Ehm. If the part NO. is screwed up, it's cause I forgot which part I'm at. Enjoy?
When You're gone Jim Morrison.
Disclaimer: Don't own them, don't sue.
Warnings: Swearing, weird stuff. Nothing too bad.
Pairings: 1+2, 3+4, 5+S, 13+6+9
Comments: Throw whatever you want at me, I'll like it.
Archiving: You want this? take it.
Notes: I don't know what Quatre's mother's maiden name was, so in honor of my pal, Sebbie, She gets his last name. It's pronounced "Mielsharek", in case anyone's wondering.
St. Petersburg, The Winter Palace
Noin stood against the wall of the ballroom entrance nonchalantly watching the persons gathered around the large Oak table that graced the middle of the room.
Lady Hellewise Une was sitting quietly at one of the chairs with Treize sitting to the left of her as they conferred quietly in some matter or other.
Sylvia Noventa, the fourteenth head of the Moorea house was listening to Milliardo as he spoke of yet another treaty that was being hammered out between several of the colonies.
Although the participants seemed calm, there was an underlying tension in the room as they waited for the last player to appear.
Noin looked at her watch and frowned to herself. They had already been waiting for an hour and it looked like Dorothy Catalonia was going to flaunt the authority of both the Gangerli council and the heads of the Ulfrics.
"Spoiled bitch." Noin muttered as she looked around the room again and saw the tension rise up a notch in the room as the realization hit all of them at the same time.
She abandoned her post by the door and walked up to Treize, who paused abruptly in his conversation with Lady Hellewise Une.
"Should we wait any longer?" She asked him quietly.
"For what, Lucreiza?" Noin stiffened when she heard her name spoken in that lazy drawl.
It took all of her will-power not to growl at the bitch that stood behind her. No one except Milliardo and Treize called her by her first name. And that was usually in the privacy of their bedroom.
She turned around and gave Dorothy Catalonia a level look, but said nothing. She only took her place at the left side of Milliardo, while Treize moved to his right.
"Why have you called me here?" She asked as she sat down with a fluid, almost boneless ease so common to all shape-shifters and glared at the Ulfric triumvitare.
"We have called you here because of your activities, Dorothy Catalonia." Milliardo told her.
"You must stop your vendetta against the Guardian and her son. Leave them be."
Dorothy shook her head. "I will not. She helped to kill Brynhild, and for that I shall make her pay. I don't care about your authority. I will punish her as I see fit, whether you approve of it or not."
Milliardo shook his head. "You already are standing on precarious ground, Catalonia. Cease your madness and let the matter rest. Brynhild deserved her fate. She knew what would happen if she fought the Guardian and the Slayer. You would do well to let that matter rest."
"No! I will not, Milliardo. Not only did she kill Brynhild, she has also broken one of our laws and that is enough for me to pursue her. It is only my right. As an enforcer, I have the right to hunt her and her illegally begotten off-spring." Dorothy protested angrily.
Sylvia shook her head. "Dorothy, Listen to your Alpha. Cease finding weak excuses for bringing trouble to us. The Guardian was never a true vampire. The rule that a lamia vampire and a shape shifter cannot breed doesn't apply to her. You cannot use it to destroy her and her offspring. Especially when that offspring is the son of Quatre Winner. If you don't let this matter rest, we will all have the Slayer hunting us down!"
"Why would the Slayer be involved in this matter? The indiscretion of the Guardian is up to us to punish. The matter is out of his jurisdiction." Dorothy protested.
"He will get involved in this matter because you are offering violence to a nearly human woman and the mother of the next Mielczarek heir, whose father happens to be a close friend of his." Treize informed her in a quietly amused voice.
" What?!" Dorothy squawked out. Treize nodded in confirmation.
"You didn't know that Quatre is descended from the Mielczarek line, did you, Dorothy?"
"That's ridiculous!" She exclaimed. "That line died out with Quaterina Mielczarek."
"Quatre's mother." Hellewise Une replied softly, her eyes glittering as she spoke.
"And you know very well that the line is very well revered by the witches. They gave us sanctuary when the inquisition was burning many of us. An Inquisition started by Brynbhild."
Treize flinched at the coldness in Lady Une's voice. Although witches practiced the three-fold law, they had long memories. And the fires that nearly wiped them out were never away from their minds. Especially when they had to deal with the threat that Brynhild presented.
" We mainly survived because of their efforts. Once it is known that you are attacking the next heir of the line, you shall be destroyed. With my blessings."
"The Vampires have to agree with the witches. We too, have ties with the Mielczareks. They helped in creating the council and hammering out a treaty between us and the Templars that assured our survival and let us live amongst the humans."
Syliva Noventa said in a quiet voice. "We respect both the Slayer and the Mielczarek heir. You will receive no help from us in your quest."
"You are nothing but cowards!" Dorothy spat out as she stood up, her eyes burning with anger.
"Brynhild was working to give us a new world! A world where we wouldn't hide from humans! A world where we wouldn't be the ones hunted down! Why would you let that idea die? If we can achieve it, we will never have to be hunted again!"
"No Catalonia." Milliardo spoke up.
"That idea is simply a horrific dream of Brynhild's. She would have made us suffer twice as much as we already have. And if you continue to pursue this foolish illusion, you will split us apart. Not to mention the fact that you are signing your death warrant by going after the Mielczarek heir."
"We won't condone any actions that you take, Dorothy. Nor will you get any support or resources from us. Your seat from the council has been revoked and whatever action you take, you alone will have to face the consequences alone."
Treize stood up from his seat and looked at his cousin coldly.
"From this day forth, you shall be considered a rogue werewolf and not an Ulfric. Now leave us. And may God go with you, because none of us ever will."
New Edmonton, Our Lady Peace Hospital
"Nicholas? Are you insane?" Sally asked once she had arrived at the hospital and had heard what had happened.
"I know that she is in pretty bad shape to be moved, but she is in danger." Nicholas told Sally as they watched Pilar stir restlessly in her sleep.
"And you heard what Krushenada said. She will be safer somewhere else. Although I have put spells around the room, I fear that they won't be strong enough to deter another attempt on her life."
Sally bit her lip. "I know that you are right. But I fear that she is too fragile to be moved and that she will take longer to recover from her wounds."
Nicholas frowned as he moved closer to the bed and looked down at Pilar.
"It's a chance we should take if we want her to be alive for a bit longer." He replied softly.
Sally nodded. "It's a hard choice to make. But If we don't take it, a little boy will have no mother and a man will have to live through her death a second time."
She sighed. "Let's get her ready then." Nicholas nodded in assent.
"Let's go then. I have already secured the proper documentation for her release."
New Edmonton, Chang Residence.
Quatre looked at his companions in bewilderment. He couldn't really believe what Trowa, his Trowa, had just said to him.
"Trowa! How could you say that?" Duo admonished the tall Spaniard, who only glared at him.
Instead of replying, Trowa turned to the still Quatre, who held the happy wolfling in his arms like he was some sort of precious talisman.
"Because it's true. Isn't it Quatre? " Trowa spat out angrily. "He is your son, isn't he?"
Quatre's mouth opened and closed as she fought to find the words to express the emotions that were running rampant through his mind. So he remained quiet and buried his nose into the boy's head, seeking to find comfort in the simple contact with the innocence of the child in his arms.
He nearly dropped the child when the unique scent of his hair hit him.
"Quatre? Are you all right?" He faintly heard Duo ask as he inhaled the strange, yet pleasing scent of Sandalwood mixed with his own unique musk.
"I know that scent." He thought as his mind raced to place when he had last encountered that scent. "I know it. I remember it from that night... Oh Fuck!"
"Quatre?" He felt Duo's hand on his shoulder, but he ignored the comforting weight of it as the memories finally presented themselves to him.
He woke up in her arms, with her hair providing a cover for both of them. It was like a silken coverlet than felt like nothing he had ever encountered before.
Not only did it keep the morning's chill away, it also enveloped him with the mingled scents of their bodies. Sandalwood and wolf musk, making him feel both safe and loved.
Scents that to him, would forever remind him of the pleasure that he experienced in her arms.
He took a handful of hair, moving carefully as to not wake her, and inhaled the scent deeply.
"I shall always have it." He thought with drowsy pleasure as he settled down in her arms again.
"I shall never forget it." Was his last thought before he drifted to sleep again.
Quatre looked up at the angry, closed face of his lover and felt his throat suddenly close up.
"Yes." He whispered as tears began to fill his eyes. "You are right, Trowa. He is my son."
He admitted in a bitter and choked voice as the words somehow got out of his throat.
Trowa laughed. An unpleasant sound that reminded everyone of a wounded cat.
"Who is his mother, Quatre?" Trowa asked then, his voice going low and dangerous.
Quatre swallowed hard. Could he really tell Trowa the answer that he was demanding of him? Could he really look his husband and calmly tell him that Pilar was the mother of his son and live with the repercussions of the confession?
How could he tell him that when he didn't know what to feel about the child in his arms?
He looked at the child, who looked up at him with a trusting and open expression that made Quatre's tears flow.
When was the last time he had encountered such innocence? He asked himself as he studied the face so like his own, except for the line of the brow and mouth, which were his mother's. The eyes were a perfect mixture of his and Pilar's dark eyes, and noticing this made the ache in Quatre's heart soften somewhat.
Even though he had lost the boy's mother, he had his son. A son that would help ease the ache of losing Pilar. A son that would grow up differently from him. A son that would always be loved. If he could only find his mother....
He realized, as he looked at the boy, that the only negative emotion that he felt right now, despite the potential loss of Trowa, was the regret that he had not known about his son sooner.
"Where is his mother?" He suddenly asked in the silence that had fallen between all of them.
The front door opened after he had spoken, revealing Sally and a tall man that was carrying a girl wrapped up in a blanket.
"Oh no." Sally whispered as her eyes fell on Quatre and Gabriel. Wu-fei frowned at her words.
"What's the matter?" He asked, feeling nervous at the sudden tension that had entered the room the minute Sally and the tall man showed up.
No one spoke. Everyone stood as still as stone. The only sounds in the room were of the girl shifting restlessly in the tall man's arms.
"Hnnh. Gabe?' The girl whispered at that moment, her eyes flickering open and shut as she tried to fight her way out of the deep sleep that she had been in. She moved her head then, and dislodged the thick braid her hair had been in, making the hair fall in loose, shining waves.
Quatre let out a small, choked noise when he saw the dark, rippling masses of hair framing the girl's face.
"Pilar!" He cried out, his voice broken. "Pilar! I've found you! Pilar!"
"Oh fucken hell." Duo whispered as he noticed the horrified look on Trowa's face.