He remembered that time here was different, that Humans could live for much longer than normal, and that Elves lived even longer. He wondered briefly how long ago this memory (he had no doubt that's what he was watching now, though the how he was still a little confused about, and whose it was, though he had his suspicions) took place, and whose it was, but Heero interrupted his train of thought._

_"Is all you do all day is play that stupid instrument?" Heero's scowl was met with a slightly bemused smile from Duo._

_"You don't want to call Lil' Scythe stupid now, she'll get angry."_

_"It's pipes of wood tied together, it's not alive."_

_"Oh yeah, smarty-pants, how do you know? Have you tried talking to her?"_

_"It's not alive."_

_"Well, it might not breathe, but that doesn't mean it's not alive. Here, go ahead, feel for yourself." Duo held the pan flute out to Heero's hand, a smile on his face. The little boy looked at the instrument analytically, which made Quatre smile to himself, before he touched it without hesitation. Quatre couldn't really see anything unusual happen, but he felt something thrill along the wood and zap into little Heero's hand, something that felt humored and indignant, something alive. Heero's eyes flew open and he snatched his hand away, glaring at Duo in both surprise and anger._

_"You did something. Wood doesn't spark normally."_

_"Nope, not me at all, that was all Lil' Scythe. See? Life is everywhere, even in places you wouldn't expect. You want to know where her name came from?"_

_"Hn."_

_"Well aren't you talkative little human? I named her after the Lady Deathscythe, patron lady of all the Elves and one of the Great Ladies, just like the Lady Wing, whose sign you wear on that chain. You see, when I was really little, I was alone and wanted a friend, and after wandering around for hours and hours, I found myself in a surrounded by a bunch of oak trees. I knew where I was, I was surrounded by the Dead Oaks, where I remembered being told Deathscythe liked to come when she was younger, where she lived as a girl. I wished for a friend in that glade and then I heard a voice…"_

_"Your story isn't scary…or even convincing."_

_"Well that's too bad because it really did happen! Whether you believe me or not, the Lady appear out of nowhere and she gave my Lil' Scythe if I promised to make her come to life, and I would find my friend. So, that's what I do, I play music with her and she comes to life every day I play underneath this oak tree. She's alive because the music she plays is her breath, and even if she doesn't talk, she still listens. And when she hears someone saying that she doesn't, she can get a little annoyed, after all, wouldn't you if someone said that you didn't live?"_

_Quatre saw Heero frown deeper at the cheerful Elf, obviously in war with himself over to believe the bard or not, but he was robbed of the decision when J came over and placed a metal hand behind the small boy's shoulders and guided him away. Before the scene melted away, he saw the mushroom-man smirking at Duo, saying something that made the bard frown and cast a long look over his shoulder at the retreating boy. Quatre closed his eyes to ward off the dizziness the swirling images caused, and when he opened them once more, he was surprised to see he was in the same spot, within the courtyard, next to the oak tree. Duo was playing again, this time, strumming a lyre and singing a lively song that had the crowd laughing brightly. Quatre's brows puckered in confusion, as the elf looked the same to him, but again, once the crowd parted and left after his songs, there was Heero, no longer appearing five, but closer to twelve, scowl still in place, but a warmth in his eyes as he watched Duo bow at patrons._

_"Well, are you just going to stand there all day, He-chan, or are you going to say hello?" Duo cast the prince a teasing smile as he gathered coins into a leather pouch, strands of chestnut hair escaping from his braid and falling across his face. _

_"Don't call me that, I'm not an infant."_

_"That's the beauty of nicknames though, can't pick 'em, someone else does for you, and you just have to live with them."_

_"You look the same." Heero frowned up at the bard as he straightened to standing._

_"Well, it hasn't been all that long, has it? Twenty years…you've grown a bit though! Look at you, already up to my shoulder!"_

_"Shut up."_

_"Eloquent as ever, He-chan."_

_Quatre smiled at the exchange, settling himself on the ground by them, crossed legs used as a perch for his elbows as he cradled his face in his hands, simply watching. It was obvious that some time had passed; he could feel the familiarity between the two, a friendship, and the blond ginned wider when Duo flicked Heero on the nose in a teasing gesture, making the prince scowl even deeper. It was nice to see Duo get so much out of the prince, emotions that weren't tainted with regret and anger yet. Duo plopped down on the ground, sitting inelegantly in a heap while Heero remained standing, poised and controlled._

_"So, how's Sive? Not sick of being a prince yet, are you?" Duo smiled brightly up at the younger boy._

_"It's fine and no, I'm not. It was an honor to be chosen by Lady Wing to lead, I wouldn't just throw that away."_

_"No, I guess you wouldn't, uh?" Duo canted his head to the side and laughed gently to himself. Quatre noticed the red tinge to Heero's ears. "You make any friends yet? I hear that there're few other princes and princesses around your age in the Colony Kingdoms…funny how that worked out."_

_"I've met others, they seem acceptable. You promised to come visit, but you didn't."_

_"It's been awhile since I've been there; it's not easy to go back to someplace you've been avoiding for so long."_

_"You've been there?"_

_"Long time ago, way before you were even around yet! Some bad stuff happened, I was just a kid, didn't really understand a lot of it, but people died, humans and elves alike, and when I left with G I promised I wouldn't go back unless something made me. Something big and worthy of a song."_

_Heero didn't say anything to that reply and Quatre didn't get a chance to think any further when his surroundings shifted again, people and time zooming by him in squiggly blurs of light and shapes. When the scene cleared for a third time, Quatre was still sitting under the oak tree within Taurus, but this time, instead of it being day, the moon shone bright on the cobblestones and white branches. Duo was lying on his back, hand resting comfortably behind his head, staring up at the twinkling stars high above. He was humming to himself, and looked an inch away from sleep, but he frowned and sat up when he, and by proxy Quatre, heard footsteps behind him. Duo's bright violet eyes focused in the dark with a sharpness that humans couldn't hope to achieve, widened and then smiled in time with his mouth. _

_Duo rose up to his feet in a fluid motion, his pan flute belted loosely at his side and his hands resting against his hips, looking up into a pair of dark blue eyes that he used to look down at, smirk resting comfortably against his lips. "Beginning to think you asked me here only to stand me up. Just goes to show that you should never try and predict a Sive prince, he'll always surprise you when you least expect it."_

_Heero said nothing, just stared down into Duo's face, his hand unconsciously reaching forward and tangling fingers within the chestnut braid that dangled before him. Quatre felt distinctly uncomfortable, watching a moment, a memory of either or both of them that was intimate and private. He closed his eyes and tried to force himself out of the dream, away from a moment that wasn't his and painfully reminded him too much of the first time Quatre had met Trowa, well met him when he wasn't the Bear. It didn't work, his opened eyes still faced with Heero and Duo and an oak tree. He growled under his breath and tried to block out the words from his ears, but he didn't have that much success._

_"You've grown."_

_"That tends to happen over time, and so have you! Not the scrawny little prince anymore, are you? Look at this, you're taller than me, I've never had to look up at you before, and I have to say, I thought you'd end up on the short side for the longest time."_

_"Hn."_

_"Again with the words, you better watch it, an Elf could get a complex from all the flattery and praise packed within that grunt."_

_"Duo."_

_Duo's smirk faded into a friendlier and genuine expression as he returned Heero's stare, an expectant look on his face. When all that passed between the two for next few minutes was breath and stares, Duo tilted his head back and let out a very put upon sigh, one that Quatre recognized from that first encounter earlier that night, and gave Heero an arch look. Heero, to his credit, didn't let his confusion show on his face, but Quatre could tell by how he narrowed his eyes just a fraction in addition to his own different way to tell._

_"Do you remember when you asked me to wait for you to get big? That second time you and the old geezer visited, because you said you would be the friend that the Lady promised me for playing Lil' Scythe, but I was too much older, you needed to get bigger first? You were just little, still a young child then."_

_Quatre frowned and guessed that was from a different memory that hadn't played, as he had no idea what Duo was talking about, but Heero had no such problem and nodded slowly._

_"Well, I did wait for you, and the strangest thing happened. Wouldn't you know it, I found out I wasn't waiting for you to be my friend, because you were already that, and I already had friends on my own…and that wasn't exactly what the Lady meant when she made me that promise. It was for something else…something I have a feeling I'm going to have to show you because, the Lady knows, you won't figure it out otherwise."_

_Then, before Heero could really think about what Duo was saying or implying, the violet-eyed bard reached up and pressed his lips to the stoic prince's. It didn't last long, just a fleeting, telling touch and it was mainly one-sided, Heero to shocked to respond for most of it, which made Duo smile when he pulled away. Heero's hand entangled itself more thoroughly within Duo's braid._

_"So…you said earlier you wanted to ask me something? Care to enlighten me?" Duo's head titled to the side and his smile was so bright it was practically glowing in the night. And, much to Quatre's surprise, he saw a small upturn of lips on Heero when he answered._

_"J wants to throw my majority this summer. I want you to come." His fingers gently yanked the braid, tilting Duo's head back; the Elf let a slow, sly smile cross his face._

_"Well, I am Shinigami, the greatest bard to grace the Fey in three hundred years; a Colony prince can't have anything less at his majority. And, I guess you're as big a reason and song as I'll ever get."_

_"Hn." Heero met him halfway their second try, fingers hopelessly tangled within the braid he couldn't leave even if he wanted to. And with that, the scene washed away, leaving Quatre, who had a small smile on his face, sitting alone. _

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Duo sat up awake in his sleep halfway across Taurus, rubbing a hand over his face and trying to figure out how, after reliving a series of his favorite memories of Heero, he had seen Quatre smiling at them before he woke up. He frowned in the dark, a hand going to his braid and fiddling with the end of it, slightly unsettled by the power the kid seemed to have, falling into others' dreams after only recently meeting them…it was almost unheard of. Or, at least, unheard of for most Empaths…he grinned ruefully for a moment. He sighed and flopped back onto his pillow, knowing that he wouldn't be getting back to sleep anytime soon.

"Well, well, Blondie, who would have guessed you had it in you."

Duo chuckled under his breath and closed his eyes, already envisioning just how exciting his next two months were going to be. At the very least, he was in for an interesting; Quatre had some things to answer for and it was time for Heero to quit keeping him in the dark.

"Well, Illrea, I'll try to do you some justice."

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_While he hadn't felt right watching a scene that was so private and precious, Quatre missed the warmth that had been shared between the two before, even if it had been a somewhat painful reminder of what he didn't have due to his own doubt and weakness. All that was left now was a gaping loneliness that made his skin itch unpleasantly. He pushed up off the ground and stood, taking in the murky surroundings slowly. He didn't know why he was still stuck in the dream, because apparently whoever was dreaming of his memories had stopped, but the longer he stood there, the more discomforted he felt. The copper pendant against his chest was hot on his skin and seemed to be the only pinprick of light within the dark space._

_"Quatre?" _

_The blond whirled around, legs crouched in a defensive stance should the dream take an unpleasant turn. However, Quatre felt himself relax and breath out a shaky but happy breath as the blind-folded face of Trowa filled his sight. He looked more or less the same from the last time he had seen him, almost two months ago. He was dressed in a loose tunic and soft, leather trousers that hugged his lean, tall body, cinnamon hair falling over one side of his face, shadowy blind fold covering his eyes. Quatre's breath caught in his throat and this time, he didn't hesitate or shy away from the tall prince, but rather launched himself into strong arms that smelled like pine and sandalwood. He had waited for this to happen since the first time, but it never had…he wasn't going to waste whatever time he had with Trowa this time._

_"Trowa."_

_"Cat, what's the matter, you seem upset. Are you all right?" Quatre could feel the cool, calming presence Trowa always exuded was mixed with warm concern that made Quatre spine tingle. "You're shaking—is you're empathy bothering you?"_

_"I've just missed you is all." Quatre let his hold relax slowly, sliding his hands up Trowa's back, letting one hand come around and rest against his heart while the other cupped the back of his neck. He smiled as wide as he could before pressing his lips to the still concerned looking prince; he could have cried, in all honesty and male pride be damned, but he settled for smiling again, feeling his teeth brush against Trowa's lips._

_"Missed me? I only left for the chess set." Quatre pulled away a bit more and looked into Trowa's covered eyes, and around them. He sighed, taking in the familiar setting of Trowa's bedchambers, resting his forehead against Trowa's neck, inhaling him deep into his lungs._

_"No, muHibb, it's been much longer. Neither of us are home and this is—it's real but not, I think. Sorry, it's all still so confusing to me." He placed his palms against Trowa's cheeks and tried to pierce the dark band that covered dark green eyes. "Remember, we've met here once before, you pushed me out because you could feel Dorothy coming."_

_Trowa went still and Quatre could feel the shock radiate off his skin. "How do you know—?"_

_Trowa stopped and, as if a floodgate had been opened, Quatre felt him become aware of where they were and where he really was. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Trowa's pulse point, breathing in time to the beats he felt there. Trowa's arms tightened after a few minutes and Quatre raised his head, smiling sadly at Trowa and drank in the pure warmth he felt trickle down from Trowa, letting it fill the cold hole he, for so long, had tried to ignore. Trowa took in a shuddering breath as he wrapped the blond even tighter to him, as if he was trying to squash any space or air that separated their souls and Quatre felt a nose bury in his hair._

_"How?"_

_"The pendant, remember…you saw it last time and suddenly remembered everything…Heero thinks it's what lets me do this when I dream, sometimes at least. I never got a chance to tell you, but Sandrock gave it to me, when she gave me help to try and find you."_

_"Quatre, I don't want you to try and find me! I can't—Dorothy is—"_

_"I'm well aware," Quatre interrupted. "She already knows all about me, can't say that she's my biggest fan." He looked down and focused on the hand that was still resting against Trowa's heart. "Did you always know, about who I am, or did you just figure it out as time went on?"_

_Trowa was silent, and in this small dreamscape, Quatre had no doubt Trowa knew what he was talking about. "I wasn't sure not really, and I didn't want—you were already adjusting; I thought telling you I thought you were a long-lost heir to an influential Colony kingdom might be a little much."_

_Quatre laughed softly and tilted his head back, focusing ocean blue on the dark band. "I suppose not. Still, making a long-lost heir of a kingdom the sorceress who cursed you tried to destroy your fiancé probably wasn't the best choice."_

_"…you're well-informed. How much do you know?"_

_"Well, probably everything that you do. Kind of had to…Heero doesn't know that I know about being Illrea's great-great something grandson, but I'm going to tell him soon." _

_"And…you are the heir?"_

_"Seeing as Sandrock kind of told me, yeah, I'd say I am."_

_"You're not as surprised as I would expect."_

_"I've had a month to come to terms with it, and with the fact that Dorothy would like nothing more than to see my corpse on fire for more than being your fiancé." Quatre thought briefly of telling him about Treize and the suspicions Heero had regarding him and what his role was with the events surrounding them, but decided against it. Maybe another time, he didn't want to make Trowa worry more than he already was. Quatre would worry for the both of them, he wasn't the one taken hostage by a vindictive Troll princess. He could handle it._

_"This is why I don't want you to look for me."_

_"I know, but that's why I have to. Please, I can't—" He didn't finish, he couldn't. Trowa didn't really seem to need the end of the sentence, able to discover the words on his own and his hands grazed up and down his back gently. _

_"So…how did you get here?"_

_"I guess we're dreaming similar, feeling something similar." Quatre paused and fished out the copper pendant from under his loose tunic, bringing it up for Trowa to examine. "Sandrock told me that the closer I got to you, the more powerful I could feel your emotions. Like a compass."_

_Trowa held the pendant in his fingers and gazed at it, his expression telling Quatre there were so many other questions he had, so many other things he wanted to know, wanted to warn against. But, instead, he tucked the pendant back under Quatre's tunic, his fingers lingering on the skin for a moment longer than needed and reached up to cradle the blond's face in his hands, angling Quatre's face upwards, their lips a breath away from each other. "It's not your fault, Cat, you know that right?"_

_Quatre didn't answer. It _was_ his fault, no matter what Trowa said, but if he said that, Trowa would just try to insist, further wasting the time they had with each other. So, he didn't say anything, just tugged Trowa's face down and pressed their lips together hard, inhaling through his nose and his tongue darting out, coaxing Trowa's lips to part. It didn't take a lot of convincing, Trowa responding with equal fervor, tongue plunging in to Quatre's mouth, a hand weaving through the blond hair and tilting Quatre's head back further, deepening their connection into something needy and desperate. Quatre gripped Trowa's hip, pulling them closer together, and gasped out when their erections rubbed together, Trowa muttering a low sound as his lips drifted down and latched onto the pale neck like a leech. Quatre felt his vision blurring, his skin heating up as his own pulsating need and arousal mixed with Trowa's, sinuously wrapping around his muscles and coiling in his stomach and groin._

_There wasn't any slow seduction at play, no teasing touches, fleeting puffs of hot air on overly sensitive skin, or coy advances, both knew that they didn't have time for that, that the dream could end any second, that the sun would inevitably rise whether they were ready or not. Quatre was methodically removing clothing as Trowa pushed him into a wall for support, breaking apart from each other to pull the tunic over his arms and head, a whisper of fabric in the wake of their own music. His hands shook as they immediately went to work unlacing Trowa's pants, throwing head back against the cold bricks of the wall as a whimper escaped past his throat and out his mouth when Trowa rolled his hips slow and hard. Trowa pulled away, which made Quatre groan impatiently, and in one fluid motion, undid Quatre's loose leathers and stripped them off with his underwear. Immediately, he pushed him back into the wall, one hand under Quatre's leg and drawing it up, his own pants slipping down his hips and legs so their bare erections touched, sending a wave of heat and pleasure down Quatre's spine, his hands flying above his head as Trowa's crashed against his again, searching for purchase as knee-weakening heat rolled through him when their hips set up a rhythm, slippery and wet with precum._

_Quatre lost track of how long they continued, hips rocking in a torturously slow motion, but eventually the haze cleared enough for Quatre to decide it wasn't enough, he wanted more, he needed more. He pulled away, chest heaving as he tried to rapidly inhale air for his feverish body, hands traveling from various places on Trowa's skin to rest against his bare chest and push him away, creating a sliver of space between them. Trowa groaned deep in his throat, not pleased with the sudden change, but apart from that did as he was directed. Quatre looked up with glazed blue eyes, dark as a stormy ocean, wishing he could see the dilated green irises behind the band, sliding his leg back down to the floor. He smiled at Trowa, slow and easy, before turning around in his arms. He braced his forearms against the brick wall, which he noticed no longer looked like Trowa's bedchambers but whatever his prison looked like, and tossed his sweaty hair of his forehead._

_"MuHibb…don't go slow."_

_Trowa didn't verbally respond with words, his breath hitching as he pressed his chest to Quatre's back and the sweaty tunic the blond was still wearing, but Quatre felt a wave of desire, warmth and love wash over him, giving him all the answer he needed. He hummed in approval when Trowa rubbed up and down his arousal smearing his hands and fingers and let out a low moan when he felt himself being stretched, ignoring the obvious sting that was bound to develop from being celibate for almost three months. He felt detached from everything apart from Trowa and the growing pool of heat between them, his body shuddering time with Trowa's fingers shallowly thrusting in and out. Trowa's lips attached to his neck again, silently asking if Quatre was ready, if he wanted more; Quatre nodded, breath coming out in pants. Trowa didn't waste another moment, withdrawing his fingers, lining up, and driving in without pause, letting out a low moan as he did so. Quatre's back arched in a bow-like shape, head falling back onto Trowa's shoulder and mouth open in a silent scream._

_Trowa didn't move at first, waiting for some kind of approval or sign that Quatre was fine, but the blond didn't want to wait. He didn't care if it hurt as much as it felt good; he just wanted to feel Trowa while he had a chance to, in a dream that felt so real he wasn't entirely convinced it wasn't. He flexed his back, moving off of Trowa before slamming back, drawing out another low moan from Trowa. He smiled around his heavy groans and cries; the blond was aware he was the more vocal between the two in sex, which he was fine with as Quatre felt all the noises anyway, but whenever he could draw out a desperate sound like that, he felt a swell of pride. _

_Trowa pressed even closer as he pulled out and slammed back in again, one hand wrapping around Quatre's torso and grabbing hold of the blond's erection while the other reached underneath a pale knee and drew it up, letting him thrust into Quatre even deeper. The slender blond cried out and reached his hands back, looking for something to grab when he felt Trowa hit his prostate, blinding white filling his vision and empathy, hands hooking around the tall prince's neck and hip, drawing him closer, deeper, harder. Lips traveled up and down his neck, coming to rest on the shell of an ear, Trowa whispering and gasping words that Quatre couldn't hear beyond the feeling of pain and pleasure swell within him. _

_It felt impossibly fast and hot, like they could both spontaneously combust if they continued at their pace, but Quatre was beyond caring, and Trowa was too, if his continued pounding was any indication. All too fast, Quatre felt the rush to completion, every nerve in his body attuned to the fiery combination of him and Trowa, and with a few more strokes and thrusts from Trowa, it was over, all let out of him in a cry that sounded dangerously close to a sob and a flash of darkness that swam over his vision. He felt Trowa drive a few more thrusts in before he let out a desperate sound of his own mixed with words that, even though Quatre hadn't heard in three months, recognized and loved._

"_Je t'aime, Quatre, je t'aime plus que la vie…"_

"_I love you too, muHibb, more than life itself."_

_They slid down to the floor cautiously, Trowa staying inside Quatre until his back was to the wall and Quatre rested in between his legs, both sprawled boneless on the floor. Quatre let out a pained wince and grunt as he felt the consequence of going as fast and hard as they had, but he didn't mind it. The pendant on his chest was glowing copper underneath his damp tunic, Trowa's hand that wasn't stroking up and down Quatre's body in a gentle motion, cradled Quatre across his torso and pulled out the pendant, balancing it in his palm. Quatre felt a pair of lips press against his temple before a face was buried in his messy and wild blond hair, chaotically messed up from sweat and tugging._

"_I'm going to find you, Trowa."_

_Trowa sighed into blond hair and tightened his arms. "I know you will. But I wish you wouldn't."_

_Quatre laughed softly and turned in Trowa's arms, pressing his lips to Trowa's again chastely. He reached up and combed through the tall prince's cinnamon brown bangs, imagining the green of his eyes even though the band covered them completely. "Well, that may be but I'm just not all right with my fiancé marrying a Troll."_

_Trowa let a small smile flit across his face in agreement before he touched his forehead to Quatre's. "You'll probably wake up soon."_

"_Probably. I didn't—let's try to meet like this again…it'll help me through the day if I know I can see you at night. If thinking the same thing or feeling the same thing is what does it, just think about how much you miss me, and I'll do the same."_

_Trowa just hummed in reply, a deep reverberation that Quatre felt ripple into his skin. "Won't be too hard."_

"_That's the idea." Quatre sighed sadly and pressed their lips together once more. He could feel the dreamscape start to shift, could feel himself start to fade. He swallowed down an angry denial that he wanted to shout out, that it wasn't fair he had to leave Trowa, but all that escaped was a tremble and a shaky breath. He could feel Trowa's reluctance, could feel his awareness shift as well, but he clung to him as long as he could, until…_

…until he opened his eyes and was left clinging to the extra blankets, alone in his bed at the inn in the grey light of the early morning.

Quatre sat up, hands shaking as he pushed the blankets away, not looking at Nix, who was up and watching him carefully. He looked over at a still sleeping Heero for a second, happy that he hadn't woke him up this time, and then down at himself. Sure enough, his pants were sticky and uncomfortable, but when he moved to stand up and grab another pair to change into, pain lanced up his lower back and thighs. That…was unexpected. Gingerly, he winced and got to his feet, walking slowly and in measured steps to the washroom, snatching a pair of pants on his way. Once changed and washed enough for the day, he carefully sat back down, hands clenched tight and resting on his legs. His eyes were blurry and he spared Nix a small smile when the little cat purred deep in sympathy for him.

Even if it was a dream, it was real. That had been Trowa who kissed him, held him, pushed into him…as if he was with him right now. The whole time, the dreamscape was real; it was Trowa there, it was history that truly was unfolding in front of him, and it was really Dorothy who could have killed him then and there. It had been a dream, but it was real too, and that was so much more painful. Making sure to keep quiet, Quatre curled his legs to his chest as much as he could without pain and buried his face in his knees, pouring everything out so that when Heero woke up in another hour or so, he could make it through the day alone.

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Ok, next chapter...I had a good helping of angst those last few paragraphs, didn't I? And a smutty scene for all you patienet folks...and, funny thing, I was writing this chapter at work and when I did the lemon, I kept thinking to myself 'writing gay porn in a retirement office...I'm so going to hell.' Haha, made me laugh.

So, hope you all enjoyed! Sorry it took so long, for explanation, see my LJ under homepage. Review!!! Feed my starving muses so they can write more sex! Cheers.

Osco


	12. Chapter 12

Candlelight (12/?)

Author: Osco

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xS

Rating: R

Warnings: Lemony goodness, violence, language, magical happenings, and ugly Trolls attempting to ruin the story!

Summary: Retelling of the fairy tale, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" GW style. What if you made a mistake? What if the person you loved had to pay the price? How far would you go to save him? How about a place that can't exist?

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I am but a poor college student who has no hold over the characters whatsoever and is doing this as a pastime.

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**Chapter Twelve: **_**Three Old Witches**_

Shoulders squared and face carefully composed, Quatre made his way down the stairs of the inn later that morning, all thoughts of dreams, memories, and reality pushed firmly to the back of his mind. He felt exhausted and was sure he probably looked no better, but with a little luck and strategic placement of his blond hair, no one would notice the bags under his blue eyes. Nix trailed behind him, strangely silent, but otherwise alert, ears flicking back and forth in time with his tail. Heero, unsurprisingly, was already awake and analyzing a series of maps, barely touching the plate of food to his left. Duo was also awake, but he was shoveling food into his mouth faster than Quatre thought healthy, chatting animatedly with the various barmaids and innkeeper at the bar. Quatre felt a smile tug at his lips at the sight; you could not find a more dissimilar pair but even so, Quatre could feel the completeness each formed with the other. If they hadn't been so studiously ignoring one another, Quatre imagined they would have created quite the domestic picture of morning, married bliss.

Quatre returned Heero's nod with a smile as he took a seat at the table, reaching for one of the pieces of toast left to go cold and nibbling on it, looking more for something to do rather than to satisfy hunger. Duo, noticing that he would no longer have to sit alone with Heero, offered a series of effusive thanks and goodbyes and took a seat beside Quatre.

"So, think if we leave Heero here with his little maps and notations he'd notice? Maybe if I took one…"

"Omae o korosu." Quatre didn't know what Heero said, but he knew it wasn't a warm morning greeting.

"Always with the pleasantries! Better watch out, He-chan, people will start to think that beneath that gruff exterior is just a cuddly prince, waiting for a hug."

"You said you knew people who would know where Trowa is," Quatre interrupted. He could see death glaring from Heero's eyes, and the playful unconcern in Duo's did not bode well for the inn.

"Well, Blondie, I said I knew people who _might_ know where the witch took Tro. I'm wondering though, 'east of the sun and west of the moon,' do you think the phrase is referring to a landmark or a specific place, like a kingdom? Might help narrow down a search radius…"

"Well, I don't really—"

"It could be either, Sandrock was not specific, nor was Trowa." Heero did not glance up from his maps so he missed the annoyed look Duo shot him. Quatre could already feel a headache building as he worked to keep their feelings from his own.

"And the best bet we have for a general direction is Q's pendant?" Duo's inquisitive violet eyes fixed on the dull, copper pendant hanging outside Quatre's tunic.

"Sandrock told me I would feel Trowa's emotions more clearly the closer we get to him. Before, it was kind of white noise, not really focusable, but lately…"

"Yes?"

Quatre could feel heat as he thought back to the previous night. "It's definitely stronger. I can feel him on a near constant basis."

"What do you feel?" The question was not invasive, Quatre knew, merely curious, but it stirred up something funny when he thought about answering, as if it was too private. He was about to evade the question, but Heero's eyes were on him now as well, suggesting that this was pertinent to their search.

Quatre opened his mouth to answer, but hesitated. He placed a few fingers around the pendant and thought back to when he did try to feel Trowa through the pendant. He couldn't feel Trowa like he could Heero and Duo, whose emotions were so bright and near to him it was unthinkable they'd be anything different. He knew he felt those he cared for better…so why didn't Trowa's emotions come through the pendant? He had never really thought about it until now, just kind of plowed ahead in the direction he felt was the right one and followed Nix's paths…it was true that whatever he felt through the pendant was stronger, but not in the way he thought it would mean. There was no question that who he was feeling was Trowa, but he felt nothing more specific than that, almost as if what he was sensing was a presence, a whole being, that was growing steadily larger within his own conscience. He glanced down at Nix and his omniscient blue eyes, which were watching him with candid awareness and looked back up at waiting violet eyes.

"Well—I…I don't really know. I just feel him, I suppose, nothing specific just…just Trowa."

"Huh." Duo shot Heero a look before he smiled and stood up. "Well, we're not going to find him sitting around here yapping away, or in He-chan's case coloring, are we?"

Heero's frown became more pronounced and he clenched his fists before he rolled up his maps and stomped off (Quatre presumed to pack), muttering darkly in an unfamiliar language. Quatre shot an exasperated look at the chuckling Duo, scooting back from the table and letting Nix hop up to finish up their breakfast. "Do you really have to wind him up? It makes him impossible."

"Nah, it doesn't. It's good for him; he just doesn't know it. That boy's always needed someone looking out for him, making sure he doesn't become a robot…but I suppose you already know that, uh?"

Quatre paused in his step and looked back at the insufferable knowing smile playing across Duo's handsome face, a feeling of sick dread and embarrassment beginning to grow in his stomach. So much for pretending he hadn't inadvertently spied on the Elf's memories. "You—you saw that I was there?"

Duo smiled all the wider. "Kind of hard not to, you've got a shit load of power bottled up in that head of yours, but not a lot of skill in using it subtlety." Duo rose from his chair, not a look of anger or uncertainty in his expression, just that friendly acceptance. "I'm not mad you saw all of that, my little trip down memory lane, so you can quit worrying about it. I'm mainly surprised you saw anything at all…empathy is powerful and you can do a lot with it, but being so in tune with another's emotions it gives you access to their memories and dreams…that's pretty rare. In fact, I know of only one line of Empaths that could do that, and I've been around the Fey for awhile."

He knew. Quatre wasn't sure how to respond, so he didn't. He sat back down and stared at the tabletop, ignoring the loud munching noises Nix was making as he ate. He knew that Duo was supposed to help, and in all honesty, Quatre sensed nothing malicious or dark within the Elf, but he knew him for barely twelve hours. Yes, Heero had known him for years, and Quatre doubted Nix would let anyone untrustworthy join their journey…but Quatre had trusted Treize to a point…

"But, I think you already knew that." Duo was still smiling, but it was less playful, more human. "I, contrary to popular belief, can hold a civil conversation with Prince of Grunts upstairs; he filled me in on a lot of the suspicions you both have about Treize and his involvement with Dorothy. I'm not going to go running across the countryside singing your tale for all to hear."

Quatre looked up and smiled at the rueful grin. "Well, not yet at least. I promise to wait until all dangers have passed! A good story needs an ending, after all."

"Heero doesn't know I know." Quatre sighed and rubbed at his temples; he really needed to start getting more sleep. "I overheard him and Sylvia talking…and then I was having surreal dreams where I watched a kingdom burned and Sandrock showed up and told me everything. I haven't really digested it yet, I mean, I need to find Trowa first and somehow stop a Troll take-over and…"

Quatre trailed off with a listless shrug, his eyes unfocused on the table. It was an awful lot he had to do, really, before he could start to properly digest that he was descended from a powerful, royal and Fey family. He pushed it all to the back of his mind, like he was doing so often these days, and gave Duo's now concerned look what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He didn't need that concern, Trowa did…he was the one all lined up to marry a Troll princess in thirty-seven days. It put other troubles in perspective really.

"It's okay, you know. If you don't really want to take up the mantle of being a Fey prince, I mean. Quattuon, from what I hear, gets along just fine with its Maguanac council. I think they'd just be happy to hear that the family isn't dead…don't you have sisters? Heero said it was some obscene amount…"

Quatre chuckled. "I do, but only three fully related. The rest are from my father's previous marriage. He—" Quatre felt words choke in his throat, thinking about his father, but he swallowed the moment down. "My father really loved her, my mother. I never knew her but my sisters all said that she was beautiful. Compassionate. She had empathy too…Iria says I look like her in ways."

"Do you think she knew?" Duo, Quatre was coming to realize, was a never-ending well of questions. He felt his smile widen.

"Maybe, I don't know. She never told my father that's for sure but…she had a lot of odd acquaintances for not being from a well known Arrabanian family. Like my Uncle Hamir. I guess he was from the Fey…I saw him in a dream, in Quattuon."

Quatre shrugged and smiled in a manner that hopefully told the Elf he really didn't want to talk about this anymore. He had to focus on Trowa, had to…everything else just didn't matter right now. "So, where are we heading? Your friends, do they live here?"

Duo raised his eyebrow but otherwise didn't point out the change of topic. "Once his royal Highness gets finished rolling up the maps and treating them like gold, we're headed to the South Quarter. Seedy side of town, but that's where you always find the best stuff and people!"

Quatre nodded and walked back upstairs to pack himself, albeit in a much more haphazard manner, Nix trailing behind him.

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Calling the South Quarter seedy had not been an exaggeration, Quatre decided with a slight wrinkle of his nose, carefully stepping around a rather suspicious puddle.

After hastily dressing and packing, in true contrast to Heero's methodical efficiency, Duo had guided them through Taurus with the knowledge of someone who knew the city like the back of his hand. He was constantly talking, which became slightly wearing after the first hour and a half, and would often chat out to random Elves, Dwarves, and Humans who passed by, jabbering in all different tongues and sounds. As Quatre followed Duo and further into the city, past many of the nicer buildings and deeper into dark and dank alleyways, he felt an unease build, but tried to not let it show. Heero did not look concerned (although, Heero never really looked much of anything if we're honest) and Duo kept reassuring that he knew where he was going. Still…Quatre had lived most of his life in a country that was mostly composed of open air towns that had a generally clean feeling to them. Taurus was proving to be a bit too large and crowded for his liking.

Nix let out another yowl of unmistakable disgust, his nose twitching unpleasantly. Quatre smiled; at least he had one on his side who agreed with him.

"Not too much farther, I think…where did that old geezer move to? Paranoid idiot…" Quatre was not heartened by Duo's mumblings.

Just as they passed a very decrepit looking building, Duo stopped and squinted up at the dirty windows. Quatre looked over at Heero, who was still staring impassively at any spot that wasn't the effusive Elf, and asked who they were even looking for. He had missed that part, and while it hadn't seemed important before, the oppressive alleyways of the South Quarter made it seem ludicrously so.

"Probably G. He has connections with all sorts of smugglers; it's possible they'd have dealt with some Troll recently, might give us an idea of where to head."

"G?" Quatre paused before he asked the inevitable, dread curdling in his stomach. "I'm guessing he knows Professor J…?"

"Affirmative." Great, another one. Quatre felt another headache start to bloom behind his temples.

Duo shouted up at the windows, using a language that Quatre did not understand, one that had slight lilt to it, and surprisingly, a muffled curse answered. Quatre could not really know if it was a curse, but it sounded like one, and Duo's pout was telling. Duo shouted again, this time gesturing at all of his companions, emphasizing little Nix, who had abandoned his tabby-cat disguise and was sitting in all his coppery-silver glory, deep blue eyes staring up at the windows. There was a moment of silence, Duo still in his gesturing, Nix in his staring, and the house itself before, after a few audible crashes, the ravaged door of the dilapidated building swung open.

The hair was the giveaway, really. The man, most definitely Human, was stooped, as if age had approached too rapidly when it should not have and robbed as much as it could, standing a little shorter than Quatre. He was draped in a ratty looking coat and had the distinct look of someone who really didn't believe in bathing. But all of this was secondary to the hair that sprouted from the top of his head much like the top of a mushroom, the rather large nose, and the shrewd eyes peeking at all of them. Quatre had seen this man, although he had looked quite a bit nicer than he did now; he had seen him through Duo's memories, talking with J. This man, at one point, had been Duo's mentor or guardian…something; it was hard to believe looking at him now.

"Well, you got my attention, you noisy brat! Banging on my door, hollering so loud you'd wake the dead, you're lucky I didn't chuck anything at your empty head." G's voice was nasally, but sharp; Quatre knew this man could probably trade insults with viciousness.

"Shouldn't you be a bit nicer? I did bring company; what would they think of your manners?"

"Ah yes, more whelps, just what I need. And J's boy wouldn't know manners if it hit him on the head, what do I care about mine?"

"G, this is not a social visit." Heero was frowning, but otherwise his voice showed no other inflection of his mood. Although, Quatre could guess it wasn't at its best; no one would appreciate having their manner mocked by a cantankerous old man.

"I'd gathered that much, boy. Still doesn't mean I give a damn. And if J sent you to ask me to help out in another of his hair-brained experiments, you can kindly tell him I enjoy having all my limbs and that just because he's a halfwit doesn't mean I want to join him in his idiocy."

"We're here because you might know where I need to go." Quatre stepped forward, drawing attention solely on him and stopping any retorts, or swords, that may have replied. "I need to find a place that I have no name for or knowledge of, a place that I only know is east of the sun and west of the moon and that Trolls would be there."

Quatre waited under the calculating gaze before the mushroom-haired man grinned, showing crooked teeth. "Oh, is that all? And after that I suppose you want to learn how to breathe underwater and hunt for the lost ruins of Pisces? Duo, I didn't know you took simpletons into your retinue now."

Blue eyes narrowed. "I'm not from the Fey, so your reference for my being simple is an empty insult towards me. If you don't know, simply tell me and I'll find someone who does. I don't have time to waste on you and your bitterness towards all things breathing."

Quatre could feel the curt surprise and indignation, and a part of him felt guilty for lashing out his own tiredness and irritation at a man who had nothing to do with it, but it was small and hardly allowed to breathe. Duo might not have concept of time or being in a hurry, but Quatre did, and he wasn't going to waste the 37th blossom if he didn't have to. He could hear Duo trying to diffuse the situation, calm his obviously angered mentor, but his blue eyes did not waver and he tightened his grip on his staff when he felt a sliver of realization and slight surprise, this one not indignant, slip into him.

"Which one sent you?" G's voice was still carrying a hint of anger but it was overshadowed by resignation. Quatre didn't need to ask who he was asking after.

"Sandrock."

"Trowa's curses have activated. We're on a mission to save him. This is Quatre, his fiancé; I know you've heard about him so don't pretend you haven't." Heero spoke with quiet efficiency, eyes hard and glaring.

Duo then launched into the story about Trowa and Quatre and the spells, the Trolls and Dorothy, the possible involvement of Treize, and the threat poised against the Fey, picking up that Quatre had no interest in telling it again, letting G interject when he wanted and letting Heero answer when necessary. Wisely, the bard left out any mention of Quatre being the long-lost prince of Quattuon and his own empathic abilities. When Duo was finished and G's pointed questions satisfied, he looked back into Quatre's stare, still radiating standoffishness but no longer angry, no longer unwilling.

"This all true, boy? You've spoken with Sandrock, recruited these two based on an Areenjan's insistence and a Seer's advisement, and are on a mission to save all of Fey, along with your lost prince?"

Quatre nodded. "Can you help me or not?"

"I have no idea where someplace you're asking about can exist." Quatre would have felt disappointment, but to be honest, he'd been expecting this answer; all that was left for him to feel was weary resignation. "But, what I can tell you is that Trolls are operating with so-called 'discreet' merchants in the port city of Ares. Don't know if they're the Trolls you're looking for, but what they're dealing with are weapons. So many that a clever merchant would assume they were readying an invasion of some sort. But, Ares folk have always been as moronic as they are greedy. If you had any sense, that's where you would to, even if it is a fool's errand to go against armed Trolls."

Ares. Finally, he had a direction, someplace to head, someplace that had compelling evidence that Trolls involved with Dorothy were located there. Of where Trowa could be, not just another hint or person who may know where he needed to head next or give some obscure answer. It wasn't great, it wasn't perfect, and it was very likely that it could be mistaken, but it was the best lead Quatre had received since Sandrock had told him to head towards Sive, all those weeks ago. He focused, briefly, on the pendant, on the pulse of Trowa within; it would get stronger if he headed to Ares, it had to.

"Thank you." He nodded at G who was still looking at him in that calculating manner.

"If you find S, you can tell him to steer clear of me as well. Those old fools all stuck close to their Families and look at them now! I'm well shot of them."

Nix growled deep in his throat and hissed at G, which was surprisingly intimidating considering his size. Quatre looked down, startled, at Nix; only in his dream with Dorothy had Nix shown such open hostility. G, to his credit, did not appear as fazed as Quatre knew him to be.

"And _you_ can tell your Ladies that I did my duty. I want no more part in this mess."

"You won't have choice, will ya, if we fail." Duo smiled but he looked more than annoyed at his mentor's behavior. G gave no more a response than a smack across the top of Duo's head shuffling back to his rotting door.

Duo shrugged his shoulders in a sheepish manner and the three of them, Nix trailing after delivering one last growl, all blue eyes narrowed and threatening; his tail wrapped around Quatre's leg as he trotted next to him. "Man, he just keeps getting worse and worse. Sorry guys, G never used to be such an ass. I don't think aging agrees with him…"

Heero grunted but did nothing else. Quatre nodded and opened his mouth to apologize for losing his temper, even if he didn't feel like it was completely necessary in this case, when G shouted after them.

"I know what you are, boy. You better hope that _she_ doesn't if you enjoy the light of the living."

Duo and Heero shot each other a rare look before ushering Quatre away, Heero mumbling in what could be a comforting tone for him that G didn't know what he was talking about and Duo going on about how he was just being vindictive and spiteful; the blond sighed and closed his eyes.

_Too late._

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The addition of Duo to their small group proved a welcome distraction, as he was utterly fascinated with Quatre and his homeland having never traveled outside the Fey, as well as an useful companion, as he knew the Fey lands very well. After traveling with only Heero, who preferred to not waste words if he could help it, and Nix, who while quite comforting couldn't speak in any normal way, it was nice to have someone to talk to. Quatre had never done well with solitude and he had never really been confronted with it before; it was hard to interact with two beings who thrived on it, as much as Quatre liked Heero and Nix. Duo's affable and playful nature grew on Quatre as they made their way out of Taurus lands and towards Ares.

Quatre remembered Sally's words from months ago, that everyone liked Duo, even Wufei, and that Quatre would to should he ever meet him. He smiled sadly at the truth of the Healer's words, wishing she was here to point out how clever she was.

"…and then Marcus is singing an ode, a _freaking ode_, to the Ogre, so drunk on that damn fairy wine to tell that his 'beloved' is actually a seven foot brute, drooling all over him! After that, I swore off traveling minstrel groups. I wish I could say _that_ was the worst of what they would do, but it'd be a lie, and I don't lie; besides, I don't want to scar your virgin mind."

Duo waggled his eyebrows and Quatre felt himself chuckling, despite Heero's obvious annoyance at the stories Duo kept telling. "And I thank you for that since I'm sure you were more than just an innocent observer."

Duo did nothing but grin shamelessly at Quatre's teasing; Heero frowned, apparently not amused at the direction of the conversation, even if he wasn't participating. Quatre gave him a knowing look before he let him stew in his own musings. Quatre had managed a good set of blocks and shields that kept nearly every hectic emotion between the two out of his head; all he had to do was focus on the pendant, focus on the muted impression of Trowa, and let his own emotions surrounding Trowa serve as his focal point. He wasn't about to stick his head in _that_ all over again; he felt loads better now that he had discovered this trick, happy to be able to focus on his own emotions and not have to deal with their tumultuous affair.

Being away from Taurus helped as well, but as Duo loved his city down to the last cobblestone, Quatre kept that to himself.

"Did any minstrel bands visit Arabaan?" Duo stretched his arms back over his head, looking over at Quatre with an earnestly curious expression, his braid dangling behind him as he walked. Quatre shrugged his shoulders.

"Maybe…I don't really know. My village wasn't the biggest in my country, and I kind of lived on the outskirts. I remember traveling Gypsy troops more, sometimes they played music but mostly they performed magic and tricks."

"Magic?"

"Well, magic tricks. Illusions really, to look like things disappeared or making things appear, like colorful sashes or birds. Sometimes the tricks were really well done."

"We've got Gypsy troops in the Fey too. But they make the night come alive with lights and fire dance, no make-believe tricks." Quatre smiled at Duo's nostalgic expression, wishing he could someday see what made the child-like wonder appear on the Elf's face, who had apparently lived for at least a few centuries. He mentally encouraged that kind of thinking, determination flowing through him again; he'd see the Fey Gypsies perform with Trowa when all of this mess was done with.

They had been traveling for seven days, seven withered blossoms and leaving thirty left to find Trowa, but Duo had been showing them hidden paths, short-cuts and Heero had set a grueling pace. Quatre was exhausted at the end of every day (Heero was apparently used to this kind of daily exercise and Duo's endurance was apparently quite different than a Human's since he still chatted away like normal every night), but he didn't care. If it saved them days, even hours, he'd bear it. According to Duo, they were only five days away from Ares, a lot quicker than Quatre had thought it would take them. Quatre was kind of excited; he had never seen an ocean before.

"So, is Ares as large as Taurus?"

"No. But it is just as dangerous." Heero replied. Duo made a face at him before her turned to answer.

"Danger, smanger, it's not that bad. Sure, not all the traders and taverns are squeaky clean, but what interesting town doesn't have a few bad seeds? I've been there plenty of times, I came back all right!"

"That's a matter of perspective."

"You know, I'd say you made a joke if you weren't such an unemotional prick who wouldn't know the difference."

Heero glared at Duo's sunny expression that contradicted the fiery anger in his violet eyes. "Why waste my breath when you're sure to spew ten in my place?"

"Oh, how original! There's that famous wit you're so well known throughout the Fey for having."

"Hn."

"I'm sorry, I don't speak Sociopath!"

Quatre took one look at them before he deliberately let himself fall behind, feeling awkward enough listening to them belittle each other; he didn't need to see how each looked ready to tackle the other as well. He felt a flush creep across his face as his mind provided rather graphic detail of them both…engaged…and he groaned in frustration. Great, as if having midnight dream trysts that were only half real with Trowa wasn't bad enough, now he was going to have to deal with violent sexual tension between his two friends. Fantastic. He rubbed at his face, trying to get rid of the redness, and trying to block out the continuing argument he could hear ahead of him, but then he was jerked to a stop.

"Nix?" Quatre looked down at the little Desert Cat and his fluffy tail which was wrapped around the blond's leg, iron and unmoving. The all blue eyes fixed on Quatre's and Nix let out a deep purr, motioning to the left with his head, ears flicking against his head.

Quatre looked to the left and noticed a path that led down in to a dense looking forest. The trees were ancient looking and dark green, shading closer to black, and Quatre felt a strange sense of bewilderment staring at the obviously visible and commanding forest; why hadn't he seen that before? The longer he stared at the forest, the stronger he felt it, just like the ancient tree he had first met Sandrock by; that timeless ache, a worldly knowledge and experience that stretched lifetimes. Nix tugged at his leg with his surprisingly strong tail and let out a yip, unmistakable in his intent; he wants Quatre to go through those woods.

Quatre was not pleased; he remembered his last, harrowing encounter with these old Fey trees. Besides, the more he stared at the suddenly appeared forest the more he felt as if it hadn't been visible for a reason. "You've got to be kidding. You want us to go through that?"

Nix yipped, looking pleased his Human charge had caught on so quickly.

"But…that doesn't even look like it's in the right direction! We need to get to Ares as soon as possible…"

Nix growled and fixed his eyes on Quatre's, silently asking why he doubted when Sandrock had asked Nix to act as his guide. And even though Quatre really wanted to argue, protest, stomp his foot and shout that he wasn't going to go into that damn forest, he knew that if he was going to find Trowa, he was going to have to heed Sandrock's guidance…even if it seemed completely stupid to do so. He sighed and gave Nix's once-again pleased face a scowl before he turned and called out to the still arguing pair ahead of him. He rested his weight against the black staff and gave a shrug and motion towards the forest to the two pairs of aggravated eyes looking at him.

"We have to make a detour." Quatre shouted. He motioned to Nix and again to the forest, not wanting any of the blame for this unwelcome sidetrack. Both stared at him and the forest for a moment, confusion crossing Duo's face openly while Heero's brows furrowed.

"Through a creepy forest that wasn't there five minutes ago?"

"I have no record of a forest of this size being in this area, much less anywhere around Ares…"

"…not to mention I've been traveling to Ares by this path for over a hundred years and not once have I ever seen this forest…"

"—not an illusion, but it could be a trap of some sort—"

"—completely wrong direction! And don't you dare say anything about my navigational skills, Yuy, or I swear I'll shove those damn maps straight up your ass!"

Heero paused in his own mutterings to stare at Duo's face, which was a strange mix of utter confusion, slight fear and anger. "I have no reason to say anything against your navigational skills; I trust them completely, you've proven that trust on numerous occasions."

Duo's mouth dropped open like he wanted to say something more but empty air was all that came out before he closed it and looked away, a mulish expression replacing the jumbled angry one. Quatre's shields were strong and working, but he could still feel the stab of frustration and self-recrimination come off of Duo in combination to the stark apprehension coming from all of them. As for whatever Heero was feeling, it was absent from Quatre, and he let out a breath when Duo, realizing what he was doing after a look at Quatre, shut off his mind completely.

"Sorry about that, Q." Duo smiled sheepishly. Quatre wasn't sure how to respond, feeling awkward as he once again was dragged into the Elf's and Heero's private issues. He had never really wished that he didn't have his gift, even in Arabaan where they made him unusual and weird, but he was coming close to it now. It made him feel as if he was intruding on what should be dealt with only the two of them, an unwilling third party that just made everything so much uncomfortable.

"It's—don't worry about it." Allah, even Heero looked away and busied himself with something else, rummaging for another map by the looks of it; that meant it was time to redirect the conversation. "So, into the forest we go?"

Duo gave the aforementioned forest a dark, suspicious look before he blew out a dramatic sigh and gave a small smile as he started marching for the forest. "Well, I've always heard it's not smart to argue with an Areenjan. But, I'm blaming him if we all get eaten."

Heero shrugged and started scanning the forest entrance and surrounding area, getting his bearings. That was as close to a yes that Quatre figured he would get. Sparing one last look at Nix, Quatre adjusted his pack and followed after the other two, sincerely hoping that this detour would help them find Trowa, help them find all of them.

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The forest wasn't as bad as initial thought, Quatre mused to himself what seemed like a few hours later. It was hard to tell how long they'd been following little Nix, but for some reason, that didn't really matter as much as it had at first. Quatre felt great, filled up warm, his empathy drinking in everything from the forest, which was turning out to be more and more aware the longer they walked. He turned his bemused gaze towards Duo, who was having a great time singing and playing among the trees, moving with quickness and balance that could only be attributed to his being an Elf. Even Heero looked relax, eyes not hard and unyielding, but rather wide and inquisitive, taking in everything around them. Quatre didn't mind if they never left this forest, he couldn't remember a time where he had been so…content.

_Really? And here I thought that you had found love, that seems much better than being content._

Quatre scrunched his face in confusion at the intruding voice in his head. Love was nice, but it hurt so much more of the time, it seemed. He had loved his mother without ever meeting her but she hadn't stayed with him. He loved his father and it had hurt terribly when he had been killed. And he loved Trowa…but he had been taken away and love just hurt. Trowa…that was? Searching…oh yes, he was searching for Trowa.

_Don't tell me you forgot. _

Of course not! How could he? He'd spent the last few months traveling all over the Fey, being sore and hungry and lost…

_And you still are, but come now. Is illusion what you really want?_

Quatre's head pounded. No one wanted illusion…but maybe it'd be better if he just accepted it. He had caused so much trouble, so much pain, and really, how could he be expected to save a world from a bunch of Trolls?

_Because you're fighting for someone._

Trowa…

_That's right_

…but…

_No…will you bear it or not?_

For Trowa?

_Yes._

…yes, I would, I will…I love him.

_Then wake up and listen, Quatre, leave the Trees._

…and like he was punched in the gut, Quatre gasped and staggered back, feeling sickly light-headed and drenched, as if he had been awoken from a fever. His legs felt like they couldn't support his weight and his head was pounding...and Nix was staring at him, sitting calmly on a path, ignoring Heero who continued to gaze around him, the expression on his face much stranger to Quatre now that knew better, and the still singing Duo, who was now lying on his back, braiding the end of his long braid in little braids. Quatre leaned heavily against one of the trees, shooting it a startled look before he looked back to Nix.

"Was that you? You were talking to me?"

Nix blinked and cocked his head to the side. _Obviously. _

"Oh, I—I didn't know—have you been able to speak this whole time?"

Nix shook his head. _ Not in your way, but it's a special forest, special powers. _

"Special? I think I'd call it manipulative. Why did you bring us here?" Quatre wiped a still shaking hand across his pale face.

_Listen and learn, I must see if these two have the strength to leave._

"Have the strength? You wouldn't leave them here, right?" Nix did not answer Quatre's near frantic question. He walked away and sat in front of Heero, leaving the blond against his tree. As if he realized what his leaning post was, he jerked away from it, using the black staff to steady his still wobbly legs. He took in a few deep breaths to try and calm his racing mind, not focus on the possibility he'd walk out of this forest alone, but he heard a rustle behind him. He whirled around, almost losing his precarious balance in the process, and saw a young girl, a few years younger than Quatre, running down one of the many winding paths. She turned around, silver eyes that eerily glowed even to where Quatre was, and motioned for him to follow. Quatre did not move, prompting the girl to run back, deep brown hair flying behind her and skid to a stop in front of him. She rolled her eyes and frowned at him.

"When I motion, you follow."

Quatre stayed silent before her, his eyes darting to where the Heero and Duo still were.

"You can't help them, they must help themselves, as you did, and if you want my help, you better follow me, idiot."

Without really knowing why he complied, Quatre followed her, his legs gaining strength with every step he took after her. She slipped her hand into Quatre's and tugged him deeper into the trees, farther away from the others until they stopped in front of a cottage. The girl let go of his hand and stomped over to a small loom, plopping down and waving her hand imperiously for Quatre to follow.

"I need you to help me. I need to finish this but I can't find my needle. Find it."

"What? But I don't know where—"

"You're wasting time, see, already the tapestry is unraveling." And sure enough, it was. And strange enough, the tapestry was fluid and changing, images and places flitting across before being replaced by another…Quatre couldn't seem to stop himself from looking. A pair of fingers snapped in front of his eyes and jolted him back. "Quatre, my needle."

He looked around the outside of the cottage, thought about perhaps inside, but if the girl loomed outside, and had her materials outside, the needle wasn't going to be inside. He really didn't know where to look, but he thought back to his sisters when they had the chance to weave…using a needle to design more complex patterns…sometimes attaching it to the thread itself to mark where they were if they had to pause for a spell. He looked back at the loom; the fabric of the tapestry that was completed bunched on the ground haphazardly and he searched through it, his fingers digging under to look for a loose thread. He found the thread and reached some more, pricking his finger on the lost needle at last, but grinning as he pulled it out from the many folds of the completed tapestry along with the weaving thread. "Here you go."

The girl smirked and took them both out of his hands, silver eyes looking amused. "Clever boy."

She motioned to the ground and began weaving feverishly, using the thread and needle to bind the parts of the tapestry that had unraveled, silent and poised. Quatre took a seat and waited.

"Do you know who I am, Quatre?"

"I think you're one of the Great Ladies." He paused and then continued. "I think you're Wing."

She nodded and Quatre thought her lips quirked upwards just a bit, softening her harsh features. "That I am. Like Sandrock before told you, we cannot aid without first being performed a service, and then our aid must not interact directly with the Fey; it is our restriction."

"So, Nix had us come in here so you could help us?"

"You are correct in heading towards Ares." Quatre felt his heart practically swell with hope and relief at that. "But you will be lost once you arrive if you do not have the necessary tools." And promptly Quatre felt miserable again.

"But, I helped you right? So you can help me…"

"And I will, but first I have a riddle for you, for I have two things to give you and you've performed one service: I am the wings of a bird that are not in the sky, I may swim in the ocean and yet remain dry, what am I?"

Riddles were something Quatre had always had a bit of a knack for when he'd been a child, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd played the game with his sisters. Still, it wasn't like one of the Great Ladies was actually trying to trick him. Wings of a bird that didn't fly…he thought for a moment longer, replaying the words in his mind before he answered, a small smile on his face. "A shadow."

Wing nodded once more and stopped her weaving, rising to her feet. "That I am. The first gift I have for you are words. Trolls cannot abide the sound of music or song, for their own croaks cannot hope to mimic; let Trolls not hear you play your song, boy, lest you ruin your chance before you begin. And second, I give you this. Keep it until the end and it may do you some good."

She handed Quatre a spool or what looked like solid gold thread. He looked it over in his hand before nodding and pocketing it within his tunic. So, some gold thread and advice to not play music around Trolls…well, it was certainly different. The question in Quatre's mind was whether different would translate to useful, but the staff and pendant Sandrock had given him had proved themselves. He would just have to trust the Ladies. "Thank you, Lady Wing."

She nodded and resumed her weaving. "You must find my Sister next, Quatre."

He nodded and made to leave before he felt a question burst from him. "Will Heero and Duo be all right?"

Wing did not pause in her weaving but she did fixate her silver eyes on his teal. "That is up to them. But I'd have faith that they are as strong as yourself."

She nodded to him once more and then turned her attention back to her loom, humming a soft, sad sounding melody under her breath. Knowing that he wasn't going to get anything else out of her, he turned and walked back out of the glade, hearing the sound of looms once more before all was silent. A glance back showed him that Wing and her cottage had disappeared, leaving only a cluster of trees and a whisper. Patting the spool of gold thread once, he made his way back to where Nix was still sitting with Heero and Duo, who now appeared to be asleep. He fixed Nix with an arch look, not at all pleased.

"I'm guessing I have to find the next Great Lay on my own then?"

Nix nodded. _These two are sorting out their issues. This is _your_ task to do, after all._

Quatre nodded and walked past the group, turning around once to silently gesture to the Desert Cat whether or not he was going in the right direction. Nix neither agreed nor disagreed, but as Quatre only saw one path, he figured he didn't have much chance of choosing wrong. He set out, his legs feeling gradually stronger, having to rely on the staff less and less as he trudged through the trees. He looked back periodically, keeping Nix and the motionless pair in sights, until nothing but trees met his gaze. He wasn't sure how long he walked for, but he had a feeling it had been for at least an hour or so when he heard a stream of cursing and banging through a curtain of moss. He pushed through the green film cautiously, looking around before stepping through into a clearing much like Wing's.

However, instead of a quaint cottage and a young girl on the loom, there was a middle-aged woman with bound black hair stomping around, tossing various items into the air, and setting fire to a few piles of wood. Quatre halted, wary to venture any further in case the woman launched a fireball at him. The woman turned around and spotted him of her own accord, and Quatre was struck by how dark the woman's eyes were, and similarly slanted they were to Wufei's. He had never seen those kind of eyes on anyone but those from Quinque. "Oh, you're here. Well, don't just stand there, lunch's boiling over and I can't very well stir and chop at the same time, can I?"

Her arms directed Quatre's gaze to a rather large pot in the middle of her glade, directly in front of a set of colorful tents. An equally large spoon was resting inside the pot, one that looked half of Quatre's own height. Taking a deep breath, and rolling his eyes briefly towards the sky, silently asking if he really needed these Ladies' help, Quatre spared a polite, albeit small, grin for the stern looking woman and started stirring the pot of, what looked like, green slime. He certainly hoped he wasn't expected to eat this.

"Such a good-natured boy, kindness is such a rarity these days it seems. Now I can see what Sandrock likes so much about you. Be careful to not let it stick to the sides." The woman began to chop various roots and herbs, measuring and weighing before dumping them into the pot, Quatre feeling his arms prickle uncomfortably as he stirred the ever thickening sludge.

"Tell me, do you know who I am, Quatre?" Quatre glanced over at her once and nodded.

"You're one of the Great Ladies…you're Nataku." His words were ragged and out of breath as the stirring began to tire his whole body, not just his arms.

"That I am. As my sisters have stated before me, I cannot aid until a service has been given to me. And you have done so." At once, the spoon disappeared and Quatre staggered back, letting his arms drop as he collapsed to the ground; they each felt like they had lead weights attached to them. "And as I have two gifts for you, I have a riddle for you to answer: give me food, and I will live; give me water, and I will die, what am I?"

Quatre felt like his brain was foggy and couldn't really be trusted to focus, but he replayed the words and looked around the glade, which was still filled with smoldering ashes and blazes from Nataku's earlier performance. "You are fire."

Nataku looked up at him and ladled some of the brew into a bowl, her black eyes alight with power that was almost too much for Quatre to look at. "That I am. Now, I know this doesn't look all that appetizing, but it tastes a lot better than it looks. Eat up, you look dreadful."

Quatre took the bowl, arms shaking with exertion in just raising up to grab the bowl, and gulped down a spoonful without really thinking. He was too tired to care and he was just now realizing he hadn't eaten anything in what felt like days. Maybe it was. It was hard to tell in this forest. Surprisingly, the sludge (which didn't look too much like sludge now) did taste better than it looked, and he felt the fatigue settled all throughout his body flee. He finished the entire bowl and slowly got to his feet, still feeling sore but not as exhausted as he had been before.

"Fell better? Good. Now for my gifts, which you have thoroughly earned young man. First, I have some advice for you; do not fear your abilities, no matter how destructive they can seem to be. They are a part of who you are, much like you're eyesight, and to ignore them because of fear would be handicapping yourself, and you don't want that. Nor can you afford to if you're going to be going up against Trolls. Second, I give you a gift."

Somewhat reeling from the comment about trusting his abilities, he assumed she meant the empathy, he didn't reach for what she offered right away. Fear his empathy? He had never feared it; in Arabaan he sometimes wished that he wasn't treated differently and recently he wished that it didn't cause him to be so invasive…but fearing it? Nataku cleared her throat and moved her outstretched hand, a slender eyebrow raised on her elegant face. Quatre mumbled an apology and took the gift. It was an apple…a solid gold apple. He stared at it for a moment and then looked back up into Nataku's face, confusion plain on his own.

"If you save that until the end of your journey, it may be of some use to you."

"Funny, that's what your Sister said about the golden spool," Quatre grinned.

Nataku smiled, patting Quatre's cheek in a motherly fashion. "Then you should heed the advice, shouldn't you?"

"I'm guessing you want me to find one of your Sisters…" Quatre trailed off as he tucked the gold apple into his pack. Nataku smiled and whirled away in a flash of fire, leaving Quatre alone in the glade once more. He sighed and rubbed at his temples, feeling a headache coming on. Why did everything in Fey have to be so complicated? "I'll take that as a yes. Well then…"

Making his way back to the path in the forest, Quatre saw that all ways heading back to where he left Nix with the Heero and Duo cut off by towering trees, leaving only forward as an option. He felt unsettled to be separated from them, especially considering the forest had already proved itself quite dangerous, but he trudged on. The forest got darker and more dense the longer he walked his path, until it was hard to determine if he was on a path or if he was simply wandering lost, the trees looking more gnarled and the leaves drooping larger around him. Quatre wondered if it simply was the amount of trees that made it darker or if it really was night and he'd been walking for hours. He was beginning to feel his breathing sharpen as worry bordering on panic settled in, when he heard sobbing. Quatre couldn't stop the relieved smile from spreading; who thought he'd ever be so happy to hear someone crying?

Quatre made his way towards where the sound was coming from when he noticed the ground he was walking on felt quite a bit different. He looked down and noticed that he was walking on hair, brilliant white hair that was dirtied from the forest ground and had many brambles and debris tangled throughout it. His eyes followed the hair to a hunched figure, sitting and wailing on a rock. Quatre bit his lip and gently stepped off the hair, making his way to face the little figure. She abruptly stopped crying and looked up at him, piercing blue eyes the only youthful feature on her otherwise ancient face. She grinned a toothless grin that was full of mischief and pushed some of her hair out of the way with withered hands.

"Thought you'd got lost, boy. But, no matter, you got here well enough. I suppose you're quite tired of hearing the same spiel for a third time so I'll spare you. Want to guess at who I am?"

Quatre stared at her, eyes flicking to the slight point he could see poking through the volumes of tangled hair. "Lady Deathscythe, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Deathscythe cackled in a pleasant manner. "Oh, I do love manners! Not enough people have them nowadays…well, I'm sure you can guess what needs to happen to get my gifts."

Quatre nodded, a genuine smile creeping across his face at the ancient looking Deathscythe's infectious happiness. She looked like she was one step from death's door, but he had never seen anyone so lively, except perhaps Hilde. She clapped her hands together and reached into her robes, producing a fine toothed comb. She cackled again and held out the comb. Quatre took it, looked at it for a moment and gave Deathscythe a skeptical smile.

"I think shears would be more effective at this point, Lady."

"Ah, but then you wouldn't learn anything!" Her eyes glittered in amusement.

Quatre looked at the comb and sighed, giving Deathscythe a wan smile before he set to work on untangling the incredibly ratty hair with a fine toothed comb. It was frustrating at first, and more than once he was sure he was going to get hit upside the head for tugging out a considerable amount of hair, but Deathscythe just sat still, grinning wide and humming a merry tune every now and then. Quatre felt a pain build up in his neck from hunching over for so long, but he ignored it, continuously combing the hair, afraid the hair might break a tooth of the comb off more than once. Eventually, Quatre had worked through most of the top of the head, allowing him to evenly separate the hair into sections and tackle them individually. He worked in silence for what seemed like hours when, after he was close to half way done with the long hair, sitting on the ground, white hair all around him, Deathscythe turned her head caught his eye.

"You're quite good at this. I was expecting to have the hardest task for you, but there you are, quite content, nearly done! Just full of surprises, aren't you?"

Quatre smiled up at her, setting the smooth, combed hair sections aside before setting to work on another tangled section. "I have twenty-nine sisters. When I was younger, there was a style among the women in my home country that involved having your hair weaved into many small braids, but it was expensive and my family didn't have a lot of money, so my sisters would do it themselves. The problem was, they needed an extra set of hands, small hands, to help them. I was the youngest so I was volunteered. It made them happy, so I didn't mind doing it; guess some of it stuck with me."

Deathscythe hummed to herself before she spoke again, blue eyes focusing on Quatre with intensity. "You know, I've known a few Empaths in my time, and you lot never fail to interest me. It's interesting, you see, because it says something about the Empath, to be able to feel what others feel, enjoy what they enjoy simply because their happiness echoes with your own, and still be able to maintain a sense of self. Most of the time, they have stronger personalities and emotions than anyone else! You are all quite extraordinary to me!"

Quatre felt heat creep up his neck, opened his mouth to try and deny but it died in his throat. He settled for an embarrassed, but hopefully still polite, shrug, focusing his attention on his combing. He didn't know about 'extraordinary,' and he didn't know about what being an Empath said about his character…but he did know about others' emotions overwhelming him, making him forget who he was and what he was feeling.

"I knew you're mother, you know." Quatre promptly stopped his combing and looked up, a startled look on his face.

"What? You—my mother lived in the Fey? But how, my father said she'd always been in—"

Deathscythe held up a hand and Quatre felt the tumble of words halt abruptly. He touched his throat in confusion before he remembered what Deathscythe had been in life, what she had proved she was still in death. He glared at her innocent smile.

"Oh, don't give me that look; you were working yourself up into a state. Now, listen and I'll un-stick your tongue, all right? I know how touchy you Humans are when it comes to being manipulated by magic."

Quatre nodded, refusing to comb her hair in a show of his irritation.

"No, I didn't meet your mother in the Fey, I met her in Arabaan. In case you've overlooked it, Sandrock is a bit protective of your bloodline, which makes sense as it was once her own, and after the horrible events that separated Illrea from the Fey, she liked to keep an eye on you and your kin. Sometimes she'd ask one of us, the Great Ladies, to check in on you. I met her then. Very feisty little thing, let me tell you, kicked a bully in the shin after he stole a little girl's doll. Fearless but kind beyond reason, not unlike yourself."

Quatre felt something strange build up in his chest, something that was choking and horrible as much as it was warm and wonderful. He knew about his mother, had heard constant comments of how he looked like her, of how kind she was, of how giving…but hearing it from Deathscythe, hearing how she was as a child and how he was like her, was completely different. When he was younger, he often thought that his family, especially his father, only told him he was like his mother to make him feel some sort of connection to a woman who'd died to bring him into the world. Deathscythe wasn't quite a stranger, but she wasn't family; hearing her say she thought he was like his mother made him feel connected to her as it made him miss her.

In the end, he couldn't find words strong enough to convey what her words meant so he smiled and went back to combing the hair. Deathscythe smiled gently at him all the while, until he had finally combed put the last snarl. He stood up and brushed off his pants, smiling at Deathscythe, who also stood with agility normal women who looked her age wouldn't have. She shook her long hair and it faded away, leaving only a halo of white around her head, the rest of it coiled up and pinned out of the way.

"Well, you certainly did well, Quatre, so my gift to you is that comb in your hand. Keep it until the end, and I mean the end, and it may do you some good. Now, do you want my words?"

"Will they help me find Trowa?"

"They most certainly will, if you're clever. And I think you've proven that."

Quatre nodded, Deathscythe grinned toothlessly once more. "Then I ask you this: I am larger than the mountain, deeper than the ocean, and light as a feather, what am I?"

There were two possible answers, Quatre thought, to her riddle, two possible choices that both made equal amount of sense in his mind. He wrapped his hand around the copper pendant, a habit he had picked up over the past few months, drawing in comfort from the muted impression of Trowa he could feel. And suddenly, inexplicably, he knew.

"You are the wind."

Deathscythe nodded. "That I am. And that is what you must look for if you wish to find your lost prince. That is what will take you to him."

"What?" Quatre felt a little cheated. How in Allah's name was that supposed to help him? "What does that mean?"

"You must look for the Winds that do not soar…Winds that have masters, for one of them might know where you must go."

Quatre looked at her helplessly, lost and confused, and a little betrayed; he thought that coming into this forest was going to give him direction, advice, to find Trowa, not befuddle him anymore! Winds that did not soar…what did she mean.? Deathscythe smiled at him in an encouraging manner, cupping his face with her wrinkled hands, blue eyes drilling into his own shade of blue. "I don't understand."

"You will, silly boy, you will. You're clever aren't you? If you're not clever enough to figure out my riddles you certainly won't be clever enough to outwit a Troll as slippery as Dorothy. Now shoo! I think you and your companions have been here long enough. Oh, and tell Duo that if he breaks that lyre of his one more time, I'll mend it myself and it won't be pretty! I didn't lend him my instrument to break."

Deathscythe winked before disappearing. Quatre only had a moment to try and comprehend what was going on when he felt the ground beneath him shift, whirl away and a blend of earth and color, dizzying Quatre until he felt sick. And then, it stopped…

Quatre opened his eyes and saw that he was no longer in a forest, but on the path towards Ares they had been on before, and that while it was night, his staff showed no other wilted blossoms beside the one. And on the ground before him, were two very confused looking men, Duo scratching his head and blinking blearily while Heero scowled at Nix, who sat pleased as can be in between them both, with Quatre standing above them, looking a little worse for wear, holding a golden comb in his hand.

TBC…

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I have no excuse. I am so sorry for the delay! Hopefully we will not have a repeat. Thanks so much for those who reviewed and left me such wonderful comments, I hope you enjoy this part, and be sure to review! Oh, also, in case you haven't looked at my profile, CrazyLaLa drew me some gorgeous art for this story and you all need to see how wonderful it is! Links are in my profile, go give her love! Cheers.

Osco


	13. Chapter 13

Candlelight (13/?)

Author: Osco

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xS

Rating: R

Warnings: Lemony goodness, violence, language, magical happenings, and ugly Trolls attempting to ruin the story!

Summary: Retelling of the fairy tale, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" GW style. What if you made a mistake? What if the person you loved had to pay the price? How far would you go to save him? How about a place that can't exist?

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I am but a poor college student who has no hold over the characters whatsoever and is doing this as a pastime.

**Chapter Thirteen: **_**Ares**_

"…so, they gave you three golden trinkets to help? Jeez…that's a bit of a letdown. I was hoping for more, I don't know, constructive tools, weapons maybe, some kind of potion that granted strength would even be good…"

Heero 'hmphed' under his breath, apparently in agreement with the Elf's annoyed ramblings, but still continued his investigation of the three gold objects before him. He picked up the apple, no doubt examining it to see if it was really a weapon of some sort while Duo played with the spool of golden thread beside him. Quatre sat separate, completing their small triangle, the golden comb glinting in his hand against the firelight. He had told both Heero and Duo everything that happened in the strange forest while they had been asleep (neither were quite happy about that and glared at Nix equally, who ignored them). Duo had been enraptured at the descriptions of each of the Ladies, while Heero had immediately began to inspect the three gifts, repeating the different advice each had given Quatre.

It was now late, the moon at half full and glowing in the dark sky, but despite how truly exhausted Quatre felt from the somewhat harrowing day, he couldn't stand the thought of sleeping. Neither Heero nor Duo had any clue how three golden objects could be of any use to them, beyond the obvious monetary value, but the warnings each Lady had given about not using them suggested that selling them was not their purpose. Deathscythe's words were just as mysterious as they were when Quatre had first heard them as well, not really aiding in their frustration levels. Quatre inwardly appreciated Duo's indignation; what was the point of giving him three objects that had no use and advice that was a riddle in and of itself? He was already searching for a place that shouldn't be able to feasibly exist, in a world he knew next to nothing about, trying to come to terms with a lineage that only invited more trouble…how much more could he really be expected to try and figure out?

As soon as the thought had come, Quatre felt a sick swoop of guilt follow. In all honesty, he had no right to complain about the gifts, the advice, or even his journey. For some reason, five powerful women had seen fit to try and help him find Trowa, had given him guides and help when they could when he deserved nothing for causing the whole mess in the first place. Duo and Heero had every right to be upset or annoyed at how blind they truly were in their search, but Quatre did not. He took a deep breath and blew it out, wishing he could recapture that hopeful, upbeat feeling he had prior to that forest.

"…'winds that do not soar…' hm. Maybe it's a place, you know, where winds are absent or something."

"No, Lady Deathscythe told him that these 'masters of the winds' would take us to Trowa, suggesting that the words refer to an actual object or person."

Quatre shook his head tiredly, fighting to keep his eyes open. "No, she said 'one of these masters' might be able to help…so there could be more than one, I guess, and not necessarily 'winds' themselves. Maybe she means a sorcerer or something…wasn't Deathscythe one?"

Heero's brow narrowed in thought as he nodded to Quatre's question. He focused on Duo's perplexed face. "A sorcerer trained right could have some control over winds. Could it be an Elven name?"

"I haven't heard of anyone getting Named lately. I think the last was a Healer living somewhere north, up in the mountains. Saved something like a thousand people. But, that's just the thing, Heero…it wouldn't be a sorcerer who controlled actual winds because they do soar. Hell, could the Lady have been any more confusing? Not to mention I don't know even know anyone who's been named 'winds that do not soar' or any variation of it, and I know quite a few people!"

"Hn."

"Yes, I know, but try and contain your surprise…even I can't know everyone." Duo grinned playfully at Heero's unamused glare. Quatre smiled despite his darkening mood. "But, sounds like we still need to go to Ares, so let's just get that done first, uh? We can worry about the rest of this once we're there, otherwise He-chan here will develop a serious wrinkle from all the frowning and he's just too young for that!"

Heero chucked the apple at Duo, who deftly caught it with a smile.

Quatre paused in his own musings and stared at the pair, a look of unmitigated surprise on his face, jaw even dropping open a bit. He looked at his companions, _really_ looked at them and tentatively lowered his iron-like mental shields, almost wondering if he was really asleep. Heero had chucked the apple, yes, but there had been a softened look on his face while he did it, not quite a smirk, but more like the smallest of smiles. Duo had caught it and teased him with a grin, but gone was the almost malicious intent to embarrass and annoy. And the emotions swirling around both their hearts was…calmed. There was still work to be done, still uncertainty, guilt, anger, and all the other things Quatre had been trying so hard to avoid, but they were overshadowed by a common affection and understanding. A longing and acceptance that went deeper than Quatre dared to look…if he hadn't known these two had been at each other's throats only a day before, Quatre would've thought they were a couple beginning to fall in love.

He turned and fixed ocean colored eyes on Nix, who was also examining the pair with something that could only be smugness. Nix blinked all blue eyes at Quatre and yipped, settling down beside one of the blond's bent legs, purring deeply and generally looking quite pleased with himself. Quatre shot another look at the Sive prince and the Elven bard, both of whom had shared a look that Quatre could feel reverberate through his skin before they each went back to their initial conversation and examination. He couldn't stop the smile, even if a small part of his heart was envious, and scratched Nix behind one of his large ears.

"You know, when you said they were working out their issues, I assumed you meant within themselves, like I did, not with each other." He whispered to the small Desert Cat, smirking at the insufferably proud look he adopted.

Nix growled and blinked his eyes, ears twitching back as he closed his eyes. He couldn't speak to Quatre or the others the way he could in the Ladies' woods, but the blond still knew what he was trying to say. "Yeah, they still do have a lot to work out…but it's a start. At least I won't have to block out their constant, hurtful bickering."

Nix purred in agreement. Quatre continued to pet him as he lay down, sleep finally winning out, eyes slipping shut with Heero briefly brushing his hand across Duo's.

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_This time, Quatre was prepared when he woke in the dream. _

_He stretched his arms up and over his head, wrinkling his brow in confusion as the solid surface below him was much more cushioned than the usual grass and dirt. He took another stock of his surroundings, sitting up, hands smoothing over the rich, velvet coverlet he was on, blue eyes taking in the ever familiar room he had met Trowa is so many times before. His eyes quickly searched for some sort of sign of Trowa, but he was nowhere to be found. Gingerly, as if the slightest sound he made would be heard and jolt him away, Quatre slid off the large bed, bare feet cringing on the cold stone beneath him. _

_His attention drifted to the window which showed the sun and moon at impossible positions in the sky for a moment before going to a decidedly different detail of the room. The large, wooden door that was always shut before was open. Indecision warred within Quatre for a moment, wary of how off this dream was compared to others he'd had, but he steeled himself and made his way out the door, hand gripping the pendant as the other guided softly along the stone wall. The stairway leading out from the opulent room was darkened, not one light lit along the sure to be winding stairway, but Quatre kept his steps measured and slow, sure to keep an ear out for any other sounds. _

_When he reached the bottom and another, smaller, door, he opened it just a tad and peeked out, seeing nothing but an empty hallway, before he walked out, blinking erratically as he adjusted to the sudden light. His feet, almost as if they had a mind of their own, started walking down the cold hallway, and his mind felt suspiciously blank, devoid of the worry, alarm and dread walking, what Quatre had assumed was a Troll stronghold, in plain sight. What more, although he knew he had never seen any of this before, never stepped foot in whatever strange place this was, Quatre felt a focused knowledge of where he was and where he was going. Quatre wondered, briefly, if this was a real dream just masquerading as one of the dreamscapes…it certainly seemed different than usual. His feet jerked to a stop, jolting his attention out of the hazy fog that had wrapped around his awareness. He furrowed his brow and tried to take another, step, sure that he needed to keep heading in that direction, and a hand, large and firm, clapped over his shoulder._

_Quatre gasped as he felt something akin to fire race down his spine, flowing directly from that hand gripping his shoulder, and tried to jerk away. It hurt, felt like his skin was in flames and he cried out, gritting his teeth as he felt darkness creep up behind his vision, pain blurring everything into a white edge. He felt like there were words being whispered to him, could feel their buzz on the fringe of his mind, but all he could hear was the ringing in his head. When he thought he couldn't take anymore, the pain, the ringing, everything vanished, leaving him breathing erratically and gulping, his body feeling as if it was one step from collapsing. He closed his eyes to stop the spinning, and that's when he realized the hand was still gripping him. And the whispers were louder, soothing and quiet in his ear._

"_Breathe…deep breaths, you'll feel better. Disorientation is normal when spells are broken and the pain will fade, but you need to breathe. I swear, you desert rats can't ever seem to keep out of trouble."_

_Quatre felt a stab of indignation sweep through him; desert rat? But, he did as instructed, even though the first few breaths burned and made him choke and cough, and eventually he did feel the pain recede until all that was left was his missing awareness and sense of self. He opened his eyes slowly, still dizzy and feeling slightly nauseous and was surprised to see the strange hallway was gone…he was in the usual field, still gripped against a rather large form behind him. _

"_There you are, much better. Just keep taking in those deep breaths."_

"_What—what happened? I was—I don't know what's going on. Where's Trowa?"_

"_Asleep, I suspect." The voice was still quiet, almost a murmur, but there was a hint of wry humor within it. It made Quatre feel horribly nostalgic; Trowa talked like that. He blinked a few more times and shook his head, trying to clear away the last of the fogginess and pain from his head before he turned around. The grip on his shoulder did not lessen._

_Quatre had to look up to see into the very tall woman's face. Tall was an understatement…the woman was a giant. She stood easily three heads taller than Quatre and had a distinctly masculine shape to her body, burly and with hardly any noticeable curves; Quatre did not know if it was natural or the woman's shapeless, practical clothing. Her face wasn't unpleasant, but Quatre could honestly say that he wouldn't take a second look at her, her hawk like expression and heavy brows made her appear surly. Her eyes, though, we're wise and fathomless, a deep brown flecked through with green, framed by equally dark hair that had been cut short and bound back. She had a long cloak cast over her shoulders with a cowl pulled up around her head, but the large, menacing crossbow strapped across her back was almost as large as she. He knew who she was._

"_Heavyarms." The huge woman inclined her head._

"_One of many names I have been called, but the most famous at any rate." She didn't smile, but her hand relaxed its iron grip on his shoulder. _

"_I don't have to do anymore tasks, do I?" Quatre couldn't stop the words before the flew out of his mouth, much to his chagrin. However, far from looking offended, Heavyarms quirked her eyebrow in what Quatre could assume was amusement._

"_After you combed that monstrosity Deathscythe likes to call hair, no." She did not elaborate much to Quatre's exasperation. She was making Trowa seem to be a regular chatterbox...luckily Quatre had plenty of practice getting words out of such people._

"_Then…why are you here?"_

"_Why else, saving you boy. You were doing quite a good job of getting yourself killed, so sorry if I disrupted that. And Sandrock told me you were intelligent. Desert rat kinship, I suppose."_

"_Killed?" Quatre breathed. He ignored her obvious insults for favor of the much more important information she had revealed. "Who would…wait, never mind, stupid question. Was it Dorothy?"_

_Heavyarms nodded, unbuckling her huge crossbow from her back, swinging it around with such ease one would think it was nothing but a feather. Quatre tensed and took a step back, not wanting to get clocked in the head by the large weapon, loosing himself from her grip (though Quatre did admit that is was more probably she had let him go rather than he had freed himself). _

"_I-I didn't know she could do that…try and kill me through my dreams, I mean."_

"_Normally, she can't…but your Areenjan is rather taxed, you fell asleep and slipped into the dreamscape before he could act. It was a fortuitous set of events for the Troll witch. It also speaks of the hold she is gaining over your fiancé as the two curses gain more power. It will only get more dangerous to visit him in this medium, the Areenjan's protection or not. I'd advise against it, but I can tell you wouldn't listen. Common sense just doesn't seem to penetrate desert rat skulls."_

"_Why do you keep calling me that?" Quatre frowned at the tiny smirk he received in response; he was getting tired of her calling him that and he already had to deal with his near-assassination._

"_Because that's what you are." She cocked her head to the left and shouldered the huge crossbow, aiming it towards a distant castle, a castle Quatre assumed he had been in a short time ago. "When I was alive, back when I was just a spy and not some ridiculous figurehead, my country and what was once yours were at war. It is a nickname that I find hard to shake, even after so many years; though I mean it in no rude way…it was a persistent little desert rat who convinced me we didn't have to be enemies, after all."_

"_Sandrock?"_

"_Sandrock. She asked me to keep an eye on you, since my Sisters are somewhat occupied trying to avert a war within the Fey."_

_Quatre nodded, having no words to respond with. He should've known that he wasn't the only one who'd been affected by Trowa's abduction, especially if Treize really was in schemes with Trolls to overtake the Colony kingdoms. Still, it was kind of hard to think about others when he was so focused on getting Trowa back…he shouldn't have let himself get so annoyed at the gifts and advice the others had given him. It probably wasn't easy for them…trying to help him and all of Fey. Not to mention, the question of what exactly Sandrock was within the Great Ladies was starting to grow on his mind…she seemed to be quite convincing in getting the others to watch over him…to watch over his family. He knew she wanted to avert a war as much as the others, and Quatre was somehow imperative to that, but… _

"_You should return, desert rat. Your Areenjan guide will be sure to guard you more closely from now on, but remember my words. Dorothy's hold over the Trian prince grows stronger the closer the curses fully hold him…soon even the Areenjan and my own protection may not be enough to shield you from her should you choose to visit him in your dreams. It would not be wise for you to wander into such danger…unless you were just as dangerous, yourself."_

_Heavyarms shot off a huge crossbow and light seemed to shatter around him…_

…

…

…and he woke to Nix's very concerned and apologetic eyes. He sighed shakily and rubbed a hand over his face, the other reaching up, tiredly, to pat Nix's soft head and ears. He drifted back to asleep some hours later, his head mulling over everything that had happened, but ultimately revolving around a single thought.

That Trowa was slipping further away with him with every withered blossom and crack on his staff, even their dream haven was disappearing. He had no more dreams that night, the copper pendant dull and cold against his skin.

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Five blossoms later, leaving twenty-nine left to find Trowa, Quatre crested over a hill and inhaled his first taste of ocean air. He felt a smile creep across his face as he looked down the bluff towards the crescent shaped city, a salty breeze tossing his blond hair back from his face, coming from what looked like an endless expanse of blue. Duo had explained the ocean as best he could, answering Quatre's many, curious questions with a happy smile and glint in his eyes. The Elf knew that Quatre had only heard about such a thing as a 'sea' from stories and far travelling merchants and enjoyed the honest awe and amazement radiating from Quatre's expression. Even Heero, despite his previous warning about Ares and its slums, had smiled in his own manner as soon as the ocean came into view.

Nix guided the small group down a winding path that was close to the cliffs, but did not take the extra day the main path would have, straight to the city's entrance. Duo's presence served as an extra help as he got them into the city without any tolls, the braided Elf winking back at Quatre when he thanked the guard, who was obviously a smitten fan, for the favor, promising to use his name in a song. Quatre also caught the disgruntled expression on Heero's face as Duo was fawned over, and coughed into his hand to hide a smile. Nix danced around all of their ankles, yipping all the while but otherwise looking like a normal tabby kitten.

The city wasn't nearly as large as Taurus, but still had all manner of races walking down the stone streets, bustling by in a much more busied way, contrasting with Taurus which was still primarily made up of Elves who had a unique view of time. Duo, who was more familiar with the city than Heero, who had only been to the large port city twice before as a child, led them deftly through the cities narrow, crowded streets to his favorite inn, yelling out a greeting to a grimy looking cook emptying a pot in an alley.

"Welcome to the Shanty…not the most original name, but they've got the best smoked fish this side of Fey." Duo said. He was grinning wide, per usual, and practically thrumming with energy, no doubt excited to start asking around about Trowa. Quatre and Heero, who had already done this many times, were not as enthused, but the blond was happy they wouldn't be sleeping outside at the very least. He had done enough camping to last a few lifetimes. "So, it's still not too late to start asking around, is it? I didn't even know that path along the cliffside was there, Nix, you and me are going to have to have a heart-to-heart pretty soon!"

Nix meowed, per his disguise, and rubbed against Duo's leg, stretching while he did so.

"Duo, we're probably not going to find anyone who knows where Trowa is." Quatre explained. A young girl had led the three up to their rooms, shooting shy looks at Duo all the while (it seemed Duo was just as well known in Ares as he was in Taurus). "Believe me, anytime you mention a place that is east of the sun and west of the moon you get either very confused no's or they look at you like you're a bit off."

"Well, duh, but we're not asking about the east-west thingy, are we? We're looking for 'winds that do not soar.'"

Heero dropped his pack on the floor, not looking around their rather lavish surroundings that were obviously for Duo's benefit. "I doubt that approach will produce better results. What we should do is ask around for merchants that are dealing with Trolls, as G said. We'd have better luck with that, it's not a riddle."

Duo sighed in a put upon way, as if Heero's method, while more practical, was not nearly as exciting as his own. "Fine, you're way it is, even if it's not nearly as much fun."

"This journey is not meant to be about fun." Heero frowned as he buckled on his scabbard, directing his attention to his collection of short swords and knives, no doubt measuring the pros and cons of each, Quatre thought. The blond valiantly tried to stifle a yawn.

"Well, I know that, it's about saving the world, true love, and all that jazz, but if _we_ don't make it just a little fun, we'll go crazy! Look at Cat, he's so bored he's about to fall over." Duo motioned at Quatre wildly, winking at the blond when he jerked back to attention, looking sorry.

"That's not because he's bored, it's because he's not sleeping." Heero caught Quatre's blue gaze with his own.

"What I'm not—"

"Oh, Cat, you're cute but you're a terrible liar. You've been sleeping like hell ever since we walked through that weird forest. Elves don't need a whole lot of sleep, and Heero here is just to alert to be normal." Duo grinned, lying upside down on one of the beds, his braid dangling onto the floor. "Want to talk about it?"

"If he did, he would have. Just leave it." Duo glared over at Heero for a moment.

"Not everyone's emotionally stunted like you, your Highness; most normal creatures like to talk about what's bothering them!"

Heero narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to reply, but Quatre stood up, effectively cutting it off, not willing to deal with one of their squabbles when he was so tired. "Guys, really, I'm fine. I just had a…a bit of a scare a few days ago, but it's fine, I'm sure I'll get back into a normal cycle of sleep now that we've got actual beds and baths. Nothing to worry about. We should really start asking around though, it's only midday. I'd hate to waste a day just because we're a little tired."

Quatre smiled at both of them, but he knew that neither was convinced. However, his reminder that they only had a month left to find Trowa was a strong enough warning to leave him be for the time. Quatre felt a bit guilty about worrying his friends, especially since he could feel their concern for him so strongly, shields or not, but there would be time for them to worry about him later. Right now, they had to stay focused on Trowa, he was all that mattered. Nix growled at him from where he was sitting next to Quatre's foot, his ears flicked back in unmistakable annoyance, obviously not pleased with Quatre's evasion. Quatre smiled at him softly, scratching under his chin before he turned back to the others, who were silently communicating with each other.

"The city's pretty big, so we should probably split up. Duo and Heero, you should go together and I'll go with Nix."

"What? Hell no! You don't even know this city and what if—"

"I have to agree with Duo, it is not wise for you to wander alone in a city where Trolls are suspected of trading in weapons."

"—and you don't even know how to swim!"

Quatre shook his head. "Duo, Heero doesn't know this city well either and we don't have enough time to waste time searching together when we could cover twice as much ground! What if we need to go somewhere after this city? What if it's another two places? If we can figure that out quicker, we have to. Don't worry, Nix won't let me get lost, and I'm sure he won't let me fall in the ocean either, Duo."

"And what if Trolls are skulking around?" Duo did not look pleased at all, but Quatre could see he had Heero convinced, even if the Sive prince didn't like it.

"I'm not helpless, I can defend myself if I need to. You can ask Heero, I've already fought against Trolls before. Duo, really, we can't afford to all search together. Besides, I think we'll be a little less suspicious if we not all in one group."

Duo still looked like he wanted to argue but he kept quiet after a look from Heero. He sighed and adopted his usual put upon pose, head cocked to the side with his hands on his hips, a quiet glare echoing in his eyes. "All right, but I don't like it. It's not me and Heero that crazy Troll Witch is after."

"Quatre will be fine, Nix will make sure of it." Heero nodded at Quatre, his simple manner of showing his confidence in the blond's skills. "But we shouldn't search after dusk, so be back at this inn before then."

"Of course." Quatre smiled. Heero finished strapping weapons to his person and dragged Duo, who still looked like he wanted to lecture Quatre about Ares and staying away from the ocean, out of the door by the braid. He called back to Quatre that he and Duo would take the western side of the city, ignoring Duo's angry shouts to let him go, deftly blocking the punches the disgruntled Elf sent his way before he shut the door.

Quatre quickly scrubbed his tired face and changed out of his frayed and somewhat threadbare traveling clothing into some of the nicer clothes he had initially brought from Tria. If he was going to try and get information out of merchants, it would help if he looked like someone who had gold to spend, not a dirty traveler. He briefly debated whether to bring the three gold gifts, knowing that he was sure that trying to use them as bribes was not what the Ladies had meant them for, before he stuffed them into the folds of his cloak. It would probably be best to keep them with him, just in case. Once he was dressed, the staff grasped in his hand and the pendant around his neck as always, Quatre sent a smile towards Nix sitting on the bed.

"Well, let's get started. Not going to find anything by just sitting here." Nix yipped in agreement and hopped off, following after Quatre as he made his way out of the inn and into the streets of Ares.

Ares was an oddly shaped city which accounted for its confusing floor plan, but there were well marked signs on almost every corner, making it easy to navigate as long as one paid attention. Quatre was somewhat distracted, but luckily Nix paid enough attention for both of them, and always alerted Quatre when he started veering off path. It was hard to decide where to start, as the entire city seemed to be comprised of different stores and trading guilds, the residential sections either well to the northern part of the city or above the stores themselves. Many of the merchants were affable and friendly towards Quatre, recognizing him as a foreigner because of his fair coloring and blond hair, and he didn't feel anything untrustworthy from them; at least, nothing out of the ordinary for a merchant. But it was hard to broach the subject if illicit trading with Trolls, and to be honest, Quatre knew that was going to be the only way he would know for sure whether he should press for more information. Maybe he'd ask Heero later how he and Duo approached the subject…

Quatre exited what had seemed like the hundredth store, aware that the city was large and a trading capitol; he wasn't going to cover even a fraction of the stores in a few hours. Still…after today he would only have a scant few weeks left to find Trowa. He sighed and followed Nix as the little Areenjan skipped down the stone road, eyes drifting to the sun; it was starting to lower and he knew he'd have to head back to the inn soon. Oh well, maybe he'd have better luck tomorrow, or maybe he could search a different section of the city. Maybe if he concentrated on the smithies and the supply stores in the more industrial part of town, which he could see from the cliff from earlier, he'd find what he needed sooner.

Quatre shook his head and looked up; he inhaled sharply in wonder as he finally saw where Nix had led them. He could smell the salt of the ocean more strongly over that past hour and now he knew why. To their left, roped off from the gently lapping water, was a cove full of docked ships. Marina, that's what Duo had called it, the Ares Marina. There had to be hundreds of ships docked there, some still and some active, some coming in while others were departing, tiny ships Duo had called skiffs and huge barges. A smile spread across Quatre's face as he walked to the edge of the walkway, leaning against the rope and iron that served as a railing; he had never seen a ship outside of a book before…they were amazing, even more amazing than the brightly colored caravans that would travel to Araaban with all sorts of exotic goods.

He walked down the pathway, completely fascinated by the activity going on; there were all sorts of languages being shouted, but Quatre could feel their honesty, their humor, their genuine affection for one another. He supposed that was natural, you formed a family with who you grew up with, who you spent your life with. It was nice to see such honest feelings…so nice that he didn't realize he had walked straight into the Marina and out of the city streets until he was already there. He looked back at Nix, who seemed untroubled with where they were, and then glanced around. He wasn't the only one watching the ship activity, as it seemed a popular site for visitors and townsfolk alike. There were some ships that were set apart from the others, ships that looked sleeker and more modern, steel and iron pounded into panels and molded in ways Quatre could only imagine would keep the ship afloat.

"You, there budge over! You gawk any closer to the damn thing you'll fall into the ocean and I for sure ain't fishing you out!"

Quatre whipped around to look at the tall, olive-skinned man who was currently yelling at a group of boys who were playing too close to one of the empty docks, glowering at the quickly scattered boys before smiling again at the group of men around him. The man wasn't familiar in anyway, his weathered, smiling face and brown eyes pleasant under the fez hat sitting on his head, but his clothing was. He had seen that style of clothing, the loose pants, the belted sash, the open vest, on a group of people close to six months ago…before he had betrayed Trowa's trust, before his father had…

"—not a cent less! You think I don't know what you're bringing in? You can afford the extra fee with how much that dragon oil will bring you. Think of it as a hazard fee, my friend. This way, should that oil explode and take out a portion of my harbor, I won't have to hunt you down afterward."

"Harbormaster, I assure you, only the most seasoned of my men will handle the oil! I promise, no harm will come to your Marina!"

"Good. You know where the collector is, Maddo, no more complaints!"

Quatre sat down on a bench close to where the man, the Harbormaster, turned to another ship's captain, switching languages effortlessly and negotiating a fee for docking. Nix hopped up and purred as he curled next to him, all blue eyes blinking lazily as his tail swished back and forth. Quatre wondered why someone from Quattuon was all the way out here, easily hundreds of miles from home, and why Nix had guided him here. He sat for a few minutes more before he realized the time, cursing under his breath as he stood up and began to make his way out of the Marina. However, before he was even a few feet away, he heard the snippets of a conversation that stopped his breath and his feet.

"—lucky to get anything from the Colonies right now, my friend. Haven't you heard what's happened? One of those royals disappeared, whole household with 'im, causing all kinds of fights and chaos to sprout up there. They're not trading with anyone at the moment."

"That right, Auda, or this idiot yanking my chain? Some Colony kid disappeared?"

The Harbormaster, Auda, nodded his head, face solemn as he took a pile of papers from one of other merchants. "The Trian prince…there are rumors that the Sive prince has also disappeared, but it's unconfirmed. Still, Tria's crisis is causing disturbances all over the Colonies. Quattuon has sent search parties all over the Fey, and Quinque as sent numerous representatives throughout the kingdoms to try and calm the turmoil spreading from Tria. Sanq is virtually the only Colony untouched…Sive has closed itself off, which fueled the rumors about its own prince…"

"What a shame…I heard that Tria had finally found himself a nice lad too…oh well. Take care, Auda, you let me know if you hear anything else from that uncle of yours, I'm eager to know when trade opens up between the Colonies again."

Quatre stood still, shocked to hear about what was happening in his home, the only home he had left, since he had left. He hadn't given much thought to it because he had been so focused on finding Trowa…but with all of Tria's rulers abducted, of course chaos would have erupted. Of course struggles for power would happen and people would get hurt in the wake of it…of course the surrounding kingdoms would feel it as well and be affected. And Sive had lost its prince too…it must be mad, completely and utterly mad. A new, completely different surge of guilt rose in his chest, making his head spin and his breath quicken. It was…it was _all_ his fault…all because of _his_ actions. Because of him…he could feel his breathing quicken dangerously and his head spin but could not slow down his mind enough to calm down.

"Oi! Lad, lad, are you all right?!"

Quatre swayed and felt warm hand grab him and try to steady him. Nix was growling in concern, no doubt, but the hand did nothing to calm him. No, instead the swirling combination of worry, uncertainty, and alarm from everyone around him just made him feel worse. He could feel his vision begin to dim as the pounding in his head got louder and louder, but before he succumbed…he saw something very odd…something that was just a little too much for him.

A ship's name…painted on its prow…_Wind Runner…_

"Winds that do not soar…." Quatre murmured.

Then he slumped forward and knew nothing.

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Well, I think this wait in between updates was much better. I have a very clear vision of where we're going and how long it's going to take to get there. We are nowhere close to the end, lovelies! Please review if you read and liked this! It's basically my baby and I'd love to hear what you thoughts are! Cheers.

Osco


	14. Chapter 14

Candlelight (14/?)

Author: Osco

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xS

Rating: R

Warnings: Lemony goodness, violence, language, magical happenings, and ugly Trolls attempting to ruin the story!

Summary: Retelling of the fairy tale, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" GW style. What if you made a mistake? What if the person you loved had to pay the price? How far would you go to save him? How about a place that can't exist?

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I am but a poor college student who has no hold over the characters whatsoever and is doing this as a pastime.

**Chapter Fourteen: **_**And Her Name is Zero…**_

His head hurt…and there was an unpleasant buzzing noise in his ears when Quatre opened his eyes. He sat up and blinked rapidly, glancing around at his surroundings, wondering how he was back in the room at the Shanty Inn when he distinctly remembered last being in the Marina. Quatre groaned and swung his legs over the side of the bed, also remembering his untimely panic attack after hearing about the Colony Kingdoms…and then nothing which only meant he had actually passed out. Well, he thought ruefully as he rubbed a hand over his face, that accounted for how he was back at the inn. Someone, he suspected the harbormaster, must have carried him back here…and he was sure Nix had revealed himself to do so. He blew out a sigh and rose to his feet, surprised at how he didn't feel dizzy or unsteady, a hand wrapping around the copper pendant as always when he tried to calm down his racing thoughts. He closed his eyes and steadied himself for a moment before blue eyes blinked open slowly.

He felt terrible. Not physically, as he was a little hungry and tired but otherwise hale, but everything else was so hopelessly muddled and tangled. He felt tired, just tired of the journey and the expectations he kept having to meet, embarrassed that he had actually passed out and had to be carried back to the inn because of his lack of sleep, guilty for causing all the problems in the first place, which while he always felt guilty for betraying Trowa, the added guilt from causing the chaotic mess in the Colonies made it infinitely worse. He wanted desperately to forget he was anything more than a poor merchant's son, wanted to forget that his father had died because he wasn't, didn't want to think about how everything would go to hell if he failed in finding Trowa. He just…it was too much to feel, too much for one person to have to deal with and at the same time, he knew he deserved it.

He wanted Trowa.

Quatre dragged himself over to the wash room and splashed his face with water, ignoring the dark circles under his eyes and the almost sickly pale color his skin had faded too as his eyes were inevitably drawn towards his reflection. He stared without really seeing for awhile, not wanting to deal with the three concerned people waiting downstairs for him, wanted to imagine that, just for a moment, none of this had happened. That this was some horrible nightmare and he'd wake up to Trowa's fingers tracing his spine; it would be dark but at least he'd be there. The pendant warmed against his chest for the first time in days, and Quatre smiled softly at the ever stronger echo of Trowa he could feel valiantly trying to banish all the coldness swirling in his head.

"Always trying to make me feel better, aren't you Trowa?" The pendant warmed again before cooling slightly, leaving the faint echo he had avoided since Heavyarms had warned him. The idea that he could be killed in his dreams had also done little to make him feel very good. "I guess wallowing up here really won't make anything better anyways, would it?"

Running a hand through his hair in a quick attempt to have it not stick up too much, Quatre took a deep breath and flashed his reflection a soft smile, deciding it would do before it slipped off his face. He made his way out the room and downstairs, where the inn was lively and crowded with sailors and merchants, playing card games, exchanging stories, and in some cases singing very lewd songs. He spotted Duo first, who was playing his pan flute for a group of children, and sitting around him at the table was Heero and the harbormaster, Auda, who were deep in discussion. Nix was sitting beside Duo in his own form, allowing the children to pet him, but the blue eyes locked on Quatre and he gave a yip. Duo looked up and smiled widely, rising to his feet effortlessly and weaving through the crowd to meet the blond at the bottom of the stairs. The gaggle of children had followed after him and giggled at the mock stern look Duo sent them before ordering them off, to give the 'sick gentleman' room so he wouldn't give them cooties.

Quatre felt the ever rarer genuine smile reach his mouth…Duo was excellent with children…and Heero's expression was softer as he watched the Elf with them.

"I'd ask if you were feeling any better, but I know you wouldn't tell me if you weren't, so I'll just assume that you feel better than you did _before_ you passed out," Duo groused. He hooked an arm around Quatre's shoulders and maneuvered them back to the table and gave the blond a distinctly disgruntled look. "I swear, you'd blame yourself for just about anything if you could."

"Only if I could find due reason why it would be my fault," Quatre smiled.

"Not funny." Duo looked like he still wanted to lecture and scold but he sighed and ruffled Quatre's hair as they sat down. Quatre frowned…he hated it when Duo did that; it made him feel like a child. Granted, Duo was probably a few hundred years older than he was so Quatre was a child in those terms…still, it was the principal of the matter. Duo grinned and stuck out his tongue, taking a long gulp of the drink in front of him.

"Quatre," Heero began. Quatre saw the steel in those blue eyes and the disapproval in his voice…he readied himself. "You won't do anyone any good, least of all Trowa, by neglecting your health."

"I really am—"

"Don't lie when it's obvious you're anything but fine." Heero's voice was cold and laced with anger…but it was an anger that spoke of how worried he was about Quatre beneath the gruff exterior. Quatre felt another touch of guilt worm in and he quickly dropped the smile and nodded.

"So…wanna tell us why you freaked out and fainted at the Marina today? Lucky Auda was there to bring you back, though he did say he just about had a heart attack when an Areenjan showed up and guided him back here." Duo flashed the tall, burly Auda a teasing grin.

"It was—something stupid, I just…I overheard all those merchants talking about the Colonies and I just—"

"Wait, wait, let me guess, you decided all of that was your fault too. By the Ladies, Cat, you'd blame yourself for the lack of air in space if you could! I was just kidding before but…"

"Duo." Heero sent his glare the Elf's way, but Quatre had long devised that the braided Elf was immune.

"I know, but still! Quatre, listen to me, this thing that happened with Tro…you can't keep blaming yourself for it. Yeah, you messed up but who the fuck doesn't? Your dad had just been murdered and your stepmom messed with your head…and it's not like you're just sitting around, spending all of Tria's money and hooking up with every village boy. You're risking your life, and lately your sanity, to get him back…how can you still keep blaming yourself for this? You're making yourself sick with it, believe me; take it from someone who carried a similar guilt like that for a long time…it won't get better until you let it go."

Quatre looked into the probing violet eyes, sensing the sincerity of his own experience without lowering his mental shields, knowing that every word Duo spoke wasn't some kind of empty platitude but words that knew every single thing truth they uttered. They would, he guessed…Duo had been alive for much longer than anyone else at the table; Quatre found himself slightly off balance as he realized that while he knew Duo well for such a short period of time, he knew virtually nothing about his past beyond what he saw in the dreams. And he had already looked close to the current age he resembled now…

"I'm sorry," Quatre murmured. And, to his own surprise, he meant it…he had been wrapped up in his own problems that he didn't pause to think of how ignoring them affected his friends. "I just—I'll be more careful from now on. But I can't just forget that this, this whole journey, is because of my actions. If I had been a stronger person then…then this wouldn't have happened and Trowa would be fine."

"It would have happened eventually, I told you," Heero grunted. "Trowa knew the risks in testing the curses, you didn't. And as for the Colonies…they'll be fine. The merchants like to exaggerate. There might be some trouble, centered in Tria probably, but it's nothing that the Colonies can't overcome with time."

"Yeah, I hear that Sanq princess, Relena, that she's working to unite them all and smooth everything over. You'll see, when we get back there, this time with Trowa and company in tow, everything will be just fine."

Quatre raised his eyebrow at the very wide, very bright grin. "Want to share some of that optimism with me?"

Duo laughed and tilted his head to the side. "Hey, I gotta keep the optimism up, with you two worry-warts always around!"

Quatre felt a light chuckle escape his throat as Heero yanked Duo's braid. He didn't feel all that much better, or all that more confident in what he knew he had to do, but he figured that it would take time to forgive himself. He felt better knowing that at least a few people thought he was worthy of it. He directed his smile at their forgotten guest, moving slightly so Nix could curl up in his lap, but Auda was not even looking at the humorous sight of Duo and Heero playing tug-of-war with the three foot braid. He was staring, quite unnervingly, at Quatre. The blond felt his smile falter and he tensed up involuntarily, but Nix didn't seem worried. To punctuate just how relaxed he was with the probing stare, he yawned and began to purr. Quatre sent an annoyed look to the Desert Cat before Auda finally spoke up.

"You are Tria's betrothed…the young man from outside the Fey."

Quatre nodded, relieved that Auda's hushed but awe-filled voice had garnered both Duo's and Heero's attention. Heero was shifting his posture, coiled and ready should Auda prove to be untrustworthy after all. Duo was still grinning, but Quatre had seen him reach for one of his daggers (Quatre had not really seen the Elf fight yet, but he knew he had skill…the Elf had hunted for dinner more than once with ease that made Heero's hunting look amateur at best.).

"And you travel with the prince of Sive as well…and an Areenjan, one of the fabled Guiders guards you. And, if rumors be true, you are an Empath!"

Quatre winced, remembering months ago when he had accidentally let it slip to the Colony delegations what he was…Sally had threatened them to not mention it but…well, Sally had disappeared along with everyone else, hadn't she? Not much use captured in a Troll stronghold. Auda stood up abruptly, apparently taking Quatre's wince and dread for validation, causing Duo and Heero to rise as well, looks of warning on both their faces. Nix blinked lazily and purred.

However, instead of attacking or something equally unpleasant, and something that Quatre had been expecting, feeling a hand go automatically to his side, where he usually kept his shotels belted, Auda grasped a hand and dropped to his knees in front of him. Quatre sent a baffled look over at Duo and Heero, the former equally as confused while the latter had not paused, resting his sword against Auda's neck. By this time, nearly every sailor in the inn was quite drunk and thus not distracted by the action, but a few were and sloppily jeered at Auda. Auda, however, seemed to not notice or care about any of those factors, just continued clutching Quatre's hand tightly, a look of supreme happiness and wonder on his olive-tinted face.

"Lord Rashid was right! You are our lost heir, a prince of Quattuon! You are a scion of Illrea…may the One take me, I never thought I'd live to see the line again!"

Ah…yes. Quatre had a nagging feeling this was the other option he had considered when the harbormaster had been staring so intently at him; that instead of killing him, Auda would take after another of the desert folk and drop to his knees in a very deferent bow. Quatre looked over at a bemused Duo before he met Heero's frustrated look, awkwardly trying to get Auda to get up off the floor and quit muttering reverent sounding prayers. Heero caught Quatre's eyes and he narrowed his stare at the blond, the wordless question of 'you knew?' echoing in the space between.

Quatre nodded back, feeling even more guilt pile on at the look that crossed Heero's eyes. He really hadn't meant to not tell Heero that he knew and all that it just…if he survived this entire thing, he was going to sleep for a week straight, no exemptions. "I'm sorry, I overheard you and Sylvia and then Sandrock came to me in a dream and verified it…I meant to tell you before but, it just sort of slipped."

"Get that look off your face, Heero. Cat's been a tad distracted lately, if the fainting is any indication…besides, _you_ didn't tell him you knew either." Heero glared in response to Duo's very logical argument. Eventually he huffed and moved to haul Auda to his feet, glaring at the tall man all the while.

"It's not in your best interest to keep broadcasting about Quatre's heritage in the middle of a crowded pub."

"Yeah, Sandrock has been working really hard to keep it a secret; it'd be a shame to undo all her work in a few minutes." Duo smiled pleasantly but his words had steel to them.

As if a switch had been flipped, Auda's eyes were cleared of the fanatical excitement and reverted back to the calm brown, still holding a good amount of respect and awe that made Quatre squirm in discomfort. He nodded solemnly but still grasped Quatre's hand tightly in between his own. "I understand and will take your identity to the grave should you ask it of me, your Highness."

Quatre grimaced and felt his stomach clench. "Really, just Quatre. I didn't even know until a few weeks ago."

"I cannot, my creed and promise as a Maguanac warrior forbids me, but because I see it makes you uncomfortable, Master Quatre it will be."

"But I'm not—fine, but it's really not necessary."

"Aw look, Cat's blushing!" Quatre glared at Duo's teasing face.

"I know that you are on a Chosen journey, Master Quatre, but please, let me be of assistance! I know that you seek the Trian prince, perhaps I can gather information from the merchants who come to port, for some travel very far and wide. Or perhaps this thing about the 'winds' you briefly mentioned earlier, before your fatigue caught up with you…"

Auda kept speaking, amusing Duo to no end, but Quatre went utterly still, not hearing another word. Winds…he had completely forgotten! "Winds! That's it, I figured out what the lady Deathscythe meant by 'winds that do not soar.' Ships! The ships in the Marina, many had the word 'wind' in their title and aren't they sometimes referred as sailing with the wind? Deathscythe was talking about ships!"

"But there are easily thousands of ships that could have a name involving the word 'winds,'" Duo muttered. "It must be more specific than that…but I think, you've gotta be right, Cat! It makes sense; why else would we go to Ares if not for the port…it's the biggest in the Fey."

"Not to mention the airships…those seem a more likely choice. And plenty of them dock here around this time for trading from the surrounding isles." Heero's brows were drawn together in concentration as he began pulling out a few charts and scanning through the notes, no doubt finding something useful. "Still, that doesn't narrow it down enough…"

"I think I might know the ships you are looking for." Every head swung around to Auda, who looked deadly serious and extremely pleased; it was an odd combination. "There are many ships, airships and water ships alike, that use some form of wind in their name…but there are only four airships that are named after specific kinds of winds. In sailing lore, there are legends about the four winds that create each and every billow of wind throughout the world…there are four airships that are named after them for their legacies and the skills of their captains. The East Wind, the South Wind, the West Wind, and the North Wind.

"And it just so happens that each will be docking here within the moon, I've received their couriers and papers already!"

Quatre felt so happy and relieved that he could cry, actually fall down to the floor and start balling his eyes out, but it only lasted for a brief moment before the other half of Auda's words sunk in. "A moon? Trowa doesn't have that time…I need to find him in twenty-eight days…"

"I would not despair, Master Quatre. I expect any of them to begin showing on the horizon…and they are airships, they travel quite a bit faster than you might expect."

"Cat, this is the biggest break we've had since Taurus! The ships will get here in time, I'm sure of it…I actually know one of the captain's pretty well so we'll get all the information we need!"

Quatre really wished he could share in Duo's never-ending optimism, of Auda's happiness or even Heero's renewed focus and drive…but all he could think about was what if the ships didn't come? What if he was wrong, even if he was positive he wasn't, what then? He smiled widely and nodded, trying to absorb some of the certainty, trying to pretend that he was as excited as he had been. He didn't know what was wrong with him…he should be ecstatic but all he could feel was more worry and dread if this was a huge mistake. He rubbed a hand to his temples to try and dispel the surface emotions he felt start to breach his weakening barriers. He really hoped this was the correct path…

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_Who is…_

Quatre started awake, confusion and alarm fighting for dominance on his face. He looked around the room, much like he had when he awoke earlier that evening, but there was nothing amiss. Duo was missing from the room, but that wasn't all that odd, as Quatre could hear a soft melody coming from above them. He had grown used to the idea that Elves didn't sleep at the same rate as humans did. Heero was on one of the cots nearest to the window, calm and poised even in sleep, but Quatre could see where the hand was relaxed around the pommel of a knife under his pillow. Even Nix was still asleep…well, he was, he yawned and blinked his eyes open tiredly almost immediately after Quatre had the thought.

He narrowed his eyes and let out a soft, baffled, sound as he got up, his hands automatically belting his shotels around his waist and pulling his boots over his feet. He crept out of the room, leaving the door open as he shot down the stair, through the empty inn and out into the street, blue eyes scanning all around him…he _knew_ he heard something. Or felt it, or…something. Whatever it was, Quatre did not doubt its validity…and it was coming from out here, from the city, the ground itself. Nix yipped behind him, sounding more than annoyed, more like angry, as he chased after Quatre's footfalls.

…_your enemy…_

Quatre whirled around, feeling, hearing, sensing it again, the presence, the voice that had compelled him out of bed. The pendant was pulsing gently against his chest, almost humming Quatre thought absently, and sending warmth all through his skin despite the brisk, early morning air. He began to think that he was starting to lose his mind as well as his health because of this damn journey, biting his lip and shaking his head ruefully, cursing his own jumpiness, when something moved in the corner of his eye. He turned and saw the trailing dress of a woman, tall and beautiful, staring at him with the ocean behind her. He hadn't even known he'd run that far…

…_enemy…who…who is your…_

She wasn't smiling. Her clothing looked like an odd assortment of different fabrics that had been wrapped around her to form a flowing dress, a lone white strip floating about her bare arms and over her head. Her fanned out behind her in an odd pattern that Quatre did not think was possible, all jagged edges and spikes that defied gravity, and was a silver sheen tinted with blue…though Quatre wasn't sure how much of that was just the swath of moonlight she was standing under. She took a step towards him, her expression coming into clearer view, cold and calculating. Her eyes had no pupils…they were instead a golden yellow that glowed…and the longer Quatre stared at them, the more the world he stood on seemed to tilt and shake.

Quatre took a step back, away from the woman, and groaned as images started to pour through his head…he choked out a breath and found her hand around his wrist, searing his skin down to the nerves. He couldn't move, couldn't look away…who…what was…

Her eyes stared unwaveringly into his own and her lips quirked into a hard upturn. "Do you know?"

Her voice seemed to vibrate on the air. "I don't—I don't know what—"

"Do you know…who is your enemy?"

Quatre stared back at her.

"You do, but don't. Confusion marring the probability of success, of survival. Guilt smearing what should be clear. Tell me, would you like to know?"

_Notstrongenoughonyourowncan'tdothis…notenough…notenough_

Quatre felt his head dip forward of its' own accord, unable to look away from her eyes. "Who—what, what are—"

Her smirk curved further, deepening into her face in a mockery of a smile. "I am all and nothing, possibility and actuary, your death and life…but you can call me Zero."

…and Quatre drowned…

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Duo sprinted after the growling Nix, braid flying behind him, his breath coming out in little puffs in the cold air. Behind him, Heero raced after him, not quite as fast as an Elf, but a damned sight faster than any normal human should be. Nix turned sharply and took off toward the Marina, yipping and letting out an odd noise Duo thought sounded closest to a howl. He wasn't entirely sure what was happening, just that Quatre was not in his bed and Nix was not pleased…and if there was something he'd learned in the centuries he'd been breathing it was that when an Areenjan was upset it was good cause for trouble. Duo shot a glance at Heero, who looked angry, or as angry as his near emotionless face revealed…but Duo had gotten pretty good at reading that perpetually scowling face. He knew angry when he saw it.

Not that Duo really blamed him…he had been awake, _awake_ by Deathscythe's sake, and hadn't caught on to anything until Nix came sprinting, yipping and growling in obvious concern. Quatre hadn't quite grasped just how important he was to the Fey yet…whatever worried the Areenjan was cause enough for dread. He hadn't known the blond young man for that long, but they had grown to become fast friends…he didn't want anything to happen to him. He grimaced ruefully at the foolish thought; by Mortal standards, Quatre was little more than a boy…by Fey standards it was almost laughable how much had been laid on his shoulders when he hadn't even seen his eighteenth year. Duo had been a baby at eighteen…and Heero must have been little more than a toddler.

Nix stopped running at the edge of a shop and waved his tail sharply, halting Duo's movements; beside him, Heero slowed and dropped into a defensive crouch, one hand resting on the pommel of his sword while the other kept his balance. Nix's ears were flat against his head and his teeth bared in a snarl, his usually soft fur needled up into menacing spikes. Duo tapped Heero's shoulder and motioned him to stay and be quiet, which predictably met with argumentative, narrowed eyes. Duo flashed a smile and ignored the dissent, creeping out from behind the building, knowing that there were few creatures who could sneak up without being noticed quite like him. Especially on a Troll.

However, his anticipating grin slipped off his face when he saw what had made Nix so very angry. He froze and his eyes widened in alarm mingled with a good dose of fear as he saw a being he had only encountered once in his life and had swore to have nothing more to do with her…and it certainly wasn't a Troll.

"Zero…"

Heero sprang out from where he was crouching at the name and he narrowed his eyes even further at the calm, cruelly amused woman…well, woman wasn't exactly the right term, Duo thought. No…Zero was more like a god. A very powerful, calculating, and logical god who was more trouble than her name implied. Heero knew just how dangerous she was too…she had tested him just like she had tested Duo…and just how she was apparently testing Quatre now.

Duo felt s spike of fear drive through him as he looked at the blond, held fast by Zero, shaking and his skin aglow…his blue eyes, usually the color of the deep ocean were dull and unfocused…covered by a sheen of yellow. Nix all but roared at Zero, who did not seem concerned.

"Areenjan…I do not fear your master, cease your pointless yowling." She nodded her head at both Duo and Heero. "Shinigami, Heero."

"What the hell are you doing?!" Duo all but exploded the words. His own fear of Zero forgotten was at her nonchalant manner, at how she was unaffected by the small mutterings coming from the blond she grasped…Duo knew what was going through Quatre's head…the guy had enough on his plate right now, he didn't need to be driven mad as well! "Let go of him!"

Zero smiled. Smile was the closest thing to describe what she did, but it wasn't any kind of smile one would want to see. "No. He must finish."

Duo wanted to yell something else at her, but Heero gripped his forearm and yanked him back, his eyes focused on Zero with heated intensity. "Is there a reason you're testing him? Now of all times?"

"Because he does not know who his enemy is."

"That's a load of shit! He knows, we all know, it's Dorothy, she's the one who captured Trowa, 'Fei and everyone in his household!"

"Duo," Heero hissed. Duo glared at him, not appreciating the warning in the tone.

"You are mistaken. He does not know that…she is but one piece of the whole, and not the one he should be worried about. And he must realize this, realize and accept who he is or you will all fail."

"Why would you care about that?" Heero's voice was measured and controlled but carrying a hint of suspicious curiosity with it.

Her hard facsimile of a smile softened a fraction into possibly the kindest expression Duo imagined to have ever crossed her face. "Because even I cannot find the logic in undoing the world."

Nix cocked his head to the side and yipped in obvious confusion. Duo seconded that response. "What are you talking about?"

"Five were needed, five now can reverse. Two are already within her grasp. To save them, it will take three, not two."

Duo threw up his hands in frustration…he hated when gods talked in riddles. "He's too young. You'll end up killing him and then what?"

"Those from the Mortal realms do not measure time as you do…his physical age is as strong as yours was when you were tested. I suggest you sit and wait, he will not be well when he is finished."

Duo opened his mouth to argue further but Heero yanked him down to sit on the cobblestone. "Be quiet. You won't be able to change her mind…she's right, in our terms, Quatre isn't old enough, but he wasn't raised by our terms. He can handle it."

Duo made a noise of dissent in the back of his throat but stilled beside him. "Yeah, yeah…but he shouldn't have to."

Duo stared at Quatre's shaking form, not really caring that he should still be annoyed with Heero for just about everything when the prince's hand wrapped around his own.

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Everything was sort of jumbled…flashing and stinging his eyes before fading away, melting back into a stretch of blackness that stemmed from his feet. He kept seeing faces, faces he knew, faces he didn't faces he knew were dead, faces he wished were…

_fatheririaladyunetreizehildesallyheerodermaildorothycathyduowufei_

_Trowa…where was Trowa?_

Who was he fighting for?

Quatre opened his eyes to his old house, the hovel in Araaban…he could see his father, his sisters…and a woman who could only be his mother. He stepped for them but they dissolved, swallowed up and gone, leaving the barren field and him. Always just him…

No, that wasn't true. He wasn't alone. He knew that, he felt that…so why did he always feel like he should be?

_Tell me, who is your enemy?_

"I—I—isn't it Dorothy? She's trying to kill me…trying to destroy those I love…she's hurting Trowa…"

_So because she takes what is yours, that is your enemy? Because she is after your life? _

"…no I…because she…why isn't that enough?"

_What about those who manipulate your life? Those who lie to you, force you to be something you do not want to be…_

"Everyone…that's everyone…"

_Then…_

Trowa stood in front of him, beside the one of the lakes in Tria, eyes closed, face unmasked. Quatre reached for him but the moment he touched him, Trowa crumbled as if made from glass, shattering at Quatre's feet…Quatre stepped back, shaking his head, ignoring that it was his own hands that were covered in red. "No no no no…"

Images flashed like lightning across his eyes, his father, his sisters, people who he'd never met, people he had, all coming and going too quick for him to fully understand, to digest. Bodies…he could see bodies, the future? It was too much…too much for someone to handle…why did he have to…he shouldn't…

"Quatre, my darling boy, our own worst enemies are the demons we give into within ourselves."

Quatre looked up into a face he could see traces of himself in. She was beautiful, he'd always known she was, and smiling at him, her soft, yellow hand resting against his cheek, bottomless blue eyes that he had boring into him. "Mother…I can't…I'm not…"

"Yes, you are, my dear Quatre, you always have been, just like I always have been. But, just because you are a prince of Quattuon doesn't mean you can't be a poor merchant's son as well. You are you…fight her, prove her wrong. I know you and your strength…you know who and why your fighting, show her." She faded back into wisps of yellow, but wrapped around him, imprinted into his skin, his heart.

_Who is your enemy?_

"My enemy…is…"

Quatre screamed...

…and snapped open his eyes to the cruelly smiling woman…Zero, who dropped his wrist. He faltered and fell to his knees, retching and couching harshly. He felt someone hurry over and steady him, brush his sweat-drenched hair out of his face. He felt as if he had just awoken from a terrible fever, one that robbed him of his strength and perhaps his state of mind, and left a shaking, helpless shell of himself. He didn't know how much longer he hacked up bile, trying to expel an invisible miasma within him, but eventually he was hauled back to his feet, one arm slung around a set of shoulder's that belonged to a very concerned looking Duo. Heero stood on his other side, sword in hand, glancing back at him for a moment, perhaps to see if he was still Quatre…the blond still felt as if he wasn't sure.

"You all right, Cat?" That would be Duo…Quatre could feel bits and pieces of himself coming back…

"I…no, not really…but just give me…"

"Deep breathes through the nose, buddy. Be happy you're not crazy." Quatre would have smiled if he thought Duo was kidding. He did as instructed and felt marginally better after a few minutes, enough to open his eyes and see the woman, Zero, was still watching him, her yellow gaze knowing and penetrating.

"You still have confusion over who your enemy is, but I think you know the one you must defeat first." Her words were vague and abstract but Quatre knew who she meant…he had to overcome his own insecurities first if he was to fight against anyone else and hope to win. "Know this, desert prince, you are composed of your past and present…to ignore one is to weaken yourself. And you will need all your strength, if you are to save who you are fighting for."

She waved her arms back down, bringing in the layers of fabric with her until they wrapped around her in a cocoon. She took another ground moving step and began to leave, stepping out into the air above the water as if there was no difference between air and ground…perhaps to her there wasn't. She paused and looked back at him, back at Quatre.

"When you know who you are, call on me and I will come."

"Wait!" Duo shouted.

"No, Shinigami. He has passed, I will depart. Until a time he should call on me again. Like I said, even I cannot find the logic in undoing the ancient magic that knits the Fey as one. I will fight to prevent that."

"What are you talking about?" Quatre's voice was low and raspy, but Zero seemed to hear.

"The one you call Treize is not wholly Treize. _She_ is manipulating him…if you hope to survive _her_, you will need me."

"Epyon." Heero's tone was low and controlled, but Quatre could feel the ripple of fear it produced in him, Duo, and even Nix. Zero nodded and turned away, fading away until nothing but sparks of yellow were left.

"Epyon is controlling Treize…this explains why he's working with Trolls."

"No…no she was locked away! Are you telling me Treize actually _set_ her free? Fuck, this is not good. I think maybe I know what Zero meant by—"

Duo didn't get to finish his fevered, whispered thoughts though as Auda came running up to them, the rays of the rising sun framing behind him. He didn't look surprised to see them at the Marina grounds, Quatre thought tiredly, still slumped in Duo's arms, words and images from Zero's vision still trickling through his mind…

"You are already here, wonderful! You must have gotten blessing from the Ladies' themselves…the East Wind is in port!"

Quatre, still tired and sick, pushed out of Duo's arms and forced his shaking to an end, his ocean blue eyes once again alit with determination. "Show me."

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Hehe, I used Zero. I wanted to do somethings with the chapter, not sure if I did but I'm happy with the end result. Review! Show my muses you love them and want to feed them! Cheers.

Osco


	15. Chapter 15

Candlelight (15/?)

Author: Osco

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xS

Rating: R

Warnings: Lemony goodness, violence, language, magical happenings, and ugly Trolls attempting to ruin the story!

Summary: Retelling of the fairy tale, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" GW style. What if you made a mistake? What if the person you loved had to pay the price? How far would you go to save him? How about a place that can't exist?

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I am but a poor college student who has no hold over the characters whatsoever and is doing this as a pastime.

**Chapter Fifteen: **_**Winds**_

Throughout most of the way through the Marina, Auda excitedly recounting how the ship had come in early, completely missing the dark mood settled over his four, trailing companions, Quatre kept repeating Zero's word in his head. It disturbed him that he could still _feel_ her presence within him, coursing through his veins and mixing with his own thought patterns…but at the same time, it was useful in a way. He wholly doubted that he would be able to follow Auda towards the _East Wind_, much less process it, if some of her presence had not been left behind. She was devoid of all emotional factors, looking at things through a logic-tinted glass, and while having that mindset still stuck in his head horrified him slightly, it was keeping him from panicking and throwing up again.

Zero…he resisted a shudder. And just a name…Epyon…which had invoked fear in not only Duo and Heero, but the usually unflappable Nix as well. Things seemed to be rapidly spiraling out of his realm of understanding and comfort as the deadline to find Trowa drew nearer.

"You gonna make it, Cat?" Duo's voice was layered with concern and barely suppressed rage. Quatre knew that the rage was not towards him…but towards Zero and whatever fear her words had invoked. Heero was blocked off so solidly that if Quatre didn't feel his hand steadying his elbow, he'd have thought he wasn't there. Neither reaction warmed him.

Quatre nodded, half believing it. "What—why did she—?"

"Not here." Heero growled. Quatre glanced around as various ships awakened, curious sailors peering over at them, no doubt because they were both a motley looking crew and also being led by a very enthusiastic Auda. He nodded and closed his eyes briefly, quelling another stab of nausea. He swayed on a step but Heero's hand tightened around his elbow, joined by Duo's arm once more, discreetly, sneaking around his waist. Between the two of them, Quatre was hardly holding up any of his own weight, which he might have found embarrassing if he didn't feel so completely awful.

Besides…they both seemed to know what he went through…Quatre felt a stab of sympathy for them both. No one should have to feel that, see all of that.

The sun was still low in the sky when Quatre found himself in front of a sleek, wide ship, the wood dark and mingled with slats of silver iron. While many of the ships in the Marina were more or less what Quatre had expected in a ship from what he had read and pictures he had seen, there was no way to classify the airship before him as such. While it had a prow, a deck, masts, and other features all like a sea-baring ship, there the similarities ended. The sails shimmered and seemed to be of an entire different material than cloth; there was more side paneling and gizmos along the hull, which Quatre could only assume were meant to help balance it in the air, and a very large set of sleek cylinders at its rear. It looked like a ship but wholly set apart, as if Quatre was looking at two levels of machinery from different times meshed with one another.

"Beauty, ain't she? Not many airships in widespread use yet, mainly because they require exceptional captains and crews to fly, but the few that are out there make you pause. Elven crafted of course, only their engineers can dream up things like this and expect it to work! Most merchants still prefer sea-traveling ships but still, amazing when you see one of them take-off."

Quatre felt a small smile tug at his lips, despite all that had happened, at Auda's honest appreciation of the air ship. The smile he sent him was almost blinding in its passion. "Have you ever traveled on one?"

"Ah, no Master Quatre, but I'm still young, eh? Plenty of time for that later, but for now I need to get the captain of the _Higashi no Kaze _to get his royal ass out here! Oi!" The rest of the tall man's words were lost on Quatre as he began shouting out to one of the tan, almond-eyed deckhands in a rapid, flowing language.

"_Higashi no Kaze_?" Quatre asked. He still felt weak but he could feel the remnants of Zero leaving him for the time being…which was fine by him. He didn't mind putting her words and warnings from his mind for the time being.

"It means 'East Wind,'" Heero replied. He smirked over at Quatre's still questioning glance. "I'm from where this ship calls home."

Quatre still frowned and Duo blew out a sigh when he saw Heero wasn't going to elaborate. "Jeez, be a bit vaguer, why don't ya? One of Heero's parents was from Sive while the other was from Eastern Fey, some nation that's got a weird name, I don't know. Anyway, the main point of the story is that he was raised in Eastern Fey until he was, what, like twenty summers…which is like a really young kid in your terms. Then, when he came back, Wing showed up and chose him to be the prince of Sive, but the Lady only knows why! Not the most communicative monarch around."

Heero glared at Duo, most likely for the last teasing comment…Duo just smiled back.

Quatre opened his mouth to ask why Heero came back, genuinely curious when he could feel the nostalgia coming from Heero at the sight of the ship and the crew, but a loud voice from the deck stopped him. A somewhat short, but brawny man in dark red and yellow silks poked his head over edge, scowling and looking generally quite irritated at Auda's smile. He whirled around and disappeared for a few minutes before reappearing on an angled gangway that protruded from the airship to the Marina, silver and sleek like the ship itself. As the man, who Quatre could only assume was the captain, grew closer with each measured, confident step, Quatre could see that his face was withered from wind and salt under his black beard and eyebrows. His hair was pulled back tightly from his head, as Wufei was sometimes wont to do back in Tria, and tied back into what Quatre could only call a knot. His hair must have been quite long for it to be that intricately knotted, Quatre thought.

He stopped in front of Auda and bowed stiffly before glancing cursory over at the trio, lingering on Quatre, staring at his hair for a moment. He began speaking rapidly to Auda, irritation and a sense of rudeness rolling off him and into Quatre's almost nonexistent shields. Auda responded calmly and just as quickly, gesturing to Quatre and drawing the man's attention once more, before pausing, obviously waiting for the captain's answer. He was silent for what felt like an infinitely long time before he nodded solemnly and motioned his hand at Auda, muttering something. Auda smiled and looked at Quatre.

"Master Quatre, may I introduce Captain Hiroshi, the master of the _Higashi no Kaze_. He'll hear any of the questions you may have for him."

Quatre nodded and shrugged out of the steadying hands and took a deep breath, willing his voice to remain steady in the face of this captain. "Captain Hiroshi, I've been sent here by the Lady Deathscythe, and before by the other Great Ladies, to ask you if you know of someplace that can be East of the Sun and West of the Moon…or if you would know of someplace where Trolls are located near Ares."

The captain narrowed his eyes and looked over at Auda, but it was Heero who spoke up, speaking to the captain in the same rapid language, no doubt translating all of what Quatre had said. The dark eyes narrowed further and he shook his head, firing back his answer and drawing a scowl from Auda in the process. Heero's eyes hardened, but that was the only evidence of his displeasure at the captain's answer.

"The captain says that such a place cannot exist and you are a fool to search for it."

Quatre smiled and nodded his head toward the captain. "I might be, but I won't stop searching." He turned towards Heero. "Ask him about the Trolls. Maybe he knows something about that."

Heero nodded and repeated Quatre's question, earning an annoyed snort and dismissive gesture in addition to another set of quick words. "He says that he does not bother himself with the business of Trolls, but because Romefeller is not far from here, he wouldn't be surprised if there were outposts of Trolls scattered in the surrounding seas near here."

Quatre felt a bitter weight settle in his stomach at the captain's answer but didn't allow his disappointment to show. He was used to this…still, wasn't this why Deathscythe's sent him here, to ask the captain of the 'winds' if they knew where Trowa was? "Thank you for your time, Captain Hiroshi."

The captain nodded stiffly and marched back onto his ship, shouting out what sounded like orders and threats to his eavesdropping crew, who all scuttled back to whatever they had been doing before. Duo let out a noisy sigh and settled his hands against his hips as he glared at the captain's retreating form. "Well, it's no wonder you're so grumpy all the time, Heero, if that's where you're from! Aw hell, forget him, Cat, I don't think the _Higashi no Kaze_ has been flying that long anyway, and there are still three more airships that Deathscythe could've meant. Hey, Auda, how long do you think until the next one shows up?"

"I have no way of telling, Shinigami." The harbormaster shrugged his tall shoulders as they all made their way out of the Marina. Quatre could not have been more relieved…his vision was starting to get a bit fuzzy and all he wanted to do was lie down. Not sleep, because he was pretty sure his dreams would be anything but pleasant, but just lying down would be nice. "Any of the other three airships could visit anytime, it's the busy season for trading around Ares, and most expeditions use our port to restock before heading southeast, since Romefeller is less than hospitable to most."

"What is Romefeller?" Quatre asked. It was the second time he heard the name that morning, and it sounded like it was another nation within the Fey.

"It's the Troll nation," Heero replied. "It's not a safe harbor for most countries and kingdoms and regards nearly all of Fey as its own. But, they're not viewed as a threat because their naval power is lacking and for them to reach most of Fey they'd have to cross a number of seas."

"If Romefeller had its way, my people would be destroyed and yours would be little more than slaves. Not the most pleasant bunch." Duo grinned and bent his arms behind his head. His smile was light, but his eyes were not…Quatre turned away and steadied his breathing; he really didn't want to inadvertently peek on why Duo would feel that darkly about the nation.

"So, Dorothy is from Romefeller…wouldn't that be where Trowa is then?"

"Unlikely. Trowa is a prince…it'd be considered a declaration of war if he was found within their nation, and there are plenty of spies in Romefeller, it wouldn't stay a secret. Romefeller may be primarily composed of brainless idiots but the ruling government is not. Dorothy is most assuredly not. They wouldn't be so bold unless they had a military advantage which they don't…at least for now. It would all change if Dorothy was named princess of Tria."

"But doesn't Treize have a military force?"

"Yeah, but he's busy taking over other human nations right now…remember, you'd need one big naval force to launch anything on Romefeller, or vice versa. And believe me, the Elves have got one hell of a naval force."

"Oh…well, at least that rules that out." Quatre could see the inn…almost there. He heaved out a tired sigh as they made their way inside. Quatre looked dubiously at the stairs that led up to their rooms, seriously doubting his ability to deal with stairs at his present state, but luckily the decision was made for him. He had missed Duo's whispered conversation with Auda while he had been contemplating his method of attack on the stairs, but he really should have expected the burly, olive arm to take on virtually all his weight and practically carry him up the stairs. He just sighed though, a little disappointed that he couldn't even muster the energy to scowl, and was more grateful than anything when he felt the cotton of his bed under his hands.

"I am sorry, Master Quatre, I did not realize you were so unwell, I should not have—"

"Don't worry about it, Auda…I'm just a little tired." Quatre was sure he wasn't that convincing, as he could hear his own words slurring. He closed his eyes and lifted his hand weakly when he heard Nix yip and hop beside him, stroking his fur softly. He heard Duo, or what he thought felt like Duo, snort at his own self-assessment before his body decided it had just too much excitement for one day. He vaguely wished he could have held the sleep off for just a bit longer…held off the nightmares he knew were waiting…

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_Quatre blinked his eyes open, staring up at a hazy, periwinkle sky, once again in the very familiar landscape of the dreamscape field. He was lying down on his back, a gentle breeze tickling his hair across his forehead and the loose clothing he was wearing. He sighed and closed his eyes…so much for nightmares. But, considering how he'd been told how this medium wasn't necessarily safe, he wasn't exactly cheered to be here. _

_Nor was he very cheered to feel Sandrock peering over at him. He really wasn't in the mood for her kindness or affection…or more riddles he didn't understand._

"_Wishing I wasn't here won't change the fact that I am or that you are."_

_Quatre did not open his eyes or sit up. "Did you call me here?"_

"_No. You came on your own…I just waited here for you."_

_Quatre sighed and rolled up into a sitting position, narrowing his deep blue eyes into eyes that mirrored his own. "Is it too much to ask for just one night where I can sleep normally? Where I don't lay awake from restlessness or have to deal with all of this when I actually do fall asleep and actually feel as if I'm refreshed in the morning?"_

_Sandrock smiled at him, her withered face looking sad, pure white hair bounded back in a single braid. "You've met Zero."_

_Quatre snapped his mouth shut and looked away sharply. He did not want to talk about that. Sandrock, however, was not deterred, sitting gracefully beside him, looking fragile and petite in her great age._

"_You know, she tested me as well, when I was not much older than you. I hadn't wanted to accept what I was and what I had the potential to do, I just wanted to stay by my beloved sister's side…we were twins you know, but she inherited the more traditional Quattuon gifts so she was chosen as the heir. I saw terrible things, Quatre, terrible things. I saw hundreds of deaths, my family's downfall…my own deaths…the deaths I myself would cause, the sad truth of the sacrifices I would make should I choose one future, the genocides and chaos that could happen if I took another."_

_Sandrock placed a tiny hand on his cheek and forced Quatre to look at her. "I know you saw something similar, mayhap worse, mayhap not…but that is what Zero offers those she sees have the potential to shift balance within the Fey. It is her gift and curse to us and she offers us no compassion or mercy because she does not view that as her purpose in existing. But, it is only as horrifying as we ourselves make it. Perhaps our choices do cause catastrophes, you already know this all too well, but in her appearing to us, she shows us how much power we have over our own fates. The future she showed you are paths, paths that may or may not be taken, they are not certainties."_

_Quatre still remained silent. Hearing Sandrock explaining Zero and her own experiences, which mirrored his own, just made him replay all the horrible things he saw…he didn't want to think about it. "She kept asking me if I knew my enemy…that I needed to figure that out if I was going to save anyone."_

"_And did you discover who she meant?"_

"…_myself…"_

_Sandrock nodded and took Quatre's hand. The blond didn't fight her, finally feeling all of his anger, frustration, and reluctance slip out of him. "Yes. You are unable to accept all of who you are, unwilling to see that Quatre Winner, the poor merchant's son, and Prince Quatre rab'rera of Quattuon are one and the same. And, combined with the overwhelming guilt you refuse to let go of, you truly do not believe you will be able to save anyone."_

"_But why did she—why does Zero think—"_

"_Why does she believe you can? Oh, I could not tell you, my dear Quatre…I have no idea how her mind works. But, I can tell you that she is not alone in her belief. All of my Sisters believe in you, Duo Maxwell, Heero Yuy, your Maguanac Auda, Trowa…all believe in you. What you must understand about Zero is that while she horrifies you, her truth is ugly and harsh because it is whole, she gives you a strength if you accept her truth for what it is and what it reflects within you. In showing you what you must overcome within yourself, she has given you the power to make sure it happens, because you know have the knowledge of what could happen should you not."_

_Quatre sat still, trying to absorb all of what Sandrock was telling him, explaining to him. Was…was it really as simple as that? Was that all Zero had been doing…trying to show him that in order to overcome his enemies he had to overcome the one within…was that what the image of his mother had been trying too…? "Is it really that simple?"_

"_Of course it's not; it takes a lot of courage and strength to accept the truth of who you are and that your actions have consequences that resound throughout the world. But if there's something you've got in droves, Quatre, it's strength and courage. Have a bit more confidence in yourself, and trust that who you are has not changed…just perhaps the awareness of your influence, which will be useful in the near future."_

_She rose to her feet, her great age virtually melting away and leaving a small, very young girl. She smiled at him and took his hand in her small one. He smiled back and lay back down. He still felt uneasy and the horrible images and feelings of failure and guilt were still a close friend but…maybe he really could do this. Maybe the poor merchant's son and the prince of a nation weren't impossible to imagine as one…maybe his guilt over his past actions could be eased through his own action…maybe everything really would work out. He closed his eyes, still feeling the small hand in his own and drifted away into dreamless sleep. _

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Another six blossoms withered away on the staff, six days gone leaving Quatre with twenty-one days left, before Auda came bursting into the inn, a wide grin spread across his tan face. Quatre and Duo had been immersed in a game of chess, which Duo was losing horribly once he discovered that Quatre was practically a chess god and whining loudly, while Heero had been reading, Nix resting beside his bent arm on the table, eyes closed and breathing even. The past few days had been busy, Quatre awakening from his meeting with Sandrock with a true sense of well-being and rest. Duo and Heero had been concerned about Zero and her effect on his already precarious psyche, but Quatre told them both everything.

Every small thing he had been worried about, the encounter with Heavyarms after Dorothy tried to enchant him, his subsequent avoidance of the dreamscape, even if it meant not seeing Trowa, how tired he really was, the guilt he felt he couldn't escape from, all the negative feelings he had concerning his newly discovered heritage, Zero and what she showed him and Sandrock's discussion with him afterwards. All the while, Duo and Heero had been silent, letting Quatre get everything out before they too explained their encounters with Zero. It had been like removing venom from his body and after, he felt better. He still felt as if he was at fault, no matter Duo or Heero's words that he wasn't, but it didn't eat away at him and darken his mind. Instead, he let it fill him with fiery determination to fix everything.

And as for the whole prince thing…Duo's words had helped him start to accept it as not that huge of a deal.

"Who cares Cat? I mean, I was technically one of the many princes of Deux, but that didn't stop me from joining smugglers and becoming a world famous bard! You're not going to suddenly turn into some pompous jackass or anything…you'll always be Quatre to me or anyone else who cares about you, so quit moping about it!" Quatre had paused in light of Duo's admission that he lived in Deux and had been a 'prince' there, but he didn't seem to want to expand on it so Quatre left it be.

After that lengthy heart-to-heart, Quatre had thrown his whole being into searching through Ares for any hints of merchants dealing with Troll smuggling. But, the city was huge and Quatre could only cover so much ground by foot. He spent some time asking any ship in the Marina with the word 'wind' in it if they knew anything either, but none did. He was pretty sure that Deathscythe meant one of the airships named for the Four Winds, but it never hurt to ask. That led to where they were gathered around their table currently, tired and somewhat bored after a day of searching and interrogating (mainly in Heero's case) merchants. Quatre had a bit of headache from keeping his shields lowered so he could read the emotions of the merchants, but beating Duo thoroughly in chess seemed to help.

Auda's loud arrival garnered their attention though. "The South Wind, the _Hawa Kibli_, has just come into port! The captain is waiting to talk with you!"

The three shared a glance while Nix blinked open his eyes lazily, hopping off the table as all three scooted from their table and followed after Auda quickly. It was after dusk, the city awash in the soft light of the fairy lights settled on each corner, the sky deepening from twilight into true night, but the streets were easy to navigate with Auda leading them. They reached the Marina and Auda led them to the same area where the _Higashi no Kaze_ was still tied in port. Beside it was another large airship, the colors brighter and bolder than its neighbor, and its prow was much more pointed. The _Hawa Kibli _looked much more like a ship than the _Higashi no Kaze_ but its cylinders at its rear were smaller and looked more complex, painted in wildly colorful patterns.

However, none of these factors were what struck Quatre the most about the _Hawa Kibli_. No, what struck him most was that it seemed every crew member was a woman. Each were dressed in flowing silks of every spectrum in the rainbow, some revealing while others covered from head to toe. They shouted to each other in a flowing language Quatre faintly recognized. It wasn't quite Araaban and it wasn't like Quattuon's dialect, but he felt like he understood most of what they were saying. Quatre glanced around and noticed many of the sailors had stopped what they were doing and openly admired the beautiful women almost flying in the riggings, their silks blowing in the winds and revealing various parts of their bodies. Duo wolf-whistled and grinned rakishly at some of the women, some of whom shot him a teasing, playful look before continuing on their way. Heero rolled his eyes and smacked Duo upside the head.

A woman dressed in richer, more vibrant colors than the others stepped off the ship and glided herself to the gangway, using her silks to guide her to the ground, much to Quatre's amazement, even with Heero's muttered explanation of how the fabric was charmed to float. She had dark hair and wore it in a single, complicated-looking braid, complimenting her brown skin and upturned hazel eyes. She had many pieces of jewelry decorating her robes, but Quatre's attention went to the scimitar belted at her waist, under the robes. Her feet were bare and she wore a kind of charm around her ankle which jingled with every step she took. She smiled fiercely and gave a small, respectful bow to Auda, then another to each Quatre, Duo, and Heero.

"I would like to introduce you to the captain of the _Hawa Kibli, _Mariam al'Fada. Captain, these young men are the ones who seek your audience." Auda gave bow and stepped to the side.

"Greetings, my friends. Auda has told me of your story and your quest, I would be glad to help." Her voice was heavily accented and lilted on the vowels but was overall quite pleasant. "Please, ask of me what you will."

Quatre smiled and stepped forward. "Captain, I seek a place that is East of the Sun and West of the Moon, or someplace where you might have traveled that would be some kind of stronghold for Trolls."

"Trolls? A nasty foe you're looking for there."

Quatre nodded his head in agreement. "I know, but it's Trolls who have stolen my…they've kidnapped the Trian prince."

Mariam smiled at Quatre and let out a peal of laughter. "Your prince yes? Ah, what a saga of love and devotion! If only we knew the end, eh?" She sobered and furrowed her brow. "A place that is East of the Sun and West of the Moon…ah, but I am truly sorry, my friend, I know not of such a place. However, I do not doubt that such a place can exist under the great Mother Sky. As for the Trolls, I and my crew do our best to avoid such fell creatures. However, I do know that there are a few settlements off shore of Romefeller that have been sending their spies into the deep Fey...but beyond that I cannot be of more help."

Quatre knew his face fell and he nodded in what he hoped was an understanding gesture. The next day, the East Wind departed and two days later, so did the South Wind, taking just a bit of Quatre's hope with it.

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"I kind of forgot because of the East Wind showing up but, I've been wondering…Zero mentioned another enemy, one that was the root for Treize's behavior…who's Epyon?"

Quatre's question was asked the night after the _Hawa Kibli _sailed off and was met with a very tense, dark silence. He felt the curious smile slip off his face and he worried his bottom lip between his teeth at the utterly unfamiliar, dark look that settled over Duo's face. Heero glanced at Duo, a glint and stab of worry echoing in his eyes and through Quatre before he set down his fork and met Quatre's blue gaze. "She's…like Zero but different. She was tested once and failed…but she didn't die, instead she became something separate, something near equal to Zero."

"Well, Zero isn't evil, right? She's just—"

"Epyon_ is_ evil and fucking psycho to boot." Duo's voice was hard and the hate within it almost knocked Quatre off his seat. As if realizing what he was leaking out to Quatre, Duo smiled abruptly and shut himself off from Quatre's empathy. "Eh, sorry about that. Listen, Cat, all you need to know about Epyon is that she's bad news and if she's manipulating Treize, you can bet she's doing it to try and completely destroy everything."

"Why though…why would she want to destroy everything?"

"Because she can," Heero replied. "She is like Zero, but she was once living…she's too Human to hold the power she does, it's turned her mind."

"Yeah, but how is this news? She's been trying to destroy all life ever since she went crazy…but as Zero thinks she might get a bit closer to her goal this time around, I guess it'd be a good idea to keep an hear out for how Treize's little rebellion is going. Don't worry about it, Cat. You just focus on getting Tro back, we'll focus on the rest for right now."

Quatre frowned and looked down at Nix who met his gaze and gave a small nod. He didn't bring Epyon or why Duo seemed to hate her so much up again that night.

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A short three days after the South Wind departed, three more blossoms withered and gone to leave fifteen days until all the blossoms were gone, Quatre was startled awake by a very excited, very alert Duo shaking him out of his sleep. He glared tiredly and smirked vindictively when, after attempting to do the same to Heero, Duo was thanked with a resounding punch to his head. Quatre groaned and sat up, despairing when he saw the sun hadn't even crested the horizon yet, turning his grumpy glare towards the smiling Duo. It wasn't natural for someone, Elf or not, to be so goddamn affable and awake at this hour. Heero growled, not unlike his wolves were wont to do, and got up, belting his sword across his waist after he changed his tunic.

"What?" Quatre yawned and rubbed his hand across his eyes. Nix was up as well and looking equally alert, much to the blond's annoyance.

"Well, Mr. Grumpy, I thought you'd like to know that the West Wind just pulled into the Marina. Auda was practically pissing himself in excitement, but if you'd rather get more beauty sleep—"

Quatre didn't wait for Duo to continue his teasing, jolting out of bed and hurriedly pulling on a pair of boots. He didn't care if he was still in his loose tunic and breeches from sleep, throwing his cloak over everything and grabbing his staff as he hurried out the door. The three, plus the trailing Nix, made their way to the Marina in no time, quite used to the path after traveling it nearly every day, and found Auda waiting for them outside, guiding them to a large airship that looked more polished and sophisticated than the previous airships Quatre had seen. He looked over at Duo, who was smiling in an anticipatory manner before looking back to the ship, whose crew was up and about, some waving in greeting to them…no, to Duo. Quatre looked closer and saw that every crew member had pointed ears and high cheekbones, each one equally attractive as the next.

"The _Viento del Oeste_, or West Wind…the captain's a bit of a romantic, likes all the sensual languages from the southwestern seas," Duo smiled.

"Do you know the captain?"

Quatre didn't get a verbal answer but he didn't need one. "Duo! You sly dog, you didn't tell me you'd be in Ares this season! You keep you skinny bones there, I'll be right down."

No sooner than the amused voice shouted, a tall, handsome Elf lowered himself down from the airship by use of a pulley from the airship. He wasn't dressed in elaborate clothing or even wearing any kind of important insignia, but by the way he carried himself and how his crew members treated him, it was obvious that he was the master of the airship. He had short brown hair, held back by a leather band and his tilted eyes were deep brown and a mischievous smile that made him look a bit like a rogue. Duo smiled widely and met the captain halfway, both exchanging brotherly, affectionate hugs and speaking rapidly in what Quatre could recognize was Elvish. Heero, who spoke enough to understand most conversations, relaxed the tense stance he had adopted the moment Duo hugged the other Elf and he rested his hand against the pommel of his sword calmly.

Duo laughed and clapped the taller Elf on the back, turning the captain towards Quatre and spoke in Common once more. "Cat, I'd like you to meet the captain of the West Wind, the _Viento del Oeste_, Solo, an Elf I've had the misfortune to have known since we were just kids. And Solo, you already know Heero, but I'd like you to meet Quatre Winner. He's Trowa's fiancé."

"Ah…so is this the blond _seraphim_ that had Taurus all in an uproar? The one who summoned the renowned Shinigami back to the city with his violin and lullabies." The captain, Solo, smiled rakishly over at Quatre, who felt a sudden flare of embarrassment rise to his cheeks. "Tria is truly fortunate indeed, isn't he? Makes me wonder if I should start searching the Mortal lands for a new _paramour_, if this one is any indication of their beauty_._"

"Quite teasing him, Solo, he wouldn't give you a chance anyway, as you said, Tria is _very_ fortunate and that's why he needs your help. Lady Deathscythe sent him to ask the captains of the four airships named after the Four Winds if they might know where Trowa is."

"Well then, ask away, _Seraphim,_" Solo smiled. He stepped close to Quatre, making the blond grimace in discomfort, because apparently the captain did not believe in censoring his feelings and his attraction to Quatre was very apparent, but he maintained his poise.

"It's just Quatre. I'm looking for a place that is East of the Sun and West of the Moon…but mainly I'm looking for someplace that could be a stronghold for Trolls, like a castle or fort."

Solo's smiled deepened, revealing playful dimples, sweeping Quatre's hands into his own, drawing him closer. Quatre glanced over at Heero and Duo, the former looking annoyed but still amused while Duo was laughing and sticking his tongue out at him. Quatre glared back, promising revenge for Duo's refusal to help him…traitor. He felt a whisper against his ear and he scowled deeper in annoyance; it was still much too early to fend off perverted captains in Quatre's opinion. "And what will you give me for what I know?"

"How about I not make a eunuch out of you?"

Solo laughed and stepped back. "Oh, the _Seraphim_ has got claws, doesn't he? And here I was hoping for a kiss."

"I'd be careful if I were you, Solo, Cat's pretty deadly with those shotels and he's got an Areenjan to back him up if needs be." Quatre rolled his eyes at Duo's gibe.

"Ah yes, I know a lost cause when I see one, for you are hopelessly in love with Tria, a beautiful thing. Ah yes, your questions…well, I am sorry to say I know of no Troll settlements outside of Romefeller where your prince might be, for I steer clear of all routes close to Romefeller…my crew and Trolls do not usually get along and I prefer to not battle in my airship if I can help it."

"Oh." Quatre swallowed down a very panicked sense of disappointment…this was the third of four ships…that only left one left, only one that might know where Trowa was. He clenched his hands tight to try and stop their shaking.

"However, I have heard of a phenomenon of a place that can exist east of the sun and west of the moon." Quatre inhaled sharply and looked up, dead straight into Solo's brown eyes. "When I was young, one of the Elders, an Elf who had seen much of the Fey and its magics told me a story of a journey she took as a youngster. She was possibly one of the oldest Elf's I have yet met to this day, her age visible and her hair white and frail. She told me of a rare phenomenon that can happen, only within the Fey, at a certain time of fall, which we just so happen to have started yesterday. She told me that there were places that could appear to have the sun and moon dancing in reverse, if even just for a moment…and those places were islands deep in the ocean."

An island…Trowa was on an island. He let out a breathless sort of laugh, a smile stretching across his face and looked up at the still smirking Solo. Quatre let out a happy cry and crushed the now slightly stunned captain to him in a tight, grateful hug, pressing a kiss to his cheek before he stepped away. "Thank you…thank you so much! I have no idea how I can ever really thank you enough—"

"Just make sure to invite me to your wedding," Solo quipped. He still had a surprise glint in his eyes but he recomposed himself quickly enough. "Now…I think someone owes me a few drinks!"

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Solo and his crew stayed for two days, long enough for Quatre to promise to let the roguish captain know when the wedding was and to be genuinely sad to see him and all his crew leave. And two more days after they left, leaving twelve days left to find Trowa, Auda burst into their room and smiled brightly.

"It's here! The Peacemillion is finally here!"

"Peacemillion?" Quatre asked, a confused look meeting both Duo's excited and Heero's determined faces. "I thought we were—"

"The Peacemillion is possibly one of the oldest airships sailing and its schematics are considered the ideal model for all other airships," Heero began. Duo smirked and finished.

"And because of this, it's had a lot of names and one of them was the _Nordavind_, or the North Wind."

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The ships names are from Japanese, Arabic, Spanish, and Nordish respectively. Ok, here's the next chapter, hope you all enjoyed it! Some new characters introduced next time...but I bet you can guess from the ship's name. Please review and let me know what you thought of it, they feed my soul and are my reason for living! And for those who know the original fairytale...do we see how close we are to Trowa reentering the picture? Rejoice!

Osco


	16. Chapter 16

Candlelight (16/?)

Author: Osco

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xS

Rating: R

Warnings: Lemony goodness, violence, language, magical happenings, and ugly Trolls attempting to ruin the story!

Summary: Retelling of the fairy tale, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" GW style. What if you made a mistake? What if the person you loved had to pay the price? How far would you go to save him? How about a place that can't exist?

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I am but a poor college student who has no hold over the characters whatsoever and is doing this as a pastime.

**Chapter Sixteen: **_**Just as Dangerous…**_

Excitement and desperation were warring within Quatre as he quickly abandoned the lunch he and Heero had been enjoying, following after Duo, who had been none to patiently bouncing on his heels in his anxiousness to leave, creating a very unpleasant swooping sensation in his stomach. Nix yipped and hopped off the table, looking calm and confident and utterly unconcerned that this was literally their last chance, their last shot, at finding Trowa and the rest within the allotted time frame. Quatre felt like glaring at him, but knew it wouldn't make any difference so he opted to ignore Nix's poise, focusing on keeping his own nervousness and mind-numbing fear to a manageable level. The North Wind, the last ship that Deathscythe's riddle had alluded to…Quatre tried not to focus on the fact that if this ship's captain didn't know where an island that could be East of the Sun and West of the Moon, or where Trolls were milling about he was utterly out of options.

If this ship didn't know where to lead him next, he failed.

No, Quatre shook his head and steeled himself as he followed Duo out the door, Heero trailing behind, blue eyes wary and alert as always. He wasn't going to start down that path, not if he could help it. He wouldn't know a thing until he asked and he wouldn't worry about the 'what if' unless he had to. He was supposed to come to Ares…he had to trust the words and guidance given to him and his instincts.

He swallowed another flutter of nervousness and gripped his splintered and cracked staff tighter.

The Marina came into view half an hour later, the bust streets and shops impeding their progress somewhat, and Auda stood beaming, waiting for them. The tall man was outwardly very excited, as he had been on each of the other airships that had come into port, but as Quatre drew closer, he could feel the very strong thrum of worry that coursed through him. Perhaps that's why he felt so sick, perhaps he wasn't blocking everyone else's worry out diligently enough. He tried to focus and separate himself from each of his companions (sans Nix of course) but he there didn't seem to be much of a difference; maybe he was just over-worrying. He almost laughed at the thought…over-worrying about being able to stop Dorothy and somehow save the Fey; he should be throwing up.

Quatre looked around as the airships came into view. He didn't need to know what the _Peacemillion _looked like to know it when he saw it. It was big, very big, but shaped in a manner that made it seem more sleek and powerful than obnoxious. Triangular, it had three powerful engines at its rear and was three-masted, the sails composed of the same shimmering fabric that was common on all airships. The dark, lacquered wood was evenly balanced with panels of a silver metal, creating an interesting color scheme that made it look unique from all the airships around it, older yet bearing a timeless quality that spoke of the vast journeys it had seen. It looked rather simple next to some of the newer airships, but Quatre found that he liked the simplicity. The ship commanded an air of respect and experience that the other airships couldn't match up against; it was easy to see why this airship was looked upon as the ideal even some hundreds of years later.

Unlike the last three airships, whose crews were each completely composed of one race, the crew of the _Peacemillion _was a jumbled mix of all kinds of races, all speaking predominantly Common but slipping into other tongues Quatre did not recognize easily. Some of the crew paused in their duties to look at them, but a woman called out for them to get back to work, striding with an easy grace that Quatre could recognize as Elfish now that he had traveled with Duo for some time. She looked around, in a manner Quatre could only guess was sternly, before she glanced down at them. She disappeared from sight but reappeared moments later, the airship's boarding gangway shooting out from the side, touching down on the pier automatically.

The woman was smirking and tall, her stride long and brisk, almost military in form. She had porcelain skin despite her life on an airship and dark hair that had the sheen of navy blue, cropped close to her head, a longer section overhanging into her face. Her eyes were blue and teasing and her ears were much more overt than Duo's or Sylvia's, both of whose ears were partially concealed by the larger amount of hair they possessed, pointed and long. She stopped in front of them, her clothing fine and certainly dressier than the rest of the crew but it was loose and flexible, and smiled softly.

"Nice to see you again, Ms. Noin," Auda said politely. The woman, Noin, nodded and smiled a bit wider before she looked back towards the other three. "Gentleman, I'd like you to meet Lucretia Noin, First Mate of the _Peacemillion_, Ms. Noin, I'd like you to meet—"

"You know it's just Noin, Auda, and let me guess," Noin interrupted with a grin. "The braided one is Shinigami, any fool would know that. Hello Duo, it's nice to see you again, under slightly better circumstances."

"Hey Noin, I promise this time I'm not trying to hijack your ship!" Duo grinned and flashed Quatre a wink; the blond was not entirely sure if he and Noin were joking or not.

"And the silent, glaring one must be Prince Heero of Sive…last time I saw you, you were quite a bit smaller. I'd doubt you'd remember me but I was at Miss Relena's birthing party, some sixty or so years ago. You had just been named the prince of Sive." Heero nodded.

"You know Miss Relena?" Quatre asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Noin smirked before she looked over at Quatre. "She's our captain's baby sister. And you, you must be Tria's fiancé. Miss Relena sent us a letter after she met you, telling us all a much romanticized version of how you and two met. But, if I remember Cathy's version, it was quite a bit different. But, if rumors can be trusted, Tria's royal family and staff are missing…and you're looking for them."

Quatre nodded. "I am. Please, may I speak with you captain? I was guided here by the Lady Deathscythe and she suggested that a captain of one of the four airships named after the winds might know where I can find Trowa."

Noin cocked her head to the side, her eyes frank and assessing Quatre in a way that made him slightly uncomfortable, and maintained her cool attitude towards his request. Heero's own feelings were cloaked but Duo had forgotten to reign in his emotions once again and Quatre's hands were almost vibrating with his anxiousness in combination with his own. Heero glanced over before he yanked on Duo's braid, his glare conveying silently what he was doing and to stop. Duo, after sparing Heero a glare of his own and yanking his braid back, gave Quatre an apologetic smile and promptly closed off his emotions from the blond. Quatre took a deep, relieved breath before he realized that they were not alone…Noin was still staring but now she looked more surprised and kind than before.

"You know, Miss Relena told us that you were an Empath, but I didn't think she was actually right about that."

Heero's glare intensified, shifting quickly from the almost affectionate glare he usual wore when addressing Duo to one of anger and menace. Quatre once more thanked Allah and all the gods of fey that Heero was on his side when that glare surfaced. "I thought that Sally asked that no one say anything about his abilities, can Relena not follow that simple mandate?"

Noin frowned slightly. "Now, now, don't get yourself all worked up. She only told Zechs and me, and we're both more than capable of keeping discretion when it seems prudent. I swear to you on the Ladies that we haven't told a soul, not even our own crew."

"Don't worry, it's fine," Quatre said hurriedly. He shot Heero a look, silently pleading for him to back down, that it didn't really matter if all the Fey knew about him since Dorothy already did, and thankfully Heero relaxed his menace a bit, nodding his head. "Please, Ms. Noin, you and your captain, this ship, you're the only airship left…none of the others knew where I need to go."

Noin shifted her eyes from Heero to Quatre and softened her stance, glancing upwards before she shot him a smile. "I pity Trowa…I don't know how he'd ever say no to you, a face like that. Of course we'll help…we already knew you were coming. Zechs stopped by a seer in Venti before we came here, apparently you're trying to find some place that's east of the sun and west of the moon and it's important to all of Fey that you find it."

"An island, I'm looking for an island," Quatre nodded, a slight blush dusting his ears and neck.

"One that has a bunch of Trolls crawling all over it," Duo added helpfully.

"And where Dorothy would be," Heero grunted.

Noin was quiet, her brows furrowed in though, and Quatre felt like his stomach was trying to complete complex acrobatic flips; his hands gripped the staff harder. She called out to someone on the ship in Elfish, and tapped her foot impatiently until another figure appeared at the gangway and walked down from the ship to the small party. Quatre's eyes went wide at the handsome, tall man that descended, bright blue eyes framed with platinum blond hair that hung free and reached down to the man's waist. He looked vaguely annoyed but gave respectful nods all the same, settling a smirk over his mouth when he looked at Heero. The stern prince glared back in annoyance.

"You're an awful long way from home, Heero," the man said. He had a deep, husky voice that seemed at odds with his aristocratic appearance.

"Zechs," Heero replied. Quatre glanced curiously between the two before he caught Duo's exasperated eye. The Elf shook his head and rolled his eyes behind Heero's back, making a cutting motion at his neck, dissuading Quatre from asking why these two had such obvious animosity towards each other.

_It's not worth it, believe me_, Duo mouthed, shaking his head again before he poked Heero's shoulder. "Hey there, Zechsy, see you ditched the mask. Nice choice too, it made you look a bit too much like some deformed bird."

Zechs 'hmmed' and gave Duo a look that was a cross between annoyance and amusement before he looked straight at Quatre, his sky blue eyes drilling into Quatre's dark blue. "And you must be the fiancé…I hear you're looking for an island that is east of the sun and west of the moon. Well, I'm sorry but I've never heard of such a place in all my travels."

Quatre felt his hopeful smile freeze and his throat constricted. He could hear Duo's surprised and angry shout and feel Heero's own tremor of denial and frustration, his iron-tight hold on his emotions slipping away for a moment…but mostly, he could just hear an awful ringing in his head. What-what was he supposed to do now? He inhaled sharply and took a step back, blue eyes going hazy and unfocused…Trowa…he'd failed him. He distantly felt a spike of alarm and regret before a strong hand clapped over his shoulder, bringing him face to face with Zechs once more. Zechs sighed heavily and shook his head, a look of slight remorse on his face before he spoke.

"I apologize; I should have been more specific. No, I do not know of an island that is east of the sun and west of the moon…but I do know of an island deep in the ocean where Trolls are holding a number of humans hostage…and where I've recently confirmed is where the Troll witch, Dorothy, happens to be residing."

Noin rolled her eyes as Duo hit Zechs, hard, yelling about freaking them out and his general ass-hat-ness, Heero let out an almost perceptible sigh of relief and the slim blond known as Quatre smiled brighter than the midday sun and pinned Zechs in a tight hug.

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Quatre found himself sitting across from Noin that night in the inn, Zech's crew well inebriated and singing along with Duo's playful and raunchy songs, Heero tersely going over charts and notes with the tall captain. Nix was curled up on Noin's lap, purring deeply and happily full of food. He felt lighter than he had since Trowa had been swept away, lighter since he witnessed his father's murder, lighter than he could ever remember being. They were leaving in two days, leaving with ten days left to find Trowa, and according to Zechs, the _Peacemillion_ would get to the island in just over a week, which left Quatre time to try and come up with some sort of plan.

For the first time, Quatre felt like he might actually have a shot at saving Trowa, saving everyone else, and maybe even saving the Fey. Though, he had indulged in the night's festivities so he wasn't sure how much of the easy confidence was actually alcohol talking. Oh well, he wasn't going to focus on that, he felt good, almost happy, he wasn't about to ruin it.

"You're better suited for that smile, Quatre." The blond looked over at Noin, soaked in her smile and the pleasant hum of emotions coming from her. Nothing specific, just feelings that were enough for him to soak in and feel happier, but not enough to confuse and muddle his own thoughts. "Though, I imagine you've had precious little to smile about the past few months."

Quatre nodded noncommittally, smiling at the Elf's compassionate face. "It's okay…it's not like I have any right to complain anyway. I'll be fine after this is all over."

"Mm." Noin blinked and took a long draught of her drink. "No more camping for a while, uh?"

"Definitely no more camping." Quatre grinned as Noin began to chuckle. They lapsed into easy silence, watching Duo leading the drunken men and women in a loud song, the other patrons would chime in at various parts much to the bard's enjoyment. Noin chuckled again before she glanced back over at Zechs and Heero. Quatre felt a very deep strum of adoration, love, and warmth ooze from her as she settled her eyes over the captain, a smile curling her lips and lighting her blue eyes.

"You know, I think this is the first time I've seen Zechs getting along with Heero. Huh, first time for everything I guess."

"Do you love him?" Quatre blurted out. He looked away and kicked himself (and his admittedly low alcohol tolerance), meeting Noin's amused eyes after a moment, biting his bottom lip and trying to will away the flush of red. "The captain I mean…not Heero or…anything. Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

Noin laughed and perched her face on her upturned hands. "That obvious uh? I won't feel too bad though, you are an Empath. Yes, have been for the last hundred fifty years or so. Would be closer to two centuries if that man wasn't so damn stubborn."

"Oh…is that why Heero and him don't get along? Because Zechs is with you and you're an Elf but Heero won't be with Duo?"

Noin smirked and shook her head. "Honestly, I just think they're too similar to really get along. Though, I'm sure Heero's outright rejection of Miss Relena's affections didn't win him any point in Zechs' books, and Heero resents how Zechs has forged a relationship with me while he still can't get over that Duo would be sacrificing 'immortality' in being with him."

"What? I thought that Heero said that Elves were just long-lived, why would Duo—"

"Sorry, I forgot you're not from here," Noin interrupted. "Elves are long-lived, so long-lived that to most other Fey creatures we live 'forever.' We don't of course, but we can live for ages, and some do. However, our long lives aren't absolute, we can die from disease, from murder, from just about anything others can, time just takes awhile catching up to us. The big thing though is that bonds between Elves are integral to our very souls…we have soul mates in the very literal sense of the term. And, should we enter a bond with another race that isn't long-lived, our bodies will automatically 'let go' of our longevity.

"It's not the horrible thing that lots of other races, and even Elves, think it is. Why would you want to live for so long unless you had someone with you? It took me awhile, but I convinced that stubborn man of it eventually. I've lived long enough already, but it's being by his side that makes me truly feel alive, feel truly happy. I was happy in letting go of the years I would live without him…Heero hasn't quite cottoned on to that yet concerning Duo."

"Why does Heero not want to listen though? It's obvious how much he cares…and vice versa."

"Because Duo is very young. By Elven standards, he's barely more than a child. I've walked this world for over five thousand years and will live naturally for probably another half century…but Duo just recently crested five hundred years. I don't know how Heero's mind thinks but maybe he thinks that should he act on his feelings, it's like robbing Duo of a longer life. Duo doesn't help much either, acting like it doesn't matter when it does."

"I don't think I'd want to live a long life without Trowa, now that I've met him…Duo should just explain that. Simple and straightforward is best with Heero."

Noin laughed again and took another drink. "I suppose that's true. Anyway, it's not really my place to say anything, I'm not close with either."

"Are you implying I should? I've been spending the last month trying not to get in between that…still, I guess if it made them happy I wouldn't mind."

"Only an Empath, I swear. You lot are sure unique."

Quatre hiccuped and nodded. Yeah, he supposed he was.

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_Quatre had a bit if a headache when he opened his eyes. He remembered stumbling up the stairs, with most of the work being done by Heero who had not been amused, and falling asleep to Duo's still pleasantly tipsy singing…now here he was, unfortunately sober and laying in the field he was coming to hate. He sat up with a curse and glanced around, checking if any of the Ladies were waiting for him with those damnable smiles, but found no one. He pushed himself to his feet, wobbling a bit and blinking away his headache. _

"_Hello? Really, I'd really rather just go back to sleep so…"_

"_Well, if that's what you want, Cat."_

_Quatre spun around and gone was the field; he found himself instead in the simple, relaxed room he and Trowa spent their evenings in at Tria Manor. And complete with the room was Trowa, the first time Quatre had seen him in close to a month. The shadow band was still across his eyes but he was smiling gently, dressed only in a pair of loose, cotton pants, his torso bare. He reached forward and wrapped his hand around Quatre's limp wrist, dragging him forward and nuzzling the blond's neck._

"_But I can think of more interesting pastimes, if you're not too tired." Quatre smiled at the tease but he pulled away and stared up into Trowa's covered eyes._

"_Trowa, this isn't real, remember? We're dreaming, and you're captive because I activated the curses. I'm looking for you, with Heero and Duo." He stared at Trowa as his face shifted from confusion to denial and then to a resigned kind of remembrance. He took a deep breath and hugged Quatre tighter to him, silent but offering comfort and love the best way he knew how, through his empathy. Quatre reached up and clutched Trowa's bare back, closing his eyes and burrowing his face in the junction between Trowa's neck and shoulder. They stayed like that for a time before Trowa broke the silence, pulling away and cupping Quatre's face in his hands._

"_You look tired, Cat."_

"_Gee, thanks." Quatre frowned in mock anger but it melted away when Trowa leaned down and covered his lips with his own. He met Trowa's fervor with his own, opening his mouth and accepting the demanding tongue when it licked at his lips, inhaling sharply through his nose when he tilted his head to the side an deepened their kiss. They continued in this vein for a time, oxygen an unnecessary burden that eventually drove them apart, Quatre worrying Trowa's bottom lip with his teeth before placing a soothing kiss over it. Trowa tilted his head upwards and placed one more lingering kiss on his lips before he went back to his desperate clutching. _

"_It's all right if you don't find me, you know that right? None of this is your fault, you don't…I don't, want you to keep searching for me if it gets you hurt."_

"_That's a nice sentiment, Trowa, but you know I can't do that right? You risked everything to be with me and give me everything even when you knew you could get hurt or worse; can you really expect me to just sit idly by while you're in danger? To not take the same risks I know you would and DID take for me?"_

_Trowa was silent, his head bowed and buried in Quatre's hair. "You would've told me not to look for you, if our situations were reversed."_

"_Probably, but would that have stopped you?"_

_Trowa chuckled deeply, sending a thrum of amusement and fire through Quatre, who leaned and met his gaze once more, staring through the opaque shadow band and trying to envision the green eyes hidden. "No."_

"_Well then, there's your answer, your Highness." He leaned forward and pressed his smirk to Trowa's own upturned lips. This felt nice, he thought distractedly, this simmering heat building between them, neither quite taking the dive further. Trowa leaned his forehead against Quatre's and blew out a puff of air into Quatre's face, wrinkling the blond's nose in annoyance. _

"_I think I remember you saying something about trying to visit in the space, but I don't remember any time between now and then. You should know not to make such promises, Cat, not unless you're willing to face the consequences of reneging on your word." Quatre bit his lip to keep in the gasp as Trowa murmured the words into his ear, one of his hands finally becoming bolder in its fleeting touches. _

"_I-I wanted too but I—oh God—but Heavyarms said it might be too—"_

"_Heavyarms?" Trowa stopped his teasing, a feeling of bafflement coursing through him, mingled with a dark sense of foreboding, still keeping his tight hold on Quatre. "When did you see her?"_

"_Here, in the dreamscape. She saved me from Dorothy's spell and—"_

"_Dorothy…she knows you can slip into this space? Quatre, you need to leave, right now! You should've told me, it's too—"_

_Quatre was about to ask what was going on when Heavyarms warnings drifted up to him, what she had warned him about last time…he had forgotten the moment he saw Trowa, happy to just see him again all thoughts of warning and danger had fled his mind. His head darted up to stare into Trowa's tense face, the fear his eyes held only known to Quatre by the emotions he felt from him. "But I usually just wake up, I don't know how to just leave—"_

_Quatre gasped and his hands flew up to the steel-like material that wrapped around his neck and cut off nearly all his air intake, yanking him backwards; his blue eyes went wide. He could see Trowa cry out and try to pull him back, but a dark wind that Quatre vaguely identified as being the wind that swept Trowa away all those months ago swept over him. Trowa disappeared and left the Bear in his place slumped on the ground and seemingly asleep. Quatre wheezed as the band around his throat tightened and he felt a cold, high-pitched laugh in the ear Trowa had been whispering into only moments before._

"_Oh, silly little prince, one would think your last foray into this space would have warned you away. Lucky for me that you're as foolish as you are stubborn. Tell me, does it pain you to see your beloved trapped so tightly? To see him struggle so much for your sake and accomplish nothing?"_

_Quatre gasped and tried to breathe in air to his abused lungs, anything to keep the spots from dancing in his vision. The cruel voice giggled against his ear again, a taloned hand that Quatre could see from the corner of his eye reaching over the drag against his cheek, the sharp edge leaving a line of blood in its wake. _

"_Or perhaps what pains you is not that he vainly struggles, but that he does so for the very person who put him in this predicament. That he loves someone who would betray him all because of a little grief."_

_The bands around his neck vanished, but Quatre found himself tossed into a wall, sliding down while harsh coughs wracked his body as he tried to drag air into his lungs. His throat felt like it had been crushed, he could barely get in enough to hack. He slowly, fearfully, looked up and tried to settle his shaking limbs in the face of Dorothy's ice blue glare and sadistic smirk. She looked fearsome, her long blonde hair almost the same shade as her pale white skin, her dress long and black, her black talons and sharp teeth glinting wickedly at the slender blond. _

"_I suppose I should thank you, desert prince, for all your incessant meddling. I thought Treize was a fool, chasing Ilrea's line into the Mortal realms, but it turns out he'd been correct and I can only imagine the disappointment I would have felt if he had the chance to slit your throat before I did. And look! In mucking up my plans you actually accelerated them and delivered yourself right into my hands, all the while providing the Trian prince with the greatest weakness of all, loss of you. Can you just imagine what he'll go through when he discovers how I stole the life from you in the very place he helped create to be a sanctuary for you both? It gets me excited just thinking about it!"_

_She reached forward and yanked his body up by his hair. Quatre, despite his fear and pain, felt something us fill him, something hot and burning race through his veins and fight against his skin to explode out of him. Something that felt an awful lot like rage, rage that she was hurting so many people, hurting Trowa, for nothing more than her own amusement. Because she could. _

"_Oh, well isn't that a beautiful sight! All this talk of killing you and such and it's mention of your darling prince that gets you irate…and your eyes do sparkle so nicely when angry. Tell me, do you hate me for what I've done to your love? Swept him away and isolated him from the few people he trusts, taunt him and show him horrific visions of what I plan for this world once my curse and my grandfather's curse take full effect? What I plan on doing with your body after I destroy your soul here…you know, you did so enchant my grandfather and his comrades…what do you think dear Trowa will feel when he watches?"_

_Quatre could barely breathe, his limbs would not stop shaking, and he was utterly terrified that Dorothy was going to kill him here when he was so close to finding Trowa all without her knowing. But he was also angry, more angry than he had ever remembered being. Angry enough to disregard how much pain he was in, how his vision was spinning, that Dorothy was very likely going to kill him, and that he was supposed to be terrified. His blue eyes, narrowed and bright, pinned Dorothy to her spot and seemed to choke her condescending laugh in her throat. He reached up and grabbed her wrist and, as if he had meant to all along, forced every ounce of anger, fear, and disgust he had coursing through him out of his skin and slammed it into Dorothy._

_Her eyes lost their mocking humor and her mouth opened in a silent scream all the while Quatre slammed more and more of every, negative feeling swarming around his head into her, determined to make her feel all of what she made others feel. She tried to yank her wrist away but he clamped down harder with a strength that defied how weak he felt. Eventually, she waved her hands in front of her, making a complex sigil, and blasted him a few step backs, collapsing to the ground while he stood standing, his head clear of anger, fear, and most other things that had been taking up space since she had showed up. He stared at his hands and took a step back, the copper pendant around his neck burning so hot he wouldn't be surprised if it had seared into his skin. He closed his eyes and took another step back, wanting nothing more than to just disappear, to get as far away as he possible could and…_

…_he fell…_

…

…and awoke with a strangled gasp in his bed, shaking and cold.

"Quatre! Heero, he's awake, Quatre calm down, it's fine, you're fine." Quatre leaned over and hacked, his throat burning something fierce in the process, grateful for the steadying hands that were rubbing calming circles up and down his sweat-drenched back. "Slow, slow inhales, don't choke yourself; shit, Heero, his neck is all swollen. We need a Healer."

"Stay with him, don't let him fall back asleep." Quatre heard Heero's footsteps hurry out of the room and tried to do as Duo instructed. He felt a stinging pain on his cheek…the same place where Dorothy had cut him in his dream.

"You scared the living shit out of us, Cat," Duo murmured softly, shakily. "One minute you're sleeping peacefully the next you start shaking, like you were having a fit or something and this thing appeared around your neck. Nix was fucking frantic…and we couldn't wake you up."

Quatre wheezed out an exhale and tried to inhale slowly, his head pounding and spots appearing in his vision.

"And then, then you just arched up and sent a huge wave of, I don't know, something out. Flattened me and Heero straight to the floor, I'll tell you that. I had no idea you knew how to project emotions as well."

Quatre tried to say he didn't know he could do that, but all that came out was a harsh gasp so he shook his head against Duo's shoulder.

"Well, you sure as hell can." Duo was silent for a time, and then pulled away enough to stare into the blond's face, his violet eyes serious and critical as he scanned and catalogued. "Dorothy right? You said that Heavyarms told you this could happen…she really did a number on you. Any chance she found out we're headin' her way?"

Quatre shook his head and inhaled slowly, a shallow breath of air replenishing his lungs for a brief moment, the burning sensation subsiding a fraction. He didn't know why, but Dorothy's actions, her desire to kill him where she could reach him, suggested she didn't know where they were, how close they were to finding where she was hiding with Trowa. He guessed perhaps Nix had something to do with that, or maybe Sandrock…whatever the reason, he was grateful for it.

"Well, I hope that you at least got the bitch back a bit for all this…I bet she was surprised to find out who can project as well as intake emotions. And no mini freak-outs, Cat, it's still your empathy, still a part of you. Just maybe now it's got a more offensive use, which is a good thing going against a witch."

Quatre nodded, not really up to dealing with this new twist. Duo's adamant words mingled with the advice Nataku had given him, about not fearing his gift…he shouldn't be surprised that the Ladies knew more about his ability than he did, he guessed. Still, he was still in too much pain, too drained, and frankly too unnerved to think about what his empathy could do, how destructive it proved to be when turned on someone else, to want to give it much thought. And when Heero returned with a harried, very sleepy looking Healer, a portly man who had graying hair, showing his age, he used them as his excuse to ignore it. He'd deal with this when he could actually breathe…that seemed fair enough.

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There's Zechs...he was conspicuously absent my last GW tale. And some het...it's nice to actually write it once in awhile. And Let me just say it...all you 1x2 fanatics who've been ever so patient with me, I reward you next chapter. Also, chapter 1-5 have been revised and the revisions are up. Huzzah! Hope you all enjoyed! Please review and feed my starving muses!

Osco


	17. Chapter 17

Candlelight (17/?)

Author: Osco

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xS

Rating: R

Warnings: Lemony goodness, violence, language, magical happenings, and ugly Trolls attempting to ruin the story!

Summary: Retelling of the fairy tale, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" GW style. What if you made a mistake? What if the person you loved had to pay the price? How far would you go to save him? How about a place that can't exist?

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I am but a poor college student who has no hold over the characters whatsoever and is doing this as a pastime.

**Chapter Seventeen: **_**Isle**_

Quatre took in a deep breath of salty air, leaning against the railing of the _Peacemillion_, admiring the crystalline blue waters below as the airship sailed through the air and clouds with a speed that was at odds with its size. Beside him Nix sat vigilantly, tail twitching and all-blue eyes narrowed, looking quite menacing for his small stature. Quatre smiled at him but didn't bother to try and relax him, already knowing it was a lost cause; Nix blamed himself for the incident with Dorothy and was unyielding in that blame. To be honest, Quatre knew that kind of blame all too well so he left Nix to do as he pleased if it helped distract from the guilt any.

It had been five days since they had left Ares, and six days since Dorothy had nearly destroyed him within his mind. Six days since he discovered how potentially destructive his empathy could be, six days since he'd been forced to reevaluate himself yet again.

Six days left to find Trowa.

He reached up and gingerly felt around his neck, the bruises mottled, yellow, and tender to the touch, but beginning to fade away. He had only recently been able to speak in a voice that even resembled his own. He still had to speak quietly and quite a bit less than usual, but his voice was beginning to return to normal…the same could not be said for his companions. Nix's hyper-vigilance was off-putting to some of the sailors on the ship, as was Heero's intensely protective, guarding demeanor. Even Duo was much more wary, despite his reassurances to Quatre that he knew what happened wasn't because of them, that he knew it was all because of Dorothy.

He smiled down at the cresting white waves against the blue, the fingers at his neck ghosting across to graze the skin of his cheek; he felt the raised but healing cut there, held closed now by small strips of cloth. He really didn't remember much of the rest of that night, confident that the lack of oxygen blacked him out, only reawakening for brief moments until the next morning. He remembered Duo hovering near, singing, hearing something different in his voice; he remembered a portly, harried looking man, perform some sort of complicated hand gestures over his throat before he stuck a tube down it. He remembered Heero glaring all the while, muscles tensed and coiled. Auda had been in and out a few times, he thought, looking increasingly worried each time. He thought he remembered Heero arguing with Zechs but…

Noin and Duo had been there when he rose out of the haze, Heero against the door, Nix curled up beside him, purring and soothing. Noin had explained to him that they were leaving sooner than scheduled, just in case Dorothy did know where they were, and not to worry, that the airship had all kinds of protective charms on it to keep out spell crafters. Heero had explained that he wouldn't be able to speak for awhile, that his throat had been nearly crushed by Dorothy's magic and he was lucky he could still breathe. Duo had tried to lighten the atmosphere afterward, but had given up after only a few meager jokes. Nix had looked so guilty that Quatre had felt his heart break at the sight of him; he had never seen such a look of utter failure…and then Auda had burst into the room, declaring that he was coming as well. Quatre had tried to persuade him out of it, but the tall man had insisted, said it was his duty as a loyal Maguanac soldier of Quattuon to see Quatre through his journey.

Quatre had not really minded they were leaving sooner than previously decided, but he had felt guilty at the look he sometimes caught on the captain's face as they prepared and set sail. That frustrated and somewhat cheated look, as if he had been rudely surprised by what he was getting himself into by agreeing to take Quatre to Trowa. He tried to stay out of the way during those first few days of travel, not wanting to foist off his initial bout of air-sickness on Zechs in addition to everything else. Luckily, Noin had been composed and not nearly as upset about having to ferry them to the Troll island as her captain, helping Quatre regain his voice through vocal exercises and hot, herbal tea and demonstrating her healing skills. But then again, she was over five thousand years old…she was bound to be skilled in a number of different professions.

As if his thoughts beckoned, Noin walked up on deck, her stern face relaxing at the sight of the blond, walking over and joining him. The wind, which wasn't nearly as rough as it had been the first few days of sailing, played with the hair around her face, teasing it away and bringing her pointed ears into sharp relief. Nix glanced up at her but gave no further acknowledgment; Quatre despaired at the drastic change Nix had undergone. He belatedly recalled Sandrock's words to him those months past; Nix was also young and was most likely experiencing his first real taste of self-perceived failure…still, he wished there was some way he could make the little Desert Cat see that his mistakes were forgiven.

"He's certainly not as friendly anymore, is he?" Noin asked. She arched her brow at the little Areenjan before meeting Quatre's gaze. "Poor thing, he sure has a lot on his shoulders."

Quatre nodded in agreement, ignoring the way her eyes drifted to himself when she spoke the words, while Nix growled, annoyed.

Noin made a noncommittal noise before she turned her eyes back to the ocean below. "I've sailed these waters hundreds upon hundreds of times and still, it catches me. It's your first time seeing the ocean, sailing, right?"

Quatre nodded, sparing Noin a small smile. "It's beautiful."

"That it is. You sound a bit better, still raspy but better than before."

Quatre shrugged his shoulders. "How close are we?"

Noin's smile flickered and her First Mate persona took over, stern and calculating. "We'll be to the island within the next three days. Zechs is flying the airship higher than usual to avoid any look-outs that could be watching the skies, a bit more dangerous due to the winds and such but it got us here a lot quicker than normal."

Quatre nodded again and looked back across the water far below them. He felt…odd. He was a mix of anticipation so strong it nearly made him sick, dread for what he might have to face when he got there, fear, anger, overwhelming longing, and a very serious worry about how he was supposed to save Trowa once he got there. He'd been battling a headache since yesterday morning, wondering what exactly he could plan to do to foil the curses and Dorothy, and had come up with nothing substantive. He kept staring at the three golden gifts the Ladies had given him, wondering how they were supposed to help him, hoping that they would suddenly transform into something more useful the closer they got to Trowa. They didn't, which only added fire to Quatre's frustration.

"I hope you're not planning to just go barging in there. No matter what Heero or Zechs might tell you, I promise it's never the best idea." Quatre shot the playful smile dancing on Noin's face an exasperated look, fighting to keep the smile from his own face. "Good…is that what's got that gloomy expression on your face?"

Quatre signed and shook his head. "No, not entirely."

"Hm." Noin did not sound convinced. "Well, if you'd like my opinion, I've found that the best way to overcome a stronger enemy is to have a good plan, something I've heard is a strong suit of yours, and a good plan is usually the simplest one."

Quatre nodded in agreement, not wanting to point out that he already knew that, but he didn't know what the 'simplest' plan entailed when facing against Dorothy and her Trolls. He wished for what felt like the hundredth time that the Ladies had been more specific in what he could do and how the golden trinkets would help…'save Trowa' was now looking woefully insufficient.

According to both Zechs and Noin, the airship would land unnoticed and undetected towards the rear of the island in three days, leaving Quatre with three days to somehow figure out where Trowa was, how he was imprisoned, a way to break the curses, and somehow trick Dorothy into not noticing he was doing all those things in the first place. Three days wasn't a very comfortable time frame, but Quatre wasn't about to grouch about that; he knew he was lucky to even have the three days and it wasn't impossible…just a bit more difficult. Heero had been going over the sketches Zechs' spies had collected as they had observed the island, muttering in low tones over the pen that had taken up permanent residence in between his teeth. Sometimes Duo would join him, listened to whatever Heero told him, a feeling of wistfulness always leaking off him that Quatre had taken to avoiding the two completely.

He blew out a stream of air and wracked his brain again, not minding when Noin left him to his own devices as she went back to her rounds. He looked down at Nix and crooked a grin at the too-serious little cat. "Any ideas able to take form through all that misplaced guilt?"

Nix growled and wrapped his fluffy tail around Quatre's leg, his fur shimmering from silver to dark copper in his distress.

"I don't think that's an option." Quatre cleared his throat and grimaced as the words scratched on their way out. "_I_ need to save Trowa."

Nix growled again but it was more of a concession than a growl of denial. Quatre smiled at the Areenjan and crouched down to stroke him lightly on the head. "A simple plan, uh?"

The question became what would be simple enough for Dorothy not to notice, what would she take no notice of or see as a threat to her person? Quatre imagined not much, not when she was so close to gaining a significant amount of control over the Fey, gaining leverage for the still unmentionable Epyon who seemed to be driving the start of this entire mess. But, if there was one thing Quatre had learned growing up, it was that the more powerful you were, the more grievous your oversights about what could prove a threat to you become. Dorothy had to have something she'd never consider a threat to her, she had to…he just didn't know what…

Quatre's thoughts skidded to a halt as an idea skittered across his mind. He looked around to see if he could spot where Noin had walked off towards but he couldn't spot her…but he looked up and spotted the captain's quarters were alit. He clicked his tongue to get Nix's attention and ran off to Zech's rooms, taking the stairs two at a time and earning curious glances from the crew. He got to the door and flung it open, striding straight past Heero and Duo, who were once again going over the island's maps, and stared determinedly at Zechs.

"Why were you investigating the island in the first place? You said you've been watching Dorothy's movements on this island for awhile, why?"

"Cat, are you all right?"

"You shouldn't be over-exerting yourself, your lungs and throat are still not fully functional."

"Captain, please, why were you looking into her actions on this island?"

Zechs' blue eyes studied him for a moment before he crossed his arms over his chest and growled his answer. "Because there have been a number of disappearances from nearby sea villages and ships in the area. We suspected for a long time there was an illegal slave trade operating out of this island, and we confirmed it a little over five months ago. The kidnapped villagers and sailors are ferried from this island to Romefeller after an intensive 'training' period. Romefeller has long practiced such operations, but we've never been able to expose them…Dorothy's presence on the island helped confirm our intelligence."

"They're capturing people and making them slaves?" Duo's voice was dark and his violet eyes looked nearly black in his anger. Heero looked equally angry, his scowl more pronounced and his upper lips curled back in a grimace.

"Yes." Zechs looked equally thunderous but Quatre's face broke into a wide, deliriously happy grin.

"So, there are hundreds of slaves on this island? It's not just Trolls and the people from Tria Manor? That's great!" The words spilled out excited and fast, earning him dark and surprised looks from each of the other men in the room. Remembering himself, Quatre shook his head, not quite able to get rid of the smile, but looking properly disgusted at the mention of innocent people being made into slaves. "No, not great that there are slaves, obviously, but, don't you see? That's how we can get in, that's how Dorothy won't know to look at us…she wouldn't possibly consider a couple of downtrodden and abused slaves a threat to her! Zechs, you're sure that she doesn't know that you're aware of what the island is?"

Zechs nodded, his own eyes going wide as he started to understand why Quatre was so happy at the news of slaves being on the island. "She doesn't know. We were well hidden during our observations, never sailed close enough for their wards to notice…she would never think that we've stumbled across her operations…"

Quatre smiled even wider and looked back to Heero and Duo, who, like Zechs, were beginning to see the root for Quatre's excited-ness. "See? If we were just another couple of slaves on that island…"

"…then Dorothy wouldn't think to look twice at us, since she obviously has nothing to worry about when the slaves are concerned…" Duo continued, a bright look in his eyes.

"…and we'd be able to move around the island and look for where she's holding Trowa and the others," Heero finished. His eyes were fierce and a smirk settled over his face as he met Quatre's excited nod.

"Damn, that might just work, Cat," Duo grinned. Quatre smiled around a wheezing cough, feeling better than he had in days…they had a plan, now they just had to iron out the details. Nix purred deeply in approval from beside him.

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Nix growled deeply in disapproval that evening when Quatre explained just how they were going to go about the plan, and he was not alone in his disapproval. Auda had practically leapt onto the table when Quatre announced what he and Duo had come up with. Heero grunted but didn't disagree; he knew, despite his personal feelings about the plan that it would work better if only two sneaked onto the island disguised as slaves, and since Quatre had to per the Ladies orders, Duo was the best choice for a second person. Duo remained one of the rare few who could come upon Heero without him noticing, possessing a stealth and uncanny ability to remain unnoticed that the Sive prince knew would be invaluable to Quatre, who he doubted had much experience sneaking into fortresses and strongholds. Heero felt the small beginnings of a smile at the thought of Duo's many stories when he had been with the Sweepers as a young Elf; sneaking into fortresses was as normal as having breakfast for a Sweeper.

"But, Master Quatre!"

"You don't have to do this alone, please let us help back you up."

"I doubt the Ladies sent you here to just be killed because of your misplaced sense of guilt."

Nix growled again amidst some of the other officers, Walker and Otto if Heero recalled correctly, agreements with their captains. He couldn't really blame them…each had lost someone precious to the slavers or to Trolls, it was only natural that they wished to seek their retribution on this mission.

"Now, now, listen up! Cat's not saying that you all just sit here and twiddle your thumbs, he's saying that we need you to wait while we figure out some way to get the rest of you in here to get the people trapped here out. No one will notice a slave or two, but if twenty of us try sneaking in, we're not gonna get much farther than the end of a sword."

"Please, I know how much each of you want to help, and you will, but I need to figure out how to break the curses first. If we save these people but Dorothy still gains control over Tria through Trowa, it will have been a complete waste. Once we know how to break the curses, we'll signal you to storm the island. Dorothy is supposed to marry Trowa in six days, and I'm sure the security will be hard to break any time…except during the wedding. That is the chance for you to all get on the island with little resistance and without the Trolls using the slaves as their collateral to prevent your attacks. I have a feeling that Dorothy will want to have all eyes one her that day."

Heero cocked his head to the side and admired the way Quatre calmly and rationally convinced each of the others in the room, Noin, Zechs, the officers, Auda and even Nix to his plan, despite the obvious danger it suggested and the weak rasp his voice still held from Dorothy's attack. Heero knew what each of them saw, except perhaps Nix, when they looked at the blond; they saw a young man barely more than a child who was slender and short, too attractive for his own good, and had never really experienced much combat or danger in his simple life.

The poor, lost prince who was to be protected because he couldn't hope to do it on his own. It was what Heero had seen when he first met him, what he still had thought when the blond had shown up, desperate, in Sive.

But Quatre had proved multiple times that while he was each of those assumptions, that wasn't all he was. He was determined, clever, and learned quickly. He didn't complain of his own pains, had the ability to think on his feet, and compassionate and forgiving of nearly any faults besides his own. Heero respected him, respected his decisions and his honesty, his trust in his own emotions. He didn't like sending him and Duo into such a dangerous situation, but he learned enough about Quatre these past few months to know that they could both handle it. Besides, Heero knew there was little possibility of anyone trying to convince the blond of not risking his life with Trowa so nearby. He glanced over and caught Duo's eyes; the Elf's smile blazed into his skin.

"It's pointless arguing about this. It's a good plan, and will work as long as both are careful." Heero's blunt statement drew a few glares but no one spoke against his logic. "As long as they both promise to not take unnecessary risks, and to signal us when we need to move on the island, I see no problems with their plan."

Heero stood up and looked into Quatre's deep blue eyes, wide and grateful. "So, do you? You won't do Trowa any good dead or captured."

"Of course we won't. I promise, only what's necessary."

Heero nodded and looked at Duo, who had a rather baffled expression on his face. "And you?"

Duo stared at him for a moment, eyes questioning and more than a little taken-aback, before he nodded, a wide grin on his face. Heero gave a cursory glance towards Quatre, who always seemed to have the unfortunate luck of getting unwanted glimpses into his and Duo's heads, before he headed out of the room, the rest of those present converging on the somewhat nonplussed blond with warnings to do as Heero said. He stalked out until he reached the foremost deck on the _Peacemillion_, hand resting on the sword he kept belted on him at all times, head tipped back to look at the stars winking back at him merrily. Up so high and above the sea, the stars looked like bright diamonds on black silk, as if they were an ocean themselves.

He had no idea what possessed him to single out Duo the way he did. Well, he had more than an idea of why, but he had firmly pushed all of that down…it was irritating that no matter what he did, he just couldn't seem to control his emotions around the damn bard. He never could…he heard a very familiar voice call out his name and he rolled his eyes upward, inwardly cursing himself and his ancestors.

"Oi! I'm calling you, quit ignoring me you damn wolf, I know you can hear me!"

Heero sighed heavily and turned around, staring straight into the face of his doom; Duo's eyes were bright and damn near sparkled with confusion and frustration, and in only the soft light from the ship and stars, he looked more attractive than he usually did. Heero took a moment to curse the Elven race as well. "Oh, good, your ears do still work, damn bastard. Now, want to tell me what the _hell_ that was?"

Heero decided aloof and indifferent was the best approach to angry Duo long ago. "What 'what' was?"

Duo's eyes narrowed and he clenched his hand his sides. "Don't treat me like I'm an idiot, Heero, not in the mood right now. Why did you feel the need to single me out and ask whether I would not take stupid risks after you asked Cat? Did you feel it necessary to relay your lack of faith in my abilities or judgment to everyone in there?"

Heero scrunched his brow together…this reaction was not what he intended or thought would come about. "No, I wasn't—"

"Because, of course, I haven't done anything like this before and need to be told to exercise caution so I don't get myself or anyone else killed."

"I didn't—"

"I just don't understand why you felt the _need_ to completely undercut my abilities, which are pretty damn good let me remind you, ask yourself who got who out of that sticky situation during that Taurus festival when you 'mistakenly' insulted that duke's daughter again, in front of everyone nay-saying the damn plan, which you agreed is a good plan, and—"

Heero wasn't exactly sure what compelled him, because it sure wasn't his common sense, but he moved on instinct alone, wrapping his hand around Duo's braid and yanking the ranting Elf forward until his lips pressed against another pair. It was really nothing but a touch of lips, Heero rationalized to himself when he pulled away just as quickly as he had came forward, but the profound look of puzzlement crossing Duo's face made him dread the worst. Duo's brows furrowed and he opened his mouth a few times as if he wanted to say something, but nothing ever formulated enough to overcome his confusion. Heero felt his skin start to itch under Duo's stare and he decided it was probably best if he just left, put this whole incident from his mind and act as if it never happened.

He began to pivot his body to leave when Duo finally found his voice. "You are one confusing Human, Heero." Heero looked back despite his misgivings, meeting Duo's still furrowed expression, not backing away when the Elf stepped forward. "I mean, you act one way and say things but…but then you go and kiss me on an airship when were involved in what has got to be the most epic love story ballad in the making, which I am _so_ composing if we survive all this, under the stars. Normally, I'd know what all this meant but with you I…you confuse the hell out of me."

Heero weighed the pros and cons of speaking and deemed it prudent he remained silent.

Duo laughed in a helpless, breathless sort of way and cocked his hips outs, resting his hands on either side, looking the epitome of loving exasperation. Heero hated how that made his skin tingle even more. "How about we try this again, no more lies, no more ranting, and no more kissing from you. Why did you single me out, when I know you know I'm the best one to guide Cat through this?"

Heero glared, hating how Duo knew and he knew.

"Come on, 'Ro, tell me why." Heero did not think it was at all entirely fair for Duo's eyes to be so wide and vivid.

"What's the point? I've already told you that we won't—"

Duo shook his head and took a step closer. "Answer my question. Why?"

Heero was trapped, utterly and hopelessly trapped in his damn Elf's gaze. The words slipped out before he could think to stop them. "Why do you think, idiot? Because I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Why?" Duo smiled. He was entirely too close now, but instead of backing up, Heero wound his hand tighter around the long braid. "Because you love me."

"That doesn't make any difference, I won't let you—"

"But that's just the thing, I want to, and if I want to, even if you try, you won't stop me. What's the point in living thousands of years if I don't have you to annoy and fluster? Won't be nearly as much fun…come on, Heero, quit fighting this! No matter how much you frustrate me, no matter how much you run, I won't ever quit…and you'll never be able to forget."

"Hn." He was right, by the Ladies he hated that Duo was right. He didn't want to condemn him to death, steal him away when he could do so much better, allow himself to feel as much as he did about the reckless, free spirited Elf. Because it was too much, all of what he felt, too much to control, too much to keep still, too much that would become uncertain. Still though, that didn't change the fact that Duo was right…his hand yanked forward until there was scant space between them; Duo grinned brightly, brighter than he'd ever seen. "You'll be careful."

"Yes, Heero, yes already."

"And you'll make sure Quatre doesn't forget to be careful?"

"Hmhm." Heero tilted Duo's head back with a sharp tug.

"And you won't ever regret this? Ever, even when your time comes?" Duo laughed and forced Heero's head down.

"Finally, yes!" Duo planted a very enthusiastic, very happy kiss on Heero; the prince found no better response than to kiss him back.

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Quatre was nervous; beyond nervous…really, he was closer to terrified.

He could see it, could see the island, could see the tower he'd seen in his dreams for the past four months…and his stomach was queasy from the steep descent Zechs had guided the ship into. He clutched the railing tighter, continued staring and hoping, praying to Allah, the Ladies, and anyone else who would listen, that he could pull this off. He took a deep breath and blew it out in a steady stream, calming his quaking nerves. Nix yipped beside him and Quatre nodded, letting all the determination, anger, and love he had for Trowa fill him. He headed down into the ship, where he knew Duo and Heero already were with Noin.

Quatre grinned wistfully at the thought of Heero and Duo. They had finally, _finally_, come to some sort of mutual understanding and were both happier than Quatre had ever felt them being before. True, he did feel a pang of want at watching them, wishing he had Trowa back already, that he had never lost him in the first place, but mostly he was just relieved. He enjoyed watching them…he thought they were wonderful together, their emotions complimenting each other seamlessly. It was relaxing for his increasingly-taxed empathy.

He pushed open the door to Noin's private quarters, which she had converted to a kind of staging area for Duo and Quatre. They had been practicing slave habits, commands and responses, and Heero had been guiding them through the maps of the islands, cramming every possible nugget of information into his head in the two days it took them to reach the island. Now, whether he was ready or not, they were landing near an abandoned portion of the island and Quatre's countdown to somehow save Trowa had begun. He smiled at Duo as he entered, watching as the Elf meticulously pinned back his braid so that his hair, while quite shaggy, didn't look long. Heero nodded and went back to detailing which paths for them to take into the citadel, his gaze focused and fierce. Noin grinned at Quatre and led him over to where she had an assortment of ratty looking clothing.

"Is this what we'll be wearing?" Quatre's nose wrinkled despite himself, but Noin didn't seem to mind.

"Yes, you won't look out of place in this." Quatre nodded that much in agreement. He grabbed a pile of the clothes and hurried behind the curtain to change into the coarse, foul-smelling fabric. Once changed, and looking like a poor vagabond, Quatre came back out, surprised to see that Duo was not only changed into the slave clothing, but also looked completely unlike himself. His ears were completely hidden under his hair, which looked more akin to a dirty, dead animal than the clean, chestnut braid it had been moment before, he had added some kind of colored paste to parts of his arms and legs, looking like sickly sores, and had so much dirt covering him it was almost comical. Duo laughed, his perfect white teeth no longer looking perfect…there was some kind of black substance rubbed into his gums and a few of his teeth had been made to appear as if they were missing. Quatre could honestly say he would not recognize him from any other homeless peasant.

"Look alive, Cat, because it's your turn. Can't have such a pretty face when you're a slave…I'm sure you can imagine why not." Duo motioned at an empty chair and Quatre sat down promptly.

"How much time do we have until it's dark enough for us to go?" Quatre's voice was still raspy, but he'd been assured this was actually a plus. Dorothy would be less likely to recognize his voice.

"About two hours. Plenty of time to make you bedraggled enough that even your sister wouldn't recognize you." Duo set to work immediately after.

Dirt was smudged all over the already filthy clothes and all over any visible patches of skin, along with the same colored paste to make him appear to have sores. His hair was streaked with so much dirt that afterward his hair looked brown instead of blond. Duo rubbed some cream around his eyes, giving them a sunken appearance and Quatre was amazed at how such a simple trick seemed to dull his eyes. Duo was right, after he was finished, he didn't doubt his sisters, even Iria, wouldn't be able to pick him out if he was standing right in front of them. He smiled, not really caring for the chalky substance discoloring his teeth and gums, but he pushed the small discomfort back.

"We look wretched."

"I know, they won't notice us at all!" Duo sounded much too excited, in Quatre's opinion.

"It's time, Zechs dropped by to let us know we're pulled up to the rocks and it's sufficiently dark enough for you two to sneak inland."

Quatre took another steadying breath before pocketing the three golden trinkets deep within the folds of his clothes, grabbing the staff on his way out the door. He followed Noin as she led them to one of the gangways, Duo talking quietly to Heero, who sounded like he was muttering last minute directions. Quatre absentmindedly tucked the copper pendant under his ratty tunic, feeling around his still sore neck to make sure the chain was out of sight…he was loathe to take it off but he admitted he'd probably have to once he was on the island. Dorothy had proven that she recognized the pendant on more than one occasion.

Zechs stopped them before exiting the airship, clarifying with his look-outs that all was clear to proceed, and Quatre turned to Noin's gentle touch on his shoulder. "We'll need a signal for when you're safely inside the citadel, and we'll need one for when we need to proceed in three days time. Something noticeable but not enough to get yourselves noticed."

Nix yipped and flicked his tail. He looked like an ordinary tabby kitten once more, just as dirty and ragged as the two of them, but he looked confident that he could think of something to fit their needs. Noin nodded tersely and motioned them forward at Zechs' terse nod, Heero stopping at opening and fixing them both with an intense glare.

"You have three days; if you're not back here or give us a sign, we're coming anyway." Quatre smiled at how Heero's gaze naturally softened when he focused on Duo. "Understood?"

They both responded positively and Heero took a step back, let them slink off the airship. Quatre glanced back once they were on the solid ground of the island, the ship gone from view due to its numerous concealing charms, and took off after Duo who was confidently making his way through the rocks towards the still visible citadel.

It took a good portion of the night to cross the relatively small island, but Heero's instructions had not failed them, and soon, in the dark light of the early morning, Quatre found himself in a section of huts a mile from the citadel, huge and looming before them. Duo held out his arm as they wove their way deeper through the dilapidated huts, which Quatre could only assume housed the slaves, keeping an ear and eye out for patrolling Trolls.

"How close do you want to get?" Duo's question was quiet, a breath above a whisper.

"As close as we can."

Duo nodded and guided them further through the shabby huts. Quatre started to breathe through his mouth as the stench grew and grew the closer to the castle they got, trying to stamp out the guilt he felt rise within him. He had condemned everyone in Tria Manor to this hell…he shook his head; it wouldn't do anyone any good to get lost in those thoughts again. He followed Duo until he froze…Quatre could feel the dread start to leak from him. He looked where Duo's gaze was and saw the cause for concern…right there, in front of them was a group of Trolls, very much awake, playing some sort of card game. They only had to look up and it'd be over before it even started; Quatre stopped breathing.

A hand clamped around his mouth and yanked back, stifling his yelp; a quick, frightened look to his left saw that Duo had been grabbed as well. They were pulled into one of huts swiftly and the door was shut, all without the Trolls noticing; the hands gripping them let go and Quatre heard a disgusted sigh from their 'rescuer.' Quatre shared a glance with Duo, looked down to make sure Nix had scampered in after them as well, and turned around slowly. His eyes went wide and his breath hitched in his throat.

"Damn fools, are you trying to get yourselves gutted? You keep _in_ after curfew if you want to breathe the next morning." His voice was gravelly and harsh, scratchy and not nearly as proper as it used to be. His gray hair was long and kept back from his weathered face by a tattered leather band…his nose covering was filthy and nearly black. He looked horrible, but Quatre had never been so happy to see Professor S in all his life.

"S!" He disregarded all thoughts of propriety and hugged the bewildered man tightly, backing away only when he felt the confusion and hesitancy from the steward of Tria Manor. "It's me, S, I've finally made it here! It's Quatre!"

S froze and stared at Quatre, looked past the grime, dirt, and sores that dirtied him and then his face split into a wide, blessed smile and he hugged the blond young man back tightly. The steward held onto him before remembering himself, distancing them as was proper, and his happy, over-joyed face began to melt into one of confusion and dread. "Master Quatre, what are you doing here? You shouldn't—it's much too dangerous for you—"

"I'm fixing the mistake I made. S, please tell me that Trowa's here."

S paused and then nodded slowly. "Yes, the prince is here…he's trapped in that foremost tower and is still ensnared by the two curses, but he is here."

Quatre smiled brighter than he had in months. "Good, because I'm going to get him back!"

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Hello again, sorry for the delay...last month was way busier than expected. I am currently way sick as I post this...seriously, feel like crap. Review! Next chapter will be up in a week or two!

Osco


	18. Chapter 18

Candlelight (18/25ish)

Author: Osco

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xS, 6x9

Rating: R

Warnings: Lemony goodness, violence, language, magical happenings, and ugly Trolls attempting to ruin the story!

Summary: Retelling of the fairy tale, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" GW style. What if you made a mistake? What if the person you loved had to pay the price? How far would you go to save him? How about a place that can't exist?

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I am but a poor, post-grad who has no hold over the characters whatsoever and is doing this as a pastime.

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen: **_**The Bear Prince**_

"I hate to break up the reunion, but for the Lady's sake, keep your voices down!" Duo hissed. Quatre whipped around and gave an apologetic, somewhat abashed nod, but grabbed onto that burning determination seeing S, _finding_ S, had given him.

S's eyes widened at the sight of Duo after a moment of scrutiny, looking closely and underneath his disguise, as he had done to Quatre. "I can't believe it, Shini—?"

Duo moved impossible fast and clapped a hand over S's mouth, his narrowed, violet eyes hard and uncompromising. "The name is Dunn, and that there is my brother, Waif. Suitable, unassuming slave names, _right_?"

S nodded slowly, pried Duo's hand away and eyes flashing in understanding. "Yes. I'll be sure to keep those who might not know informed." He nodded at Duo, unable to keep the smile from his face. "It is a pleasure to see you once more…however, may I enquire as to how you've come to my hut tonight, together?"

Quatre shot a look towards Duo, who nodded but motioned to keep his voice down before he crouched near the door of the hut, his ears tuning in to the outside. Nix yipped and hopped up on the table, reverting back to his original form for S's benefit for a moment, and then once more became a common tabby when he hopped back down. Quatre told S everything from the moment he spilled wax and doomed them all too how he was talking to him know, sparing no detail. He spoke for nearly two hours, S interrupting with questions occasionally, but he never seemed too surprised about most of what he was told. When he was finished, Quatre fished out the gold gifts from his ratty clothing and showed them to S, who examined them briefly, but seemed more interested in Quatre, whose face had gotten progressively more distressed the more he talked.

Quatre looked around at the squalor S was living in, had been living in for four, almost five really, months and that bright determination began to erode into ugly guilt, rearing its head and refusing to be ignored. "I am so, _very_ sorry, S…I didn't—I never meant to do any of this to you! Where are the others, are they all right? Cathy, Sally? Wufei, Hilde? Everyone? Are they still—I can never hope to—"

"Hush, lad, hush." S shook his head, a sad smile on his face as he placed his hands over Quatre's cheeks and tried to calm him. "The blame is not with you. You could not have known what would happen because we were forbidden to tell you about both of the curses…all could know, even a random baker in Blume who had never met the prince, but _you_ could not. And that was what made overcoming them impossible. How could you not question and try to know of something that tormented the man you loved?"

S pursed his lips and held up his hand when he saw Quatre beginning to object again. "No, this was not solely your fault. Yes, you made an error and it had terrible consequences, but it would have been impossible for you to not have asked and doubted. My prince knew how unlikely it would be that you last the full year and a day without triggering the curses…but he took the risk anyway."

S looked down and brought his hands back to his lap, clasped hard and tight together. "When my prince first told us of you and that he was going to ask for your hand, despite the curse Dorothy place on him, we all tried to convince him not to. None worked, and eventually, the way he babbled on about you, we began to believe with him…but then you came and he told us he was twice cursed and that you had come reluctantly…even resentfully. Again, we tried to tell him the risk was not worth the cost should it fail, that if he broke his engagement to you but offered to employ you here, it would be the best thing for all…but by the Lady, you chose to get to know him, to love him...we will never fault you for that, even if it meant we were doomed to fail."

Quatre nodded absently, knowing that S meant every word he said but not truly believing them. "What were the curses exactly? I mean, I kind of know but…"

"The first was cast upon the prince from Dorothy, not more than five summers ago. She came to Trowa's lands purposely and caught his attention by wreaking havoc in a village. She demanded that he enter into a union with her, a marriage for political alliance…as you can imagine, the prince refused. The she broke a pendant she had about her neck and cursed him that he would live the day as a bear, but could live through the night as either a man or bear…she went on to curse that should he find someone he did want to marry, he would not be able to, and should his love ever discover he was the Bear, he would have to marry her on the day of his love's next birthday.

"The second was cast by Duke Dermail, Dorothy's grandfather, as I'm sure you well remember, given a pendant from his granddaughter. He cursed that you could never see the prince's face, and should you ever do so, the prince and his entire household would become his slaves. In both curses, you could not be told what was occurring, or else they would have come to pass anyway."

"You're all slaves?" Quatre was horrified…what would have happened to them?

"No…not yet. Dorothy and the Duke are bound by the curses as much the prince is. We remain his prisoners, not fully slaves, until the first curse comes fully about, which is in three days. After that though…I'm afraid these past few weeks have not been a comfort to our thoughts."

Sandrock's words all those months ago made much more sense after S's explanation. She had told him that in causing the curses to come about in the first place, he had it within his power to break them…that the more complex the curses were, the tighter they held everyone affected. The curses prevented Dorothy and the Duke from acting as well…they couldn't expedite the process and couldn't amend their curses in any way…Quatre, however, was not so affected. He had been purposely excluded from the curses, a factor to be sure, but not a certainty, and now because of that he had greater power over the curses than anyone else. He felt a bit better with that knowledge, that some good could come from his heinous mistakes…still, it was hard to be so forgiving towards himself when he looked at S and saw half the man he was.

"S, you didn't answer me before…where are the others? Are they all right?"

S breathed out and quirked an eyebrow at Quatre. "They are as well as can be expected given where we are. Her highness is kept away from us but is unharmed…she is the collateral used against Healer Sally and Armsmaster Chang to keep them from using their abilities. Until the curse takes full hold, Miss Sally and Master Chang are still able to use their powers against the Trolls without incurring injury on themselves, so the Duke keeps the princess Catherine with him at all times. Both of them are isolated as well, though I'm not sure where…the rest of us are scattered throughout the slave encampments…I cannot be sure where the rest of us are, but we are all still alive."

"Waif," Duo called. He shrugged his shoulders apologetically at the two of them for interrupting their conversation. "We need to sleep; we'll get scant hours as it is. S, wanna give us the royal tour tomorrow? Show us the ins and outs and all that jazz?"

The steward looked torn for a moment, torn between accepting the help that had come unexpectedly and the desire he had to keep anything from happening to Quatre as his prince's betrothed, the blond thought, but he eventually shook his head and let out a resigned sigh. S smiled in his benevolent manner and inclined his head politely. "I will…though I cannot offer any wisdom how to get any closer to the prince."

Quatre nodded and settled against the ground, even though S had offered his thin cot, and took off the copper pendant and stowing it away…there could be no dreams tonight. He could feel each of the Ladies' gifts against his stomach has sleep claimed him, praying, wishing, hoping that tomorrow their purpose that the Ladies had been so sure of would make itself known come first light.

* * *

Quatre was shaken awake not long after he fell asleep, squinting tiredly, confusedly, at the strange, dirty looking Elf in the soft grey of the early morning before the previous day and night came roaring back to the front of his mind. S had offered them some moldy looking bread, which Quatre ate without complaint, his heart paining him at how S ate the disgusting bread, as if there was nothing wrong with it. Then, they were both hurried out the door, Quatre hissing at Nix to stay there and signal the others that they were fine, S murmuring warnings and instructions to them. Keep your head down, breath through your mouth in slow inhales, don't speak unless asked to…Quatre's stomach gave an unpleasant lurch of nervousness. Duo didn't seem to be nervous, but then again, Duo was a lot older and had told Quatre he had done things like sneaking into castles loads of times before. Quatre risked a few glances at his surroundings as more and more slaves were milled around him and herded toward the citadel, trying to get a good picture of the landscape, but he didn't risk much with the menacing Troll guards so near. They looked just as horrible as Quatre remembered…and the grotesque goblins around them were just as bad, sneering and laughing cruelly at the slaves whenever one of their brethren pushed down a broken looking slave, human or not.

Quatre had to take deep breaths, despite the rancid taste in the air, in order to calm himself down. Ever since his encounter with Dorothy and the knowledge he could project emotions, it seemed harder to ignore…he desperately longed to throw back that pain and humiliation he could feel oozing from the slaves into their captors.

S latched onto Quatre's wrist and pulled him alongside him when they entered the stone castle, guiding him to a gathering of other slaves whose duty it seemed to be was some semblance of cooking. Quatre, glancing behind him to see that Duo had followed them in and was currently getting himself situated by the doorway, took another calming breath and took a place beside S, chopping strange looking plants and dumping them into a nearby pot.

"This is where the slaves' and goblins' food is prepared…the Trolls', including Dorothy's, food is prepared elsewhere. I believe that's where most of the Tria cooks and servers are." S whispered hurriedly as he bent close to Quatre in the pretense of dumping more chopped plants into the pot.

He wasn't sure how long they spent in that excuse for a kitchen, but he looked up sharply at the distinct spike of emotion, of determination and focus, he felt from Duo. The Elf wasn't where he had been earlier, the spot by the door vacant but he felt a warm hand at his elbow and he looked back down.

"We get out of here in about half an hour and will be sent to one of the main antechambers," Duo's voice breathed, barely much more than a whisper. "Inspection time, we'll get a glimpse of Dorothy there, stay close to S."

Quatre nodded slightly and he felt Duo glide away from him. Beside him, S was tense and ramrod-straight, every ounce of his anxiety and nervousness barreling into Quatre's mental blocks. He wanted to try and reassure him, but really, what could Quatre have said? He was just as nervous and anxious…and he still didn't have a clue how to get closer to Trowa. He started violently at the horns that signaled their move from the kitchens, but S had grabbed hold of his wrist again, guiding him after as the others listlessly shuffled their way out.

The antechamber they were led to was huge, and it was just as well because what looked like every person on the island was herded into it; Quatre kneeled beside S once he saw everyone else do so. He heard some kind of announcement and he risked a glance up, catching what had to be the Troll officials on the island, the nobility of Romefeller. They were dressed much more richly than the Trolls patrolling among the slaves, in clothes that looked primarily Human in style and re-stitched to fit their larger frames. Among them, Quatre immediately the monster who had given him nightmares for the first few weeks he'd been in the Fey. Just as tall and ugly as remembered, Dermail, the apparent 'king' of the Trolls walked imperiously into the chambers, his animal hides mixed with fine silks that were most assuredly not his own. And then…she walked out behind him.

Quatre had seen Dorothy quite a few times in the dream space, had felt those black talons on his skin and those ice blue eys stare at him in hatred, but seeing her in person was all together different. She was tall, at least a head taller than himself, dressed in an elegant black dress that hugged her figure and contrasted with her fall of platinum blonde hair and pale skin. Next to her grandfather, she didn't look like a Troll…she looked like a strange, but not repugnant, blend of Human, Elf, and Troll; she could have very well been a beautiful creature were it not for the blatant cruelty on her face, her pointed smile at how so many suffered. But, Quatre's eyes focused on something else, something beyond how terribly sad it was that such a magnificent being was so grotesque by her own hand…

She was draped in gold. Most was obviously stolen from the women who were captured, but there was so much of it on her he had to assume some was her own. Bangles and chains glittered at her throat and wrists, great gold rings were on nearly every talon, gold diadems were even combed into her hair. S nudged him and he lowered his head as the troop of Trolls began to parade down the chamber, some sneering at the slaves while Dermail boasted how close he was to adding so many more to his stock.

"True gold is rare, perhaps nonexistent, on this island," S murmured softly. His eyes followed where Quatre's had been moments before he looked back at the ground. "All that it produces is a cheap, flashy metal called Trolls' gold. True gold is always taken from arriving slaves and given to the lady Dorothy…she loves gold more than her own grandfather."

And suddenly, Quatre knew how to use the gifts he had been given.

It was going to take a very large amount of luck and faith in S's assertion about Dorothy's love of gold, but it could work. There was no way he could overpower Dorothy without his empathy (which he knew he couldn't reveal with the others still on the Peacemillion), in either strength or power, so he was going to have to outsmart her…easier said than done, of course. He couldn't reveal who he was until he was sure he could break the curses, or at least stall for some way on how to get Trowa back and out of danger. The trick though, the trick was to not get himself flogged or killed first though.

The slaves were moved back to their various tasks after the Trolls marched past, and before S could grab hold of his wrist, Quatre darted away, reaching inside his rags and grabbing hold of the golden spool. Deathscythe had told him to hold onto the comb until the end, but that still gave him the golden apple and spool of thread. Quatre followed the slaves heading towards the fields, keeping his eye on Dorothy all the while. He could feel Duo close behind him; he hurriedly unraveled the gold thread from the spool, leaving what looked like a solid gold lump behind. He stashed the golden thread back in his rags and took up a spot ahead of the strolling Trolls, who had shifted their talk to what sounded like war within the Fey. Dorothy twirled the golden necklaces draped around her neck with a knowing smile as she talked about Treize and how marvelous he was fighting; by the tone of her voice, he knew that she knew about Epyon and the control that she had over the man. He may not have known much about Epyon but he knew that much.

Quatre turned his attention back to the task at hand and took a deep breath as he saw Dorothy begin to walk past where he stood, but stopped the song in his throat. Wing's warning rang in his head…let not yourself sing to Trolls…

He took a deep breath and tossed the golden spool in the air, humming to himself like a loon and canting a little rhyme out loud, hoping that a guard wouldn't come over and shut him up before Dorothy's interest was piqued. "Bright, bright, so bright it shines…pretty, pretty gold of mine…"

Duo clambered through the tall stalks as Quatre sat down and continued to toss the golden spool in the air, repeating the little rhyme and adopting a look of simple-mindedness, forcing his smile wide and vacant. The Elf gave him an utterly horrified, confused look before he busied himself with picking out rotten looking corn from the stalks as Dorothy stormed through, an excited look on her face.

"What is that you're chattering on about, little ant?" Quatre steadied himself and waved at her with the hand holding the spool, praying that the other Trolls she had around her didn't do anything that would ruin his plan. He was internally pleased by the surprised and greedy look that covered her face at the sight of the gold in his hands…she may have been clever and powerful, but she was ruled by her desires in the end; that meant he had a real chance to beat her at her own game.

"Bright, bright, so bright it shines…pretty, pretty gold of mine…it's pretty, isn't it Mistress? But—but not as pretty as shiny Troll gold." Quatre furrowed his brow as if in deep thought, stuttering a few times before he continued. "No, no, no, not as pretty at all."

"Well, little fool, I have plenty of shiny Troll gold, I could give you that if you give me that gold in your hand."

Quatre nodded enthusiastically, his grin wide and thoughtless, but abruptly he frowned and looked deep in thought again. He could see Dorothy getting impatient so he fiddled with the gold some and took the plunge. "B-but I heard that, that the Bear is pretty as the prince…pretty as Troll gold…can I see that too?"

He felt the sharp intake of breath from Duo behind him rattle up his spine, but he held onto his façade, refusing to let Duo's worry or the dark look from Dorothy rattle him out of character. She didn't think anything of the slaves she controlled, they were worthless to her…she wouldn't think anything of a fool's question. He cringed like a small child when she strode forward and snatched the gold away from him, a sneer on her face. "You stupid ant, no you can't see my prince."

She began to walk away. "But I know where lots of pretty gold is! I-I can bring you more if-if…"

Dorothy whirled around and grabbed his arm, yanking Quatre to his feet, glaring behind at Duo. "Is this idiot telling the truth? He's found gold, true gold on this isle?"

Duo hesitated but caught the very serious look in Quatre's eyes before he shrugged and lowered his eyes. "I cannot say, Mistress…my brother Waif is addled, he cannot always help in the field work so I…I let him wander. Perhaps he has found such a place but…but Mistress, what is the harm in letting one fool see your treasure if it inspires him to find such a place again? I doubt he'll be able to find it again otherwise…he is too simple, my apologies, Mistress…"

Dorothy was still for a moment, maintaining her grip on Quatre's arm, but Quatre could feel the inner workings of her mind thinking, hoping, wanting to possess even more gold. The island was old, it was possible there were caches of ancient wealth hidden that had not been found…if using this fool's simple curiosity drove him to find such a place again she could soon possess lost treasures much finer than even what she had now. Her desire almost made Quatre sick.

"What harm indeed. Listen to me slave, bring your brother to me at the Tower gates tonight, I'll make sure the guards let you pass, and if this little fool does in fact have more true gold, I'll grant his pathetic request…if not, I'll relieve you of your burden of him."

Duo shook and gulped convincingly at her mockingly-sweet demand, catching a loose limbed Quatre when she tossed him back to him. She brought up the gold spool and admired it in the sun for a few moments before she turned on her heel and marched away with her waiting retinue. Lingering guards bellowed out orders for the slaves to get back to work, as a vast majority had stopped to watch the spectacle, sparing one more disgusted look to Quatre who had promptly began to giggle madly and slid down into the dirt.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Duo hissed. He glanced once and twice around as all the others began to get back to work, double checking that Dorothy had truly departed and wasn't lingering behind. Satisfied, he glared hotly at a still vacant looking Quatre. "Are you trying to get yourself killed, you damn idiot?"

"Of course I'm not, but she isn't just going to let me up to see Tr-the Bear. It worked, didn't it?" Quatre rolled onto the ground while Duo went back to picking corn, the words ground out between his vacant smile.

"That is completely beside the point!"

"It is not! This is what the Ladies meant by the gifts, this is how they can help. I doubt that normally Dorothy would grant this request, if this was normal gold, but it's not, it is gold given to me by three of the greatest women to have lived in the Fey. It's twisting her mind, using her desire for more gold against her…Du-Dunn, this will work, I know it will, I can feel it."

Duo looked down at him with an expression that was equal parts anger, exasperation, and resignation, shaking his head. "S sure as hell isn't going to like this plan of yours."

"S doesn't have to like it. If it works, then it works…we can worry about the rest tomorrow."

* * *

The rest of the day sped by unnaturally fast compared to the sheer snail-pace from that morning, and before Quatre knew it, he was being led by Duo to the base of the tall tower Quatre recalled from his dreams. S, as predicted, had not liked his plan at all, but Quatre had kindly pointed out that he technically out-ranked him, they were doing this plan, and he could scold him later when he returned. Nix had not liked it either but had done no more than growl his displeasure. S had promised to try and find where most of the Tria manor household were while they were out, promising that he had enough practice in his youth sneaking around to not get caught, and now, here they were. Quatre felt incredibly nauseous but he kept the wide, inane smile firmly in place; it helped that the smile helped repress the reflex to gag.

Dorothy was waiting for them at the foot of the tower, still admiring the spool and she waved off the Troll guards who had been flanking them. "Well, let's see it then."

Duo lowered his head and shoved Quatre forward. He smiled even wider and opened his clasped hands to reveal the gold thread; he widened his eyes and he bit his bottom lip, offering up the thread. Dorothy inhaled sharply and she snatched the thread away, holding it up in the firelight to admire it, smiling cruelly at Quatre before she grabbed his wrist. She reached into her dress and pulled out a pile of cheaply glittering metal. "As promised, shiny Troll gold for you, little fool."

"Shiny!" Quatre agreed, nodding his head, cradling the scraps of metal close to his heart. He hesitated, making a show of trying to get a thought out, before he looked up, meekly. "Bear prince?"

Dorothy nodded absently, staring entranced at the gold thread looped over her hands like a snake, turning sharply and heading up a set of stairs that Quatre remembered from the dream; Quatre shuffled after, careful to keep his attention on the metal in his hands. The nausea that had been his companion began to multiple the more stairs they climbed up, he could feel his breath pick up and he fought to control his facial expressions, his anticipation. They reached a wood door and Dorothy paused for a moment, as if testing for something, before she opened the door and glided in, immediately admiring her reflection in a nearby mirror, all draped in stolen and enchanted gold. Quatre shuffled in and felt his throat close up in a gasp that sounded awfully close to a sob of pure relief.

There, right there in front of him after nearly five months of searching, of worrying, of fear and longing, there was Trowa.

* * *

Hm...hello there! Uh, no excuse, sorry for the terrible wait. This was supposed to be done by Dec. 31st...oh well for that. I really apologize to everyone who has been reading this story with me for so long and promise that this will be finished, even if it kills me. I will finish this story! Unfortunately, I can't say when the next chapter will be up, as I'm in the process of moving and starting a new job, but it will be sooner rather than later. Look for two weeks, tops.

And this chapter is dedicated to my dearest friend and confidence-booster miss Dentelle_Noir! You give me a challenge, and I answer it miss! Hope this chapter lives up to your expectations!

Cheers.

Osco


	19. Chapter 19

Candlelight (19/25ish)

Author: Osco

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xS

Rating: R

Warnings: Lemony goodness, violence, language, magical happenings, and ugly Trolls attempting to ruin the story!

Summary: Retelling of the fairy tale, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" GW style. What if you made a mistake? What if the person you loved had to pay the price? How far would you go to save him? How about a place that can't exist?

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I am but a poor college student who has no hold over the characters whatsoever and is doing this as a pastime.

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen: **_**Three Golden Gifts**_

Quatre could feel his heart banging against his rib cage; he mechanically shuffled forward until he was right beside him, looking down at the apparently sleeping Trowa, a frown frozen on his handsome face. He glanced up hurriedly at Dorothy, nearly forgetting to keep his eyes wide and bright for a moment in his excitement; he assured himself that she was too busy admiring the loops of gold thread on her arms in the mirror before he dropped down beside the bed, kneeling over Trowa's still form.

"Trowa! Trowa, wake up, it's me, it's…" He caught his own name in his throat in time, knowing that even if Dorothy was distracted, it could only spell disaster if he uttered his name. He leaned closer, glancing up for another moment to make sure the witch hadn't heard his whispering before he focused entirely on Trowa, on the beautiful man inches from him; the man he had spent the better part of the last four months searching for, yearning for, and loving even more, praying that should this moment happen, he could earn forgiveness for his sins.

He bit his bottom lip and waited, hands resting against the tall prince's chest, waiting for something, a flutter of eyelids, an intake of breath, anything…but nothing happened. Trowa just lay there, still as stone, his breathing calm and steady, skin warm but unmoving under his hands. Quatre felt a moment of horrified confusion before his mind caught up with his thoughts…of course Trowa wouldn't just sit here, a docile captive…of course the Trolls would have taken precautions.

Quatre felt like screaming, shaking, and cursing all at once; he had finally, _finally_, found Trowa and he was still so far from him. He felt his eyes blur and burn as tears of frustration started to brim, a million thoughts speeding through his head as to how he could fight this too, this obvious spell or enchantment that kept Trowa unmoving and unable to be awoken from sleep. He shook his head of the dark thoughts and took a discreet, calming breath…it wouldn't do anyone any good if he lost his head here and got himself killed when he was so close.

"Isn't my prince pretty, little Fool?" Quatre's head darted up at the sound of Dorothy's mocking voice, and he hurriedly schooled his face to look vacant and empty, praying that she wouldn't look at him to closely and see the tears barely kept at bay; he had to fool her, simple as that. He held up his hands full of the Troll's gold and nodded obnoxiously.

"Shiny!" Dorothy smiled at him, her greed practically leaking from her, almost knocking Quatre's precariously held shields and control out of place before he could reach down and focus on his anchor. His eyes darted to Trowa for another moment; even though he was spelled by something, his steady emotions were still able to keep him from toppling over. Trowa, doing his best to keep him safe even when he couldn't do a thing for himself…Quatre felt a sob creep up his throat that was almost too much to swallow back down.

No, now was not the time for those kinds of feelings. This was a setback true, but he hadn't come all this way to give up just because of a little magic and he sure as hell wasn't about to give Trowa up after just finding him. He took a deep, steadying breath and smiled widely, trying to let that burning determination from earlier fill him up again, pushing aside all other thoughts except the driving force that he had to convince Dorothy to let him see Trowa again.

"Can-can I see pretty prince again? If-if I give you more shiny, can I?"

Dorothy gave him a sharp look and Quatre felt his blood run cold for a moment, but then she glanced back at the gold thread looped around her hand. Her expression melted into one of covetous greed and Quatre knew he had her then; he wasn't much for worshiping idols, but he sent up a quick promise to praise each of the Great Ladies until the day he died for their invaluable aid. "If you bring me more true gold, little Fool, I'll allow you to see the prince once more tomorrow night."

Quatre could feel the triumph in her thoughts, thinking she was tricking some idiot out of valuable treasures which could have been used to barter his and his brother's way to freedom, and her enjoyment in the act, but he stayed focused on the steady warmth from Trowa. He had one more chance to try and get Trowa out of here before the wedding, one more chance and he knew more than he did before, and he knew Trowa was held by something…maybe a spell, maybe some sort of sleeping drug. He held onto those thoughts fiercely as Dorothy grabbed his arm and forcibly led him out of the room, away from Trowa and down the stair of the tower. He was this far, he wouldn't waver; he grit his teeth but kept his vacant smile firmly in place as Dorothy's nail bit into his skin, drawing droplets of red against the dirt covering his skin.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Duo was still waiting nervously, gnawing on his thumb, visibly wilting in relief when Dorothy tossed Quatre back at him. Duo caught him clumsily, careful to not betray his quicker-than-human reflexes, hissing when his hand came away red from Quatre's upper arm. He shot Quatre a look that promised an argument later but he dropped his head low when Dorothy nodded to her guards.

"Return this filth where you found them. Be sure to bring them both back tomorrow night...if that fool doesn't have any gold, true gold, kill them both on the spot."

When they were both deposited back within the slave quarters and the Troll guards lumbering back to their respective posts, Duo stole a quick glance around before he led the way back to S's hut, his sharper eyes seeing in the dark far better than Quatre's eyes ever could. Quatre related the events in the tower to him in quiet, hurried tones, making sure he kept his limbs loose and easily led astray should Dorothy still have guards watching them. The more he spoke, the more Duo's feelings began to race, the more worried he became. He looked, quite possibly, the most harried Quatre could ever remember the carefree Elf looking, his violet eyes practically pools of inky darkness in the night but still furrowed and frowning in his obvious disapproval that Quatre was going to go back again the following night.

"This was a stupid idea."

"No, it was a good one. We know where Trowa is, I know he's under some sort of influence, and I get to see him tomorrow."

"Yeah, and all it will take for Dorothy to realize you're _you_ is a closer look! I didn't really pick these disguises thinking you'd be parading around Dorothy close enough to point out her moles, I picked them to blend in with everyone else!"

Quatre gave Duo a look as they pushed the door open to S's hut quietly. Yes, he had taken a risk that could have potentially ended in his death, but it had worked in their favor; as far as Quatre was concerned, he owed Trowa a few risks for causing this whole mess. As if he was following along with Quatre's thoughts, Duo snorted and shook his head.

"Getting yourself killed isn't gonna make Tro any happier, you know." Quatre rolled his eyes and ignored the pulse of genuine concern from Duo, feeling bad about brushing off the concern but knowing he had to keep focused. Now was not the time to give into fear, not yet.

S, who was sitting at the meager, broken table, was nodding, his face more ashen than it already was, his worry and relief warring across his face for dominance. "Please tell me this was the only time you are going to take such a risk again, Ma—Waif."

Duo snorted again but Quatre elbowed him hard and gave a glare before he gave S a more apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, but no. I couldn't get through to Tr-to the prince. I think he's being drugged or influenced by a spell."

S did not look pleased and opened his mouth as if to argue further, but Nix hopped up on the table, leaving his silent post beside the small window near the roof of the hut, and growled decisively. He gave Quatre a nod before focusing back on S and Duo, the latter looking even more frustrated but S's reaction seemed more suitable to what Nix intended. Quatre felt a pang of guilt at the resigned look that covered S's face but he frankly didn't have the energy to worry about that on top of everything else.

"I'm not trying to get myself killed, but this was never going to be easy and wishing otherwise won't change anything. If you so worried about this plan, help me, S, help me figure out a way to keep Trowa awake or to warn him about the enchantment." Quatre sat at the table, Nix curling up in his lap and purring softly, sending a gentle hum of calming emotions into Quatre, which he greatly appreciated.

S sat down as well as Duo took up a spot beside the door, training his ears on the sounds outside. "It could be a number of things though, lad. A spell, a potion, another part of the curse that we were not aware of…though, knowing Dorothy, I suspect it is closer to the enchantment more than anything else."

"Then could we get a warning to Trowa somehow? I'm sure there are ways to counteract spells, even as confined as he is!"

Duo shrugged from his spot by the door. "Depends on the strength of the spell caster and the strength of the one being afflicted. If it's a spell, I don't think there's much we can do…but if it's a potion, we could warn against that. And considering they probably have to enchant Trowa when he's the Bear, it'd probably be easier to slip him a potion. Heero said when he's the Bear he has limited human consciousness…enough to make him more than an ordinary Bear but not much beyond that."

Quatre stayed silent, lost in thoughts, wishing he had more definite information about what was afflicting Trowa, but knowing he'd just have to work with what he had. As the Bear, Trowa would likely not question anything her either ate or drank on his own…which meant Quatre would have to add something, slip something in as well that could alert the Bear and maybe reach Trowa. What though…he sighed raggedly and longed that he was back in that tower with Trowa. He started slightly at S's gentle touch to his shoulder, silently begging him to try and get some sleep, nodding half-heartedly.

His dreams were empty again that night.

* * *

The second day started much like the first; Quatre was jolted awake and dragged around by S through the various chores the slaves did in the morning. At the roll call, however, things took a different turn. He was kneeling beside S as the Troll 'nobility' paraded by, trying hard to both sneak a glance and make it look like he wasn't looking up, watching Dorothy show off the gold thread to her simpering retinue, but then Quatre's eyes were zeroed in on three very familiar and very missed people being dragged behind Dermail and his own crowd of sycophants.

Catherine looked all right for having been a prisoner for the last few months; her hair was longer and braided back behind her and the clothes she wore were shabby, but she looked, otherwise, quite healthy and unharmed. She was scowling furiously, not one bit of her fire quenched, and doing her best to make the Troll's restraining her keep her still. Dermail kept her close to him, smiling in smug triumph at the different generals and nobles around him. He gave her a small chuckle when she jerked her arms in her captors' grasps, swearing loudly and vulgarly as the Troll king gloated about Dorothy's wedding the next day. And trailing behind them, collars wrapped around their necks, looking unharmed but considerably worse off, were Sally and Wufei.

Quatre felt his heart clench at the married couple, who were not only shackled and chained, but were obviously kept separate from one another; the blond's empathy nearly sent him into tears with how much they missed one another. Wufei's back was straight and his black eyes full of disdain for those surrounding him while Sally's usually cheerful face was hardened and glaring, promising nothing but pain to anyone who attempted to get any nearer to her and her husband. Both looked relieved to see Catherine all right, Quatre wondering briefly just how often they saw anyone outside of whatever prison they were being kept in, but the dread and hopelessness of what the next day would bring weighed heavy on both their hearts. Quatre felt S clasp his wrist gently in both warning and comfort, shaking his head minutely, no doubt able to read the guilt spreading across the blond's face. Quatre swallowed thickly and focused his attention back to Dermail and his procession.

"—sure you've heard about Treize and his little campaign. Once I have these two under _my_ control, and I will after my granddaughter's, and my own, curses are completed tomorrow, they'll provide an excellent resource to our forces when we join with that Human!" The rest of their discussion trailed off as the group walked past and away, Quatre's eyes following Catherine, Wufei, and Sally until they disappeared around a corner; Dermail's emotions has nearly knocked Quatre over, his smug confidence that he was about to win suffocating. Quatre's mind went back to Zero's words of warning, of Epyon and whatever she was that frightened and angered Duo and Heero so, and he knew why Dermail had so much confidence in Treize.

Quatre glanced at S once more as the parade passed by, noting how the old man's face hardened, before his eyes followed them out. He could feel Duo's frustration beside him and he nudged the Elf has the slaves were dismissed back to their tasks; Duo and Quatre departed for the fields again just in case Dorothy walked by again; it wouldn't do if they drew more attention to themselves by not appearing at where they had been spotted the day before.

"I know what you're thinking, Waif, and while I agree with you, we have to stay focused."

"I am! Sally and Wufei are both skilled in different magics…if the Bear isn't being slipped a potion, they may know how to help!"

"We're already risking a hell of a lot here, if we try and sneak off to where they're being held…listen, let's just think about it all right? The note may work."

Quatre snorted which brought a small smile to Duo's face. The note…Quatre had scrawled a quick note to Trowa and scrubbed it in the meager remains of soap S had offered, trying to use un-identifying terms but still something that would reach to the part of the Bear that was his Trowa. S had taken the note off with him that afternoon as he went to the kitchens, promising to sneak it up to the cooks and slaves who prepared the prince's food. Quatre didn't really hold much hope that it would work, but there was still a chance he supposed. Still, he conceded to the Elf's advice…as much as it pained him to not try and help his friends.

He was nervous walking with Duo that night again, even with Nix's steady confidence and watchful gaze before they departed, his hands fidgeting over the gold apple and smiling inanely at the guards who were accompanying them. Dorothy was waiting for them outside the tower once more, her eyes alight with eagerness and want. She hurried forward and yanked Quatre away from Duo, smiling in a manner that the blond supposed was meant to come across as sweet, but her teeth gleamed much too sharply to complete the attempt. Quatre smiled wider and offered up the gold apple.

"Shiny! P-prince too?"

Dorothy stared at it for a moment, wonder and awe on her face as she examined the obvious treasure, before she snatched it away, holding it up to the moonlight. She wordlessly made her way back into the tower, Quatre trailing meekly after, clenching his hands tight in an effort to conceal their shaking. The trek up the stairs seemed to take even longer than before, but when Dorothy pushed the door open finally and strode in, Quatre tried to not let his disappointment show at the still and silent Trowa; Quatre didn't need any kind of training in magic to tell Trowa was still under the spell. He could feel it as clearly as he could feel his own breathing.

Quatre shuffled over and smiled sadly down at Trowa's sleeping, calm face, running the tips of his fingers down his cheek discreetly. Though a glance up told him it hardly mattered; Dorothy was entranced with the apple and not paying him one whit of attention, examining it and tossing it up in the air in obvious delight. He sat down softly at the edge of the bed Trowa was asleep on and closed his eyes for a moment; he had been feeling all day that whatever he was meant to do, whatever the Great Ladies thought he had the power to change, that it would happen at the wedding itself. Now, it was the only chance he had left…

Still, it would have been nice if he could have at least seen Trowa, really seen him, and been seen in return. He made to move away, but Trowa's hand caught his eye…it was clenched up tight, as if it was holding something. He glanced at Dorothy again and carefully, pried open the fingers, pulling out the too-soft piece of paper Quatre recognized as the hastily scrawled note S had promised to deliver. He felt his breath hitch slightly and looked back at Trowa…he knew. He knew Quatre was here or else he wouldn't have been holding that note so tightly…

He felt something warm blossom within his chest, flow through his veins and make his head lighter, brush away all the dark cobwebs taking up residence in his head ever since that dark wind had swept nearly all that he loved away from him. Trowa knew he was here and he was waiting for him…he missed him and still wanted him so badly that he clenched the only connection he had to the blond. Quatre smiled, not vacantly and not inanely, but brightly and wide, the kind of smile that Trowa must have fallen in love with when he first saw Quatre playing his battered violin in his father's barren fields. The kind of smile that men do all sorts of silly things for.

"I'm here, _mu'Hibb,_" Quatre whispered softly in Trowa's ear. Maybe he could hear, maybe he couldn't, but maybe the words would stay with his beloved prince and Bear anyway. "And you have nothing more to fear."

Dorothy eventually remembered that she was not alone in her tower, smiling cruelly at Quatre as she ushered him out of the room, chattering on about bringing her more true gold, proclaiming she would need it when she was Princess of Tria, but the blond heard none of it. Trowa had forgiven him, he could feel it, and now the ocean blue eyes were hardened with purpose, with the need to prove himself deserving of that forgiveness. Duo had led him back to the hut quickly that night, muttering assurances into Quatre's ear, promising to send out a message for Heero and the crew of the _Peacemillion_ the next morning, to not lose hope yet.

But hope was blooming brightly, Duo did not need to worry. Because Quatre finally, finally knew what the Lady Deathscythe meant by keeping the golden comb until the very last…and he was going to show Dorothy exactly who she had meddled with.

* * *

The next morning was, for many, one of supreme dread.

However, for Quatre, it was one where he had awoken feeling more confident in the mission Sandrock had given him those four months ago than ever before. Today, he was eighteen, and today he would save his love, a kingdom, and hopefully unravel a dark plan. He woke early that morning and used the meager water and soap that S had given him night before to scrub the dirt off his skin and face; he scrubbed his teeth clean as well, spitting out the black paste used to dampen his smile into a small dish. He used the golden comb the brush the cake dirt out of his hair, the comb leaving trails of bright gold behind but the comb remaining clean and pristine despite all the dirt it raked out. When he was done, he glanced at his reflection in the dingy mirror provided and no longer was Waif staring back.

Instead, he saw a poor merchant's son staring back…and a Prince of Quattuon as well.

He flung his still dirty cloak over his head and pulled the cowl down low over his face before giving Nix, his ever present companion, a small grin. "I think it's time for the others to join us here…Allah and the Ladies know Heero is probably not going to wait any longer anyway. Would you mind terribly leading them in?"

Nix blinked his all blue eyes at Quatre and yipped in agreement before he nudged Quatre's face with his own, purring deeply in his chest. He hopped down and disappeared in a whirl of copper and sand out the door.

"You send him out already?" Duo poked his head in from the back room, his face still very much covered in dirt, but the disguise starting to fade away some, his teeth white once more and the dirt shaking out of his braid with every step he took. "Isn't it a little soon?"

"No. Nix won't lead them in until the wedding has begun, they'll be fine." Quatre smiled and slipped the golden comb into the folds of his cloak.

"Hm…I see you've cleaned up all pretty; you gotta plan, Waif?"

"In a matter of words."

"That's not really a yes, buddy."

"No, I suppose it's not."

Duo looked like he wanted to argue more, but S hurried in just as a low horn blew in, alerting all that it was time, that all were required to attend the Lady Dorothy's wedding ceremony, and he settled for smiling darkly instead. They exited the hut and joined the down-trodden procession of slaves up to the Troll stronghold, Duo walking in front of Quatre and blocking most of him from view. Quatre glanced around as they were all herded by the cackling Troll guards into the throne hall of the stronghold, trying to spot where Trians were, but not able to spot with some many gathered together. The throne room was large and grandiose, with a raised area and lowered one, where all the slaves were shuttled into, the Trolls calling out all sorts of degrading things as they did so before they took their place around the perimeter. No one expected anything from the slaves.

Quatre breathed deep and slipped on the copper pendant he had left off for the last few days, letting the calming, steady emotions linking him to Trowa settle over him, cocooning his mind from everything else surrounding him, like a warm blanket to block out the winter wind. He heard a shriek of trumpets and looked up to see the Troll nobles proceed inside, taking their seats before the throne, Dermail and Dorothy coming in last, the former even more hideous looking than before while Dorothy looked resplendent in a golden gown, her stolen gold draping all over her.

And then, with a loud roar, Trolls dragged the shackled Bear in, some cries and moans of despair drifting up from the lowered sections. Quatre stared at the Bear, at his Trowa, as he was taken up to the front, his chains hooked into a loop in the floor, preventing him from causing any damage to those around him. Dorothy smirked and swayed up to the Bear, patting his nose, not at all concerned at the sharp teeth and furious roar aimed at her.

"My comrades!" Dermail began, sweeping his arms before him and smiling darkly at the cheer from the Trolls and goblins. "Today, today we celebrate a momentous victory for Romefeller! Today, my granddaughter, Dorothy, will be wed to the Prince of Tria, bound utterly and entirely by the curse she placed on him all those years ago! In doing so, she will become the Princess of Tria, of a legendary Colony Kingdom, a land full of ancient power and wealth, and grant us the power to begin our ultimate conquest of the Fey!"

Quatre looked around, saw how dark Duo's violet eyes were, how grim S's face was, and how defeated and angry every other non-Troll and goblin looked. He gripped the pendant tighter.

"We will join our ally, Treize Kushrenada, who has at his side a most terrible ally who will crush all that comes before her and finally claim what has always been rightfully ours!" The cheers went up again and Quatre started to move, deftly slipping out from Duo's hands and pushing through the crowd of slaves, some looking at him as he passed, confusion on their faces. Duo could only try and follow, horror on his face at what Quatre was no doubt about to do.

"Now, now, before we begin, we must do with the formalities, as pointless as they may be. I must ask now if anyone here objects to this union, and if so to step forwa—"

"I object!" Quatre yelled at the top of his lungs, interrupting Dermail's smug speech and wiping the look of confidence from his face. The Troll king rose from his seat, furious and sputtering just as Quatre pushed through the last of the slaves and climbed onto the raised floor, striding up the aisle of the wedding hall. He pulled off the cowl of his cloak and stared up at Dorothy and Dermail, pendent glowing bright copper against his chest and his eyes alit with all the fury and love he had flowing through him.

"You!" Dermail's voice was loud and angry, the same undercurrents of lust that Quatre remembered lacing his voice as the Troll king stared at him.

"_You_." Dorothy's voice hissed out, staring at him through ice cold eyes, her smile stretching cruelly across his face.

"My name is Quatre Rab'era Winner and as the heir to the Quattuon throne and the Prince of Tria's Consort, I object to this union!"

* * *

And I'm back again...sorry once more...this chapter just did not want to be written. Little bastard, it's like it knew I wanted to write the next chapter and it was being a pain on purpose. Jerk. Anyway, here you go and I'm starting the next chapter soon, like tomorrow soon. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and pelase oh please, let me know what you thought! Reviews are love you know!

Oh, and Noir, I believe you own me a little something ^_^. I again thank you for your unwavering support of this story! You are way to awesome for words and I'm going to work on my totally American (awesome) gift for you!

Cheers.

Osco


	20. Chapter 20

Candlelight (20/25ish)

Author: Osco

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xS

Rating: R

Warnings: Lemony goodness, violence, language, magical happenings, and ugly Trolls attempting to ruin the story!

Summary: Retelling of the fairy tale, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" GW style. What if you made a mistake? What if the person you loved had to pay the price? How far would you go to save him? How about a place that can't exist?

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I am but a poor state worker who has no hold over the characters whatsoever and is doing this as a pastime.

**Chapter 20: **_**Sun and Moon**_

There was a telling moment of silence after Quatre's booming proclamation; the Trolls seemed dumbfounded, the slaves bewildered, and the Tria household staff seemed so shocked that Quatre had found them they could barely even catch their breath. However, one was not so silent; the Bear gave another great roar and pulled against the chains, ripping them straight out of the floor, as if they had never been secured in the first place, and ran towards the blond Empath. Quatre blinked back tears and wrapped his arms around the Bear's snowy white neck, swallowing down a relieved sob and gripping the white fur tight between his fingers. For a moment, Quatre, and most likely the Bear, _Trowa_, forgot that they were surrounded by Trolls and slaves and friends, forest green meeting deep blue before Quatre rested his forehead against the Bear's huge maw.

Unfortunately, their reunion was cut short as Dorothy's high, cruel laugh filled the hall, her eyes gleaming wickedly as she stepped down from the raised dais and strode down the hall. Quatre straightened up and pushed back any feelings of fear or dread, resting his hand on the Bear's broad back as he stepped in front of the blond protectively. He could feel every dark part of Dorothy's soul pricking against his skin like tiny needles, but he could also feel the pendant sweep warmth through him, keeping him steady and firm. Quatre clenched his free hand tight and held onto the Bear's fur as Dorothy stepped close.

"Well, well well…I must say I am surprised. It's not often a 'little ant' swoops in under my nose and I don't notice…but Quatre, dear, I think you're a little confused at just how much _real_ power your little announcement has."

Quatre did not respond beyond narrowing his eyes, which only seemed to amuse Dorothy further…but he knew differently. She was livid. She saw him now for who he was, saw him as the little fool of a slave she had thought she had manipulated so well, the insignificant slave who she had let see Trowa, the boy who had tricked her with a bit of enchanted gold and playing off her own greed. Her calm face and mocking smile couldn't hide the true wave of hatred and fury looking at him invoked within her.

"Grandfather, would you mind terribly _educating_ the poor dear just how marriage bonds work in our world."

Dermail rose from his filthy looking throne, leering at Quatre all the while, spreading his long arms wide as he spoke. "You claim to be bound by marriage to the Prince of Tria, boy, but tell me, have any bans been posted? Any kings notified?"

There was a grumble amongst the slaves, no doubt the Tria household, at these words, but Quatre kept his face collected and facing forward. "No. We are bonded through only our souls and ourselves."

Dermail cackled as the Troll nobles began to titter at the blond's words. The Bear growled angrily in his chest, silencing a few of the weaker laughs. "Then as the first king to be notified of this 'marriage' I declare it null and void! You're pointless objection has no weight behind it!"

Dorothy turned back, a sweet, cloying grin playing across her face. "A pity, isn't it? All this way you traveled and now it all seems quite pointless…I'm afraid that I have a stronger claim on the prince than you, my dear."

"Nonetheless, I do so challenge." Quatre stepped out from behind the Bear, eyes bright and determined. The copper pendant glowed sharply but didn't seem to burn like it did in the dreams; Quatre could feel Dorothy's eyes on it, could feel her hatred for his family, a family he had finally accepted as his own, rise upon seeing it.

"You give no reason why I should indulge your request," Dermail spat in response. He leapt down from his perch and made his way angrily towards Quatre, but he only made it halfway, as the Bear roared angrily and swiped with deadly accuracy at the Troll. Dermail flailed back, his face as fearful as it had been fearsome, warding the Bear off as he made his way, menacingly, to strike the Troll king. "You-you remember my curse Bear! You kill me, you die!"

"Trowa." Quatre spoke clearly and without fear. The Bear stopped and looked backwards for a moment before he ambled back, growling at the Trolls and goblins in the hall, coming to a stop underneath Quatre's outstretched hand. He leaned in close and whispered in the Bear's ear, "It's all right. No dying for me ok? I know what I'm doing, I promise."

The Bear _wuffed_ but didn't look entirely convinced, still standing guardedly in front of the slim blond.

"Well, it seems we're at a bit of an impasse, aren't we?" Dorothy cooed. She walked forward and around Quatre, circling him not unlike a buzzard circled the dead in the desert, the blond mused; the Bear growled deep and his muscles rippled in anger under Quatre's hand. "I can't very well kill you because if I do, Furies know that the Prince is going to do something regrettable that would result in his death and I can't very well have that, but I doubt you're just going to let a girl have her wedding either, not after going through all the trouble to get here and interrupt like a manner-less little cretin…so, what exactly do you propose we do, dear?"

Quatre wracked his brain for a moment. A challenge, that's what he intended, but in all honesty, he hardly expected Dorothy or the Trolls to honor any rules he set out should he win. What he needed…what he needed was _time_. "A challenge, just as I said. If I win, you relinquish your hold on Trowa and your grandfather releases the household."

"And if I win?"

"If you win, you get me."

The hall erupted into a cacophony of noise, the Trolls and goblins whooping in glee, the Tria household screaming out their protests, and the Bear (and undoubtedly Duo because he was sure the Elf was hardly pleased with his plan) roaring in denial. Dorothy's eyes gleamed and she merrily clapped her taloned-hands before heading back to the raised dais, taking her seat beside her still furious grandfather.

"You make quite the tempting proposal, Quatre dear…imagine,_ two_ Colony kingdoms under Romefeller control…and I admit, it would give me nothing but joy to have you bound to Grandfather while I remain bound to your beloved prince…"

Quatre pointedly ignored and shoved aside the nearly overwhelming wave of lust from the Troll king, keeping his eyes on Dorothy alone. "Do you accept or not?"

Dorothy smiled and canted her head forward. "Name the game, _your Highness_."

Quatre didn't need to think too long, the comforting, sure weight of the golden comb resting against his chest telling him exactly what he needed to do to buy the time he needed…the time Nix needed. "Riddles. A game of riddles."

Dorothy canted her head forward, motioning to her grandfather, clearly beckoning him to set the terms; it was clear to Quatre that even if Dermail was the proclaimed 'King,' Dorothy was the one who was truly in control, giving only an illusion that he held any true power. Dermail leaned forward and motioned forward with his sharp, dingy looking talons, his slimy, sneering smile speaking volumes to Quatre about what should happen should he fail, which it was clear they both expected him too. "Riddles, eh boy? Fine we can play your game…rules are simple. You tell us the riddle, I guess and it must be in regards to something in this room."

There was a grumble among the Tria household, and even some of the slaves, at the unfairness of this rule, but Quatre merely nodded, stepping closer to the dais, keeping his hand possessively wrapped in the Bear's fur. He looked around the room, taking in the concerned faces all facing him, those that he knew and those that he didn't. Duo had all but disappeared, but he could still see S, looking white as a ghost and gripping his hands tightly against his chest.

He could see Howard and Hilde, both looking worn and thin, but concern only for him in their eyes; seamstresses and cooks, gardeners and guards, housekeepers and advisors…all looking shoddy and worse for wear, but all only concerned for him. He spotted Cathy, dressed in an outfit that had certainly seen better days, kept in a seat besides an elderly looking Troll matron, violet eyes wide and angry at what Quatre was doing…and farther down, kept under a guard of burly Trolls were Sally and Wufei, both looking at him with equal parts hope and anger. He didn't pause long, not able to stand looking at all their faces and see what his actions had done to them, and continued his scan of the room.

After a few moments, he found his voice. "_To and fro it goes, spinning, weaving, dancing on the tapestry it owns."_

"Silly little prince, it's this, the gold thread." Dorothy's voice was hard and soft, pulling at the golden thread around her neck.

"The riddle was for your grandfather, but if he wishes to accept your answer—"

"I do accept it." Dermail spared an adoring look for Dorothy before smirking meanly back at Quatre.

"You should have thought about it more carefully…the answer is a spider." Quatre smiled back politely as he pointed to the corner of the king's throne, pointing out to everyone the small, black spider spinning in her web. The slaves and Tria staff all let out sighs of relief and small cheers while the Trolls looked darkly on at Quatre, Dorothy the darkest of all. "Now, I'll just take my Bear and—"

"Three challenges!" Dermail yelled out, casting a slightly worried glance over at his granddaughter before glaring back at Quatre. "Three and you must win all three!"

The grumbles were louder this time, the Bear's displeasure showing in his growl and the tenseness of his muscles, but Quatre merely nodded serenely before he cast his gaze back around the chamber. He caught the concerned look the Bear spared him and gave him a small smile, scratching behind his ears, keeping focused on the Bear's emotions and Trowa's clearer ones through his pendant and trying to keep steady as the emotions in the hall grew more and more intense. He faced Dermail and Dorothy once more and gave them another smile before he gave his second riddle.

"'_Round and 'round it spins, held tight in its master's grasp, knowing nothing more until its master gone at last."_

Dorothy pulled out the golden spool from where she had tucked it into her dress, tossing it up and down and looking expectantly at the king. Dermail glared back at her and sneered his response meanly after he glanced back down at the spider's web. "You were wrong last time granddaughter! This time, I answer and I say a fly."

The slaves groaned in dread and Quatre could feel the sharp incline of despair within his friends and family from Tria, glancing down to where Dermail's talons pointed to, the spider spinning a captured fly tight in her web. Quatre gave a rueful smile and shook his head before he met Dermail's loathsome gaze once more. "You should have heeded your granddaughter; King Dermail…the answer is a spool."

The resulting silence was daunting, especially when Dermail rose from his seat and cursed wildly, the trolls echoing their displeasure while the slaves and Trian household let out breaths of relief. Quatre forced himself to remain calm as Dorothy rose as well, her pleasant and mocking façade thrown away, leaving her face cold and full of fury; if she sensed what he was trying to do, that he was stalling, it was over.

"I say enough of these 'double answered' riddles, dear boy," Dorothy hissed out. "The next challenge will be a physical one and should you fail this one, you fail all."

Quatre took a deep breath and thought for a moment. Physical? What could he do to compete, physically, with a fully grown Troll? He supposed he could challenge the King or Dorothy to a duel of some sort, perhaps a sword fight, but he didn't have his weaponry with him at the moment and he doubted he'd be able to use anything the Trolls would provide. He bit his lip and did not look at the self-satisfied expression he knew to be overtaking Dorothy's face if her emotions were anything to go by, beginning to feel the onset of panic fledge under his skin. But then…then his eyes spotted something matted and tangled in the Bear's snowy white fur.

Faded red candle wax.

He stared at it for a moment. Right there, staring back at him, was the proof of his betrayal, of his foolishness, of his greatest mistake ever made…and at the same time it was also the very thing that might save him, save Trowa. He closed his eyes and faced forward again, fixing his gaze on both Dorothy and the king, smile gone but the determination staying strong.

"The third challenge is that you must clean the Bear's fur of the candle wax completely without harming one strand of fur."

After a few moments of complete stillness, Dorothy strode forward and examined the wax, her eyes on Quatre nearly the entire time. She picked at the wax with her daintier talons, but could not clean any of it out of the fur without tugging on the fur, which always elicited a sharp growl from the Bear beyond the near constant growling he had been giving with her being near him. After a few minutes she huffed in a self-satisfied manner and sweetly asked her grandfather to try. He did, to the same result…as each and every Troll after who tried: failure. Dorothy tittered as the last Troll who attempted took his seat, smiling wide and mockingly apologetic at Quatre, swinging her arms wide and motioning to the whole hall.

"Well, it seems that this little challenge isn't exactly fair, is it? An impossible task, well I'm afraid that means—"

"If I can clean it out, will you concede?" Quatre interrupted. Dorothy gave another laugh, echoed by the Trolls in the hall; Quatre could feel their thoughts. They viewed him as desperate, his plea a last ditch effort to try and save himself. That he was doomed…he saw no reason to enlighten them so he schooled his face into one of desperation and fear. He could feel a rise in Dermail's excitement, so entirely focused on him it sent a wave of nausea through him, but he focused his mind on the Bear, on Trowa, pushing the invading emotions to the side; he didn't need them yet. Dorothy gave another mocking motion and sat back down on her throne, flicking her long blonde hair over her shoulder.

"By all means, Quatre dear."

Quatre didn't bother acknowledging her snide tone and motions; instead, he reached into his cloak and pulled out the golden comb, giving the Bear a small, genuine smile that promised he wouldn't feel a thing. There was a clamor of noise before he began, Dermail rising from his seat yet again and motioning angrily at the comb.

"This, this charlatan, this pretender, has a tool! This contest is—"

"Your rules stated that whatever involved the challenges had to be within this hall…this comb is within this hall is it not?" Quatre raised his eyebrow at the Troll king, careful to not let a smile grace his face at the definite cheers now coming from the captured humans and Elves. Dermail looked livid, but apparently was not about to make himself look more a fool in front of his nobility so he sat back down and motioned for Quatre to continue angrily. Dorothy's ice-blue eyes followed his every movement, her glare deepening even more as he faced the wax, and his shame, completely.

Quatre gave the Bear another small smile, which was returned in the form of a small _whuff_, and took a deep breath before he began carefully and methodically combing the wax out of the Bear's fur. It was awfully symbolic, Quatre mused to himself, humming softly under his breath while he combed out the wax; here he was, cleaning up his mess in a manner that spoke volumes metaphorically and yet was so literal it was almost laughable. It took some time, and he had to be awfully careful with the comb, combing the fur much more gently than he had Deathscythe's hair, but after a time he was finished, his comb completely furless and the snowy white coat unmarred before him and the hall.

And in his hand, was a clump of furless wax, which he promptly dropped on the floor.

Quatre allowed a small, triumphant smile at the looks on the varying Trolls' faces…the looks of utter and complete shock that he, some chit of a boy, had outsmarted their Sorceress so completely. He heard a faint yip and chanced a glance out the hall's windows, feeling a flash of relief at the blur of copper he saw. He slipped the golden comb back into his cloak before he smiled politely and inclined his head towards both Dorothy and the king, settling his hand back on top of the Bear's broad back. Dorothy was staring at him as if she would like nothing better than to rip out his throat with her sharp talons, but she stayed seated, glaring at him; he could feel her hatred and power bubbling just under her skin, practically itching to lash out.

"If there are no other objections, I'll just take my Bear and the Tria household and go—"

Dorothy shrieked and lashed out that power, completely disregarding the Trolls in between herself and Quatre, a red wave of sparks that slashed down the Trolls that stood in its way. The Bear roared in anger and the slaves and Tria staff screamed out in denial, but Quatre stayed still and closed his eyes taking a deep breath and drawing in all the negative emotions, all the fear, all the hatred, all the darkness that he had been trying so hard to keep at bay, bring them all in and waiting. The wave of red kept coming…until it hit a glowing barrier of gold and copper and a small Areenjan, sitting primly and downright smugly in front of the Bear and the blond. The entire hall was silent again as the golden barrier slowly dissolved in a shimmer of light, taking the red spell with it, Dorothy's ice blue eyes bleeding to black as her anger and power grew.

Quatre opened his eyes and grimaced as he met that black glare, a lone tear escaping as the emotions built up within him to a near paralyzing level of pain. "My turn."

After having already done it once, it was supremely easy to project all those negative emotions again; it was as if he had flipped a switch on in his head that he hadn't known was there. Over the course of the flight to the Troll isle, it had even been a struggle to not leak out his excitement naturally…he had reduced a poor deck hand to hysterical giggles during a particularly excited moment he had after coming up with their 'slave infiltration' plan (Duo's name, not Quatre's…Heero had been slightly amused). It was easy to share his positive emotions…it was even easier to share negative emotions that were only partly his own.

He was careful to lash out at only the Trolls and goblins, focusing intently on making sure that the slaves and his friends were spared, and it hit them like a sledgehammer, bowling some of the weaker Trolls over and laying them flat out. Dorothy reacted similarly to how she had in the dream space but was much quicker in bringing up her defenses. She stared back at Quatre, who swayed a bit and had to steady himself against the Bear's body after expelling all the emotions, eyes completely black and her talons lengthening. She started towards him, screaming out orders to the now recovering Troll guards to attack, but before they could, the huge doors to the hall burst open, revealing the armed and very ready crew of the _Peacemillion_, Heero and Auda at the front, looking quite grim and battle-ready. Zechs called out the order to his men and they all charged, some men yelling for the captured to get out of the hall, others handing extra weapons to those who rushed with them.

Quatre, however, was very busy trying not to throw up.

He closed his eyes and tried to find his center again, his entire being thrown off and jumbled up with what was going on around him…he should've expected this, for his empathy to be thrown off after projecting as much as he did. He blinked his eyes rapidly, twisting his fingers within the Bear's fur, his head pounding as all the wild emotions he had been so good at holding back before flooded through him. He saw the Bear swipe angrily as a Troll warrior rushed the pair of them and he could see a blur of bodies and blood, but most of all, he saw Dorothy pick up a long, wicked looking sword, flicking her wrist to fling fighting bodies out of her way. She was staring right at him.

Quatre felt himself inhale sharply and grip the Bear's fur tighter, as he continued to maul a downed Troll, wishing that he'd had enough common sense that morning to grab some sort of weapon. However, before Dorothy took another step, Duo darted out from the crowd, his braid flying behind him not unlike a whip, and he tripped her to the floor with a quick low-kick. He didn't stay long and was beside Quatre quicker than humanly possible, grinning in a manner that clearly said that Quatre was crazy, but that he approved.

"I think you'll need this, Cat," Duo crowed. He reached behind him where his cloak draped over and pulled out the splintered, black staff. "It got you this far, I'm sure it'll help you do battle with the ultimate ugly!"

Quatre took the staff with a grateful nod. Duo flashed him one last feral grin before he pulled out a staff from under his cloak; Quatre had never seen a scythe used in the form of a weapon, but then again, he'd never seen a scythe that instead of a blade, ignited with green fire. It figured that Duo would have such a weapon. Quatre gripped the staff tight and turned back to face Dorothy, who had picked herself up off the floor and looked, if possible, even more wrathful. Nix growled from beside him and leapt at two nearby Trolls, his little body doing damage far beyond what one would expect…until you really looked and saw that Nix was no longer the small kitten-like Nix anymore but a huge, angry, and ferocious looking wild cat that Quatre had seen once in the dream space.

"So, you think this is checkmate, do you Quatre?" Dorothy's voice was like a hiss of steam, hot and boiling in rage, every iota of her being focused only on him. "Shall I remind you of what happened last time your accursed family tried to stand against me?"

Quatre didn't have a chance to respond before the wicked sword came at him; he inhaled sharply and bright up the staff to block, amazed when the splintered and worn looking staff not only blocked, but repelled Dorothy back mockingly. He let out a breath and stared in surprise, as did she, her black eyes wondering when he had gotten such strong friends no doubt. Trowa, the Bear, let out a loud roar, which drew Quatre's attention, and allowed Dorothy the time she needed to re-gather herself and launch at him again. He brought up the staff and blocked it again, glaring darkly and entering the deadly dance with her.

He wasn't the greatest swordsman, and he certainly wasn't the tallest, but he knew what he needed to do and he sure had enough anger built up within him to do it. The staff was bulkier than the short shotels he was accustomed to, but he blocked and parried Dorothy's attacks with a skill that surprised even himself. He couldn't risk glancing around what was going on, to see if Heero and Duo were ok, to see if Cathy had been freed, to see if Wufei had joined in the attack as well as Sally…to see if Trowa was all right. No, Dorothy was all he could focus on…he needed to get her close enough to him, close that she couldn't rip away, close enough for him to touch and hold…

She wouldn't though. And she wasn't tiring. So, he did the only thing he could think to do…he left an opening and braced himself.

It didn't hurt as much as he thought it would, though he wasn't sure how much of that was all the emotions thrumming through him, the insanity of everything around him pressing so hard onto his mind that he simply couldn't cope with actually _feeling_ the sword pierce through his torso, narrowly missing the vitals but definitely leaving a wound he could bleed out of when it was torn out of him. Dorothy was smirking triumphantly, and probably gloating to him, but Quatre noticed one important thing she did not…and that was that she was close. He took a shaky breath and latched onto her wrist, another hand reaching up to her surprised face and her zeroed in on her completely, Zero's words, his mother's words, and Sandrock's words echoing in his head, finally making sense.

He reached deep down within her with his empathy and obliterated what he found: her anger, her hate, her darkness and greed, her power, shredded through it until he got to the core of what Dorothy was and showed it to her, turned it inside out and had her feel how horrible she truly was. His power, his ability, it was simple when it came down to it…he saw the truths that made a person what they were, because in the end, a person was defined by what they felt, what they hated, who they loved. And Dorothy…well, suffice it say that there was nothing redeeming about her once she took a good hard look.

She staggered back, taking the sword with her, black eyes bleeding back to blue and then going white. She took unsteady step backwards and backwards until she was at a large and broken window, with one final scream, still trapped within her own mind and wickedness, she fell, her blood-stained sword clattering to the ground.

And then…then, just at that moment, at high noon, the sun and moon hung over the little island in reversed positions as they began the next stage in each of their journeys and that one island could truly be said to be East of the Sun and West of the Moon. The Bear roared one final time, barreling over a group of troll guards, before he was enveloped by a golden wind and when it dissipated, Trowa stood without a mask and without a band over his eyes his roar transforming into a warrior's battle-cry that paused only when he noticed it was his own voice, not the Bear's. The household and slaves that had been fighting paused in amazement as he brought his hand up to his eyes and stared before they let out cheers and began to redouble their efforts. Quatre saw Cathy rush to her brother, a sledgehammer in her hands, and hug him tightly through her tears.

Quatre staggered back, his own mind reeling from the very real horror of what he had just done, the staff dropping from his shaking fingers, a hand coming up to press against the bleeding wound in his side. He took in a shallow, shaky breath and was too distracted to notice the shadow loom over him until the Troll was already there. He looked up and stared into the face of the Troll King, stared into the face of the family of the woman he had just, effectively, destroyed and could think of nothing to do beyond continue staring. Though, in his defense, he had just been stabbed and then used a great deal of power to rip through Dorothy's subconscious. However, before Dermail could do more than lift his battle axe, Trowa looked up and called out the blond's name, grabbing a forgotten sword from the ground and rushing over –he skidded to a stop in front of Quatre and glared darkly at the Troll.

Dermail sneered at Trowa and raised his broad sword, threatening to hack Trowa down to the ground, which annoyed Quatre after all the work he went through to save him. "You can't kill me, you fool! My granddaughter's curse may be broken but mine still hold you!"

"Hn…well, I'm not cursed." Quatre looked behind Dermail as Heero stepped up, a dark glare on his blood-streaked face, his own broad sword ready in his hands. Dermail had no time to even so much as blink before the sword swung forward with enough force to knock the head clean off, spraying the ground with dark colored blood as the body dropped unceremoniously to the floor. And with his death, the final curse was broken, the remaining Troll nobles and warriors running off as the former slaves, Tria household, and _Peacemillion_ crew erupted into cheers.

Quatre smiled softly as Trowa stepped forward and clasped Heero's arm, a rare but bright smile on his face, Cathy hurrying over with Wufei and Sally following after…he looked even more beautiful that Quatre had remembered. Duo looked as filthy as Heero but was grinning fiercely, has arm possessively around Heero's waist…Quatre took another shaky breath and looked down at where his hand was covering his wound; he was wearing dark clothing but his hand was stained dark red. When he looked back up, Trowa was looking at him, really looking at him and smiling; Quatre felt another smile creep across his face…it had been worth it. Trowa's smile faded as he walked closer, his green eyes taking in Quatre's pale skin, his labored breathing, and at last, drifting down to his stained hand.

Quatre wished more than anything he hadn't been the cause of that panicked and fearful look that overcame his face as he hurriedly closed the rest of the distance between them, that he didn't have to hear Trowa's voice call out his name and for a healer in such a tone. But…it couldn't be helped he guessed…the curses were broken and that was what mattered; Quatre's legs gave out and his last conscious thought was how good it felt to finally feel Trowa's arms around him again and know it wasn't a dream but really him.

That…and a pair of glowing, yellow eyes looking at him in something that may have been approval.

Then, he knew nothing...

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Well...not sure how that turned out...I'm much better at suspense and the threat of danger than action, but meh. Have at it what you will ^_^.

And yes, I'm aware I am cruel and evil. I do apologize for that...kind of haha!


	21. Chapter 21

Candlelight (21/25ish)

Author: Osco

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xS

Rating: R

Warnings: Lemony goodness, violence, language, magical happenings, and ugly Trolls attempting to ruin the story!

Summary: Retelling of the fairy tale, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" GW style. What if you made a mistake? What if the person you loved had to pay the price? How far would you go to save him? How about a place that can't exist?

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I am but a poor state worker who has no hold over the characters whatsoever and is doing this as a pastime.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One: **_**Still**__** Miles to Go…**_

_"I was kind of hoping waking up in this field was behind me now…" _

_Quatre blinked up lazily at the swirling blue sky and watched the clouds twist and turn as rain threatened over head and lightning crackled across the sky. He was so tired…it was an effort to even keep his eyes open, but he knew if he were to close his eyes now, he might not open them again. So, he stared at the stormy sky above him, lying flat on the grass and wondering what exactly he had to do now and hoping that he wasn't dying. That would have been terrible…dying after going through all that work of fixing everything…and on his birthday no less._

_Well, he had been the one to cause all the mess to begin with but he had kind of been hoping that fixing everything would make up for causing everything in the first place. _

"_Oh, my Quatre…what am I going to do with you?"_

_Quatre tilted his head back at an odd angle and looked behind him, staring at the sad, smiling face of Sandrock, her dark hair spilling down her body in graceful waves, a lone streak of silver in the front. She clucked her tongue at him in an exasperated manner before she sat down beside him so he didn't have to crane his head to look at her upside down, running a soft hand through his hair in a motherly fashion. Quatre kept his eyes on her and shrugged his shoulders while she murmured at him sadly in a strange tongue he only half understood; he really wasn't up for talking. His stomach hurt and it was easier to forget that if he kept his breathing steady and slow._

"_You're giving them all quite the scare, you know. Especially your Trowa…you did a very foolish thing."_

_Quatre rolled his eyes and shrugged again. "I had to stop her…I didn't have another option."_

_Sandrock gave him a distinctly unimpressed look before she sighed heavily and laid back with him, one hand grabbing his and running a finger comfortingly over his wrist. "I suppose I can't blame you too much…my Sisters and I did emphasize that _you_ would need to defeat Dorothy by any means. I should have assumed you'd be just as foolhardy as any of us were."_

_Quatre smiled softly and gripped her hand back. "Am I dying?"_

"_Not quite, but you're giving it your best shot." _

"_Oh…I don't really want to die, not after I finally got him back…"_

_Sandrock hummed softly and rested his head under her chin, her hand in his hair drifting down to tickle the back of his neck. "Then you'll have to get up, won't you? You have to remember, you owe not only a task to my Sisters and I…Zero will collect hers as well."_

_Quatre groaned in a tired manner before he rested his eyes for a moment…he was safe to do that in Sandrock's arms, she would wake him up. "Why does she even need me?"_

"_Well, it's not just you she needs. But, she needed you to save Trowa AND Wufei before you'd be of any use to her. Five were needed to face Epyon before, and five are needed now…Zero is nothing if not practical, always one to stick with a method that has been proven to work."_

"_I'm sure that has some sort of relevance all revolving around my being a 'prince' and what not but…I'm not sure I even care about that right now."_

_Sandrock laughed gently and squeezed him tighter to her. "I suppose not, my dear. But, first things first, you need to wake up! Enough of this lazing about, you're worrying the people who love you and delaying the tongue lashing they most certainly deserve to give you!"_

"_Like yours doesn't count?"_

"_Well, I'm family, Quatre. It always counts, but that doesn't mean theirs doesn't either."_

_Quatre pushed himself away and let Sandrock pull him to his feet, somehow standing above him quicker than possible, but she was kind of a Goddess…it was to be expected. He brushed the grass out of his hair and gave her a sad and somewhat hesitant expression. "It'll hurt, won't it, when I wake up?"_

_Sandrock nodded, but placed a comforting hand on his cheek. "Yes, but won't it be worth it to see your Trowa again, to truly see him? You have already suffered so much, my own, both from others and your own self…don't you deserve to see his face, to feel his hands, to taste him and know it is all real?" _

_Quatre looked down and nodded, feeling ashamed and guilty that he was being so selfish, taking in a deep breath and letting it out, trying to not focus on the sharp twinge he felt in his torso. "Well, when you put it like that. Sandrock?"_

"_Yes, my dear Quatre?"_

"_Did I…did I do the right thing, with Dorothy I mean?" Quatre clenched his hands and tried not to remember the Sorceress' horror and fear at being forced to confront what she was, at how Quatre had ripped away the illusions she had about herself and forced her to see what she truly was without all her power and facades. He knew he shouldn't feel bad about it, that Dorothy had done worse things, things a hundred times worse…she had threatened and hurt Trowa…but still, he felt a dark sense of guilt in his gut over what he had done. It made him feel as if he had forged some kind of connection with her, the woman who had destroyed both sides of his family…like they were similar in a way now whereas before they had not been._

"_Quatre…you did what you were meant to do. You alone could break those curses because it was you who had been excluded from all of them and the curses would only be broken in death or if they were released…and Dorothy would never have released hers, same for her grandfather." Sandrock engulfed Quatre in a hug, a hug that was the touch of a mother, and pressed a loving kiss to his forehead. "Do not despair, if you grieve, grieve for the woman Dorothy could have been not for what she forced your hand to commit."_

_Quatre took another deep breath and nodded, looking into Sandrock's blue eyes, eyes that echoed the ocean and Quatre's own, and nodded. She was right, of course she was right. "I'll try."_

"_Good boy…now, time to wake up! And, do be sure to say hello and thank my Sisters, will you? You know how much they appreciate manners!"_

_And, with that, Quatre fell up._

…

…

…

Quatre opened his eyes to a rush of movement, blurry voices, and a very sharp pain coming from his left side. He felt arms carrying him and his head was resting on a strong shoulder; he didn't need to look up to know it was Trowa holding him. He blinked a few times and realized the rush of movement had nothing to do with being disoriented, but rather everything to do with the fact that he was being carried by someone running and begging him to hold on, that everything would be ok. He let out a breath, which came out as more of a choked gasp of pain, and tightened his arm against Trowa's back, turning his face inwards, pressing his nose into the dip at the base of Trowa's throat.

"Quatre? Are you –just hold on, all right, you'll be fine!" Trowa's voice was panicked and not at all like Quatre remembered, even when he had been scared and confused in the dream space.

"He shouldn't talk, Trowa…Dorothy may have clipped his lungs and if he's bleeding internally, we don't want to aggravate it any further by fluctuations in breathing." That would be Heero, always straight and to the point.

"Shit…shit shit shit! Get me another rag; Tro, you have to try not to jostle him, we need to stop the bleeding." Quatre felt supremely bad for putting that much fear and worry into Duo's voice; the Elf didn't sound right with it there.

"Where the hell did Sally go?" Ah, Noin was still there…good to know. He wanted to apologize to as many people as possible in one go. He started to laugh softly at his own humor but trailed off when it sent burning pains across his stomach, hitching his breath instead.

"She had to grab supplies from the medical wing here, just get him to the _Peacemillion_! I don't trust that any surface we lay him on here wouldn't give an infection! Go to the left, we moved the ship to the main harbor this morning once Nix signaled us." Quatre frowned at hearing Zechs there…he should really be attending to all those poor, injured slaves and soldiers. Quatre had enough people worried over him, no need to add one more when he'd be useful elsewhere.

Nix yipped and growled from somewhere below, telling Quatre he was running in front of Trowa, guiding the small group through the best pathway to get back to the ship. He closed his eyes and tried to not let nausea get the better of him…he'd feel wretched if he threw up on Trowa on top of bleeding all over him. Closing his eyes, not falling back into sleep, also gave him the illusion that they were getting there quicker and it gave him a moment to focus on his emotions for the first time all day, feeling relief that the cacophony from earlier was at last silent. He had no doubt that Sandrock had somehow lent a hand in strengthening his purposefully destroyed mental blocks.

He was fairly sure that he hadn't passed out a second time, but the next things Quatre was cognizant of was the sounds of feet echoing on metal and the sunlight all around him before being removed completely. He blinked his eyes open again and took in the familiar hallways of the _Peacemillion _before he focused back on Trowa's skin in front of him…it was so odd to see him knowing the sun was still out. He felt a smile tug at his lips, despite the pain and guilt and light-headedness, and breathed out shallowly, trying to ignore the wet feeling that built up in his throat from inhaling and exhaling.

"Trowa, bring him in here!" Quatre blinked his eyes briefly over at Cathy, whose red hair was bunch back away from her dirt-streaked face, worry etched deeply into her pretty face. "Sally just got here and has everything set up…oh Ladies…"

"Not needed right now, Cathy," Duo growled in annoyance. Quatre could only assume she was exclaiming at the amount of blood lost and Duo didn't want to worry Trowa anymore than he already was…which was understandable. Still, he tried to manage a small smile for her…she didn't mean to create more stress and worry, she was just scared; little by little, his empathy was beginning to return to him, the emotions of all those he cared about floating around him, keeping his head afloat.

"Put him down Trowa, and be careful! That wound is probably sticking to the fabric of your tunic and we don't want to tear off anymore skin."

Quatre blinked up at Sally's worn but focused face, wincing only a little as he was peeled off and laid down on a clean and sterile table; his wound had dulled somewhat in pain, though Quatre wasn't sure how much of that was simply shock. He closed his eyes and reached out blindly for Trowa's hand…he didn't want to be apart from him for even a second, not after finally having him back after so long. He vaguely heard Sally shout for the others to get out of the room, asking that Duo stay behind and help her with the 'tricky' parts since he'd had some training in Healing before, but he found that steady hand and latched on with a strength that he shouldn't have had given the amount of blood he's lost.

"Quatre—"

"Stay…please _mu'Hibb_, stay." Quatre's words were little more than a hoarse whisper but Trowa heard them nonetheless, his hand gripping back tight as if to keep him tethered and with them.

"I'll stay, _mon cher_, I'll stay."

Quatre smiled softly around the pain he felt when Sally began poking and prodding his wound, pulling away the destroyed tunic, and closed his eyes again. He could feel Trowa's steady thrum of emotions filter into him, the pulse of his concern, the wide expanse of his love, that sharp taste of his fear…Quatre drank it all in like a dying man, which he wasn't too far from at the moment. For too long he'd only had the copper pendant to link himself to Trowa, to connect himself and feel the man in a way only he could, and now, now that he had him back, he wasn't about to let it go.

It was funny…before Trowa he'd always thought of his gift as kind of a bother, something that set him apart from everyone else, made him odd. It still did all those things but…but he couldn't imagine life without the tightly woven connection that had been forged between the two of them. It became as necessary as breathing, it was simple as that. Letting all of Trowa, the good the bad, the frightened and the brave, the Prince and the Bear, wash over him, he drifted back into sleep, confident that he would be safe with Trowa there, holding his hand.

* * *

"Well I guess we'll have to work around you then, but if this gets serious, you're leaving the room, you hear?" Sally quirked an eyebrow at Trowa for a moment before she busied herself with peeling away the bloody tunic from the slender blond's skin, her eyes furrowing in concentration as she examined her charge. "Duo, soak that rag in that dish and place it over his mouth for thirty seconds…he's out now but I need to make sure he stays that way when I'm trying to stitch up the gaping hole he's gotten himself."

Trowa watched with worried eyes as Duo did as instructed, wondering belatedly what exactly the Elven bard was even doing here in the first place, before he focused back on Quatre, his brave, beautiful, horribly hurt Quatre. He had found him, Quatre had travelled across the unfamiliar Fey to an enchanted fortress and set in motion the events that broke a pair of curses all to find Trowa and save him. Quatre, who was barely more than a boy really, had risked his life to find Trowa, even though Trowa had told him not to…Trowa had not thought it possible to love him anymore than he already had, but staring at his peaceful, unconscious face, looking at how hurt he was, he found that he did.

And it was terrifying that Quatre could die…that he could lose this amazing young man after he'd just brought everything back to him, to Trowa. He took a deep breath and ignored how it shuddered, grasping the cool, limp hand tighter in both of his own, resting all three against his forehead, praying to any god who could listen to not take away the blond, to keep him here with him. Everything had happened so fast before and now…now he was having a problem trying to separate what was real and what wasn't. If he was still stuck in a dream and the curse not broken or if he was Human once more and Quatre was lying unmoving before him.

He remembered the dreams. When he was the Bear, he remembered a smiling blond coming to him and telling him that he was trapped but that he would save him, breaking through the enchantments that Dorothy had kept him under every night. As the Bear, his awareness and memories were limited, almost always overridden by his bestial instincts but…whenever it came to Quatre, that was never the case. The Bear had loved Quatre just as much as Trowa had and it helped him get through the days when he could barely keep a hold on who he was without his awareness at night to counter the Bear during the day.

He had been terrified when Quatre had whipped off his cowl and stepped forward; terrified but thrilled at the same time and had felt so complete when those arms had wrapped around his neck and held tight. The battle had been a blur of motion and blood, nothing really sticking in his memory until the golden wind…then he'd been standing and hearing as Trowa again, as a man. And he'd smiled…smiled while Quatre was bleeding and hurt, not noticing until Dermail was dead and the blond had collapsed onto him.

"Duo, you need to keep the pressure on that stitching, I'll get the Blood Salve. Trowa, can you help with something?" Sally looked weary and haggard, blood stains decorating her hands, face, and clothing, Trowa not entirely sure what was Quatre's and what wasn't. He'd seen the Healer in the battle…she'd taken out her frustrations at being kept away from her husband for so long quite viscerally. Trowa pushed aside everything and nodded, rising up from his seat, still keep the limp hand within one of his own.

"What do you need?" Quatre couldn't use his fear and anger right now…he needed him to be able to do something, to help him.

"I need you to try and filter comforting emotions into him," Sally grimaced out. "The Salve…it'll help but it will be painful…I generally don't use this Salve but as we have limited choice we have to. We have a better chance of keeping him sedated if you filter in positive emotions…"

Sally trailed off at the look that Trowa knew must have crossed his face…it wasn't right, hurting him further to help him? Trowa nodded his head tersely and tried to do as Sally instructed, tried to focus on only how much he loved Quatre, how happy he was that he had found him, how good it felt to hold the slender hand in his own, feel the new blisters and roughness that hadn't been there before. Sally gave him an apologetic look and scooped a blob of red cream with a spatula, murmuring that she'd go as quickly as she could and leaning over the cleaned, deep wound. However, she took a moment to look up as a shadow came into the room, the shadow of a very tall, broad woman with a large crossbow strapped across her back, flat hair twisted back away from her face. Sally straightened and stared, elbowing Duo, who was focused on keeping the stab wound from bleeding, who glared at her in annoyance and then looked up.

Trowa blinked a few times as he stared at the woman, wondering why he felt he should know her and feeling a sense of protective instincts well up as she stared down at Quatre's unconscious form, a smirk on her face.

"I leave you alone for not even a month, and look what you go and do to yourself. You desert rats never learn how to keep your skins clean, do you?" The woman looked up at the small group staring at her, hazel eyes deep and penetrating. "There's no need to torture the boy to make him well, I can certainly provide better medical attention that Troll goods. Scat."

Sally took a step back as the huge woman lumbered over shooing her away, Duo tipped out of his chair but Trowa remained where he was, tightening his grip on Quatre's hand and glaring at the woman in, what Cathy called, his best 'princely' manner. "Who are you?"

The woman arched a brow at him and chuckled under her breath, shooting Trowa a grim smile as she pulled a vacated stool forward and sat down. "I'm the one who saved this boy here in your dreamscape some weeks past, the one who has been helping him reach _you_. My Sisters and I have many names, but you can call me Heavyarms...it's proven the most popular over the years. Now, if you're done with the suspicions, I need to help this careless desert rat, now don't I?"

Trowa felt his eyes go wide and he sat back without a word, looking down at Quatre for a moment in sheer amazement. He remembered the blond telling him that Sandrock had spoken with him, and while that was elusive enough, here Heavyarms was, saying she had spoken with him as well! And not just that, Heavyarms implied that the others, all five Ladies, were somehow involved in this situation…Trowa could barely begin to grasp the implications it meant for his Quatre that so many thought so much of him.

Heavyarms cracked her knuckles and placed her hands over the stab wound, an inquisitive expression crossing her face for a moment before a green glow formed around her hands and covered the wound. "He's lucky…apart from nicking his lung, he got off relatively mild with this; nothing vital was hit. Sure makes my job easier."

"So, uh, will he be better after this?" Duo had picked himself off the ground and was fiddling with the end of his braid, violet eyes darting from Trowa to Quatre back to Heavyarms. "I mean, he's not going to die, is he?"

"Did you not hear what I said? Nothing vital…he'll be sore and groggy for a few days but he'll walk away from this with nothing but a scar when I'm done." Heavyarms allowed a softer smile at the looks of relief that enveloped each of their faces, shaking her head as Duo darted out, shouting that he had to spread the good word. "Honestly…not sure what Deathscythe was thinking when she picked that one."

"She was thinking what a brilliant decision it was and how she wouldn't find another one better for the trials ahead, you big-footed mammoth! At least mine isn't a mute!"

"Hardly a mute, he's just selective when he speaks, there's a difference, you air-headed witch."

"You shouldn't fight while a healing is in process…it's counter-productive."

Trowa stared in amazement as three other women materialized in the room, each as different from the other as the last; Trowa knew who they were, and so did Sally, if her soft curses and wide eyes were anything to go by. The Ladies…nearly all present and accounted for, hovering over Quatre, his fiancé Quatre, like worried aunts. Deathscythe was glaring at Heavyarms and petting Quatre's hair softly, flashing Trowa beside her a wink every now and then. She had impossible long, white hair that reached the floor and coiled a few times in the shape of a soft braid, sharp ears poking out from the winged headdress around her ears, and a playful look on her young face.

"You best take care of this one, you hear young Prince? He risked an awful lot to help you; in fact, this is his handiwork!" Deathscythe gestured at her hair and smiled bright again. "Speaking of which, I need to get my comb back…"

"You'll get it when he wakes up." The woman on the other side of Heavyarms was not as tall as Deathscythe but she was much less willowy than the Elven Witch, with shaggy brown hair and dark blue eyes. She reminded Trowa of Heero…she had to be Wing. Wing scowled at the smiling Deathscythe and mumbled darkly under her breath. "At least your trinket isn't covered in Troll guts."

"Hush, the pair of you! Heavyarms is trying to work!" The last was Nataku, a woman Trowa had seen once before when he first met Wufei, her face the oldest one of the bunch and Dark hair pulled back into a simple ponytail at the base of her neck. She shot an apologetic look towards both Trowa and Sally before she clucked he tongue at the unconscious Quatre. "Sorry about them…we haven't all been together for some time…sometimes I wonder how exactly we saved the Fey when we spent so much time arguing with one another."

"Because we were supremely powerful and clever of course!" Deathscythe shouted back, a pout on her face. "And still are you know, just because we're sort of dead doesn't mean we became decrepit."

Trowa watched the Ladies with something akin to amazement (though it certainly didn't show on his face) as they bickered and smiled at each other, shooting Quatre fond glances every now and then while Heavyarms worked. He found Sally's equally amazed gaze for a moment, her worn face looking as if it hadn't endured four months of captivity for a moment as she watched thing being of legend converse right there with them. He knew she was wondering the same thing as he was…what had Quatre done and gone through to get here and how did it involve these Ladies?

"There, all done. I'd still keep his torso bandaged for a week at least; make sure that everything stays where it should. Wouldn't want him to strain anything after I went through all the trouble of fixing him." Heavyarms stood back and quirked her eyebrows down at Trowa for a moment before she motioned and the others headed out the door. "Come on, get…give them a bit of privacy. You to, Healer."

Sally stood up with Nataku when the Lady motioned for her to, brushing somewhat consciously at her dirty clothes under the beautiful Lady's gaze. Deathscythe and Wing followed in short order after Heavyarms, leaving the giant woman to give Trowa a nod and smile before she shut the door. "Bring him out after he's woken up…we need to speak with him for a bit."

Trowa was left staring at the closed door for a few blank moments before his eyes shifted back to Quatre, who was still asleep but no longer deathly pale, no longer with a gaping wound at his side. He shifted in his seat, cradling Quatre's hand closer to his chest, the other hand reaching across to brush lightly at the slightly red scar above his left hip, needing to assure himself that it really was healed, that Heavyarms had truly made him whole. He jolted back and immediately sought out ocean blue eyes when he heard a soft, whispering giggle.

"You know I'm ticklish there, _mu'Hibb_." Quatre's voice was soft and scratchy but Trowa had never heard anything so wonderful in all his life. He stood up from his stool so fast it tipped over and leaned over Quatre's smiling face, resting his forehead against the blond's and cupping his jaw with his hands, his eyes slipping closed as he felt weak fingers stroke his forearm. Trowa wasn't quite sure which way he was facing, up down, back, forward or what as everything seemed to have just righted itself, but he did know that he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so at peace and happy. It was only after a moment's contemplation that he realized it wasn't just him he was feeling…he pulled away and smoothed Quatre's bangs away from his face, staring straight into blue eyes that had haunted his dreams.

"You can project." It wasn't a question but still held the tone of one.

"How about that, uh? It's really easy…especially with someone I love." Trowa leaned forward again and buried his face in Quatre's neck, inhaling deeply and tightening his hold around the young man as his hands shifted to wrap under his back and behind his neck, playing with the soft strands of hair. "I'm so sorry, Trowa…sorry for everything…none of this should have happened and I—"

Trowa didn't want to hear those apologies, certainly didn't want them, and needed Quatre to understand that he didn't need to give them so he stopped them the best proven method. He kissed Quatre, hard, feeling something that was still the Bear within him stir at the sharp inhale of breath Quatre took in through his nose, his fingers reaching up to grip softly the bits of Trowa he could reach. Trowa moved his arms gently and grasped both of those hands with his own, pinning them back down to flat surface; Quatre should not be moving too much, he was still weak from the loss of blood.

Trowa pulled away and stared down into Quatre's tear-fogged eyes and smiled at him…which seemed to trigger everything that had happened in the past few months and past few hours for the young man. Trowa gently tugged Quatre up and held him close, tucking his head into the crook of Trowa's shoulder, letting him get it all out, holding tighter when the shaking of Quatre's shoulders jolted him too much. He had no way of imagining what Quatre had gone through these past few months, and though he doubted Quatre would believe him, he imagined they were worse than his own. He'd been kept enchanted most of the time and left as the Bear for the rest…he knew that his sister, Sally, Wufei and all the others had suffered, but not as bad as it could have been.

Quatre though…Quatre had a bit of a problem when it came to assigning blame. Trowa had never met anyone so apt to blame himself for anything in his life and while it was a beautiful quality at times because it showed just how compassionate Quatre was, it also left the shaking mess in his arms as well. Trowa had never blamed Quatre for what happened…he'd been angry at first and upset but once the initial despair had lifted he thought back and found that he had been asking the impossible of the blond from the beginning. He had been thrust into a world he didn't understand and saddled with a prince who was twice cursed when all was said and done…cursed in a manner that kept Quatre apart from him in some form no matter what. And then, his father had been killed by the very sorceress who had cursed Trowa…frankly, he admired Quatre's restraint because if the situations had been reversed, Trowa wondered if he would have had the strength to stay.

Quatre's shaking tapered off a bit but he still would not look at Trowa. The tall prince detached the shorter man from his torso and tilted the guilt-ridden face upwards, thumbs wiping away the tear trails that stained his cheeks. His hands cupped Quatre's chins, jaw, cheekbones, everything, willing the Empath to feel what he felt; no anger, no shame, no regret, just relief that he was all right and love for him. Quatre took another shuddering breath but opened his eyes this time and stared at Trowa for a moment before he spoke in a tired murmur.

"Why…why aren't you angry? Do you—I sent everyone to this hellhole, I activated your curses and I nearly destroyed your country! Why do you...?" _Still want me. _Trowa frowned at the unspoken question he heard; how long had Quatre been thinking this, how long had he thought that even after saving Trowa, that the Trian prince wouldn't want him?

"Quatre," Trowa began softly. "You risked your life and nearly got killed saving everyone…saving me. You made a mistake when you were consumed with grief and confusion, but I made one when I made you come to Tria, knowing I was cursed and how unlikely it would be that a solution could be found…even if you had lasted the full year and a day, you still would never have been able to see my face."

Quatre made to argue in Trowa's defense, shaking his head no when Trowa mentioned that he made Quatre come or that it was a mistake in any way, but Trowa shook his head and continued, wondering briefly when the last time he'd spoken so much was. He guessed Quatre just brought it out within him.

"You did nothing wrong, nothing any other hurt or sane person would have done. You saved me Quatre, I doomed you and you saved me…you travelled across a land you had no clue about and found me…how could I not want you?" The last part was spoken in a harsh whisper, the bits of the Bear still bleeding into his voice and he gripped Quatre's face tighter. "How could you think I could stop loving you?"

Silence hung between them for a moment, Trowa trying his best to filter the intensity of what he was feeling, what Quatre made him feel, into the blond and watching the dark blue eyes carefully, waiting for his words to sink in. Quatre stared for a moment before he sighed and sagged forward, wincing no doubt as he folded his newly-healed torso over a bit. He smiled softly and sadly as he stroked Trowa's thigh, blinking his eyes at Trowa in a bemused sort of fashion. The dark guilt was beginning to recede, leaving confusion and relief mingled together with hope; Quatre was tired and pale but the small smile he gave lit up his while being and Trowa had never seen anything so captivating in all his years.

Trowa smiled down at Quatre softly before kissing him again, lingering around him and letting him fill up every one of his senses, letting the soft blond hair tickle his face, and feeling his heart swell up in his chest when Quatre's lips smiled into his own. They stayed like that for a time, no words exchanging between them, just touches, sounds, and love, both needing to convince himself that the other was really there and that this time, it wouldn't end with the dream. Eventually they did speak, the conversation dominated mainly by Quatre who told Trowa everything that had happened from the moment he'd been swept away, but Trowa interjected when needed. They spoke of the dreams, of Nix, of the Ladies, of Quatre's lineage, of Trowa's time as the Bear.

They spoke of Zero and Trowa had felt a flash of rage that his Quatre had been challenged by Zero, remembering his own trial and how he had nearly killed his sister in his confusion. Quatre was an Empath, a powerful one if his journey and experiences, and what Trowa witnessed as the Bear, were any indication; he could not imagine how terrible the experience must have been for him. When Trowa mentioned that four of the Ladies were outside, Quatre had just smiled and shook his head, laughing that those women were never going to leave him alone now. Trowa helped wrap Quatre's torso in some stiff bandages Sally had left behind as Heavyarms had suggested and then helped the blond stand to his feet, taking much of the young man's weight as his blood loss left him dizzy and unsteady.

"We don't have to do this now." Trowa looked at Quatre steadily, but the blond simply smiled and shook his head.

"They took the time to travel all the way here…least I can do is go talk to them in a timely manner."

Trowa sighed but didn't comment further because he knew a losing battle when he heard one; Quatre was exceedingly stubborn when he wanted to be. He pushed the door open and helped Quatre out, shaking his head at the group of people who was waiting outside, a silent warning to not rush over and hug the blond. Quatre shot Trowa an annoyed look, as the prince should have expected since Quatre could obviously feel his protectiveness, before he smiled at everyone, at Sally, Wufei, Cathy, S, Hilda, Howard; at Duo and Heero, at Noin and Zechs, at all the people who had been so worried about him. He spoke briefly with them, mainly taking their scolding and gratefulness silently with a small smile before a small yip drew everyone's attention.

Trowa looked down and still felt amazement at the sight of the small, legendary Areenjan named Nix who had, apparently, become Quatre's guide and protector. The little Desert Cat had also seemed to adopt Quatre as his own, yipping and purring as he rubbed against the blond's legs; Trowa remembered that Cat being distinctly larger a few hours ago when he was the Bear. Nix yipped again and bounced ahead, looking back at Trowa with all-blue, swirling eyes and pointed ears flicking back in humor, his fur shifting from copper to sand with shimmers of silver as he walked. He was clearly motioning him to follow. Trowa did and Nix turned behind once more yipping at the others as well much to their surprise…it looked like whatever the Ladies wished to discuss with Quatre was meant for all of their ears.

All four were waiting for them on the main deck of the airship, the crew and rescued slaves and Trian household staff staring in awe at the beings from their legends materialized before their eyes. Quatre leaned away from Trowa as they got closer, giving them a wan smile. The other hung back as Nix came to a stop, allowing Trowa and Quatre on alone, but Nataku huffed and shook her head, pointing at each Heero, Duo, and Wufei and beckoning them forward. Trowa glanced back and watched as they did so, Duo and Wufei both looking somewhat confused while Heero merely scowled.

"Well, first things first, I need that comb back now, Quatre." Deathscythe smiled wide and held out her hand. Quatre pulled out the comb but Duo plucked it out of his hand and walked it forwards shaking his head at the blond before he smiled brightly at Deathscythe.

"That thing worked out a lot better than I thought it would, Lady," Duo quipped lightly, earning a laugh from the Witch and eye rolls from the others.

"Well, I did tell him to hold it until the end…looks like you were every bit as clever as I thought, young Winner!"

Quatre looked questioningly at Wing and Nataku before Wing shook her head shortly and held up her hand with Nataku, showing a golden spool and thread and apple respectively. "We took the liberty of retrieving our gifts to you, you need not worry."

"We have several words to say, and first I speak for each of us in saying that you Quatre did quite well," Nataku smiled brightly. "I congratulate you on defeating Dorothy and defeating both curses afflicting your prince…in doing so you averted disaster and certainly did us a great help."

Nataku motioned for Wing to step forward, the short, wild looking woman glaring at each with her hooded, sharp blue eyes. "Second, I wish to remind you that you are not finished."

Quatre merely nodded, but the deck broke out in shouts and cries of anger and dismay, not at all happy with what Wing announced, but Trowa also stayed still. They had already discussed this and Trowa knew that Quatre wouldn't be making any sort of journey alone anymore. Wing held up her hand and growled, willing everyone silent once more.

"You may disagree but the fact is that Quatre promised Sandrock the tasks she gave him in exchange for the gifts she gave." Wing's face softened somewhat before she turned back to Quatre, shrugging her shoulders lightly and nodding in approval for his own understanding. "You promised to aid the Fey in exchange for our help in freeing the Trian prince and you have done so, but this was only one part of the puzzle. You know of whom I speak."

Quatre nodded as Wing stepped back; Duo and Wufei shot him looks while Heero's scowl grew deeper and more pronounced. Duo elbowed him and looked questioningly at the Sive prince, who mouthed something Trowa did not catch but guessed at when he saw all the color drain from the normally jovial Elf's face. Wufei looked between all four of them and threw up his hands in disgust, focusing his gaze back on the Ladies in hope for clarification. Heavyarms stepped forward, making the deck shake with her footfalls.

"Third, I tell you that Zero is moving once more." The silence that came after the Lady's words was deafening. "Dorothy and her Trolls were but a part of something much more dangerous threatening the Fey, something that has not set foot on our lands in many ages…Zero knew of this and sought you out, Desert Prince, because she picked you to face it. Treize Kushrenada is attacking the Human kingdoms of Venti and Kushrenada and winning…soon he will move on to the Elven nations and then the Colony Kingdoms…and Epyon is with him."

The silence exploded into a flurry of gasps and whispers for a moment as the name Epyon struck a chord with each of them…they all knew the stories of Epyon, the failure of Zero's challenge who did not die but became a monster. Heavyarms nodded grimly before she focused on the five young men before her. "You did a good thing, Quatre, in stopping Dorothy from gaining a foothold in the Colonies to aid in Epyon's plan for destruction, but now Treize must be stopped if the Fey is to survive."

Heavyarms stepped back and Deathscythe stepped forward, a smile on her young face that made her look quite a bit older, as if she were really a crone masquerading in a young woman's body. She gave a bow to the five of them before giving Trowa and Quatre a playful wink.

"But, good news is Quatre, is that this is not only your task." She grinned wider and looked at each of them before continuing. "It is all of yours, given to you by Zero and later by us, the Great Ladies. And because I'm a sweetheart, I'll give you one more hint Desert Prince, one that will prove just as helpful as the last, as long as you're clever about it. Five were needed to face Epyon when she first threatened, just as five are now, and it is five she will fear above all else. Remember that she fears you just as much as you fear her, boys, and you might just pull this off."

Deathscythe paused for a moment before focusing solely on Quatre again, her words a mere whisper in the all-consuming quiet of the hall. "Remember her words, Quatre…remember to call when you fully know who you are."

And with a wink and a nod she, and each of the other Great Ladies present, blinked out of sight…leaving Trowa holding Quatre tighter to him and wondering what exactly his freedom had cost his lover…and how exactly five young men were supposed to defeat Epyon…

* * *

And there we have it ^_^. We're getting down to the end, my readers, and I hope you'll stick around with me to see it! Oh...and expect some good old fashioned 3x4x3 loving soon (the poor boys are overdue it after all ^_^). Cheers.

Osco


	22. Chapter 22

Candlelight (22/25ish)

Author: Osco

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xS

Rating: R

Warnings: Lemony goodness, violence, language, magical happenings, and ugly Trolls attempting to ruin the story!

Summary: Retelling of the fairy tale, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" GW style. What if you made a mistake? What if the person you loved had to pay the price? How far would you go to save him? How about a place that can't exist?

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I am but a poor state worker who has no hold over the characters whatsoever and is doing this as a pastime.

* * *

**Candlelight Chapter Twenty-Two: **_**Into Your Arms**_

"Quatre Rab'erba Winner-Barton, I don't care if you 'think' you feel fine, you're going to park yourself back in that bed until I say you can't, you hear? Prince or not, I'm still your attending physician and I'm the one who gets to judge if that hole in your side is healed enough for you to start doing anything that requires more than walking to use the bathroom. Now sit."

Quatre frowned at Sally but did as she commanded (because it certainly wasn't a request) and rested back against the small, cramped bed in the makeshift medical wing she'd set up on the _Peacemillion_. She had grumbled something fierce when she first had started, asking Zechs angrily why, on an airship this size and with a crew as big as his, he'd felt it necessary to convert the old medical rooms into cold storage, leaving her with nothing but a cramped closet to work in. It had been humorous, watching Sally tell off a very sheepish looking Zechs as she set up medic tents for the injured slaves and staff on the deck of the air ship—it actually was lucky the ship was so big, otherwise they would have had to leave people on that island. Still, Sally hadn't let Quatre stay with everyone else, saying that even though Heavyarms had healed him, he was still too weak to fight off infections and didn't need to be around anyone who was sick.

That, and she probably took pity on him; each and every one of the captured people and Elves on that island had all taken to looking at Quatre like he was their savior; it made him uncomfortable. He really didn't believe he deserved it as he hadn't gone to that island to save them, he'd gone to save Trowa; saving them had just been a nice bonus, but he really didn't deserve all the adoring stares. It was Zechs, Miss Noin, and their crew that they should be thanking…and they were, just not as much as they all seemed to thank Quatre.

It had been a very odd and hurried couple of weeks as the _Peacemillion_ took in all the former slaves from the Troll isle and began the much slower journey of ferrying them all back to Aires, mindful of the many injured on board. For most of it, Quatre hadn't really been allowed to move that much, as even though Heavyarms had healed the wound, he'd still lost a lot of blood and was weakened easily. In fact, the only time he'd been allowed out of bed for the first few days was for his own impromptu wedding, and he'd been put right back once it was over, to his great disappointment.

He still felt a small smile stretch across his face, even as Sally was poking him, at the thought of his wedding, of him and Trowa finally being married. Cathy had been offended and promised that when everything was over and they were back home in Tria, they'd have to have a 'proper' wedding ceremony, but Quatre had liked it well enough. Seeing Trowa in the light of day, no mask, no shadow band, nothing but his handsome face, small upturn of a smile and deep green eyes had been wonderful and felt almost sacred after all that had happened. Normalcy, he certainly wouldn't take it for granted ever again!

It had actually been Heero who suggested they have their bonding ceremony as quickly as possible, that way there would be no more issues or tricks to try and get between their union (mainly, Heero had heard how Dermail responded when Quatre had announced himself as Bonded to Trowa and was being paranoid…though Quatre had not really found much resistance to the idea). When one of the former slaves stepped forward and stated he was an ordained minister and would be honored to Bond them, tears in his eyes, and hands shaking, Quatre had given up what little resistance to the idea he had—there was no way he could deny a man who'd been kept as a slave for untold years the joy of what he had lived to do while free.

And being bound to Trowa wasn't exactly something he viewed as a chore—he just wished he still wasn't so pale and tired so he could've enjoyed it more, the ceremony and the wedding night.

He'd been separated from Trowa for months with nothing but disturbing (though sometimes quite erotic) dreams to bring them together and now that they were finally together again, they were still kept separate in terms of physical intimacy. He felt somewhat bad that he was getting all worked up over something that was, admittedly, very childish (he could admit that getting ornery over not having sex with Trowa made him seem a bit too much like his age when he'd spent the last year proving how mature he could be…), but there was no help for it. It was how he felt and he was getting annoyed at being constantly treated like he was now made of glass and needed to be handled 'fragilely' due to his injury from Dorothy.

And it wasn't just Trowa or Sally or Heero who felt that way, it was everyone on board: Trian servants, former slaves from all over the Fey, even Nix was conspiring against him and it was starting to drive him crazy. He'd been hurt, not crippled—and hadn't he just saved the Fey? Certainly he deserved more than a kiss on the forehead or a gentle hug for that…he sighed and bit down the swell of frustration mingled with guilt the thought evoked within him. He'd nearly died and had almost lost Trowa…he should be happy with what he could get. But he wasn't…and no one was all that sympathetic to his plight. No one, that is, except for Duo, who found the whole situation a bit too amusing for Quatre to say the Elf was truly on his side—he'd taken it upon himself the last time he'd been in the room with Quatre and Trowa to make obscene gestures behind the Trian prince's back, laughing silently at each dark glare Quatre mustered up.

Still, Duo didn't think he needed to be wearing five blankets to ward off a chill (like Heero did), so Quatre wasn't as annoyed with him as he was with everyone else.

Part of Quatre knew that they all had good reason to be a bit more worried (paranoid if you were Heero) than usual. The freed slaves had been held captive and abused for months, maybe years, the Trian servants had been very close to becoming slaves themselves and had lived in a constant state of fear and filth for the past four months, Sally and Wufei had gone through that as well as being held in separate cells for the majority of their imprisonment, Cathy had been kept relatively safe, but she'd still been a prisoner and Trowa…well, he'd almost got saddled with an evil, Troll sorceress as a wife. And Quatre had been responsible for all of that, well apart from the slaves' plights, and had almost gotten killed in trying to fix everything which had made the others feel guilty…it was all a jumble of mixed emotions on board the _Peacemillion_ at the moment, especially when you added the fact that Treize was steadily taking over the Human nations of the Fey with the help of Epyon, which everyone was dwelling on after the Ladies' pronouncement. Quatre was relatively glad his empathy was still a bit frayed from what he'd done to Dorothy, to be honest; everything kind of drifted by him but it wasn't focused and felt more like fuzzy whispers opposed to actual emotions.

"Quatre, lift your arm to the side of you and hold it straight." He did as Sally asked, raising his eyebrows when she glanced up at his ability to keep the arm steady and straight, smiling softly at the unimpressed look she gave him in return. "Well, that's better than a few days ago when you couldn't do that for more than a minute…"

"Sally, please, I feel much better than last week—I really don't need to be kept under lock and key anymore, afraid I'll stub my toe and bleed to death."

"That's not funny when you very nearly DID bleed to death."

"But I didn't and the only way I'll get any better than I am already is if you stop confining me to bed. I promise no heavy lifting or weapons practice or anything else you'd consider a danger to my precarious health."

Sally frowned at him and smacked him upside the head, making Quatre wince a bit but keep his smile bright. "Ungrateful brat."

"You know that's not true…I'm very grateful for everything you've done, even when it would have made complete sense for you to have pushed me off the ship for what I did."

"Hush up, you. It wasn't your fault, even if you think it was. We've all given you forgiveness you didn't need now let it rest, you'll make yourself sick and then I'll just have to keep you abed longer."

Quatre groaned and flopped back, resting his arm back against his side, glaring at Sally's smug grin. "You're a cruel woman, Sally."

"Healer's prerogative. Now up you go." Quatre rolled his eyes and stood up, letting Sally poke and prod to her heart's content, knowing she had missed doing this during her captivity. She was a Healer…it must have been terrible being separated from her husband in addition to not being able to help those suffering around her; he knew she was right about needing to let the guilt go, but every time he tried, something else that happened due to his actions crept up and stared him in the face. He also knew, as much as Sally or Cathy would say otherwise, than not everyone from Tria who had been swept away to the Troll Isle forgave him for sending them there; he could feel it in the false smiles and hard stares he felt from some of the servants or workers. He knew that Trowa had forbade them from saying anything to Quatre, and he knew that all the freed slaves who viewed him as his savior wouldn't hear a word against him and made it clear that he deserved praise for what he'd done for them, but he could still feel it.

He sighed and pushed the thoughts aside; it wasn't anything he could change and he honestly thought that they were completely justified in hating him…he had made their lives hell for the past four months. And, if Quatre was honest with himself, the dark side of his soul that still blamed himself for everything that had happened was somewhat appeased by their anger and disapproval of the heroic status he'd achieved; it hurt but it felt deserved…as if he needed to be faced with something apart from understanding and forgiveness before he could actually begin to forgive himself. Not that he'd tell anyone these thoughts…his friends and Trowa loved him too much to understand why this anger and hatred towards him helped his psyche.

"I've told you before, Quatre, you've got too pretty a face to keep frowning like that all the time." Sally brushed some of Quatre's blond hair out of his face and stared reprovingly at him. "I think Duo's right about the guilt complex of yours."

Quatre shrugged and gave a small smile but didn't respond more than that; it was what it was, no sense in trying to change when there was so much else to worry about at the moment. Sally frowned at him as she directed him to sit back down, chewing on the end of the quill as she looked over some kind of chart that no doubt marked his progress; he smiled politely and gave her a knowing look which she returned with a huff as she stood up straight.

"I'd prefer it if you kept it easy for a little while longer, what with your brush with death and all, but I can tell you're not going to pay attention to my advice anyway once you see that I'm signing you off with a clean bill of health."

Quatre smiled wider and gave her a quick hug before darting out of the room, laughing lightly as she shouted for him to not run or else she'd park his bum (censoring her more colorful language of course) back in bed and keep him there until they reached Aires. He wasn't about to press his luck so he did as she shouted for him to and walked, briskly, through the airships corridors and up onto the deck. He smiled or nodded at the former slaves who expressed their happiness at seeing him out and about without using another body for support (or being carted about like a helpless babe as Quatre viewed it), but he didn't stop for pleasantries. He had a mission and he had to see it through…or else it was likely he'd go mad from the warmth thrumming through his veins.

He stepped out on to the upper part of the deck, the part that had the captain's quarters and the pilot box and made his way down the railing of stairs and to the more open part of the airship near the front (he had no idea what all the nautical terms were and preferred to just avoid using them so not to look foolish). It was where Trowa would be, likely enjoying the sunlight and daytime as a man again opposed to as the Bear—Quatre couldn't imagine how much just being able to sit as he was during the day meant to the once-cursed prince, but he thought it meant the world. It felt good knowing that he had helped in bring about that feeling in Trowa…helped deal with the guilt he felt about activating the curses in the first place. The air ship was large, and two weeks of almost no activity left him slightly winded, but eventually he reached his destination, a bright smile gracing his face at what he found.

Trowa was beautiful, Quatre thought, watching his newly established husband with unabashed admiration from his spot, his smile growing brighter but softening as he watched the tall prince go through a series of fighting stances against Heero. Quatre had always thought so, even when he couldn't see Trowa's face and then when that shadow-band had covered his eyes, but to actually _see_ him without any disguises or spells…it was something entirely different. Quatre couldn't imagine he'd ever get sick of just watching him, and so far he hadn't in the weeks he'd been cooped up on the airship, sometimes with only Trowa with him for comfort; if it was possible, Quatre was finding himself more and more attracted to the prince. And falling more in love with him, which really hadn't seemed possible, but there it was.

Duo spotted him first, as Quatre expected—no one was able to sneak up on the Elven bard when his senses were much more acute than theirs, but he merely grinned at him and pointedly motioned with his eyes at Trowa. Then the braided Elf's grin changed into a rather suggestive one which caused Quatre to flush slightly before he leveled a glare at Duo; the Elf only cackled at the glare, which earned him a disgusted look from Wufei, who had been seated nearby him but not privy to their exchange. All four of them were on the open deck, as were Cathy and Hilde, both seated further down with a gaggle of freed children who had been enslaved by Dorothy and her Trolls around them, braiding the girls' hair while the boys watched the two men fight.

Quatre walked down the stairs to the main level of the deck, giving a startled Wufei, who had finally looked up from whatever map of the Fey he had his head stuck in today, a small grin before motioning him to stay quiet. Wufei looked skeptically at Quatre before glancing over at Trowa, silently asking if Quatre really felt well enough for what he obviously came down here for. Quatre felt a hot flush warm his cheeks but he just nodded determinedly and gave a thumbs up to the stern man. Rolling his eyes and muttering in his native tongue, Wufei motioned him forward, obviously not really believing the blond but not really thinking it was any of his business what Quatre decided to do if Sally gave him the ok. Quatre nodded in thanks and glared at the kissy faces Duo was making (Wufei glared as well with unabashed dislike but didn't move from his spot, stubborn as he was) before he stepped out and rested against the railings.

A few other people seemed to notice him standing there, and some started to whisper excitedly, but Quatre kept his attention on Trowa's form, watching how the prince moved so fluidly against Heero, how focused and in control he looked. It made it all the better when those verdant eyes finally spotted him and the control, the focus, and the grace flew away, leaving the prince shocked and standing still, his buffered blade dropping to the ground as he met Quatre's smile. It always gave Quatre a thrill to know that no matter how stoic and composed Trowa was, all it took was the right look or smile from him to make the prince crumble apart at the seams. Trowa stared at him for a few moments, as if he wasn't sure if what he was seeing was real or not, but he blinked and dropped his sword on the ground, striding toward him with a determined glint in his eyes. Quatre caught a glint of an annoyed looking Heero who was left to gather up the discarded blade before Trowa swept him close and kissed him soundly.

Normally, Quatre would have felt a little embarrassed at kissing so openly, but he found this one time, he couldn't care less, and wrapped his arms around Trowa as he kissed the prince back. There were some hoots and hollers when they broke apart, but he only had eyes for Trowa, sparing a quick, mischievous smile before linking their hands together and dragging the taller prince away. He would probably be teased something fierce later on, but he had more pressing concerns for the moment and decided that him and Trowa making up for nearly six months of wasted time was much more important than a little teasing in the future.

* * *

Duo smirked as Quatre pulled Trowa into the air ship and out of sight, ambling over to where Heero stood glaring and pouting, though Heero would call it brooding which was really the same thing as pouting. He bumped the grumpy prince's hip with his own and flashed a big grin at the frown he received, resting his elbow on a strong shoulder. "Now, now, no frowning there, your highness. Let the poor guy have his fun. He's been cooped up and mother-henned to death for the past few weeks, and he's a newlywed, he deserves a bit of fun."

"It's not Quatre that concerns me."

"Who said anything about Cat? _I_ was talking about Trowa I'll have you know…I'd be more concerned about him than our little hero of the hour. Did you see that look? Cat sure looked like he means business; I wouldn't fancy trying to tell him 'no' right now." Duo smiled brightly as Heero's frown morphed into a glare, knowing the difference between the annoyed glares and the angry glares after so long. "You are allowed to relax, we won the day, defeated the bad Trolls and all that!"

"You know as well as I that us 'winning' on that isle was just the stepping stone to a much larger problem. It'd be prudent to remember that and not let ourselves get distracted when we should be focusing on how to stop Treize and Epyon."

"You're such a grouch. All that hoopla will _still_ be there tomorrow, no point in stressing out over it now when we're still a few days off from Aires and carrying a ship full of traumatized folk. They're probably happy to see our two lovebirds healed and together after so long. You know their whole story has already spread all over the ship, it's nice to see they got a happy ending, even if it's an intermission to the play."

Heero's frown softened a bit and he wrapped fingers around the end of Duo's braid; the Elf smiled wider at the action, happy that Heero finally, finally after years and years of waiting, came to his senses and stopped being such a stick-in-the-mud about Duo giving up his long life. He'd meant what he told the stoic prince; living for thousands of years was pointless if he was living all by himself, not to mention lonely as hell. Sure, he'd have a shorter life in the long run but it'd be a more worthwhile one—Humans, always thinking too much with those dumb heads of theirs.

"And just who told them the story, I wonder." It wasn't a question but Duo shrugged innocently as if it was.

"Hey, I am but a humble bard, spreading cheer where I can amongst those who have little to smile on of late. If people want to hear about my most amazing travels, who am I to deny them?" He laughed as Heero gave a small, tiny little upturn of his lips, placing a noisy, obnoxious kiss on his cheek before he sauntered over to where Sally had joined up with Cathy and Hilde. "I told you, there is no way in Hellfire I'm letting any other bard try to steal Cat's story away. No one else would be able to do it justice."

Heero wrapped a hand around his braid and yanked him back to his side, giving Duo a smirk as he did so, and headed over towards the women side-by-side. Duo didn't complain, even if Heero was starting to get a bit funny about pulling his hair; he was happy with where things stood between them now, with what Heero gave him that he kept hidden from anyone else, with their understanding on what they wanted and what they needed. They were going to need a little bit of time to kind of work everything out between them, all the hurts and lies that still hung as a silent presence over their heads, but Duo was happy they were at least going to get the chance. It felt odd to be so happy and content when the times were likely darker than there'd been in centuries.

Duo was worried about Treize as much as Heero was, as much as Wufei was, as much as Zechs was. He was even more so worried about the fact that Epyon was working with him and manipulating him towards the destruction of the Fey, that the Ladies had basically told them it was their jobs as Colony princes to stop him; that Zero was relying on Quatre to do something after everything else he'd gone through the past few months. He'd just turned eighteen for the Ladies' sake, he should be enjoying his victory over Dorothy and regaining Trowa, not thinking about why Zero chose to single him out and what he needed to do and how it involved her. He was worried about the whole thing, especially after Quatre tried to martyr himself in order to Dorothy and free Trowa…what would he be willing to do with the whole Fey at risk?

Duo shook his head of the black thoughts, determined to follow his own advice and not get worked up over things that hadn't happened yet. Peace was rare and fleeting, you had to enjoy it when you got it. He grinned and bowed regally at the ladies, taking Sally's hand and giving it a flamboyant kiss. "How can we ever thank you, oh mighty Healer? Thanks to your painstaking work, our dear newlyweds can finally have their wedding night, er, wedding day! Your beauty and skill surpass even the greatest of Elven Healers!"

"Oh shut it, Duo. You've annoyed my husband quite enough already." Sally smiled at him and took a seat next to Cathy, both women looking much healthier and like themselves after two weeks of steady food and sunlight. Duo felt terrible about how Sally and Wufei had been kept separated for nearly their entire captivity; he could only imagine how guilty Quatre felt, knowing the blond had the propensity to accept more than his fair share of blame if given his way. No one who truly understood what had happened and why really blamed Quatre though…he wondered how long everyone was going to have to tell him he was forgiven before he started to believe it.

"I see my brother is wasting no time," Cathy commented off handedly. She had an amused look in her eyes as she glanced down where the pair had scampered off. "Nor is my brother-in-law. I _still _feel that they could have at least waited until we at least landed in Aires to Bond."

"Oh, let it go. You'll get your big affair once everything's settled. Who knows, maybe the Ladies themselves will even show up to give Quatre away! Light above knows they certainly worry over him as family would."

"But, doesn't he have a family in the Mortal realm? He told me he had a big one, I'm sure even though his poor father is gone that any one of his sisters would like to have that honor." Hilde smiled up fleetingly as she continued to braid a little girl's hair, her eyes still somewhat haunted by what they had gone though on the isle. Duo felt sorry for her too, she was just a little thing, life was probably harder on her there than on others.

"Well of course they'll be invited and offered the opportunity to walk with him. In fact, I should see about getting started on that right when we get back, Ladies know that some of them may be married off by now and scattered after our gold stopped being sent to them." Cathy gave Hilde an understanding look before she started chatting with the girl about decorations and who to invite. Sally took over entertaining the children now that the women were distracted and the fight had stopped, telling them stories and producing little puffs of magic or powder with her wares every now and then for effect. Wufei has migrated beside his wife, sitting close beside her while he went over whatever silly maps he stole off of Heero's packs—it was a quiet and beautiful scene and no one looking at it would think that they were all heading for another battle, another war.

Well, might as well make the most of the tranquility and the peace while it lasted.

"You know, Heero, I'm pretty sure that you need to get those swords back in their sheaths before Zechs throws a fit over leaving them lying around. Wouldn't want innocent children to start playing with them, now do you?" Duo had turned his head and murmured the words low into the prince's ear, a devilish smile working across his face as he saw the man's eyes furrow at him in question. Heero took one look at his smile, however before he gave a small grunt of humor and tossed a quick smirk his way before handing one of the blades to Duo.

"You sure you want to help? Sword-handling is dangerous business for a bard." Nope, Heero wasn't a lost cause at all; he certainly knew how to play the game, even if he pretended otherwise.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I'm up for the task," he replied. He gave Heero one of his patented dirty grins before he sauntered off from the deck and back inside, bumping Heero in the hip playfully when he caught up with him. Heero gave him a smile, a true blue smile as they walked inside, and Duo felt a thrill that no one else was privy to that smile but him at that moment. He leaned over and kissed the smile as they walked into one of the ship's halls, taking comfort and heart in the pleased surprise he could taste there, if not see on Heero's face. Things were probably going to go balls up soon enough, he might as well follow Cat's lead and make the most of their peaceful time while it lasted.

* * *

Quatre pulled Trowa into the tall prince's room, which Quatre had wormed out of S a few nights past, and was pleased to see his belongings were already there; he really only gave them a moment's pause though because he had much more pressing matters to attend to. Like pinning Trowa to the door frame and kissing the light out of him so he forgot everything but the two of them at that moment. Trowa shouldn't be worrying about him or about what the future had in store or them once they landed in Aires; there's d be time to think on that later. No, what Trowa needed was to be reminded that Quatre was still here, that he was healed, that he wasn't dead and that he was free. Quatre knew Trowa, he knew that nearly watching him die had been a terrible thing to go through and while he couldn't change that, he could give Trowa proof that they were both still here.

Trowa gave a muffled groan from against the door, surprise mingled with thrill sinking into Quatre from his empathy and their bond, arms reaching up to rake through Quatre's hair. He inhaled sharply and gripped Quatre's hair tightly when the blond pressed a knee in between his long legs, slipping his hands under Trowa's tunic to touch the heated skin beneath. It felt so _real_, so solid and concrete that Quatre felt his hands shake and his knees nearly buckled; it was so different from the dreamscape encounters, so much better and more alive. There was no fear or sadness or guilt between them now as there had been, just warmth and love and a heat that was enough to drive them both mad. He released a gasp into their kiss, reveling in feeling Trowa's actual fingertips and nails grazing his scalp and hair, his hands inching up Trowa's back and pulling up his tunic along with it. Quatre released him for a moment to yank the offending shirt off before he swooped back in, kissing Trowa with even more fervor than before.

Trowa's hand swept down his neck and shoulders, his nails scraping against whatever skin he found before they crept in between their bodies and started unbuttoning Quatre's shirt; Quatre hummed appreciatively as he drifted his lips down the taller man's neck. It was almost like they had never done this before, as if they were just now discovering each other—in a way, Quatre supposed they were. Before, the love had been real, but neither had been truly who they were with the other, Trowa because of the curses and Quatre because he hadn't discovered it yet. The love was still there, but it was stronger because they were stronger, more complete and able to give all of who they were to the other without any fear or reservation. It made Quatre heady and press closer to Trowa, open up his empathy as much as he could to feel every single nuance he could.

Quatre tried to shrug out of his shirt without moving from his position against Trowa's neck but only succeeded in wriggling a lot and getting his hands stuck in the sleeves. Trowa took advantage and angled his face back up, kissing him again and again, pushing off and away from the door. His hands cradled Quatre's face as if he was afraid the blond would drift away if he didn't hold him there; Quatre inhaled sharply and let out a little yelp as the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed and toppled backwards, arms still stuck awkwardly in his shirt. Trowa chuckled a bit, a laugh that sounded very similar to a noise the Bear would make when amused, and helped free Quatre of the shirt before he leaned over, resting his hands on either side of the blond.

"If this is the reception I get after time apart, it may be in my benefit to arrange separate vacations for us."

"You do so and I can promise that you'll regret it." Quatre glared as he reached up and locked his hands at the back of the taller man's neck.

Trowa chuckled again before he peppered kisses up and down Quatre's neck. "Promises, promises, love."

Quatre stared as Trowa's face lifted off from his chest and stared at him, a small, soft smile gracing his handsome face and he tried to imprint the sight on his memory. This was the first time Trowa was looking at him during their time in bed without a mask, without a shadow band, with the sun shining in through the closed shades, greens eyes nearly burning as he gazed—Quatre had never seen anything quite so captivating, even with all his recent travels. He reached up and traced Trowa's face with his fingertips, a smile breaking wide across his face as Trowa simply let him, turning his head slightly to place a kiss on a finger or palm every now and then. He felt so happy, so warm, so _loved_, that he could burst; there was darkness ahead, he knew that, and no one knew what it might bring, but in this moment, there was only Trowa and him, only the freedom of finally being able to be together without any barriers. No matter what the future brought, he could keep this moment with him always.

He tugged Trowa's lips back down and pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss against them, sighing out his nose when he felt Trowa unlace his pants, neither rushing or in a hurry anymore. The rest of their clothes were lost in a slow rush of sounds and touch, bare skins gripping, sliding and rocking against each other; Quatre gasped out as he felt Trowa touch deep inside and sent shocks through his frame, his own pleasure doubled as he felt all of Trowa's alongside his own. They were moving in near perfect harmony, Trowa gripping his hips tight enough to leave bruises behind and Quatre surged to meet his thrusts, wordless noises escaping and echoing in the quiet surrounding them.

Time seemed to stop and before Quatre even knew it, colors burst behind his eyes and he was blinking open his eyes to see Trowa staring down at him as he reached his peak; Quatre soaked everything in, even though it made him dizzy and nearly lose sight of where he ended and Trowa began. Their heavy, slowing breaths filled the space between them as Trowa settled back down beside Quatre, tucking the blond's head under his chin, wrapping him in a hold that was nearly painful. His face was buried in Quatre's hair, and even though he was still, even though Quatre felt no moisture on his scalp, he knew what Trowa was feeling so let him hold him tightly, sneaking a hand up to stroke the taller man's chest. He was tired already, which shouldn't have surprised him considering he was probably still not fully up to scratch and would need to build up his strength again after being confined to a bed for so long. Trowa's hands stroked up and down his bare back and he hummed softly, a song that Quatre recognized as an Araaban lullaby he'd taught the prince months ago in Tria, and he smiled softly.

No words were exchanged between them, none were needed. There'd be plenty of time for words the next day, plenty of time to sit and talk about why Quatre had allowed himself to nearly die, why Trowa felt unsteady without the Bear within anymore, what awaited them once they reached Aires. But for now, Quatre let his eyes close and the vibrations of Trowa's humming lull him to sleep, finally back in the arms he'd dreamed of for so long. Finally back home after so long. He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to Trowa's heart before sleep took him. Everything would end up all right, in the end, he just knew it.

* * *

*bows deeply* I am profusely sorry for the abysmally long wait! I have no excuse other than not having the muses occupied with our dear boys here. But never fear, I am finishing this damn thing if it KILLS me. I swear on the Ladies! We've got about 4 chapters left I think...5 if we inculde the epilogue I'm waffling about using. The end is in sight!

Please review even though I'm awful. I am always sincerely grateful for every single one receive!

3 Osco


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Gundam Wing/AC, Fantasy, Romance