Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ A World in a Grain of Sand ❯ Reconciliation ( Chapter 16 )

Author: Keiran

Title: A World in a Grain of Sand 16/?

Pairings: 1+2, starts to be a liiiiitle 2+1 too. Implied past 1x2; implied 4x5, 3xD, very past 4+3 not necessarily romantic.

Rating: R overall, for no reason really.

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

Warnings: Shounen-ai, tiny bit of angst.

Archive: Gundam Wing Diaries, Cali0cat's Archive, my homepage. If you want it, drop me a line. ^_^
Notes: I guess we won't be seeing Quatre much anymore, now that he's out of the way.

Thank you Sundaire! - Sundaire devotes her time to check and correct my mistakes. Keiran heh-p-eeeh…

***

Otto and Mariemaia watched, fascinated, as the two men exchanged blows. They started off fairly moderate, but the movements quickly gained speed and force as they learned what their opponent was capable of. They hadn't been fighting for long, but it was rather easy to see that they were evenly matched - Quatre, while he accompanied his lover, the general, to war, was rarely forced to fight himself. The battle, therefore, was more of a dancing performance rather than a real duel. Of course, the weapons were a far cry from decorative wooden swords, which meant the fight could result in bloodshed. The children did not realize that - all they knew was that it seemed exotically beautiful. The men knew exactly what they were doing, having obviously been thoroughly educated as far as fencing was concerned, creating an almost ethereal vision of a perfect duel, the kind that only took place in fairy tales.

"What is going on here?"

The little ones jumped a bit. Mariemaia looked up and curtsied quickly. She elbowed the oblivious Otto sharply, making the boy glare - yet he caught himself quickly and bowed as well.

"Good day to you, Lord Chang," they chorused.

"Same to you. Now, what is going on here?" Wufei asked, kneeling to match the children's level.

"Lord Winner and my uncle are dueling," Otto explained proudly. The Chinese man smirked instead of rolling his eyes, but sighed immediately afterward. He understood that the two needed to work some of their frustrations off; he only hoped that since they were fighting in front of kids his mate and Heero's healer wouldn't kill each other.

Judging from their determined expressions, however, it was just as likely that someone's gut would end up splattered all over the clearing. So far there had only been one small cut, when Quatre's sword slid down Duo's blade, breaking the healer's skin when it was jerked back sharply, leaving behind a shallow, barely bleeding laceration.

No longer than five minutes after Wufei's arrival Treize appeared, with Heero, who had finally collected himself after his conversation with Une, in tow. They stopped at the edge of the clearing, watching with a certain sense of disbelief at the scene being played there. Heero, because he had a really hard time thinking of 'Duo' and 'swordfight' in the same sentence, and Treize, since he had never seen such a murderous expression on the young man's face.

"They are good," Treize finally commented. "And evenly matched." Heero nodded absentmindedly. His eyes were firmly trained on his healer's arm and the small amount of blood staining his shirt. The three men stared at the fight for about fifteen minutes when it became apparent that Quatre would most likely lose. When it came to battling he was just as experienced as the healer, but when it came to physical condition he was about a hair's width behind - as Heero had earlier observed, sleeping in silk sheets day after day caused even the toughest of warriors to soften. Nevertheless, he thrust with an almost unmatched fury, and a few times the tip of his weapon came very close to slashing through the healer's skin, between his chin and shoulders more often than not.

Duo, while he most likely didn't realize that, knew an opening when he saw one - the blond was slowly but surely running out of breath. The healer smirked slightly, diving under one of his opponent's swipes. He remained crouching for the briefest of moments and kicked out almost immediately after. Quatre lost his footing and fell to the ground hard. The fall knocked the breath out of him, but he didn't drop his sword. Duo stepped back, trying to get his own breathing under control while the other man got back to his feet.

Quatre rose with murder written plainly across his face. All the annoyance bottled up after weeks of watching Heero mope and then disappear suddenly came crashing down on him as pure rage. Heero has been hurt by the man currently facing him. Heero had suffered.

And the man didn't even offer to comfort him!

Of course, allowing pure rage to take over one's actions rarely ends up good. Quatre attacked furiously, but in is thirst for the healer's blood he didn't pay much attention to anything, including the healer's movements.

Approximately seven seconds later he found himself flat on the ground with the tip of Duo's blade touching his neck. He stared in utter disbelief. Had he just lost a swordfight to a healer? He watched in stunned silence at the emotions playing across the other man's face, until finally Duo withdrew his sword and wordlessly offered the fallen man his hand. Still in shock, Quatre grasped it and allowed himself to be pulled up. They stood watching each other for a few more seconds, when unexpectedly for those watching they bowed to each other slightly (albeit warily) and stepped back. Duo returned to the bench, sheathed his sword and moved to leave the clearing, but Heero suddenly appeared in his way.

"Shouldn't you get this treated?" he asked, indicating the scratch, worry colouring his voice. Worry and a noticeable amount of shock. Was that smugness he had just seen flickering across the delicate features? As if to confirm his observation, Duo smirked slightly.

"It's just a cut, Heero. I distinctly remember you arguing that you were fine sporting a wound that went almost down to the bone," he replied. The general's brow furrowed.

"I distinctly remember having half of my back cut out afterwards," he shot back. The healer looked him in the eye and the smirk transformed into a smile, a true happy smile. Duo extended his hand and delicately brushed Heero's bangs from his forehead.

I promise I'll wrap it as soon as possible," he said and left the clearing, waving good-bye to his family. Treize stared after him, mildly amused. He had guessed that there was something between the healer and the general. Something strained and elusive, but something nonetheless.

Quatre, meanwhile, was staring at Heero. He saw his features soften when the healer's palm brushed his face and the undeniable tranquillity in his eyes, something he had never seen before. Tranquillity and peace didn't come easily to soldiers, even harder to leaders like Heero, who sent their armies to death muttering the names of warriors as they went. Heero wasn't overly affectionate; he kept his distance from those closest to him, choosing instead to learn his soldiers' names, one by one. This was, Quatre mused, what made him such a brilliant military leader. The troops died for their king, but they fought for Heero.

Quatre himself was not much of a soldier. He understood the need to fight and defend, but the purpose of his existence was to prevent wars, not to fight them. What he did understand, however, was that everyone needed their peace once in a while, and since he didn't have much trouble with finding his own amity, he quickly took it upon himself to bring it to others. Not without some - slightly more selfish - reasons. He spent countless days trying to create a semblance of peace for Wufei before he realized that it was his company that brought the general reprieve. The realization brought him immense relief as well. Even earlier, he had tried to console the other general of Sanq, yet his attempts were met with firm disapproval from said general's future wife. Quatre recalled the incident, smirking, as he rubbed the scar just below his shoulder. He noticed then that Dorothy somehow managed to bring that tranquil look to his friend's green eyes, despite her seemingly forceful and egoistic way of living.

The same look that now, mirrored in deep blue pair of eyes, followed the disappearing figure of the long-haired healer. Lord Winner frowned.

***

Duo returned to his chamber, exhausted. He tore off his clothes and threw them on a nearby chair - he would deal with them later. Then he poured some water into a basin and splashed some on his face and chest. Absentmindedly he washed the gash and wrapped it with a random piece of cloth from his bag, all the while trying to get his breath to return to its normal pattern. He found a loose, clean shirt and put it on, disregarding the droplets of water that made it stick to his chest. Then he flipped down on the bed and closed his eyes tiredly. Sooner or later he'd have to get out and face everyone, but he was perfectly happy to stall it for as long as possible.

As usual, the world had different ideas. A vigorous knock was delivered upon the door, and before Duo could even think about answering, it opened and closed immediately after, with the key turning in the lock right away leaving him alone with none other than Quatre Raberba Winner.

"I assume you are feeling pretty satisfied right now, aren't you?" the blond asked, looking at the younger man almost forcefully. Duo sat on the bed surprised. He shot a quick glance to the window and then back to the noble. He forced himself to look the man straight in the eyes, and answer.

"Yes, quite." The blond didn't respond. He was obviously still tired as his chest was heaving slightly, but his stare has lost nothing of its iciness. Duo felt cold sweat trickling down his back. He tried not to flinch when he almost felt the man's gaze move from his face to his chest, visible through the slightly transparent shirt. He found himself panicking - a few more seconds and he would be hyperventilating.

…Heero used to look at him with this amount of intensity, but his look was warmer, full of tender desire. In Quatre's eyes there was nothing but ice.

"I can see why Heero desires you so." Quatre's voice broke into Duo's reverie. "But I knew that, otherwise I wouldn't have brought you to him."

Duo bristled, but somewhere deep inside his chest he felt a painful stab at the mention of the general's desire. He fought to squash it, yet the very thought he tried to avoid painted itself clearly across his mind. 'Heero stayed… because he wants me, and I refused him…'

"What I couldn't understand," the blond continued meanwhile, "is why he wants you so much." Duo stared, somewhat surprised. Quatre sat down on the bed, not too far from him, while Duo frantically moved backwards, trying not to look too obvious. He had an overwhelming desire to grab his sword and force it through the man's chest, but he knew he wouldn't be able to. How many times had that thought crossed his mind right before Heero moved forward and slid his hands under his clothes?

"I think I'm starting to." The man's words shook Duo from his stupor. He watched as Quatre clenched his teeth and averted his eyes. "I was wrong, when it came to you," he admitted quietly. "I thought you tried to make him unhappy." The healer was silent. He had a feeling that it was as close to an apology as the noble was going to give. Not that he blamed him, he knew that pride was an issue much too serious to be taken lightly. Men died for their pride. Well, men chose to suffer silently rather than face the humiliation of begging for their situation to be reconsidered, for that matter.

Quatre sat on the bed, unmoving for a while longer, then he stood up slowly and walked to the door. He paused before turning the key in the lock and looked back on the healer. Had the long-haired man just spoken?

"I am grateful you found me when you did, Lord Winner," Quatre heard over the deafening silence in the room. Duo didn't offer anything more, but the way he suddenly curled in on himself spoke volumes. Quatre, remembering the still-vivid picture of feverish youth surrounded by bulky, hairy sailors, offered him a hesitant smile. Truth to be told, he hadn't really thought of Heero when he bought the boy from those men. The great general came to mind quickly, but not first. Once he did however, the blond noble had woven an entire tapestry of ideas of how the child could bring happiness to his friend.

Just one crucial factor escaped his mind: people are not chess figures, which can be put into designed positions on a chessboard. But still…

"I was right, however, about one thing, Lord Maxwell," Quatre said, standing in the doorway. He waited until the violet eyes met his before continuing. "You do bring him peace. I can only hope he could bring the same for you."

***TBC***