Author's Notes: This will be mostly like the game, but I've obviously made some changes for the pairings. Still, it shouldn't take the fic too far off the original
story line. This is going to be a long one.
Category: Yaoi, AU, Gundam Wing fusion with The Legend of Dragoon (playstation game).
Pairings: will be 2+1/1+2, 3+4/4+3, vague and flitting 2+3, C+3 (not incest, just a crush/not related)
Warnings: none, will be death of minor character in future part, not a G-boy or girl
The fire crackled, the sound loud in the silence, then boards fell at random from buildings destroyed. Hoof-beats echoed through the body-strewn street, and
the captain barely spared the destruction a glance. He was intent on his orders, and he rode straight through, his horse narrowly missing the occasional
corpse. The soldiers were soon visible, and he waited as they caught his steed's bridle and halted the creature. Sliding off, he inclined his head toward the
man who stared at him. "Where?"
"Over there, sir, we think that's the one." The man had turned, facing in the direction of the others.
A girl, young, lay unconscious over some crates, her head tilted sideways so her short red hair hid her face. With one more nod, the captain strode to her, his
gait even until he could see who it was he looked at. She was pale, but he noted with relief that she didn't seem to be injured. Still, there really wasn't time to
wonder how they'd knocked her out, and he reached a hand to the side, not bothering to look at the soldier who'd followed him. The man knew what he
wanted, and he turned his head, gazing at the pale bluish-white orb that was placed on his palm.
Then his eyes went back to the girl, and he brought his hand to her, brushing her short bangs away from her forehead so that the cool ball nearly touched her
pale skin. The resulting light made his eyes narrow, but the color was vibrant, pale with bluish waves, and there was no question. "This is the one," he
murmured, and he handed the orb away quickly, turning his back on the girl. "Take her." It wasn't until he was a few steps away, that he caught sight of the
hooded man, and his jaw tightened reflexively. "Is this really necessary?" he asked, his voice a whisper.
"It's Emperor Doel's command," the hooded man answered, his eyes and face mostly masked by the black cloth that hid his head.
"But why her?" the captain continued, unable to keep his reservations to himself. He knew it was dangerous, though. No one spoke back to this man.
"That," the pale man said, his mouth visible and showing nothing as his lips barely moved, "is not...your concern."
Dirt was thrown into the air as the soldiers left the village, their horses moving at a gallop. Soon, nothing was left but the dull flickering of half dead flames as
the remaining buildings fought to survive.
* * *
Long dark hair rippled in the wind, trailing out behind the dark-clad figure who stood at the edge of the cliff. Thin, bluish-black armor covered narrow
shoulders, long gloves hiding pale arms and hands. He was watching the forest below, the treetops in motion as birds flew away, seeking shelter in the sky as
they left their perches. Then his fingers curled around the hilt of the long rapier at his side, and it was pulled out of the scabbard with an infinitely fluid motion.
"The green-tusked dragon," the soft voice said, husky as it dropped slightly, "Feyrbrand..."
The leafy treetops parted, not too far from the edge of the cliff, and for a moment a green head was visible, a low rumbling sound echoing as it reached the
figure. Then the head dipped again and was lost from sight, only the swaying of the trees telling of its travel. The young man didn't wait, however, but held his
slender blade in an easy grip as he suddenly leapt forward, falling down. Many feet below, he landed lightly on a boulder, then he jumped again, nearly
springing off until he too disappeared beneath the tops of the trees, his direction...toward the dragon.
* * *
"Hm...chance of war...more likely." The young man shook his head, and slowly slipped a folded paper back inside his red armor. "I hope it's just a rumor," he
said softly. His green eyes narrowed a bit, and he was grateful he'd received the news as it meant he'd had time to return to his village. As it was, he could be
there with plenty of light, and learn if the rumors had any truth to them. He still had his own mission to take care of.
His thoughts were broken as hoof-beats sounded, and he stood sharply. There was a path not far from him, and his long legs took him there as he ran to see
who would travel so quickly. As he broke through the bushes, his tan leather boots skidded in the dirt, and he stared off after the retreating men, their horses
kicking up dust. For a moment, he was tempted to follow, and he brushed his long bangs away from his eyes as he thought about it. Then the sounds came
again, and he stepped back a bit, legs apart as he waited for the two riders he now saw to reach him.
"Who goes there?" a man demanded, jerking his horse to a sudden halt so the creature's front legs pawed at the boy. The red armor was not cheap, and he
could see the boy's hand straying down toward his sword. "Are you a mercenary of Basil?! Answer!"
Trowa glared suddenly, and pulled his sword free so he held it at an angle before him. These men were obviously looking for a fight, and he had no intention
of allowing them to bully him, especially since it was obvious they had been running from something in a hurry. The man to his left pulled his own sword, and
he leaned his shoulders forward just a bit in preparation. Then the two horses suddenly gave simultaneous shrieks and he jumped back as they reared, the
men's startled cries telling him they weren't responsible. It was the harsh sound of a very large tree crashing to the ground mere feet behind him that made
him turn and Trowa couldn't help the startled breath that escaped his lips.
The creature was huge, green appendages reaching out in front of its odd snout as it opened a large mouth to reveal very sharp teeth. Then Trowa couldn't
see any more as he had dove to the ground, narrowly missing sharp claws that swung at him. The men were gone, their horses carrying them down the path,
and the boy scrambled to his feet, his sword suddenly seeming small in his hand. Again, those slender arms moved, long claws reaching towards him, and he
rolled to the side, running suddenly. There was no way he could defeat the thing, he'd never even seen something like it, and he knew his sword wasn't
The crashing behind him told of his pursuer, and he jumped to the left as a tree fell where he'd been running, the thick foliage nearly killing him as he shoved
through it. His hands fell down, bracing him as he swung over the thick trunk, then he was forced to dive again as a huge foot slammed down, crushing the
wood as if it were a mere splinter. //I have to move faster!// he thought furiously, then he turned, his sword swinging at the claws that reached for him. The
creature was faster, though, and he ran again as it pulled its long arm back out of his reach. Then, his world jerked, his panicked mind not registering the
strong arms that were suddenly wrapped around his waist or the fact that his feet had left the ground. It wasn't until he landed, nearly hitting his knees as he
was released, that his eyes snapped to the figure that knelt before him.
"Who are you?" he asked, his mind too shocked to realize the danger, but his words were cut off as a dark gloved hand covered his mouth.
"Shh...if you want to live..."
The dragon was close, he saw, the large boulder barely shielding them from its vision, and he wondered, briefly, how the warrior had managed to carry him to
the shelter in that quick second. Then the ground shuddered lightly as the monster made a slow path away from them, and he stared at his savior, taking in
the violet eyes that shone from that pale face. The boy...man, was wearing armor as well, but his was lighter, the material not familiar to him except that he
knew it was better than his own. Then his eyes were drawn to the long fall of dark, auburn-tinted hair that curled down the person's back, reaching well past
the slim waist.
"What was that?" Trowa blinked, hearing the question escape him. It wasn't what he'd meant to ask, he'd meant to thank the person, and ask his name.
"A dragon," the dark figure said smoothly, standing as those violet eyes looked down the recently cleared forest, the path marked by fallen trees. "He's
traveled so far...the village could have been easily destroyed without the use of the dragon. Why would they need him..."
"Village?!" Trowa's eyes blazed suddenly, and he leapt to his feet, barely holding himself as his body prepared to bolt. There was only one village nearby,
and his heart suddenly clenched within his chest. "Are you talking about Seles?"
The dark figure looked at him, those eyes void of any readable emotion, then long bangs fell forward as he gave a slow nod. "Yes." The boy turned
immediately, and he stepped after him, eyes narrowing. "Where are you going? It's too late now..."
"It's *my* village!" Trowa cried, not even looking back.
The male stared after him, then a dark bluish-violet glow suddenly erupted from the chest of his armor and he looked down, eyes widening. "No...it's not
possible! Surely *he* can't be..." Slipping a hand into the armor, he withdrew a small stone, the light blazing brightly so that his pale face seemed to glow. "So
* * *
A rat, long gray fur shining in the moonlight visible through the bars, ran across the cot and onto the floor. Its tiny claws made scraping sounds, then it
squealed as the cell door was drawn open, disappearing into the shadows. A girl, dressed in white clothing was shoved inside, and she hit her knees hard,
not glancing back. The guard smirked at her still back, and gave her an unnecessary prod that pushed her onto the cement floor before turning to the door.
"Enjoy your stay," he called, his malice dripping from the words. Then he threw the door shut, the metal barking sharply and the sound of the large key
turning in the rusty lock grating to the ears. Inside the cell, the girl sat still, her red hair falling forward as her head was bowed toward the floor, her slender
arms bracing her body.
* * *
"What I want to know is why her?" The large man's face screwed up, yellowed teeth showing as he sneered. The bridge swayed when he stepped onto it, and
his girth barely fit. His beady eyes were pinned on the man who stood at the other side of it, searching for those hidden eyes. The gaping hole between them
seemed to call out to him, and he quickly entertained the thought of throwing the man into it, listening to his scream as he fell down, so far down. "What's so
special about that girl?"
"You don't need to know," the tall man said smoothly, the silver band about his forehead glinting in the lights far above as he nodded. "All you need to know is
that you are to take very careful care of her. You have your orders, Fruegal."
"I don't take orders from you!" the heavy man shouted suddenly, leaning forward as he challenged the man. He didn't even know who he was, it was
unthinkable that the man dream to order him around. Then the thoughts were wiped out of his mind as a silver blade was suddenly pressed against his thick
chin, the tip digging into his neck.
"The orders...are from Emperor Doel. But mark this." The man's head tilted down a bit, and he twisted the blade a fraction of an inch making the man
whimper in anger and pain. "If there is so much as a scratch on her, I'll have your head. You understand, don't you?"
"Argh!" Fruegal leapt back suddenly, holding a hand to his neck as he glared at the man in utter hatred. Then he turned sharply and grabbed the soldier
who stood behind him. The brown haired man's eyes widened for a second, then he screamed as he was abruptly thrown over the swaying bridge, his arms
flailing uselessly. Fruegal watched him until he was out of sight, and he sighed with pleasure, his eyes glinting as the hooded man was no longer before him.
One day he would learn the man's identity, and then *he* would be the one thrown into the hole.
* * *
From the top of the hill, he could see the devastation, the former buildings barely standing rubble. And he could see...the still forms that lay scattered along
the dirt street. Then he was running, following the narrow path he'd been away from for so long. Reaching the low fence that circled the outskirts of the small
village, he jumped it easily, his legs nearly faltering as he found himself mere feet from a familiar man. He was lying a foot from the doorway to his burnt home,
and he moaned as two soldiers stood over him.
"Haven't you...done...enough...?" he rasped, his throat painfully forcing the words out. Then his eyes closed as one of the men kicked him in the ribs, his frail
body unable to take the violence as he was well along in age.
"Maybe if I kill you," the man sneered, his dark eyes glinting as he leaned over the grey-haired man, "maybe that will be enough." Lifting his sword, he raised it
over the man, the point aimed at that thin chest.
"Stop!" The two men turned sharply at his furious cry, and Trowa ran to them, his own sword drawn. There didn't seem to be need for introductions, and he
faced them for a moment before rushing to the right. The man there was no fighter. He didn't so much as block the blow as Trowa's blade sliced along his
middle. Moving fast, Trowa's blade turned down, and he finished the man off, his movements so swift the other soldier was still staring when he turned to him.
He didn't hesitate to send this one to join his comrade.
With a blank expression, Trowa slowly knelt beside the old man, and his hand shook more than he cared for as it brushed silver hair off a pale forehead. "Are
you all right?" He knew the answer, but the words seemed natural, as if that was what one was supposed to say when looking at a man who'd been his
neighbor for years, a man who was dying before his eyes.
"T...Trowa...you came...back..." It took effort to open his eyes, but the man managed it, and his lips twitched just a bit. "Thank Soa...you have to..."
"What is it," Trowa asked, the man's urgency evident.
"Catherine...they took her...Hellena...prison..."
"What?!" His eyes narrowed into slits of green, and Trowa gripped the man's shoulders without thinking. But it made no difference. One last whispery breath
escaped the man's lips before the body went limp. Trowa stared down at him for a moment, then his eyes snapped to the dead soldiers. His sister, the girl
who'd been more of a sister to him than he imagined a real one would be, had been taken. He didn't have to know the details of her capture. If he hadn't
gone, hadn't left to fulfill his mission for revenge, this wouldn't have happened, he could have made a difference. And now, she was gone, taken away for a
reason he didn't know. But he'd find out. Standing slowly, his eyes turned to the exit of the village, sweeping over the tumbled headstones as he looked at the
forest in the distance. The prison wasn't too far away.