The Trees They Do Grow High (part 2/4)

[Eienvine]

4xD, AU

Thank you to those who reviewed last time- it always makes my day.

Disclaimer: Same as always. I do not own Gundam Wing, all though I wish I did, because I would send Dorothy off to work on a banana plantation and keep Quatre for myself. Oh, wook at the wittwe guy, he's so cute!

And happy birthday to my beloved little brother, who will never read this posting, but I want to say it anyway. Woot!

All right, now I'm done.


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The Trees They Do Grow High

part two





?Oh, Father, dear father, if you do see fit
Send my love to college for one year yet
And tie blue ribbons all about his hair
For to let the ladies know that he's married."






The next morning Dorothy awoke early and went down to eat her breakfast. Quatre, already seated at the table, smiled when she entered, but she ignored him. She grabbed a loaf of bread and left the hall immediately, heading out to the stables. She spent the day out riding her favorite horse, Hecate, visiting all the places she loved.


When she returned late that night, she found Quatre at the table, holding supper until her arrival. She flopped ungracefully down in a chair and ate quickly and silently. Her husband, apparently uncomfortable with the silence, talked to her all the while, though she never answered. As soon as the meal was done, Dorothy hurried to her room, where she read a book until the low light from the candles began to hurt her eyes. Snuffing the lights, she stripped down to her shift and fell into her bed, feeling very satisfied with the way she?d spent her day.


Many weeks passed in this way. Dorothy spent all of her time out of doors or in the stables. How Quatre spent his time she wasn?t sure, but he had a large collection of books, and most likely whiled away the hours with them. When evening fell, Dorothy would go to supper and find Quatre always waiting for her. He would always spend the entire meal talking to her. After a few weeks of this, Dorothy began responding to his conversation. She discovered that he had some good ideas, but many more bad ones, and she took great delight in arguing with him. Although he usually let her win the arguments, they were an interesting way to spend the meal.






As the summer turned into fall and days began getting shorter, supper began to be served earlier. Once the meal was done, Dorothy had many hours to fill before she slept, and her books were beginning to bore her. By mid-October, she had begun to spend some of her evenings playing chess against Quatre. He?d challenged her to a game once, and wanting to prove her superiority to him, she?d accepted. She?d won that game easily, which annoyed her. ?Don?t try to mollycoddle me,? she?d said warningly. ?There?s no glory beating you if you don?t even try.? Quatre had smiled. She hadn?t won a game since then. Quatre turned out to be a master chess player, and though Dorothy refused to admit it, she learned a great deal from playing him.


As they played chess, Dorothy and Quatre would continue their discussions from supper, though more casually, as they were both concentrating on their games. In these peaceful, unguarded moments, Dorothy would sometimes find Quatre looking at her with a content smile on his face, as though to say that he was happy that she was there. At these times, she would make a snide remark to remind him that he was only a way for her to pass the time. His eyes would inevitably drop quietly to the chessboard as he meekly accepted her insults, and she would smile at having put him back in his place, and the game would continue.


There was only one time that they had a serious disagreement. They were discussing politics and ruling systems when Quatre inadvertently implied that he felt that the duke of Dermail was a tyrant. Dorothy stood immediately from her chair. ?Do not speak so disrespectfully of my grandfather!? she shouted. Quatre immediately blanched. ?I didn?t mean for it come out that way- I?m sorry-? Dorothy was beyond listening. ?He is great man, and a great ruler, and a great fighter, and he is ten times the man you will ever be!? She stormed out of the room with all the rage she could muster, and carefully avoided her husband for the next two days. By the end of the second day, however, she was back at the chessboard, looking for a gap in Quatre?s defense.






Winter came mildly to Catalonia. The wind turned colder after All Saints? Day, and by the end of November there was a dusting of snow across the high hills around Catalonia House. Dorothy?s daily rides began getting shorter and closer to the castle, as neither she nor Hecate enjoyed going into those hills when they were covered with snow. Instead, she spent much of her time in the ruins of the old courtyard, where the fallen stones caught the weak sun and the leaves of autumn still clung to the trees. The courtyard, situated directly behind the castle, had been abandoned in favor of a newer one some hundreds of years earlier. Besides being warm and quiet, it was always empty and there were no castle windows looking on to it, so Dorothy could be quite alone while there. She would change into breeches and tie her hair back, then practice with a wooden sword her grandfather had given her. No stone or tree was safe from her attacks.


One day in late November, Dorothy was taking a break from her sword and resting in the sun on a fallen stone. Her reverie was broken when footsteps sounded behind her. Whirling around, she saw her husband walking into her sanctuary. In one hand he held a wooden practice sword similar to her own. Dorothy immediately felt annoyed at his presumption that she would want to spar with him, but at the same time she wanted to know which of the pair was better. Her curiosity overcame her annoyance, and without words she picked up her sword and stood to face him. Quatre smiled and lifted his sword.


Quatre turned out to not to be nearly as good as the duke or any of Dorothy?s uncles, but he was very agile and had beautiful style. The pair were very evenly matched opponents. Dorothy had better technique and more skill, but tried to follow the duke?s example of relying on strength, which she didn?t have much of. Quatre had obviously spent less time in his study of the sword, but he was quick and very clever.


Their match ranged all over the courtyard and lasted until Dorothy felt sure her arm would fall off. Finally, she managed to disarm Quatre and advanced on him, sword tip pointed at his throat. He backed up and tripped, falling onto a large stone. Dorothy smirked and fell onto a large flat stone next to him, dropping her sword and sighing in relief. Quatre turned to her and smiled. Though Dorothy didn?t smile back, she didn?t frown, either, and that seemed to satisfy the fair-haired young man at her side.


After that, Quatre came out to spar with her almost every afternoon. During this time they rarely spoke to each other, concentrating instead on the fight. Dorothy won more often than Quatre, but not by much. They were so closely matched in ability that he turned out to be a perfect sparring partner. Over time, they both began improving greatly, though Quatre didn?t seem to care if he was any good with a sword at all.


Dorothy soon realized that she spent most of her days in Quatre?s company: they would eat breakfast together, then she would read while he tended to business affairs. After the midday meal, they would change clothes and go outside to the courtyard. After they were both too tired to continue their sparring, they would go inside to change clothes, then go to dinner. After they?d finished eating, they would play chess and talk until they went to their respective rooms to sleep. It nettled her somewhat to know that she depended on her husband for entertainment, but she told herself that once the weather warmed up again she would return to her daily rides and be out of his company.






They spent the month of December this same way, except on Sundays, when they attended Mass at the tiny kirk on the hill overlooking the castle. As the feudal lords of the land, they had a special pew reserved for them; behind them sat the castle?s few servants and the peasants from the surrounding lands. The priest was a kindly old man who had been at the kirk for longer than anyone could remember; he had married Dorothy?s parents and christened her a few days after her birth. Dorothy attended church faithfully- her family had been devout Catholics for hundreds of years and she held their religion as a matter of pride. Quatre had no such reasons, but he still attended faithfully; sneaking glances at him during the meeting, Dorothy suspected from his reverent manner that he attended because of strong religious beliefs. Another weakness, she would think to herself with a smirk.


Christmas was a small affair, because of their isolation; still, they held feasts and celebrations on each day between Christmas and Epiphany, as feudal lords ought to do for their subjects. The celebrations were simply smaller than most. The housekeeper took care of all of the arrangements, as Dorothy had little interest in such affairs. Still, sitting at the head of the table, granting a kiss to the peasant who was named king of the revels, she felt a certain sense of belonging and pride at taking over the offices she had once seen performed by her mother. All in all, Dorothy found herself feeling somewhat content with her present lifestyle, a feeling which was rather unfamiliar to her.






Three days after Epiphany, Dorothy and Quatre were sparring in the courtyard. The sky overhead was gray and heavy with the threat of snow. Dorothy, practicing a lunge Quatre had taught her, found herself having too easy a time disarming her blue-eyed companion. ?What is it?? she asked, breaking their unspoken rule that their time in the courtyard was for sparring only and not conversation. ?If you?re not going to spar properly, leave now and stop wasting my time.? Quatre lowered his sword and smiled at her. She simply looked at him, knowing he knew exactly what she was talking about it. He looked at her a moment, then sighed at her stubbornness.


?I?m leaving next week,? he said, and Dorothy felt an unfamiliar feeling briefly pass through her, constricting her chest. What did he mean by ?leave?? Not for good, certainly? ?I have to return to my family to attend to some business affairs,? he added, and Dorothy felt the feeling in her chest loosen.


?How long will you be?? she asked him, wondering even as she said it why she cared. ?I hope to return before the end of Lent,? he replied. Dorothy looked at his warm, affectionate expression, then realized she was gazing at him with concern in her eyes. Immediately she straightened and tossed her braided hair back over her shoulder. ?Hmm,? was all she said.






Quatre left the next Wednesday, Dorothy and the servants coming to the door to see him off. As the stable hand loaded his trunk onto the carriage and the servants began to walk back inside the castle, the fair-haired young man approached his wife nervously. ?Dorothy,? he began, ?I worry about you being here alone. What if something should happen to you? Maybe you should go stay with an uncle, or . . .?


Dorothy felt herself begin to get angry at his inadvertently condescending words. ?I am not the weakling you think I am, Quatre,? she said lowly, glaring up at him through dark lashes. ?I survived without you for years, and I will be fine without you now.? ?Dorothy-? he began, putting a hand on her shoulder, but she walked away and into the house. Stopping at the door, she turned back to him. ?Just leave,? she said angrily, and he looked at her a long moment before climbing into the carriage.


Walking back into the castle, Dorothy smiled at having asserted her independence once again. She had put her weakling husband back in his place. Then her smile faltered. She had reminded him exactly how she felt- or did not feel- about him. She had triumphed. Why, then, did she suddenly feel so sad? An image of Quatre?s face just before he?d gotten into the carriage came, unbidden, into her mind- his bright blue eyes dimmed, looking sorrowfully at her. Why did it bother her? Almost without thinking, Dorothy walked to the front door again and watched the carriage drive away until it disappeared out of sight.






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Woo hoo! Post number 100! They should really give you a prize or something for this. Yay for me! One hundred posts of my life have been wasted on this website. That makes me feel all tingly inside. Wait- I have an idea. You all could give me a special 100th post prize by reviewing! Yes? What do you think? Hmm . . . right. Woo hoo.

[Neoen]

Yay! You updated! And it's your 100th post. Congrats!

This was a really nice chapter. It showed in a subtle way how Dorothy is beginning to get use to Quatre and accept him. I enjoyed it. Update soon!!