Dragonheart Part 9

Heero pulled clean bedding from a cedar chest and made up his bed. He didn't bother to perfectly tuck in the corners or situate the comforter so that the stripes were straight. All he wanted was a reasonably decent place to lay his head, one that was not on the cold ground or a home for bedbugs.

He was grateful for a roof over his head and shelter from the damp night air. He did miss gazing at the stars or hearing an owl hoot or the haunting howl of a wolf. Summer would soon warm the night and Heero promised himself that he would again sleep under the stars but this time in his own garden.

Stripping down to his breechcloth Heero eased his travel-weary body between the bottom sheet and the downy duvet. He blew on the lamp welcoming the soothing darkness.

Plumping up the goose down pillow Heero decided that tomorrow's first order of business would be a bath and washing his gritty hair. The second task would be a shamefully hardy breakfast--Anna was right he could put on a few pounds--then perhaps he would be fortified to deal with his father.

If Odin either would not or could not handle the household then Heero felt duty bound to see to his birthright. The desire to manage the property was not only for Heero's sake but also for the other people who relied on the Yuy family for their daily sustenance. Anna had been widowed for years and had no place else to go. Likewise most of the fieldworkers had no other skills but tending the land.

Although the servants and laborers' meager wages did little to improve their underprivileged conditions Heero knew that they lived in much better circumstances than people roaming the streets did. At least they were not forced to beg or steal or sell their bodies to eat.

Heero knew that there was more at stake than guarding his heritage. With his privileged life came responsibilities and he would not fail those who trusted him for their care. But for tonight Heero would push aside everything troubling and hoped for peaceful sleep. Perhaps he was even too tried for the nightmares to invade his slumber. With a relaxing sigh he closed his eyes.

Just before he drifted off a pleasant remembrance settled into his mind. His last thought as he slipped further into that shadowy realm called sleep was of violet eyes and braided hair and a smile that melted his heart.

"Duo." he breathed out the enchanting name as sleep made its final claim for the night.

*********

Heero was up as soon as the cock crowed. By the time the sunrise had turned from pink to golden he had given Wing his breakfast, build a fire under the bathtub, filled it and was settled beneath the warming water. As the bath soothed his sore muscles and lifted his spirits he mind returned to thoughts of Duo.

Memories of bathing in the hot spring, of washing each other's hair came back with a bittersweet recalling. As he dried off and dressed in fresh clothing Heero remembered his first sight of the beautiful braided man. A secret smile bloomed on his lips as further recollections of drying by the fireplace and a simple meal shared with good company played across his mind.

Suddenly a shiver fluttered over the memories. His initial introduction to Shinigami caused his heart to hammer if only for a moment. Then as quickly as his nerves were put on edge the peacefulness of his and Duo's last night together replaced the foreboding.

Heero plainly heard the stories of sea creatures and fish people as clearly as if Duo was by his side. His fingertips felt the phantom sensation of Duo's hair and dragon scales. His eyes saw ghostly imagines mingling with the morning haze of Duo kneeling in prayer haloed in glowing candlelight. Tears stung his eyes and a raw ache stabbed at his heart. Heero missed his friend and he missed Shinigami.

But most of all Heero longed for a simpler life. He yearned for the Gypsies' freedom, the carefree existence of being unbound by daily responsibility. He wanted to know the claim of kinship...his father's unconditional acceptance. And, even though Quatre and Trowa's relationship was atypical, at least they had an endearing devotion and security of the heart.

Giving into his unbearable solitude Heero wept unashamedly. Wiping away the salty moisture tracking down his cheeks Heero swore an oath that he would send for Duo before the next full moon. Bringing the Dragon Keeper into the house would be easy enough but special quarters would have to be arranged for his dragon. A suitable cave would have to be found because Heero knew that Duo would never leave his faithful Shinigami.

Heero would not worry about his father's reaction or even seek his approval. He was no longer a frightened ten-year-old or a young man dependent on his father's praise to fix his place in life. Heero Yuy was a soldier; a Captain tested in battle. He had discovered that he was self-determined with his own brand of courage to guide him in what was right.

"A few more weeks." Heero sighed as he pulled his shoulder-length hair into a loose ponytail. Then he and Duo would never be apart again.

*********

The remainder of the morning was spent riding over the fields. Heero needed to get an idea of the state of the property. He talked with the field hands, visited the servant's quarters, although there were few people to see. It seemed that his father had indeed either chased off or dismissed most of the help. It didn't take long for Heero to realize that, had he not returned when he did, that there would not have been much to come home to.

Since his father had ridden out after breakfast, assuming he could stomach anything with his hangover, Heero had been unobstructed in his investigative explorations. Equally so sharing lunch with Anna in the kitchen was a pleasant experience. But Heero did not try to hide his upset over the deterioration of the estate or the decay of his and his father's relationship.

Anna offered what advice that she could. "Your father is hurting as much as you are."

"He has a strange way of showing it." Heero replied with a snort of disgust.

Anna placed her hand on Heero's, "He didn't take to serious drinking until you left. Now don't blame yourself," she added before Heero got the idea that it was his fault. "Your father is a proud man and his pride won't let him show his true feelings. I know that it will be hard but you have to try to find some common ground."

She squeezed Heero's hand. "I know that you are hurting, too, but do it for your father's sake.

Heero nodded. He had realized after he and Odin's tense encounter that he couldn't talk to him when Odin was drinking. Unfortunately the bottle had become a constant companion. In fact his father was probably at the tavern right then attempting to drown his damnable pride.

It was a good thing that Odin's horse knew his way back because Heero had no desire to go into town and fetch his father. There had been far too many time in the past when Heero had been sent to bring his father back, too many times that he had suffered public humiliation from both Odin's insults or his free-flying hands.

No, the sodden old man would have to find his own way home. In spite of Anna's wishes that Heero and his father reconcile there could be no discussion while his father was drunk and finding a sober time was going to be even more difficult. But Heero would make the effort for Anna.

In the morning Heero would make sure that he was up before Odin, before he had his liquid breakfast. Perhaps they could have a civil conversation if not completely see eye to eye. It would be a start then Heero would see how things went from there.

"I will try." was all that Heero could promise his kind-hearted Anna.

*********

Midday stretched into evening and evening into twilight and Odin had not returned. Heero was certain had anything bad happened that someone would have come from town. His father would come in his own good time and it was just as well because Heero was not in the mood for any confrontation that night.

Heero ate his supper alone, he needed to think. There had to be some way to reach his father, some tactical maneuver keep the bottle at bay. Again he wished that Duo was with him. He needed his friend's wisdom to show him the solution.

Duo made Heero believe in dragons and faith in himself. Raising from his half-eaten meal Heero went to the window. Gazing at the sunset glow along the horizon he wondered if Duo was watching the same sunset? Would he and Shinigami see the same stars twinkling silently in the heavens and would Duo miss the Captain that had come and gone so quickly in his life?

"Duo say a prayer for me." He whispered as his finger traced the reflection of starlight on the wavy windowpane.

*********

Thin shafts of moonlight pierced the concealing covering of night. White mist crept in a stealthy hush inundating the courtyard with the frosty floating vapors. The house was shut up tight against the brittle chill as nothing in nature or man's domain wished to bare itself to the stark cold.

The besieging darkness clung to the curtains drawn across Heero's bedchamber's windows. Perhaps the thick material could dissuade the hovering chill and allow the comforting shadows to embraced the soldier tangled in his bedcovers.

Heero had finally surrendered to a sturdy sleep but now the mind-numbing slumber had run its course and a certain brand of restless dreaming had begun to tread across his mind. Rambling sights and sounds jumbled into a disunited clamor. Incoherent bits of memory flickered among the scattered traces to offer an altered perception. Reality and dread-laced recollections snarled until no clear path to waking up could be found.

This unraveling of Heero's frayed composure permitted repressed emotions, that had been held at bay by his conscious will, to come rushing headlong through the ragged tears in his mental fabric. Heero thrashed about helplessly as a frightening dreamscape encompassed his terror-struck mind.

Eerie visages flared over his inner sight. The unexpected apparitional appearing jolted his defenseless senses. A sharp pain stabbed in his chest. Flashes of brilliant white light seared into his mind's eye bringing on scorched blindness. The blinding light flashed again. This time Heero could see that the glint was off of his sword. Visions of an enemy soldier doubled over, blood spilling through his finger as they clutched the mortal wound in his chest, returned with a vengeance.

Then in slow motion the solder's bloody body crumbled into the Crescent River's churning currents. Buffeting wind slapped in a stinging spray against Heero's face as the bested foe's form was swallowed up in the crimson mist rising from the water.

Every muscle coiled in fright then Heero's entire body jerked as the spiraled tension sprung loose with a terrible joint-wrenching distention. Heero's eyes flew open with a start. His alarm-constricted lungs refused any cooperation in his panicked battle to breathe. Sweat beaded on his face, the salty moisture glistened over every inch of his almost nude body.

Even the goose down coverlet could not shut out the chill as fear's icy tentacles encircled Heero clawing their way up his spine until their flesh freezing touch shivered through his brain. Running a quivering hand over his wet face Heero tried to ease the throbbing in his head, to uncoil the knot in his gut. With a forceful sigh he tried to slow the labored breaths pounding in his lungs.

Heero closed his eyes but carefully guarded his mind against any intrusive memories. With the aide of another hard puff, Heero slowly opened his eyes successfully vanquishing the solder's persistent reappearing.

Getting shakily to his feet he pulled his wrinkled trousers over his breechcloth then dug through the clothes piled by the bed until an equally wrinkled shirt was freed from the heap. Filling a washbowl with cold water leftover from the day before Heero braved the frigid liquid as he attempted to regain at least a degree of control. Splashing his face once more he smoothed back his heavy hair tucking the damp, tangled tresses behind his ears.

Drawing back the curtains Heero wondered if the war dreams would ever leave him alone. Gazing blankly at the star-studded horizon he fought off the urge to weep because he was afraid that if he did begin to cry that he might not be able to stop.

He pulled on his boots. There would be no need to return to bed, many other nights of dark dreaming had taught him well. "No more sleep." he sighed as he granted the nightmare demons another victory.

*********

Standing by the window Heero debated whether to get his cape and take a walk in the garden. Perhaps the fresh air would clear his mind and help him refocus his thoughts.

A muted banging like a hammer against wood drew Heero's attention from his contemplation. He stood still and listened, the mysterious noise repeated. Opening his door he peered into the dim hall. The bumping was more pronounced and now he was given a clear clue...his father's room.

No sound answered Heero's insistence knock on bedroom's door. A second pounding on the thick wood produced no change in the silence. Trying the door he found it unlocked. Cold currents raced through the room. The overpowering stench of old wine, combined with several other unidentifiable odors, hit Heero's nostrils with stomach-churning force.

He stood in the doorframe shocked at the disarray. There was not one inch that had escaped what appeared to be a whirlwind of filth. The room's contents were scattered, thrown about in a haphazard confusion. Broken pottery and bottles littered the floor. Clothing and bedding were draped or snagged over what furnishings were still intact. Each protrusion on the walls including the dark lamps was also "decorated" in the same shattered disorder.

As upset as Heero was with the obvious evidence that Odin had had a drunken fit and taken his liquor-induced rage out on his quarters and possessions, the fact that his father was no where in sight put Heero into a panic. The thought that his father had finally given into his despair and jumped from the second story's lofty heights threatened to stop Heero's heart.

As the wind flapped the curtains like fitful dragon wings, Heero ran to the opened window. Dreading what he might find, Heero forced himself to lean between the flapping shudders.

The window was set in the wall at least fifty feet above a patch of ground that was thickly outcropped with large stones and slate ridges. A fall from such heights would surely be fatal and the damage the weather-chiseled rocks could inflict would leave a body so mangled that it would be impossible to salvage it intact.

The sight of his father's twisted frame, bloodied and broken and mingled among the jagged terrain was something that Heero knew he could not bare but he had to look...he had no choice.

Wind battered his face, stole his breath. Heero braced his hands on the sill and directed his sight to the rocky ground below. In the pre-dawn haze Heero could see nothing but indistinct outlines. Like a gauzy shroud white mist refused to give Heero a clear picture.

"Father." Heero whispered through his dry throat. "FATHER!" he screamed but only the howling wind and the curtain's sharp snap answered his panicked plea.

A low moan was barely audible above the mournful wail whistling through the room. Heero grabbed the shivering shutters and with some exertion closed and bolted them then in the resulting silence listened for some sign that his hearing was not playing tricks on him.

Heero's peripheral vision picked up movement to his right. Hurriedly rounding the bed he half-tripped over all matter of debris. Clumsily he caught hold of a bedpost to avoid falling as his boots became entangled in the mess underfoot.

Odin lay in the cramped confines between the bed and the wall. In order to fit within the restrictive margins he had curled into a fetal posture, knees bent to his chest and his head tucked under his arm. Draped over his naked body the bed's night curtain's flimsy material provided no protection from the chill that penetrated the room.

Heero anxiously knelt down and lifted the shredded curtain. The sight that met his eyes caused him to suck in an alarmed gulp of air. Odin's face was gray, his lips were blue. From the odd contour of his father's body Heero couldn't tell if the frail form was breathing.

His hand trembled with hesitation as he touched Odin's clammy chest. A sigh of relief followed as he discovered a heartbeat. "Father." Heero called taking Odin's shoulder and giving it a firm shake. "Father wake up." He shook harder.

Lethargic motion was accompanied by a hiss of incoherent murmuring as Odin sluggishly reacted to his son's prodding. Heero braced a knee on the floor and secured his hold on the languorous man in hopes of extracting him from his wedged position. Of course it would have been too much for Heero to expect his sloshed father to cooperate.

Heero strained until he finally rotated the stubbornly curled figure then, backtracking, he dragged Odin passed the bed into a less unencumbered area. A least two empty bottles clinked together then parted as one rolled under the bed while its partner became caught in the tangled curtain and was hauled out with Odin.

"Dammit you are like ice." Heero observed as he detangled the curtain from its ensnaring embrace.

Heero knelt by Odin easing his stiff body into a straighter line. The longer alignment revealed a partly full bottle tucked in the crook of Odin's arm like a mother shielding a child. With exasperated effort Heero tried to pry the bottle free. It shifted in the loosened grip spilling some of its contents over Odin's already chill flesh. More curse-accented mumbling filtered from Odin's lips along with a goodly amount of foul smelling drool.

Heero breathed out a heartsick sigh at the pitiful person lying before him. "Oh father what have you done to yourself?" he whispered as he fought back the tears of regret.

"It didn't have to be this way." he stated as he moped back stringing hair from Odin's dull sight. Looking down into that glassy, faraway, stare Heero knew he would received no response to any calling or shaking or pleading.

With absolute certainty Heero knew that there would be no forthcoming conversation, no confession or cleansing of the soul. He also knew that no forgiveness from either man or a higher deity would make things right between him and his father.

Lord Odin was now beyond physical pain and mental torment. The abuse of drink and his unrelenting anger had eroded his sanity. Odin was now content to dwell in his personally constructed prison, content to stay sheltered in wine's abyss where his simplest perceptions floated somewhere between reality and phantom nightmares. Yes, it seemed that Sir Odin Yuy was quite satisfied with his self-imposed punishment.

Struggling under his father's dead weight Heero lifted his limp body. As Odin's head lopped to one side Heero staggered around and laid the rag doll form on rumpled bed. Odin neither responded nor did his glazed eyes follow as Heero tugged up what remained of the sheet and coverlet to cover Lord Odin's shameless nudity.

Helpless and hopeless Heero sat on the bed watching his father slobber and listening to the deranged mutterings of a brew-produced lunatic. Heero had no more strength to wash his father or dress him in a fresh nightshirt. He had no reserves to battle the overwhelming guilt that kept demanding there must have something that he could have done to save his father.

"You damn fool." Heero hissed under his breath. The chastisement was aimed at his father and himself. Completely drained from lack of sleep and the stress of watching his father sink further into oblivion Heero curled up on the end of the bed and gave into his despondency.

Somewhere in the courtyard a rooster crowed. Pink shafts of dawn streaked through the shutters on two figures who were, each in their own way, lost and alone.

TBC...

 

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