Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Enslaving the Heart ❯ Twice Marked ( Chapter 4 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Violet_Nyte 
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.21.2002 | Pages: 4 | Words: 2.1K | Visits: 369 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.21.2002 | Pages: 4 | Words: 2.1K | Visits: 369 | Status: Work In Progress
LSE // 9-21-02
(Enslaving the Heart - Chapter Four: Twice Marked)
rated: R - adult language, content
shounen-ai/extreme AU
Twice Marked
A foreign object was impaled through the soft tissue of his ear,
curving around and meeting in a solid loop with no practical end.
Heero ran a cautious finger along the metal ring, feeling the
gleaming gold beneath his skin. Gold, for whatever reasons. He
shuddered, remembering the look in Lady Relena's iced hues.
Burning pain raced along his thigh from the branding, even though the
act had occurred some time ago. Although, he thought we grim pride,
it turned out that Noin would just have to live without hearing him
scream. Surprisingly, the branding hurt less than the earring.
He navigated as best he could through one of the damp and narrow slave
passages that allowed quick access to the manor without being visible
by the occupants. Selecting the proper door, he led himself into the
house slave's dining hall. Dining chamber would be a more accurate
label.
There were already a few tired looking slaves huddled around the long
wooden table, and Heero took his seat a polite distance from them. He
didn't feel like socializing. He sat there for a few minutes before
realizing lunch was a self-serve occasion. Feeling foolish, but
opting to look like he meant to sit there uselessly, Heero rose and
went over the cooking pot set on a rickety table. The poor table
looked ready to surrender its burden at any moment, so he readily
took a bowl and took a generous portion of the pot's contents to
lighten the load.
Resuming his perch on the bench, Heero looked down at his bowl and
realized that he would need a spoon to shovel the thick stew in with.
He started to rise, but a gentle voice said, "Here you are!" and set
the desired instrument beside his bowl.
Heero looked up in mild surprise and found himself faced off with a
small blonde boy, who gave a warm smile and sat beside him. So much
for anti-socialism. "Does it hurt much?" the boy asked suddenly, his
features melted into a look of genuine concern.
"What?" was Heero's brilliantly articulate response. A few seconds
later: "Oh, the ear. No, not really."
The blonde nodded sagely and extended a hand in greeting, "I'm
Quatre. It's nice to meet you."
Surprisingly, the boy sounded as if he truly meant it. Heero took the
hand and, when the contact had ended, found himself looking at the
gold earring through the blonde's ear. Gold, not silver. Which told
him nothing except Quatre was a house slave, but that would be
obvious considering where they were at.
Wait, he needed to say something. Coherent, preferably. "Heero."
"Pardon?" Quatre said, a bit confused. "Oh, is that your name? It's
nice," the boy looked as if he were going to say more, but suddenly
his gaze wandered off Heero's face and fixed on something off his
shoulder and to the left.
Heero watched, transfixed, as the entire boy's face illuminated with
a sudden burst of happiness. He twisted around in his seat and
followed the blonde's aquamarine gaze to rest upon a tall boy with
sweeping brown bangs that fell over one eye, but the eye that
remained was a brilliant green. Emerald.
After getting his meal, the boy walked over and took a seat beside
Quatre, who turned to him and positively beamed. "Trowa, this is
Heero. Heero, this is Trowa."
Heero nodded to the boy, who nodded back and firmly set to eating.
That was the end of the introduction, apparently. "Trowa works in the
stables," Quatre said with a hint of pride in his voice. "Where have
you been assigned?"
Heero shrugged, "I find out tomorrow."
Like Quatre and himself, Trowa sported a gold earring in one ear.
Heero was curious as to precisely why some of the house slaves had
silver and others had gold. Clearly, it was not based on where the
slaves worked, because Quatre's hands were soft and unmarked by labor.
"What about you?" he asked, wanting to steer the conversation off of
himself. Perhaps if he socialized with the other slaves enough he
could pick up enough information to see himself off the estate and
back to home. Home...
"I play the violin for Lady Peacecraft whenever she needs
entertainment. Other than that, I clean," Quatre offered with slight
smile. Heero raised an eyebrow and the blonde shrugged, poking his
stew with a spoon warily. "I wish I would get transferred to kitchen
duty. I'm positive they didn't wash these vegetables before cooking."
Trowa laughed silently and whispered something into Quatre's ear
which caused him to grin in response. Heero felt a distinct
loneliness at being excluded from their small circle, but instantly
beat that part of him up and stole its earring. He had no need for
company, merely the information and supplies to organize escape. If
Trowa worked in the stable, he could perhaps procure a horse...
"Nice to meet you," Heero said with as much feeling as he could
generate. Rising, he set his dishes aside and started back through
the slave passages. He had spent the morning in the kitchen turning
the fire spits, and as he made his was back to the kitchen, he was
not eager to spend the afternoon in the same manner.
When he arrived, Mistress Holt, the stout freewoman who ran the
kitchens, paused from her duties to bark at him, "Wash pots with
Sarilyn!"
For a moment, Heero looked stupidly out at the ordered chaos before
realizing he knew precisely where to go. Navigating through, he made
his was over to the same dishwasher he'd talked to earlier. She
didn't bother to look up from her work as he approached. "Set the
dishes here and I'll get to them when I can," Sarilyn said, gesturing
slightly with a shoulder.
"I'm here to wash," Heero explained as he knelt on the other side of
the tub and took a dirty skillet from the stack of dishes.
A soft clank rang out, muted by the water, as the girl dropped the
pot she was washing and looked up, clearly startled, at Heero. She
brushed back a loose strand of pale red hair, "What?"
"Mistress Holt. She said to wash pots with Sarilyn. Are you Sarilyn?"
"Yeah, Sari. I've been doing this for three years and I just now get
assistance? Figures," the girl muttered as she fetched the fallen pot
and resumed scrubbing.
Heero mimicked her actions with the skillet he'd taken and soon fell
into an easy rhythm. Not the most interesting job by far, but at
least it gave him plenty of time for thoughts. What was his fate,
here at the Peacecraft manor? Hopefully, he could arrange and execute
escape before the completion of the month.
Perhaps Lady Relena could be of use. That boy from lunch, Trowa,
would also come in handy. Heero assigned himself the task of finding
out what sort of securities he would have to break, the first of
which being how to slip out in the night without detection.
------------------------------------------------------- ---------------
"Working sucks."
Wufei grunted slightly and pretended he wasn't paying any attention
to Duo's comments, but a small smirk gave it away. "I'm supposed to
whip you if you talk," Wufei said under his breath, pausing before
Duo as if he was examining his work.
"I don't listen to such talk outside the bedroom," Duo whispered
back, his infectious grin leaking across and on to Wufei's face.
"Wufei!" Trieze barked from the opposite side of the building,
walking around the massive machinery to pin the boy with his glare.
"Cut it out, Maxwell, you're going to get me in trouble," Wufei
whispered as he straightened and turned to the slave master. He
quickly gave a minute salute and shouted back, "All clear over here,
Master Trieze!"
Trieze nodded slightly to himself and continued on to the next row of
slaves. Duo's nimble fingers danced over the spindles, plucking the
thin cotton strands as they were woven into broad rolls of fabric.
Peacecraft textiles were among the most sophisticated in the region
and made up a large portion of the estate's income. Duo, however,
remained oblivious to the importance of his work, but merely took
solace in the fact that he no longer worked the long hours in the
field tending to the cotton that supplied the machines.
Wufei reluctantly moved down the line, snapping orders to the slaves
every once in a while to keep up appearances for Trieze. Suddenly,
the air was pierced by a long, thin scream of terror that nearly
caused Duo to ruin the entire mass of work before him. Trieze shouted
something and a groan went up through the machines as they were cut
off, one by one. Duo bent quickly to his task, frantically trying to
keep the threads from tangling as his machine shut off beneath him.
The scream went on and on as Trieze continued to shout in anger.
Wufei's footsteps echoed off the stone floor as he raced over to the
opposing row of machines. Duo's machine finally came to a halt and he
stood back from it, grateful for the respite but feeling guilty in
the same instance. The slaves tending machinery on either side of him
peered across the way, looking to see who had gotten tangled in their
work. Literally.
"Maxwell!" Wufei shouted, waving for him. Duo broke from his machine
and hurried over, coming around the towering machine and upon the
scene. A careless slave had neglected to pay attention to their work
and let their sleeve fall into the spindles.
Duo shuddered slightly at the carnage, but walked fixedly over to
Wufei and Trieze, who was shouted oaths at the slave for being so
careless. Not as if the poor slave was paying much attention, not
with his arm all but torn free by the powerful jaws of his machine.
Together, he and Wufei untangled the slave as much they could intact
and lowering him to the floor, blood flowing out over their feet.
"You'll be okay," Duo whispered slightly to the terrified slave,
speaking softly so that the irate Trieze would not over hear.
Wufei heard the reassurance and looked up slightly, shaking his head
at Duo in reprimand. "Master Trieze, shall we take him to the
surgeon?"
Trieze gladly coldly down at the bloodied form on the floor, "No. Let
him lay there. He's set back production for the entire day and ruined
his machine. It will take hours to clean the gears of his blood!
Bastard!" Trieze cried vehemently, kicking the slave.
"Master Trieze, you might be able to salvage the boy if we hurry,"
Wufei put forward, trying but failing to conceal his disapproval of
Trieze's orders. Duo froze, not wanting to witness the showdown
between Master and slave, but not able to will his body into motion.
Please, Wufei, don't do this! Duo thought, wanting to grab his friend
and drag him away by force. Wanting to punch the smug look off
Trieze's face.
Trieze lifted back his hand and slapped Wufei across the face,
transferring his rage from the wounded slave to Wufei in a single
motion. "Questioning MY authority, Chang?" Trieze sneered, spitting
the name out like an insult.
"Death is not a fair price for his mistake!" Wufei shouted in
challenge.
"I will decide what is fair, boy!"
"This is an insult to justice!"
Wufei didn't flinch when Trieze raised his hand once more, but the
blow knocked him to the ground. Trieze looked down, flexing his hands
slightly with desire for Wufei to get back up and challenge him.
The fight had been knocked out of Wufei, or he had sensed the futility
of his resistance. The boy merely coughed out a mouthful of blood
from his split lip and settled to glare up at Trieze.
Trieze smiled coldly as he said, "I am justice."
~*~*~*~*~*~*End*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Aut hor's Notes: I like how this part came out. Let's see, not much to
say here, really. Thank you very much for all the kind and
encouraging reviews that you have sent in so far. I'm really pleased
overall of how this story is progressing and I plan on seeing it to
the end. No school on Monday, yay! Another two days for writing.
Feedback/reviews are very much appreciated! More chapters soon.
copyright 2002 - Gundam Wing and characters copyright other people.
LSE - "Violet" (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)
Email me to join my Update ML (be alerted when I add new stories)
www.geocities.com/manzokubiscuit/index.html
(Enslaving the Heart - Chapter Four: Twice Marked)
rated: R - adult language, content
shounen-ai/extreme AU
Twice Marked
A foreign object was impaled through the soft tissue of his ear,
curving around and meeting in a solid loop with no practical end.
Heero ran a cautious finger along the metal ring, feeling the
gleaming gold beneath his skin. Gold, for whatever reasons. He
shuddered, remembering the look in Lady Relena's iced hues.
Burning pain raced along his thigh from the branding, even though the
act had occurred some time ago. Although, he thought we grim pride,
it turned out that Noin would just have to live without hearing him
scream. Surprisingly, the branding hurt less than the earring.
He navigated as best he could through one of the damp and narrow slave
passages that allowed quick access to the manor without being visible
by the occupants. Selecting the proper door, he led himself into the
house slave's dining hall. Dining chamber would be a more accurate
label.
There were already a few tired looking slaves huddled around the long
wooden table, and Heero took his seat a polite distance from them. He
didn't feel like socializing. He sat there for a few minutes before
realizing lunch was a self-serve occasion. Feeling foolish, but
opting to look like he meant to sit there uselessly, Heero rose and
went over the cooking pot set on a rickety table. The poor table
looked ready to surrender its burden at any moment, so he readily
took a bowl and took a generous portion of the pot's contents to
lighten the load.
Resuming his perch on the bench, Heero looked down at his bowl and
realized that he would need a spoon to shovel the thick stew in with.
He started to rise, but a gentle voice said, "Here you are!" and set
the desired instrument beside his bowl.
Heero looked up in mild surprise and found himself faced off with a
small blonde boy, who gave a warm smile and sat beside him. So much
for anti-socialism. "Does it hurt much?" the boy asked suddenly, his
features melted into a look of genuine concern.
"What?" was Heero's brilliantly articulate response. A few seconds
later: "Oh, the ear. No, not really."
The blonde nodded sagely and extended a hand in greeting, "I'm
Quatre. It's nice to meet you."
Surprisingly, the boy sounded as if he truly meant it. Heero took the
hand and, when the contact had ended, found himself looking at the
gold earring through the blonde's ear. Gold, not silver. Which told
him nothing except Quatre was a house slave, but that would be
obvious considering where they were at.
Wait, he needed to say something. Coherent, preferably. "Heero."
"Pardon?" Quatre said, a bit confused. "Oh, is that your name? It's
nice," the boy looked as if he were going to say more, but suddenly
his gaze wandered off Heero's face and fixed on something off his
shoulder and to the left.
Heero watched, transfixed, as the entire boy's face illuminated with
a sudden burst of happiness. He twisted around in his seat and
followed the blonde's aquamarine gaze to rest upon a tall boy with
sweeping brown bangs that fell over one eye, but the eye that
remained was a brilliant green. Emerald.
After getting his meal, the boy walked over and took a seat beside
Quatre, who turned to him and positively beamed. "Trowa, this is
Heero. Heero, this is Trowa."
Heero nodded to the boy, who nodded back and firmly set to eating.
That was the end of the introduction, apparently. "Trowa works in the
stables," Quatre said with a hint of pride in his voice. "Where have
you been assigned?"
Heero shrugged, "I find out tomorrow."
Like Quatre and himself, Trowa sported a gold earring in one ear.
Heero was curious as to precisely why some of the house slaves had
silver and others had gold. Clearly, it was not based on where the
slaves worked, because Quatre's hands were soft and unmarked by labor.
"What about you?" he asked, wanting to steer the conversation off of
himself. Perhaps if he socialized with the other slaves enough he
could pick up enough information to see himself off the estate and
back to home. Home...
"I play the violin for Lady Peacecraft whenever she needs
entertainment. Other than that, I clean," Quatre offered with slight
smile. Heero raised an eyebrow and the blonde shrugged, poking his
stew with a spoon warily. "I wish I would get transferred to kitchen
duty. I'm positive they didn't wash these vegetables before cooking."
Trowa laughed silently and whispered something into Quatre's ear
which caused him to grin in response. Heero felt a distinct
loneliness at being excluded from their small circle, but instantly
beat that part of him up and stole its earring. He had no need for
company, merely the information and supplies to organize escape. If
Trowa worked in the stable, he could perhaps procure a horse...
"Nice to meet you," Heero said with as much feeling as he could
generate. Rising, he set his dishes aside and started back through
the slave passages. He had spent the morning in the kitchen turning
the fire spits, and as he made his was back to the kitchen, he was
not eager to spend the afternoon in the same manner.
When he arrived, Mistress Holt, the stout freewoman who ran the
kitchens, paused from her duties to bark at him, "Wash pots with
Sarilyn!"
For a moment, Heero looked stupidly out at the ordered chaos before
realizing he knew precisely where to go. Navigating through, he made
his was over to the same dishwasher he'd talked to earlier. She
didn't bother to look up from her work as he approached. "Set the
dishes here and I'll get to them when I can," Sarilyn said, gesturing
slightly with a shoulder.
"I'm here to wash," Heero explained as he knelt on the other side of
the tub and took a dirty skillet from the stack of dishes.
A soft clank rang out, muted by the water, as the girl dropped the
pot she was washing and looked up, clearly startled, at Heero. She
brushed back a loose strand of pale red hair, "What?"
"Mistress Holt. She said to wash pots with Sarilyn. Are you Sarilyn?"
"Yeah, Sari. I've been doing this for three years and I just now get
assistance? Figures," the girl muttered as she fetched the fallen pot
and resumed scrubbing.
Heero mimicked her actions with the skillet he'd taken and soon fell
into an easy rhythm. Not the most interesting job by far, but at
least it gave him plenty of time for thoughts. What was his fate,
here at the Peacecraft manor? Hopefully, he could arrange and execute
escape before the completion of the month.
Perhaps Lady Relena could be of use. That boy from lunch, Trowa,
would also come in handy. Heero assigned himself the task of finding
out what sort of securities he would have to break, the first of
which being how to slip out in the night without detection.
------------------------------------------------------- ---------------
"Working sucks."
Wufei grunted slightly and pretended he wasn't paying any attention
to Duo's comments, but a small smirk gave it away. "I'm supposed to
whip you if you talk," Wufei said under his breath, pausing before
Duo as if he was examining his work.
"I don't listen to such talk outside the bedroom," Duo whispered
back, his infectious grin leaking across and on to Wufei's face.
"Wufei!" Trieze barked from the opposite side of the building,
walking around the massive machinery to pin the boy with his glare.
"Cut it out, Maxwell, you're going to get me in trouble," Wufei
whispered as he straightened and turned to the slave master. He
quickly gave a minute salute and shouted back, "All clear over here,
Master Trieze!"
Trieze nodded slightly to himself and continued on to the next row of
slaves. Duo's nimble fingers danced over the spindles, plucking the
thin cotton strands as they were woven into broad rolls of fabric.
Peacecraft textiles were among the most sophisticated in the region
and made up a large portion of the estate's income. Duo, however,
remained oblivious to the importance of his work, but merely took
solace in the fact that he no longer worked the long hours in the
field tending to the cotton that supplied the machines.
Wufei reluctantly moved down the line, snapping orders to the slaves
every once in a while to keep up appearances for Trieze. Suddenly,
the air was pierced by a long, thin scream of terror that nearly
caused Duo to ruin the entire mass of work before him. Trieze shouted
something and a groan went up through the machines as they were cut
off, one by one. Duo bent quickly to his task, frantically trying to
keep the threads from tangling as his machine shut off beneath him.
The scream went on and on as Trieze continued to shout in anger.
Wufei's footsteps echoed off the stone floor as he raced over to the
opposing row of machines. Duo's machine finally came to a halt and he
stood back from it, grateful for the respite but feeling guilty in
the same instance. The slaves tending machinery on either side of him
peered across the way, looking to see who had gotten tangled in their
work. Literally.
"Maxwell!" Wufei shouted, waving for him. Duo broke from his machine
and hurried over, coming around the towering machine and upon the
scene. A careless slave had neglected to pay attention to their work
and let their sleeve fall into the spindles.
Duo shuddered slightly at the carnage, but walked fixedly over to
Wufei and Trieze, who was shouted oaths at the slave for being so
careless. Not as if the poor slave was paying much attention, not
with his arm all but torn free by the powerful jaws of his machine.
Together, he and Wufei untangled the slave as much they could intact
and lowering him to the floor, blood flowing out over their feet.
"You'll be okay," Duo whispered slightly to the terrified slave,
speaking softly so that the irate Trieze would not over hear.
Wufei heard the reassurance and looked up slightly, shaking his head
at Duo in reprimand. "Master Trieze, shall we take him to the
surgeon?"
Trieze gladly coldly down at the bloodied form on the floor, "No. Let
him lay there. He's set back production for the entire day and ruined
his machine. It will take hours to clean the gears of his blood!
Bastard!" Trieze cried vehemently, kicking the slave.
"Master Trieze, you might be able to salvage the boy if we hurry,"
Wufei put forward, trying but failing to conceal his disapproval of
Trieze's orders. Duo froze, not wanting to witness the showdown
between Master and slave, but not able to will his body into motion.
Please, Wufei, don't do this! Duo thought, wanting to grab his friend
and drag him away by force. Wanting to punch the smug look off
Trieze's face.
Trieze lifted back his hand and slapped Wufei across the face,
transferring his rage from the wounded slave to Wufei in a single
motion. "Questioning MY authority, Chang?" Trieze sneered, spitting
the name out like an insult.
"Death is not a fair price for his mistake!" Wufei shouted in
challenge.
"I will decide what is fair, boy!"
"This is an insult to justice!"
Wufei didn't flinch when Trieze raised his hand once more, but the
blow knocked him to the ground. Trieze looked down, flexing his hands
slightly with desire for Wufei to get back up and challenge him.
The fight had been knocked out of Wufei, or he had sensed the futility
of his resistance. The boy merely coughed out a mouthful of blood
from his split lip and settled to glare up at Trieze.
Trieze smiled coldly as he said, "I am justice."
~*~*~*~*~*~*End*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Aut hor's Notes: I like how this part came out. Let's see, not much to
say here, really. Thank you very much for all the kind and
encouraging reviews that you have sent in so far. I'm really pleased
overall of how this story is progressing and I plan on seeing it to
the end. No school on Monday, yay! Another two days for writing.
Feedback/reviews are very much appreciated! More chapters soon.
copyright 2002 - Gundam Wing and characters copyright other people.
LSE - "Violet" (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)
Email me to join my Update ML (be alerted when I add new stories)
www.geocities.com/manzokubiscuit/index.html