Heero stayed with Quatre until he fell asleep that night. Quatre tried to fight it, blinking big sleepy eyes at Heero. He chuckled and touched the tip of the blond's nose. "Go to sleep. You're exhausted."
"Mmm...don' want to."
Firmer this time. "Sleep, Quat."
The blue eyes finally drifted closed and Heero listened as his breath slowed, content to stare at that beautiful face all night. His eyes slid over the thick blond hair that curled around his nape and then down to his back. The gashes were ugly, horrifically painful looking and Heero's heart clenched as he remembered witnessing the terrible event. His eyes flickered back up to Quatre's face and he dipped his head down and pressed a soft kiss onto his husband's forehead. Quatre did not stir, even when Heero gently caressed his face and whispered, "You are strong. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. You are one of the strongest people I've ever known and I'm honored to be your husband."
He slid a hand down and placed it delicately on the blond's back, feeling the jagged rows of cuts beneath his palm. Quatre twitched in his sleep and murmured. Heero kissed the little knot that formed between blond brows, watching as it smoothed out again. "Ssh. It's okay. I promise you, I am going to make them pay for what they did to you. And I am going to make damn sure no one ever hurts you again." He pressed his face into the blond curls and laid a kiss there, then reluctantly pulled away and climbed off the bed. He tugged the sheet over Quatre's legs and forced himself to leave the room. There was someone he needed to see. Someone he needed to speak with.
He walked to Trowa's door, glancing back over his shoulder once, then turned the handle, letting himself into the servant's chambers. Trowa was awake, sitting in front of the fire, polishing his sword. The blade gleamed in the candle and firelight as he rubbed a soft cloth over it.
He didn't glance up when Heero cleared his throat, didn't even acknowledge his presence. Heero bristled slightly at the dismissal.
"I'm here because we need to -"
"I know why you're here."
Heero crossed his arms. "Okay. Are you with me, or not?"
Trowa stood up and crossed the room in a few strides of his long legs, the sword thrust out in front of him. Heero gulped as the tip of the blade touched his Adam's apple and he looked into the servant's eyes, challenge in his gaze. He would not beg for his life.
"I just hope you're capable of protecting Quatre after you kill me."
Trowa's eyes narrowed and he held the sword steady for another minute, then dropped his arm. "I'm not going to kill you. I need your help taking down this regime...and Quatre would kill me if I did." Trowa's lips curled up just slightly in a wry grin and then he turned away.
Heero let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, his shoulders drooping in relief. "I appreciate that."
"Doesn't mean I have to like you," Trowa muttered.
Heero smiled. "Understood."
They left together after checking in on Quatre to make sure he was still asleep. He'd commandeered the expanse of the bed, stretched out on his belly, arms and legs spread out in all directions. Heero felt a rush of affection and smiled at his adorable husband. There was time to fill him in on everything, but he still needed to heal. Rest was the top priority. Trowa brushed blond bangs away from Quatre's face and pressed a kiss to his head, then strode stiffly past Heero. "Alright, let's go."
Heero nodded and followed him out. "Right."
They walked along the winding hallways and left out through the castle doors after informing the guards that they needed to meet with the Lieutenant to discuss official business. They walked across the castle grounds towards the woods, heading to the Mosque where Zechs and a few of his trusted men were waiting. Heero was reminded of the trek he'd taken with Quatre and Wufei only a week ago after reluctantly agreeing to marry the Prince. It seemed like forever ago. It seemed like only moments ago. He realized as he matched Trowa's urgent strides, that he regretted nothing.
Trowa was quiet and Heero tried for casual conversation, intent on getting to know him better. He needed to be on some kind of neutral ground with the servant. Even if Trowa never grew to like him, they needed to learn to get along. This animosity was not going to be conducive for any of them.
"So, you're Emalian."
Trowa nodded. "I am."
"How did you wind up as a Ghalian servant?"
"Emalian children have been taken by Ghalian soldiers for centuries. They train us to become warriors for them because of our inbred physical strength and fighting skills."
Heero was well aware of that. "But, you're a personal servant."
Trowa hesitated, then glanced at him, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. "I have a - weak heart."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Trowa said with a touch of resentment. "They were going to exterminate me, but Quatre wouldn't let them." A laugh escaped Trowa's lips before he could stop it. "He attached himself to me, literally, and wouldn't let go until they promised they wouldn't kill me."
"That sounds like Quatre."
"That's how he's always been. He saved my life."
"We have that in common."
"Yes, I suppose we do. I've known him since we were eleven years old." Trowa looked over at him, his eyes large, fervid in the darkness. "He means the world to me."
Heero nodded. "I know he does."
"Does he mean the world to you?"
Heero didn't even need to stop and consider. "Yes."
"I hope so. Because if he doesn't then you don't deserve him."
Heero may not have regretted his decision to marry Quatre, but his heart still went out to the servant who had been deeply in love with him for years. "I'm sorry that this all had to happen."
"Just promise me you'll love and protect him for the rest of your life. That's all I ask."
There was no question, no doubt. "I promise."
"Thank you." There was a companionable silence for a little while after that. The only sound was the crunching of twigs and leaves beneath their feet, and then Trowa asked in a tiny voice, "What's going to happen to me?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean when the two of you take the throne."
Heero wasn't sure how much he should say. It wasn't his news to share so he shrugged and said, "I don't know."
"Please don't send me away." Heero could hear the plaintive tone and his heart ached for the servant. He really didn't know what it was to be free and it frightened him.
"You can stay as long as you want. I'd never forcibly send you away unless you were a threat to me, or Quatre."
Trowa released a loud breath of relief. "Thank you. That's much better than what the General would have done to me, I'm sure."
Heero laid a hand on Trowa's shoulder, encouraged when he didn't pull away. "He's no longer going to be a threat to anyone."
Trowa spoke through clenched teeth. "I cannot wait to sink my blade into his flesh. The things he's done to Quat -" he cut himself off, shaking his head. "I've been protecting him for years. Men are always - always trying to - I can't even say it. But Treize was the worst of them and he was the only one I couldn't protect him from." He paused. "The day of your Court Marshal, Treize -"
"I know. You don't have to say it. I know what he did."
"I'm going to slice him in half."
"I don't doubt that for a moment."
Trowa glanced over at him and Heero could almost see a grudging respect on his handsome face. "I wanted to be the one who married Quatre, but...if I had to choose someone else for him, it would be you."
Heero was touched by that and he smiled. "I promise I won't let you down. I'll take good care of him."
"Good, because if I ever find out you hurt him in any way, you'll suffer the same fate as the General."
"I don't doubt that either."
They reached the Mosque and Trowa pulled the doors open, stepping inside and Heero followed behind him. The Imam stood up and greeted the servant with a big smile, pulling the boy into a warm embrace.
"Trowa! How are you, boy?"
"I'm good, Rashid. I hope you're well. How is your wife?"
"Oh, she's fine, she's fine." Rashid waved a hand. "As difficult as ever." He grinned and turned to Heero, bowing slightly. "Your Highness. Forgive me for not greeting you first." The man flushed and Heero glanced around, a little embarrassed.
"Uh...you don't have to apologize for that. Really, it's fine."
"Thank you." He held out his hand and Heero grasped it, intent of shaking it. He was stunned when the holy man kissed it reverently and Heero couldn't help but blush with mortification. Zechs chuckled as he walked over.
"He's still getting used to the royal treatment." He bowed and then reached over to shake Heero's hand.
Heero scratched his head and smiled sheepishly. "Yes, it's...strange, to say the least."
"Oh, you'll get used to it." Rashid waved him off and stepped away. "I'm sure by the end of the month, you'll be sick of it. Quatre always rolls his eyes at me when I do that."
Rashid led them through the curtained off door, past a small office area and to another room in the back where a table and chairs stood at the center. "Sit down. Sit. Have some wine. My wife makes it. It's quite good."
Heero picked up a cup from the table, remembering the wine from his wedding night. It had been rather good, but he still preferred Duo's earthy blend. It was still hard to believe he was going home tomorrow. Going home as the new Prince of Ghali. He sat down across from Zechs and Trowa took the seat next to him. The other men remained standing. Heero wasn't sure, but he suspected it was a gesture of respect for him. Never sit down with a Prince unless invited. He gestured to the remaining chairs and his theory was confirmed when they immediately lowered themselves into the chairs.
Trowa was impatient, leaning forward with his hands clasped in front of him. "What's the plan?"
Zechs hid a small grin behind his cup, amused at the servant's impatience. "Assassination of the King, first and foremost. That automatically puts you and Prince Quatre as the highest authority. From there, we can arrest the rest of his followers, including his advisers, including the General."
Heero raised a brow. "Arrest? He's not going to go quietly."
Zechs snorted. "Indeed. Death is the other option. Treize will fight until his last breath."
"Then he will die." Trowa leaned back into his chair. "He is mine."
"If it's plausible," said Heero. "How do we go about assassinating the King? Are the people going to be angry? Will they revolt?"
Zechs shrugged. "We must understand that some people will be unhappy with this, but most will welcome the new monarchy. You and Prince Quatre will have to do a lot of reassuring that you have done what is right for them. The vast majority of the people of Ghali will support the two of you."
Heero eyed the blond man. "You're sure about this?"
Zechs leveled his gaze on him. "You tell me."
Heero nodded, thinking back on the day of Quatre's whipping. Most of those gathered did not seem happy about it. "Yes, I believe you're right. From what I saw at Quatre's...punishment," he saw Trowa blanch out of the corner of his eye. "Most of the people there were not in support of it."
"The trick is not only to take out King Zayeed, but also those who would willingly prosecute the assassin. That's why it must be either you, or Quatre."
Heero understood that. "I'll do it." He couldn't imagine what killing his own father would do to Quatre. Even if the King was a tyrant, he was still his father. And Quatre wasn't a killer.
Zechs set his cup down and licked his lips. "I hear you are leaving tomorrow. Is that correct?"
He nodded. "Yes. I'm going back to Sai for a couple of days. I need to see my family. Let them know I'm alright."
"You must not take too much time. The sooner this is done, the better."
"Understood. When should I?" He couldn't believe this was actually happening. He was plotting to kill the King of Ghali. Soon, he would be their King. He was still trying to wrap his head around that.
"You will have the opportunity the day after tomorrow when he returns from the Regional Summit. He will be tired. So will his men. They typically come back in the evening."
"And the General is mine," Trowa reminded them.
"You will have to wait on that until the King is disposed of."
The servant nodded and downed the rest of his wine. Heero looked over at him. "Are you sure you can do this? He will fight."
Trowa shot him an affronted look and Heero felt guilty about doubting him. There was a gleam of satisfaction, anticipation in the green eyes, the slight curl of his lips. "I'm looking forward to it."