Title: The
Ice Prince or Such a Marvelous Rose
Author: Meiran Chang
( bonking_bishies @ swirve.com )
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: DorlianXSylvia,
1+R, 6+2, 3+4, 5+Dorothy, 6x9, 2xH
Warnings: shonen
ai, AU, fairy tale, angst, verrrrrrry mild self-insertion in, like, the
last sentence. I made Dorlian a total OOC wuss >_<. Also, I've played
fast and loose with family relationships and situations.
Comments: Ohhhhh
pretty please? --> bonking_bishies @ swirve.com
Archive: 6X2ML Archive
can have it. Otherwise, please
emailme, I don't bite.
Disclaimers: I do
not own Gundam Wing or any of its characters, they belong to Bandai and Sunrise
and the American rights are owned by Cartoon Network. Please don't sue
me, I'll just cry a lot. Also, the original story of "Beauty and the Beast"
is by Mme Leprince de Beaumont and not mine either. I don't own anything
except... the original portions of this piece of fiction...whatever they
are.
Dedication: To the
6X2ML, because they're darlings all and the inspiration for this
fic.
The
Ice Prince
Chapter VIII
That night, Duo dreamed of a black-haired boy with serious black eyes, dressed in pure white robes. "I admire and commend your bravery," the boy told Duo. "So I came to tell you, do not worry. You needn't fear the Beast."
"How do you know?" Duo asked, voice ringing softly in the eldritch voids of his dream.
The solemn boy actually smiled, and Duo realized that he had wings, powerful and beautiful like a dragonfly's. "Trust me," he said. "The Beast will only do you good. Now awake."
And Duo awoke.
The dream lingered through breakfast. It did make him feel a bit better about his situation, and he made certain to tell his father of it in the Dining Hall. Though Dorlian was comforted a little, the dream did not prevent him from weeping bitterly as he bid his son goodbye.
Dorlian's misery was infectious. As comforting as the dream had been, it was only a dream, and his father's anguish was real. Soon, Duo was fighting off tears, feeling helpless, alone, and frightened. The Beast was a terrifying mystery, and surely a monster who'd sent his father away from him would have no problem eating him for dessert!
He collapsed in an armchair and put his face in his hands, sick with dread. Grim scenarios played out in his head, each darker than the one before it, and he had to struggle to pull himself together, countering his imagination with what logic he could muster. Hadn't he told Quatre that boys didn't cry? He couldn't start sobbing now, and besides, sniffling about how scared he was wouldn't help anyway, not if the Beast really wanted to eat him.
He didn't even have real confirmation that the Beast wanted to eat him, he reminded himself. The creature hadn't seemed very hungry last night, hadn't concealed drool or pinched Duo's cheek to see how plump he was. The Beast had been calm and collected, quite a contrast to Duo's mute fear. And when he spoke to Duo, his voice had been kind.
Duo really didn't know if the Beast planned to eat him, so he would deal with that situation when and if it arose. In the meanwhile, he should do something useful, or at least think about something else. The Beast intimidated him, but no one could sustain paralyzing fear for hours on end.
And there was hope, wasn't there? There had been that endless moment, and the bare touch of warmth to those slit-pupiled eyes as the Beast bade him goodnight, and the gentleness of his deep voice.
"The Beast will only do you good," had said the dragonfly boy of his dreams, and until he had proof otherwise, Duo would trust that the words were true.
So Duo stretched in his armchair and bounded up, smiling at last, ready to face the day, when he realized that for the first time in his life, he had absolutely nothing to do.
The smile faltered.
Okay... well, the manor was enormous. He could always go exploring.
The pale light from the window caught his attention, and Duo crossed the room and pushed the heavy curtain aside, resting an elbow on the windowsill and looking out at the flowering courtyard beyond. How a courtyard could flower in the middle of winter was beyond him, but it was certainly beautiful. Perhaps the Beast was a gardener.
He entertained himself briefly by wondering what occupations the Beast could possibly have. Singer? Intrigued by the thought, he followed it a bit further. Certainly that voice was melodious enough for it. And though those claws were dreadful, if retracted or trimmed, they might be able to handle instruments. How exactly would one go about trimming claws -- saws? Machetes? Scythes?
Duo didn't even stop to wonder when he had stopped thinking of the Beast as "it" but instead got up to run through the manor at lightning speed, just for the slightly foolish thrill of racing through a Beast's mansion.
As he ran, he glimpsed a door marked "Beauty's Room." Curiosity sparked, Duo screeched to a halt and regarded the door warily. The door looked innocent enough, but the Beast was so obviously a magical being that Duo would give even so innocuous an object as a door second thoughts.
Then again, thought Duo, the Beast seemed a person less than fond of deceit. After all, wasn't that why his father had gotten in trouble in the first place, for stealing that thrice-damned rose?
So Duo opened the door and stepped over the threshold.
To his surprise, a massive library greeted him, lined with bookcases. Duo could only gawk. There weren't this many books in White Fang University! He wandered through the place, dazed, and nearly stumbled over what was clearly to be his "bedroom." It was a tidy corner of the library, complete with a half-curtained window that let in the pale golden sunlight, a plush bed done up in scarlet with an elaborate headboard, a night table with a chest of drawers beside it, and a wardrobe built into the wall. On the bed, resting on their cases, were a twelve-stringed gittern, a normal lute, and a flute -- Duo inspected them, they were all by the master Quinze -- as well as several slim books on music. Dazzled, Duo glanced at the night table, on which lay a charcoal-stick and several sheets of paper. Evidently he would still be able to tinker with composition. Carefully he shut the precious materials in one of the empty drawers and laid the instruments in their cases, then slid them under the bed.
There was even a mirror on the wall next to the wardrobe, and Duo glanced at himself, singularly unimpressed. The mooncalf minstrels of White Fang had driven him insane, and for what? Yes, he had huge eyes of an interesting color, and yes, he did have rather fine features and yes, he agreed that his hair was gorgeous, but those qualities could be found in other people as well. He was just "lucky" enough to be "blessed" with all the qualities people considered "beautiful." Really, he would have preferred to be admired for his intelligence, like Quatre. His "fans" among the bards and ladies had treated him like a glass statuette, and those who envied him had treated him like pond scum. Either way, his face and body had only brought him trouble and blinded people to seeing his talents -- to even caring if he had other qualities.
He stopped himself in mid-diatribe -- this train of thought was not conducive to a good mood -- and noticed that in glittering golden letters atop the mirror, it read, "Your wish is my command, for you are prince and master here."
"Eh, that's convenient," Duo muttered under his breath as his heart twinged forlornly. "All I really want is to see my father--"
No sooner asked than granted; at once, the mirror began to sparkle. Duo yelped and jumped back as pink and purple motes of light drifted lazily across its surface. The mirror did nothing more threatening than continue twinkling as Duo's racing heartbeat gradually slowed.
Once he had managed to calm himself, he re-approached the mirror. He put his hands on his hips as he stared at the infernal thing. The rubies and sapphires on its golden frame glittered prettily. "Don't... do anything funny," he warned it. Then the reality of how ridiculous he must look, talking to a mirror, registered. He put his face in his hands and tried not to scream.
This is all so mind-numbingly stupid. Why am I in this situation? Why am I in this enchanted manor with a Beast who gives me presents? Why am I not at home, putting the laundry away? Why am I talking to a MIRROR?
He could feel a headache coming on and picked up his head again. After all, he was here; he probably wasn't going to get out any time soon, and he had to accept that. Now, this mirror... Well, he could put two and two together as well as any idiot. The writing on the mirror said that his wish was its command; Duo had said he wanted to see his father; the mirror was probably chewing the request over. So, the mirror was magical. Magical, and stupid. And slow. Excellent, he really needed magical objects right now on top of everything else. Duo sat down on the edge of his bed, feeling sour, and watched the mirror's sparkles fade dramatically.
The jewels on the frame continued glittering in the sparkles' absence, and in the glass was a vision of Wing's feet picking their way across a rocky stretch of road.
"That's not my father," Duo told the mirror flatly.
Blush-pink sparkles blossomed across the mirror's surface. Once they faded, the view panned out until Duo could see his father on Wing's back. The merchant's face was lined with grief, and his nut-brown eyes were dark with pain. His shoulders drooped, his brown hair was limp against his head, and even Wing seemed to clop along heavily.
A knot formed in Duo's throat as he stared at his beloved father. This was not fair -- not to him, and not to his father. It took two tries before he got his voice to work satisfactorily.
"That's... enough," he told the mirror hoarsely. "Thank you...."
The mirror obediently went blank, tiny white sparkles glimmering cheerfully all over its surface.
With an explosive sigh, Duo fell back onto the bed, which was soft and comfortable. He crossed his arms behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. A magnificent chandelier hung in the middle of it. For a while, he watched the light reflecting off the candleholders' diamonds and thought.
What did all of this mean? 'Beauty's Room' on the door, and inside, this massive library, this cozy little corner, everything rich with comforts, with things he liked. The expensive instruments, the enchanted mirror -- even the clothing he was wearing now, which he'd found draped over a chair in the room he'd fallen asleep in. Come to think of it, actually, he'd fallen asleep in the dining room, too scared to get up and find a place to rest. He'd woken up to the sound of birdsong in the softest bed he'd ever encountered, sunlight shining in through unfamiliar curtains. In the morning, he hadn't noticed that because he was miserable, but now that he thought of it, the only rational explanation was that the Beast had carried him there. But then, why would the Beast have carried him there, and not here, where Duo was clearly meant to sleep from here on in? Did that mean the Beast wanted him to find this room himself?
Was this room a gift? Could it be that the Beast possibly meant well?
Was it possible that the Beast didn't want to eat him after all?
A rush of hope swept through him, and the diamonds on the candleholders twinkled.