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The Shadowman	By : ColdSilence Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2328 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing/AC, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Author: Cold Silence

E-Mail: writer.coldsilence@gmail.com

Category: Alternate Universe. Medieval Times.

Pairings: Revealed so far = 4 x Relena, Odin x Catherine, 5 x Merian

Warnings: Potentially NC-17, Yaoi, OOC, (I'm TRYING to keep them IC...but I don't think I've succeeded.) Death. Squick. Incest. Angst. Rape.

The Shadowman

-Chapter Thirteen-

' I knew he would hate me. '

With the renewal of his powers, Duo could have performed any number of miracles to escape from the current situation. However, he didn't bother to move when Heero lunged for him; choosing instead to stand his ground and allow himself a chance to get hurt. It was better if Heero had his way, though no amount of beating would ever purge him from the guilt.

Fortunately, Wufei had different ideas. Just as Heero surged forwards, he smoothly placed himself in front of the Shadowman and caught the shepherd's fist. After a brief struggle, the boy's arms were pinned to his sides, but his eyes continued to burn a hole through Duo.

"Take this boy to an empty guestroom and lock him in. I will deal with him shortly."

A nearby pair of guards, shocked that someone dared to attack the Shadowman, hastily recovered from their stupor and obeyed Wufei's command. Prussian eyes never left Duo's face as Heero was forcefully escorted down the halls.

When he was gone, Duo's attention then shifted to Trowa, who had been still and silent throughout the whole ordeal.

"I guess you hate me too."

Trowa regarded the other boy with an indecipherable expression. "Everything you said to us back home, was it true?"

"Yes." Violet eyes met viridian, sadness causing his lashes to lower. "I would never lie to you."

"Then we have no quarrel. Demo, if anything happens to him, I won't forgive you."

"I would never let anything happen to him!" His head jerked up, shocked that Trowa would even insinuate such a thing. The current line of conversation had the beginnings of a heated argument, but they were interrupted by the rushed approach of the Head Housekeeper.

Trowa ducked his head to hide his embarrassment when an exasperated Sally began pushing him back towards the room he came from.

"Honestly, I turn my back for two seconds and you go wandering away! Do I have to hold your hand like a child to make sure you don't disappear?"

Wufei and Duo watched with varying levels of amusement as Sally clucked over a flustered Trowa. Stoically enduring the nagging, he allowed himself to be led by the wrist down the hallway. Once they were out of sight, Duo deflated almost instantly, and his shoulders slumped with dejection.

"What am I going to do."

"You won't have to do a thing." Turning sharply on his heels, Wufei began marching down the hall in that smooth, precise walk of his in the direction Heero was shipped to. "I'll speak to the boy."

"You? You don't even know him! What could you possibly say to Heero that would make any difference?"

"Don't underestimate me Lord Duo." There was a faint trace of smugness in the Dragon leader's voice, which faded with the distance stretching between himself and the Shadowman. "I'm a man of many secrets."

"More like a man of many frustrations."

"I heard that!"

---------------------------

Upon his return to the massive anteroom, Trowa found that all the other peasants had already been assigned their tasks and were gone. Alone in an empty chamber with Sally, he couldn't help feeling exposed and self-conscious. The blonde woman left his side and began circling the room, impatient footsteps echoing and causing Trowa to wince. When it became apparent that whatever she was looking for could not be found, she let out a bellow that sent the boy's skin crawling.

"HOWARD! Get here this instant!"

Moments later, one of the tapestries were brushed aside, and an old man hobbled into view. Judging by the grin on his face, hiding from Sally was a favorite pastime of his. It was obvious by the multicolored cape, feathered hat and lyre by his side that he was a bard, but it was the seal of the eclipsed sun worn close to his heart that indicated that he was THE Royal Bard. A slight limp in his walk hampered his approach, and a foul air of alcohol permeated the room with his presence. Trowa hid his distaste behind his personal shield of hair.

"What're ya naggin 'bout now woman? Can't an ol' man have a shot o' whiskey in peace!"

"Stop talking like you haven't had a proper education all your life, Howard. I called you out here because the Queen herself has a special request."

"Ahh yes, the fair Relena." With a dramatic flair, he plucked his lyre to fill the air with sweet notes to accompany the queen's name. Ignoring the Housekeeper, his gaze shifted to the tall boy at her side. "Believe it or not sonny boy, I used to be a great man."

Trowa appeared startled, though it was more because he had been noticed rather than the bard's words.

"I used to dance, juggle, even spit fair from this very mouth. I know every trick of the trade, but these old bones of mine just don't let me have any fun anymore." Chuckling softly, the merry melody slowed to a doleful funeral dirge. "So who is this walking scarecrow, Sally? The man you hired to build my coffin?"

An amused look perused Sally's visage. "Actually, he is to be our new Court Jester."

"Jester?"

The older folks were surprised to find that it was Trowa who had spoken up, and not Howard. His face was neutral as always, but the simple fact that the quiet boy voiced his surprise said much as to what he actually felt about the topic.

"Why yes, Trowa Bloom. The Queen requests that you become her personal jester. It is a very high honor, if I do say so myself. Do you have any objections?"

Objections? Of course he had objections! He wasn't in this palace for more than fifteen minutes and already they planned to stuff him in some idiotic outfit and laugh at him. Bad enough that Alex and Mueller made fun of him in a daily basis, and now this. It was humiliating, and he couldn't even turn down this so-called offer because the "Queen Herself" requested it. He hated nobles. He hated royalty even more. However, he had no choice but to accept -- there was no place else for them to go. Not to mention, displeasing the queen was not a good way to start a new life.

A simple shake of his head appeased Sally, and Howard grinned at his new charge and tipped his hat.

"Stick with me boy, and I'll make you a star. First lets see if I can teach scarecrows how to dance! Heh heh heh!"

Sally continued to smile demurely to herself as she watched the bard teach the stable hand the basics of jester-hood. She didn't understand what was it about the boy that caught the Queen's fancy, but it was her duty to serve and obey - not to question.

---------------------------

Wufei found the double doors leading to Heero's room locked and guarded by the two sentries that had dragged him away. Adopting his usual, standoffish tone, he ordered the men to unlock the door and return to their posts.

"Lord Chang, if I may say.... The boy is dangerous."

"Dangerous?" The only change that occurred in Wufei's expressionless face was the calculated lift of a single brow.

"Yes sir. He broke his nose." The man nodded over to his companion, who tried unsuccessfully not to scowl beneath the scrutiny. A blooded piece of fabric hung from his left nostril, indicating which arm Heero had used to punch him.

Carefully keeping the mirth out of his voice, Wufei dismissed the men anyway, but not iwthout telling the less fortunate one to go clean his face. Once they were gone, he carefully edged the door open, preparing himself for any contingency such as flying debris or a sneak attack by the shepherd.

Absolute silence was his only greeting. He hazarded to open the door further, and found much to his relief that the room wasn't torn asunder by the upset boy. Everything was still in its place, almost mocking his trepidation in entering the room. He walked the rest of the way in, and quietly shut the door behind him. Mahogany depths scanned the shadowed quarters, pausing when he spotted a foot just beyond the bed.

He began walking forwards, and sure enough there was Heero on the floor, leaning against the bed frame. The boy was facing a curtained window, where a sliver of morning sunlight broke through a tiny part in the fabric and tore a rent through the darkness shading the shepherd's figure.

Something struck Wufei as odd about this picture, and soon he realized what it was. There was no grief expressed in those chiseled features. After loosing his home, his livelihood, and living the nightmare he had for the past couple of days, a boy his age should be weeping for his loss. Instead, he sat there stone faced, and silent. It was akin to watching the living dead.

Taking pains to make no sudden movements to upset the boy, Wufei settled into an indian style position on top of the bed. The indentation of the mattress caused the back of Heero's head to shift, but there was still no response; no changing of his dead expression.

Heero was expecting many things. A chastisement, a speech on how a peasant should act in the presence of the Shadowman, perhaps even a trip to the dungeon. What he didn't expect was the candid voice dredging up a ghost from the past.

"I knew your mother."

Wufei waited for some kind of response, brows knitting when he didn't get any, but he continued nonetheless. "Her name was Nataku. A great warrior of the Dragon Clan. It was she who taught me how to fight."

Wufei tried to inconspicuously peer over the edge of the bed at Heero. That one swatch of sunlight was slanted directly over his left eye, and he wondered why the boy didn't at least squint against the assault on his irises.

"Our people were cursed by the Shadowman before Duo. Anyone who willingly leaves the clan for another way of life dies shortly after. I suppose the former king thought this would keep our numbers down and make us weak." A derisive snort summed up what Wufei thought of that.

"Unfortunately, Nataku was a proud, stubborn woman. When the Dragons helped the Winners conquer Sanc; she met a poor farmer by the name of Odin Lowe. She fell in love, and she wanted to marry." Despite the pain caused by Nataku's passing, Wufei couldn't help but smile softly in her memory. "She wanted to give up her way of life to be with him. Our clan forbid it, she was too important, and our elders thought she would grow out of this strange fancy for a poor farmer."

Wufei drew to a pause, his eyes distant as he contemplated the past. "You look like her. You have your father's eyes, but the rest is Nataku. I knew the moment I laid eyes on you that you were a lost son of our clan. I'll never stop regarding our greatest warrior as anything less than a Dragon, no matter what our elders decreed when she escaped. By blood, you are also a rightful member of the Dragon Clan."

The bed creaked as Wufei changed position, and leaned over the edge so that he could look at Heero. The boy had stiffened; his fingers curled so tightly that the knuckles were white against his bronze skin.

"If you have anyone to hate," the onyx haired boy whispered, "hate me. I was the one who helped Nataku escape. Your father had a debt of honor to me because I delivered his wife. He repaid his debt by hiding the Shadowman in his home at my request. I did not think your home and life would be destroyed because of it, but in the end it was my choice, not Duo's that caused it."

A shudder racked its way through Heero's frame. His mother must have known she would die all along, and yet she still married Odin. His father knew Duo was the Shadowman, and still welcomed him into their home. They both knew the danger, but still made choices that all inevitably led to the new, empty life he was forced to face. Choices that had nothing to do with Duo.

"It's no one's fault," his own voice sounded foreign and distant to his ears.

"If that's what you believe." Thank god, the shepherd had finally given Wufei a verbal response. For a moment, the Dragon Leader truly thought that Heero had lost all his senses, but now he had hope that the boy would pull himself out of the pit he fell into.

"Come, there are chores to do. Nataku wouldn't want her son lazing about the palace with no work to do." Wufei slid off the bed, and hid a grin when Heero slowly raised himself off the ground; Prussian eyes fixed on his back for further instruction.

"One other thing, Heero Lowe." Looking over his shoulder, Wufei gave the shepherd a stern look. "Do not tell anyone what I have told you in this room. Especially Duo."

Heero returned the stern look with a milder one of his own, before bowing his head and answering in a soft voice.

"Wakari mashita." (1)

---------------------------

The rest of the day flew by quickly, and Heero threw himself into the task of being a servant completely. He was no stranger to hard work, and learning a new daily routine kept his thoughts from straying to other unpleasant memories.

After a full day of learning how to bow properly, averting his eyes from every person above his station, cleaning, fetching, sending and receiving messages, waiting on important officials and finally, lighting up every single candle in the entire castle, he was exhausted.

His heart sank upon opening the door to his new bedroom. This would be his first time sleeping in a bed that wasn't his own. Ever since the fire, Trowa and himself had to spend their nights in haylofts, alleys, or any other niche they could find. Now that he finally had a place to stay again, perhaps even call "home" someday, he couldn't help comparing it to his old room.

It was actually bigger, and made to fit two people if the extra bed along the wall was any indication. A second doorway led to a washroom, but other than that it was rather unadorned and impersonal. Since sunlight made the best wake up call, Heero automatically made his way to the bed next to the window to claim as his own.

Settling into the white sheets, he was surprised at how incredibly soft the mattress was. Closer inspection found the sheets to be made of silk, causing his opinion of how the king treated his servants to be changed drastically. Perhaps things weren't as bad as he thought....

The sound of the door clicking open caused him to drop the pillow he was holding. A lanky frame silhoutted itself in the doorway, and he relaxed upon recognizing Trowa. However, upon seeing his friend's face, he had to clench his teeth together to keep from breaking into a grin.

"Go ahead. I know you want to." Trowa stared sullenly at Heero from behind the half-mask draped over his face. The paper mache was paintd so half of a crazed grin permanently displayed itself on the left of his face. On the other side, the exposed skin was painted in brash colors and glitter; a gaudy look that was so contrary to his true personality that it was hilarious.

Unable to hold it in any longer, Heero broke into soft laugh, his nasal voice filling the once silent room. A small smile lingered on Trowa's lips upon seeing his best friend laugh again. He didn't know what happened to crack through Heero's shell, but whatever it was, he was eternally thankful for.

---------------------------

The next morning, Duo sat alone in the drawing room, dutifully shuffling through all the boring papers outlining the upcoming ball. Currently, he was going through the guest list; his nose wrinkling each time he came across a name he didn't like.

"The Duchess of Irves? Ewww! She's got a nose the size of a doorknob."

He didn't look up when a servant opened the door and stepped inside, the delicious aroma of porridge announcing that his breakfast arrived.

"Just put it on the table. Oh! The Fair Lady Gwenevere! Cute, but no brain."

The servant's tray of food was lowered as requested, followed by a bit of fumbling when the sugar tipped itself over and spilled over the table.

Duo looked up to see what the fuss was all about; usually the servants weren't so clumsy. His eyes widened at the sight of Heero bent over the tray, collecting the wasted sugar into an open palm. His rags were replaced with the usual servant's livery, which consisted of loose black breeches and a white shirt, with ruffles that spilled from his neck and sleeves beneath a matching obsidian overcoat.

"Heero!"

The boy straightened up; one palm curled inwards to keep the little grains from spilling to the carpet. He kept his eyes averted according to instruction, and responded in a dull voice.

"Forgive my clumsiness. Is there's anything else I can get you, my Lord?"

"My Lord? Oh hell no, don't call me that! Whatever they told you to do, you don't have to do it in front of me ok?" He stood up from his chair, and approached the other boy. He froze in his place with those blue eyes shifted to his; he had forgotten how they seemed to hold a kind of power in their intense look.

"You're not.... mad at me are you?"

Heero continued to stare off at Duo, before replying in an even voice. "No."

A million-watt smile displayed itself on Duo's face, and before Heero knew what happened, he had to struggle to keep from spilling the sugar at the same time he was tugged into a tight embrace.

"Don't worry Heero, I'm going to take good care of you guys, like you did for me. Where are Catherine and Odin? I can pull a few strings so that they'll hardly have to lift a finger while they're here--"

He paused in his rambling when the other boy began to stiffen. Looking down, he found that Heero had averted his gaze once more.

"They're dead."

Violet hues widened in disbelief, shock rendering the feeling in his body numb. His lifeless grasp slid away from Heero's shoulders, palms falling like lead weights to his sides.

"If I may excuse myself," without waiting for a reply, Heero turned away from the Shadowman and left quietly through the door.

Unable to stand any longer, Duo slumped to his seat, and stared off into space for a long time. As the king's Shadowman, he had to do a lot of things in his life that were neither pretty or just, but never before had he felt such guilt. Although he didn't have an active involvement in those deaths, he couldn't help picking out the things he could have done differently that would have avoided this.

He could have been less cocky in the mountain battle. He could have been more careful. He could have been more prepared. He could have left the farm sooner. He could have been less conspicuous. He could have listened to Wufei and stayed put. He could have never learned to like them.

Could have, but didn't.

Nothing could be done to change the past. His very existence wrecked their lives.

No, not just theirs. The other country folk as well. Perhaps even the entire kingdom of Sanc was tainted with his existence. Or worse, the entire Winner Empire.

He felt so dirty, and he knew with a sinking heart that he would never be able to scrub himself clean of centuries of guilt his lineage bestowed upon him. It was even a little frightening, for he began to understand Relena. But this was not a line of thought he could pursue, because he was forbidden to do so.

At the very least, he could take care of the fragments left of the pretty picture he had smashed. Heero and Trowa, in a way, belonged to him now.

He would take good care of them.

End Chapter Thirteen

(1) Wakari mashita: I understand. (I hope this is right..)
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The Shadowman