Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Dragon's Prince ❯ Chapter 1

"ONNA!" WHAP! CLANG!

Another combatant foolish enough to challenge the Dragon fled from the battle grounds cradling his sword hand, sniveling like a scolded child and muttering darkly of misfortunes that should befall his victorious opponent. The unfortunate defeated party failed to notice the blonde brushing past him in a bit of a huff, his focus solely on the combat grounds.

Zechs Marquise, undoubtedly the troubadour champion of the entire kingdom of OZ, was far from pleased. It had been his pleasure to take the Chinese boy as a pupil after being reassigned from tutoring to poetry for so very long, but the boy hardly took his lessons seriously. This was the fifth time in a fortnight that he had slipped away from his studies to practice swordplay! This had to stop!

"CHANG WUFEI!" the blonde thundered, making the Chinese boy falter and look up from his shadowboxing. "This is the fifth time in a fortnight you've neglected your scholarly duties! What good is swordplay if there is not a sound mind to back up your brute strength?!"

The teen would not show his regret for upsetting his tutor here on the field of honor, so he feigned indifference and sheathed his broadsword in his yellow sash. Wufei was an exotic creature, of that anyone was certain. He was fast approaching his eighteenth year of life, a time for matrimony, but he looked as though his calling was in combat, not child-rearing. His sleek bronze body was rippling with muscles, though some of the bronze was etched with silver from scars from wounds long past He'd already discarded his white silk robe in favor of going shirtless, looking all the more godly for it. His marble-carved calves strained under the silks that made up his white trousers, as though the silks were trying to form a second skin and failing in their feebleness.

Chang Wufei cast his midnight eyes' gaze to his tutor and swept his raven-hued shoulder length locks back to tie them into a small tail at the nape of his neck with a length of twine. "You are upset, Master Zechs?" he asked, slipping his feet back into the black slippers he'd discarded at the beginning of his duel. "Young Sir Odin was not to be delayed any longer, Master Zechs. He demanded a duel of me, and I did give it. You yourself have told me not to bow out of a challenge."

Zechs hated when his pupil spat his own words at him, but he was still pretty upset, so it didn't hold much effect. "Perhaps on your own time, Wufei! But every morning from noon to evening prayer, you are mine to educate! I will not allow you to discard such a valuable thing as an education in order to strengthen your already-toned body! Am I clear?!"

"Crystal," Wufei sighed in defeat, picking up his robe and following his irate tutor inside. They made quite a pair entering the castle. Wufei casually replaced his top and cast a casually appraising look to Zechs, who was still stomping to the library and had a rich blush in his cheeks. It perfectly matched the burgundy of his doublet, as well as his velvet knickers, but the teen decided that perhaps it was best he keep that compliment to himself for the time being. One thing he'd learned quickly; stay silent.

Zechs threw open the library's doors and pointed to Wufei's desk impatiently. "SIT!" he snapped, making Wufei hop to smartly. To calm himself, the blonde began fussing over the frilled cuffs of his white shirt, using that time to sort his lecture before presenting it. "Remind me once more why it was you were sent here, Wufei."

The Chinese male cleverly concealed a gulp and began to explain himself. "Well, Master Zechs, I was born the third son of the Emperor's most favored General and brother, and as such I could not inherit the role of General from my father. My uncle the Emperor raised me instead, since he was in need of a way of communication between his empire and your empire. Negotiations had been going sour ever since our liaison, simply called O, was unable to properly commute with Queen Une's messengers. I was sent in O's place when he was exiled for crimes against his Imperial Majesty, and I was able to successfully evade war and negotiate peace between the kingdoms. Since then, my uncle His Majesty has commanded I continue my education here and act as a representative for the empire."

"And how long have you held this position?" Zechs demanded.

"The negotiations were years ago, Master Zechs. I was perhaps twelve when I replaced O, and fourteen when the peace negotiations succeeded." Wufei could have sworn he could have cut the friction in the air with a knife it was so thick. "May I inquire why you ask, Sir?"

Zechs almost smirked, but held himself in check and rounded upon his pupil. "Because I could have sworn I was dealing with a ten-year-old! Eighteen-year-old men do not run off to spar when they have a prior appointment to keep! Children dodge out of their lessons and must be retrieved by their tutors! Those same children, I might add, are immediately disciplined to keep them from doing so when they are adults! Am I to understand that you are not mature enough to handle such a responsibility as the one your uncle the Emperor imposed upon you? Has it come to a point where I'll have to whip you to get you to behave maturely?!"

Wufei stood swiftly as the blood rushed to his cheeks. "TAKE THAT BACK!"

"I will not!" Zechs countered, forcing Wufei to take a seat once more. "I base my lecture on observation alone, Chang Wufei of the Long Clan. It will be up to you to change my mind, and openly challenging me is not what I mean. Prove me wrong, Wufei. It is not my desire to whip you and treat you like a child. I am here to teach you, but I will not teach anyone who does not take lessons seriously."

The disappointment carried in Zechs's words made Wufei wish he had been whipped; it would have been much easier to be angry with Zechs if he'd sustained a physical blow instead of a shot to the heart. "You are right, Sir," Wufei relinquished, taking up the weighty volume he'd been copying from and returning to his work.

Zechs smiled in spite of himself and tucked his hand under Wufei's chin to tilt his face up. "I am only three years older than you, my friend. We ought to reserve `Sir' for the elderly, ne?" The Dragon smirked and chuckled, relief washing over him as the ill feeling dissipated from the room. "I am not condoning battles over books, but I am curious. How is it Sir Odin challenged you anyway?"

"The fool claimed that since I had not sought the companionship of a woman, I was slowly taking control of you and using you as a pleasure slave. You have too strong a will to be dominated by someone like me, and I will not stand for anyone else to try at you."

"I am honored, Wufei, but perhaps it is best that next time we let the rumor run its course. Trust me; Queen Une would not let it get past the latrines. That's all that a rumor like that is worth, anyway!" The men had a hearty laugh over the stupidity of rumors and exchanged some of the latest gossip they'd heard about one another. It seemed to be a bit of a game between them. They would gather and spend time each day, sorting the rumors and deciding which rumor was worst, and whomever it was about was proclaimed winner.

The game was cut short by a sudden squeal of anguish from the direction of the throne room. Curiosity now peaked, the pair got up from the desk and crept like children to the door, peeking out just in time to see Sir Odin streak past with his arms over his head, defending himself from a volley of pebbles shot from Queen Une's fabled sling. "OUT! LITTLE SNIVELING COWARDS HAVE NO PLACE IN MY KINGDOM! DON'T EVER DARE SHOW YOUR FACE AGAIN OR I WILL SEND MY HOUNDS FOR YOUR WORTHLESS CARCASS!"

Zechs smirked and poked Wufei in the back to get his attention. "I told you Queen Une would have no rumors spread of us."

"Chang Wufei!" Une rested her sling at her side and approached the library, readjusting her hair and dress that had been rumpled in the sudden pursuit of Odin. "I would be most grateful if you did not incapacitate my subordinates in future. I shall deal with any misgivings my men might have with you."

"My gratitude is innumerable, Majesty," he answered with a buttery-smooth bow that left Une's heart, as well as those in attendance, fluttering like a moth in candlelight. "If you will kindly excuse me. Master Zechs and I are in the middle of translating a Roman passage. It wold be rude of me to further detain you from the preparations for your festival."

Une inclined her head nobly, in gratitude for Wufei's understanding. "I hope to see you at the swordplay, Lord Chang. And you, Lord Marquise, perhaps you will entertain us with another ballad?"

"I had considered such, My Queen," Zechs replied, his finesse easily outdoing Wufei's. "With luck, our dear friend Ovid may be of some inspiration. I shall be ready, rest assured, Majesty. Come, Wufei; we have neglected Ovid too long for my tastes. If you will excuse us please, Majesty…"

Une smirked and waved her hand dismissively. "You and your flowery talk. Go, return to your dusty volumes if you must. I, however, would encourage you to follow Lord Chang's example and maybe take a break for some real air and sunlight once in a while." As the Queen departed, Wufei returned to his desk with a triumphant grin. It soon disappeared under Zechs's strong glare.