All the Things You Never Knew:
Part Two
By: Kitty E.
Quatre had avoided the prince over the next two days after his kiss, giving him the chance to note, and then regret his absence. He was surprised to find he was enjoying himself, planning sweet moments, conjuring poetic statements to recite whenever needed. His greatest joy came in calculating how long it would be before he could get the prince to grant him freedom. Humming unconsciously, he arranged a tray to take to the prince's room, contentedly going over his plans.
Two arms came around his waist, and jerked him back. He stifled a cry, and looked over his shoulder quickly, before falling back against his attacker. He lifted one hand, threading through short, careless brown locks. Heero turned him around, crushing their lips together. By habit, Quatre stood on his toes, wrapping both arms around the eldest prince's neck to help deepen the kiss. He barely had a chance to enjoy it, before Heero's lips were wondering elsewhere.
"You'll be mine again, soon," he murmured as he bit Quatre's neck softly.
"That so?" Quatre asked, a little breathless. Just because the King had demanded his son not see Quatre it didn't mean he'd given up on evertyhing.
Heero pulled away, looking Quatre in the eye, "In a little over a month, I become King. You think my father would put Duo on the throne? He'll have no say over who I take to bed." He bit low on Quatre's neck, before coming up to nip gently at Quatre's earlobe. "You'll be with me every night now on."
"Liar," Quatre breathed, closing his eyes tightly as he did.
Heero stopped, but didn't move for a second. "What?" He shifted, and held Quatre at arms length, the blonde blinking up at him. "Why do you say that?"
"I know why Relena is here, my prince." His turquoise eyes narrowed slightly in accusation.
"We're to be married a few days before my birthday. That was set at birth, you don't expect me to-"
"No, of course not, but you said you'd never ask for me as whore," Quatre said sharply. "What else would I be to you when you have a wife and children? Even a mistress would have more status than I."
Heero's hands clenched tightly over his shoulders, but Quatre refused to wince. "But I don't love her."
"And you love me?" he asked skeptically. Heero said nothing, and Quatre couldn't help but laugh even though he felt angry tears rising. "Of course not, if you loved me you would have never let your father give me to Duo. Relena's probably just as good as me, enjoy her."
Heero stared at him darkly for a moment, but there was no sadness in his eyes, merely dissatisfaction. "Let me go, please. I have things I need to do, sire."
Quatre was all but shoved away, he waited until the prince had stormed out of the room to start breathing again. For a moment, breathy sobs reverberated against the old, stone walls, but Quatre was quick to regain himself. A lifetime as Heero's favorite toy, or freedom, Quatre, make your choice. You saw it in his eyes, he didn't care enough to *keep* me, let alone give me away. I don't even think *I* loved him... He huffed slightly, and picked up the tray, heading down the corridor to Prince Trowa's room.
He made a final pass over his hair before knocking softly on the door, barely heard the faint invitation of, "Come," from within. He was quick to act, stepping in with somewhat of a flourish, careful to watch the prince's eyes for a reaction, however subdued. They passed over him briefly, as if seeing straight through him, and then returned to the paper he was working on. Quatre looked positively offended, but Trowa didn't seem to notice as he lifted one hand to beckon him forth.
Looking as dutiful as possible Quatre placed the tray beside him, and waited. Time ticked on, and Quatre found himself wondering if perhaps he'd overestimated just what effect he'd had on Trowa. He crease in his brow furrowed further as he watched Trowa gingerly take a sip of his wine. Surely something like that doesn't happen everyday, is he really so quick to forget? Or... is he angry? Duo never really said he preferred men, so perhaps he-
"What did you want?" Trowa asked suddenly.
"Sire? I thought I was supposed to wait until you were-"
"I don't mean why you're here, I mean why did you-" he seemed hesitant to even say the words. "Kiss me? What did you hope to get from me?"
Quatre blinked, So suspicious... he doesn't even assume that I would just want to. Not that I do... He smiled, taking a step forward. "Forgive me, sire, but there is just one thing I want."
Disappointment flickered ever so briefly on his new master's face, "What is it?"
Quatre laughed softly, feeling almost smug because the prince was almost making it too easy. "Another kiss."
He gently placed his hand down on Trowa's wrist, carefully pinning it to the armrest. He let the fingers of his other hand slide through Trowa's peculiar hair, then leaned down to bestow his second tender kiss on the prince's lips. Trowa's eyes fell closed a second later, the only indication that it was a welcome touch. Quatre waited, the moment stretching on, until he was sure he felt no refusal, and heard no sound of discontent. He moved closer, but let the contact between their lips break briefly, giving the prince one more chance to say no before closing the gap again, this time gently parting Trowa's lips, and thrusting his tongue inside.
I can still taste the wine, he thought absently. Trowa's mouth opened further, lips making minor, involuntary adjustments under Quatre's. God, his kisses are so soft. Quatre was taken aback by that thought, breaking the kiss abruptly, he stepped back. For a second they only stared at each other, but Quatre remembered his plans in time enough to feign weeping without raising suspicion. He fell to his knees, and hid his face in his hands.
"I can't," he breathed, body heaving with fake sobs. "I'm sorry, I can't do this."
"What do you mean?" Trowa asked, confused that someone could be so distraught over a kiss that they had initiated. "I-"
Quatre cut him off quickly, hoping to avoid questions he had no believable answer for. "I can't become one man's whore just to escape another, not unless I'm sure. Forgive me, I just-" He clutched the Prince's hand, holding it to his forehead. "Please don't send me back to him. I beg you, I'll do anything, if you'll just free me from him."
Trowa was quiet for a moment, but made no move to remove his hand from Quatre's. Leaning forward, voice soft, he asked, "From who?"
Quatre had squeezed his eyes shut enough times to form tears, and could finally looked up to catch the prince's gaze with tearful, pleading eyes. "Your brother, Prince Duo!{1} He's so cruel to me, I can't stand it anymore. Even a whore doesn't deserve that. Please, sire, I beg your mercy."
"Of course, of course you have it," Trowa comforted. He knew his brother well enough to have little doubt of what he was capable of doing. "Have no fear, not anymore. I'll keep you safe from my brother."
Quatre let a look of relief wash over his face, "Thank you, sire! Thank you, I feel I owe you my very life." Carefully, he placed a kiss on the back of Trowa's hand, and again the prince made no move to pull it away. He didn't dare look up as he turned it over, ghosting a small kiss on the un-calloused palm, before sliding his lips to the wrist. His lips parted just a little, enough to get the smallest taste of the prince's soft skin.
Suddenly, the hand was pulled away. "Don't misunderstand me," Trowa said quickly. "You don't need to do that anymore. You'll stay with me, safe from my brother, but only as my personal attendant."
Quatre blinked, wondering how he should respond to that. Troubled, he forced out, "Thank you, majesty."
"Stand, get off your knees, there's no need for that now." Quatre did so, but didn't move away. Trowa shifted, uncomfortable with being hovered over, and so, with a polite smile, he motioned to the chair for Quatre to sit.
Quatre all but flopped into the chair, Personal attendant? What on earth? A manservant? 'Fetch me my cloak, take this message,' *that* kind of slave? I gave up Heero just to become his lackey? Quatre knew this was just no good, the last thing he needed to be to his prince was just another servant. He made it seem like- like he didn't want me to... ever. Hell... oh, hell, I've really done it now.
"What's wrong?" Trowa asked, breaking into Quatre's well-contained panic.
"Nothing, sire. Just thinking," Quatre waved a weary hand, before placing it under his chin.
The prince nodded, and nibbled on a bit of his bread, hesitating before he asked, "Thinking of what?"
Quatre smiled absently, "Of things unforeseen, I suppose... majesty." A moment later he realized Trowa was asking for conversation.
"You're very well-spoken for a servant," Trowa noted. "You're different from the others."
It seemed like such a pretentious thing to say, but in truth Quatre was greatly pleased to be set aside from the downtrodden mass of the lowest class, people made ugly and ignorant by years of toil and servitude. His face brightened imperceptibly even as he spoke sad words. "I should hope so, sire. After all, I wasn't always a whore."
"I should think not," Trowa snorted, Quatre glanced up to see a vague look of good humor forming on the prince's face.
Quatre laughed softly, acknowledging the absurd notion that anyone could be a whore from birth on. "What I meant was, this wasn't exactly a natural next step for me. If you can believe it, majesty, there was a time when I stood to inherit quite a lot of land, and serfs to work them. My family was quite respected, frequent guests of the King, but all that was far from here, in the Midi. I don't think your people even knew our little kingdom existed until you wanted to conquer it. Though when you set your sights on something, I must admit, you put everything into it." Quatre let his eyes drop now, "Your brother is quite thorough with his military campaigns. Before I really understood what was happening our home and country were destroyed. Rather than simply name your father as our king, he stripped everyone of their status, landlords and slaves found themselves in the same rank in the matter of a few weeks.
"In a lot of ways I'm lucky, I could have been made to work in the fieldshere, or in the mines of my homeland. What's more, I'm no mere prostitute on the street corner, majesty. I received as much training in my field as one of your soldiers in theirs. I don't just give my body, you see, I give pleasure. It doesn't seem like much difference, but it's a high enough prestige that I find myself sleeping with the wealthy, the powerful-" Quatre leaned forward, winked at Trowa, "and even Royalty. I was meant for Prince Heero, I'm sure you know, hand picked by his advisor." Quatre trailed off, brow knitting as he stared down at the table before him.
"Why?" Trowa asked, clearly puzzled as to why the son of a landlord would be selected for such work.
Quatre's eyebrow's lifted at the question, "Why was I chosen?" His hand went to his hair, pulling his fingers through the platinum locks. "This, your majesty. Few of your countrymen have such hair, don't *you* think it's extraordinary?" Trowa nodded, perhaps a little vigorously to keep up his appearance of passing interest. "Many of my sisters were made- " Quatre cut himself off, he couldn't say it. Willingly, he called himself a whore, it reminded him of the sheer indignity of it all, never letting him get used to what he was, never disguising it, but he didn't dare think of his sisters that way. "Were made slaves like I am because of my family's fair hair and skin."
The prince said nothing, his gaze had fallen downwards again. "You can go now," he said suddenly, pushing his plate away.
Quatre nodded, and stood to take it up. He glanced down and smiled, "You're eating more, majesty. I'm glad."
For some reason, Trowa felt like blushing, all at once infuriated and excited at the effects this servant had on him. He looked away as Quatre left, not wanting to seem as though he would miss Quatre's presence. He slumped in his chair, brow creasing as he analyzed what had just happened. He says he only kissed me to convince me to give him asylum from whatever twisted games Duo was subjecting him to. Then why was he so disappointed when I told him he didn't have to do it anymore? Another part of Trowa noted his own disapproval of having said such a thing. However, the way those kisses made him feel also made it clear that he had no other choice.
He'd never taken much note of his position but a part of him wanted to reassert control before he found things radically changed from the niche he'd carved for himself. Besides, he knew quite well how laughable it was for a prince to have an affair with a slave. Beyond what Duo indulged in, it was considered unseemly, and in poor taste. Rich had affairs with the rich, though it more than raised the stakes to be caught with a duchess rather than a maid, it was precisely that reason it was more respectable. Anyone could take advantage of, or seduce 'the help,' after all. Quatre was right to be proud of sleeping with royalty, however much he found the act distasteful, on same levels it put him in the same class as any lord or lady.
A sharp knock came at the door, and he allowed himself only a brief moment of hope that it was Quatre returning. "What is it?"
"Your brother, for god sakes, or does your distaste for the family include me?" Duo's self-satisfied voice was heard easily through the heavy wooden door.
It does, but all the riches in the world wouldn't convince me to be on your bad side. Wearily, Trowa got up and opened the door. "What is it, Duo?" he repeated.
"Heero's twentieth birthday is coming soon," Duo said, taking Trowa's seat at the head of the table.
"Don't tell me you're here to discuss the gift?" Trowa almost laughed. He sat down in the seat Quatre had previously occupied.
"You know as well as I that this birthday is different," Duo replied darkly.
Trowa nodded, "Heero will become acting king, he will rule with Father as an advisor until the day comes that he rules alone. What of it?"
"I've just been thinking, as I know you must have, about where we shall find ourselves in a few years. Surely you don't plan to join the military. It just... occurred to me, that you know it's not set in stone that Heero will ascend the throne... any number of things could happen. What then?"
Trowa found he was uncomfortable with such a conversation, while he had no particular affinity for his family it did not mean that he was used to fearing them. He was silent for a moment, dismissing his thoughts as melodramatic. Like it or not, Duo was as much a part of the family as the others, and though his brother went through great lengths for personal gain, Trowa refused to believe Duo was capable of anything more heinous than wishful thinking. "You're asking if I would challenge you? Under the law we have an almost equal claim... especially if Heero names no successor."
"I have plans to make, brother, women to choose as my wife," Duo smirked. "This is one area where I dislike taking risks." Duo stood, "After all, I wouldn't want any bad blood to pass between us. Not over something like this," he placed his hand on Trowa's shoulder, gently pushing him back to stare him right in the eyes. "Do you want the throne?" Duo spoke in a grave tone, and Trowa could tell there was more than curiosity behind it.
Trowa frowned and shook his head firmly, "I have no desire to be King, Duo."
Duo nodded, a grim half smile on his lips, "No... of course not." Quickly, he squeezed Trowa's shoulder, then took a few steps towards the door. "Listen, Trowa, things are about to change... right now we're all the same, just princes under our father..."
Trowa nodded his vague understanding, urging Duo to continue.
"You'll be married soon... to someone you don't love. Why not indulge yourself a bit, eh? I feel like a bad brother letting you waste away prematurely. There'll be plenty of time to do another's work while some fat noblewoman begs you for more jewelry. Have a little fun, one wild affair, before duty really does become inescapable." He looked over Trowa a moment, gauging his reaction, but even shared bloodlines didn't make the boy easier to read.
Trowa did make an attempt to smile, but the expression he managed was more of wariness. Duo left without another word, neither wasting breath on goodbyes. He retired to his inner chambers, shedding off his jacket and shirt as he went. He sat on the bed, and pulled off his boots. One wild affair? With who? The princess who ignores me? Her ladies in waiting who ignore me? Her nurse? With one hand, he rubbed his face. Or the one I refuse to name... Quatre. God, it's like he wants me to... but... do I? Do I want him to?
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{1} Prince Duo... god that sounds gimpy. Sorry about that folks, but I really didn't want to think of all new names. -_-;
{2} Is Tybris a real place? If it is... ignore it? I just tried to make something up.
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Part Three