Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ A World in a Grain of Sand ❯ Confronting ( Chapter 15 )

Author: Keiran

Title: A World in a Grain of Sand 15/?

Pairings: 1+2 main, minor 3xD, 4x5, past Solox11, 13x11.

Rating: R, which it doesn't deserve probably. But just to be safe, it will stay.

Genre: Romance, mild angst, historical sort of fantasy.

Warnings: Shounen-ai, past slavery. Mild Quatre bashing.

Archive: my site: the URL is on my profile page. If you want it, drop me a line.

Many thanks to Sundaire, for betaing this fic. ^__^ The author is very grateful.

***

'Now I finally know what it feels like to be a mouse,' the unbeatable great general of Sanq thought, soundlessly slipping through the corridors. Recently, he found himself in an interesting predicament. The princess of said country invited the nobles of Albion and their entourage to stay at what was technically her father's castle, thus making sure that they met Sanq aristocracy daily. Considering that a certain Albion Duchess had nothing but homicide on her mind every time she spotted Heero, the man wisely chose to stay out of the woman's sight most of the time. And, to make matters more interesting, it was just his luck that in her wisdom the Princess decided that it wouldn't be fitting to keep a family apart, especially since they saw each other seldom enough as it was.

All in all, Duo was living at the palace, just a few doors down from Heero's room, and the general saw him only in passing during meal time. Every other time Lady Une was inching closer and closer to the weapons decorating the walls.

As if the furious Lady wasn't enough, very soon it became obvious that not everyone was at peace with the arrangement. Quatre and Duo were avoiding each other almost as much as Heero tried to avoid the Lady of Albion. Wufei, surprisingly, chose to follow Trowa's example and offered his apologies to the braided healer; his lover vehemently refused to.

Heero shook his head, exasperated. Who would have thought that the ever-diplomatic Quatre Winner could fight as heatedly against something as simple as an apology? Then again, as Trowa pointed out, the blond hated being proved wrong. He was truly devoted to his friends and Duo's independence hurt one of them, in a roundabout way. This wasn't something he could or would forgive easily.

"Heero?" The general jumped and turned in midair. He came face to face with sparkling violet orbs in a laughing face. "Why so nervous?"

"I thought it was your sister," the man grumbled in response. Duo chuckled lightly.

"I didn't think a mere woman could make you so nervous. She's in her room, you have nothing to fear," he answered. "For now." Heero was about to respond when cheerful childish voices filled the corridor.

"Uncle!" Both men turned their heads. Sure enough, it was Mariemaia and Otto, beaming at the healer expectantly. "We're ready now!"

"Let us go then. Good-bye general." He waved and left, accompanied by two bouncing children. Heero's eyes followed the slender figure of the healer, for once dressed in something else than his ever present white robe. Apparently he owned some other clothes - he was wearing dark brown breaches, a white shirt and a dark blue tunic, tied at the throat. He also carried a long thin package, wrapped in some cloth. Heero squinted, trying to make out its exact shape. It looked like… But before he could identify the mysterious pack, Duo's head snapped to the side, glancing at him briefly. Their eyes met and Heero finally saw what he wanted to see for so long - the sparkle of true joy in the violet depths.

Never mind that it originated from one of the children's questions. Duo still looked at him.

Suddenly the general became aware of an incessant tapping on the wall by his head. He turned his head slightly and froze. Lady Une raised a brow.

"So general. We are alone at last…," she smirked. The man suddenly realized just why women should never smirk. It made everything else, the flames of Hell included, looked safe and unthreatening.

"Milady?" he tried tentatively. 'Where are chaperones when you need them?' he thought desperately.

"I understand that you chose to continue harassing Lord Maxwell?" the woman asked calmly, opening the doors to a nearby sitting room. The superiority and the almost-outright insult made his hackles rise as he walked in through the door. The lady looked at him carefully, sitting on a recliner. She arranged her skirts neatly around herself.

"With all due respect, milady, I am not harassing anyone, Lord Maxwell in particular," he said resolutely.

"Indeed," Une stared at him, the evil smirk giving way to fury. "I have no desire to speak to you longer than I must, general, so listen and listen well. I want you too leave Duo alone. He does not need to have you haunting his every step while he tries to overcome his past ordeals. You will do that, or I will make you pay."

"I am sorry, milady, but I will not," he answered firmly. "I cannot." The woman nearly jumped from her place, but since jumping is unbecoming of a lady, she held herself.

"General, I am a resourceful woman. I am able to make you lose your reputation and your good name." Heero looked into her eyes, coldly. They stared at each other for a moment.

"Tell me, milady, are you trying to comfort Duo or your own conscience, after you failed to protect him as I have no doubt his brother asked you to?" he hissed quietly. The lady stood up angrily. Heero heard rather than felt the mighty slap on his cheek. The woman's face was reddened with anger.

"How dare you!"

"It seems to me that you have never actually asked him what he thinks, did you. Allow him to make his own decisions, milady, he is old enough!"

"What do you know about it!? He is still a child, he needs to be protected!" She sat down on the couch, spent.

"Perhaps," Heero agreed. "But it might be not in the way you are thinking of." He stood up slowly. "Give me a chance, milady. If I wanted to do him any harm, I would have already done so. I certainly wouldn't have stayed here for as long as I have."

"Just why should I trust you?" she exclaimed forcefully. The man paused. That was a good question. But he didn't have to think long before he figured out an answer.

"He trusts me," he said simply. It was that simple. The lady fell silent letting out a whoosh of air.

"I didn't want that," she stated. "You do not deserve his trust."

"Perhaps," Heero agreed once again, almost against himself. He stared into space for a few moments, while Une glared at him furiously. "Milady, how did you learn?" The woman's brows furrowed. "I do not believe Duo told you," Heero finished.

"It doesn't take a genius to figure out when your beautiful brother-in-law disappears for a year or so and a great general in some other country receives a slave whose looks are enough to make stories circulate that far," she said bitterly. "Duo doesn't lie, so when he refuses to talk about something, the answer usually means that yes, indeed something bad has happened to him," she got up gracefully and walked to the door. "His nightmares were an immense clue as well," she added, walking out.

Heero sat in the chamber alone, barely breathing, for a longer time.

***

"…so mummy said I could have my own pony when we return!" Otto beamed at his uncle, obviously expecting his joy to be shared.

"That's great!" the uncle obediently grinned. "Horse-riding is so much fun."

"I'm going to have a pony too!" the little redhead piped in suddenly. "Daddy said I could have a white pony!"

"White ponies are for weaklings!" Otto said, snorting. Duo was suddenly assaulted with an image of a seven-years-old Wufei and one of his potential rants. "My pony is going to be dark brown!" The little girl's brows furrowed.

"I think white ponies are pretty," she said firmly, turning around. Duo tried to hold in his laughter.

"Otto, being strong isn't about having a dark horse," he said firmly. "Your father had a white stallion as far as I remember."

"Really?" The boy looked at him in wonder.

"Hey, don't look at me like that, you should remember it yourself! Snowflake I think was its name." He watched as the boy's face scrunched up in thought.

"I think I do remember…" he announced finally, slightly confused. "But daddy was a knight!"

"Yes, he was," Duo answered wistfully. Then he remembered that he had kids to care for, so he brightened immediately. "Of course Snowflake was a present from the Queen, so that might have been the main factor deciding the color. And the name."

"Snowflake doesn't sound like a battle cry," Mariemaia said. She looked in the faces of her companions and noticed their expressions of amused confusion. "I read somewhere that a horse should have a name that can be used as a battle cry - it said it brings good luck," she clarified.

"I didn't know that…," Duo replied. The man and the two children stood in the middle of the gardens, designed to look like a clearing in a wood. Duo looked around. Spotting a bench, he walked over and carefully set the package he was carrying down. He slowly unwound the material and brought up a sword in a beautifully encrusted sheath. He smiled at the metal almost tenderly, caressing the handle. Both children's eyes grew big when as they watched the weapon.

"It's so pretty…," the little girl said in awe. "Is that a bird?" Duo grinned in response.

"It's called a phoenix. I'm sure you've heard stories about them, haven't you?" When he received nods he continued, "I've been told my mother asked for it to be made a little before I was born. Supposedly she had a feeling I'd be a boy."

"But you were supposed to be a healer, even when you were a baby, weren't you, uncle?" Otto asked in confusion. "I thought healers didn't fight?"

"That's because we do not usually have to fight. We are compelled to heal everyone that comes to us for help, so that basically means that any attempt to attack us would be a serious blow against one's own forces, wouldn't it?" he explained patiently. "Nevertheless, we are taught to use a weapon just in case. There are some stupid people all around the world," he finished with a small laugh. "And of course a sword is a traditional gift for a young lord," he added, smiling.

"But it's so pretty! Do you really fight with it? Like, in a battle?" Mariemaia asked, clasping her palms together, looking at the steel with wonder.

"Well, it is a real sword, just a little more decorated than most. I suppose it wouldn't be used in an actual battle, it's more for official duels and for show than anything," the healer said thoughtfully, caressing the silver feathers encrusted in the handle. They ensured that the blade fit perfectly in his palm. "But is the only one that I have," he paused briefly. "Now, are you ready, Otto?" he asked over his shoulder unsheathing the sword. The child nodded excitedly, withdrawing his own sword from its sheath and putting the cover right next to his uncle's. Mariemaia settled herself on the bench, her small feet dangling from the seat.

Duo breathed in deeply. "Let's hope I still remember how to fence," he remarked, smiling slightly. Otto blinked, surprised. He seemed so crestfallen that Duo hastened to explain immediately: "Oh, I remember the moves all right; I am practicing often. It's just been long since I actually fought a real person," he paused. "Six or more years, actually…"

"Why not?" Mariemaia piped in curiously.

"There was no one I could fight," the healer answered simply. "I take it you've been taught the proper stance so far?" he asked turning to his nephew. The boy nodded excitedly. "Good. Fencing is actually quite simple: all the fancy moves come down to four basic steps: thrust, slash, block and par. Defense and offense." He demonstrated the movements gracefully.

"You look like you're dancing!" Mariemaia clapped her hands. Duo smiled at her.

"Well, it is a lot like dancing, until you get into a fight in which your life is at stake - then it's much less elegant." He straightened from his half-crouch and faced Otto. "First, you practice the movements. Don't think about getting them perfectly right - at this stage it is most important to learn how to keep balance. Try to move quickly," Duo instructed, sitting next to the little redhead, resting his own sword on his knees. He watched the little boy strive for some time, during which Duo only said things like 'keep your elbows higher,' 'mind the feet' or 'don't look down.'

"That's enough," he said finally, standing up. He hefted his weapon carefully, reacquainting himself with the weight, before facing the boy. "We will start with defense - that roughly means that I'll stab you and you have to block my attacks." Otto nodded solemnly, taking a deep breath. He brought the sword in front of his face and concentrated. Duo nearly smiled - the scrunched face of a child was just too adorable. But he caught himself in time - he remembered Solo was oversensitive when it came to his pride and Otto seemed to share that sentiment, partially at least. With that in mind, Duo swung his blade carefully, preparing the child for the harsher blows that would follow.

They continued their play for some time; Duo thrusting, Otto paring the blows, when Mariemaia suddenly rose from the bench and curtsied politely.

"Good day to you, Lord Winner," Duo heard her say. He immediately stopped, his eyes scanning the clearing quickly. Indeed, Quatre Raberba Winner. And no one else.

This could not be good.

"So…" the blond started. "Fighting the children, I see?" Duo bristled inwardly. He did not like the tone. He did not like it at all. His mind was coming up with all sorts of snappy comebacks, when suddenly his eyes strayed to the thin sword the diplomat was carrying.

"It is not easy to find an opponent that would offer me a challenge," he answered, still staring at the weapon suggestively. The children were looking between the two of them somewhat surprised. The healer noted with some pleasure that the clear blue eyes of the man narrowed into slits.

"Then perhaps I might give you a chance to show your worth now?" Quatre asked, shedding his cloak and dropping it to the bench, along with the sheath of his sword. He walked confidently into the clearing and faced the healer.

Wordlessly they crossed their swords, preparing for battle.

***TBC***