Disclaimers:  I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its characters.

Notes:  Trowa comes to a decision and tells Heero and Duo of his plans.

Captive Hearts

Part Seventeen

Trowa ate his meal silently.  He hated the downhearted expression on Heero’s face.  Heero had been Trowa’s friend for years,
and it pained him to think that one simple act on his part could determine Heero’s joy or misery.

He flicked his gaze over to where Quatre was eating.  The little blonde was very careful to not look up . . . the way a slave
should be . . . although, Trowa would much rather be able to look into a person’s eyes.

He sat back and thought over the conversations that he’d had with the two slaves.  Quatre’s plea to go in Duo’s stead, and Duo’
s calm assessment that Quatre WOULD please Trowa if he was given the time and patience he needed.  If Trowa was honest
with himself, Quatre was pleasing to look at, and that kiss the blonde had given him . . . had touched him in a way that all the
flattering from courtiers had never been able to.  It had been an honest act from an honest soul.

With a nod to himself, he picked up his goblet and carefully observed Heero.  Now that he was looking, he could see the sad
looks that Heero cast in Duo’s direction now and again.  ‘I have no need of Duo anymore.  It would be a crime to separate them
when they are so very obviously in love.’  Trowa thought to himself, considering things carefully.

Trowa was silent for a few minutes more, then he spoke.  “Heero . . . I am going to be leaving tomorrow to see to it that young
Mariemaia is in no danger.  On my return trip, I will visit again.”

Heero’s voice was full of pain as he spoke.  “Duo will be ready for you when you return.”  He said, his shoulders visibly
slumping in despair.

Trowa smiled.  “Ah . . . yes.  There is that matter.  I actually have a proposition for you.”

Heero looked up in alarm, but there was a sparkle of hope in his eyes.  “What sort of a proposition is it?”  He asked guardedly.

Trowa motioned toward Quatre with a wave of his hand.  “Your newest acquisition is of the opinion that he might suit me better
than Duo does . . . and Duo agrees.  On my return trip, I would like to take Quatre with me and leave Duo here.  I have no use
for Duo, as good as he is . . . and I would rather have Duo be happy.”

Heero’s fork clattered to the floor.  “What?  This is out of nowhere!  I’d have to ask Quatre . . .”  He began, his eyes wide.

Trowa shook his head, holding up his hand.  “To tell the truth, this whole thing is actually his idea.  He asked me to take him in
Duo’s place.”

“Is it true, Quatre?”  Heero asked, turning to look at the petite blonde.

Quatre bowed his head, nodding slightly.  “Y-Yes, sire.  I do not want you to be unhappy, Master Heero.  It pains me to see you
so despairing as when you think of Duo leaving.”

“So that’s what you were doing coming out of Trowa’s bedchamber yesterday.  I had wondered about that.”  Duo commented.

“It is a kind gesture . . .”  Heero began, then shook his head.  “But as much as I appreciate it, I cannot allow it.  Quatre is simply
not ready for this.”

Trowa frowned.  This was not the way he had planned things.  “Heero . . . even you must admit that this is the optimum
solution for all of us.  You and Duo get to remain together, and I get a compensation in return.  My father can’t disapprove of
this, since I am not giving Duo to you for free . . . I would be getting something in return.”

“But Quatre should not be uprooted so suddenly.”  Heero disagreed.

Trowa sighed.  “I am not taking him with me today, Heero.  I mean to pick him up on my return trip in a couple of weeks . . .
perhaps even a month.  Surely by then he would have had the time to adjust to the idea of a change.”

Heero opened his mouth.  But anything he was meaning to say was halted when Quatre rose from his seat.  “Please . . . please,
may I have a say in this?”  He asked timidly.

Duo stood up quickly, nodding his head.  “Go ahead, Quatre.  You should have a say in your own future.  We may be slaves,
but the least they could do is hear you out . . . especially since they both claim to want what is best for us.”

Both Trowa and Heero immediately shut their mouths.  Trowa smirked, knowing that Duo was right.  This was not a decision to
be made by either Trowa or Heero.  This was Quatre’s life.  Even if he was a slave, Heero would abide by the blonde’s
decisions.  He was a fair and caring young man, even if he didn’t always act like one.

Quatre took a breath, his eyes darting back and forth between Trowa and Heero repeatedly.  Trowa could see that he was
frightened, but made no move toward him.  It was not his place to comfort the blonde, not yet.

“I . . . I w-want to go with M-Master Trowa.”  Quatre said.

Heero looked concerned.  “You know . . . you don’t have to say that for my sake.  I’m sure that Trowa and I can work
something else out.”

Duo also looked worried.  “Are you sure about this?  You know . . . you’re only JUST settling in here . . . do you REALLY
want to go someplace else?”

Quatre glanced over to Trowa.  Trowa tried to give Quatre a reassuring smile.  “It is your decision, Quatre.”  It was a
reassurance that Quatre shyly smiled back at.

Quatre nodded.  “I am sure.  I want to go with you when you return, Master Trowa.”

Heero sighed.  “Seeing that you are set on it, Quatre, I will not discourage you.  However, might I make a suggestion?”

Quatre nodded quickly, ducking his head.

“Perhaps tonight you should stay in Trowa’s room?”  Heero suggested.  “It would give the both of you a chance to become
acquainted.  And if you still feel that you wish to leave with Trowa after Trowa leaves tomorrow morning, I will do nothing to
stop you, and I will do all that I can to prepare you for his return.  I only propose this as a last chance for you to change your
mind, Quatre.  I don’t want you to rush into anything you aren’t ready for.”

“Yes, that is a wise decision, Heero.”  Trowa commented.  “I will agree to it, if Quatre is willing.  We shall swap slaves tonight.”

Quatre nodded, speaking quietly.  “Yes . . . I . . . I will stay the night with Master Trowa.”  He said, flicking his eyes over to
where Duo was watching Heero.  “I am sure that Duo has no objections to this arrangement.”

Duo smiled a little, a faint blush coming to his cheeks.  For once he had no quips, no jokes to make . . . he remained silent, only
looking at Heero with a smile curling his lips.


Quatre stood nervously outside the door to Master Trowa’s room.  He bit his lip, feeling so terribly insecure.  Would he be good
enough?  Would he please Master Trowa?  Quatre hoped that he would not disappoint the young man.  He didn’t want to
endanger Duo’s last chance at staying with Master Heero.

“Hey there . . . the door isn’t going to open on its own.”

Quatre turned and bit into his bottom lip.  Catherine, Trowa’s sister and personal bodyguard, was standing there with a small
smirk on her face.  “Um . . . should I knock, or wait for someone to announce me?”

Catherine chuckled softly, and Quatre found the sound to be warm and inviting, rather than oppressive . . . and her face very
well seemed to light up.  “Oh hush, Quatre.”  She smiled, laying a hand on Quatre’s shoulder, to which the blonde flinched.  
Catherine’s smile softened.  “Don’t you worry . . . I’m not going to harm you.  Trowa’s told me everything he knows, and I
think it’s a wonderful idea for you to switch with Duo.  One word of advice, though . . .”

Quatre nodded in interest, raising one eyebrow.  “Yes?”

Catherine knocked on the door, turning to wink at Quatre.  “Don’t throw your game.  Trowa hates that.”

Quatre blinked in confusion as Catherine walked away.  ‘Throw my game?  What does she mean?’  He thought, then lowered
his eyes as Trowa opened the door to greet him.  “I . . . I am here, Master Trowa.”

“Don’t be afraid, Quatre.  I won’t harm you.  Please . . . come in and have a seat by the fire.”

Slowly, Quatre raised his gaze and glanced past Trowa to the fireplace.  He gasped in sheer delight and understanding.  ‘So
THAT’S what she meant!’  Forgetting himself, and walking like a moth entranced by the flames, Quatre approached the finely
carved chess set that had been placed on a table near to the hearth.  ‘Father had a set like this . . . just like this one.’  Quatre
thought as he reached out to touch one of the delicate pieces.  His eyes filled with tears as he recalled the many happy times
when he would sit with his father and play.

“Do you play?”  Trowa asked.  “Duo isn’t very good, sadly.  It’s been quite a while since I’ve played against a decent
opponent.  Catherine so rarely has the time.”  Trowa was at a seat, holding it out for Quatre to sit in.

Quatre put down the piece he had been caressing.  “I play . . . I used to anyway . . . my father taught me how to.  He . . . he
had a set like this one.”  His tears fell in gentle droplets, running down his face to drip to his bare chest.

Trowa was silent for a moment, standing there beside Quatre’s seat.  “I have another set, if playing with this one will be too
painful for you.  Or perhaps we should choose another way to bide our time?”

Quatre looked up at the kind and concerned tone in Trowa’s voice and smiled.  “No . . . no, the memories that I have of my
father are happy ones.”  He wiped his hand over his face, brushing aside the wetness gathered on his cheeks.  “I am crying
because it has been so long since I last played . . . since I last saw my father.”  He sighed and thought back.  “I also miss my
music room.  That was my place . . . my sanctuary.”

Trowa seemed pleased.  He took his seat, smiling at Quatre.  “You play music?  What instrument?”

Quatre shrugged.  “Many different types.”  He said, then gestured to the chessboard.  “You should move first . . . you have the
white pieces.”

Trowa smiled and nodded.  The instant that Trowa made the first move, Quatre’s heart was turned back to the times as a boy
when he would persuade his father to spend time with him.  He was so lost in the memories and happiness, that he hardly
noticed as the habits beaten into him were all pushed aside and temporarily forgotten.  Trowa asked questions . . . Quatre
answered them.  Likewise, if Quatre asked a question, then Trowa would answer.  The fear that Quatre had been living with
almost vanished completely.  It wasn’t until he was moving his knight to capture one of Trowa’s rooks that he remembered his
position in life.  

A spasm of pain in his shoulder caused him to drop the chess piece and cry out in pain.  Most likely, the ill-timed muscle pain
was caused by the stresses he had been putting himself through.  Without the adrenaline rush making him fearful, Quatre was
left with only aches and pains.  He did not like this.  He ducked his head, embarrassed and afraid of what Trowa would do to
him now.  The game had been disturbed.  Surely Trowa would be angry.

“What is it?”  Trowa was out of his seat and at Quatre’s side in an instant.

Quatre smiled sheepishly and bowed his head.  He wanted to say that nothing was wrong, but he could not lie . . . not to Master
Trowa.  “My shoulder . . . I am not sure what’s wrong with it.”  He yelped as Trowa reached out and lightly squeezed the
offending part of his body.  “I’m sorry, Master.  I ruined the game.”  He sniffled, feeling ashamed.

Trowa chuckled warmly.  “Ruined?  Quatre . . . that move you were about to make would have put me into checkmate.  This
was the best game of chess I’ve played in years.  As to your shoulder . . . it feels like your muscles are tense.  How long have
they been like this?”

Quatre thought back to when he was last relaxed.  “Um . . . I’m not sure, Master.  Probably since Mistress Une . . .”  He didn’t
want to say anything bad about his previous mistress.  She had been a good woman to him . . . up to a point.

“Well . . . then perhaps I can give you a parting gift.”  Trowa smiled a little.  “Come along.”

Quatre timidly followed.  When he saw that he was being led over to the bed, he reached to take off his loincloth, thinking that
was what Master Trowa intended.  Trowa gently grasped his hands though . . . and Quatre jumped from surprise and fear.

Trowa let go of Quatre’s hands, his smile soft.  “Not tonight, Quatre.  Tonight, I’ll just give you a massage to ease your
tension.”  Trowa’s face was gentle and his eyes sparkled with kindness.

Still, this was highly unusual.  “But, Master Trowa . . . it is my job to give massages to you . . . not the other way around.”

“No, Quatre.  Your duty is to see to my happiness and comfort.”  Trowa said with a chuckle.  “And doing this for you, will
make me happy.  I don’t like to see anyone in pain.”

Quatre blushed, unused to such treatment.  Still, he obeyed Trowa, laying down on his stomach when they reached the bed.  
Trowa rummaged in a drawer before joining Quatre on the bed, moving to straddle Quatre’s body.  Quatre could feel the cloth
of Trowa’s breeches brushing across his bare skin.  But still, Quatre fought the shudder that crept through his entire body, not
wanting Trowa to think that he was averse to this.  If Duo had a chance of staying with Master Heero, then Trowa would have
to want Quatre . . . and Trowa couldn’t possibly want a slave that didn’t like being touched.

The fragrant scent of lavender came to Quatre’s nose and he smiled, memories returning to him of his eldest sister’s favored
perfume.  She loved lavenders . . . Quatre turned his head away, trying to hide his face in his arms.  He did not want to

At the first touch of Trowa’s hands to his back, Quatre trembled.  Trowa said nothing though.  He merely continued, stroking
his strong hands across Quatre’s back.  The feel of the slick oil was strange, yet Quatre found that he enjoyed the feel of this
massage after the initial pain subsided.  He wondered if anyone he had done this to had felt this good.

It was such a delight that he felt disappointed when it was finally over with.  He unintentionally let out a disapproving groan as
Trowa took his hands away, only to wind up blushing a deep scarlet in embarrassment.

“I’m pleased to know you enjoyed that.”  Trowa commented with a smirk, moving to lie on the bed beside Quatre.  He reached
out, tenderly brushing aside the bangs from Quatre’s face.  “Tonight . . . tonight I believe I will simply hold you for the sheer
fact that you seem to need such gentle contact.  And I won’t let you go until our time is up at sunrise.”

Quatre blushed again, not used to the feelings coursing through him.  He didn’t remember ever feeling so shy before . . . there
was just something about Trowa that made him nervous, made him want to be more than he was.  Quatre didn’t understand.  
Yet . . . he felt that he wanted to do something now, to repay Trowa for the kindness that he had already shown him.  Biting his
bottom lip for a moment, he considered the possibilities, then came up with what he felt was best.

Slowly, he leaned closer, raising his head a little.  He kissed Trowa then, merely a simple meeting of the lips and nothing more.  
But that single action thrilled Quatre far more than he thought it would.  His heart flipped in his chest, his limbs beginning to
quiver as he shyly pressed closer, his hands moving to grasp at Trowa’s clothing.  He wanted more . . . by the Gods, for the
first time in his life he truly wanted more.

Trowa’s hand slid along Quatre’s body, sending tingles through each inch of his skin.  His hand was strong as it gently wrapped
around the back of Quatre’s neck, his thumb idly stroking the skin there as he shifted his position to lean over Quatre’s form.

Quatre arched his back beneath the young lord, forgetting everything in this kiss.  Without thought, he opened his mouth and
Trowa quickly took advantage of the invitation given to him, sliding his tongue along Quatre’s palate, delivering nothing but a
flood of pleasure with every second that passed.

Quatre’s hands seemed to take on a mind of their own as they tugged against Trowa’s clothing.  And this was where things
stopped.  Quatre groaned as Trowa pulled away, moving mouth and body away from Quatre.  He grasped Quatre’s hands,
stopping them from touching his body.  Quatre felt confused now . . . weren’t things going well?  Didn’t Trowa want his
body?  All of his other masters had . . . why not Trowa?

“You don’t desire me?”  Quatre asked, pouting a little.

He had hoped that Trowa wouldn’t find him disgusting.  Maybe he had been fooling himself to think that Trowa could find him
desirable . . . he was not a virgin, hadn’t been one for so long . . . he was used goods.  He turned away, tears welling up in his
eyes as he rolled his body away from Trowa’s.

“I am ugly.”  He whispered, shuddering in fear and suffering.  Master Trowa didn’t want him . . . he must be hideous.

Trowa’s hand moved across Quatre’s side.  “You are not ugly, Quatre.”  He said, gently urging Quatre to turn.  “You are
beautiful . . . the most beautiful creature that I have seen in my whole life.  Your hair is like spun gold . . . your eyes shimmer
more brightly than the stars in the sky.  If I had to describe you, I would say that you are an angel fallen from the heavens.  One
so lovely as you could not possibly have been born anywhere else.”

Quatre blushed.  Trowa’s words were sweet . . . no one had ever talked to him like this.  “But then why don’t you want me?”  
Quatre asked, still feeling confused.  “Did I do something wrong?”

Trowa smiled.  “I told you earlier . . . tonight I simply want to hold you.  I won’t use you for a single night’s pleasure . . .
especially when you are not ready for it.  You may have reacted to my touch, but you are not ready for that step yet.”

“But . . . I honestly don’t mind.”  Quatre replied.

“Not tonight.”  Trowa said, raising his hand to sweep away the stray hair from Quatre’s face.  “When I get you to my home, I’ll
learn what you like and what you don’t.  I want to be able to spend days exploring you.  Matters are just too pressing now.”  He
smiled warmly, ghosting his fingers across Quatre’s lips.  “It is not enough for me if you merely don’t mind, Quatre . . . you
have to want to participate . . . not only want it with your body and mind, but with your heart and soul as well.  I want you
absolutely certain that you wish to be with me in such an intimate manner.  With as much suffering as you have already been
through in your life, I cannot ask for anything less.”

Quatre nodded.  “Yes, I understand.”  He replied, timidly sliding closer, his hands shaking as he draped his arms around Trowa’s
slender body.  “I appreciate your consideration.  No one has ever thought about my feelings . . . at least not before I came here .
. . and my family.”  He bit his lip, shaking his head as memories assaulted him.  “Some of my family at least.”  He shuddered,
pushing back the thoughts of his sisters’ betrayal.

Trowa’s hand was firm against Quatre’s back.  “Sshh, it’s okay, Quatre.”  He whispered, lying down and pulling the little
blonde closer.  “What say we get some rest now?  I think you could do with a good night’s sleep.”

“Yes, sleep would be welcome.”  Quatre mumbled against Trowa’s chest.  “Y-You won’t leave me, right?”

“Of course I won’t.  Tonight, you will not part from my arms for even a moment.”  Trowa assured him, reaching down to the
end of the bed and bringing the blankets up over the two of them.  Even though Trowa was still mostly dressed, only his boots
and belt missing, he wasn’t moving to rid himself of his clothes or to change into something else.

Quatre smiled to himself, snuggling a little closer to Trowa.  He didn’t understand why, but he felt safe here in Trowa’s arms, as
if nothing could harm him here.  It was reassuring and wonderful . . . Quatre idly wondered what this feeling was.  He closed
his eyes, sighing happily as he settled himself to sleep, content in the arms of another man for the first time in his young life.

To Be Continued . . .