Again, for T-bat-admin-sama-muse-san (goodness, his title is getting long these days...), with lots of love!

AU, fantasy, Yaoi, OOC, weird according my strange tastes...

Duo looked from Trowa, to Quatre, to Cathrine, and back to Trowa. *What the hell happened here, I wonder?* Trowa had seemed vaguely shocked to see Quatre and Cathrine arrive for dinner together. Why the shock? the wizard wondered. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to lure Cathrine away to give Quatre and Trowa a little privacy...

Quatre was fidgeting, continuously sneaking glances at Trowa, obviously fretting over something. What it was, Duo couldn't tell, but it was pressing on the prince's mind quite heavily.

Cathrine, on the other hand, seemed calm and collected, but was keeping a sharp eye on her brother and Quatre. As Duo noted, however, it wasn't nearly as harsh and worried as it had been even earlier in the afternoon.

Heero smirked at his lifebond, who was squirming in his seat. The curiosity was radiating off the man; the warrior was privately surprised that Duo's braid wasn't twitching like a tail with his need to puzzle out this mystery. "Relax," he whispered into Duo's ear discreetly as he leaned closer on the pretext of reaching for the rolls. "We're on vacation, remember? Let Quatre deal with his own problems."

"Then what am I supposed to do for fun?" Duo hissed back.

"You can leave that to me."

Regarding the wizard and the warrior, Cathrine nodded slightly to herself. The two of them would definitely not provide any obstacle to her calculations, although she did have to wonder if anyone's libido could possibly be *that* enduring. Then again, Duo did seem to be a fount of boundless enthusiasm, so she assumed it might be possible.

Trowa had looked so shocked... shocked and hurt and betrayed. She felt guilty about that, but then, he didn't know the entire story yet, either. Perhaps he'd understand and forgive her once Quatre had talked to him.

Cathrine shivered slightly. *I've always been Trowa's protector... but I don't think I'll be as necessary anymore. Whether Quatre is the crown prince or not, he _will_ take care of Trowa. There's no way to fake that deep a reaction...*

At the head of the table, over the last crumbs of dessert, her father was speaking. "I...I'll just leave you young folks tonight, my old bones need their rest."

*Perfect.* Her father had been the major block in giving Quatre time to explain things to Trowa. *And people wonder why I have such faith in the stars...*

"Ah, Mr. Maxwell, just a moment of your time before we adjourn to the dining room, please?"

Duo stopped, looking back at Cathrine as Heero paused as well. "Yes, my lady?"

She waved Quatre and Trowa away. "This will only take a moment, you two go on ahead." They went, Trowa more reluctantly than Quatre. Heero moved to follow, and Cathrine stopped him. "No, no, stay, please."

Duo folded his arms. "Yes?"

Cathrine coughed, seeking a relatively delicate phrasing. "I think that the two of them need some time to speak privately, don't you?"

The wizard stared at her. "Say what?"

"They need to talk, alone. And I want us--" she indicated the three of them "--to make that possible."

Duo shrugged. "Okay, that's fine with me. Heero?"

"It's acceptable," he grunted.

Cathrine smiled. "Thank you, gentlemen."

"Since when do you care so much that the two of them spend time with each other?"

Cathrine's smile thinned. "Since His Highness made the trip north, he should have every opportunity to fulfill his mission. Good evening, gentlemen."

As she brushed past them, Duo looked at Heero. "Do you get the feeling we've missed something?"

Nervous silence, ponderous and palpable and broken only by the sound of the wind outside and the fire in the hearth, hung in the air. Trowa had retreated to the window, staring out into the darkness while Quatre curled up in a chair, shifting nervously. The minutes passed, miserably slow, until Trowa spoke. "They aren't going to be joining us tonight, are they?"

Quatre sighed, glad that the silence had been broached. "No, they aren't. Your sister thinks that you and I need a while to talk."

Trowa closed his eyes and let his forehead rest against the cool glass of the window. The storm wailed on the other side, furious about something. "So talk."

"We've already done a lot of talking, Trowa. But I don't think either of us has been listening. A lot of that is my fault... anyway. Who am I, Trowa?"

Trowa opened his eyes, slowly focusing on the reflection of the nondescript young man sitting behind him. "Who... are you?" he repeated.

Quatre nodded. "Just tell me, as completely as you can... please?"

"...your name is Quatre, you never gave a surname. You like books, and you play the violin," Trowa began. "You don't like the politics of court life, but you're preparing to someday take a high position there." Quatre's reflection frowned at him slightly. "What?"

"Nothing... for now, anyway. If that's who I am, Trowa... tell me why I'm here."

"You don't know?" Trowa asked sarcastically.

"Humor me... this will all make sense later, I promise."

"You're here because I am betrothed to the crown prince. You wanted to learn about me." Trowa paused, looking for the appropriate words.

"Is there anything else that I'm here to do, Trowa?"

"..." Trowa stared at the reflection, willing Quatre not to look so earnest and concerned. "I--you--" He stopped, frustrated.

"Let me try, Trowa... a court official, sent here on official business, taking advantage of the situation for his own purposes. does that sound familiar, Trowa?"

Trowa's jaw flexed. "Cathrine told you."

"Not really... I put it together myself while she was chastising me." Quatre shook his head. "A truly formidable lady, your sister." Trowa made a slight noise, perhaps of agreement. "Trowa... do you think that's why *I'm* here?"

Moving with great deliberation, Trowa turned away from the window, staring at Quatre. "Do I?" Quatre flinched slightly at the ragged edge to Trowa's voice. "Tell me, Quatre, what *else* am I supposed to think?"

The prince looked away. "I don't know... I'm sorry, Trowa. If I had known, I would have done this differently."

"It's not important." Trowa returned his gaze to the window.

"Yes it is. It's very important," Quatre disagreed. "What... who was it?"

"Why?"

Quatre paused. "Why what?"

"Why do you act like you care so much?" Trowa watched Quatre's reflection, the mouth opening soundlessly as Quatre fumbled for the explanation.

"Because--I do care." Quatre repeated it, a little stunned by the enormity of it all. "I *do* care," he said softly. "I didn't think it was possible... not so soon."

*I want to believe him.* Trowa closed his eyes, not wanting to see the expression of confused wonder on Quatre's face any more. "Please. Give me a little dignity, Quatre. Don't lie about--that."

"I'm not lying!" Quatre retorted. He shook his head. "I can explain all this, really I can... I'm *not* who you think I am."

"Haven't we already had this conversation?" Trowa asked.

"Yes. No. Just hear me out, please?" Quatre waited, then ploughed ahead when Trowa didn't move or speak. "I don't--didn't--believe in destiny. I thought that the stars had nothing to do with our mortal lives."

"You've changed your mind, I take it?"

"I don't know."

"My heart goes out to you during your crisis of faith."

"There's no need to be so snippy about it," Quatre huffed, mildly annoyed. "Anyway, as I was saying... I didn't believe in destiny. So I talked Duo into helping me sneak up here to meet you, so I could at least see you once before..." Quatre gulped nervously. "Before our wedding."

Trowa's eyes shot open, and he spun around so rapidly that Quatre was amazed he hadn't lost his balance. "What?"

"Quatre Raberba Winner... at your service." Quatre shook his head. "I just wanted a chance to get to know you--the real you, not whatever mask you would have put on to please the court and the crown prince. I really only wanted to get an idea of how well this would work... I didn't realize how complicated it was going to get. So, again... I'm sorry."

"It's not possible. *He* never travels outside the Eternal City--not with only two friends."

"Officially, no. Duo snuck me out... we're really supposed to be in seclusion at one of the country estates. It's a pre-wedding sort of tradition," Quatre explained. He held up empty hands. "I don't have any proof... just my word. And you have no reason at all to believe me. So maybe I should have just stayed at home, to let things take their course.."

"Cathrine *believed* this?"

"Maybe. She didn't say for sure. But she wanted us to talk anyway." Quatre looked away again. "I'm sorry... I didn't think it would go this far so quickly."

"I... I need to think," Trowa said quietly.

"We can leave in the morning," Quatre offered quickly.

Trowa looked back at the snow and ice lashing at the window. "Can you?"

"Duo will magic us away," Quatre replied. "If you want us to go." He took a deep breath. "I never lied to you about what I think or feel, Trowa, I swear."

"I need to think," Trowa repeated, hurrying past Quatre's chair, closing the door behind him softly.

Quatre slumped lower into his chair, stare morosely into the fire.

Listening for movement in the hall outside her door, Cathrine was acutely aware of the moment Trowa's door opened and shut almost silently. She slipped out of her own room, padding across the hall on noiseless feet and knocking quietly.

Trowa opened the door almost immediately, holding the door open for her to enter.

There was no point in pretending, Cathrine decided. "How did it go?" she asked briefly, after he had closed the door. She moved to the chairs by the fireplace, choosing a seat.

He took the opposite chair, dropping his head and allowing the fall of his hair to hide most of his expression. "You set me up."

"Sorry, Tro. I thought the two of you needed it, though. Especially after what Quatre said to me..."

"You believe him."

"I want to, yes. I'm not sure yet... It's far-fetched, but he seems pretty determined, the kind of guy who could do such a thing. And Duo and Heero seem the sort to endorse the scheme."

"Sounds like you've made up your mind." He sounded faintly accusatory.

"Maybe I have, at that. Whoever he really is, he's starting to get very attached to you, little brother. Having him on your side at court wouldn't be such a bad thing," Cathrine said slowly.

"Ah. I see."

"What do you think?"

"I don't know, Cat... not yet."

"Try to get *some* sleep tonight, Trowa," she said, rising. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Trowa listened to her departure and then permitted himself to relax into the chair, staring into space and trying to put some order to his thoughts.

"What in the name of holy hell?..." Duo groaned, as someone pounded on the door insistently.

Heero mumbled sleepily. "'s still *dark*..."

"You go answer it."

"No."

"But you're the strong, brave warrior!"

"Wuzzat got to do with it?"

"The floor's too cold for my feet!"

"Idiot." Mumbling to himself, Heero staggered out of bed, only barely remembering to grab a blanket to wrap around his waist before yanking the door open. "*What*?" he growled.

Quatre blinked at him, looking haggard. "I need to talk to Duo."

Heero yawned. "Can't it wait?"

"Maybe," Quatre allowed, hesitantly.

"Good." Heero closed the door in his face.

"What the hell did Quatre want?" came the sleepy mutter.

"Dunno." Heero crawled back into the warm bed with a sigh of relief. Smirking slightly, he curled himself around Duo's warm body, sticking his chilled feet against Duo's bare skin.

Duo yelped. "Ack! Damn it! Get your cold feet off me!"

Heero chuckled softly. *Vengeance is _so_ sweet.*

On the other side of the door, Quatre shook his head, rueful. *That's what I get for waiting till the middle of the night, I guess...* He turned away, shuffling down the hall. Sleep wasn't an option, not with so many worries pressing on his mind. *I'll go to the library and read till I'm tired.*

He had only just selected a random book from a shelf and settled himself when a small noise at the door startled him.

Trowa looked slightly put out. "I didn't realize anyone was in here."

"Can't sleep," Quatre said, lifting the book. "I thought I'd read for a while."

"Me too."

"Sorry. I'll leave the room to you, then." Quatre half-rose from the chair.

"Don't. You were here first," Trowa said shortly. He picked a book and turned to go.

"Have you listened to the wind? It's starting to die down," Quatre said suddenly. "The storm might be over by the time morning comes."

Trowa shrugged. "Maybe."

"Goodnight, Trowa."

"Goodnight, Your Highness."

Then Trowa was gone.

Quatre groaned quietly, letting his head drop into his hands.