Darkness at Dawn Part 32

Dermail stood in his stirrups. "There's someone approaching very quickly."

"Call for a halt!" Howard yelled, pulling back on the reins of his mount. He patted the horse's neck affectionately. "Easy, boy," he said, staring into the distance.

They could finally make out the riders - there were two of them, one with flowing reddish hair... Dermail chuckled to himself. "All is well. It is Sylvia. Hopefully with some news, this time."

They watched as four riders galloped closer and closer, finally pulling up in a cloud of dust that several Dawnchildren present wrinkled their noses at. Sylvia walked out of the dust cloud, pulling off a set of gloves as she moved. "My lords, we've found them!"

Howard felt excitement coursing through his veins. Finally! "Where? Is it actually them?" He handed the winded rider a canteen of water.

She gave him a thankful smile before taking a swig. "A great black shroud seems to follow them, almost like a blanket of disease over the land. We didn't get too close for fear of any ill effects it might have." She laughed a little. "We found their original crossing point, but it was scorched, destroyed by fire, and only the Guardians themselves know what could have caused it. They were forced to turn south and journey far along the river. My guess is that the waters would not let them pass."

Dermail smiled. "The Elemental Lords have become strong, indeed. Scorched, you say? I'm certain young Duo will explain it when we talk to him. What do you counsel us to do, then? If the waters won't let people pass..."

Sylvia laughed, and the beginnings of a smile began to form on Howard's face. "No, I said it wouldn't let the Dark Ones pass. We, on the other hand, trotted across like it was a mere stream. I say we go straight forward."

Howard was unrolling a parchment map, and beckoned Sylvia closer. "Don't tell me they'd have to..."

She pointed. The river continues strong through the hills until they drop into the plains at Gralon Falls. Unless I'm much mistaken, the Dark Army will have to go around there to reach the Raberba."

Several men laughed and cheered at the very thought - the trip was long and difficult, through a swamp that was both unpleasant and pathless - but Dermail frowned. "Coming up from the South - they will pass through the better half of the Raberba's Kingdom to take his city, and they will kill everyone they meet on the way."

The group sobered immediately, and Howard's face became drawn with worry. "Guardians, you're right."

~*~

"Try this one - I think the colour would suit you best," Une said, tossing a gown from her wardrobe to a nervously waiting Dorothy.

The blonde Dawnchild stared down at the rich fabric in her hands. "I have nothing to offer you in return, my lady..."

"Nonsense!" the tall brunette quipped, clasping her hands together as she turned back to her visitor. "You are here to help save my home; that is payment enough. Besides, we can't have you looking anything less than perfect for your Lord Zechs, now can we?"

Dorothy paled. "How did..."

"It runs in the family, my dear," Une said dryly, plucking the garment from the Dawnchild's hands and shaking it out a little. "It will be too long on you, but that can be fixed, I think, just a few pins..."

"Is it that obvious?" Dorothy asked in a small voice.

Une gave her a hard look. "No, it isn't." She dropped the dress and sat next to the creature, staring deep into her eyes. "Stop that this instant! I don't care what Ramar might have told you your entire life, but there is no shame in choosing a person to love, none, whatsoever, be he human, Dawnchild, dwarf, whatever!"

Dorothy's eyes took on a caged look. "Get out of my head, my lady! I cannot fight you off while under Duo's restraints, and my private thoughts are my own!"

Une met her steel with steel of her own. "Fine. I will, but I have to say one thing first. Zechs has lost his home, his kingdom, his people, everything he holds dear. He's found something new to love in you. If you take it away... Well, it will be as though you destroyed the Sank Kingdom yourself. Think on that."

She stood and walked to the door. "I will send a servant to dress you for dinner." She closed the door behind her, leaving Dorothy alone and more confused than ever.

~*~

Heero looked up as a knock sounded at the door to his and Duo's room, and he turned to look at his lover, who was still re-braiding his hair. "Duo?"

The Dawnchild's eyes met his in the mirror. "Go ahead, Angel-love. It might be one of the Man'gua'nacs calling us to dinner. I'm almost ready."

"Hn," the angel grunted, his eyes lingering hungrily on Duo's hair before he stood and moved to the door. He took a deep breath and opened it -

"Well, you certainly aren't Duo Maxwell..." Four people pushed right past him on their way into the room, and Heero felt a moment of sheer confusion as they brushed past him.

Duo spun at the sound of the ugly Dawnchild's voice - he recognised it instantly - and his eyes narrowed dangerously as they strayed to where Deathscythe lay, discarded on the bed. He glared at his visitors. "I don't think you asked politely to be allowed in."

Gerald had the gumption to stop the group before they got too close to Duo. "You would have refused us, so I didn't bother. Greetings, Lord Maxwell."

Duo nodded his head, but gave them no words of greeting. "You've barged into my room - completely ignored the Guardian's Hand in the process, I might add - say what you came to tell me and leave."

Simon snorted. "You still haven't learned civility, I see. If you don't want the news we have to give, then we certainly don't need to stay any longer..."

"Hush," Heller said, one hand on Simon's arm. He took a step forward. "My Lord, you are right to distrust us. We did nothing to help you in the past, in fact, we were a damned nuisance. However don't you think that, given our past history, we would avoid you unless we had something important to do or say?"

Duo felt the silken glide of Heero's mind on his. ~Just hear them out, love. I'll throw them all out, bodily, if they are wasting our time.~ His lips quirked in a small smile, and he winked at the angel, whose eyes glinted back at him. "Very well. What could possibly have disturbed the Mad Five so desperately that they would deem it necessary to face an evil, base, loathsome individual, such as myself?"

Gerald snorted. "Mad 'Four', if you must use that terminology, lad. Jareth has chosen not to join us."

"Semantics," Heero growled, seeing how Duo fought down the clenching of his fists. "Speak plainly. Please," he added, as an afterthought.

The mushroom-headed Dawnchild turned to look at the Angel, his face lighting in a grin. "He speaks! I was wondering about it..."

Heller stopped him with a hand over his mouth, receiving a glare in return. "We came here to offer our aid and allegiance to the Raberba and to yourself, my Lord, and for no other reason."

Duo's eyes zeroed in on the Dawnchild, and Heller found himself suddenly very uncomfortable. "What makes you think I either want or need your assistance, Heller? I should think Jareth knows better, unless he is no longer quite as attached to his remaining limbs as he once was."

Simon clasped his hands together, forcing himself to relax and not to stutter. "Because our own lives are insignificant, my Lord. You are going to need all the help you can get, and we all know it. Blood weapons..."

Duo growled. "Which you tried to talk my cousin into using, you bastards..."

"We can help, Duo!" Gerald shouted. "We can help you to channel the energy you need and create weapons for your comrades such as no mortal has ever held! We can help save their lives! That is important to you, is it not?"

Duo met the older Dawnchild's eyes in a sudden quiet lull and held them. "Why then," his voice came out in a rational, calm level, "did your Jareth try and convince the Raberba to try a blood weapon before I could get here to ensure it would go properly? The last thing that could possibly help me would be a mad king to deal with - I've dealt with enough insanity of my own to last three thousand generations!"

Gerald walked forward until he could reach a shaking hand to Duo's shoulder. "We know - we know what you went through. Let us help you, Duo. Please. Allow us a chance to make things right again."

"Again?" Heero asked, confused.

Gerald turned to look at the Angel. "Towards the end of the Great War, a group of five battle mages uncovered the secrets of blood magic. We thought... we thought that we could use them to make other great warriors like your Shinigami, and in our obsession with power, we unleashed a nightmare. Madmen, running through villages, throwing themselves into fires, unable to deal with the power singing in their minds, whole families torn apart... General Shinigami was forced to turn back from a major battle to deal with the mess personally because nothing less than the power of Deathscythe could possibly counter what we had created. Our colleague, Jareth..."

Simon took up the story. "Jareth was blinded by his power and challenged Lord Duo to single combat. That he still lives today is a token that Shinigami was not the monster he could have been. Your Duo might have killed him that day, and he would have been perfectly justified in doing so."

Duo sighed and leaned on the table, staring deep into his own eyes in the mirror. "That was when I came to realise - I knew then that I was not everything that Shinigami was. I was horrified by what my power had done. Ashamed and disgusted." He turned. "What makes you think you'll do it right?"

Heero stepped closer to the four. "You will be there to control it." He turned to the four. "You must be powerful, to even begin to control that kind of power."

Duo's wide eyes focused on Heero. "You think I should trust them, Angel? You?"

Blue eyes gleamed with a promise of danger as he faced the four, who cringed in unison. "Yes. Even if they mean to cause mischief, we should be able to control it."

"We?"

Heero actually smiled. "Yes, 'we'. I'm an angel, Duo-love. While blood magic has little effect on me, I can mould it and use it as I please. I can help, as well."

Gerald hesitated, but reached out to Duo's shoulder again. "Please, my Lord. Give us this chance."

Duo regarded them all for a long moment before he nodded tightly. "Fine - though you will do nothing without my consent and supervision, is that clear?"

Four heads nodded.

Duo felt the caress of Heero's mind on his, and he smiled. "Very well. Oh, and I expect Jareth to play by the rules, as well..."

"My Lord..."

Another knock sounded on the door, and a Man'gua'nac stuck his head in politely. "My Lords, the banquet is starting."

Duo smiled at the thought and grabbed Heero by the arm, dragging him towards the door. "Well, then! Show us the way, if you please!"

The Mad Four were left staring at each other. Orin said what was on everyone's mind. "We'd best find Jareth, and quickly."

The other three nodded, and they left the room in a hurry.

~*~

Lady Relena trembled as she followed Hilde towards the banquet hall. She hadn't even noticed the others when they arrived - her eyes had been solely focused on her brother, her mind fixated on what he had to think of her. But this time...

She was vaguely aware of Hilde at her side as they entered the room, gripping her elbow firmly as her legs threatened to give out beneath her. "Steady, Relena. Try and remain calm."

She felt it, though. As one who had been toyed with by a creature as powerful as Ramar, she couldn't mistake the power singing in the lively hall, nor could she deny how the seven men at the main table were its beating heart. She faltered -

Two sets of eyes swept up, one piercing blue, the other violet. They were locked on her, and it was suddenly not so difficult to move or to breathe. Violet eyes gleamed in sudden pleasure.

Hilde practically carried her to the front table, where both ladies gave deep curtsies. Quatre stood to introduce them. "My friends, these ladies are..."

"Relena of Sank and Hilde of Jirol," Heero whispered, and both women moved to look at him -

Heero was wearing white and looked quite comfortable in it, the form-fitting clothes managing to look both elegant and masculine at the same time. He wasn't smiling, but the gleam of his eyes was more than enough to make both ladies' hearts flutter momentarily. He nodded to them. "I am Heero Yuy."

Relena managed a nod and a small smile as he began pointing out the other members of the group. "These are Trowa Barton, sitting next to Lord Quatre, his brother, Treize Kushrenada, Captain Chang, whom I'm sure you remember, you know Dorothy, as well, Lucas is the Dawnchild sitting with Lady Une, and last, but not least," his hand strayed to the shoulder of the brown-haired creature next to him. "This is Duo Maxwell."

She sucked in a deep breath as their eyes met. This was the one - she could feel power pouring off of him in waves, and yet it was such a different power from Ramar's, cleaner, saner, more wholesome... Just thinking about Ramar, though, she began to hyperventilate...

He smiled, and she found it hard to remember what she'd been thinking of just then. His smile was as warm as a summer day and as soothing as cool water, and she felt her own smile unfolding completely, in a way it hadn't for months, if ever.

Both ladies gaped as Zechs motioned to the two empty places next to him with a smile. "Please, join us. We've been waiting on you."

Relena hung back a little, her steps faltering. "I hadn't thought I'd..."

Her brother took her hand gently and pulled her to his side. "Never forget who you are, Relena. You've made mistakes, yes, grievous ones. But you are a princess, and you have been very brave and strong. If anyone wants to say a word to you, they will have to go past me first."

She blushed as she took her seat, looking down on the hall before her. Her eyes widened - she hadn't realised there were so many camped out in Sandrock, but this was surely a great army...

Captain Chang and the man next to him - she vaguely remembered his name as Treize - both nodded to her, and the taller man gave her a small sitting bow. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady, though once I would never have thought to say so. Please, how was Jirol, when you left?"

She forced herself not to cry! "It still stands, my Lord, and in time it will heal. The people are undoubtedly glad that I disappeared."

The ginger-haired man leaned back in his seat, his eyes narrowing in thought. "No, I should think they are remembering your rule fondly right about now, Lady. You have always had a heart, however misled it was. Ramar never had."

She flinched at the man's name, and Zechs' attention was suddenly squarely on her. "Sister, you look cold. Here- you should have some wine..."

She sipped at it slowly, her eyes still darting to the Angel and the Dawnchild at the very heart of the group, until Wufei leaned closer and spoke over the din of the hall. "You seem puzzled, Lady."

She frowned. "From all I heard of him, I expected something much different in Shinigami."

He shook his head. "I don't doubt it. He does not look to be a warrior at first glance, does he?"

"No." Her eyes fell to her plate. But I can feel his power, and I fear him.

~*~

Simon was very uneasy as the four Dawnchildren made their way into the heart of Lord Quatre's armoury. He had somehow known that they would find Jareth here, at the forge, and he had no great wish to see how Lord Maxwell would react to it. He stepped forward, forcing his disquiet down. "Jareth, please tell us you're not doing what I think you're doing."

The long-haired creature looked up, a strange gleam in his glassy eyes. "Of course I am, you dolt! Look at you all!" he hissed, eyes narrow. "Bowing and scraping before a mere boy! You make me sick, all of you!"

Orin's deep voice rumbled out over the roar of the armoury fires. "That same boy bested you in open combat, fool! Step away from the fire!"

Jareth simply raised an object out of the fire, though, and all four felt a jolt of alarm passing through them as they watched - the ritual was already more than half over! Fire danced over the sword in his hand, glittering coldly, as though bathed in the angry scorn of its bearer. "I'm afraid I can't, old friend. For better or for worse, I've made my move. If Little Duo doesn't like it, he will have to make his now."

With a sinister cackle of laughter, sparks shot up to the roof and bathed the room in red.

~*~

Seven heads came up in unison, back in the banquet hall.

Noin trembled as she felt a wave of uneasiness pass through the company, and looked to her brother in concern.

"Lady? Noin?"

She was abruptly aware of her guardsman, Abdul, and she blinked awkwardly. "Abdul?"

Concern glowed in dark eyes. "What is the matter?"

Noin's eyes tracked her brother and his companions as they all stood and moved towards the door as one. "I do not know, but it can't be good." She turned back to him. "Go with them? Please?"

Abdul felt a rush of warmth and could not help the light squeeze he gave her fingers. "Of course, Noin. All will be well, I'm sure."

Her fingers tightened, as well. "Thank you."

~*~

Quatre led the way with a single-minded determination. "It isn't much farther," he said over his shoulder, as he threw the armoury door open and pushed inside -

He was surprised when one of his soldiers pushed in with him, shielding him with his body as they pressed forward.

Duo smiled grimly as he followed, close on their heels. "Noin is worried, I take it?"

Abdul nodded, grabbing a bow and quiver from a nearby stall as he moved. "I would not see her so distressed."

"I imagine not," Trowa said, meeting the young guard's eyes and giving him a small nod.

All conversation was cut short, though, as Duo pushed past them and threw the last door open, his anger making the very air around him crackle with energy.

The fires in the room nearly went out. Violet eyes glittered in hatred as they took in the frightened looks on the other four Dawnchildren's faces and the dark satisfaction in Jareth's eyes. "Put the sword down, Jareth, and I might not decide to finish what I left undone."

Jareth laughed. "Put it down? On the contrary, I have been waiting for you. So predictable, Little Duo!"

Heero pushed past the braided Dawnchild, Quatre at his side. "You don't know what you're doing. He is quite serious, I assure you."

The evil smile on Jareth's lips twisted into an unholy grin. "So am I." He gave a loud and sudden war cry as he swung the blade in his hand. The angel had no time, and all he could do was cry out as the heated blade sliced his chest. He was vaguely aware of Duo's scream -

The fire around the sword exploded with blue-hot intensity, and he stumbled backwards into Duo's outstretched arms, knocking them both aside as Quatre darted forward and struck Jareth so hard that the Dawnchild was thrown backwards, the sword clattering out of his hand. Stooping without thinking about it, Quatre's finger's curled around the hilt, even as Trowa screamed behind him, "Quatre, no! Don't touch it!"

The world seemed to turn white around him, though, and Quatre could not hear a sound as the sword in his hand began to sing with power, a tingle spreading up his arm and through his body in what was first a pleasant tingle, but soon translated into something so acute it was stinging painful. Still, he could not pry his fingers loose, and was not aware of the whimper coming past his lips as he began to tremble.

"Quatre, drop it, please..." Trowa rushed forward, and snarled as strong arms wound about him. "Release me! Let me go, Duo!"

Duo's arms tightened around him, though, as he watched Heero dart forward to the blond man's side. "I will not - That sword is tainted with an Angel's blood, Trowa-friend. We cannot touch it..."

"RELEASE ME!" Trowa gave a powerful heave of his arms, surprising his friend enough to break free. He darted forward and reached out to his lover.

Quatre snarled angrily, the only thing registering in his tortured mind being another body rushing at him, and he turned, swinging the sword in his hands at Trowa's unprotected body.

"Heero!" The angel looked up just in time to catch Deathscythe as it flew at him, and he spun with it in his hands, ducking between the blond King and his half-breed victim. The swords collided with a clang that reverberated through the room, power on power.

Heero knew he had little time before Deathscythe's song forced its way past his defences - he attacked Quatre openly, forcing him to retreat. "Come back to us, Quatre! Listen to me! Hear me!"

~*~

Jareth edged past the group carefully - he had a chance of escape while Duo and his companions were distracted by the ongoing fight, and he knew he was a dead man, other wise. Smirking slightly, he made for the doorway.

Heller snarled as he threw himself in the way. "Where do you think you're going, traitor?!"

"Get out of the way!" Jareth lifted one hand, as though to strike his long-time friend -

A cold hand curled about his wrist, though, and he found himself trembling as he stared into the angry eyes of one Treize Kushrenada. "I think not."

~*~

Trembling with the effort of holding the demon sword, Heero finally saw an opening and went for it, slapping Quatre's wrist with the flat of Deathscythe and knocking the blade aside. He immediately dropped Deathscythe and reached out, pulling the slim blond into his arms as the young man began trembling.

The white glare that had been blinding Quatre's senses disappeared almost immediately, and sounds came rushing in on him. Treize struggling with Jareth, Heero's heavy breathing, and a whimpering sound...

Dread spread over him as his eyes focused on a slim, green-eyed young man, cradled in Duo's arms. "Oh, Guardians! Trowa..." He crawled closer - his lover had a long gash on his side that he knew he must have inflicted. He threw his head back in anguish. "Trowa!"

"Abdul, please..." He turned to the Man'gua'nac, his eyes pleading...

The young man simply nodded to him and turned to run from the room.

Heero's fingers curled abound the blade Quatre had dropped. The metal had been burned a pure, gleaming white, and it was light as a feather in his hands. Light as a Wing, and soft as a breeze on my mind...

"Heero." His attention was torn back to the present, and he looked over to where Treize stood, Jareth dangling from his clenched fists. "Are you well enough to deal with this traitor?"

He nodded, his grip on Wing tightening. Wing - that is a good name. He approached the Dawnchild slowly, deliberately. "You... you caused us great harm. You used my power against us all. And Trowa..." He refused to say it out loud - it was the last thing Quatre needed to hear, and yet it was certain, unless Abdul could bring Sally and Noin back with him immediately. "Speak."

Jareth twisted in Treize's grasp, trying in vain to get free. "To what purpose? It is hardly my fault your dolt of a King decided to leap into the fray..."

"This was not your decision to make!" Heero bellowed, lifting the sword, his blue eyes glowing brightly in his face. Wing whistled on the air -

Treize held Jareth up as he screamed in pain, eyes bulging as Wing's song filled his mind and tore it apart, white-hot energy that simply burned.

The body fell from Treize's grip, eyes wide and unseeing.

~*~

Trowa's eyes opened slowly, and he blinked hard. What happened? He was being cradled against a warm body, and he felt comfortable, despite the knowledge that something had to be wrong. And what was Lady Sally doing, hovering over him so? "What..."

"Shhh," the Mother Healer soothed, brushing his hair back gently. "Thank the Guardians, he's awake."

"Trowa!" His head lolled back against the shoulder of whoever was holding him, and he smiled, seeing concerned aquamarine eyes staring down at him guiltily. "I am so, so sorry, Tro..."

"Quatre, hush." He reached up and pulled the blond down for a hug.

Holding each other tightly, both men let their tears fall openly.

TBC...

 

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