Divided World Chapter 5
By: Ketsurui


The two weeks of Quatre's visit were drawing to a close. Trowa felt
sad about that; he'd truly enjoyed the prince's company, his exotic ideas,
and even his pleasant, smiling face. It was mostly likely that he'd never see
Quatre again, since their meeting had been a random arrangement, and Trowa
certainly wouldn't be able to survive the long trip to the Land of the Sand.
Quatre visiting him was out of the question; he and Jocasta would be married
soon, and her family hated foreigners.
*I don't think her father has a reason for disliking them. I can't
blame Jocasta, though. It was probably his influence.*
"There you are, Trowa!"
*Ah, something stupid this way comes.* "Good evening, my Lady,"
Trowa replied with a full formal bow as his fiancee, sighing as she once
again seized his arm.
"Come on, Trowa! Father is waiting for us!"
* * *
"I do believe you will find these term satisfactory. This list
includes her dowry and the lands that the heir will gain." Lord Vulpes smiled
as he handed the document to Lord Barton, smiling as he saw his daughter so
happily attached to the younger lord. *I am glad she could get the man she
wanted.*
"These terms are *quite* satisfactory," the older Barton agreed. He
took a pen from an inkpot sitting nearby, and signed the family name quickly.
"What do you think, Trowa?"
Trowa, who was cringing from Jocasta's nuzzling his shoulder,
replied "I agree with what you think, Father," though he had no idea what he
was being asked about. It hardly mattered, though; whatever Father thought is
what would happen.
"Then it is settled. The wedding will be performed in seven months,
and may the Divine Beings bless the happy couple." A few more ritual
congratulations, and the affianced were out in the hall so their fathers
could discus further arrangements.
"I'm so glad that our fathers have everything settled," Jocasta
murmured. She pressed herself closer to Trowa, who automatically back away
until his back was against the wall.
"So am I," the nobleman lied through clenched teeth, feeling the
hair on the back of his neck prickling.
"I really like you, Trowa," she whispered. Jocasta grabbed the
front of Trowa's shirt when it looked like her fiance was going to try and
escape, her long, sharp nails tearing fabric and flesh. Before he could react
further, she kissed him forcefully, jamming her knee just under his groin.
The brunette man's eyes went wide, his stomach lurching. Though his
was in a difficult position for fighting back, he managed to shove his
forearm against her collarbone, forcing Jocasta back. "This is extremely
improper!" He hissed. "I suggest you don't do it again, or your 'friends' may
get wind of this. What would they think of your innocent image then?"
Frowning, she stepped away from him. "You wait, Trowa! In just a
few months, you'll be all mine."
* * *
*That half-wit witch!* Trowa mentally snarled, pulling his ruined
shirt off and throwing it into the metal waste basket that stood in one
corner of his room. Opening the door to his wardrobe, he examined the
scratches on his chest. They weren't deep, but she had still broken enough
skin to cause a few rivulets of blood to bead up to the surface. *Damn her.*
Sighing, Trowa flung himself on his bed. *How perfect. My fiancee
is psychotic, and I am repulsed by the very sight of her. I'll probably vomit
on our wedding night.* He reached up and untied the ribbon that held his hair
back, relaxing slightly as he felt the should-length locks brushing his
cheeks. *Why me?*
"May I come in, Trowa?" a muffled voice asked from the other side
of the door.
"Come on in, Quatre," he replied, recognizing the voice. Briefly,
he thought to say that he shouldn't be seeing him without a shirt on, but he
didn't care at the moment.
The blond entered and, after a brief hesitation, sat down on the
edge of the bed. "What's wrong, Trowa? I can tell you're tense just by
looking at you."
"It's nothing either you or I can change, so there's no point in
talking about it." He crushed his face into the pillow, a muscle in his back
twitching.
Quatre's brows drew together in concern, watching the twitch. If
Trowa didn't relax, it might become a full-on spasm. Resting a hand on his
shoulder, he gently rubbed his fingers into the taller man's skin.
The nobleman gasped and jumped, drawing away. "What are you
doing?!" *First Jocasta, now him!*
"I'm trying to relax you," the prince replied, unable to find
better words in Trowa's language to use. He smoothly pushed the brunette so
he was resting face-down against the mattress again.
"If someone sees us-!"
"The door is shut, and no one would be so rude as to just walk in."
Quatre touched a lock of Trowa's hair soothingly. "If you are still
uncomfortable, just think that this is your reward for your end of the draw."
Sighing, the green-eyed one relented, though he tensed up even more
when he felt Quatre's hands on him.
"Relax," the smaller man murmured soothingly, his fingers finding
the most painfully knotted areas and kneading into them. It took several
minutes, but finally Trowa's muscles loosened under his touch.
*I shouldn't be enjoying this,* the nobleman half-thought *there
must be something wrong about this.* His body effectively silenced his mind
as he was lulled into a haze of comfort. "Thank you," he murmured.
Quatre smiled to himself, wondering if Trowa knew that he purred as
he spoke. "It's my pleasure," he whispered in return, hands roaming to his
lower back. "Would you like me to stop now?"
"I believe I'd have to kill you if you did," he replied with a soft
chuckle. Still smiling, he closed his eyes, dozing lightly under the skilled
hands.
Seeing that Trowa had fallen asleep, the blond carefully slipped
off the bed, glad that he could stop; his hands were beginning to ache.
Licking his dry lips, Quatre leaned over the taller man, placing a feathery
kiss between his shoulder blades, pulling back in case he awoke. "Rest well,"
he murmured, a soft light in his eyes.
Unknown to both men, the door had been cracked open. The green eyes
that were peering in widened at the kiss, their owner dashing down the hall
in shock.

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