Innocence Reclaimed Part 25
The young blonde jumped as strong arms encircled him. "What makes you look so depressed, little one?" A gentle voice breathed in his ear.
"Trowa," He murmured turning in his lover's arms. "Nothing at all," He smiled brightly. "Have the others arrived yet?"
"Aye, Meia and Kyle just got here and they say that Heero and Duo are not far behind." The brunette replied kissing Quatre gently.
"Go ahead back down; I'll be down shortly."
"Don't be too long... they might start without you." Trowa teased as he stepped back.
As the slim brunette left their room the blonde turned back to the window and looked out over the courtyard. Why can't I shake this feeling of foreboding, he wondered silently. Ever since they had planned for all of them to meet today, to celebrate Kyle and Meia Peacecraft's first year together, he hadn't been able to get rid of the sense that something bad would happen. Something unfinished in their past was lurking in the shadows, waiting for its moment to strike. I'm glad that Bryce and Wynne are fostering at Lord Peacecraft's estate.
Shaking his head he stood and looked around the room that he shared with the Baron, memories of the life they had lived together flowing through his mind. Then he closed the shutters on the window and putting his worries aside, headed down to the main hall.
Who would have believed it? The idea had never crossed the minds of any of them in the room. The thought was inconceivable.
But... here they were...
In the silence of the main hall, Quatre felt Trowa's hand grip his under the table and his blue eyes scanned the faces of his friends. Heero was standing, his chair overturned, eyes glittering in rage and one hand on the hilt of his sword. Duo's face was unreadable as he slowly stood behind his lover and drew his own dagger, his intent clear. No matter what, he'd fight beside the Baron. Kyle's own hand rested on his blade as the other gripped his young wife's fingers, he too also ready to spring to the defense of his family.
Meia... was as pale as a ghost, she leaned on the table, one hand clutching her husband's, her long fiery hair falling in stark contrast to the cream colored gown she wore over her slim shoulders. Something dark and deadly glimmered in the brilliant blue depths of her eyes and Quatre found himself wondering if the young woman was armed herself.
Before them, at the main entrance, a literal army of soldiers had spilled into the keep, all bearing the crest of the former Baron. Somehow... over the years... without alerting anyone, Baron Khushrenada's widow had managed to raise this army to go against the men responsible for the death of her husband.
They were six against all those men. He knew in his sinking heart that there wasn't much chance for them to escape... and that Heero would never run. As Trowa released his hand and started to stand, Heero let out a roar of rage and sprang forward, his sword cutting down the nearest soldier.
Then everything exploded around him. Trowa dragged him from his chair and shoved him in Meia's direction, shouting for him to protect her as he and Kyle rushed ahead to aid Heero and Duo. As he grabbed the girl and pulled her out of the way, his ears were filled with the sound of clanging swords as a group of soldiers surrounded the four.
Meia let out a scream and drew her dagger, breaking from his grasp and ran towards where she had last seen Kyle. All he could do was seize an old sword from the wall and follow her. Glancing at the hilt, he realized with bitterness that it was the weapon his own father had carried, before he turned against the warring ways of the old Baron.
It's fitting I should die using the blade that my father died giving up, he though angrily as he swung at the nearest soldier, shuddering as he felt edge tear through flesh and bone and the scent of blood filled his nose.
He couldn't make sense of the chaos around him as he fought desperately to get to his friends. He didn't have the warrior's strength that Trowa had and he could feel his energy draining with each desperate swing. His body ached... daggers of agony shot through his chest with each breath as he raised his sword to meet the next person. As he turned, his eyes fell on a still form not far away and he was overcome with the realization that this was futile. There was no way to win.
They had all been cut down.
"Trowa..." He whispered in despair as he spotted the form of his lover, lying face down in his own blood, his hand still clutching his blade, as if determined to continue fighting, even in death. Letting out an angry cry, he cut down the warrior in front of him, his only thought... to die beside the one he held most dear.
A searing pain ripped through his side and then his body went numb as he fell to his hands and knees, gasping for air. Somewhere behind him, he heard a scream as he saw his bright blood forming a crimson pool, on the floor, beneath his hands. Struggling to take a breath, he felt his lungs rebel, filling with his own blood.
With a last great effort, he lunged to his feet and stumbled forward. Another dull blow landed on his body, now beyond pain, and he fell forward, his hand outstretched. He felt nothing as he landed on the cold stones, nothing except the touch of his fingers against those of his lover's.
Through the haze of his death he saw Meia kneel beside him, her hair was tangled, the ivory of her gown stained red with blood. Whose he didn't know. She reached out and touched his cheek, her bright blue eyes dry in their grief and rage. The only parents she had ever known lay just a short distance away, one cut down as he had tried to protect the other.
"Uncle," She whispered, her voice cracking with grief. "I swear... we'll all be together again."
She stood, spreading her arms, crying out words in a language he did not understand but at the same time, it echoed through his head.
"Soul to soul... heart to heart... life to life... through incarnations to come these lovers shall be reborn... until they meet, remember, and love again, shall the pattern repeat itself. As it is said... it will be done..."
"Meia... no... do-" His words broke off as his blood flooded his throat.
"Stop her!" Someone yelled.
The last thing he saw before his breath left him was the girl fall beside him, her eyes meeting his as the red of her hair mingled with the red of her blood.
The faintest of smile graced her lips.
"Why are you doing this?" He whispered his voice shaking as he was pushed back against the hard wall. He shuddered as firm hands slid up his sides and gripped his shoulders and he felt the muscled form of another pressed against his.
"Better me than to let that bastard put his hands on you!" A low voice spat angrily. "If I have you first, then he'll have no claim over you."
The young man gasped, his shocked sapphire eyes staring widely into the dim room as the speaker lowered his head to taste the skin of his neck. "But... he says he cares for me..." There was a rustling sound and his shoulders were bared to the cool air of the room.
"You're too naïve, Quatre. He says that to anyone who catches his eye."
"I don't want to do this," He pushed at the hard chest before him. "I don't want this!"
He was pulled away from the wall and dragged to the narrow bed resting against the other wall. With a startled sound he lost his balance and fell back. "Please... I don't want this... not with you!" He cried as a heavy weight settled itself on him.
The other raised his head and his cobalt eyes glittered in the room. "What? You want him? The one who lords it over all of us? He chooses who he wants and then takes them and when he tires of them he discards them like yesterday's trash!! And you still say you want him?"
"But what about Duo?" The young blonde murmured. "You told me that you loved him."
"You and I grew up together; Duo is just someone who drifted into the village! You are the one I have to protect!"
Strong hands pinned him down as he struggled, his face paling. "No! Heero!"
The pair turned to see the slim form of a young chestnut haired man standing in the doorway, his violet eyes wide with horror.
"Duo!" Quatre gasped, horror creeping through his icy limbs.
The violet eyed man just stood silently in the doorway and stared at them, his eyes wide. Then with a strangled sound he wheeled around and fled the building. Quatre took advantage of Heero being off guard and shoved him away, rolling out from underneath him.
"What you say... it's not the truth." He said quietly, standing in the floor, his hands clenched into fists. "I know him... I know the man that is Trowa Barton... he'd never do such a thing!!"
"He'll use you Quatre."
"Like you did Duo?"
Heero flinched at the hatred in the blonde's voice. "Quatre..." He started reaching for the boy.
"Don't touch me!!" Quatre cried as he wheeled and fled from the person who had been his best friend for all his life.
As he ran, he felt his heart breaking. He chooses who he wants and then takes them and when he tires of them he discards them like yesterday's trash!! "No... he doesn't!!" The blonde cried out as his steps led him towards the cliffs overlooking the sea.
As he reached the edge of the cliffs he fell to his knees, his sobs carried away by the wind that whipped his hair around his pale face. "I know he doesn't!"
"Doesn't what? Quatre, are you alright?" A gentle voice spoke behind him.
He looked over his shoulder and with a cry flew to the arms of the slim brunette standing behind him. Burying his face against his chest, his body was wracked with sobs.
"Little one," Trowa lifted his chin. "What's happened? What's wrong?"
The man's green eyes narrowed, "What did he do?" He asked icily as his eyes took in the bruises that were forming on the boy's wrists.
"Step away from him Barton!"
Trowa turned, pushing Quatre behind him, to face Heero. "What have you done to him?" He growled with barely suppressed anger.
"Made him see the truth of what goes on around here! Let him go Barton!"
"You're not getting near him again," Came the even reply as his hand found his sword.
"Nooo," Quatre whispered as Heero let out an angry yell and rushed forward, dagger in hand.
Everything moved so swiftly that Quatre wasn't even too sure of what had happened until it was too late. Trowa had pulled his sword to meet Heero and in the next second an agonized cry echoed around them. With a look of horror the blonde stepped backwards, his mind refusing to believe the scene before him. A few feet away, Heero was picking himself up off the ground, blood seeping from the wound in his shoulder. Before him, Trowa knelt, his head down and his shoulders slumped forward. Beside him his blade lay in the grass, its surface stained with the blood of Duo Maxwell.
The chestnut haired boy had stepped in between then to try and stop their fight, only to be cut down himself.
Trowa looked up his own horrified eyes meeting Quatre's. "I-I... h-he..."
"Quatre," Heero took a step forward.
"No!" The blonde shook his head violently.
"Quatre!" Trowa suddenly cried, jumping to his feet.
But he was too late. Too late to stop the ground from crumbling underneath the blonde's feet. Too late to reach him before he slipped over the edge of the cliffs, dropping silently into the sea below.
Too late to save to one person he had truly loved.
And for that... he would never forgive Heero Yuy for his interference...
"Milord?" A small voice echoed from the doorway.
Quatre looked up from his studying to see a young auburn haired girl standing with her head down. "What is it Catherine?"
"Have you seen my brother?" She replied, risking a glance up, her lavender eyes filled with worry.
"Trowa?" He closed the book and stood. "No, I have not."
"I've looked for him all day. He was upset when he went to bed last night and this morning he was gone."
Quatre's heart lurched at her words. Your father will never allow... I can't go on like this... its best if I were to go. "Don't worry, I'll look for him." He smiled gently at her before he started past.
"Milord," She grabbed his sleeve. "Excuse me for being forward."
"Nonsense," He turned back to her. "You know that I care for your brother and you."
"That's what worries me," She murmured as she watched his disappear down the hallway. If his father finds out... he'll kill them.
Quatre searched through the huge manor house until he reached the upper level of the house. Stepping into one of the unused rooms, he walked across and opened the doors to the balcony.
"What are you doing out here?" He asked softly as the brunette glanced up at him.
"About what?" Quatre asked as he sat on the stone floor beside him.
"You... me... us... everything." The young man said quietly.
The blonde smiled and leaned over to place a quick kiss on Trowa's lips. "You think too much."
"And sometimes you don't think enough!" Trowa replied with a sigh. "It's bad enough when the young lord of the house gets involved with a servant, Quatre. That there is enough to infuriate your father beyond reason. It's even worse that I'm a man. How do you think he's going to react to you being involved with a male servant?"
Quatre frowned and leaned his head on Trowa's shoulder. "We'll figure it out. I've already told you that I don't care if he strips me of my inheritance. I'm not afraid of work."
Trowa slipped an arm around his shoulders. I'm afraid he'll do worse to you than that, He thought sadly.
Later, in the night, Trowa slipped from Quatre's room and glancing around the hallway headed towards his own room downstairs. As his feet touched the ground floor a hand slipped over his mouth and he felt the blunt tip of a gun press against his back. His green eyes widened as a blow stuck his head and he slumped forward.
The next morning Quatre hurried through the hallways of his home, the message from his father had been urgent enough to pull him away from his studies without hesitation. Pushing open the door to his father's library, he slipped silently inside, knowing not to speak to the man until he'd spoken to him.
"Sit down, Quatre." His father looked up from his desk.
He sat in the chair on the opposite side of the desk from the man and waited while his father went through some papers. Finally he set the aside and studied his son.
"I don't know what's wrong with you, Quatre. You've been given the best of everything... the proper training for a man of your status... and now this has come to my attention. I've come to the opinion that there's nothing more that can be done... you are a complete failure. Too much like that weakling woman that birthed you!"
The blonde flinched as the words cut into him. Too often in his life he'd been told that he was weak... too much like his mother and still they cut him. His blue eyes widened as his father reached into his pocket and tossed a small object to him. Catching it, his heart caught in his throat as he recognized the ring that he had given to Trowa.
"The servant that you decided to involve yourself with has been removed from this house. It's a disgrace what you have done and I can only pray that word of it doesn't get out."
"What did you do..." Quatre whispered, fear catching in his voice. "What have you done?!?" He cried jumping to his feet.
"SILENCE!" His father's hand caught him across the face, knocking him to the floor. "I have done what any father would do in my position. You have been betrothed to the daughter of neighboring family... you WILL marry the girl. You WILL provide an heir for this house."
With a defiant look the blonde jumped to his feet and headed for the door. "I will not!"
"Don't bother trying to find him, Quatre. He's been punished according to his crime. There's nothing left to do but marry the girl."
Quatre gasped and backed out from the room. With a sob he fled to the room upstairs where he'd spent most of his time with the young man he'd fallen in love with. Reaching the room, he flew onto the balcony, his hands gripping the rail as he leaned over it sobbing.
The penalty for a servant dallying with his betters was death.
"Never..." He whispered as his tears fell on the silver ring in his hand. "I'll never love anyone again..."
His face was wet. Tears? Was he crying... he wondered as he fought his way towards consciousness. No... someone else. It was someone else's tears. He slowly started to open his eyes, seeing Trowa leaning over him, his silent tears falling onto his skin.
"What have you done?" The brunette was whispering in a voice laced with horror.
"Don't... Trowa..." Quatre rasped as he struggled to sit up. "We have shed too many tears over one another for too long; it's time to stop."
The brunette gasped, his voice! His eyes flew to the packet on the bedside table as he remembered words spoken by his sister a while ago. I gave him the means to remember, Trowa; he only has to choose to use it. In stunned silence he looked back to the blonde sitting before him, his voice was the Quatre of before... lighter... more gentle. It had lost that hard edge that it had possessed.
"You... remember?" He asked softly.
Quatre nodded silently.
"Everything... the very first time I met you when you came to claim my father's land... the time when misconceptions around our village led Heero to try to save me from you..." His eyes saddened. "Learning of your death at my father's order, all because I had loved you and everything before and after... I remember it all."
As Trowa swept him into his arms, the blonde whispered. "All my life I have tried to unravel the reason as to why I was so cold and unwilling to feel... I now know that I haven't loved since that time that my father ordered your death. The vow I made then followed me through all of my lives... and yours."
"What will you do now?" Trowa asked his face buried in Quatre's bright hair.
Quatre pulled back and kissed the brunette, pouring all of his feelings into that simple gesture. As he broke from his love's mouth, he touched his face, his sapphire eyes shining.
"Live... fully and truly live." He breathed as his fingers went to the buttons of Trowa's shirt. "And I'll do it while loving you..."
Is Fate something that is predestined?
If so, what is Fate trying to make people do?
People meet as if they are drawn together...
And they are torn from each other without choice.
To meet, to part, and then to meet again.
Each time, a new bond is tied.
If that is what is called Fate,
Then you will be guided back to me...
Unto another meeting.
--- Author Unknown
Author's Notes: I feel that I should point some little things out. Firstly... there is meant to be an air of question left behind this story... what mystery would there be in life if everything was completely explained? Secondly... many have already figured out... but the spell only affected those present when it was cast... and only those it was meant to affect. Sally and Wufei weren't mentioned in the scene involving their final moments... they were there... but not into the main hall when everything happened...
Aw... heck... keep an eye out for a side story (much shorter one) involving those two, it's hard to write them into this one, simple because they weren't part of Quatre's life very much.
And finally... if you truly enjoyed this fic... I suggest you read a book called "A Moment in Time" by Bertrice Small. It's a historical romance of the finest caliber and this is just a cheap knock-off of the idea presented in there. Word of warning though... please be of age if you are going to read it... Small is famous for her risqué scenes...
The poem... I just found... it seemed to fit the storyline.
Although... if you read this... I would hope you were of age anyway ^^;;;
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