Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ These Bells That Ring ❯ These Bells That Ring ( Prologue )

Disclaimer: None of the characters from Gundam Wing are mine and I make no money from this or any other story.

Pairings: 1x5, 2+5, 13+5, 6x4 R+1 I think that's about all…^^'

Category: Angst, AU, Cross Over (?)

Warning: Yaoi / Shonen Ai

Rating: R

Title: These Bells That Ring

Author: yellowhorde

Please feel free to send comments and criticisms to yellowhorde@hotmail.com

Note: I finally managed to read `The Hunchback of Notre Dame', by Victor Hugo. But the book was SO DULL! The story idea was good; I just couldn't get into the story. If you are expecting this story to follow the book you will be disappointed. I have taken my creative license in hand and decided to do a little uh… pruning.

Now! On to the story!

THESE BELLS THAT RING

Prologue

Slowly two figures left the cramped, airless stairwell and passed under a stone archway that led into shadow filled chambers that seemed to stretch out for an eternity. Both were clutching sputtering torches that seemed to give off more smoke than light and the darkness laughed silently at these foolish mortals and pressed down around them with an almost physical weight that sought to crush their will, eat away at their souls. `This is no place for the likes of you' it whispered as a damp draft plucked eagerly at the dying flames. And the darkness was, after all, correct. Here in the bowels of the earth the good light of day was but a distant memory, a wistful dream…and it was most certainly no place for the living.

The taller man raised a lacy handkerchief to his nose in a futile attempt to block out the miasma of decay and rot that perforated the massive structure and gazed about him in despair as a wave of unfounded claustrophobia washed over him, through him. He raised his torch and the light beat back the darkness a little, but only a little. There was nothing to see but row upon row of moldering skeletons, many having long been reduced to piles of dust and bone fragments. The flickering light caught the highlights of his long blond hair giving the silky tresses the look of burnished gold. Sighing heavily, he turned towards his companion.

"Quatre, are you sure he is here?"

The smaller man nodded his head slowly as his eyes scanned the carnage that surrounded them on all sides. His mind felt slow and heavy as if he had taken a dram of some potent sleeping draught and he wondered again if the horror he saw before him was the stuff nightmares were made of or a dismal sort of reality. It was, in fact, both, for this was the last resting place for those criminals sentenced to death.

"We've searched everywhere else, Zechs. He has to be here."

Quatre was slight of build with wavy blond hair that framed a handsome face. Under ordinary circumstances he was pleasantly outgoing and full of laughter and smiles that lit up his entire face. His eyes were large and clear and most compelling but here, now, in the depths of the crypt those turquoise orbs glowed with a frantic sort of desperation and spoke of pain held close to the heart, of sorrow no human should have to endure.

The young musician took a hesitant step forward, then another. A third. His voice, which had been soft, yet steady, belied the panic that nibbled at his heart. What if they were wrong? What if he wasn't here? They had exhausted all other options and his peace of mind depended upon the success of this mission for this was his last chance to find peace…his last chance to put to rest the ghosts of the past that had haunted his dreams these last two years.

"I know he's here." He whispered fiercely as he turned and locked eyes with his lover. He stepped over towards the older man, his voice growing louder, stronger with each word spoken. "I can feel him, his presence. We must find him and set him free. This is no place for him. There is no light, no air, no flowers. No LIFE. I know he can't possibly be happy here. I know it."

For a long moment the silence of the dead mocked them, taunted them then Zechs slowly reached out and pulled Quatre into a clumsy one-armed embrace, pressing a kiss atop his bowed head. "You're right, Quatre," he murmured, "Wufei could never be a peace here. He deserves better."

The two men separated and began the search for their lost comrade. The ever-present veil of artificial night sapped their energy, numbed their minds, and began to greedily devour what little hope remained. The silence deepened and time seemed to stretch into eternity as they combed the vault searching for some sign, some recognizable piece of evidence that would end their quest once and for all. Then suddenly, Zech's was calling out from the far end of the enclosure, his voice sounding muffled as it crossed the gloom.

"Quatre! Over here!"

Quatre hurried and each footfall sent tiny puffs of dust and debris into the stale air. For a moment his heart soared and relief washed over him but as he approached the spot illuminated by Zech's torch relief was replaced with first trepidation, then despair. He knew what he would find, he had always known, and he was torn between expectation and dread.

His gaze fell upon the spot next to Zechs and Quatre was surprised to find not one but two skeletons stretched out on a marble slab. The first apparently belonged to a person with a smaller, more delicate bone structure, but was still obviously that of a young male. The popped vertebrae in the neck made it clear that this unfortunate had ended his days dangling from the hangman's noose.

The other skeleton, however, was in direct contrast to the first. It was a twisting hulking thing with an oddly shaped skull set awkwardly between two shoulders, one higher than the other, which led the eyes down a path towards a grossly deformed spine. Although the legs bones were long and looked strong enough, one was several inches shorter than the other. The larger skeleton's arms were wrapped about the frame of the smaller one in an almost protective embrace and its spine was, despite its deformity, perfectly whole without any of the signs that indicate death by hanging.

Silently, Quatre allowed his eyes to take in the details before him as he searched for clues. There, dangling from the once graceful neck of the first skeleton, a faint glimmer of gold… a circle that represented eternity. A closer inspection revealed familiar carvings, in a language unknown. The exact symbols were exotic and unfamiliar, but the meaning had once been explained to him. It had been a declaration of undying love that had endured beyond the grave. A ring and all the unbroken promises it represented. And here, here was a tattered scrap of silk, the remains of a handkerchief, white as the driven snow, bearing a faint but unmistakable oriental design.

Tears blurred Quatre's vision and ran hot as lava down his pale cheeks as memories bombarded him, clutched him and drew him back, back, into the past. A faint whimper escaped his tightly clenched throat and as if in slow motion he collapsed to his knees and was dimly aware of strong arms wrapping protectively around his trembling body, of a soft familiar voice whispering words of comfort and consolation. Quatre melted into the other's embrace, felt the heat of his body engulf him, and took what solace was offered as he clutched blindly at Zech's shirt and finally released his pent up grief of losing one he had held dear. It had been two years and the tears were long overdue.

"Wufei!" he sobbed and from far off the tolling of the bells of Notre Dame cathedral could be heard even from the depths of this dismal catacomb. The bells rang and rang, filling the world with their song. Tears squeezed from his eyes and Quatre pressed his face against Zech's strong chest… and remembered.

To Be Continued…