Quatre waited several minutes until he was sure the General was gone, then turned onto his side, shimmying up the bed until he was able to sit. He spat into his hand and rubbed the saliva over his opposite wrist, trying to lubricate the area before twisting his hand, bringing all of his fingers tightly into his palm to make it as small as possible. He wrenched and pulled, ignoring the pain as he desperately tried to free himself. He had to get to Trowa. Had to find Zechs and figure out what they were going to do now. He was not going to allow Treize and his men to kill his husband.
The skin on his wrist chaffed beneath the steel as he rotated it back and forth. He got it lodged tightly over the heel of his hand, but the widest part would not slip through. He spat into his hand again and pulled with all his might.
"Come on...come on!"
He could feel the skin of his hand tearing and peeling beneath the cuff, the blood lubricating the way even more. He twisted his wrist again and yanked roughly, his hand slipping free and he went to work on the other. It took longer than the first, but he eventually got it out. He climbed off the bed and rummaged through the wardrobe, pulling out a linen shirt. He used it to wipe his own seed off his groin and clean the General's seed from between his legs. He tore the sleeves off, wrapped them around his bloody wrists and crept to the door, placing his ear against it. He couldn't hear any movement, or sounds so he cautiously turned the handle and peered through the tiny gap. He could see a guard stationed outside the door and he quickly and silently closed it again, glancing around for something to use as a weapon.
He spotted the General's knife on top of the dressing table and grabbed it, tiptoeing back to the door. He opened it again and crept up behind the guard. He aimed the knife to slide between the gaps in the armor and without taking too much time to contemplate what he was about to do. If he did, he would probably hesitate. He plunged the knife into his back, the blade sinking through the flesh and piercing a lung. The guard hissed, his back arching, knees bending. Quatre used the leverage of his position to place a hand against the man's forehead, the other at the back of his head and braced himself.
"I'm sorry."
And then he twisted the guard's head, flinching when he heard and felt the snap of his neck. The guard dropped to the floor, dead before he hit it and Quatre stood over him, panting, almost unable to believe what he'd just done. He wrapped his hands around the guard's ankles and pulled him into Treize's chambers, huffing at the heavy weight. He propped him against the bed and then swung his legs up, pushing at the body until it laid across it. He rolled him over just enough to pull the knife back out, then let him fall back into place. Quatre wiped the blood on the bed covers and ran back to the door, pulling it open and slipping out. He kept his eye out for any sign of more guards. It looked like the coast was clear.
He scaled the wall, quickly ducking into a room and hiding behind an old bookcase when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. He waited until they faded into the distance and came out from behind his hiding place.
He made it to Zechs' chambers without incident and hurriedly knocked, glancing around to make sure no one was coming. The door swung open and he was met with Lucrezia's teary, frightened gaze. She ushered him in quickly and shut the door.
"Y - Your Highness, you musn't be here. If they find you - find us -" She looked down at the cloth tied around his wrists and gasped. "What happened to you?"
"Miss Noin, where is Zechs?"
"General Treize has arrested him. He wants to put him on trial for treason. They're going to execute him! Treize - he threatened to kill me and the baby and Zechs begged him not to. Told him he could do anything he wanted to him as long as he didn't hurt me and the baby...I've been put on house arrest. I cannot leave this room, or they will kill me."
Quatre cursed, dragging his hands through his hair. "Okay, I want you to do as you're told and just stay here. If they find me in here, it will be bad for both of us, so I cannot stay."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm not sure yet. I have to find a way to get to Trowa and Zechs. Get them out of the dungeons. Somehow, I have to warn Heero of what will be waiting for him when he arrives."
"The dungeons will be guarded."
"I know. It's not going to be easy. They probably won't fall for the same trick twice."
"Let me help you."
"Miss Noin, no. Please promise me you'll stay here. If anything went wrong, I'd never forgive myself."
Noin gave him a knowing look. "He hurt you. Didn't he?"
Quatre nodded. "But I'm going to make sure he doesn't hurt me, or anyone else ever again. But for the sake of the baby, I beg you to stay here." He took her hands. "Promise me."
She sighed, but relented. "I promise."
"Hopefully this will all be over soon." He crept out the door, stealthily moving down the hallway. Noin watched him for a moment through the crack in the door, wishing she could do something to help him.
Quatre got close to the dungeons, ducking and hiding wherever he could when anyone got close. He clung to the shadows like a life line, his hand wrapped around the hilt of the blade as he reached the door to the dungeons, flanked by two guards. He took a deep breath and stepped out of the shadows.
"Halt!"
Quatre stopped. His hand holding the knife behind his back. He turned his biggest, most sorrowful eyes on them. "Please."
"Prince Quatre - Your Highness! You must not be here. The General -"
"Has gone rogue. He wishes to kill my father when he returns." These guards were simply grunts. They would not be in on Treize's plan to usurp the monarchy. Their eyes widened and they glanced at each other and Quatre realized his instincts were correct. They knew nothing about it.
"Your Highness...you must be mistaken -"
"He wants to kill your King and enslave me. He held out his free hand, the cloth wrapped around it red with his blood. "He chained me to his bed and raped me. I am a married man."
"My Prince - you - he -"
"Do you realize how badly it reflects on you if you allow him to get away with this? When the King returns, what do you think he'll do when he learns that the General, your General, defied the laws?"
They looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Does the King not sanction this?"
"The King does not sanction breaking the rules of the monarchy. You know this. If you do not let me through, I will see to it that you are arrested for defying my orders. I am second in command, not the General."
"But...the General - he will -"
"He is a dangerous man who is Hell-bent on seizing the throne and bringing the great kingdom of Ghali to its knees. Do you want that? Do you want to continue living in constant fear of his wrath? Do you really want him to become King?"
They glanced at each other again, then back at him. "What do you want us to do?"
"Let me through. Let me release your Lieutenant and my servant so that we can set this right. I must get someone out to Prince Heero in Sai. I must warn him of the danger he faces when he returns."
"Danger?"
"Yes. The General is planning on killing him. Would you condone the murder of a Ghalian Prince? Would you condone the execution of an Imam? Or of your Lieutenant?"
"Your Highness...this is very dangerous. He could kill us all if he -"
"What do you think will happen when he takes the throne?"
The guards shifted uneasily and Quatre knew he'd gotten them. While they may have followed Treize's orders, they did not like him. They knew what a vile, vicious man he was. And they most certainly did not want him at the helm, ruling Ghali with fear and violence.
Quatre stepped forward, his voice gentle, reassuring. "Do not tell him that I came here. You saw nothing. No one. I will not report you if you let me do what needs to be done to make sure he does not seize power. Please," he took another step. "Let me through."
They hesitated for only a moment, then nodded. One guard turned towards the door and opened it, pulling the key ring from his belt. "Please be careful, my Prince. If you get caught - if we get caught -"
"I know full well the consequences of not succeeding, believe me." He took the keys and looked up at the guard as he passed him through the door. "Thank you. I will not forget this."
The guard bowed, expression humble. "Thank you, Your Highness."
He slipped through the door, heard the click as it closed behind him, and started down the stairs. It wouldn't be long before Treize discovered he was gone. The dead guard in his place. He had to act quickly. He reached the dungeons and peered into each cell. He spotted Zechs immediately and leaned against the bars, whispering, "Zechs."
The Lieutenant jumped up quickly, his shock evident on his face. "Your Highness!"
"Be quiet. I'm going to get you out of here. We don't have much time." He slid the key in the lock and pushed the door open, cringing at the slight screech. Zechs came out, looking grateful, but worried.
"My wife..."
"She's fine. Stuck in your chambers, but she's fine."
"Are you?" He looked down at Quatre's wrists.
"I am fine." Quatre dismissed his concern. He walked further down, spotted Rashid in his cell and unlocked the door. The holy man stood up and bowed.
"Thank you, Your Highness."
"Don't thank me yet." He scaled the rest of the cells until he reached the end. Trowa was already standing at the bars having heard them coming. He leaned his head against them and Quatre pressed their foreheads together. "Are you okay?"
"Are you? Your wrists..."
"They're fine. I will be once this is over." He unlocked the door and Trowa stepped out, taking Quatre's hands in his, peeling the cloth from his wrists and wincing at the torn and swollen skin.
"What did he do to you?"
Quatre shrugged. "What he's always trying to do."
Trowa cursed and pulled him into his arms. Quatre allowed it for a moment, then pulled away.
"I need to bandage those properly."
"No time for that right now. We need weapons." He turned to Zechs. "I need to you to get some swords. We're going to be in for a fight. I hope you're up for it because this ends tonight."
Zechs bowed. "Yes, Your Highness. I'm with you."
"And try not to get caught," Quatre said to his retreating back.
Trowa was still looking over his wrists, his voice hushed. "How did you get down here?"
"The guards opened the door for me."
"What did you tell them?"
"The truth." He turned to Rashid. "Go back to your Mosque and lay low. If all goes well, this should be over by tomorrow evening."
"With all due respect, Your Highness, I am going to fight with you."
Quatre looked uneasy, but he nodded his head. "Alright. We've got to get our hands on some weapons. All I have is this knife. I'm afraid it won't do much good."
"How many men are we talking here?"
"I'm not sure how many of them are irrevocably on his side. I know there are some who are not, but I can't tell you how many. I guess we'll find out soon enough."
They walked back down the corridor. Trowa glanced over at Quatre. "Do you remember what I taught you?"
Quatre shot him an incredulous look. "Of course I do!"
They reached the door and Quatre knocked softly. It swung open and he sucked in a sharp breath at Treize's angry face. He was flanked by his men on both sides. Behind them, the guards lay dead on the floor. Treize's eyes were murderously cold, malignant as his lip curled. "You are in a heap of trouble now, my beloved."
Trowa stepped in front of Quatre, his fists raised. "You will not touch him."
Treize lifted a brow and turned to the side, gesturing to his men. "Take care of this." Trowa swung as the soldiers reached for him, employing all of his fighting skills. He punched and kicked, easily evading their strikes and taking a few of them down. But he was outnumbered as there were close to a dozen soldiers. He inevitably took a few hits to the face and head and stumbled, losing his footing. Rashid was also taken down, though it wasn't easy with his bulk. He was incapacitated by a hit to the head from the hilt of a sword and Quatre lunged at the soldier who raised his weapon to kill the holy man, the blade of his knife sinking into the man's side. The solider screamed in pain and shoved him. He stumbled backwards, caught by Trowa who righted him back on his feet and swung him out of their grasps. Trowa got a few more hits in before he was overpowered. He shouted in rage as his legs were swept out from under him and he hit the ground hard. He glanced up at Quatre, desperation in his eyes. "Get out of here! Run!"
But Quatre wasn't going anywhere. He charged Treize, his knife hand intent on the man's chest. Treize grabbed his wrist before it could make contact and twisted it. The pain of his injuries enough to loosen his grip on the blade. Treize spun him around, pulling the boy's back against his chest and pinned his flailing arms to his sides. "Bring him to my chambers," he barked at the solders as he dragged the struggling Prince along.
Quatre kicked and screamed furiously as he was dumped back onto the bed. He scrambled up, frantically trying to avoid being chained as he struggled against the General. He was struck across the face, hard enough to leave him dazed and he groaned, disoriented as the cuffs clamped over his wrists. Treize grabbed his face, turning his head to face him.
"I grow tired of this. You will learn your place and you will bow to your new King. I will keep you chained as long as necessary, but I will break you."
Quatre spat in his face, his eyes alight with the spark of hatred. Treize wiped the saliva off his cheek and snarled. "You are going to regret that." Quatre glared balefully at him and said nothing. The soldiers brought Trowa into the room. He was bloody and beaten and Quatre's heart pounded, praying he wasn't badly hurt. Treize snapped at his men. "Put him in the chair and chain him." He turned back to Quatre, mouth curling in a smirk. "He's going to be treated to quite a show."
Quatre's eyes widened. Treize was going to make Trowa watch as the General raped him. He clenched his teeth. "You bastard!"
"Quiet, slave."
"I am still the Prince!" He shouted, rousing Trowa. He jumped and looked up, glancing around and Quatre's heart clenched as he caught sight of the bruises and swelling on his face, wanting so badly to go to him. The servant's eyes met his and they darkened in agony when he realized the situation.
Treize said nothing to Quatre's outburst, turning to he men instead. "You are free to go, or you may watch. I really do not care." He shucked his clothing, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it on the floor. He unbuckled his belts and fished his erection out. Quatre glanced at the soldiers. A few had left, but the rest remained and his stomach churned at the dark gleam in some of their eyes. He caught the gaze of one young Sergeant, noticed his discomfort. He looked angry and Quatre begged him with his eyes to do something, anything. The man looked away and Quatre cursed, turning his eyes to the ceiling as Treize approached him.
"Are you going to make this easy, or are you going to be difficult?"
Quatre pressed his legs together and glared at him. "Go to Hell."
Treize nodded. "Very well." He climbed onto the bed, ignoring the sound of Trowa snarling and struggling against his chains and lifted the skirt of Quatre's tunica, exposing him from the waist down.
Quatre glanced at Trowa, pleading. Don't watch. Please. He squeezed his eyes shut as his thighs were parted, Treize wedging himself in between them. He flinched when he felt the hard cock brush against his opening and clenched his eyes shut, trying to retreat within himself. There was a rustle of chains, shouting, a strange sound a moment later, and then the bed bounced, jarring his body. It was such an odd flurry of activity that occurred so quickly, he couldn't even be sure what was happening. When he opened his eyes, Treize was still above him, but his eyes were bulging out of his head. He glanced down to see the tip of a sword sticking out from his chest, just below his left nipple. He looked back up into the man's face, watching with fascinated horror at the blood that bubbled from between his lips. He looked over the man's shoulder and spotted Trowa standing behind him. The only sound was that of the General's death rattle, an ominous gurgle that emanated from within his throat.
A moment later, Treize was yanked backwards, away from him and dropped onto the floor like a ton of bricks as Trowa pulled the blade from his back and then plunged it in again. And again. And again, an animalistic scream of rage escaping from between his lips. The soldier who Quatre had silently pleaded with walked over to the bed and released the chains from his wrists.
"I'm so sorry, Your Highness." The man was blushing, shamed. Quatre glanced up at him, so grateful. He must have released Trowa from his bindings and either gave him his sword, or Trowa had simply taken it.
"No, it's alright. Thank you." He crawled off the bed and stood in front of the rest of the gaping soldiers, his body lit with fury. "You are all going to pay for what you've done," he growled. He stepped over and pulled Treize's sword from its sheath and held it up, raising a brow when they drew theirs. "Do you really want to be the one responsible for killing a Prince?" They grinned at him, obviously not realizing what he was capable of. He stood steady, ready to fight. Trowa straightened up beside him, the soldier's sword in his hand as the two faced off against the men. The solder that released them grabbed the knife, ready and willing to fight for his Prince.
Treize's second Lieutenant sneered at Trowa. "You killed our General, servant."
Trowa's lip curled. "The pig had it coming." He raised his arm to intercept the blade that swung his way and spun around, hunkering down as his leg kicked out, foot making contact with the man's gut. He flew back a few feet, knocking into the soldiers behind him.
Quatre blocked a blow from another soldier, ducking down to avoid a swing that would have struck him in the head and plunged Treize's sword into the man's midsection. He yanked the blade out, took an offensive stance and hollered, "This ends now!"