Another Whumped!Quatre fic
Oct. 1st, 2005 06:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
misanagiIndweller
Rating: R
Pairing: 3x4, implied 1x2 and 5xM
Warnings: AU, fantasy, angst, some violence.
Summary: Ten days can be enough to change the faith of a kingdom. Can they also change the lives of two men?
Disclaimer: I don't own GW or the characters used in this fic.
Archive: Gundanium Line
Notes: Written for the Whumped!Quatre Ficathon, filling![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lil_1337's request. *hugs Lil* I hope that you like it.
Thanks a lot to Anne for the beta.
_____
Day One
The dungeon wasn't a nice place. Trowa Barton had known that even before he had walked into the castle, but that didn't mean that he was prepared to see the dark and humid cells, or the people wasting away inside them. Maybe that was why Trowa had been avoiding taking the dungeon shift for so long, that and the fear of meeting a familiar face and knowing there was nothing he could do to help them. He was good at his job, he knew he wouldn't be recognized unless he wanted to, but that didn't make the visit to the dungeon any less bitter.
He concentrated on searching the dungeon as thoroughly as he could without blowing his cover. After all, a castle guard had to preserve certain composure. However, Trowa knew very well that if he was found out he would be a guest of the dungeon instead of a guard, and he wanted to be sure that he knew every possible escape route in case that happened.
Today was exactly a month since Trowa had begun the undercover assignment. A month working in the palace, of seeing first hand the atrocities that went on there, gathering information, lots of information that, so far, had been useless. He missed his sister and his friends. The only one he had been able to see was Duo, and those were short meetings when Duo came to the castle to bring supplies. They couldn't risk talking so Trowa only made a discrete gesture to let Duo know that he hadn't found anything useful yet, and that he should come back in another ten days. Duo would be back tomorrow, and again, Trowa had nothing to report.
It was getting very frustrating. Of course he knew that he wouldn't be able to find a way to defeat the Sorceress easily, but he had at least hoped to find something, a lead, anything. He was starting to think that the kingdom was running out of time. The King was declaring even more oppressive laws and raising the taxes again. The people didn't have enough to eat and with the new laws even more would starve to death on the streets. It was all the work of the Sorceress. She had poisoned the King's mind, controlling him like a puppet for her own amusement. Trowa remembered the day Princess Relena had been cast out of the castle and then had stood in the middle of the town's square to declare that it wasn't her brother who had done that to her, that it was Lady Dorothy, who was controlling him.
The people had believed her. The Princess was rumored to have the ability to see into a person's soul and she never lied about what she saw. King Milliardo had been a fair ruler until Lady Dorothy had entered the castle for the first time. The changes in the King had been subtle at first. He stopped taking a ride through the countryside every day like he used to, and suspended the public audiences that were held every Thursday in court. Things had turned for the worst after the wedding. No one called Lady Dorothy 'Queen'. The people didn't recognize the union and for them the only title Lady Dorothy deserved was Sorceress. It had been more than a year since the Sorceress had taken complete control over the King and kingdom, and since then many had tried to stop her. None had survived. She was very powerful and ruled the court with fear. Other magic users had tried to go up against her, and she had destroyed them all.
Fighting the Sorceress seemed to be a hopeless endeavor but the people hadn't given up. Trowa was determined to find her weakness. Everyone had one and if he was able to find hers, then there still was hope for the people of Sank.
Trowa leaned against the wall. He still had a lot of the palace to explore, and he hadn't found a way into the Sorceress' rooms. Her deepest secrets were probably there, but that made her rooms the best guarded in the whole castle.
The sound of soft footsteps reached Trowa's ears. He pressed himself to the wall as much as he could, letting the shadows cover him. He swallowed a gasp when, moments later, the Sorceress walked by him. She was walking straight to a dead end corridor.
Soundlessly, Trowa followed her. He was a great spy, and no one could hide in the shadows like Trowa could. He had the ability to stand in spots no one would think to look at, to almost disappear while he was still in plain view. Whatever magic allowed him to do that, also allowed him to shield his thoughts. No one could find him, even if they tried to read his mind. Heero was good at reading thoughts, and he had told Trowa once that when he shielded his thoughts it was almost as if he ceased to exist.
Trowa watched as the Sorceress reached the end of the corridor and then pressed one of the stones. Immediately a hidden door slid up, revealing a long corridor, lit only with one torch. Most of the corridor was hidden by the shadows, but as the Sorceress moved inside it, the torch traveled with her, lighting her path. Trowa kept his distance and his steps silent as he followed the Sorceress.
At the end of the corridor there was a single wooden door. It was carved with some sort of symbols and decorated with a crystal Trowa had never seen before. A heavy lock kept the door shut. The Sorceress retrieved a key from a golden chain around her neck and opened the door.
It was a small room, illuminated by a single candle. There was a torn mattress on the floor, and sitting on it was a young man about Trowa's age. He didn't look dirty and ill like all the other prisoners in the dungeon but there was something about him that reflected an immense sadness. The door was shut before Trowa could see anything else.
He waited in the corridor. It would have been safer to leave and come back to investigate the strange room later but Trowa couldn't bring himself to do that. He needed to stay, but he didn't know why yet. He could hear voices inside. The Sorceress was talking with the man but Trowa couldn't distinguish any words.
Suddenly, a bright glow could be seen surrounding the door, as if a gigantic fire was burning inside, and then, after a moment, it disappeared. Trowa didn't have time to think about what had happened because the door opened and the Sorceress walked out. She had a white crystal in her hands. The crystal was round and the size of a human head, and appeared to be glowing with a blue light. She was looking at it and smiling, an evil smile that Trowa was sure would give him nightmares for some time.
Trowa pressed himself to the wall and held his breath. The door closed behind the Sorceress, and she replaced the lock before walking down the corridor. Only after he heard the sound of the hidden door closing, Trowa let out a sigh. The torch apparently only followed the Sorceress because it had gone back with her to the corridor's entrance and had stayed there. Trowa could see the faint glow in the distance but the light was too far away to be any help to him. However, Trowa had no intention of leaving. He was determined to discover who was behind the door and why the Sorceress kept him prisoner.
Using his hands to guide himself, Trowa walked to the door and felt around for the lock. He didn't have Duo's natural ability to open closed locks just by touching them, but he could pick them, even if he had no light to see. It took him more time than usual but eventually Trowa managed to get the door open.
The single candle was still glowing, and now, Trowa could get a better look at the small room and its occupant. The torn mattress on the floor was the only furniture, but there were other small things that no other cell in the dungeon had: a large basin with clean water, a tray with food, five books and a blanket.
Trowa closed the door behind him and retrieved the blanket from the floor. The young man was lying on the mattress, his back turned to Trowa, and shivering. Trowa approached carefully, He didn't know if the captive was dangerous or why was he being held there, but Trowa wasn't about to let him get cold.
"I won't harm you."
The captive didn't move or turn to look at Trowa. In fact, he didn't acknowledge him in any way. Trowa crouched and put his hand on the other man's back. Again, there was no reaction. The man seemed to be unconscious and wasn't responding. Carefully, Trowa turned the captive around to lie on his back, so he could get a better look at him.
The man's eyes were closed, he was still shaking, but his breathing was even. There was a silver collar around his neck and a chain was attached to it and hooked to one of the walls. Trowa didn't understand why he hadn't seen it before. He ran his fingers softly over the collar. It felt cool to the touch and smooth. There didn't seem to be a lock. It had probably been magically sealed.
Then, Trowa noticed something from the corned of his eye. There were some small red spots on the floor and on the mattress. It was blood, and it was leaking from the captive's hand. Gently, Trowa took the hand in his. There was a long diagonal cut that ran from the index finger to the wrist and the skin on the sides seemed to be scarred, as it was an old would that was being opened again and again.
Getting up, Trowa walked to the basin. He took the small cup beside it and filled it with water. The wound would have to be cleaned or it could get infected and right now the captive wasn't in any shape to do it himself. There didn't seem to be any type of bandages around so Trowa tore a strip of his undershirt – it wouldn't be wise to tear his uniform – and after wetting it, used it to clean the wound. The cut wasn't too deep and, after Trowa bandaged it, the bleeding stopped.
Knowing that he couldn't stay there any longer, Trowa covered the man with the blanket and walked to the door. Before leaving, he gave the man one last look. 'Who are you?'
* * *
Day Two
When Duo came in the morning with the castle supplies, Trowa managed to give him a discreet signal to let him and his friends know that he had a lead. It could be something or it could be nothing but it was more than anything Trowa had found before. Duo grinned and left. He would be back in another ten days.
Trowa did his shift, standing in the main corridor, guarding the palace. As usual, nothing happened. No one dared to attack the palace anymore. Not since the Sorceress had defeated one hundred men in less than an hour. That had been the first and the last open rebellion. Hopefully, taking down the Sorceress would not require any more people to give up their lives. Trowa didn't know why, but he felt confident that the strange man locked in the secret passage was an important key in defeating the Sorceress.
The moment his shift ended, Trowa headed down to the dungeon. He opened the secret passage, as the Sorceress had done the day before, and walked into the corridor. Like yesterday, the torch stayed in its place by the door while Trowa walked into the darkness. Forty-two steps from door to door.
To keep appearances, Trowa had locked the door again. Picking it didn't take long. The soft light of the candle distracted him for a moment, and then he heard a voice.
"Who are you?"
Trowa blinked, focusing his vision. The young man was still on the mattress, but he was awake now. He was leaning on the wall, still looking pale and looking at Trowa through half closed eyes.
Without moving his eyes away from the man, Trowa entered the room and closed the door behind him. He took a couple of hesitant steps inside, but stopped before he could get too close to the captive.
The man looked at his bandaged hand and then at Trowa. "You did this?"
Trowa nodded. "You were bleeding."
Putting the hand on his lap, the captive whispered, "Dorothy doesn't know you are here, does she? If she finds you, she'll kill you."
No one called the Sorceress by her given name. People addressed her as Lady Dorothy out of fear, but the man had said the name so casually, as if he didn't fear her at all. "Who are you?" Trowa asked.
The man didn't answer and instead asked, "Would you do me a favor?" After Trowa nodded he continued. "There's a tray with food at that corner and a basin with water. Could you please fill a cup and hand me the tray? I'm afraid I'm not strong enough to get it myself yet."
Spotting the tray in the corner, Trowa did as he had been asked. He kneeled beside the mattress to place the tray on the captive's lap. The man smiled. "Thank you," he said.
The man ate silently and slowly. Handling the utensils seemed to be difficult for him and he often stopped eating to take deep breaths. As he ate, more color seemed to return to his face and by the time he was done, his eyes were fully opened, instead of half closed as they had been.
"Dorothy won't come back for another eight days," said the captive, placing the tray beside the mattress. Immediately the tray disappeared. "You need to leave the palace before then."
Trowa shook his head. "What do you mean?"
"She'll know you were here and she'll kill you." The captive sighed. "You helped me and I don't want you to die for it."
"Why are you here?" Trowa looked at the long chain attached to the collar on the man's neck. "Why are you bound like this?"
"It's been so long since I've seen anyone other than Dorothy." The captive moved his hand slowly, letting it rest on top of Trowa's. Trowa just looked, unable to pull away. "It's good to hear another voice." He smiled and Trowa saw how the sadness disappeared for a moment. "Thank you." The man lay down on the mattress and closed his eyes. "It was nice, even if it was only a dream."
Not really knowing what to do or say, Trowa only caressed the man's hand and whispered, "at least tell me your name."
The words were mumbled and soft even though Trowa heard them clearly. But it was impossible. Quatre Raberba Winner was dead.
* * *
Day Three
Trowa stood in the east tower, staring down at the city. It looked beautiful. He was too far up to notice the children crying in the streets because they were hungry, or the Sorceress' soldiers destroying people's homes while supposedly looking for rebels. From this height, the city was just a collection of houses and streets and the people were invisible. Maybe that was why the King could sleep soundly at night; he was completely blind to what was happening to the city he'd once loved.
Far in the horizon Trowa could see the mountains and the huge house on top of one of the hills. It had been the Winner house before, but it was empty now. The Winners had lived in the mountain village. Their house was huge because the family was very large but also because they gave shelter to anyone who needed for as long as it was necessary. The few villagers that had come to the city after the Winners left, told that there were never less than one hundred people in the Winner home, and they were all treated as if they were Winners themselves.
It was the death of the Winner heir that changed it all, not just for the mountain village but for the whole kingdom as well. Quatre Raberba Winner was the first person executed by the Sorceress. As many other nobles, Quatre had been commanded to assist the wedding. The wedding festivities had lasted three days, and on the night of the third the Sorceress had announced that the Winner heir had tried to assassinate her and had been executed for his treason to the kingdom.
The Winners had accused the Sorceress of lying, and as a result she refused to return the body and burnt it. That's when the Winners had packed up and left. They refused to live under the Sorceress' rule and headed to the desert where they had family. The villagers were encouraged to go with them and most did. The few that didn't came to the city, maybe hoping that things would change someday.
If the captive truly was who he claimed to be, then he had been locked in that room for a little over a year. Why would the Sorceress hold Quatre and not kill him? Was there something she needed from him? Was she in love with him? Trowa shook his head. The Sorceress wasn't capable of love.
He spent his shift looking at the mountains and imagining Quatre there. If he really was the Winner heir, he would have grown up in the hills. The children of the villagers always told stories of the forests, the threes and how things were green and beautiful in the hills. They liked to play make believe games, imagining that they were back in the mountains playing, instead of in the cold dirty city. Trowa used to listen to them; they gave him hope.
After his replacement arrived at the tower, Trowa headed quickly to the servant's kitchen and grabbed his ration of bread before heading to the dungeon. He hadn't bothered to replace the lock yesterday. He had believed Quatre when he'd said that the Sorceress wouldn't come. He was about to open the door, but instead knocked on it and waited.
There was no reply so Trowa knocked again. He was about to knock for the third time when a voice said, "who's there?"
Trowa opened the door a little, but stayed outside the room, giving Quatre the chance to look at him. As before, a candle illuminated the room and Quatre was sitting on the mattress, a book in his had. Quatre gasped when he saw Trowa and whispered, "Maybe you are not a dream."
"Can I come in?" asked Trowa.
"Um... yes." Quatre closed the book on his lap and put it beside him.
Trowa walked inside, shut the door and moved closer to Quatre. He sat down in front of Quatre and waited.
Quatre moved a hand towards Trowa, tentatively, as if he was expecting to encounter nothing but air. When Quatre's fingers touched Trowa's arm, Quatre smiled. "You are real."
Trowa couldn't help but return the smile. "How are you today?" he asked.
"Less tired," replied Quatre. "I can stand up now but I get dizzy if I'm on my feet too long. I'll be fine in a couple of days."
"What happened to you?"
Quatre shook his head slowly. "You are the first person other than Dorothy that I've seen in so long, and I don't even know your name, or how you found me." He took his hand away from Trowa's arm. "I guess I should start. My name is Quatre and I'm a prisoner. Who are you?"
Trowa wanted to inquire more but he knew that he had to give some information about himself before Quatre trusted him enough to say much more. "I am Trowa, and I'm a guard."
"No, you are not." Quatre's voice was soft. "That's what you are pretending to be, not who you are."
"Are you a psychic?" Trowa's voice was defensive. No one had ever been able to see through his masks before.
"I'm an empath," replied Quatre, his voice still soft, "but I can't read you right now." He gestured with his hand to the collar around his neck. "This prevents me from doing anything magical."
Empathy was a common ability. Many people had it but it wasn't very useful. Getting a weak sense of someone's feelings was considered little more than good intuition and it certainly wasn't a dangerous ability. There was no reason to restrain an empath like this. "Is that all you are? An empath?"
Quatre laughed. It didn't last long and it was a bitter laugh. "Those were the first words Dorothy said to me. Maybe things wouldn't be like this if…" He trailed of and made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "There's no use in asking what ifs. So, Trowa, who are you?"
Deciding to take the risk, Trowa said, "I'm a rebel. I'm here trying to find a way to defeat the Sorceress."
"Yes," Quatre nodded. "That's why you are in the palace. But why are you here?"
"I saw the Sorceress in the dungeon two days ago and decided to follow her. She led me here. Why are you here, Quatre."
Quatre sighed. "I'm here because Dorothy needs me. She knew I would never help her so she found a way to get what she needed without my cooperation."
"What would the Sorceress need from an empath? A Sorceress who is powerful enough to make the King do as she wishes, to defeat a hundred men and kill every single person who has opposed her." Trowa was getting frustrated. Quatre, if that was really his name, was speaking in riddles.
"Dorothy is very skilled in handling raw magic, she has always been. However, she's not a very good psychic. She can do some basic tricks like reading extremely clear thoughts or knowing when someone's lying, but nothing else." Quatre looked up at the ceiling. "She always wanted to be queen. I thought that she would grow out of it but it became an obsession. When she left for court I knew she would try to get the King's attention, I just never thought she would go to such extremes."
Trowa's eyes were as wide as plates. "You knew the Sorceress before she came to court."
"We studied together under the same teacher. She was the only other student there and my only friend for five years."
It wasn't unusual for children with high magical abilities to go study with a teacher. Most teachers wouldn't bother with someone who wasn't skillful enough and wouldn't take more than one or two pupils at a time. Magic was common and everyone had it in some degree. Those who had enough to actually be allowed to study were regarded very highly. "Empaths don't have that kind of power."
Quatre nodded. "Most empaths don't. That's why Dorothy thought I was beneath her."
"You never answered. What does she need from you?"
"I'm sorry." Quatre smiled sheepishly. "I let myself get lost in memories. Dorothy only comes here for what she needs and to gloat about her accomplishments. It's been a while since I had a real conversation." He took a sip from a cup of water that was beside the mattress. "By the time Dorothy arrived at the palace, King Milliardo was already in love."
"Lady Lucrezia Noin." Trowa said. Lady Lucrezia had been expelled from the palace before the wedding. No one knew exactly where she was now, but it was rumored that Princess Relena had gone to her after she too had been expelled, and that they were the ones really organizing the resistance.
"Instead of giving up, Dorothy gave the King a love potion, and while the King was under its influence, Dorothy convinced him to make Lady Lucrezia leave."
"The Sorceress can't control the King just with a love potion," said Trowa. Kings were born with very strong wills and they weren't easy to break. It was part of their magic. A love potion could work on a commoner, not a King.
"From then until the wedding, Dorothy gave the King many different potions to keep him infatuated with her. However, the King was building a resistance to her potions and it wouldn't be long before they proved ineffective." Quatre gave Trowa a sad look. "The wedding was also a scheme to bring me to the palace."
Trowa shook his head. "Quatre Raberba Winner died at the wedding. He was executed for trying to kill the Sorceress."
"That's a lie." Quatre looked at Trowa. "I can't prove who I am. I can only give you my word. It's up to you to believe it."
"I believe you." The words left Trowa's mouth before he could think them through. There was no reason for him to believe what Quatre was saying, but he did anyway. "Please, continue."
This time Quatre's smile wasn't sad. It felt real, as if he was truly happy that Trowa believed his words. "As a noble, I couldn't refuse the invitation. I came to the palace knowing that Dorothy was up to something, but that didn't help me prevent it. She put something in my drink and when I woke up I was here, and this thing," he glared at the chain, "was around my neck."
"Why?"
"I'm a very powerful empath, Trowa. Regular empaths can only get a sense of what others are feeling. I can feel their emotions as if they were my own, and in addition I can make them feel things too."
Trowa glared. Projective empathy was a myth. No one had even heard of someone with that type of ability. Not even strong telepaths could make people feel things. Talking in someone's head was one thing but making people feel emotions that weren't theirs wasn't possible. If that kind of power existed, then people could be controlled like puppets, like… like the Sorceress controlled the King. Trowa moved back. "You are responsible for what's happened to the kingdom?"
Quatre lowered his eyes. "Yes." He was silent for a moment and then he looked at Trowa in the eyes. "You said you came looking for a way to stop the Sorceress. If you really want the King to break out of her hold, then kill me." There was no fear reflected in Quatre's eyes. "Kill me and the kingdom will be free."
Trowa stood up and his hand moved for his sword. Quatre noticed, smiled, and lowered his head, waiting for the blow. Instead of the sword, Trowa took out a small dagger and dropped it on the floor at Quatre's feet. "Do it yourself," he said, and left the room, not looking back.
* * *
Day Four
Trowa couldn't sleep that night and spent the whole time guarding the south garden, thinking of Quatre. He had seemed so determined, so sure when he had asked Trowa to kill him. Trowa didn't want to contemplate the possibility, but maybe Quatre had gone through with it.
Quatre had seemed like a nice person and Trowa had immediately taken a liking to him. Learning that he was the one responsible for the Sorceress' control over the King had made Trowa furious. He felt betrayed. It made no sense; he didn't know Quatre, so why would he feel like he just lost a friend? Still, he hadn't been able to kill him and now he kept hoping that Quatre hadn't taken his own life.
A question kept repeating in Trowa's head. If Quatre was helping the Sorceress then why was he locked in that room? It was certainly better than the cells in the dungeon but it was still a prison. Quatre couldn't leave; he was trapped there and had been for a year, completely isolated from the world, except for the Sorceress' visits. He was chained to the wall, a chain that prevented him from doing any magic.
Trowa almost dropped the sword in his hand with the realization. If the chain didn't let Quatre use his empathy, then how was he controlling the King?
He didn't even stop for food this time and just ran to the dungeon as soon as his shift was over. He slammed the door of Quatre's cell open and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the other man sitting on the mattress, eating, with the dagger beside him on the floor.
"If you hadn't run out yesterday," said Quatre, "I would have told you that I can't take my own life. Dorothy made a binding spell after I tried to starve to death."
There were many different things Trowa wanted to ask Quatre but the first question that came to his mind was, "Who brings the food?"
"Dorothy made a spell. The tray fills itself every time I put it on the floor. It always reappears filled in the corner. The same happens with the water in the basin." He put the tray in the floor and it reappeared filled in the corner. "Dorothy can't afford for me to die."
"Why do you want to die?"
Quatre stood up and walked to the corner. He picked up the tray and brought it to Trowa. "Sit down and eat. You look hungry."
Trowa didn't take the tray. "Answer me."
"I will" Quatre said, "if you eat."
Trowa sat down on the mattress, his back to the wall, and took the tray. Quatre remained standing, leaning on the far wall. "Shouldn't you sit?" Trowa asked.
"I have some energy today," Quatre said, but then he let himself slide down the wall, and sat on the floor. "I guess I'll need it if you want me to explain."
"Why do you want to die?" Trowa repeated.
"I don't." Quatre looked around the room. "I can't leave this place, and as long as I'm here Dorothy will continue ruling the kingdom. I'd rather die than be responsible of more deaths."
"How are you responsible? I thought you said you couldn't read me with that collar."
"I can't. This thing seals my magic. I can't do anything, I can't feel anyone." The last words sounded almost desperate. Heero had once told Trowa that the whispers in his head didn't bother him because he had always heard them. Heero couldn't imagine not hearing them; it would be as if the world was empty. Trowa wondered if Quatre felt the same, how lonely it must be to be trapped not only physically but also mentally.
"I don't understand. If you can't use your empathy then how are you responsible?"
"I can't use it, but Dorothy can." Quatre looked down at his hands. "She performs a ritual that drains me from my magic, transforming it to a crystal. She makes a potion with it and gives it to the King every night. That's how she controls him." He shifted his eyes to the dagger in the mattress. "If I'm dead, she can't make the potion and the King will be free." Quatre shrugged. "It's the only way."
Trowa had barely eaten but he put the tray on the floor and went to sit beside Quatre. "That's not the only way. I'll get you out of here."
Quatre smiled that sad smile Trowa had come to know. "Don't you think I've tried to escape?" He took Trowa's hand and guided it to the collar around his neck. "It has no lock." Trowa had already noticed that. The steal was smooth, a single piece. "I can't even get close to the door," Quatre continued. "The only time I touched it I passed out from the pain. I'm not sealed in the room by the chain to the wall or the lock in the door. Dorothy used my blood to seal me in magically."
Trowa moved his hand to Quatre's cheek. "I won't kill you."
Quatre sighed. "You should."
They didn't speak again. Trowa stayed by Quatre's side, leaving only when Quatre had finally closed his eyes and fallen asleep. Before he left, Trowa moved Quatre to the mattress, put the blanket over him and ran his hands through Quatre's hair.
Trowa dreamed of Quatre that night.
* * *
Day Five
"Is there a way to stop the Sorceress from performing the ritual?" Trowa asked. He had come to visit Quatre as soon as he was done for the day.
"I can't use magic," Quatre answered. "Once I tried to fight her but she just used a spell to immobilize me." Quatre glared at the chain. "I can't defend myself."
Trowa remembered the wound in Quatre's hand, and how it seemed to have been reopened several times. "What does she do, exactly? How does the ritual work?"
Quatre moved his eyes away from Trowa and looked at the wall in front of him. "She needs my blood to initiate it." He showed Trowa his right hand. The bandage wasn't there anymore and the wound seemed to be healing. "It's not deep. It doesn't hurt much. She drips the blood on a stone and says an enchantment." A shrug. "That's it. The magic is drained out of me and into the stone, transforming it to a crystal."
"That's why you were unconscious." Magic was integral to a person. The more they had the more they depended on it. For someone as powerful as Quatre being drained of his magic must be like being drained of his life force. "Does it hurt?"
Quatre's hand moved over his chest. He took a deep breath and then said, "It's not pleasant. I should be used to it by now…" Quatre didn't need to finish the sentence for Trowa to understand.
"How often?" Trowa asked.
"Every ten days without a fault." Quatre put his hand back on his lap. "That's how long it takes me to get my strength back."
Trowa didn't want to calculate how many times Quatre had bared the ritual. He only knew that he didn't want there to be another one. "I'll need to get you out before then. We have five days."
Quatre lowered his eyes. It was something he did every time he said something he didn't want to. "You should just leave. It's dangerous for you to stay here. She will kill you if she finds out you know about me."
With a glare, Trowa said. "I won't leave without you."
"You don't even know me." This time Quatre looked at him. "Why do you care so much?"
Trowa didn't know. He had known Quatre only for five days but that had been enough for Trowa to think of him as a friend. "I don't abandon my friends."
Quatre smiled. "Friends. I like that."
"I won't visit you tomorrow," Trowa said. Thinking of friends had given him an idea. "I have some friends in the city. I'll go to them tomorrow. I'm sure they'll be able to help us." He didn't know when he had started to think of Quatre's captivity as their problem, but it was, and they would solve it together.
"I'll miss you." Quatre said. "Just be careful, Trowa." He frowned. "You never told me your last name."
"It's Barton."
A smile appeared on Quatre's face. "Come back to me, Trowa Barton. I'll be waiting."
* * *
TBC
Rating: R
Pairing: 3x4, implied 1x2 and 5xM
Warnings: AU, fantasy, angst, some violence.
Summary: Ten days can be enough to change the faith of a kingdom. Can they also change the lives of two men?
Disclaimer: I don't own GW or the characters used in this fic.
Archive: Gundanium Line
Notes: Written for the Whumped!Quatre Ficathon, filling
lil_1337's request. *hugs Lil* I hope that you like it.Thanks a lot to Anne for the beta.
_____
Day One
The dungeon wasn't a nice place. Trowa Barton had known that even before he had walked into the castle, but that didn't mean that he was prepared to see the dark and humid cells, or the people wasting away inside them. Maybe that was why Trowa had been avoiding taking the dungeon shift for so long, that and the fear of meeting a familiar face and knowing there was nothing he could do to help them. He was good at his job, he knew he wouldn't be recognized unless he wanted to, but that didn't make the visit to the dungeon any less bitter.
He concentrated on searching the dungeon as thoroughly as he could without blowing his cover. After all, a castle guard had to preserve certain composure. However, Trowa knew very well that if he was found out he would be a guest of the dungeon instead of a guard, and he wanted to be sure that he knew every possible escape route in case that happened.
Today was exactly a month since Trowa had begun the undercover assignment. A month working in the palace, of seeing first hand the atrocities that went on there, gathering information, lots of information that, so far, had been useless. He missed his sister and his friends. The only one he had been able to see was Duo, and those were short meetings when Duo came to the castle to bring supplies. They couldn't risk talking so Trowa only made a discrete gesture to let Duo know that he hadn't found anything useful yet, and that he should come back in another ten days. Duo would be back tomorrow, and again, Trowa had nothing to report.
It was getting very frustrating. Of course he knew that he wouldn't be able to find a way to defeat the Sorceress easily, but he had at least hoped to find something, a lead, anything. He was starting to think that the kingdom was running out of time. The King was declaring even more oppressive laws and raising the taxes again. The people didn't have enough to eat and with the new laws even more would starve to death on the streets. It was all the work of the Sorceress. She had poisoned the King's mind, controlling him like a puppet for her own amusement. Trowa remembered the day Princess Relena had been cast out of the castle and then had stood in the middle of the town's square to declare that it wasn't her brother who had done that to her, that it was Lady Dorothy, who was controlling him.
The people had believed her. The Princess was rumored to have the ability to see into a person's soul and she never lied about what she saw. King Milliardo had been a fair ruler until Lady Dorothy had entered the castle for the first time. The changes in the King had been subtle at first. He stopped taking a ride through the countryside every day like he used to, and suspended the public audiences that were held every Thursday in court. Things had turned for the worst after the wedding. No one called Lady Dorothy 'Queen'. The people didn't recognize the union and for them the only title Lady Dorothy deserved was Sorceress. It had been more than a year since the Sorceress had taken complete control over the King and kingdom, and since then many had tried to stop her. None had survived. She was very powerful and ruled the court with fear. Other magic users had tried to go up against her, and she had destroyed them all.
Fighting the Sorceress seemed to be a hopeless endeavor but the people hadn't given up. Trowa was determined to find her weakness. Everyone had one and if he was able to find hers, then there still was hope for the people of Sank.
Trowa leaned against the wall. He still had a lot of the palace to explore, and he hadn't found a way into the Sorceress' rooms. Her deepest secrets were probably there, but that made her rooms the best guarded in the whole castle.
The sound of soft footsteps reached Trowa's ears. He pressed himself to the wall as much as he could, letting the shadows cover him. He swallowed a gasp when, moments later, the Sorceress walked by him. She was walking straight to a dead end corridor.
Soundlessly, Trowa followed her. He was a great spy, and no one could hide in the shadows like Trowa could. He had the ability to stand in spots no one would think to look at, to almost disappear while he was still in plain view. Whatever magic allowed him to do that, also allowed him to shield his thoughts. No one could find him, even if they tried to read his mind. Heero was good at reading thoughts, and he had told Trowa once that when he shielded his thoughts it was almost as if he ceased to exist.
Trowa watched as the Sorceress reached the end of the corridor and then pressed one of the stones. Immediately a hidden door slid up, revealing a long corridor, lit only with one torch. Most of the corridor was hidden by the shadows, but as the Sorceress moved inside it, the torch traveled with her, lighting her path. Trowa kept his distance and his steps silent as he followed the Sorceress.
At the end of the corridor there was a single wooden door. It was carved with some sort of symbols and decorated with a crystal Trowa had never seen before. A heavy lock kept the door shut. The Sorceress retrieved a key from a golden chain around her neck and opened the door.
It was a small room, illuminated by a single candle. There was a torn mattress on the floor, and sitting on it was a young man about Trowa's age. He didn't look dirty and ill like all the other prisoners in the dungeon but there was something about him that reflected an immense sadness. The door was shut before Trowa could see anything else.
He waited in the corridor. It would have been safer to leave and come back to investigate the strange room later but Trowa couldn't bring himself to do that. He needed to stay, but he didn't know why yet. He could hear voices inside. The Sorceress was talking with the man but Trowa couldn't distinguish any words.
Suddenly, a bright glow could be seen surrounding the door, as if a gigantic fire was burning inside, and then, after a moment, it disappeared. Trowa didn't have time to think about what had happened because the door opened and the Sorceress walked out. She had a white crystal in her hands. The crystal was round and the size of a human head, and appeared to be glowing with a blue light. She was looking at it and smiling, an evil smile that Trowa was sure would give him nightmares for some time.
Trowa pressed himself to the wall and held his breath. The door closed behind the Sorceress, and she replaced the lock before walking down the corridor. Only after he heard the sound of the hidden door closing, Trowa let out a sigh. The torch apparently only followed the Sorceress because it had gone back with her to the corridor's entrance and had stayed there. Trowa could see the faint glow in the distance but the light was too far away to be any help to him. However, Trowa had no intention of leaving. He was determined to discover who was behind the door and why the Sorceress kept him prisoner.
Using his hands to guide himself, Trowa walked to the door and felt around for the lock. He didn't have Duo's natural ability to open closed locks just by touching them, but he could pick them, even if he had no light to see. It took him more time than usual but eventually Trowa managed to get the door open.
The single candle was still glowing, and now, Trowa could get a better look at the small room and its occupant. The torn mattress on the floor was the only furniture, but there were other small things that no other cell in the dungeon had: a large basin with clean water, a tray with food, five books and a blanket.
Trowa closed the door behind him and retrieved the blanket from the floor. The young man was lying on the mattress, his back turned to Trowa, and shivering. Trowa approached carefully, He didn't know if the captive was dangerous or why was he being held there, but Trowa wasn't about to let him get cold.
"I won't harm you."
The captive didn't move or turn to look at Trowa. In fact, he didn't acknowledge him in any way. Trowa crouched and put his hand on the other man's back. Again, there was no reaction. The man seemed to be unconscious and wasn't responding. Carefully, Trowa turned the captive around to lie on his back, so he could get a better look at him.
The man's eyes were closed, he was still shaking, but his breathing was even. There was a silver collar around his neck and a chain was attached to it and hooked to one of the walls. Trowa didn't understand why he hadn't seen it before. He ran his fingers softly over the collar. It felt cool to the touch and smooth. There didn't seem to be a lock. It had probably been magically sealed.
Then, Trowa noticed something from the corned of his eye. There were some small red spots on the floor and on the mattress. It was blood, and it was leaking from the captive's hand. Gently, Trowa took the hand in his. There was a long diagonal cut that ran from the index finger to the wrist and the skin on the sides seemed to be scarred, as it was an old would that was being opened again and again.
Getting up, Trowa walked to the basin. He took the small cup beside it and filled it with water. The wound would have to be cleaned or it could get infected and right now the captive wasn't in any shape to do it himself. There didn't seem to be any type of bandages around so Trowa tore a strip of his undershirt – it wouldn't be wise to tear his uniform – and after wetting it, used it to clean the wound. The cut wasn't too deep and, after Trowa bandaged it, the bleeding stopped.
Knowing that he couldn't stay there any longer, Trowa covered the man with the blanket and walked to the door. Before leaving, he gave the man one last look. 'Who are you?'
* * *
Day Two
When Duo came in the morning with the castle supplies, Trowa managed to give him a discreet signal to let him and his friends know that he had a lead. It could be something or it could be nothing but it was more than anything Trowa had found before. Duo grinned and left. He would be back in another ten days.
Trowa did his shift, standing in the main corridor, guarding the palace. As usual, nothing happened. No one dared to attack the palace anymore. Not since the Sorceress had defeated one hundred men in less than an hour. That had been the first and the last open rebellion. Hopefully, taking down the Sorceress would not require any more people to give up their lives. Trowa didn't know why, but he felt confident that the strange man locked in the secret passage was an important key in defeating the Sorceress.
The moment his shift ended, Trowa headed down to the dungeon. He opened the secret passage, as the Sorceress had done the day before, and walked into the corridor. Like yesterday, the torch stayed in its place by the door while Trowa walked into the darkness. Forty-two steps from door to door.
To keep appearances, Trowa had locked the door again. Picking it didn't take long. The soft light of the candle distracted him for a moment, and then he heard a voice.
"Who are you?"
Trowa blinked, focusing his vision. The young man was still on the mattress, but he was awake now. He was leaning on the wall, still looking pale and looking at Trowa through half closed eyes.
Without moving his eyes away from the man, Trowa entered the room and closed the door behind him. He took a couple of hesitant steps inside, but stopped before he could get too close to the captive.
The man looked at his bandaged hand and then at Trowa. "You did this?"
Trowa nodded. "You were bleeding."
Putting the hand on his lap, the captive whispered, "Dorothy doesn't know you are here, does she? If she finds you, she'll kill you."
No one called the Sorceress by her given name. People addressed her as Lady Dorothy out of fear, but the man had said the name so casually, as if he didn't fear her at all. "Who are you?" Trowa asked.
The man didn't answer and instead asked, "Would you do me a favor?" After Trowa nodded he continued. "There's a tray with food at that corner and a basin with water. Could you please fill a cup and hand me the tray? I'm afraid I'm not strong enough to get it myself yet."
Spotting the tray in the corner, Trowa did as he had been asked. He kneeled beside the mattress to place the tray on the captive's lap. The man smiled. "Thank you," he said.
The man ate silently and slowly. Handling the utensils seemed to be difficult for him and he often stopped eating to take deep breaths. As he ate, more color seemed to return to his face and by the time he was done, his eyes were fully opened, instead of half closed as they had been.
"Dorothy won't come back for another eight days," said the captive, placing the tray beside the mattress. Immediately the tray disappeared. "You need to leave the palace before then."
Trowa shook his head. "What do you mean?"
"She'll know you were here and she'll kill you." The captive sighed. "You helped me and I don't want you to die for it."
"Why are you here?" Trowa looked at the long chain attached to the collar on the man's neck. "Why are you bound like this?"
"It's been so long since I've seen anyone other than Dorothy." The captive moved his hand slowly, letting it rest on top of Trowa's. Trowa just looked, unable to pull away. "It's good to hear another voice." He smiled and Trowa saw how the sadness disappeared for a moment. "Thank you." The man lay down on the mattress and closed his eyes. "It was nice, even if it was only a dream."
Not really knowing what to do or say, Trowa only caressed the man's hand and whispered, "at least tell me your name."
The words were mumbled and soft even though Trowa heard them clearly. But it was impossible. Quatre Raberba Winner was dead.
* * *
Day Three
Trowa stood in the east tower, staring down at the city. It looked beautiful. He was too far up to notice the children crying in the streets because they were hungry, or the Sorceress' soldiers destroying people's homes while supposedly looking for rebels. From this height, the city was just a collection of houses and streets and the people were invisible. Maybe that was why the King could sleep soundly at night; he was completely blind to what was happening to the city he'd once loved.
Far in the horizon Trowa could see the mountains and the huge house on top of one of the hills. It had been the Winner house before, but it was empty now. The Winners had lived in the mountain village. Their house was huge because the family was very large but also because they gave shelter to anyone who needed for as long as it was necessary. The few villagers that had come to the city after the Winners left, told that there were never less than one hundred people in the Winner home, and they were all treated as if they were Winners themselves.
It was the death of the Winner heir that changed it all, not just for the mountain village but for the whole kingdom as well. Quatre Raberba Winner was the first person executed by the Sorceress. As many other nobles, Quatre had been commanded to assist the wedding. The wedding festivities had lasted three days, and on the night of the third the Sorceress had announced that the Winner heir had tried to assassinate her and had been executed for his treason to the kingdom.
The Winners had accused the Sorceress of lying, and as a result she refused to return the body and burnt it. That's when the Winners had packed up and left. They refused to live under the Sorceress' rule and headed to the desert where they had family. The villagers were encouraged to go with them and most did. The few that didn't came to the city, maybe hoping that things would change someday.
If the captive truly was who he claimed to be, then he had been locked in that room for a little over a year. Why would the Sorceress hold Quatre and not kill him? Was there something she needed from him? Was she in love with him? Trowa shook his head. The Sorceress wasn't capable of love.
He spent his shift looking at the mountains and imagining Quatre there. If he really was the Winner heir, he would have grown up in the hills. The children of the villagers always told stories of the forests, the threes and how things were green and beautiful in the hills. They liked to play make believe games, imagining that they were back in the mountains playing, instead of in the cold dirty city. Trowa used to listen to them; they gave him hope.
After his replacement arrived at the tower, Trowa headed quickly to the servant's kitchen and grabbed his ration of bread before heading to the dungeon. He hadn't bothered to replace the lock yesterday. He had believed Quatre when he'd said that the Sorceress wouldn't come. He was about to open the door, but instead knocked on it and waited.
There was no reply so Trowa knocked again. He was about to knock for the third time when a voice said, "who's there?"
Trowa opened the door a little, but stayed outside the room, giving Quatre the chance to look at him. As before, a candle illuminated the room and Quatre was sitting on the mattress, a book in his had. Quatre gasped when he saw Trowa and whispered, "Maybe you are not a dream."
"Can I come in?" asked Trowa.
"Um... yes." Quatre closed the book on his lap and put it beside him.
Trowa walked inside, shut the door and moved closer to Quatre. He sat down in front of Quatre and waited.
Quatre moved a hand towards Trowa, tentatively, as if he was expecting to encounter nothing but air. When Quatre's fingers touched Trowa's arm, Quatre smiled. "You are real."
Trowa couldn't help but return the smile. "How are you today?" he asked.
"Less tired," replied Quatre. "I can stand up now but I get dizzy if I'm on my feet too long. I'll be fine in a couple of days."
"What happened to you?"
Quatre shook his head slowly. "You are the first person other than Dorothy that I've seen in so long, and I don't even know your name, or how you found me." He took his hand away from Trowa's arm. "I guess I should start. My name is Quatre and I'm a prisoner. Who are you?"
Trowa wanted to inquire more but he knew that he had to give some information about himself before Quatre trusted him enough to say much more. "I am Trowa, and I'm a guard."
"No, you are not." Quatre's voice was soft. "That's what you are pretending to be, not who you are."
"Are you a psychic?" Trowa's voice was defensive. No one had ever been able to see through his masks before.
"I'm an empath," replied Quatre, his voice still soft, "but I can't read you right now." He gestured with his hand to the collar around his neck. "This prevents me from doing anything magical."
Empathy was a common ability. Many people had it but it wasn't very useful. Getting a weak sense of someone's feelings was considered little more than good intuition and it certainly wasn't a dangerous ability. There was no reason to restrain an empath like this. "Is that all you are? An empath?"
Quatre laughed. It didn't last long and it was a bitter laugh. "Those were the first words Dorothy said to me. Maybe things wouldn't be like this if…" He trailed of and made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "There's no use in asking what ifs. So, Trowa, who are you?"
Deciding to take the risk, Trowa said, "I'm a rebel. I'm here trying to find a way to defeat the Sorceress."
"Yes," Quatre nodded. "That's why you are in the palace. But why are you here?"
"I saw the Sorceress in the dungeon two days ago and decided to follow her. She led me here. Why are you here, Quatre."
Quatre sighed. "I'm here because Dorothy needs me. She knew I would never help her so she found a way to get what she needed without my cooperation."
"What would the Sorceress need from an empath? A Sorceress who is powerful enough to make the King do as she wishes, to defeat a hundred men and kill every single person who has opposed her." Trowa was getting frustrated. Quatre, if that was really his name, was speaking in riddles.
"Dorothy is very skilled in handling raw magic, she has always been. However, she's not a very good psychic. She can do some basic tricks like reading extremely clear thoughts or knowing when someone's lying, but nothing else." Quatre looked up at the ceiling. "She always wanted to be queen. I thought that she would grow out of it but it became an obsession. When she left for court I knew she would try to get the King's attention, I just never thought she would go to such extremes."
Trowa's eyes were as wide as plates. "You knew the Sorceress before she came to court."
"We studied together under the same teacher. She was the only other student there and my only friend for five years."
It wasn't unusual for children with high magical abilities to go study with a teacher. Most teachers wouldn't bother with someone who wasn't skillful enough and wouldn't take more than one or two pupils at a time. Magic was common and everyone had it in some degree. Those who had enough to actually be allowed to study were regarded very highly. "Empaths don't have that kind of power."
Quatre nodded. "Most empaths don't. That's why Dorothy thought I was beneath her."
"You never answered. What does she need from you?"
"I'm sorry." Quatre smiled sheepishly. "I let myself get lost in memories. Dorothy only comes here for what she needs and to gloat about her accomplishments. It's been a while since I had a real conversation." He took a sip from a cup of water that was beside the mattress. "By the time Dorothy arrived at the palace, King Milliardo was already in love."
"Lady Lucrezia Noin." Trowa said. Lady Lucrezia had been expelled from the palace before the wedding. No one knew exactly where she was now, but it was rumored that Princess Relena had gone to her after she too had been expelled, and that they were the ones really organizing the resistance.
"Instead of giving up, Dorothy gave the King a love potion, and while the King was under its influence, Dorothy convinced him to make Lady Lucrezia leave."
"The Sorceress can't control the King just with a love potion," said Trowa. Kings were born with very strong wills and they weren't easy to break. It was part of their magic. A love potion could work on a commoner, not a King.
"From then until the wedding, Dorothy gave the King many different potions to keep him infatuated with her. However, the King was building a resistance to her potions and it wouldn't be long before they proved ineffective." Quatre gave Trowa a sad look. "The wedding was also a scheme to bring me to the palace."
Trowa shook his head. "Quatre Raberba Winner died at the wedding. He was executed for trying to kill the Sorceress."
"That's a lie." Quatre looked at Trowa. "I can't prove who I am. I can only give you my word. It's up to you to believe it."
"I believe you." The words left Trowa's mouth before he could think them through. There was no reason for him to believe what Quatre was saying, but he did anyway. "Please, continue."
This time Quatre's smile wasn't sad. It felt real, as if he was truly happy that Trowa believed his words. "As a noble, I couldn't refuse the invitation. I came to the palace knowing that Dorothy was up to something, but that didn't help me prevent it. She put something in my drink and when I woke up I was here, and this thing," he glared at the chain, "was around my neck."
"Why?"
"I'm a very powerful empath, Trowa. Regular empaths can only get a sense of what others are feeling. I can feel their emotions as if they were my own, and in addition I can make them feel things too."
Trowa glared. Projective empathy was a myth. No one had even heard of someone with that type of ability. Not even strong telepaths could make people feel things. Talking in someone's head was one thing but making people feel emotions that weren't theirs wasn't possible. If that kind of power existed, then people could be controlled like puppets, like… like the Sorceress controlled the King. Trowa moved back. "You are responsible for what's happened to the kingdom?"
Quatre lowered his eyes. "Yes." He was silent for a moment and then he looked at Trowa in the eyes. "You said you came looking for a way to stop the Sorceress. If you really want the King to break out of her hold, then kill me." There was no fear reflected in Quatre's eyes. "Kill me and the kingdom will be free."
Trowa stood up and his hand moved for his sword. Quatre noticed, smiled, and lowered his head, waiting for the blow. Instead of the sword, Trowa took out a small dagger and dropped it on the floor at Quatre's feet. "Do it yourself," he said, and left the room, not looking back.
* * *
Day Four
Trowa couldn't sleep that night and spent the whole time guarding the south garden, thinking of Quatre. He had seemed so determined, so sure when he had asked Trowa to kill him. Trowa didn't want to contemplate the possibility, but maybe Quatre had gone through with it.
Quatre had seemed like a nice person and Trowa had immediately taken a liking to him. Learning that he was the one responsible for the Sorceress' control over the King had made Trowa furious. He felt betrayed. It made no sense; he didn't know Quatre, so why would he feel like he just lost a friend? Still, he hadn't been able to kill him and now he kept hoping that Quatre hadn't taken his own life.
A question kept repeating in Trowa's head. If Quatre was helping the Sorceress then why was he locked in that room? It was certainly better than the cells in the dungeon but it was still a prison. Quatre couldn't leave; he was trapped there and had been for a year, completely isolated from the world, except for the Sorceress' visits. He was chained to the wall, a chain that prevented him from doing any magic.
Trowa almost dropped the sword in his hand with the realization. If the chain didn't let Quatre use his empathy, then how was he controlling the King?
He didn't even stop for food this time and just ran to the dungeon as soon as his shift was over. He slammed the door of Quatre's cell open and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the other man sitting on the mattress, eating, with the dagger beside him on the floor.
"If you hadn't run out yesterday," said Quatre, "I would have told you that I can't take my own life. Dorothy made a binding spell after I tried to starve to death."
There were many different things Trowa wanted to ask Quatre but the first question that came to his mind was, "Who brings the food?"
"Dorothy made a spell. The tray fills itself every time I put it on the floor. It always reappears filled in the corner. The same happens with the water in the basin." He put the tray in the floor and it reappeared filled in the corner. "Dorothy can't afford for me to die."
"Why do you want to die?"
Quatre stood up and walked to the corner. He picked up the tray and brought it to Trowa. "Sit down and eat. You look hungry."
Trowa didn't take the tray. "Answer me."
"I will" Quatre said, "if you eat."
Trowa sat down on the mattress, his back to the wall, and took the tray. Quatre remained standing, leaning on the far wall. "Shouldn't you sit?" Trowa asked.
"I have some energy today," Quatre said, but then he let himself slide down the wall, and sat on the floor. "I guess I'll need it if you want me to explain."
"Why do you want to die?" Trowa repeated.
"I don't." Quatre looked around the room. "I can't leave this place, and as long as I'm here Dorothy will continue ruling the kingdom. I'd rather die than be responsible of more deaths."
"How are you responsible? I thought you said you couldn't read me with that collar."
"I can't. This thing seals my magic. I can't do anything, I can't feel anyone." The last words sounded almost desperate. Heero had once told Trowa that the whispers in his head didn't bother him because he had always heard them. Heero couldn't imagine not hearing them; it would be as if the world was empty. Trowa wondered if Quatre felt the same, how lonely it must be to be trapped not only physically but also mentally.
"I don't understand. If you can't use your empathy then how are you responsible?"
"I can't use it, but Dorothy can." Quatre looked down at his hands. "She performs a ritual that drains me from my magic, transforming it to a crystal. She makes a potion with it and gives it to the King every night. That's how she controls him." He shifted his eyes to the dagger in the mattress. "If I'm dead, she can't make the potion and the King will be free." Quatre shrugged. "It's the only way."
Trowa had barely eaten but he put the tray on the floor and went to sit beside Quatre. "That's not the only way. I'll get you out of here."
Quatre smiled that sad smile Trowa had come to know. "Don't you think I've tried to escape?" He took Trowa's hand and guided it to the collar around his neck. "It has no lock." Trowa had already noticed that. The steal was smooth, a single piece. "I can't even get close to the door," Quatre continued. "The only time I touched it I passed out from the pain. I'm not sealed in the room by the chain to the wall or the lock in the door. Dorothy used my blood to seal me in magically."
Trowa moved his hand to Quatre's cheek. "I won't kill you."
Quatre sighed. "You should."
They didn't speak again. Trowa stayed by Quatre's side, leaving only when Quatre had finally closed his eyes and fallen asleep. Before he left, Trowa moved Quatre to the mattress, put the blanket over him and ran his hands through Quatre's hair.
Trowa dreamed of Quatre that night.
* * *
Day Five
"Is there a way to stop the Sorceress from performing the ritual?" Trowa asked. He had come to visit Quatre as soon as he was done for the day.
"I can't use magic," Quatre answered. "Once I tried to fight her but she just used a spell to immobilize me." Quatre glared at the chain. "I can't defend myself."
Trowa remembered the wound in Quatre's hand, and how it seemed to have been reopened several times. "What does she do, exactly? How does the ritual work?"
Quatre moved his eyes away from Trowa and looked at the wall in front of him. "She needs my blood to initiate it." He showed Trowa his right hand. The bandage wasn't there anymore and the wound seemed to be healing. "It's not deep. It doesn't hurt much. She drips the blood on a stone and says an enchantment." A shrug. "That's it. The magic is drained out of me and into the stone, transforming it to a crystal."
"That's why you were unconscious." Magic was integral to a person. The more they had the more they depended on it. For someone as powerful as Quatre being drained of his magic must be like being drained of his life force. "Does it hurt?"
Quatre's hand moved over his chest. He took a deep breath and then said, "It's not pleasant. I should be used to it by now…" Quatre didn't need to finish the sentence for Trowa to understand.
"How often?" Trowa asked.
"Every ten days without a fault." Quatre put his hand back on his lap. "That's how long it takes me to get my strength back."
Trowa didn't want to calculate how many times Quatre had bared the ritual. He only knew that he didn't want there to be another one. "I'll need to get you out before then. We have five days."
Quatre lowered his eyes. It was something he did every time he said something he didn't want to. "You should just leave. It's dangerous for you to stay here. She will kill you if she finds out you know about me."
With a glare, Trowa said. "I won't leave without you."
"You don't even know me." This time Quatre looked at him. "Why do you care so much?"
Trowa didn't know. He had known Quatre only for five days but that had been enough for Trowa to think of him as a friend. "I don't abandon my friends."
Quatre smiled. "Friends. I like that."
"I won't visit you tomorrow," Trowa said. Thinking of friends had given him an idea. "I have some friends in the city. I'll go to them tomorrow. I'm sure they'll be able to help us." He didn't know when he had started to think of Quatre's captivity as their problem, but it was, and they would solve it together.
"I'll miss you." Quatre said. "Just be careful, Trowa." He frowned. "You never told me your last name."
"It's Barton."
A smile appeared on Quatre's face. "Come back to me, Trowa Barton. I'll be waiting."
* * *
TBC
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Date: 2005-10-02 12:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-04 09:04 am (UTC)I'm glad the feeling of the dungeon is transmited and that you like the world I created. ^_^
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Date: 2005-10-28 12:34 am (UTC)Eek! Sorry! Finally I'm starting Indweller! I have to admit that I debated over this a while. I don't normally read AU fics. *hangs head* I know! It's one of those strange quirks of mine...like no threesomes, no incest, no Mpreg fics...
But once in a blue moon I might venture to try one. ^____^ Er...but only AU. I have not tried - and not likely to try - the other three. ^____^
Indweller has such a wonderful fantasy atmosphere. Just the kind of fiction I like. I like your details...makes for a really vivid imagery. Very nice.
Now on to the next chapter!
no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 11:03 pm (UTC)