Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Good day!

Some time ago I decided to write a fantasy fan-fiction with no real plot in mind except for what came up in as I went along. Having returned from a trip to Europe and did some scoping out of castles and such, I decided to use some of the info here and add a light fantasy feel. No wizards in here yet, but that's not my job anymore ;).

After several years, too many plot thoughts, and a few moments of no-thoughts-at-all, I have decided to abandon the piece myself, but would hate to lose everything I wrote to dwindle in my hard-drive. I've decided to post it all here as open content, or "creative commons" if you like that term better. The community at large is free to copy, quote, modify, tweak, or otherwise make use of the incomplete work to do whatever they like with it. I only ask that the works that spawn from this piece are posted on AoO as well, because sharing!

Not all chapters are complete, but I'll put them down as I proofread and edit as necessary (nut's to that!). Many ideas I had never made it into the actual work. I'll add footnotes as I go to explain where certain parts were going (maybe), along with a list of things that just never got around to happening (also maybe). Characters listed in the tags are those that have actually made a written appearance so far.

I feel deceitful for only posting an introduction with no content yet (except for minor edits right now), but I didn't particularly want to squish this into authors' notes.

Cheers!

Chapter Text

"Introductions"

Zechs Marquise and Treize Khushrenada walked briskly through the market stalls, or rather, Treize walked briskly a few steps ahead of Zechs, walking half-sideways to converse with his lagging friend. Zechs walked slightly behind with a detached stride, and an occasional glance to acknowledge that he heard what his friend was saying.

"Zechs, I suppose if the weather were anything less than it is you might have a passable reason for the expression on your face – and only because I am your friend. Why do you insist on not enjoying yourself?"

"Because I do not wish to encourage my ‘friend’ to involve me in further excursions of leisure when he knows perfectly well that I have things to do."

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

Zechs cracked a smile on and followed Treize through the conglomeration of tents and people until they reached an area where merchants and couriers were unloading imported goods. Treize immediately walked over to a specific blue tent among the livestock traders. Zechs recognized the merchant as someone Treize had dealt with on several occasions, and watched as the two exchanged a friendly greeting. The merchant was quick to disappear between the tent flaps and then pin them back so that the two men could freely enter - and admire - the animal inside. It was a horse of moderate size and fine features: likely an eastern breed than anything that might be considered local. Such animals were not unheard of in the Western nations, but were exceedingly rare.

"What do you think?" Treize held his hand out in offer of appraisal.

Zechs thoroughly considered the horse: a blood-bay mare; black running up her legs, mane and tail. She was handsome, with a short head and long neck on a fine, sturdy frame. Her ears curved and leaned towards each other so the tips nearly touched. She was definitely exotic looking, and it was definitely Treize.
"You have already purchased this horse."

It should have been a question but Zechs knew his friend too well. Treize nodded in confirmation. "And you still desire my opinion then?"

"Of course!"

Zechs eyed Treize for a moment, analyzing his amused smile.

"I think you have another fashionable showpiece that you don't need."

Treize smiled and threw his arms out wide in a helpless expression, before clapping one hand on Zechs' back. "I know," he started, "I know, you are too correct. That's why she's for you."

Zechs blinked away an expression he hoped didn't look too stunned. Shaking his head, he turned directly to face Treize.

"I have a horse already, a good one too, I don't need another. Besides, it's too generous an offer for me to accept, it much have cost you no small amount to get her here."

"Zech, you have a warhorse and he's hardly appropriate for riding."

"I like Tallgeese."

"And he's a splendid destrier that rides like a camel in peacetime. Come and see this horse move, I swear to you you'll not find a better gaited horse anywhere else and believe me, I have looked." Treize motioned for the merchant standing to the side to take the horse out on a line and trot her around so that Zechs could see for himself. The horse moved smoothly, kicking up dirt as it turned in quick and nimble circles.

"Now be polite and accept my gift so I know you appreciate the effort I spent finding a riding horse good enough to bear the mighty Prince of Sanc!"

Zechs put a hand to his face and fought off rolling his eyes. Treize was always poking fun at him for his lineage. Men from the north were said to be large and imposing, not to mention battle-mad. The truth was Zechs was only taller than Treize by about an inch and carried a few extra pounds of muscle with it. As far as lust for battle, Zechs could be a little more persistent than was healthy but that was about as far as it went. Sanc itself was only marginally larger than the duchy of Oz, which was held by Treize. Trieze had been remarkably tight lipped about his own heritage, owning up to only his inherited position as duke of one of Argo's five duchies, so Zechs had little ammunition to strike back.
He looked back at Treize who was holding the lead to his new horse. Zechs sighed, then took the rope.

"I suppose this also means you intend to take another trip within the next few weeks?"

"As it so happens..."

Treize left the sentence unfinished and ran a hand through the horse's mane. "Her name is Epyon."

"Eypon," Zechs repeated to himself and ran a hand over the horse's forehead.

"Now if you're in the mood to indulge me further, would you join me at my estate for a drink? I have some opportunities I would like to discuss with you before you return home."
Treize was careful with his choice of words.

Zechs nodded, "Once my business with Weyridge is complete."

They made plans to meet up later in the evening of the following day. Eypon watched the two men with indifferent brown eyes. Her ears, however, were pointed in the direction of the movement on the outside rear of the tent.

0000

Ouch. Dammit, it's here somewhere.

Duo crouched down as he inspected the trampled dirt and mud around the outside of the merchant's tent, hunched low and nearly on his knees. "Dammit. Way to go, Duo. You couldn't have dropped it on the cropped grass?" Duo whispered harshly to himself as his gloved hands filtered through the muck. A glint in the sunlight caught his attention, right before a very large hoof set down on it, attached to a very large workhorse.

"Hey, move you big lug!" He shoved his weight into the beast who appeared have no further interest in moving his feet, and leaned its weight slightly against Duo's efforts to push. Duo stood and glared squarely into the eyes of the workhorse that looked half-asleep.

"Alright, time for a new plan." He hopped the fence out of the paddock and hunted down what long grass he could find growing in the vicinity of the livestock. "Here boy! Tasty, come and get it." He leaned over the fence and waved the grasses around in what he hoped was an appetizing manner. He was rewarded with a couple steps and a long stretch of the horse's neck, but the offending hoof moved just enough that Duo could snatch the fistful of dirt beneath it. He sifted through the dirt in his palm. "There's you are." Between his thumb and forefinger he held a fine gold ring. He flicked it up in the air and snatched it back to place in his pocket. "Let's not lose you again."

There was a loud rapping on the fence, and Duo turned to see an irate merchant scowling at him. He shouted something in a language Duo did not understand, but assumed the gist to mean "go away."

"See? You got me into trouble," he announced to the dozing animal before hopping the fence again and walking back around the tent in which he had previously seen a very fine horse. He rounded the tent to see the retreating backs of two nobleman, one with long blonde hair and an official looking red coat, foreign from the look of it; the other with auburn hair and the blue uniform of the regional duke. Duo smiled. He had guessed that whoever was coming for that horse would definitely be well-off, and it was well known that Duke Khushrenada's "opportunities" were nothing if not lucrative, for himself as well as the few lucky enough to secure a role. He would be sure to make himself available

Chapter Text

"Meetings"

The water was calm, barely lapping at the wooden pillar that supported the young man. His reflection was mirrored in the lake, from his fingers and palms gripping the wood to his perfectly still form as his legs stretched upright towards the sky. The boy was wearing only short, woven pants, his dark hair in a short knot at his neck. His eyes were closed, looking much as though he were meditating.

A dragonfly teasing the water and flash beneath the surface were the only warnings before the water erupted and a harpfish breached. A slight shift of posture was the only other warning before a quick hand snapped out to catch the fish by the tail and smack it against the wood pillar. The boy dropped the fish back into the water and replaced his hand on the flat of the pillar. He didn't even open his eyes.

The water rose in waves as another person came to visit the young man standing on his hands. He stopped to admire the posture of the youth. Giving a satisfactory nod, he turned to look towards the end of the lake, surrounded by forests of rough, reedy trees. “The master wishes to speak to you today, Wufei.

“About what?” He asked, hoping his excitement did not show through his stance. His arms were tired, and the last thing he wanted was to end up bruised and wet. There were more than one pillar protruding from the water to accidentally fall on.

“That is between you and him,” the man said, but followed with a large grin on his face. Wufei had opened his eyes and now looked up at his elder, tilting his head only just enough to see him through his peripheral vision.

“Ah!” The man spread his arms out wide. “Supper!” He bent down to pick up the dead harpfish and waded back out of the lake.

Wufei set his legs down on the pillar and stood upright once again, stretching out his back muscles. He went through his exercises, but the familiar routine did not stop his heart's rapid beating. His basic training would be over. He would become a proper student of the order, soon.

* * *

“Tell me this is not just a treasure hunt, Treize.” Zechs took a sip from his glass of blueberry wine. The array of snacks on Treize's table could feed a few families for a year with what they cost. A bowl of red grapes sat next to a plate of cone nuts, assorted cheeses, and spiced meats. Zechs was cutting small pieces from a napkin-wrapped mango in his palm while he considered his friend. “You aren't hiring a team of morally dubious explorers to open old tombs on the assumption that the dead have no need of their possessions and the living no need of the grave?” Zechs looked at Treize with a crooked smile and Treize lifted his own glass before reaching for a handful of shelled nuts which he flipped into his mouth, one at a time.

“I assure you I have no intention of desecrating the resting places of the dead, but it is a shame to abandon to the past such wonders that might grace the world today, but for an accident of time.” Treize flipped another nut into his mouth, lightly chewing while he looked off into the shadows at the ceiling, and beyond into whatever future he could see for himself. Zechs was more than familiar with the expression, and he was seeing it more often.

“So what is your purpose this time?”

Treize turned back to his friend, and both men set their wine glasses down.

“You know the excavations at the Kanaksis desert, yes?”

Zechs raised an eyebrow. “Of course, but men have been excavating there for years, yourself among them. There has been little if anything of significant value found there now.”

Treize raised his hand for pause. “I'm sure there is enough there to satisfy those looking for trinkets. I have another destination in mind, but that I'd rather the common lot not know about. And I include my fellow Dukes in that statement.”

“And you would like my company?”

Treize smirked. “You aren't planning to settle already, are you, Milliardo?”

Zechs found himself wanting to pitch a few nuts in Treize's direction. “I do have a country to govern.”

“Your sister is more than capable of managing things for a few weeks.”

“You have a territory to govern.”

“Nothing that requires my immediate attention.”

Zechs raised his eyebrow. Treize sighed.

“Please Zechs. I'm not foolish enough to try this alone and you are the only one I trust enough not to abuse me with whatever information you may come across along the way.” Treize lifted his glass. “And it would spare me the lack of good company,” he finished, draining the rest of his glass. He curled his lip a little at the bitter leas, and stared into the shadows again.

Chapter Text

"Interruptions"

The Steadfast left Argo's shores for Sanc shortly after mid day. The wind had not been favourable, so the voyage was delayed while the ship anchored in the harbour to wait for better weather. Zechs stayed in his cabin to record the official results of his trip to Oz. When he was finished he was near the end of his bottle of ink and the sun was well below the horizon. Sliding back his chair he splashed some fresh water on his face from the small basin he was given and settled into bed, wearing a loose shirt and pants. He didn't like to shed everything when the potential for interruptions was fairly high. A ship on the sea was not a palace with a working staff and guards.

“Interruption” was putting it mildly. Zechs was woken just at sunrise by a sharp cry from the lookout and the rushing of feet outside. He had already slipped into his boots when there was a rapid knocking on the door.

“What!”

The door opened fast to reveal the ship's officer.

“Highness!” he gasped. “Arm yourself! Another ship is preparing to engage!”

“And you tell me now?” Zechs snapped at him while throwing his tunic over his head. It would offer a little more protection than the shirt he slept in. “I can hear them out there! How close are they?” He snatched his sword and scabbard from the head of his bed and belted them on.

“We thought we could outrun them, Highness! The ocean is clear, we have time.” The last of the officer's words were left floating in the air as he turned abruptly back to the open deck and Zechs followed.

He cursed when he saw what was going on. Men were readying cannons while others prepared to cut ropes and remove planks that made it across the gap between the two ships, and since the encroaching ship and it's crew's faces were clearly visible, that gap would be closing very soon.

The pirate ship's name read clear across the stern, Bird of Paradise. Zechs made brief eye contact with the captain who shook his head. Zechs joined the crew at the rails as the first of the boards came hammering down on the Steadfast's bulwark. Several slammed down at once and pirates surged across, some throwing themselves on deck via ropes strung through the rigging. Zechs found himself facing five pirates at once, but only two chose to engage the Prince while the other three pushed past and engaged those arming the cannons.

At least one of the men that passed him didn't make it far. He heard a grunt and a shout directly behind him, then a line of blood drops hit the deck of the ship in his peripheral vision. The sabre that flashed after them told Zechs that the first officer had his back.

The pirates facing him were armed with cutlasses, each with a basket hilt. Zechs used that to his advantage. He let his sword slide down the blade of one of the pirates, one with a rough beard jagged with hairless scars. With his longer reach he managed to dodge just beyond the blade of the second pirate. When he felt his blade connect with the rounded hilt he allowed it to bounce off and he swung with the momentum, the tip of his blade catching the pirate's arm just at the inside bend of the elbow. The cutlass dropped as the pirate's arm couldn't support it properly anymore and the pirate backpedalled and snarled through his already disfigured face. Zechs ducked the next swing and then kicked at the legs of the second man who was bringing his sword to bear. Blocking the fall of the second pirate's blade with his own, Zechs sprang up to slice the bearded pirate from the hip to his shoulder and detouring through the neck.

“DOWN!” a crewman yelled as the crack of cannonfire sounded and the far bulwark of the pirate ship disappeared in a cloud of splinters. Zechs and a few others gritted their teeth, and some made holy signs to their gods.

Epyon was not happy, and she made it known she was not happy when a great 'thud' reverberated from below deck. More than a couple of the pirates hesitated, not aware of the live cargo on board. Zechs took the moment to slice through his remaining opponent's bandoleer and belt and shouldered him over the side of the ship. Zechs groaned. He doubted even Tallgeese could kick his way through the ship's hull, but now there was very likely a horse running loose among boxes and crates that could be smashed by angry hooves, most containing goods he'd prefer not get stepped on. Not to mention, the potential harm to the horse.

Beneath the deck where sounds of battle and hard feet echoed, the mare was thoroughly not enjoying herself. In the dark she kicked about at the noises and scurrying of the few humans that remained below, making a dash for the square of light as someone opened the trap door.

Wood stairs and horses do not mix well, but frightened and angry horses tend not to pay attention to such details. Epyon hopped and stamped her way up and out of the opening, her hot-blooded build just small enough to fit, taking only the frame and door hinge with her. She exploded out onto the deck in the middle of a skirmish between some half-dozen pirates and an equal number of crewmen.

All the combatants fanned out. Once the horse was out of immediate kick-range the men scrambled to engage each other again, each trying to get an advantage on their prone or injured enemies. At least one man did not get back up, his skull cracked by one of Eypon's hooves.

Zechs kept his eye on the animal. As much as he had resisted his friend's gift, he did not want to lose a new horse to pirates or to the ocean. Pirates and crewmen tumbled over each other to keep away from the volatile mare. Years of observing horses under battle, trained and untrained, gave Zechs a fair idea of what Epyon would do next, and he had just enough time to brace his feet before she bolted through the open space between the fallen men and him. His feet held, and he prayed to whatever god was of a mind to listen at the moment that his arm and shoulder would, too. Epyon turned into the sudden restraint rather than pushing against it and Zechs was thankful, for once, of the times that Tallgeese decided to be unruly. He and Epyon might otherwise be swimming to Sanc right about now.

The captain of the pirate ship still had yet to make his way over to The Steadfast. He sat at the helm of his Bird of Paradise; his gaudy blue hat stuffed with outrageous feathers, coming from gods know where. Zechs would have loved to invite the captain over personally, but a throwing knife catching into the fabric of his shirt just against his left side reminded him that these were not moments for unproductive thoughts.

Steadfast's crew were now making short work of the planks and grapples that had to two ships wedged together. Any remaining pirates that attempted to cross did so with battered legs and knees as boat-hooks and short blades slashed at them while ropes snapped and gangways fell. One of the larger men scooped up a loose cannonball and heaved it over the side. The iron ball landed in the middle of one of the gangplanks, spitting it into two pieces and sending three pirates flailing into the narrow water below. Another fell back with a dagger in his eye, plummeting between the two ships. Those that surfaced immediately made desperate efforts to get out from between the two attached ships.

The crew worked fast to disengage, the priority being to separate and get moving again as quickly as possible. Those that were not directly hacking at the ropes and planks were watching the backs of their comrades, keeping the pirates from interfering or taking advantage of a wayward glance.

With the rope to a broken halter in one hand, attached to an arm that he was sure was barely in its socket, and an impaled pirate heaving down his sword in the other hand, Zechs opted for a change of plans. Gritting his teeth as he steadied his grip on Eypon's lead, he kicked the dead weight off of his sword and yelled at the top of his lungs, “TROWA!”

The green fletched arrows protruding from the pirates at near vertical angles showed that the absent crewman was not shirking the fight.

Epyon was now beyond sour as far as her mood went. Her willingness to flail her hooves and snap her teeth at anything that moved within reach meant that Zechs' right side was well covered, and backed against the bow of the ship as he was, he had only his immediate left and front to worry about. He swung his blade fast at an advancing pirate, catching him across the bridge of his nose and left eye. He kicked at a second man and regretted it as he nearly lost his balance. He found himself using Epyon as much for support as he was trying hold her steady. Another green arrow struck the pirate in the side of the neck.

Another cannon fired and a glob of flaming pitch sailed high overhead, just missing Steadfast's main sail. Zechs breathed a sigh of relief, one that extended into a smile of gratitude as he felt another hand on Eypon's lead and heard a soft voice muttering in an even softer language. Trowa was one of the few men who could speak the elvish tongue, and one of even fewer who had been able to pick up on the subtle intricacies of the language. He insisted it worked best to calm animals, and Zechs had long since come to believe it.

The remaining combatants on either side were equally battered by the time the remaining planks were destroyed and the pirate crew had run out of additional boards and grapples. A few ropes remained, tying the ships together but those did not stay long after shrill whistles sounded from lookouts on both ships. Crewmen and pirates both froze, and Zechs ran to the stern of the ship to scan the open water. Trowa, who had managed to coax Epyon into lying down with his shirt tied over her eyes, was looking out towards the north-east. “Here they come.”

Following Trowa's line of sight, Zechs could see what many others by now noticed as well: a procession of what looked like rolling boulders floating in the ocean. Sanc sailors called them 'Grave Whales.' They were the largest beasts to be found in the waters around the kingdom, and were well known to become agitated by the sounds of ship to ship combat. Stationary vessels would not last long.

No one needed to say anything. Before the captain could shout “cut” the men were already hacking at the remaining ropes with short blades and hatchets. The pirates aboard The Steadfast made mad leaps for the Bird of Paradise, some making the distance, some not. Those that didn't attempt the jump either surrendered immediately or fought with renewed vigor, determined fight rather than give in or drown among ship wrecks. A bump from beneath the surface sent both ships listing hard to the right, timbers groaning under the strain. Hulls banging together earned eerie moans from the whales beneath the ships. The last of the ropes snapped as other whales charged both ships, surfacing between them in a grey mass.

The shallow hull that had allowed Bird of Paradise to quickly overrun The Steadfast now worked horrifically against it. Cannons slid on the decks of both ships as they were jostled about by the pod. On the slope of a wave the Bird listed badly, pushed by the whales and the ship's own sliding cannons. Open gun ports dipped below the water, taking in the ocean. A crack in the bottom of the hull was revealed just as the ship capsized.

The Steadfast, made for stability and seaworthiness, escaped with a couple split planks in a half-flooded hull. The captain urged the ship to move with the waves until they found the wind again. The crewmen worked fast to empty the water from the hull, salvaging what goods weren't waterlogged or destroyed during the fight.

Zechs was now feeling his sore shoulder and looked for the ship's officer who now had a cut above his left eye and was missing some hair by his ear. Epyon had slid into the ship's bulwark when it listed and Trowa was trying to untangle the horse from some of the netting on deck that she had slid through. The young man looked okay save for a scratch or two on his bare back.

Zechs found the officer securing the remaining pirates and observing the men that were disposing of the dead. A look back revealed no human remains from the pirate ship so far. The whales had yet to depart but they remained clustered where the ship presumably sank. The last rogue secured, the officer leaned on the rail of The Steadfast and looked at where the other ship had gone down. He shook his head. “Bad luck to name a ship after something that has no place in the ocean.” He pulled a gold coin from his pocket and held it up. “For the ride home,” he said, and flipped it into the ocean behind him.

Chapter Text

"Homecoming and Preparations"

The palace mastiffs gathered at the door, gleefully waiting greet the person attached to the footsteps echoing just beyond. Relena didn't have to turn around to know who was coming through the door. The breathy whines and thumping of tails against furniture and walls were enough to let her know that her brother had returned. The sounds of heavy dog feet moved closer to where she stood.

“It's about time you came home,” she said, turning to find Zechs standing behind her, and wrapping him in a hug before he could do the same to her. “Are you going to tell me what happened?” Relena wore a perfectly innocent smile as she looked up at her brother.

Taking his turn to return the hug he looked at her with one raised eyebrow. “I've just walked in the door and you already accuse me of hiding things from you?”

Relena's smile doesn't waver at all. “You're shoulder is stiff and you have some scratches on your cheek.” She stands on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek before turning back to the object that previously had her attention.

“I had some trouble with a horse on the crossing.”

“You have a new one?” Relena was holding a small, formerly silk wrapped box, the wrapping of which spilled over her hands and onto the table she stood at.

Zechs all but rolled his eyes. “It was a gift.” He raised an eyebrow at the box his sister was holding.

“I have a gift too. From Sardia” The object on the table was a silk wrapped box, the fabric on the table and the inner lining draped over edges of the box. Instead of reaching into the box though, she pulled one sleeve back and revealed a bracelet of flat blue stones, polished pieces of lapis lazuli. “What do you think?” She put on her best 'enamoured princess' look and smirked as she watched Zechs try not to groan. “Don't worry. I'm pretty certain the parun is not looking for another wife. I believe that this is for you.” She reached into the box and lifted out a large piece of the raw blue stone. It was easily as large as Zech's fist and then some. It was saturated blue with light gold veins. Relena moved over to his shoulder, holding her hands behind her back. “I think it's an invitation. Not even Argo has an established supply, and you know they like blue.”

Zechs turned an eye to his sister. “And naturally they send my little sister a small gift so that she will encourage such a possibility?”

“You wouldn't consider that wise?”

“I think you enjoy the attention too much.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat came from the doorway, which was still open. Zechs and Relena turned to find the doorway plugged by the mastiffs and an individual with an armful of scrolls trying in vain to make his way past them. “Your Highness? The inventories are complete.” Zechs made his way over to the man, waving away the sea of fawn fur, holding out one hand as the dogs bumped their ways into and over each other, vying for the coveted attentions of the master.

Zechs accepted the scrolls from the man before waving him away as well, and closing the door. The pack of dogs split, some following behind Zechs, others deciding to lay about the palace. He placed the papers on the table next to the box. “I need to go tend to Epyon.”

“The horse you had some trouble with?” Zechs didn't say anything but tipped a slight smile before heading deeper into the palace proper.

“Milliardo?” He turned back at the sound of Relena's call.

“Mm?”

She held up one of the scrolls. “Some of these are wet.”

000000000000000

Wufei knelt on the solid wood floor, in front of the small square cubby that served as his personal shelf. The beige clothes he had worn for the past three years were neatly folded in his arms and he placed them in the cubby, along with his worn black slippers. A new pair of slippers adorned his feet, and he was now dressed in white pants, a shirt, and a long buttoned tunic. His meeting with the master replayed itself again in his head as he stood up from the floor and walked over to his bed.

“You understand what we expect of you.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You understand what she expects of you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you understand what you will expect of yourself?”

Wufei stared at the long box on his bed. It was made of ebony and decorated with inset bone and tusk.

“She will be your most constant companion, as sacred as a friend.”

In the box was a sword, a long, sleek and curved blade extending from a hilt wrapped in black leather and gold satin. The blade was unadorned, but shined flawlessly, a wave along the steel winding like a dragon's tongue.

“Nataku.”

000000000000000

Treize sat up once again in the middle of the night. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he reached for his bedside robe and, shrugging into it and securing the belt, walked through the doorway leading into his study. He stopped in front of a large, polished wood liquor cabinet, extracting a squat bottle of dark rum. He poured a small glass and downed it in one gulp. He let out a heavy sigh, and sat in the chair at his desk. On top, there lay a collection of papers and sketches. He purposefully pushed them away, lifting the pile and turning them upside down so the images no longer looked at him.

“I don't have time for this. It's just doubt.”

Chapter Text

Departure

Zechs looked the assembled company up and down. “A little small for what you have in mind, isn't it?”

Treize looked distracted, though Zechs wasn't sure if it was genuine or just appearances.

“Oh, I took the liberty of sending most of the expedition ahead with the supplies. My presence is not immediately required. I thought we might enjoy the scenery on our passage.”

Zechs looked over the covered box carriage that another three men were making ready. Curtains and gossamer sheets hung in the windows, likely matching plush cushioned seats on the inside, if he knew his friend well enough. A trunk was being loaded onto the back, two men required to lift it. The insignia of Kushrenada and Oz was carved into the side door. Zechs sighed. Exactly how many bandits that would scare off and how many it would draw like hungry wolves would remain to be seen.

“Far be it from you to be practical, Treize.”

Treize turned his attention from a recent messenger and smiled, unruffled as always. “Practicality need not come at the expense of comfort. You of all people ought to agree with me, Zechs? A governor's duties are never finished. A good grasp of how to mix business and leisure is required if one is to maintain their sanity.” He turned his attention back to the messenger and the missive that he brought with him. “Especially for those of us who do not have younger siblings who are inclined to do our job while we are away.”

“And that is my fault? I was starting to think that you were intentionally stealing me away from my duties for your own political benefits.”

Treize exaggerated his huff. “Don't you know me? Of course I am! Yet I hear that you are negotiating for direct gem trade with Sardia.”

“Am I?” Zechs tipped his head to one side.

Treize held up the missive, though it was too far away for Zechs to read, and raised on eyebrow. “I think your sister is getting more proficient with your signature than you are.”

Zechs chuckled while Treize folded the parchment up again, this time looking slightly annoyed. “She also knows my penchant for blue.”

0000000000

Within the cluster of people preparing for departure, Duo made himself useful securing the loads and otherwise checking the soundness of the vehicles. He wasn't about to find himself stranded because someone couldn't be bothered to check the wheel caps or mend a split piece wood. They could be the ones walking home, thank you very much. While he worked he cast an ear and an eye over to where the nobles were talking. They seemed friendly with each other. The prince appeared to be laughing about something while the duke looked miffed. Or, what Duo guessed was miffed since the Duke made good on his reputation for appearing placid about everything. He took note of the prince's apparent frugality; that being relative as his horse blanket was probably made of finer fabric then the clothes Duo had on, bringing with him only himself and a few bags that were on the saddle of his fancy horse. Duo leaned up from his inspection of the cart's wheels and stretched his back out, his long braid dangling out behind him.

“Hey!” Duo jerked behind him to see said Prince dropping one of said saddlebags onto the end of his braid.

“My apologies.” The Prince's own fountain of hair was loose, draping over his back. Duo's unabashed scowl seemed to amuse him. He lifted the bag to release the end of the braid before placing it down again and securing it to the ropes himself. “This one is a little awkward for the horse,” he said by way of explanation.

Duo absently fiddled with the tuft at the end of his braid. “Just watch where you drop it next time.”

The prince chuckled. “Not very concerned about propriety, are you?”

“I don't care who steps on my foot, I'm going to ask them to move.” He said, following up with a cheeky grin, “and if you wanted me to treat you differently you would have introduced yourself as 'Prince Milliardo' and not be lifting that bag in the first place, your highness.”

It was Zech's turn to raise an eyebrow. “It appears that the privilege of acquaintance is mine. And whose company am I appreciating right now?”

The banter over, Duo seemed slightly more subdued. “Well, you can call me Duo, Duo Maxwell.” He offered his hand.

Zechs accepted it. “Just Zechs,” was all he added.

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Treize was right, a governor's job is never finished, and three more missives arrived to ensure that the departure was delayed beyond what was fashionable. The sun was past midpoint in the sky before the wheels on the carts and carriage began their first turns. Duo perched on the driver's bench of one cart with the reins of the two draft horses in hand. Treize chose to ignore his carriage in favour of riding for the first leg of the journey. He brought his own horse up alongside Zechs and Eypon.

“I dislike travelling east.”

Zechs didn't look over but continued watching the road in front of them. “Why?”

Treize followed the path of the sun with his eyes to where it was moving further away behind them. “I always feel like I'm rushing my days.”

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Setting stuff:

Geography so far, consider Sank to be an island with the land around it forming something like a broken horseshoe. On the stubby side (the West/left) would be a cousin nation to Sank (and where Weyridge would be from if I didn't oust him from the story) and the long side (the East/right) would be the coastline of Argo. Argo has five Duchies, two most powerful of which are Oz and Romafeller. Romafeller is landlocked while the coast of Oz is across from Sank. (so if Romafeller or another eastern nation or group wanted to invade Sank, they'd have to cross Oz to do it. This makes good relations between Oz and Sank rather important.) The areas further east of Argo are disputed or (politically) unclaimed territories stuffed with nomads, indigenous peoples, and arguing warlords. Usual stuff.

Stuff: Mix of fantasy and some real life here. Historically, Lapis Lazuli had been highly sought after for gems, mosaics and such, as well as in powder form to make things like blue dye or cosmetics. In some places it was worth more than gold. This applies to this world too. Treize likes his luxuries. His bottle of Rum would be exceedingly rare and expensive because Rum is made from cane sugar which doesn't grow in Argo (temperate climate mostly) and must come from the really far south.

Chapter Text

Unwanted Guests

“Looks like we've picked up an escort.”

Zechs held back the curtain of the window so that Treize could look out at the periodic flashes of metal and horseflesh that were blinking through the trees. Oz was mostly behind them and they were now travelling the dense forested border between Oz and Romafeller. Treize leaned back and smiled. “The duke sends his greetings.” Treize seemed to find that thought amusing. “Dermail is in dispute with Noventa for the lands south of here.”

Zechs nodded. He knew about it. It was of no concern to Sanq and, apparently, of little concern to Treize, for the moment. Outside the window a line of knights passed between the trees and the open window of the carriage. They each wore a full outfit of shining metal armour and sat astride white horses, their small heads arched prettily as they bore their knights along. Zechs couldn't help but chuckle at the look of these parade worthy mounts compared to his giant, roman-nosed destrier. Tallgeese could probably run every single one of them over if he felt so inclined, and he hadn't a drop of pedigreed blood in him.

The line of knights passed the window and each lifted the visor on their helm to Treize as they rode by. Each was also wearing a brilliant purple cape, just a shade off that which was worn by royalty. Treize frowned, though Zechs doubted the knights could see it.

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Relena looked out the window in front of her desk. A stack of scrolls and contracts was sitting a little too close to her left elbow. She looked to the right and glared again at the pile of wrapped boxes, packages, and gifts that sat in the corner, her mind superimposing a bonfire over it. She leaned back in her chair and sighed, not for the first time. Reaching out with one arm she signed the parchment in front of her with a flourish and lay her quill down. She looked down at the parchment and then to the other five that already bore the Peacecraft seal, awaiting messengers to deliver them to their destinations.

Relena stood up from her desk and left the room, choosing to make the walk to the kitchen for tea rather than ring the bell cord for Pagan. The Peacecraft family had, at one time, filled most of the castle, but history had not been kind and now that she and her brother were the only ones left much of the staff had been turned over to upkeep of the castles rooms, which now acted as display for gifts and galleries, along with a few set aside for guests. Relena and Milliardo only used a few rooms each on the first and second floors. It was easy enough for them to get their own tea from the kitchen when the servants had to navigate four floors and the towers.

Relena was pleased to see the smiling face of the cook and looked over the shoulders of the kitchen staff as they prepared food and goods for storage or later use. It was hardly appropriate for the Royalty to kibitz in the kitchens but she found the processes fascinating.

Tea in hand, Relena made her way back up to her study, ignoring the pile of boxes and the stack of parchments in favour of indulging her musings, which at the moment included tying her brother to his study desk with his hair. As much as she enjoyed taking part in the governing of Sanq, pleased that both her brother and her advisers trusted her judgement enough to let her get away with it -especially with their all too often absentee Prince- she didn't want to do it all the time. She felt it was high time she had her own little retreat. She might even bribe Trieze with some Sardian lapis for good measure, once the first shipment arrives.

She smiled to herself before setting herself at her desk to continue with her parchments. She briefly considered opening one or two of the gifts that lay in the stack, possibly wares from merchants hoping to add the Royal Family of Sanq to their lists of patrons, or genuine offers of goodwill, but the possibility of being presented with another thinly veiled marriage proposal disguised as an early gift for her sixteenth birthday soured her on the idea. She had already had to endure an early morning visit from one such suitor. That was another reason she wanted her brother back on his native soil. How was he supposed to intimidate irritating young men looking for fortunes when he was two countries away? The palace mastiffs kept them outside the door until she could prepare but beyond that they weren't terribly discerning about who dropped by, and keeping one thousand pounds of dog between one and one's guests wasn't yet considered proper decorum. She had to settle for two hundred.

Quill in hand, she prepared the next parchment before looking out the window, the view overlooking the path that wound from the city at the base of the palace to the palace proper. She dropped her quill and stood to get a better look: a dark-haired individual in light clothing was slowly winding his way up the path.

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The trees were still around them and the expedition had to travel almost single file as they followed their path through the wood. Zechs groaned and Treize laughed as the two of them heard another snap and a thump, meaning Epyon had divested herself of another rider via low-hanging branch.

“You knew about that little habit, didn't you?”

Treize's eyes were focused on the game board between them. “The merchant might have said something.”

Zechs didn't bother to acknowledge the mild amusement behind Treize's tone, and merely glanced back at the game board, plotting his next moves.

Eypon came loping past the carriage window, another rider tumbling from her saddle, this time by means of an arrow in the back. Zechs' hand was reaching for a weapon while Treize braced his hands against the walls of the carriage as it came to a sudden halt.

Chapter Text

Diplomacy

Wufei looked up at the tall, square spires that topped the Castle Peacecraft, unimpressed with the excess. The castle was old though, new areas branching from the original piece like an aged tree, so in a way it had roots, and those roots had been there for a long time. For his sensibilities it was adequate.

The ship ride to Sank was long, and Wufei learned rather quickly that he had little taste for being on the water, and spent much of the voyage meditating in an out of the way place on deck, examining the steps of his journey from his small bunk, or working with his sword where any space permited. Nataku hung from his lift hip, swaying easily as he walked up the pathway, the upward slope making the castle seem all the greater in stature for it's position at the top. For Wufei, the Sank castle was the first and so far only stop on the journey his teachers had sent him.

From one of the high windows, Relena watched the newcomer as he stopped and appeared to consider the castle. Abandoning her desk and the stack of gifts, she walked quickly through the study and receiving rooms searching for Pagan. She found him already in the foyer.

“That eager to be away from palace duties, Princess?” Pagan was refreshing a vase of wildflowers. He had his back turned to her but she imagined he could sense her slight blush anyway. She pushed it down quickly.

“See to it my brother takes his turn, will you?”

“Of course.” He turned to her and she could see his smile from the shape of his mustache. “And you might make things easier on yourself by not insisting on welcoming everyone that comes to the door. It's hardly typical for a princess.”

“True, but even so I should like to greet him personally.”

“Very well, your highness.”

000

Wufei waited patiently while the door was opened, openly surprised and unamused when several black muzzles shoved their way through the opening door to inspect the stranger, trailing no small amount of tan coloured dog hair in their wake. Wufei scowled down at the dogs, which in turn looked up at him and backed away obligingly, but still making a perimeter around their princess who was waiting just inside the door. It was an old man, however, that initiated the introductions.

000

With his hands to either side of the carriage, Treize looked through the window, keeping his head mostly clear of the opening. He cast a sidelong glance at Zechs. The Prince's weapon was held steady just three inches out of its sheath. Outside the window, three men on horseback stood a respectable distance from the carriage, though the body of the passing rider lay on the ground, ragged breathing causing the arrow in his back to quiver. That there was no further fighting meant that either these men had allies that had already subdued the rest of the caravan, or the back of the line did not yet know what had happened. Or both.

“I suppose I should see what they want.”

Zechs eyed Treize for some moments. “Insisting on introductions?”

“They likely know me. It's only fair that I make their acquaintance as well.”

000

“The library?”

Relena looked up from the letter Wufei produced from a pocket inside his shirt.

“My teachers believe that some of our people once existed here. I am charged with finding out if this is true.”

“Your ancestors were here?” Relena's eyes were wide, the girl obviously fascinated with the idea. No such things were yet mentioned in Sank's history books.

000

The horseman appeared little surprised when the carriage door opened and the Duke of Oz stepped out. Treize remained standing on the step with the door open, giving enough of a boost in height so as to meet the mounted men eye to eye. He scowled slightly when he noticed the right front wheel of the carriage was splintered, the horses huffing and tamping their feet but so far refraining from bolting. He looked back to the men sitting on horseback, the nearest one standing center between the other two wearing a too self-satisfied smile. “Gentlemen?”

000

Relena stood outside the library door, which was slightly open, watching the dark haired man as he sat at one of the tables, leafing through book after book, delicately setting some aside and perusing the pages of others more thoroughly. It wasn't long before a kitchen maid appeared with a cup of tea in hand, prepared for their visitor. Relena quickly moved to take the cup and saucer from her hand.

“Thank you, I'll take it to him.”

“Yes, highness.”

Relena carried the tea into the library and set it down on the table where her guest sat with his neck craned over on open book, a few more set in a neat stack beside him. He acknowledged with a 'thank you' and the briefest glance and a nod. Relena leaned over with her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand, watching Wufei. If he was bothered by her gaze he didn't show it, sipping his tea and remained reading the book.

Maintaining his focus was never difficult, but after a few minutes Wufei was starting to find the girl's persistent presence annoying. He gathered from his wanderings that the attentions of the nobility was something to be appreciated, and that is was probably best to make some attempt at reciprocating.

“Is there something you wish to ask me?” Relena stood upright again.

“I've never seen anyone with eyes like yours before. Can you see anything special? Like spirits?”

Wufei looked at Relena with one eyebrow raised and gave an indignant snort. “All my people have eyes like I do. Why would I be able to see anything other than what the rest of us see?” He took another sip of his tea. “Do your people routinely curse each other because your eyes are sky-coloured? That must bring incredible misfortune.”

Relena found herself uncertain if she had just offended her quest or not, but couldn't help a small chuckle at herself for his last comment. Her brother had told her of how some people in the far east would not look him in the eyes.

“I suppose I should know better. My brother told me how he was once refused red wine, because the people feared he would mistake it for blood, and go berserk.” Relena added, in a quieter voice. “His friend told him he wasn't missing much. Apparently the wine was terrible.”

This time Wufei did smile a little.

Chapter Text

“Interesting”

It is true, when one is rich and in a place of public importance, and when travels openly displaying wealth and a station of public importance, it inevitably attracts two sorts of people: the brave and the stupid. Treize was still considering in which category these three horseman and their noisy followers belonged. Treize was a fencer and politician, he did not make his name in the arts of stealth or subterfuge of the physical kind but even he was able to hear the painfully loud scrapings of underlings and thugs as they moved themselves into positions about the halted train.

He lifted one eyebrow, I suppose this might turn interesting.

Stepping out of his carriage he grabbed his sabre that was always slipped to the side wall of his carriage, just beside the door. Sitting down with a sword was most impractical and he would not be without it.

“Gentlemen.”

He stopped, causing some uncertain glances to appear on the previously smug faces of the horsemen as the seconds ticked by. He heard the quiet “snick” of the opposite door latch as Zechs made his way out of the carriage. The center horseman spoke first.

“You do honour us Sir, we are the poor people of this region that make this wood safe for such esteemed travellers as the Duke of Oz. I trust your journey through these woods has been unhindered?” He accented his words with wide gestures and a theatrical edge to his voice, never once losing his smile.

“The journey has been pleasant, up until now.”

“That is well then, It would not do for trouble to beset such a lofty person! Would you be willing then, to give us a contribution for our efforts, that you may continue to receive safe passage?”

“There was a time when a good deed was done for the sake of honour and chivalry, and that is what I offer you if you leave now. I don't with to become pressed for time.”

The smirks immediately returned to the faces of the horsemen. They were of the stupid.

Treize could hear the shifting movements of the rest of the thug gang. He rested his hand over the pommel of his sabre, and flicked off the tie with two of his fingers. He put one heel on the open doorway of the carriage. He decided he would wait a few more moments to come up with something possibly else interesting before moving on overtop of them. He decided to wait until the count of three. Unfortunately, Duo only waited until the count of two.

000

Wufei closed his eyes and rubbed at his brow. He was always scholarly by nature and could spend hours in libraries but he had to admit to himself that he needed a break from the ponderous books and papers that filled the overlarge shelves around him. Princess Relena and the man he now knew as Pagan, the master of the household, had given him leave to explore the wing on his own and he decided that now was a good time to accept the hospitality.

For the size of the palace, servants were sparse and Wufei found the solitude to his liking as he paced around in the corridors, appraising his surroundings. The Peacecraft Palace had quite an eclectic collection of items, some from cultures that Wufei was familiar with, others he had yet to encounter. He stopped when he came to wide, long hallway, it's walls covered in paintings and portraits. The images depicted the history of the royal family of Sanc, and Wufei examined each curiously as they started with painted carvings of men with long, braided hair, great swords and shields in their hands, dressed amply in the fur of wild animals, to smooth skinned individuals dressed in silk, swords worn but sheathed at their sides.

In with the regal portraits were dramatic depictions of deeds and stories from Sanc history: an ancient king facing off against a great serpent that looked to be part of the storm clouds that surrounded them; a queen wielding an axe before a line of suitors; a young man in layers of silk with one hand on a pale-eyed eastern lion...

“Found the gallery have you?”

Wufei turned to see Pagan standing not far away, a slight smile curving his moustache.

“Sanc cares about it history.”

“The people care about their pride and their land. There are other rooms dedicated to the common people and our way of life.”

Wufei examined a smaller portrait that could only be of a young Princess Relena, smiling widely and holding her hands in front of her. He looked over the other portraits briefly before speaking again.

“Where is the Prince?”

Pagan turned and pointed to a painting high on the wall behind Wufei. “A gift from his grace, Duke Khushrenada of Oz.”

The painting depicted another long haired man of pale complexion – likely as strong in Sanc heritage as the dark, angular features among Wufei's people – perched high behind the shoulders of a raging white dragon. The dragon was nothing like the graceful, sinuous creatures that Wufei's people held in such high regard. This one was thick and heavy and screaming ferocity. Wufei wondered what sort of person the Prince of Sanc would be.

“The armour is in a small display in the armoury by the stables. Would you like to see it?”

Pagan still wore that slight tilt in his moustache when Wufei turned to look at him. Looking back at the painting he focused on the brilliant red armour that Prince Milliardo was wearing. It did not appear to be the rumoured dragon scale set that was typically attributed to him. He lifted one eyebrow.

“I believe I would.”

Chapter Text

Downtime

The expedition was behind schedule, but not by much. Treize wanted to be clear of the disputed territory before stopping to make proper repairs to the wagon and carriage so the past few days had been slow moving. Now at the outskirts of the forested lands, Treize decided on a particularly picturesque and somewhat sheltered area in which to make the necessary repairs and get some rest. He now sat upright in a small tub of treated wood, pouring steaming water over his head while he scrubbed at the side of his neck with a bit of sponge.

“You do take your bathing seriously, don't you Treize?”

Treize glanced over his shoulder just enough to see Zechs walking up the small pathway behind their camp, his hair dripping wet, wearing only his boots and a loose pair of trousers hanging precariously off of one hip. He had brought a towel with him but water from his hair still dripped in streaks down his bare chest and back. “Not all of us feel it necessary to make do with the river, Zechs.” Treize extended one long arm to rub at a kink in his shoulder blade, the water lapping just midway up his chest. “You know Zechs, some habits of yours do come frighteningly close to barbaric.”

Zechs smirked, and wrung his hair out again before walking over to where his tent was set up. Epyon was tethered not far away and the mare put a nose to his shoulder as he passed by. He reached a hand up to rub her cheek and noticed the mangled state of the rope. “Nice try, but I don't intend to have to chase you down again for a few days at least.” Epyon seemed indifferent to his comment but lipped a little at his hair. “Hey!” He snapped. “That, is off limits.”

“How about a favour for someone who can sympathize?”

Zechs turned to see Duo standing a few feet away, leaning up against a tree. He looked like he had also taken advantage of the proximity of the river. His hair still hung loose and wet and the thin vest he was wearing was sticking to his torso.

“Problem, Duo?”

Duo sighed, and held up a part of his hair that remained matted and stuck together. “It still won't come out” he huffed.

Zechs hung his towel over one of the tent lines. “Why don't you just cut it?”

Duo crossed his arms and immediately looked sour. “I'm not going to dignify that with an answer. I thought you'd be the best person in camp to ask, unless that immaculate hair of yours comes from some special princely charm or a gift from the fairies.”

Zechs raised an eyebrow, but entered his tent and waved Duo in after him. “Come in. I have something that can help.”

Duo followed the prince into his tent, somewhat disappointed when he saw only plain walls and a bedroll and furs. Zechs sat cross-legged and rummaged through a small pack while Duo set himself nearby.

“You were expecting tapestries and silk pillows?”

Duo turned back to Zechs, who was smiling slightly, and shrugged. “Royalty, you know? Can't help but be curious how the other half lives on occasion.”

“Mm.” Zechs produced a small leather pouch, just about the right size to hold a couple small vials. “No charms I'm afraid.” He held out a small vial towards Duo, looking at him seriously. “An ancient secret recipe passed down through Sanc nobility. I assume I can trust you with it?”

Duo took the vial, and looked at it carefully. It contained a gritty, oily liquid that immediately assaulted Duo's nose the instant he brought it close to his face.

“Ak! This stuff reeks! You're joking, right? You want me to put this in my hair?!”

Zechs' creeping smile earned him a semi relieved scowl from Duo. “You are joking.”

“About the ancient recipe part, yes. Unfortunately, not about getting the sap out.” He handed Duo a small and very fine toothed comb.

“I'm not sure I like your sense of humour,” he said as he accepted the comb and began to gingerly work off the lid off the vial. From the small leather pouch, Zechs pulled another vial, larger and filled with a honey coloured liquid that he began to comb through his own hair.

“We don't have fairies.”

Duo looked up at the comment. “Huh?”

“In Sanc. We don't have Faeries.”

“Well, what do you have?”

“Trolls.”

000

Duo couldn't stop himself from snorting in disgust at the smell every once and a while, but with gentle teasing the matt was coming free. “Hey, this stuff really works. So what is it?”

“Just some extract from one of Sank's more rampant growing ferns. It works on just about anything.”

“I've never been to Sanc. I've seen plenty of Oz and Romafeller though. Those were Duke Dermail's men back there, weren't they? They sure have lousy timing.”

“Very.”

“Hey, may I ask you something? It's just you and your sister, right? In the family?”

“Yes.”

“And you're the eldest?”

“Yes.” His hair nearly dry, Zechs switched from his comb to a broad brush of boar hair.

“Then why still call yourself a prince? Why not go all the way and be King?”

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Chapter Text

Eligible Bachelorettes

Relena sat heavily on the first comfortable looking chair she could find, her hands habitually folded in her lap but her fingers were wrapping around each other into knots before she wrung her hands out again and stood up from her seat, stomping across the room with as much force as her slippers could manage. The dogs raised their heads and wrinkled their faces but otherwise left their princess alone.

“Tea, princess?”

Relena, in her relentless pacing, had failed to notice Pagan entering the room and promptly withheld a breath before sitting, hands folded, on the chair again, eyeballing the latest stack of letters and wrapped gifts in the corner of the room. “Might I have something stronger?”

“And, perhaps, an hour without company?”

A few of the mastiffs glanced up with somewhat worried expressions on their faces. Relena rubbed one of the animals on the top of its head with her slippered foot. “That would be appreciated. Thank you, Pagan,” He nodded and she added hopefully, “and send someone to fetch my brother?” The stream of suitors had grown thicker of late, and many of them had now taken to bringing female relatives to introduce to the princess as an excuse to make a return trip. Said relatives certainly did not seem bothered by the idea at all, but Relena was going to seriously consider throwing something potentially breakable out one of the towers' window if she had to listen to any more questions and talk about her brother: her tall strong, valiant, proud, modest, pretty, handsome, beautiful, commanding, self-sacrificing, intelligent noble, mysterious, charismatic, tantalizing, esoteric, sublime, romantic -where they were getting some of these adjectives, Relena hadn't a clue- big brother. There was no stack of gifts for him. Just streams of well wishes, regards, compliments and more thinly veiled proposals of marriage entrusted to his dear, darling, sweet, sophisticated, charming, pleasant, delicate, dependable, devoted, ever delightful, long-suffering, quiet, gentle, pretty, little sister to pass on. Perhaps she would throw those outside a tower window.

Pagan didn't comment about the possibility of sending someone after the prince, but did return with tea. He found Relena staring at the pile of gifts and letters that she had let stack up over the past several days. He had just set the cup and saucer down when the princess looked up, an unreadable expression on her face.

“Pagan,” she started, still in thought. “Would you please ask one of the seamstresses for a box of pins, and find a map for me please.”

“Any particular geographical area?”

“The largest one you can find. Just the national boundaries will do.” She raised her eyes to him and they had a hint of mischief about them.

Outside the room, Pagan shook his head. Relena might lament the absence of her brother at times, but for the staff at least, Relena did a fine job of substituting, whether she fully realized it or not.

Chapter Text

Too Many Days

Said Prince of many names and not quite enough hair to tie through the knot-work of his throne was currently riding fast over the countryside, Epyon flaring her ears to the side and kicking up a great cloud of mustard coloured dust. The expedition was long out of the forest and was now travelling through the eastern regions of Medi. Treize could tell from the dust trail that his friend wasn't exactly taking the most direct route back to the caravan. The landscape consisted of low, rolling hills, some blanketed with bright crops and vineyards, Yellow houses with mossy patina sat surrounded by the perpetual autumn colours of the grasses, weathered fences, and tall, narrow trees. Watching the return of Epyon and her rider in the distance, Treize noted that if his fair-complexioned friend were to fall off of his horse he might not be found again.

Treize turned his attention back to the caravan while his friend zig-zagged his way towards them.

“You certainly didn't get me a leisure horse, Treize.”

Hearing his friend's voice behind him, Treize turned to see Zechs walk Epyon up to the caravan where men were making efforts to make themselves busy or, forgoing the effort, just leaning up against the stationary carts and wagons. Even Duo lay stretched across a load, his side and elbow propped on a few boxes and his head cradled lazily on his palm. His eyes were open though, and he watched the exchange between the two nobleman with an ear habitually used to picking information.

Treize was surprised to note his friend was panting, and Epyon wasn't fresh as a daisy either as she picked her way over to the water troughs. Zechs snatched a bucket off the ground and promptly doused himself with the water before too many horses had gotten to it. Treize merely stood and looked bemused and Zechs let him wait while he wrung the excess water out of his hair and shirt before giving his “report.”

“The town isn't far. It's a fair size; smith, woodworkers, a few shops. There is a pubic house run by two women, seem nice. They'll be expecting us.”

“I'm sure they will,” Treize said with a wry smile as he noticed the faces of several men perk up at the word “town” and several more at the word “women.”

“Alright.” Treize merely had to give a particular wave of his hand and the crew began to strap and rig the horses and carts for one more leg of travel, once more eager to do so.

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Relena was sitting back with her cup of tea, the last of the pot, when Pagan returned to see to his princess. On her face was a content, nearly smug smile as she looked out the window. On the desk the map she had requested was now stuck with a multitude of pins, one for each gift, each proposal, each letter, each wish, adulation, salutation, sonnet, invitation, inquiry about the weather, and remark upon per person. Some countries were more inundated with others as to be barely seen on the map but for their vague shape in a forest of pins.

“A productive afternoon, princess?”

Relena turned, her smile even brighter. “Yes Pagan. She put her teacup down. I've decided that, since I am soon of age where I am eligible to seek a husband, I shall begin to entertain suitors.”

Pagan's eyebrows went up in some shock, which only turned Relena's smile into a meaningful grin.

“Starting,” she continued. “with them.” She put her finger square on the map, an island country to the south east where not a single pin was to be found.