The Blood of Peace
First Movement, the Second Part: Allegro
Heero looked over himself in the mirror. The morning was almost gone and yesterday's conversation with his father was still sitting heavily with him. Whatever his father's motives were for trying to marry him off so quickly, he did not question them any further. If Odin thought it was good for the kingdom, then he had a good reason to think so. If anything, Heero respected his father's decisions and the wisdom behind them. Still, Heero could not appreciate the clothes forced onto him by his father. Heero really liked his green tunic and black pants. They were serviceable and comfortable. These fancy clothes in blue and gold did not suit him very well. Hell, his jacket looked like some overzealous five year old went to work with a gold crayon on blue paper. The laces on his neck frothed over and his pants were too tight. And every goddamn thing was blue and gold. Heero felt like an idiot. How was he supposed to not embarrass his kingdom dressed up like one of Sylvia's dolls? That thought brought a grimace to his face. Heero bravely faced the mirror once again, looking at his face for obvious signs of disdain. Not a trace. Good, at least he could act like he had some shred of dignity dressed like a peacock. His dark brown hair was still messy looking (much to Sylvia's dismay) and his eyes were hooded and insulated his emotions. Heero was ready to meet these people Odin had so carefully selected.
The room was spacious and red. Red was definitely not a good color for receiving first time guests to a castle since the four boys in the room felt as if they were in a slaughter house and they were the cattle. The four boys looked at each other, at the unpleasant décor, and at each other again. By silent accord, all sat down around a table and decided to ignore the sheer redness of this disturbing room. There would have been more silence if the boy in black had not taken the initiative to speak.
"Well, I guess we are the four advisors to Prince Heero, ne? I mean, why else would we be here, staring at each other funny and wondering about the horrid little, I mean, large room we got locked in? Damn, can you believe the tasteless decorator who went to town in this room? Maybe he was knifed down and the other rooms might actually look nice, not like nightmare of the week room, depressing, disturbing, disgusting, dis-"
"Do you always talk so much?"
The talking tornado turned his eyes to the one who dared to cut him off in the middle of his alliterative tirade. The speaker was a rather slender boy with short blond hair and aqua green eyes. Innocence seemed to pour out of him but that couldn't be right. No one in this room should be innocent. The tornado instantly zeroed in on the blond and thrust out his right hand. Swinging his long brown braid behind him, he peered with his violet eyes through messy brown bangs.
"Hey man, I'm Duo. And yes, I always talk this much, if not more. Would've kept going if you hadn't interrupted me. What's your name?"
"Quatre. Quatre Winner. Nice to meet you, Duo-san." Quatre piped up with his friendly voice and demeanor. Innocence was positively gleaming off of him and the halo of blond hair didn't do much to dispel that image. The two boys shook hands and grinned at each other. Duo liked Quatre immediately. They were going to get along just fine.
"So, what about you two? Got names or just want me to make something up for you?" Duo's little statement, and the latent threat of name calling, made the black haired boy with dark eyes speak up rather quickly.
"I am WuFei. And I would prefer that you didn't call me anything other than that."
"WuFei? Well, good to meet you too man. I wasn't really serious about that making up names thing if you're sensitive to that kind of stuff. I mean, it's not like I was gonna call you Boy with Really Tight Ponytail or Guy Who's Looking At Me Like I'm Deadmeat or anything." Duo smirked at his own little joke but WuFei was not taking the joke well. He was actually glaring at Duo and his left eye was twitching. Good thing the guy with the long bang and one green eye spoke up before Duo said anything more offensive.
Not a man of many words. But it still got Duo off of WuFei's case.
The four boys talked to each other, speaking of small matters like the weather, the castle, and their favorite foods. Duo actually did most of the talking with Quatre interjecting now and then. WuFei was still steaming a bit from the name calling session and Trowa just didn't speak more than three words at a time. Still, it seemed that the four boys were getting along just fine. To this friendly (or not) atmosphere, Heero walked in. Immediately, four pairs of eyes darted to Heero. They took in his clothes, his face and his demeanor quickly but Heero still felt like they were staring too long. Ignoring the discomfort of being the center of attention, he walked forward and sat near the boy with the long braid. However, before Heero could get a word out, Duo spoke up.
"Hey! You must be our dear prince Heero. How are ya doing? I'm Duo, the blond is Quatre, the unibang is Trowa and the other one is WuFei. We're your companions and brothers for the rest of your life. Nice to meet you, Heero-san."
Heero stared at this loud mouth boy who called himself Duo who had stopped speaking. Heero could only despair to think that this boy would be an actual part of his life. The rest of his life. If there was a hell, this boy must be its personal emissary.
"Yes, I am Heero. Please, just call me Heero, no appellations of any kind are necessary. After all, we're to be brothers, are we not?"
All four boys nodded in assent and the introductions began in earnest.
The blond named Quatre began with his cheerful smile and gentle voice.
"I'm Quatre Winner. I am your Master of the Secrets."
Master of the Secrets. Yes, that would make him an empath. Quatre was the one who would be his diplomat, advisor and confidante.
"Trowa Barton. I am your Master of the Whispers."
The uni-banged boy spoke with a fluid and firm voice. So, this tall, lanky boy was his Master of the Whispers. His spymaster, infiltrator and informant.
"I am Chang WuFei. I am your Master of the Sword."
Heero trained his eyes on the boy with his black hair bound into a tight pony tail. He sat rigidly but comfortably, the grace of a swordmaster evident in his stance. So he would be his bodyguard, training partner and teacher of weapons.
Wait. Heero looked incredulously at the braided idiot who had a penchant for his own voice. No. It couldn't be. But…
"Yep, that's right! That leaves only me. Here I am, Duo Maxwell, your Master of the Assassins. How's that for an introduction?"
The grinning fool. He's the Master of the Assassins? This chatterbox with the long hair would be his personal assassin, his shadow and his most valuable political asset? Odin must have lost a screw in his head to have chosen this one.