Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Dimension Gate ❯ A Really Big Hole In The Wall ( Chapter 2 )

Author's Notes: I got reviews!!!!! Thank you, Zola Lita, for being the first person to review this fic ^_^. You get a big kiss. * mwuah * And MeLaiya, is this soon enough for you? Wow, talk about timing - you reviewed around nine-ish this morning, and I read the review at 12:30 PM. Fair warning to you both, I…err…played around with some personalities. Trowa's WAY more talkative in my fic than he was in the actual series. I tried to keep everyone else IC (sort of), but Trowa had to change to stay with my plot. * Blinks in shock * Did I just say I have a pre-planned plot? The world must be ending. I never plan anything. Anyways, if you have questions, comments, suggestions, feel free to review again or send me an email at chaoscatgirl@yahoo.com. Oh people, if you want to help me decide how to pair the other boys up, feel free to mention that in your reviews too, because Trowa and Quatre are the only set couple I have right now ^_^.

 

Warnings: Err…nothing much for this chapter. Trowa acting OOC, that's about it.

 

Disclaimer: I don't own `em. (Quatre heard speaking in the background: “Thank Allah!” Authoress glares and grabs muse, stuffing him in a closet that already contains a tied-up Trowa.)

 

Chapter 2: A Really Big Hole In The Wall

 

The slender man grabbed his elven friend's arm and threw it over his shoulder. “Come on!” he hissed frantically, speaking in Common, the language used by all of the peoples of the land of Makai. “Come on, you blasted fool, walk!”

 

The elf managed to stagger along as he half dragged him down the dank, dark corridor. “No need for insults,” he muttered. “I'm doing the best I can. Sleeping drugs tend to slow one down, Fei.”

 

“Shut up and move,” his companion hissed. “We've got to get out. I was seen. It's only a matter of time before they come after us.”

 

The dark mage stubbed his toe on a loose stone in the corridor and spat out a curse in one of the old elvish tongues that he'd been forced to learn as a child. He was not dressed for a fight in the dark castle of Blacknight; he'd penetrated the place by using a Remebrian courtesan disguise - a disguise which he was now deeply regretting as his slender feet continued to be abused through their thin slippers by the rough floor of the hallway he and his partner were racing down.

 

They reached the end of the corridor to find themselves seemingly at a dead end.

 

“What now?”

 

“Over there! I heard something over this way!” a guttural voice called. The heavy footsteps of what Wufei guessed to be about ten men were getting very close.

 

The warrior mage whirled to face the dead end, his mind racing. They hadn't gone nearly far enough downhill; his friend had been imprisoned in a high tower, and though he'd managed to get them out of the tower, he knew they had to be several hundred feet above solid ground still. And they were cornered - there was no other doorway leading away from the passage they were in.

 

“Time to go,” he muttered.

 

The elf groaned. “Somehow, I knew you'd get around to saying that,” he complained exhaustedly. “I don't have the strength, Wufei. No way I'm teleporting anything out of here.”

 

“Who said anything about teleporting?” Wufei asked grimly. He raised his hands out in front of him and drew in a deep breath.

 

“There they are!” Soldiers clad in the black uniform of the dark fort burst around the corner.

 

“Ater Marcai Ve Dedra An.”

 

BOOM.

 

Where the dead end had been, there was now an enormous, perfectly circular hole that was still faintly smoking from the magical blast Wufei had called forth. He grabbed his friend's hand. “Hope you're not afraid of heights, Trowa.”

 

“What the hell are you -!” The rest of his phrase was cut off as the powerful mage grabbed his elven companion bodily around the waist and leaped, hurling them both from the high wall of the castle of Blacknight.

 

“Merciful Malinaaaaa!” the elf cried as they plummeted. “Why me?!”

 

“Idiot,” Wufei gasped out as he invoked a charm to levitate them in midair. Abruptly, the air beneath their feet felt as solid as the earth itself.

 

The two adventurers turned to look back at the hole they'd jumped from. The squad of soldiers was still there, gaping down at the pair of them like the mindless fools that they were.

 

“You'd think they never saw anybody stop falling in midair,” Wufei commented a bit breathlessly as he went through the hand gestures that would stabilize the hasty spell he'd cast.

 

Trowa Barton stared at his longtime friend and sometime partner, then said very quietly, “If you ever do that again, I shall rip those pretty obsidian eyes from their sockets, throw them to the first carrion crawlers that we see, and laugh when you try to walk and bump into walls.”

 

“I got you out, didn't I?” Wufei's hands flashed as he cast another voiceless spell that caused a shining golden globe to surround them. It began to float at a considerable speed toward the port city of Laerun where Trowa made his home.

 

“On the whole, the dungeon was more comfortable than the escape.”

 

“Last time I come to rescue your sorry ass.”

 

Trowa sighed, and sat on the floor of the golden globe they were traveling in, glancing about as he did so. “Isn't this a bit conspicuous? I mean, if you want to go for the pretty and sparkly and all-evil-mages-for-miles-around-come-and-get-me look, then you're right on. But somehow, I don't think that's the impression you want to give.”

 

“Speed was what I wanted, and this is the fastest way of magical travel that I could manage on short notice. It's not like I had an hour to prepare something that stood out a bit less.”

 

“Mages,” Trowa said disgustedly. “Always need an hour to do the simplest things, and even then half the time it's not done the way it's supposed to.”

 

“Trowa Barton, you can shut your fat trap right now. As I recall, you didn't have a way out of that hell-hole. So don't complain about the way I do things.” Wufei Chang sat down beside his friend. In a lower voice, he added, “Besides, it's not like there was time for me to think and see if there was another way of doing it - which there isn't - not if I wanted to get you out of there.”

 

Trowa sighed again, and draped his arm about Wufei's shoulders, giving him a grateful squeeze. “Thanks, Fei. What is this, life-debt number three now?”

 

“Life debt?” Wufei looked sharply at him. “You were kidnapped because you held some information they wanted, or so I'm assuming. Why would they want to kill you?”

 

“Oh, I called them a few nasty names while they were - interrogating me.” He smiled blandly. “It seems they discovered that they don't like to be insulted by elven espers.”

 

He chuckled. “I can imagine. What happened to last person that you insulted - it was that mean ole gypsy woman that predicted an early death for you, wasn't it?”

 

“She ended up with nightmares for six months straight - I think. It's so hard to keep track of who one dislikes when there are so many fools in the world to begin with.”

 

Wufei chuckled again. “So what happened to your interrogators?”

 

“Poor things - it seems all of them came down with a mysterious illness that kept them violently sick for weeks.”

 

Wufei laughed. “I'm glad you never call me names. It would be a disadvantage, getting sick and having nightmares every few minutes. At least, it would be if you insulted me as often as I call you names.”

 

“Ah, but the key there is that it's you doing the insulting. So I don't mind.” Trowa smiled charmingly, flashing the white, even teeth of his family. “After all, not every man can claim that he's been insulted by the heir to the most powerful High Mage alive.”

 

“Oh, shut your trap,” he muttered again, but there was no bite in his tired voice. The two friends rested against one another in grateful silence as the golden globe flew deep into the night that blanketed Suzonia.

 

 

 

“Heir to the most powerful High Mage alive?” the man sneered, gazing into his scrying bowl. “Pathetic. He can't even sense when he's being magically observed. What has Silverspur been teaching his whelp?”

 

Trowa Barton had fallen asleep leaning back against the traveling globe that Wufei had hastily cobbled together. The warrior mage, however, was still awake. He stood abruptly.

 

“Silverspur taught his whelp plenty.” Though his lips did not move at all, the angry words sounded in the cold, empty chamber the older mage stood in as clearly as if he was standing there himself.

 

There was a loud crack as the scrying bowl shattered and the precious spring water within it spilled everywhere. The older mage cursed in a variety of languages as he picked up the tiny pieces of his costly magical tool. The spring water could not be replaced, as it had come from a magical spring guarded by unicorns that was never in the same place twice. It was impossible to track, and he had found it the first time only by sheer luck.

 

It appeared he had underestimated his foes. Very well. He would find another way to hold a hand over Wufei Chang's head.

 

 

 

Trowa woke with a jolt, feeling his friend's magic flare with a sharp fury. “Fei?” he asked wearily.

 

The magic died away as swiftly as it had appeared. “It's nothing, Trowa. Go back to sleep.”

 

Trowa heard the tightness in Wufei's voice, and sat up to get a better look at the slender mage's face. He'd known him for so long that it was only occasionally, like now, that he realized how beautiful he was.

 

Wufei Chang stood at a grand total of five feet four inches. Heavy, thick, raven hair hung down almost to his butt, kept tamed in a tight braid. His eyes were a blazing obsidian to match his hair, their brilliance and exotic slant unusual even among the magical elven races. His skin was fair and unblemished by battle scars, a mark of his extraordinary prowess in the fighting arts - all those that he had fought had been the ones that ended up with the scars, or worse. He was slender as a willow wand. His graceful form looked deceptively fragile, but this was an illusion that had cost many a dark wizard their lives. Delicate and deadly, Trowa thought. Those were the words to describe Wufei Chang.

 

Very deadly at the moment, he noted, seeing the suppressed anger still smoldering in his eyes. He pitied the next fool who annoyed Wufei - they were going to get beaten very badly.

 

He watched him for a moment to let him know he was not fooled by the words it's nothing, then wisely turned his back on Wufei and pretended to go back to sleep.

 

Wufei's lip curled. “Oh, stop it. I know you're not sleeping.”

 

Trowa sat up and braced his back against the golden globe, keeping his eyes closed. “I won't ever be, if you keep talking. You told me to go back to sleep, didn't you?”

 

Wufei sighed, then did something Trowa hadn't expected. He lay down and put his head in his lap. “Don't ask me things,” he mumbled. “I don't want to talk and keep you from your sleep, after all.”

 

As the mage closed his eyes, Trowa reached down and gently brushed away his silken hair from his face. “Wufei, Wufei. When will you learn...?” he murmured.

 

“Learn what...?” she asked sleepily, already drifting off.

 

“I will always ask things of you. You are the only one I can trust enough to ask them.”

 

As the golden globe approached the now-quiet city of Laerun, Wufei's lips curled up in a faint, almost indiscernible smile.

 

 

 

It was in the faint, early hours before dawn when the globe came to a gentle rest just outside the city gates. Trowa woke up, and finding his friend still asleep, resignedly lifted him up into his arms and approached the city gates. One of the gate guards recognized him and called for the gate to be opened.

 

“Where've ye been, m'lord?” the man asked as he ushered them in with only a spare glance for the beautiful man in Trowa's arms. “The lady Catherine's been that frantic about ye.”

 

“I was enjoying the hospitality of Blacknight,” Trowa answered with a grimace, not at all bothered by the familiar way in which he was addressed by the guard. Being friends with all the members of the night watch of the battlements surrounding Laerun had its advantages.

 

The human guard winced. “How'd ye get away?”

 

“This man saved me,” Trowa said quietly, nodding at Wufei. “He is a childhood friend.” He was quiet for a moment as he walked down the street towards the inn situated by the gates, still accompanied by the friendly guard. “This is not the first time he has come to my aid.” The tone in which he stated the last made it clear to the sentry that he was not interested in answering anymore questions, and the guard took the hint.

 

“A good night to ye, mi'lord,” he said respectfully, touching his hat before moving off back towards the battlements.

 

Trowa entered the tavern hall of the Alessandra Inn to find it bustling with activity, even at the painfully early hour. Of course, the Alessandra Inn was a stopping place for both human and elven trading caravans, either traveling by land or by sea. There were few inns in Suzonia that boasted such comfortable rooms, in addition to vast stables and warehouses for temporary secure storage of goods. Elves and humans, dwarves and demons, and an occasional member of one of the other intelligent races of the world of Ulaya all commingled in a relaxed, congenial atmosphere that was not to be found in almost any other place.

 

The inn's proprietor, Dendrick Esetar, was a dour, silent elf whose silver eyes missed nothing. He kept his own council better than anyone Trowa had ever met, and his cozy establishment seemed designed with discretion in mind. As a result, the Alessandra Inn was ever abuzz with intrigue, deal-making, and seemingly random meetings.

 

Wufei Chang was well-known to the elven proprietor, since the lovely mage always stopped at the inn whenever he was in the part of Suzonia, and Dendrick made a point of never forgetting a frequent face. Trowa was well-acquainted with Esetar himself, since the elven esper's family had vast lands north of Laerun and many merchant concerns within the caravans that habitually passed through the port city.

 

As usual, Dendrick met him at the foot of the stairs leading into the hall, bowing gracefully. “Lord Barton. Your presence honors this house. Is there anything that you require this evening, dene` ansar?”

 

As usual, Trowa, having made a point of severing connections with his family at an early age for a life of adventuring, winced at the extreme deference of his greeting. “I would like a room if it is not too much trouble, Dendrick. Wufei needs to rest.”

 

“Of course.” That was enough for the innkeeper. He led them down one of the many side halls and opened a door to a chamber, revealing a large, spacious room tastefully decorated in shades of blue and gray, with two good-sized beds and a dresser and mirror, as well as a wardrobe. There was a fairly large window as well, facing the not-so-distant ocean that was beginning to sparkle with the first rays of the light of dawn.

 

“Will this do, Lord Barton?”

 

Trowa, knowing that this time of year the traders would really begin to pour in and that such comfortable rooms would shortly be in very short supply, nodded to the innkeeper gratefully. “This will do marvelously, Dendrick. You have my greatest thanks.”

 

“No need at all,” the elf responded as usual, but there was a ring of truth in his voice that was not always there. Trowa Barton was a good man and a good friend.

 

Trowa stepped inside the room, and Dendrick kindly shut the door. Trowa laid Wufei on the nearest bed, then with a weary sigh stepped to the window and watched the dawn appear, spreading light all over the already active trading port. Home sweet home, for now. But as he watched the sun rise, he couldn't shake the powerful sense of foreboding that something was going to happen soon. Something bad.