Adult-FanFiction.org : Gundam, Beyblade, DBZ, FMA

A Matter of Good Sense	By : Michalyn Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 4852 -:- 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
- 1
- 2
- 3
This
story is dedicated to Lili for her kindness and her wonderful support. Thanks
so much, my dear!

I make no claim to any of the Gundam Wing characters. This story is written
for my, and hopefully others' enjoyment and not for monetary profit. A huge
thanks to Diane and Anasazi for the beta.

A Matter of Good Sense

By Michalyn

Chapter One

Wufei rapped on his father's door. As he waited to be admitted to King Zechs'
chambers, he stared at the door's old, dark wood. There was a nick near the
knob, and Wufei could not help smiling as he probed it with his fingertip. Tomorrow,
he would be eighteen; yet, it seemed he had carved that little wound only a
sunrise ago.

It had been his twelfth sun-cycle and
he had just received his first sword from his father. Wufei remembered how proud
he was of the little weapon. He had immediately challenged his father to a duel,
and of course, was beaten quite soundly. Back then, his temper could rival any
dragon's and in his frustration, Wufei made a reckless jab at the King. His
father managed to dodge the attack, but not before his right arm and the door
would bear the marks of the encounter. Wufei had been so ashamed of his actions,
that for days afterward, he sulked about the castle like a whipped pup.

Those bouts of passion were like a dream
to Wufei. Had he really ever felt so intensely? He had been a child then, with
a child's impatience. He had not known that discipline was a balm and solitude
its agent. His days were now so placid, so pleasant.... The very fact that they
were unremarkable was a joy to him. What more could he want? Between his job
and his studies, life was perfect. Wufei was content.

"Come in, son."

Pulled out of his musings, Wufei stepped
into his father's chambers. He bowed. "Father…."

"I have told you to stop that ridiculous
bowing! Leave the stiff-necked formality for the sniveling bastards out there.
You're my son, for goddess'--"

"Did you want to discuss the Almir
treaty?" Wufei produced a square of parchment from his pocket. "I
have made revisions...?"

"Humph!" Zechs surveyed him
critically, “And must you wear that priestly garb? It's an injustice to
your coloring. For example, you would look magnificent in that russet silk the
Duke of Almir brought on his last visit to the court. Let me have my tailors
fashion something for you."

Wufei tamped down a spurt of annoyance.
He hated these moods of his father's, when he seemed intent on condemning every
aspect of Wufei's lifestyle. Wufei pressed his lips together. He knew where
it would lead and it was an insult -- this talk of flamboyant clothes and equally
frivolous parties. Perhaps Quatre had enjoyed such things, but they were not
for him. His life was one of devotion, not excess. Wufei met his father's glare
with a sharp look of his own. "To my knowledge, a lack of russet silk has
not impeded my abilities yet."

Zechs growled. " It always has to
be a fight with you. Why can't you be like the other boys your age? Drinking,
sporting, carousing...? Not cooped up in some dark corner with musty, old, books."

Wufei blinked. He was stung, but he forgave
it; his father meant no harm. It was best to wait, for whatever rage had seized
him to subside. Wufei rose from his seat. "Obviously this is not the best
time to discuss the Almiric treaty. Shall I call again, later?" Wufei turned
to leave.

"No! Son, wait...." Zechs' voice
faltered. "Trey of Rossetti has asked to perform the life-mate ceremony
with you."

Wufei stilled. His heart beat very hard,
very fast, and the blood pounded in his head until he thought the roaring in
his ears would deafen him. "What? Surely you jest...."

A spasm ran through Zechs' features. He
looked at his palms and sighed.

To Wufei, he suddenly seemed old and very
tired and for the first time, he noticed the grey at his father’s temples
and the lines around his mouth that was once so sensual. It saddened him in
a way he had not expected. The pain of the moment was intensified. He was losing
so much, so quickly....

"I've tried to prepare you, but you're
so damned stubborn ... just like your mother was."

"But...." Wufei' fingernails
bit into his palm and the desperation in his voice was clear even to him. "My
sixteenth cycle has passed. I want no suitors."

How could this have happened? After all
his hard work … his studies … his plans to become an instructor at
the temple.... Surely it was a nightmare of some kind. A tremor coursed through
Wufei. He was not one to show such weakness, but the situation was impossible.
He hurried to his father's side and grasped both of his hands.

"Please Father; tell me you are not
considering this."

“Now Chang, this is entirely unlike
you--"

Wufei clutched at his father's broad fingers
as if they were his only anchor in the universe. Oh, it was a blow, and he more
the fool for not seeing it coming. It, hurt, it hurt ... a betrayal so deep
... and from his own father.... He breathed deeply, fighting against the pain
that was buffeting him in waves. He managed to hold his gaze steady ... to look
into the blue eyes that had once seemed so compassionate. Wufei's fists clenched.
"Is this some type of punishment?" he demanded, voice tight.

Zechs' brow creased in confusion, "Punishment?"

"Yes," Wufei answered coolly.
"Has my work displeased you?"

"Displeased me? Goddess, no! I value
your opinion over all others, my son, and I realize I've grown to assume that
you would always be at my side," Zechs rubbed at his eyes, "but that
was wrong. I am your father, and I must do what is best for you. You know that
as the second son you cannot inherit the throne," he sighed, "and
I know Quatre would share everything in the kingdom with you as if you were
his twin and not his younger brother, but it is better for a man to have his
own wealth and a mate to share it with."

"But Papa--"

"I met this Trey once during the
holy pilgrimage to Aidah." His father's deep tones regained their conviction,
and he smoothed his robes. "He is a strong man. A third son himself, everything
he owns has been bought with his own sweat. The emperor is a powerful man, Wufei.
It would serve Eires well to have such an ally. More importantly," Zechs
offered Wufei a tremulous smile. "I believe he will be good to you."

"I care nothing for this man or his
wealth--" Wufei's eyes closed. "Please, Papa...."

Zechs held up a warning palm. “It
has happened later than I expected, but I should have known it eventually would."
He reached over to remove Wufei's glasses. “You try very hard to hide behind
these--" he indicated the small frames, “and those awful clothes,
but you are passionate." He smiled sadly when Wufei tried to deny it. "No,
you are no child of Satur." The king nodded as if confirming it to himself.
“Quatre has said as much and I have seen it for myself. You are just too
mule-headed to admit it."

Beyond pride or propriety now, Wufei knelt
at his father's feet. "No, Papa, you are wrong. My life is here
with you, don't you see?" Wufei shook his head. "I would not be happy
with a mate -- even the priests would tell you so. I was not made for l--l--loving,"
he stumbled over the improbable notion. "I am content with my job and my
books."

To Wufei's horror, his words only seemed
to further ignite his father.

"Damn it! Do you begin to disobey
me?" Zechs shouted. "I'll have no more of this nonsense! I see now,
how I've spoilt you by allowing you to do as you please -- keeping your nose
buried in those cursed books when you should have been out with other boys,
acting your age and not like some old miser! His fists clenched. "And I
was the biggest fool of all, letting Shinsen O and his cronies have more control
over my son, than his own father." Zechs' hands were trembling, and there
was a wild look about him, that Wufei had never seen before. "When your
mother died, I promised I would give you the best life possible, and you won't
get it by becoming a recluse in this castle." He jabbed a finger in Wufei's
direction. "You will marry Rossetti because I say so, god
damn it! Is that not part of your duty as well?"

Ah, so that's how it was going to be....
Wufei rose. He felt strangely empty, like all the softness in him had been scooped
out, leaving only a hard knot where his heart had been. The parchment with his
revisions to the Almir treaty lay on the floor near the hem of his robe. It
had fallen from his hand when his father had given him the news. Now, Wufei
picked it up and crumpled it beneath the heel of his palm.

"Please forgive my insubordination,
milord. When shall I expect Emperor Rossetti? I will need to prepare my things."

"Fei, please...."

Zechs hurried over to Wufei and his father
moved to embrace him, but Wufei stepped away. He kept his voice firm. "If
you'll excuse me, there is much I must attend to." Goddess it was too much!
To be sold like so much chattel ... Wufei raised his head, fighting so hard
against his tears that his throat ached. He was despised throughout the kingdom.
Why should he have expected any different from his father? Had he really expected
him to accept him as he was -- to understand?

"My son!" Zechs cried hoarsely.
He grabbed Wufei's wrist, and pulled him to his chest, but Wufei remained rigid
in his arms. He would not yield.

"Please ... I do not mean to hurt
you," he stroked Wufei's hair. " I only want what is best for you,
and I know this is right." His father pulled back to stare at him.
"This is obviously a kalan mating." Zechs forced Wufei to meet his
eyes. "That is the only objection I will permit," he said softly.
"If you would prefer a female mate, you must tell me now, but I believe
I have chosen correctly." He searched Wufei's features. "Is this so?"

Wufei felt the blood rush to his cheeks
at his father’s frank assessment, and some distant part of him was amazed
that he still had the energy to be embarrassed. He was tempted to deny it, but
his honor would not permit him to. "Yes," he answered in a small voice.

"Good," Zechs sighed. "When
you were younger, you seemed attracted to that rake Maxwell. Not exactly my
first choice, but I had hoped ...." His father squeezed his shoulder and
there was a plea in his eyes. “Rossetti is a good man, Fei -- a strong
man. You need that: someone who can match you inside and outside the
bedchamber -- who will give your body pleasure and respect your soul. You close
yourself off so tightly from everybody...," Zechs expression was very sad.
"I tried my best, but I made too many mistakes. I didn't see it before
it was too late. Wufei, you need to enjoy life -- not stifle your passions
to fit some religious mold." His father's blue eyes were sharp. "Have
you even had a man?"

Wufei gasped. There was no doubt his face
was fiery now. Not only was his father hurting him, he was determined to humiliate
him as well. Wufei felt physically ill. He recoiled. "Please," he
made a chopping motion with his hand, "no more of this ... talk!"
Wufei's voice was savage. "I get the point."

"Why?" his father was equally
fierce. "There's nothing unnatural about it. Damn these hypocrites for
making you ashamed of your own body!"

"Stop!" Wufei was trembling.
"No more.... Please." He took a deep breath. "I will do
my duty; that is all you should concern yourself with."

"Then ...," Zechs still looked
troubled, but his eyes grew bright with hope. "You will try -- for me?"

Wufei nodded.

"Thank you my son," Zechs' voice
was gruff. His eyes shone with unaccustomed moisture. "If you cannot abide
him, I will request a severance of the bond -- Rossetti be damned -- but I could
not sleep at night , without having at least tried...." He took Wufei's
hand once more between his. "You understand, don't you, Fei?"

"Of course ...." Wufei looked
away. He pulled his hand from his father's. "Tell Rossetti I accept his
offer."
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

A Matter of Good Sense