V.i
They lounged about the room in pairs, each snuggling with his or her new spouse. It was decorated lushly, almost like a very large living room, with thick, fluffy carpet covering the floor and large bay windows off to one side. Treize and Une sat in chairs, side by side, keeping their hands mainly to themselves in an effort to remain
dignified in front of the others--who were paying remarkably little attention to him, Treize observed. Heero and Relena had a couch to themselves, and seemed content enough to stare at the fire crackling in the fireplace and sip champagne--though Treize did notice Heero sneaking sultry glances at Trowa every once in a while. Trowa returned them with similar subtlety from his spot next to Quatre on the floor, at the foot of another couch. The General wondered
briefly why they didn't just sit on the couch, but he figured it was something he really didn't need to know, and let himself be content with admiring the softness in Une's eyes. It was rather amazing the difference between the Lady and the Colonel, and, while each had her uses, he was
infinitely happier that it was the Lady sitting next to him at the moment.
Treize had had to do some last minute tweaking to the laws after it had been discovered that legal weddings were limited to opposite-gender couples only, but he figured it was his country now, and he could do damn well whatever he wanted with it, thank you very much.
"I think," Une said to him quietly, "those young people were chewing or smoking one of those special weeds Sally prescribed for my headaches. Their story just doesn't make any sense."
Treize shrugged. "At least their story drowned out more of J's whimpering and moaning."
J sat over by the door, still grouchily waiting around for his errant lover.
Treize tried not to think about it.
Giggling emanating from the vicinity of Trowa and Quatre caused Treize to send a pointed look to his
Chief of Entertainment--Bring in the evening's festivities NOW before the actual sex started,
please--and he cleared his throat. "Hand check."
Everyone raised two hands--except Quatre, who only raised one.
The rest of the people in the room looked at him pointedly.
"What?" Quatre asked.
"That defeats the purpose of a hand check, Quatre," Relena said, eyebrows high on her forehead.
Quatre turned an interesting shade of red and put up his other hand. "Honestly! It wasn't anyplace it shouldn't have been!"
Heero lifted an amused eyebrow.
"You all have dirty minds!" Quatre insisted, crossing his arms indignantly.
Treize had a few ideas where that hand could have been. He knew what those boys were going to be doing later, back in the bedroom: they'd be naked, glistening with sweat, young bodies sliding together in a rhythm of lust and--
"Don't worry about it, dear," Une told him, her hand reaching out to hold Treize's. She was smiling sweetly, but the warning fingernails digging into the General's palm let him know she was all too aware of what was going on in his mind. And how he had no intention of stopping.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the Chief of Entertainment announced. "And Heero." He sent a quick cool look flickering towards Relena and her husband; Treize was suddenly reminded of the rumors that once hinted at a relationship between the two men, and made a mental note to give the man some time off.
Yuy glared at him. Quatre coughed, trying to cover up laughter, while Treize was surprised to find Une doing the same. Trowa and Relena maintained their dignified expressions--well, actually, Trowa's was more of his usual blank look than a "dignified expression", but Treize let it pass without analyzing.
"Tonight's entertainment consists of a play, written and preformed for the occasion of the wedding of our most high General Treize and his bride, Colonel Une!"
Treize nodded as the actors assembled across the floor. "Please begin."
Sally, dressed in a toga, walked forward to the edge of the rug they had designated as the stage. "Greetings, lords and ladies." The "and Heero" was unspoken, but definitely implied as she leveled a look at him. Treize frowned, remembering the rumors about Heero and Sally.
Actually, most of the rumors in the palace were about Heero in some way or another.
Sally continued before Treize could further muse about this new revelation. "I bring you a tale of woe tonight, of mystery and deceit. I bring you--" she paused dramatically, "--the tale of Julius Caesar." Sally moved aside to the corner of the stage, looking graceful and elegant.
Treize's hopes for a similarly graceful and elegant plot fell through, however, as Dorothy and Hilde walked onto the stage, also dressed in togas.
"Okay, so you called a super-extra-secret meeting?" Hilde asked once they'd reached the middle of the rug. She looked at the other girl expectantly.
"I called it," Dorothy said, eyebrows twitching. Treize grimaced. Someone should really teach that girl how to pluck. "We have to do something about Caesar."
"Oh, I agree," Hilde agreed. "We should do something. Should we bake him a fruitcake?"
"I was thinking something a little more insidious," Dorothy said.
"More insidious than fruitcake?" Hilde asked. "That's really insidious."
Dorothy nodded. "I think he should be killed."
"We're going to kill Caesar?" Hilde looked at her, wide-eyed.
"No, you're going to kill Caesar," Dorothy replied.
"Me? What's wrong with you?!"
Dorothy sniffed. "I'm Roman. I don't get my hands dirty. Besides, you're a natural killer."
"I'm not killing Caesar," Hilde said. "You want him gone, do it your own bloody self."
"No, you do it," Dorothy said.
"No, you do it."
"No, you do it."
"You're the one who wants him dead!" Hilde folded her arms and stared at Dorothy spitefully.
"You want him dead, too!" Dorothy cried, and pulled out a plastic knife. "He's both our problem!"
"You want him dead, you do it yourself."
"Shh! Here he comes!" Dorothy cried, and thrust the plastic knife into Hilde's hand, pushing her forwards.
Hilde skidded towards G as he stepped onto the stage, also wearing a toga. G smiled and waved at the two girls, looking surprised as Hilde flailed her arms and ended up impaling G under his armpit, ripping the knife back out before he had a chance to speak. G threw a handful of red confetti at the audience as he dramatically fell to the floor, letting the small pieces of paper symbolize the blood being spilt.
Treize marveled at the girls' ability to kill G's character off before he'd had a chance to become creepy--before he'd even gotten a line out!
"Oh, good, he's finally dead," Dorothy said, walking over next to them to look. "We can finally have a good governmen--hey! This isn't Caesar!"
"Huh?" Hilde asked.
"This isn't Caesar! You idiot! You killed Kenny!" She lifted G's head by the hair and gestured angrily to his face. "How could you mistake Kenny for Caesar? They don't look anything alike! You idiot!"
"Oh, don't try to blame this on me!" Hilde cried. "It's your fault!"
"It doesn't matter. We've got to make sure we kill Caesar next time."
"What's with this 'we', Kemosabe?" Hilde shook her head and gave the knife a dirty look. "I'm not doing any more of your dirty work. You can get your own lily Roman hands bloody!"
Whatever Dorothy was about to retaliate with was cut off by a trumpet fanfare and a voice that sounded distinctly like Catherine saying, "Hail, Caesar!"
From the opposite side of the "stage", Meiran walked out slowly, wearing a toga.
"Caesar?" Dorothy asked.
"KILL!" Hilde screamed, and lunged at Meiran, stabbing her repeatedly with the dull plastic blade.
With a mournful cry, Meiran crumpled to the floor, tossing out her own handful of confetti.
"He's dead!" Hilde said, striking a triumphant pose.
"Oh, no..." Dorothy said, suddenly looking stricken. "What have we done? You killed Caesar!"
"I killed Caesar? We killed Caesar! So we can be done with his stupidity!"
"I can't believe we've killed Caesar..." Dorothy dropped to her knee next to Meiran's body and made a mournful gesture.
"We did a bad," Hilde agreed, kneeling on the other side of the body.
"How horrible!" Dorothy whispered.
Suddenly, the attitude of the play found its moment of solemnity as the two women knelt around the body, quietly grieving. Treize's hand found its way into Une's as they sat there, watching the montage.
"Well," Hilde finally said. "It's a shame Mulder had to die."
The rest of the actors--even the "dead" ones--looked at her, horrified.
"I'm not Mulder, you idiot, I'm Caesar!" Meiran hissed.
G threw some of his leftover confetti at Hilde and glared. "You messed up my dramatic death scene!" he growled.
Sally, a stricken look on her face, coughed suddenly and walked center stage, in front of the tableau. "And, uh, so ends the tragic tale of Julius Caesar." Blushing furiously, she smiled a rather desperate, plastic smile and looked at Treize nervously, as if to gauge his reaction.
When no condemnation was immediately forthright, all the actors scrambled up into a line and bowed, nervously awaiting his reaction.
Before Treize could figure out what to say, he was interrupted by a gargly howl. "G! You did wonderful!"
Treize never knew J could "glomp" someone.
"Would you like to see the dance we prepared? It's a special ritual dance," Hilde said. Meiran, Dorothy, and Catherine glared at her.
He cleared his throat, searching for a diplomatic way of telling them the play sucked, and he was keeping the prize gundam. Fate, however, seemed to be on his side--or,
perhaps it was hormones--as Trowa made an interesting purring noise in response to something Quatre had done.
Treize smiled in relief. "Actually, I think this is our cue to adjourn for the evening. Thank you for the entertainment, ladies and... G, but I think it's time for the wedding night." He looked over at the couples, who were absolutely uninterested in the proceedings. Quatre was making Trowa emit little "mrr-ing" noises (Treize had the feeling Quatre would fail another hand check at the moment), and Heero and Relena were kissing in a rather chaste manner (compared to Quatre and Trowa). Glancing over at Une, Treize was pleased to see an amused, warm look on her face.
With her eyes, she said, "Get us out of here."
"If you'll excuse me, it's my wedding night." Standing gracefully, he held his hand out to Une and helped her up. They strolled out of the room, ignoring the noises G and J were making as they re-introduced themselves. He had the feeling that the other newlyweds would be fleeing to the safety of their own bedrooms soon.
"So, this is where the General lives." Duo whirled around, arms out stretched, and took in the ambiance of the throne room. "Very nice."
"Cozy," Wufei agreed. "Why are we here again?"
"I'm leaving these babies," Duo displayed another set of the infamous Zechs Blackmail Pictures (ZBPs), "somewhere for G's lover to find."
"He has a lover?" Wufei made a disgusted face. "Come on, let's hurry. These mortal places just give me the willies."
"It's not that bad," Duo said cheerfully. "Feels just like home."
Wufei glanced over, looking at Duo out of the corner of his eye. "So, you grew up in a place like this?"
"Me? Like this?" Duo snorted. "Nah. G's house was much smaller. There was a big lab, though--that was the biggest part of the house. I wasn't really allowed there without G's permission, though."
"What kinds of projects was he working on?" Wufei asked idly, happy to find Duo in a introspective mood. Duo talked a lot, but rarely about his past.
"He wanted to make the perfect soldier. I don't mean train," Duo interrupted Wufei's question. "I mean build. Like, with legos."
"Legos?" Wufei furrowed his brow, trying to figure out what kind of contraption a Lego was.
"He had all these potions I had to drink, and these exercises. I don't really remember it all. I was sick a lot, 'cause his potions were crap in a cup, and I didn't get to play outside. I was real lonely until
Shinigami came and found me." Duo turned and grinned brilliantly at Wufei. "Until I met you."
At that moment, Wufei suddenly saw what Zechs had been babbling about in his half-asleep state. Zechs had seen in Duo what Wufei had not until just that moment: Duo's love and adoration.
Wufei found the smile growing on his face in return as he gazed at the gentleness in the other's violet eyes. For a moment, Duo's image was frozen into his mind: his long braid, illuminated by the fire in the fireplace behind him, glowed, and the few strands that poked free of the braid seemed alive in their color; his clothes, black and tailored to fit loosely over his wiry but strong frame, pulled gently over the muscles in his arms, legs, and chest; his skin, hit with the light from the moon through the large windows through which they'd entered, glowed in the pale light with a sheen that came only from love. He tried to think of something to say, and realized suddenly that Duo was still talking.
"And, Wu, I wasn't gonna say anything--especially not with you still getting over Zechs 'n' all that--but during that whole orgy thing those people in the woods had going for themselves, I felt like maybe you understood. Like maybe it wasn't just me." He took a few steps closer to Wufei, standing right in his personal space.
Wufei was caught, that smile still on his face as he gazed at Duo, only half-hearing his words as he tried to figure out how to bring up what Zechs had told him.
When Duo found a way to break through his thoughts.
He started as he felt Duo's hand on his shoulder, a sudden touch of warmth and magic in the cool of the night. Duo's face was only a few inches from his own--when had he come so close?--and they were both still smiling their own soft, brilliant smiles. Duo reached over and brushed their lips together, lingering on the dry caress for a moment before pulling back, the look on his face mirroring the idea that he had to now survey the damage he'd unwittingly wrought.
He needn't have worried.
The warm smile was still on Wufei's face, and the king of fairies settled a hand on his hip to pull him closer. "Maxwell, you don't have to worry anymore."
Duo looked slightly confused at the name, but yet also hopeful at his words. "I don't?"
Wufei knew he was smiling like an idiot--no, he wasn't going to call Duo an idiot anymore, remember? he told himself firmly--in any event, his face knew he was happy in this moment, with only the possibility of love blossoming in him, more happy than any moment he'd had with Zechs, or any other lover he'd had. For some
reason--pick a reason--Duo felt right.
Duo leaned in and pressed his mouth to Wufei's again, as if wondering if the first response was a fluke. He moved his mouth a little, leaning into the kiss as Wufei pressed back. Wufei could feel Duo's hand, the one not on his shoulder, slip up to cup his neck in a gesture that had always felt controlling with Zechs, but now seemed only treasuring. He heard the envelope full of blackmail pictures slip peacefully to the ground as Duo forgot all about his motivations for coming to the mortal palace in the first place; it lifted a burden in Wufei's heart, and he joyfully
reveled in Duo's scent, so much cleaner and erotic than the oils Zechs used. All comparisons fell away, however, as Wufei unwittingly opened his mouth a little and the kiss moved to something deeper. He petted Duo's back, Duo's hair, the soft, sleek skin of Duo's face, feeling the textures and imprinting them into his senses. Duo leaned closer, the hand on his neck sliding into his hair at the base of his ponytail. The leather strap in his hair slid to the ground as the hair sprung free. Duo's other hand slid from his shoulder to his back, pulling him closer so their bodies touched at many different points.
When they finally pulled away, breathing heavily, Wufei's grin was large and vibrant. "You're amazing," he told Duo reverently.
"Yeah," Duo replied, looking a little dazed and a lot pleased.
Wufei chuckled. "I'm not having this discussion with you in a mortal palace. We're going back to the forest."
"I dunno, Wu," Duo said lightly. "There's a certain ambiance to the throne room--" He laughed giddily as Wufei growled and initiated their third kiss. Wufei could feel Duo's body melding against his own, separate and new, but comfortable. They fit together, Wufei realized in a moment of clarity. Why had he never noticed?
The kiss was heated, with an urgency the previous ones had only hinted at. Wufei let the need take over; as fairy king, it was his right to--
But it was Duo... and he would let Duo set the pace. The kiss trickled off, and Wufei took a moment to pull himself back together before stepping away, catching Duo's disappointed hand as it fell and twining their fingers together. "Let's go."
They left, the envelope still lying, forgotten, on the floor.
Fine
Okay, so you've reached the end. Now tell Cassima whatcha think.