by Anne Olsen
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I promise to return the boys in one piece, more or less, when I'm finished, but hold no liability for any broken bones or psychological trauma sustained by them in my fiction.
Thanks: To Bast and Hex for beta reading. Also to Anon, Windsor and Jessica for their support and fic stalk...er...encouragement.
Shortly after they'd left, Trowa had experienced a strange tugging sensation at the edge of his mind, a sensation that seemed to ebb and wane. Several times he'd turned, certain that he'd heard Quatre calling, only to notice Duo staring at him. Duo had said that Quatre's kind forged a strong empathic bond with their mates once they became pregnant; could it be possible that one of the reasons why was that so each would be able to track the whereabouts of the other?
Deciding he couldn't afford to dismiss the idea, Trowa had closed his eyes and, focusing his thoughts on his missing husband, tried to work out what direction gave a stronger sense of his presence. It had taken several attempts to discover how the talent worked but by the time they reached the neighbour's property, the dog was no longer needed. Trowa had developed his own tracking skill.
It had then been necessary for Trowa to stop ignoring Duo's questions and attempt an explanation. Duo had nodded sagely but grown suspiciously quiet, and they'd continued on until now in welcome silence.
"I'm still finding it difficult to believe that you're able to use your connection to Quatre to track him." Duo interrupted Trowa's thoughts, his tone suggesting that he was already thinking of the research potential of Trowa's newfound ability.
"I thought you were an expert on the Solitaires?" Trowa remarked absently as he tried to focus on which direction they should be heading next.
"I am an expert!" Duo proclaimed indignantly. "I probably know more about them than anyone else."
"Why does that statement not instil the confidence in me it's meant to?" Trowa raised one eyebrow.
Duo gave him a sheepish smile. "Up to two years ago, I'd only heard of the Solitaires in the stories I'd been taught, and often stories become embellished as they are passed from master to apprentice." He shrugged. "The tales fascinated me - I've always been interested in magical talents although I never truly believed the rumours regarding the way they procreated until I found the journal."
"Legends and stories often have more of a degree of truth to them than people realise." Visualising Quatre again in his mind, Trowa focused and 'reached' for him. "They must be still moving," he told Duo. "The slower we travel, the weaker my sense of him seems to grow. Is it possible that this hunter might be working for someone else?"
"I suppose it's possible. After all, the use of the sleeping dart seems to suggest they were more interested in taking Quatre alive than just harvesting…" Duo winced apologetically, quickly changing tact. "You know this area better than I do. If they've arranged to rendezvous with a potential buyer, where would be somewhere suitably private where they could enact their transaction without being disturbed?"
"The borders of the Eastern Forest are several hours' journey from here; there's a clearing about two miles in which would be ideal." Trowa urged his horse into a gallop, and Duo followed his lead.
There wasn't much they could do before first light, even in the unlikely event they did reach their destination before morning. Negotiating the forest in the dark would be dangerous and a torch would take away any element of surprise.
Hold on, Quatre, Trowa thought. I'm on my way.
Sudden coldness caressed Quatre's cheek and, flinching under its touch, he pulled himself into a ball. Judging from the temperature it wasn't long past dawn; another whisper of wind brushed his exposed skin and he shivered.
Rough hands grabbed the collar around his neck and he was dragged to his feet. Opening his eyes, he blinked against the bright light from the open door. One of the men from the night before was staring down at him, a twisted grin on his face.
"The poor animal is scared," Mueller sneered. He gave the chain attached to the collar a sharp yank. "Not so brave now you're trussed up and can't talk, are you?"
Quatre's voiced protest came out as a grunt through the gag, and he kicked Mueller in an effort to free himself from the other man's grasp.
"Damn you," Mueller muttered, letting out a gasp of pain as he released his grip. Quatre backed away, glancing around for anything he might use to defend himself.
Mueller placed one foot on the length of chain, bent down and yanked again, hard. Handcuffs clanked against steel as Quatre frantically tried to latch onto the bars behind him with his fingers. However, it was impossible with the limited mobility imposed by his restraints and he slowly slid down the wall of his prison before connecting with the floor with a hard thump. The pressure around his throat tightened and Quatre was dragged towards his tormenter as Mueller reeled him in like a landed fish.
"Should I keep you or throw you back?" Mueller debated, dropping the chain with a clunk, as the handcuffs caught on an uneven section of floor a few inches from his feet.
Pulling at the cuffs, Quatre tried to disentangle himself to get away from the man, but to no avail. He kicked at Mueller, but the man smiled and deliberately moved just out of reach.
"Temper, temper. That's not going to make a good impression on your new owner, is it?" Mueller shook his head in mock sadness. "And don't worry I won't hurt you…at least not noticeably. Not if you behave." He grinned, stood a step closer and dropped to his knees. One hand came out to restrain Quatre's legs as he tried to kick again, and the other stroked his stomach. "I know a lot of women lose their young in the early stages; what would it take for one of your kind to miscarry I wonder?"
His hand moved up to rest on Quatre's chest. "Kick again, and I'll test that theory. Notice how you've been dragged on your back, not your stomach. Next time I might not be so thoughtful." Mueller yanked on the collar, using it to pull Quatre's head off the ground. "You're very feisty. No wonder Barton wanted to keep you for himself."
Quatre glared at him, but didn't move. The collar dug into the back of his neck, and there were black spots in front of his eyes. It would be so easy just to give into the darkness, but he wasn't prepared to give this animal the satisfaction of even the smallest victory.
The hand slipped inside his shirt and Quatre shuddered. "Why exactly was Barton so fond of you, I wonder?" Mueller chuckled. "Now you're gone he'll have to find himself another pet. I'm sure he'll thank me for it later."
No, Trowa would be looking for him. In spite of what he'd done. Quatre bit down on his bottom lip and tried to banish any doubt of rescue from his mind.
"Oh of course not, you wouldn't know, would you?" Mueller's eyes glinted dangerously. "I was the one who told Lady Dorothy where to find you. Asking all those questions last year wasn't a wise move on your part."
There had been rumours of a settlement of magical creatures in the neighbouring shire, and while Trowa had visited the market place for supplies, Quatre had taken the opportunity to ask a few questions. He'd worded the questions carefully so as not to arouse suspicion, but obviously he hadn't been cautious enough.
"And don't think for a moment that I've forgotten what you did you me last night, you little shit." Mueller removed his hand from inside Quatre's shirt and rubbed at his own neck. "Maybe you'd like me to show you just how much it hurt!" He let go of the chain and Quatre's head hit the floor with a thump. His stomach lurched again and he dry heaved.
Leave me alone! he yelled silently.
"Mueller, get away from him this instant!"
His head turning in the direction of the angry female voice, Mueller gave a sigh. "I was only having some fun," he told Dorothy. "You've got to show these animals who's in control."
"There's only one person in control here," she retorted, "and it's not you."
Jerking at his cuffs again, Quatre struggled to pull himself into a sitting position as they came free from the section of floor. He turned his head to the side, choking as the contents of his stomach dribbled out the side of the gag. He heaved again, and the bile, having no where else to go, spluttered out his nostrils. Losing his breath, he thrashed around wildly, sending Mueller sprawling in a sudden kick.
"It's all right, I won't hurt you," Dorothy's voice was surprisingly soft. "I know you're scared," she continued in the same even tone, "but I can't help if you continue to struggle."
Hands stroked his hair, and the gag was loosened. Quatre spluttered and took great gulps of air. "Water," he gasped. "Please…" His throat was dry; each word was an effort, and he needed to get rid of the awful taste in his mouth.
"Mueller, fetch me the water," Dorothy placed a hand on each side of Quatre's head and turned him to face her. "I will clean you up and allow you to drink, but if you continue in this violent behaviour there will be consequences. Do you understand?"
Quatre nodded. There was no point in arguing; he would be better off saving his energy in the hope there might be a chance of escape later. If he seemed cooperative they might lower their guard.
A cup was pressed to his lips and he drank noisily. Dorothy then moistened a cloth and used it to wipe away the vomit from around his nose and mouth. "That's much better," she remarked. "We can't have you looking less than your best for your new owner." Her tone hardened. "While Tsuberov prefers to his purchases to be alert while he carries out his initial inspection, he also understands the need to sedate dangerous wild animals."
Standing, she smiled at him before signalling Mueller to follow her. "And in the future, Mueller, remember that a firm hand and human kindness is the more efficient way to deal with these animals and ensure their cooperation."
By the time Trowa and Duo reached their destination, the sun was coming up, golden rays illuminating the canopy of trees above them. After tending briefly to the horses, they left them secured at the edge of the forest and continued their journey on foot. The clearing wasn't very far in and, unsure as to the strength and numbers of their enemy, their only advantage was the element of surprise.
"Someone's come through here very recently," Duo confirmed, as they followed the makeshift thoroughfare. "The road's not wide but it wouldn't be impossible to manoeuvre a wagon through here." He pointed to the ground and then to the bushes on either side. "I suspect it was a tight fit, but if you…Did you hear that? I'm sure I heard horses's hooves and someone cough."
"Hmm?" Shortly after they'd entered the forest, the sense of urgency and panic Trowa had been sensing had grown stronger. "Duo, I think…" His stomach churned, his surroundings spun and Trowa clung to the nearest tree for support.
"Trowa, are you all right?"
"I don't…" Fear and pain struck as one. He couldn't breath. Trowa leaned against the tree, his breath coming in sudden gasps as he struggled to fill his lungs with air. His stomach lurched again and he vomited several times.
Quatre, what are they doing to you?
"Trowa? Trowa, are you all right?" After the other man repeated his earlier question, Trowa realised that Duo was leaning over him.
"It's Quatre," Trowa explained, wiping his hand across his mouth. "Our connection seems to be growing in strength. I'm not sure whether it's because of the closer proximity or…"'
"You can feel his morning sickness too?" Duo's eyes were bright with excitement. "That's just…I can't believe it. This is the research opportunity of a lifetime. Can you imagine the potential?"
"Would it help if I threw up on you next time?" Trowa asked dryly. "Duo, my husband is running out of time. Unless you have something useful to say, please keep your enthusiasm to yourself." He took a swig from his water skin. "I'm sorry. I didn't meant to sound so brusque."
"No, I'm the one who should apologise." Duo at least had the decency to look shamefaced. "Quatre's in danger and I'm enthusing about my research. Are you feeling any better?"
Trowa nodded. "Yes." Whatever had caused the sudden surge in the link had subsided to leave him with a mere queasiness that was fading with each passing minute. He reached out again for Quatre and to his surprise felt an answering caress against his mind. A tiny smile crossed his lips as he send back reassurance through their empathic link. "We must be close. He knows I'm here." Squashing a surge of hope, Trowa turned to Duo again. They couldn't afford to focus on anything but the task at hand. "Are you ready?"
"Yes." Duo patted the blowgun tucked into his belt and grinned. "They won't realise what's happening until it's too late."
"Hopefully." Trowa gripped his staff in both hands; he didn't intend to use the bow and arrows strapped to his back unless he had to. However, as much as he disliked killing, he wouldn't hesitate to do so if Quatre's life were threatened.
Leaving the main path, they crept towards the glade ahead in silence. Pulling Duo with him, Trowa ducked behind the cover of a large bush when he heard voices.
Two men walked past their hiding place. "Bloody animal." said one of them. He was limping. "If she hadn't interrupted me…"
"You're lucky she did," the other one replied. "Damaging the merchandise lowers its value." The first man snorted but it was impossible to make out his muttered reply.
"We need to get Quatre out of there now," Trowa's voice was cold. If they'd harmed Quatre they'd have more to worry about than a limp by the time he'd finished with them.
"Just keep calm," Duo advised, placing a restraining hand on him. "This is only going to work if we have the element of surprise."
"I am calm," Trowa snapped back. "Now are you coming or not?" He shook off Duo's hand and rose to his feet. Duo sighed, took the blowgun out of his belt, and followed.
Using his experience in tracking animals, it wasn't difficult to keep several steps behind the men without being noticed. Once they'd entered the makeshift camp, Trowa signalled to Duo to take up a position behind one of the wagons, and he closed his eyes in order to pinpoint Quatre's exact location.
"Take your hands off me!" Quatre's voice was controlled but angry.
Trowa's eyes snapped open at the sound of his husband's voice and he edged closer. In the centre of the circle of wagons stood a man and a woman. The men Trowa had overheard earlier were dragging a struggling Quatre from the wagon furthest away from where he and Duo were hiding. There was a collar and chain around Quatre's neck and his arms were restrained behind him. Another yank on the collar and Quatre was brought to stand before the waiting couple.
"You were right, Lady Dorothy, he's a fine specimen." The man who spoke was older, his accent and style of dress betraying his aristocratic roots. His eyes narrowed, his face creasing into permanent frown lines. This was a man used to being obeyed.
"I am not a specimen and you have no right to do this," Quatre insisted, his eyes flashing.
"Feisty too," the man chuckled, "although he seems to be rather vocal."
"My apologies, Lord Tsuberov," the blonde woman said, giving the collar chain a warning jerk. "I'm afraid he has rather uncooperative and argumentative tendencies."
"Oh that's not a problem," Tsuberov assured her. "My trainers are very good; they'll soon teach him what is acceptable behaviour and discourage what is not."
"And who will teach you the difference between acceptable and unacceptable behaviour?" Quatre muttered.
Dorothy pulled a strip of fabric from her pocket. "Do I need to gag you again?" she asked Quatre. "Lord Tsuberov is your new owner. You would do well to remember that. Cooperate or I will sedate you."
Taking a step towards Quatre, she undid the laces of his shirt and pulled it up to display his upper body and stomach area. He stood perfectly still and said nothing. "Note the diamond birthmark," she told Tsuberov. "Normally the pigmentation is much lighter. The deep purple it is now indicates that he is with cub." Dorothy ran a hand over Quatre's chest and he flinched. "Note also the exquisite skin colouring. He and his offspring will be a worthwhile addition to your collection."
Something inside Trowa snapped. They were examining Quatre as though he were an animal at a marketplace auction. His husband and children were not going to be an addition to anyone's 'collection'.
"Trowa, what are you doing?" Duo hissed. "There's more men coming from the other wagon. We need to wait."
"Take your hands off him!" Trowa yelled. Breaking cover, he began walking towards Quatre only to be stopped by two of the men Duo had warned him about. "Get out of my way," he ordered.
Quatre tried to take a step towards Trowa, but one of Dorothy's men grabbed the collar around his neck to prevent him moving.
The men blocking Trowa's path dropped to the ground. "Didn't you hear him?" Duo asked, tucking the blowgun under his belt. "He told you to get out of his way."
Shifting his grip quickly to an underhand one, Trowa swung his staff to deliver a blow to his opponent's stomach as another man approached, knife in hand. He grunted and Trowa hit him again, this time across his hand. There was a loud cracking noise and the knife hit the ground. "Damn you," the man yelled, coming for Trowa again.
Duo's attacker brought his arm up in an attempt to defend himself after Duo delivered an uppercut blow to his jaw followed by another to his stomach. Duo ducked, kicked him in the abdomen and sent him flying. "I thought you needed some help," Duo explained, giving Trowa a grin, "as you'd abandoned the original plan."
"Trowa, look out!" Quatre's warning came just in time, and Trowa used one leg to trip the man before delivering a blow to the back of his head with his staff. He hit the ground, twitched and lay still.
"Healer Barton." The tone in Dorothy's voice caused Trowa to look up. She had one hand on Quatre's collar, a knife pressed against his throat with the other. "Put down your weapon and surrender."
"Dorothy, what are you doing?" Tsuberov glared at her. "He's no use to me dead."
"His skin is still worth a small fortune; either way I still get paid and I'm sure Barton doesn't want to take that chance. After all I believe he's quite fond of …Quatre. That's the name you use for him, isn't it, Barton?"
A noise of protest came from Quatre, and Dorothy applied more pressure to the knife. Trowa's eyes met his husband's and the staff fell to the ground at his feet. "I'm sorry, Quatre," he said.
"And your companion," Dorothy requested. Duo dropped the blowgun, raised his hands in surrender and she lowered the knife. "It's a shame you can't teach your pet the same cooperation," Dorothy told Trowa, signalling her men to restrain them.
"Quatre is not my pet," Trowa glared at her. "He's my husband." He shook off the man holding him. "You have no right to chain him like an animal, and you certainly have no right to sell him to this…man."
"Husband?" Dorothy laughed. "Come now, don't be ridiculous."
"Trowa, please…" Quatre interrupted, "don't put yourself at risk to protect me. It's not worth it."
Dorothy glanced between them, her frown turning into a slow smile. "Often the one you seek is right in front of you," she exclaimed. "Why, Lord Tsuberov, I think we might have two for the price of one." Loosening her hold on Quatre, Dorothy shoved him towards Trowa. "Just as I thought," she said, as Trowa went to Quatre's aid, and took him into his arms. "You're his mate."
"Yes, I am, " Trowa told her, "and the children he's carrying are mine." Quatre shivered in his arms, and Trowa stroked his hair and brushed his lips against his cheek to reassure him.
"No," Quatre said, "you don't understand. She thinks you're like me and wants to add you to his, " he spat the last word in Tsuberov's direction, "zoo." Pulling away from Trowa, Quatre fixed Dorothy with a glare. "Trowa's not a Solitaire, he's human." He laughed at her expression of disbelief but it was a choked noise, not the joyous sound Trowa was used to hearing. "Yes, I mated with a human. Trowa's not my master. He's my husband."
Dorothy snorted. "Prove it," she told Trowa. "Lift your shirt and show me your birthmark."
"I don't have one," Trowa confirmed. He pulled up his shirt to reveal tanned unmarked skin. "As Quatre's just told you, I'm human."
"So unless you want to be brought up on kidnapping charges, I suggest you let them go." Duo broke into the conversation. "Both Trowa and Quatre are well respected healers in this community. If they were to disappear, it would cause a scandal."
"Both?" Dorothy sounded surprised. "But Healer Barton…"
"My full name is Quatre Barton and I'm the shire healer," Quatre sounded almost smug. "Trowa is the shire animal healer. You're not a killer or a kidnapper, Dorothy. Even if you refuse to let me go, what are you going to do with Trowa or Duo?"
"I'm also sure Lord Tsuberov would love a scandal attached to his name." Duo gave a mock bow. "I know who you are, m'lord, and your position in the community, and I'm not above revealing your part in this to protect my friends."
"He's bluffing," Dorothy said. "If you go public you'll have to reveal what Quatre is. Everyone will know he's not human, that's he's no more than an animal."
"Quatre is a good man, and I love him." Trowa struggled to keep the anger out of his voice. "He may not be fully human, but he has more humanity than you will ever possess. I'd prefer to take that risk than sentence him to a life in that prison you call a zoo, or…worse. And even if others agree with you about his status, I'll claim ownership. After all you do keep referring to him as my pet. Grand larceny doesn't carry as heavy a sentence as kidnapping or slavery but I'm not above using it to place a reward on your head, especially, as you say, his market value is extremely high. Either way, you can't have him." Trowa paused before continuing, "nor can you have my…our children."
Tsuberov sounded agitated. "I can't afford to have my name attached to something like this. Next time you consider doing business with me, don't. I won't risk dealing with someone who doesn't do their research properly. Good day, Lady Dorothy." He bowed towards Trowa and Duo. "Gentlemen. Please accept my apology for your inconvenience."
"Inconvenience?" Trowa took a step towards him, but Quatre shook his head.
"Let him go, Trowa. He's not worth the effort."
"Are you sure you're all right?" Trowa asked, watching Tsuberov disappearing into the distance. "If he's hurt you…"
"I'm fine," Quatre answered. "Or I will be once I get out of these handcuffs and collar." He winced. "My arms are stiff and my neck's sore."
Dorothy was watching them with a curious expression on her face. "You really do care for him don't you?" she asked Trowa. "Doesn't it matter to you that he's not human and that your children won't be either?"
"No," said Trowa. "It doesn't." He pulled Quatre towards him and kissed him soundly, not caring who was watching. "Give me the keys to his restraints, and then we'll leave. If I ever see you in this shire again, I won't hesitate in reporting you to the authorities." Trowa paused. "Do you understand?"
"Yes," replied Dorothy, dropping the keys into Trowa's waiting palm. "I believe I do."
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