ladyshadowdrake (ladyshadowdrake) wrote in gw_yaoi,
ladyshadowdrake
ladyshadowdrake
gw_yaoi

Fic: Redemption 1/?

Title: Redemption

Author: Lady Shadow

Fandom: Gundam Wing

Pairing(s): 3x5, various

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fanfiction. It is based on the ideas, settings, situations and characters of the television show “Gundam Wing.” The author of this work of fanfiction neither owns nor claims to own the aforementioned ideas, settings, situations and characters. They are the sole property of the creators and owners of “Gundam Wing” and all other legal associates. This fanfiction is written for entertainment purposes only and no profit is made from the writing or publication of this piece. No infringement of any rights, copyright or otherwise, is intended. Original plot and characters are © Lady Shadow, 2009.

Summary : Inspired by LittleMouse's wonderful "WarCraft" and *posted with her permission* Wufei is a lowly tavern slave who's nothing and no one to anyone. Until one cold winter day when five young men burst through the tavern doors...</text>

Status: WIP

Series/Title/Pos? N

Sequel/Title? N

Prequel/Title? N

Warning(s) : None

Genre(s) : AU, Drama/Romance.

Author's Notes : This is a re-write of the original “Redemption,” which was not completed, but can still be found on Gundam-Wing-Universe . net. This piece is gifted, with my love, to the amazing LittleMouse.

Beta : Self

Word Count: 3115

Archive: Fanfiction.net, Gundam-Wing-Universe.net




ONE::


The bright red gnome crept across the table with a mischievous look on his twisted face, his gnarled hand held out for the dead wick of a taper candle. Wufei made a discreet shoo'ing motion with one hand and frowned at the creature. He gathered up the dirty dishes and swiped his equally dirty cloth across the tabletop. The gnome plopped down on his ample rear and glared at Wufei uselessly, his stubby arms crossed over his chest.

Wufei ignored him and moved through the tavern room quickly and quietly, doing his best to draw the least amount of attention to himself as possible. His hair fell over his face in messy tangles and the boy made no effort to push it back. It was safer this way.

“Boy!”

Wufei stilled, a fine shudder creeping up his back at the familiar voice.

“Yes, you, ya dumb shit! C'mere!”

He set his stack of plates down carefully and made his way to the small table in the far back of the inn, where the twice-married and twice-widowered farmer Stilithus sat with one of his older sons. Wufei stopped a safe distance from the man's chair and waited for orders. He did his best to avoid the tavern floor when Stilithus was in, as the man was known to be violent even when sober. Rising partially -and none too steadily- from his chair, Stilithus reached out and grabbed him by one arm, hauling him forward and pulling him down so Wufei's face was a lot closer than he would have liked to the man's stinking breath.

“More ale,” he said very slowly like he was speaking to someone who didn't speak the language fluently. "D'ye understand me?" he asked, thrusting his empty tankard into Wufei's hand. Wufei nodded quickly, holding the tankard against his chest with both hands. "Well? Git!" He pushed the boy roughly in the direction of the ale barrel in the corner and Wufei hurried toward it, briefly passing by Alork, the innkeeper, and showing him the tankard. The man glanced up and looked toward Stilithus. Wufei nodded and the innkeeper jerked his head toward the barrel. Moving quickly, Wufei refilled the tankard and returned to the corner table, setting it down and dancing nimbly out of the way to avoid a poorly aimed swat to his head.

He had just gathered the dishes again when a panting boy burst through the tavern doors, letting in a sweep of vicious icy air that cut straight through Wufei's threadbare garments and unbalanced him. A small group of sprites caught onto the teetering stack of plates and pushed them back into his arms, saving him from a bad beating. He mouthed a thank you to the attentive group and hurried through to the kitchen, exchanging the frigid winter air for the stifling heat of the cooking pits.


~*~


“You'll never believe it, sir!” the boy cried, his face flushed with more than the cold.

Alork rounded on the youth with a snarl. “What's the matter with you, Jes?! Close the bloody door! It's colder'n a witch's tit out there!”

Unfazed by the burly man's rebuff, Jes pushed the door to and danced forward, getting the innkeeper's attention again.

Sir, a Five has just ridden into town!”

Silence fell in the crowded room and all ears turned towards the young boy. Pleased to have garnished such attention, Jes grinned brightly.

“A what?” Alork demanded.

“A Five, I'm not sure what craft, but definitely a Five. I ran here as fast as I could. I guessed they'd be coming here. You think they're Seeking?!”

“In this backwater pisshole?” He snorted. “Doubt it.”

Jes deflated a little. Half the town said he must have some kind of talent, and he had been praying for the day when a craft would come Seeking and take him away.

“We'll all know soon enough,” Alork decided, dismissing the matter. He was halfway to the kitchen when the door slammed open again, filling the room with winter once more. The innkeeper turned with a curse that died on his lips as five young men filed into the room, the last shoving the door shut against the strong wind.

For a moment, there was stillness and silence. The man in front, a tall, fair-skinned blond finally stepped forward slightly. He cast a glance around the room and brought his eyes back to Alork. “We seek shelter,” he announced. His voice was deep and soft with an unmistakable High accent.

Alork jumped into action, hastily wiping one hand on his greasy apron before offering it to the stranger. The man smiled charmingly, taking his hand and shaking it firmly.

“For five?” Alork asked nervously.

“Six. Can you accommodate?”

Whispers ran through the room and Alork glanced briefly at his patrons, wishing they would all evaporate. “You have a sixth on the way then?” he prompted.

The tall blond shook his head. “We're Seeking.” His lips curled up slightly in amusement and Alork flushed, knowing his casual probing had been found out.

Behind the innkeeper, Jes' heart beat furiously. He wanted dearly to step around the innkeeper so he could be seen and maybe taken right then, but fear held him fast to his place, hidden in the corner.

“Here?” Alork asked incredulously. The stranger lifted an eyebrow and Alork cleared his throat nervously, turning an unflattering shade of red.

“Can you accommodate us?” the stranger repeated.

“There's just the one room,” Alork said, twisting his apron in one hand. “And two beds, but maybe I can-”

“That will be sufficient, thank you. Perhaps a cot?”

“We do have a few...”

“One will suffice.”

The innkeeper blushed even deeper red when he realized why six men would need only three beds and coughed to cover his discomfort.

"Why don't you take a seat? I'll have the boy bring you out food and drink and get the room cleaned up a bit." The blond nodded and Alork hurried off while the five seated themselves around two tables near the fire.


~*~


They'd barely taken their seats when a young boy approached them nervously. Quatre finally turned to look at him, smiling sweetly.

"I... uh," the boy started, then blushed and looked away. Quatre recognized the almost desperate hope in his eyes and concentrated on him for a moment. He did radiate faintly blue, but his aura was weak and didn't pulsate the way one of his Others would have. Quatre shook his head slowly, giving him an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry. It's not unfeasible that you have some talent. I'd be willing to wager water or air, and most likely a Healing, but you're not to be ours. I'm sorry, child." The boy deflated, but seemed to find some hope in the air Talent's appraisal and nodded. Without a word, he walked away, nonetheless crestfallen.

~Has he really any talent?~ his lover asked silently.

~Of course! I wouldn't lie to someone about that!... That boy used to be me, after all...~ he answered, thinking back on his own childhood and how he'd desperately wished to be Sought or apprenticed or anything to get him away from his house and his overbearing family.


~*~


“Boy!”

Wufei spun around immediately, expertly hiding the sink with his body. The same fire-red gnome was perched on the edge of the sink scorching bubbles with little puffs of flame. Each exploded bubble yielded a silent whoop and a victory dance. Wufei had been waiting for the gnome's theatrics to carry him into the wash basin, and was prepared to scoop the creature out before he could evaporate the water or, worse, damage the dishes.

Alork did not seem concerned about his slave's strange behavior though, and merely snapped, “We have guests!” The innkeeper grabbed him and roughly wiped the suds off of his arms, making a mess of the floor that Wufei would have to clean later. The little fire gnome swiped angrily at the innkeeper, but the man was thankfully out of reach.

“Take them food and open the Winterveil Mead!”

Wufei stood dumbfounded. The Winterveil mead? What sort of guests did they have that the Winterveil mead was being opened two fortnights early?

"Now, boy!" Wufei jumped as the man's hand landed roughly on the side of his head and hurried for the oven where fresh bread was warming and meat stew was simmering. While Alork took off upstairs, he piled three of the freshest loaves and a whole round of soft cheese onto a tray and nearly ran from the kitchen. A gaggle of sprites zipped excitedly around his head and he wished he could swat at them. He had no idea what had them all so excited, or why there were so many! Usually the fey avoided areas with heavy human traffic.

It took him a bare second to locate the strangers' tables and he hurried over to them quietly, feeling oddly warm. He glanced up at the table, curious despite himself and felt the world slow. He caught a brief glance of a single wide emerald eye before he felt the tray slip out of his fingertips. It crashed to the floor with a strangely dull sound and he stood rooted to the spot, barely able to breathe.


~*~


Trowa, ill and half mad with the pain of his missing Other, looked up at the approaching figure and felt his blood boil. He wanted to laugh or cry or sing, but darkness was rushing up all around him and his eyes rolled back as he dropped into a dead faint.

Startled, Quatre barely acted quickly enough to save the much taller earth Talent from an unplanned meeting with the floor. All eyes turned to the tavern boy and the tiny mess of black hair and skinny limbs just stood there, seemingly petrified with the broken tray and food at his feet. Mere heartbeats later, a great noise broke out and the innkeeper was rushing down the stairs. He quickly took in the unconscious Talent, Wufei standing there like a rabbit in a wolf's sights and the other four Talents looking at him with wide eyes and shocked expressions. His heart jumped to his throat and he rushed forward, roughly grabbing Wufei by the arm and pulling him sharply back from the table.

“I'm sorry, m'lords! Whatever he's done, I swear I'll beat 'im somethin' fierce for it!” he cried. The shock on his patrons' faces turned quickly to black rage and the blond's hand shot out, grabbing Alork's wrist in a crushing grip.

"You'll do no such thing," he growled menacingly, standing. He towered a good four inches over the stocky innkeeper, but the way he leaned over the man and his sheer presence made it seem like several daunting feet.

"I...don't understand..."

Arm still clutched in Alork's death grip and fighting unconsciousness, Wufei did his best to make himself inconspicuous behind the innkeeper. He was equally as confused as his master and the fey around him were kicking up a furious tantrum.

"Give him to me," the blond said quietly, glaring.

"Now, wait a tick! This boy might not be much, but he's mine, and whatever he's done, I'll handle it," Alork said boldly. Wufei winced at being reminded of his status in life, but for the first time since coming into Alork's service, felt grateful to the man. Alork had never liked him, but if anything could be said about the innkeeper, it was that he protected his property.

"Yours?" the Talent asked darkly, rising to his full height and tossing back his cloak to reveal the insignia at his neck.

"I am Zechs de Merquis, Shadow-Warcraft spirit Talent and personal advisor to the king. By law I have the right to kill you for keeping my Other from me." An oppressive silence fell and Zechs reached deliberately for his belt were a malicious knife glinted in the fire light.

Swallowing hard, Alork released the boy and held his hands out in front of him.

"I... I apologize, milord, I didn't know he... how....he's not even talented! The only Talent in this village is Jes there!"

Zechs slowly drew the knife from his belt and held it loosely in one hand.

"And what makes you qualified to identify a Talent? I swear by all that's holy and otherwise that I will slit your throat here and now if you don't hand me that boy."

Nervously, Alork stepped aside to reveal Wufei creeping slowly towards the relative safety of the kitchen. Zechs quickly slipped his knife back into his belt and crossed the distance that separated him from his unclaimed Other. Wufei yelped and tried to run, but Zechs caught him around the middle.

"Hush, you'll not be harmed," he whispered to the struggling boy, putting his lips close to Wufei's ear. Weak from lack of everything, Wufei finally allowed the gray that had been slowly closing in on him to slip him into blessed unconsciousness.

"The room," Zechs said icily.

"I...uh..."

"Now."

"It's not ready..." the innkeeper protested weakly.

"Now!"

Alork jumped and headed for the stairs. Zechs and his Others followed closely, carrying their two unconscious members.


~*~


As soon as the door was open, Alork scuttled away as fast as his bulk and the narrow hallway would permit. Zechs' didn't even spare him a second glance and strode into the room, gently setting his precious burden on one of the beds. Heero rounded the other side and laid Trowa next to the unconscious boy. Trowa whimpered in his fitful sleep and reached instinctively for his Other. Unfortunately, the boy's instinctive reaction was to pull away, and Trowa withdrew, curling into a ball, his breath coming in little sobs.

~We need to wake him up,~ Zechs announced, looking down at Wufei's frail body. Trowa's pain was like a thousand sharp needles and Zechs shuddered underneath it. He glanced up at Quatre. The gentle air Talent had a troubled look on his face, but he closed his eyes and concentrated on the distant fuzzy warmth that was his unclaimed Other.

Being primarily a healing Talent, it wasn't the first time that Quatre had found it necessary to forcefully rouse someone from the depths of unconsciousness, as much as he didn't like to. It was, however, the first time he'd been blocked. The blockage was not like the polite walls Others would erect between themselves when they wanted a little privacy, but more like a full-blown shield. He looked closer and realized then that the fuzzy presence he'd felt was the boy's wall, and not the boy himself.

He quickly relayed the image to his Others and they frowned as they all turned to look.

~How could he be doing that?~ Duo pondered, prodding the wall. Unexpectedly, it prodded back, and Duo was tossed forcefully out of the mental link. He opened his eyes with a gasp. ~A warded shield?!~

~We don't have time to figure it out,~ Zechs interrupted before they could start testing the ward. ~We have to get him awake and explain the situation before Trowa is completely lost to madness.~ He opened his eyes and found their charge glaring up at him from beneath tangles of oily black hair. His eyebrows climbed up his forehead and he gave his Others a mental elbow to get their attention. Could this boy really be so good with a shield that none of them noticed him regain consciousness?

Apparently, that was exactly the case. The entire craft blinked down at him in startlement. Zechs motioned them away from the bed and sat down slowly on the edge.

“Hello,” he greeted softly, trying to make himself as unimposing as possible. It was not an easy feat for a man of his height and natural command ability; he had been trained since he was very young to hold himself in a way that was intended to be intimidating. Whether or not he was successful, he couldn't tell. The Talent's expression didn't change and he stared blankly at Zechs as though he didn't understand the language. “What's your name?” he tried gently, painfully aware that Trowa was in trouble, but scaring this boy would could only make the situation worse. The boy's expression became downright murderous and he looked around cautiously.

~Looking for an escape?~ Duo guessed.

~Most likely.~

~We don't have time for this!~ Heero pushed his way to the bedside and glared down at that the figure laying motionless and stiff on the bed.

“You've been Sought, boy!” Heero told him, voice a little sharper than he'd intended. “That is your Other and he's in pain. Do you understand what that means?!”

The tavern boy lifted himself slowly off the mattress, spat at Heero's furious face and laid back down. Heero's mouth twisted, an obscenity jumping to his tongue, but Quatre quickly pushed him out of the way, practically sitting in Zech's lap to get their uncooperative Other's attention.

“Can you hear me?” he asked, simultaneously making the hand signs for the phrase. The scrawny little mess watched his hands, looked critically at Quatre and slowly nodded. Quatre smiled at him. "Will you tell me your name?" The boy glared at him warily, and then looked away.

"Alright, look here." Slowly he turned his head toward the source of the noise, and found Duo on the other side of Trowa. His gaze rested curiously on the obviously unconscious man, then he remembered the scene in the tavern and winced. He looked up at Duo, his expression suddenly defeated.

"You can fix this," Duo told him, gesturing to Trowa. The boy nodded, though he frowned in confusion, obviously having no idea what he could do. He was just a lowly tavern boy, after all, and a slave at that. "You're his Other, do you know what that means?" He shook his head and Duo exchanged a mental glance with his Others. "Just come over here," Duo said gently, gesturing to Trowa. Wary, but knowing he didn't have a choice, he slowly eased over. As soon as he was within reach, Trowa reached out and pulled him close. Immediately he went completely limp, staring listlessly at the wall as Trowa's unconscious hands ran over his malnourished body.

~What's been done to this boy?~ Quatre wondered, trying again to see past the incredible wall, but he was immediately rebuked, pushed back even further than Duo had been. Deciding not to aggravate the situation, Quatre pulled away.

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