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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
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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 Two

Glossary

Saturnum: male spinsterhood

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

"Odd isn't it, that
Prince Wufei isn't up already? It's almost noon. He's usually awake before the
sun."

"Mmm hmm. I thought
it strange too. I suppose it has something to do with the news ...."

Quatre was on his way to
Wufei's chambers when he caught his brother's name amidst the murmur of conversation.
Pausing behind one of the solar's large, stone pillars, he saw the familiar
figures of Duke Sinstin and Lord Haynses. Both men were minor land-holders in
the kingdom, and were fairly popular at the court. Like most of their peers,
they were idle and spent most of their time concocting stories about those outside
their social circle. Now, clearly thinking themselves alone, they lounged in
the sun like two fat cats, their voices ringing across the room.

"News?"

"Don't tell me you haven't
heard?"

"Heard what?"

"Ahh, just the most
delicious tidbit ever. I've been around this court for a long time and nothing
this exciting has happened before. I don't know how you haven't heard -- everyone's
talking about it!"

“Come on, man don't
be a tease. Enlighten me."

"Reliable sources have
it that the dark prince is betrothed."

"What? This must be
some kind of joke. Prince Wufei, betrothed -- impossible! He's next in line
to be master of the temple. Shinsen O has been preparing him for years."

"That's what makes it
all the more delectable. After his sixteenth sun cycle passed without an offer,
I for one, was sure the case was hopeless -- after all, who would really want
to marry such an odd little fellow."

"Come on, he's not that
bad."

"Don't tell me you're
interested! Heh, are you the lucky man?

"Of course not! I was
just saying ... you know...."

"Humph! Anyway, it seems
King Zechs finally stopped indulging his pet. I hear the little newt is to be
married immediately."

"Immediately? Are you
certain? It hardly seems like the King to be so hasty."

"Well, if you were his
father, wouldn't you want to get him off your hands as soon as possible? I'm
sure King Zechs must have offered a tidy sum to convince whoever the poor sop
is to request the bond."

"Hmm ... perhaps....
I wonder who it could be."

“Me too. Since our little
prince was firmly on the path to Saturnum*, however, I doubt it would be anyone
of note. All the good ones are snatched up right away. Remember how many offers
Prince Quatre received -- some even before his majority! No lord worth his salt
would be interested in a mate so late after the fact. I'm sure it's some petty,
no name--"

"So it is a kalan mating
then?"

"Yes! And isn't that
the icing on the cake? Can you imagine? I thought for sure Mr. Prim and Proper
would be of the other persuasion."

"I suppose. I'd never
thought of it before, but now that you mention it; it does seem surprising.
Prince Wufei's not bad, but -- brr -- I wouldn't want such an icy partner."

“‘Brr’ is
more than right, my man. What I wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall in that
bedchamber! Just picture it: First of all, seeing that scrawny little body nak--"

"Gentlemen, I'm so glad
to see you keeping productively occupied."

"P--Prince Quatre!'

"Lord Sinstin, Duke
Haynses," Quatre's lips thinned and his fingers tightened around the parcel
tucked under his arm, "I trust your day is going well?"

Never his favorite on a good
day, Quatre had overheard enough of their talk to be disgusted. He was just
grateful Wufei would not hear it. As stoic as his brother pretended to be, Quatre
knew Wufei was sensitive to what others thought of him, and the courtiers' barbs
pained him. He could not separate himself from their mean-spirited talk and
often saw it as a reflection of some failure on his part. No matter how Quatre
tried to convince him otherwise, Wufei did not listen. He only retreated more
tightly into himself.

"Yes ... yes, milord,"
Haynses wiped a suddenly moist brow, "a--and you?"

Quatre smiled. "Quite
well, thank you." He raised an eyebrow. "Lord Sinstin, are you unwell?
You've become rather quiet."

"Ah ... n-no, not at
all, your highness," Sinstin suddenly produced a pocket-watch from the
folds of his robe. "Oh dear, I'm late for my ... meeting! I'm so sorry
Prince Quatre, but I must leave right away."

Coward.

Quatre shook his head. "Of
course," he turned to Haynses, "I assume you have the same appointment?"

"Me?" Haynses'
eyes met Sinstin's. "Oh ...! Yes, I do!" He bowed quickly. "Excuse
me, milord. Sinstin, wait! I'm right behind you...."

Quatre watched the two men
scurrying away and he sighed. Holding his present close to his chest, he turned
to mount the steps to Wufei's room. The runes in his pocket burned and Quatre
hoped, by all that was sacred that he was right. He could not stand it if this
Trey of Rossetti took his brother away, only to transplant him among an even
crueler court. Quatre pressed his palm against the old stones and fragments
of the vision returned to him: A dragon imprisoned in darkness ... the lush
heart of a rose ... a passion so intense that it made him tremble ... and the
midnight orchids endlessly blooming.... Quatre shuddered. He prayed he was not
leading his brother astray.

"Wufei?" he rapped
on the door. There was no response. "Fei, are you in there?" Quatre
cautiously turned the knob. He peered inside the room, "Wufei?"

"--away!" his brother's
muffled voice floated from under the pillows where his head was buried. Wufei
was curled into a little ball, amidst a mess of tangled sheets -- and equally
tangled hair. He was still in his pajamas, and his robes lay in a heap at the
foot of the bed. They alone were evidence enough of his brother's distress:
Wufei revered order, and his quarters were usually spotless.

It would have been enough,
but it was not. Like most seers, Quatre was empathic and now, the jumbled waves
of fear, betrayal, confusion -- and just pure, unadulterated pain --
radiating off his brother were enough to make him stagger. His shields always
came out a bit battered when he dealt with Wufei, because his brother felt so
intensely, but never like this. Quatre swayed and fought to catch his breath.
"Wufei-" he steadied himself and tried again, "Fei-love, l just
want to talk."

A messy head emerged from
the pillows. One dark eye peeked open and then the other. Wufei glared. "Don't
call me that!"

Ah, there was life in there
after all! Laughing, Quatre hurried to his brother's side. He placed the parcel
on the bed, "For you, brother."

Wufei sat up, his loose hair
a dark curtain around him. He eyed the box suspiciously but made no move to
open it. Wufei scowled. "Why did you bring this? You know I hate surprises."

"Move over ... come
on, don't be such a spoilsport--" Quatre jostled Wufei until they were
seated in the bed together. He smiled. "Aren't you going to open it?"

Wufei's eyes were daggers.
"Don’t think you can fool me with this act. I know you know.
Father must have told you. What do you want?"

Quatre sighed. He saw Wufei's
rumpled head, his trembling hands, his tight nervous expression and a rush of
sympathy filled him. Sympathy -- and terrible, terrible guilt... It was under
his advice their father was doing this. Despite all King Zechs' misgivings and
all his pain, he had put his faith in Quatre's gift: in the vision that had
promised Wufei's rebirth to happiness. Quatre worried his lip. What if he was
wrong? Had he misread the runes? How could he be sure?

Quatre gave Wufei a quick
hug. "It's all right, Fei. I know this seems impossible right now, but
just ... just ... trust me."

Wufei's eyes narrowed. "What
do you mean? Is there something about this proposal you're not telling me?"

"No...," Quatre
looked away. He twisted a bit of the sheet about his fingers. "I just meant--"
Quatre took his brother's hand. "Wufei, I know this is difficult and you
have every reason to be scared, but--"

"I am not afraid!"
Wufei ground between clenched teeth. He snatched his hand away. "Why would
you even think it?"

"Wufei, you don't have
to hide. I know you're hurting." Quatre pressed his hand to his heart.
"I can feel it here."

Wufei hunched his shoulders.
Always suspicious of Quatre's gift, he looked at him now, with dark, accusing
eyes. "How dare you?" Wufei's voice was so low Quatre barely understood
him. He leaned forward, ducking behind the shield of his hair. "What right
have you to pry into my feelings?" Wufei's eyes flashed. "How dare
you!"

Quatre flinched. "I'm
sorry. I don't mean to ... I just ... I only want to help you, Fei." He
placed Wufei's gift, soft and heavy in the rustling paper, in his brother's
lap. "Please, will you accept this from me?"

Wufei's eyes were red-rimmed
and bright with moisture. He gingerly fingered the edge of the paper. "What
is it?"

"The only way to find
out is to open it, no?"

Wufei made a disgusted sound,
but he began to peel the wrapping away until a delicate, rose-petal red robe
lay across his thighs. The diaphanous fabric was intricately embroidered, with
shimmering gold shot through its high collar and billowing sleeves and dotted
through each of the tiny, carefully-wrought clasps that trailed to its gilded
hem. The pattern swirled across the garment in masculine curves that contrasted
sharply with the gauziness of the material, giving it an appearance of both
boldness and fragility. It was a uniquely beautiful creation, made with obvious
love.

The nylah robes were all
crafted under the direction of Eires' priests and most powerful seers. Often
taking as many as three months to make, the robes were an important part of
a bonding ceremony. Nylah were made to reflect each partner's kinah, or true
essence and therefore much care was taken in their production. Most important,
the priests were never wrong. The styles and colors chosen were the physical
manifestation of the kinah, so as to heighten and emphasize the essence of each
partner. This ensured the melding of the essences and intensified the act of
the bond. In general, the more closely the robes complemented each other, the
more powerful and lasting was the bond.

No two Eireans ever received
the same robe, though certain hues had specific connotations. The ivory robe
was usually the mark of a stoic and practical nature, the black, of the two
faces of the noon child and Quatre's shifting aqua robes had represented the
essence of a pure and powerful intuition.

Wufei said nothing. He merely
clutched at the cloth spread between them. Silken tufts of red and gold glinted
between his clenched fingers and Quatre tensed, fearing for the integrity of
the material.

Wufei stared at the nylah
across his thighs and his fists tightened. Hot color built in his cheeks.

Rich, tumultuous red: an
intense and earthly sensuality.

Quatre grinned. "Do
you like it, brother? I hoped to give it to you on your sixteenth cycle, but
when you did not choose a consort, I despaired of you ever using it." Quatre
squeezed Wufei's hand,"I'm glad I was wrong." He heard the fierceness
in his voice, and he prayed Wufei would believe in it too. "So? What do
you think?"

Wufei flung the robe away
from him as if it burned. He rose from the bed in a storm of agitation. "I
cannot wear this!" Wufei hissed. He jabbed a finger in the direction of
the robe. "I--I refuse!"

Quatre frowned. "It
matters little whether you accept or reject the nylah. It simply is."
He looked into Wufei's eyes. "Denying it is as futile as denying your own
nature."

Wufei's eyes hardened. When
he stubbornly turned away Quatre sighed. He pressed a hand to his brother's
shoulder as he rose from the bed. "Wufei, allow me to pack the nylah in
the event you change your mind."

"I won't--"

"Please brother,
allow me this gift."

"But I don't need...."

"I'm asking just this
one thing, Wufei. Will you shun my blessing?"

Wufei's shoulders slumped,
"All right."

Quatre smiled. "Thank
you, Fei."

There was so much more he
wanted to speak of, but Quatre knew he had already asked too much of his brother.
He had known it would be a battle to convince Wufei, and so was content instead,
to choose his victories. He looked to the bright red nylah, flung out like a
fan on the bed. This was most important. It was enough.

Quatre gathered up the crumpled
wrapping. "Shall I send Trowa up?"

Wufei slunk back down into
the covers. He curled his knees to his chest. " If he wishes...."

"He does."

"Be strong, my brother."
Quatre pressed a quick kiss to Wufei's cheek. He hurried out the door, blinking
away the stinging in his eyes. He would try to do the same.

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

Wufei rolled over on the
mattress and followed a pair of buckskin-clad legs up to Trowa's face. His best
friend in turn peered down at him with disapproval.

"Aren't you going to
get up and wash?"

Wufei shut his eyes as his
head thumped back against the pillow. He decided to sleep in just one day and
the entire kingdom had something to say about it. Wufei was sick of these "well-intentioned"
lectures. What is it so much to ask to be left in peace? It was not as if he
was actually needed downstairs. Wufei's mouth tightened bitterly. Now
that he was to become the 'gushing bride' he was as good as obsolete in the
palace.

"What does it matter?"

"It matters," Trowa
yanked the sheets from the bed and began to fold them, "because Rossetti
should be arriving soon."

Wufei scowled at being so
unceremoniously roused. He sat up. "I fail to see what all the excitement
is about. I will treat this as I would any other meeting. There was really no
need to come." Wufei pushed back his hair. "Don't your animals need
feeding or healing -- or something?"

"This is hardly 'any
other meeting' and you know it." Trowa said in his quiet tones. Wufei watched
as his best friend rummaged through his closet. Trowa turned and tossed him
an outfit. "What about this?"

Wufei balked,"The white
silk? Don't be ridiculous. It's far too extravagant."

Trowa frowned "Yes,
the white silk -- and what's extravagant about it? There's only this bit of
silver trim around the cuffs and at the hem." He raised the robe to demonstrate
his point. "Simple: good, clean lines...."

"Humph."

"Wonderful," Trowa
shook out the robe, smoothing down the folds and plucking for idle threads with
nimble, sun-browned fingers -- healer's fingers used to searching among berries
and shoots for secret cures. Bright, copper hairs glinted off Trowa's forearms
as he raised Wufei's robe to the light and examined it critically. "This
should do quite well, I think."

Wufei grunted, simply watching
him. He knew he was the palace oddity, but he was always struck at what a startling
picture Trowa made with his green eyes and abundance of thick, red-brown hair.
Wufei's mouth quirked in a sad smile. They were both very different in
their own ways. Perhaps that was what first drew them to each other whether
they had recognized it or not....

What would life be now without
his best friend at his side? Wufei preferred not to think on it.

"I'm sure it's fine,
Trowa. Just set it aside. I will wear it."

"Wufei...."

"I don't wish to discuss
it, Trowa."

"That is exactly why
we must speak of it."

"No."

"Must we say goodbye
like this then?" Trowa's eyes were shielded by his long bangs, "Like
strangers?"

"No," Wufei sighed.
"Forgive me. I just --" he turned desperately to Trowa, " Not
now. It's too soon."

"All right," Trowa
nodded. "What would you have me do?"

Pointing to the glimmering
white robe, Wufei gave his friend a shaky smile. "Help me get dressed?"

Warmth flared in Trowa's
eyes. He grinned, "Of course."
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A Matter of Good Sense