Kracken
Peonies
Taken With You
Disclaimer:I don't own them and I don't make any money off of them.
Warning:Male/Male sex, graphic, language, violence, slave situations. AU
Heero bathed with Duo, sullen and wishing that he could simply take what was
his right, Duo's body, then and there. Duo dared him, eyes sparkling, body slipping
about the water, ass and tattoo rising above the water, several times, as if
to taunt him.
"If you want it," Heero finally said, as Duo moved to sit on the edge of the pool. "Stop playing this game."
"If I want it?" Duo cocked his head to one side, his wet hair lying limply in his lap.
"You want me to try and take it," Heero knew. "You want to show me how strong you are."
"Maybe," Duo replied, but then shrugged. "Despite what you think, I don't want to hurt you, though. I think a demonstration might be enough to keep you from being foolish."
Duo rose fluidly, muscles playing under skin and wet hair swinging. He danced, only it was totally masculine, hand chopping and swinging in the air, legs leaping out and kicking, body rising and falling with the leashed strength of a panther.
"A pretty dance is supposed to show me your skill as a warrior?" Heero mocked. "I think it only shows me how well trained you are for the pursuits for which I bought you."
Duo gave Heero an angry look. "You're so confident that you know what you're seeing," he replied. "You were wrong about my tattoo. Can't you see that you're wrong about this as well?"
Heero left the water, not at all shy about letting Duo see his own strength and masculinity. Duo gave him a tense look, that was both appreciative and wary.
"I don't see anything," Heero lied, but his mind was telling him that he could have done very little to protect himself against Duo's 'dancing'. At least bare handed, he soothed himself. With a sword, he doubted any amount of footwork would keep him from killing the slave.
Duo was breathing hard from his exertions. His skin was pinked, his eyes bright with daring. He made Heero want him more than anything else in the world, but he saw the trap in that. He had already done enough foolish things chasing after a handsome ass.
"Let's eat," Duo sighed as if sensing Heero's determination not to be charmed by him. "I'll take you into the fields tomorrow and show you some of the Emperor's handiwork. Maybe then, you'll understand why we dare to fight him, with as few people as we do."
It was easy to shrug and think about the fact that all battles were bloody and that, whatever the cause, right and wrong, good, innocent people died, yet it was a hard conviction to keep, when they passed empty rooms still splattered with old blood, hacked furniture, forced doors, and the toys of children... dead children. Heero didn't want to imagine those halls filled with servants, with Castor's family, and then their murder at the hands of soldiers.
The man himself had been reduced to poverty, to stirring beans and onions in a broken pot, over a makeshift hearth, in a ruined, burned out, room."I've wine," Castor said as Heero and Duo joined him. "Drink or rest while the others clean up. It shouldn't be too much longer."
The corked jug had a bloody hand print on it, sunk into the unglazed clay. Heero gingerly voided it, but he poured his wine into a battered cup, needing it's strength. Duo took it after him, grimacing. "Catya..." he whispered and looked very sad as he poured his own wine. "I saw her room..."
Castor's jaw tightened as he nodded. "Don't ask about her end. I know she was your favorite. It wasn't... she shouldn't be remembered like that, gentle little girl...Take joy in that most of my servants managed to be elsewhere when the soldiers arrived."
Duo began to carve a small slab of pork, his knife moving with angry strokes, his face a study in throttled grief. Wu Fei soon joined him, hair wet from his bath and hanging loose. He studied Duo, as if he could read his thoughts, and then squeezed his shoulder in a comforting fashion.
"They'll pay," Duo snarled.
"We've already made them pay," Trowa reminded him as he came in with Quatre, dressed in clean tunics and carrying bedding to lay out by the hearth.
"It won't be enough until they leave us alone," Duo retorted hotly. "Not until they recognize us as men, self governing men, as much a part of this empire as a city bred senator."
"Two of you are slaves," Heero pointed out, "And all of you have rebelled against the law. You have given up all rights to any fair hearing."
"As if we would get one," Quatre chuckled bitterly. "Did my father? When all that makes life worth living is threatened, a man must fight."
Heero was handed several slices of meat on a broken pottery plate. He concentrated on eating it, ignoring them. Politics was something that he never tried to involve himself with. When he was ordered by his emperor to fight, he assumed that wiser heads had made that decision. Every man thought that his cause was just and right, and he had often been warned not to be swayed by them. That advice was hard to remember, at that moment, with a shell of a house, haunted by death, all about him, but he knew that it was still valid. These people fought against the emperor, he thought. If there were deaths, they had caused them by their own rebellion.
"Does it keep you warm?" Quatre suddenly asked, eyes catching the light from the hearth as he looked at Heero angrily.
"What?" Heero grunted, not sure what was meant.
"Your justifications for what is being done to us," Qautre elaborated. He seemed to look straight into Heero's soul, "but it's good that you're thinking about it," he continued. "That's when you start to question."
Heero awoke the next day to find Trowa sitting by him, guarding him as he sharpened
a knife on a wet stone. Everyone else was gone, breakfast laid next to a cold
hearth; leftovers from the night before.
"Quatre is readying the horses for you," Trowa explained as he stood. "Eat what you like and prepare yourself for the journey."
"Where is Duo?" Heero asked as he stretched and stood, feeling the grit of the floor on his skin.
Trowa smirked at him. "Practicing with Chang in the courtyard."
Heero nodded, ate his fill, and then went in that direction, wondering if Trowa would stop him. Trowa trailed behind him, still intent on his knife blade. The sound of blades striking made Heero even more curious.
A hall opened out into the courtyard. It was trampled and overgrown, but still serviceable to the two young men battling at it's center. Wu Fei was a calm fighter, dark eyes steady as he effortlessly turned Duo's blows. Duo was more energetic, and vocal, as he struck at Wu Fei with a curved blade. It was hard to remember that Duo was a street orphan. He was skilled and strong.
Duo broke off when he saw Heero, ducking under a blow of Wu Fei's as he stepped out of range. As that blade cut the air near his ear, Heero felt a moment of fear for him.
"Don't mar my property!" Heero barked at Wu Fei, but the man only raised a dark eyebrow contemptuously.
Duo scowled, though he didn't use his sword to threaten in his anger. "I don't need your protection!" he shouted at Heero.
Wu Fei snorted. "He just called you his 'property' and you don't offer protest. I'm beginning to suspect that you actually enjoy it."
Duo whirled on him. "If you like your manhood, you'll shut up, now."
Wu Fei looked very serious, ignoring the threat as he said, "Watch yourself, boy. If you allow your feelings for this person to influence you, you may get us all killed."
"How I feel is my business," Duo snarled back, "and the day I let how I feel change my mind, about anything, will be a day when horses fly."
Wu Fei didn't reply to that, as if it were unnecessary. "I'll be with the horses," he said."They may be flying already."
Duo glared after the man and then turned his attention back to Heero, nostrils flaring with temper. "I don't feel for you!"
Heero shrugged. "Slaves often love their masters. I wouldn't blame you, in this case."
"Arrogant bastard! Don't prattle fables to me!" Duo retorted. "Slaves don't love their masters, they don't love the people who own their bodies and do with them what they please."
Heero smiled smugly. "Even when they enjoy what their masters do with their bodies?"
The sword was never in danger of being used, but Duo looked as if he wished to. His voice went ice cold as he ordered, "Strip. Get on your knees. "
Heero glared, knowing that he was responsible for what was about to happen, but hating it all the same. He undressed, letting his tunic fall to the floor. Naked, he went to his knees.
Duo approached and stood before him, very close. "Will you love me if I order you to do as I wish?"
"If it means taking your body, yes," Heero replied stonily, eyes on the body before him, waiting.
"That means getting your pleasure," Duo told him. "What if I want only my own, and forever deny you yours?"
"There's pleasure in a great many things," Heero replied. "I'm not a woman to fear rape, or misuse."
"No?" Duo didn't like that his game wasn't having the desired effect. "Does that make me a woman, that being with you, being forced by you, made me..."
"Were you afraid?" Heero asked him seriously. "I wouldn't have hurt you."
"No?" Duo was staring down at him, anger suddenly gone and replaced by something else. "Why should I believe you?"
"You know the truth when you hear it," Heero replied. "So," he said cautiously, "Are you going to order me to do something we'll both regret, or are we going to take that ride that you promised me?"
Duo made an exasperated sound. "Get up!" he growled and Heero slowly gained his feet. "Nothing bends that stiff neck of yours, does it?"
"No," Heero replied with a little smile that had nothing to do with triumph.
"I wasn't afraid," Duo told him sharply, a finger stabbing at Heero's chest, "except where a man might fear pain."
"Of course," Heero agreed, giving him that much. "It was your first time after all."
Duo snorted. "You act as if it were a trophy you won't let go of."
"It is," Heero replied as he followed Duo towards the ramshackle stables, "and it's mine... forever."
Duo's shoulder went stiff and then he shrugged. "Lot good it will do you."
But it did do him good, Heero thought. It was an odd comfort, as if it made Duo his better than any brand.
Two black horses, one a leggy, rawboned, gelding, was waiting beside a tall, deep chested, red mare. Not the best of breeding, but they looked like they had good muscle and iron lungs. Military mounts, Heero guessed, seeing some battle scars.
"Stolen?" Heero wondered.
Wu Fei looked him over from the height of his horse and then his eyes flicked to Duo as he said, surmising that nothing had happened between them, "What does it matter? The red is yours. Your backside will soon be raw if you're not used to riding. He has a gait straight from hell."
The red wasn't used to a strong hand, though, and she was brought up short by Heero's expert grip as he denied her the bit and brought her under his control.. He was master of her gait, then, and she obeyed with only a few rebellions.
"Her name?" Heero asked at last.
"Wing," Duo snickered. "Though, it's like calling a big man
tiny. Don't expect any real speed out of her. She's lazy and bad tempered.
Duo patted his own horse, the black gelding eager to gallop and pleased to have
Duo on his back.
"He's been in the stable too long," Duo lamented as he struggled to keep the horse to a walk. "Sorry, boy. They don't let slaves have horses."
And most citizens couldn't afford them. It was interesting that Castor was able to support so many. It proved that he still had resources.
Duo tightened his reins again and his black tossed it's head irritably, wanting to be let go.
"You have to be strong, if they are to obey you," Heero told him, meaning more than horses.
"You have to be kind as well," Duo replied, understanding his meaning. "They serve you better when it's of their own free will."
"Stop, now," Wu Fei snarled. "I don't want to hear this the entire journey."
TBC
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