Disclaimer: The author of this fanfiction does not, in any way, profit from the story. All creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).
Fairy Tales: rose woven
by Pout
Chapter 5: Invasion of Pearls and Perfume
“I refuse.”
Wufei set his cup of tea down on the table with a bit too much force, causing the steaming liquid within to slosh about dangerously. The youngest prince scowled and readied his most stubborn front.
Sitting calmly across the table was his mother, the queen. Taking a delicate sip, she sighed and said, “Darling, you simply cannot avoid this anymore. We’re running out of guest suites and they’re starting to stress the kitchen reserves.”
“Then we’ll just send them away. It’s not like they were invited here in the first place.”
“There isn’t a soul on the continent who doesn’t know what the prophet declared. There is nothing extraordinary about this. Now will you stop acting like a stubborn child, please? You’re one of my most reasonable children-”
“We’re all reasonable, with the exception of Duo.”
“-so act according to your station and do your duty by getting down there and meeting these fine young ladies-”
Wufei made a guffawing noise.
“-who have come from near and far to see you,” the queen finished. Setting her cup down gently, she narrowed her eyes and turned her gaze on her youngest son. “Anything less than perfect courtesy and you will disappoint me, Wufei.”
The young prince scowled even deeper, knowing that his mother was playing her trump card. More than anything in the world, Wufei hated to disappoint. He had always met and surpassed all expectations. He prided himself on being an exemplary student, prince, and son. He frowned, knowing he had been beaten into submission.
Acknowledging the concession, his mother stood and said, “Very good. I’ll be expecting you downstairs.” With a graceful flourish of petticoats, the queen confidently withdrew from the apartments.
Wufei reigned in his annoyance and grit his teeth to keep himself from ranting at full volume to an empty room. He took a deep breath and a few moments to collect himself, then made his way down to meet his visitors.
* * *
He was miserable. He believed very genuinely that this was secretly torture in disguise. Sure, they wore fluffy dresses and sweet smelling perfume, and perhaps individually, they were not so abhorrently terrible, but as a mass, the overwhelming sight of pink and sugary blues made his teeth rattle and the stench of expensive scents was assaulting his sense of smell to such an extent that the migraine that had resulted from their incessant chatter was slowly being dulled away by their flowery odor. Wufei sent yet another pleading look to his mother and was hardly surprised when she pointedly ignored him, just as she had been doing for the past three hours.
He had spent an entire morning “entertaining” a throng of visiting ladies and princesses, women and girls come from the near and far reaches to try and win his favor. At this point, he had to say that they were doing quite the opposite. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to sooth his worsening headache when the princess on his right leaned over under the rouse of reaching for the wine jug while batting her dark lashes at him. He backed away from her hungry smile, swallowing forcefully to keep from gagging at the strength of her chosen fragrance. When she daringly placed her pale, pasty hand on his wrist, he jumped up from his seat, as if recoiling from a striking snake. The hand was retracted quickly but the woman’s predatory smile remained.
The room silenced immediately as he looked out across the sea of females. Lashes were batting so unanimously that Wufei could have sworn he felt a general draft. He looked over to his mother and found her to be staring at him with a dangerously arched brow. It was clear where Heero inherited that particular expression.
“I…” he began. “I just need to step outside for a moment. Get some fresh air,” he said, finding himself gesturing madly at the window as if vocal speech would not be a sufficient means by which to communicate to the mass of glitter and perfume.
As a group, the ladies offered their company, batting eyelashes and leaning forward over the table to show as much cleavage as possible. “I shall go alone,” he declared solidly, as he bolted for the door, needing to escape as soon as possible. He knew his mother was glaring at him, so he made sure to avoid her gaze. As he pulled the door open, he could feel her stare boring into the back of his skull; it foretold of much lecturing and disappointed gazes to come.
Shutting the door behind him (and resisting the urge to lock and bar it), he made his way quickly over to the library that had long since become his private domain. Comfortable in the presence of countless tomes and volumes, books and journals, Wufei sank gratefully into his favorite chair. It was pulled up in front of the massive fireplace and as he glumly sank his chin into the palm of his left hand, he stared at the flickering flames and wondered about all the things that his brothers might be going through.
He thought back to that night, just after they had all left, when he had woken with the feel of nightmares in his brain, unable to breathe, choking on worry and fright. A storm had raged mightily that night and the dark waters of the sea could be seen tossing and churning violently even from the palace. He had stared out at the ocean for the rest of the night and somewhere in the pit of his stomach, guided by instinct, Wufei had come to a fairly sure conclusion that Trowa and Quatre had come to some trouble.
The Tritonstead should have made port at the island of Wintowend days ago. The islanders had a reliable coop of carrier birds that should have brought word of his brothers’ arrival by now. But word had not come. Instead, a flock of females had shown up, all lace and pearls.
Releasing a self-pitying moan, the prince slumped further into his seat. Those awful women, he thought to himself. One half is stupid; the other, devious. It is too bad, then, that I should only want one who is intelligent and kind. As for what she should resemble, be it a bat or a beauty, I don’t much care, so long as she doesn’t drown herself in that dratted perfume everyday. I don’t think that’s too much to ask for, the prince mused. This is not the way I would go about finding a wife, if I had my say in matters.
Indeed, this influx of insubstantial beauties had only brought money-seekers and class-promoting aristocrats. As if he would ever fall for someone of that ilk. He was fairly sure by now that his future wife would not be among those in the crowd he had met this morning. Not one of them had given him a reason to take a second look and at first glance, he had seen too much eye batting and lip puckering to retain much interest.
He toyed with the idea of setting off to the east to follow after Heero and Duo, but was forced to admit that he placed too much weight on the prophet’s instructions to blatantly disobey his wisdom. Of the five brothers, Wufei was the most obedient and filial. His pride kept him from going against the wills of his parents. Still, after years of living with his precocious brothers, their influence was ultimately inescapable. Every so often, a particularly offensive order would provoke his defiance, and when coupled with his unshakeable obstinacy, it became impossible to move him. But these times came very seldom. It took a great deal for Wufei to deign something absolutely unacceptable, so for the majority of the time, Wufei was quite compliant and his parents adored and appreciated him for it.
Still, it made things very difficult for the youngest prince when he knew he would rather be doing something other than what he was told to do. The present situation was a perfect example. He was expected to play his part diligently, entertaining and catering to the whims of these ladies, but all he wanted to do was toss them out on their overly-cushioned behinds. His mother might not find it amusing, but Wufei was sure there was nothing that would make him happier.
He wondered what his brothers might have done had they been in his situation. Heero likely would have disappeared into the wild somewhere refusing to return until every last lady had departed. There would be no compromise to his demands and eventually, the king and queen would have to give in, for an heir was no use if he refused to return to the kingdom.
Duo, on the other hand, would have enjoyed the attention of a million smiling women. He would take his time choosing, however, extending their stay until finally the food banks ran out or the king forced him to make a choice. At that point, the second prince would either draw names from a hat or make like Heero and head for the woods.
Trowa would take his time as well, but unlike Duo, Trowa would spend his time thoroughly interviewing and inspecting all contenders. Trowa’s standards would be impossibly high, and there would be no chance for these frilly women to pass muster. So in the end, he would either chose the girl who had the most points, or candidly request a better selection.
Quatre was a gentle soul and the quality he admired most was kindness. Quatre would look immediately for the most selfless individual and hope that she had other qualities to make her company enjoyable. If not, however, Quatre, being a true romantic, a believer in love and all it’s promises, would refuse to make a selection until someone had struck a chord in his heart.
That said, it became clear that none of his brothers would ever settle, especially not on an issue as important as selecting a bride. Reflecting on this, Wufei made a pledge to himself: no matter what his parents argued, he would not marry until he found a suitable wife, suitable in all the ways that mattered to him. He would not be pressured into choosing from the flock that had arrived on his doorstep simply because his mother thought it proper. He would find the right girl, and only then would he bind himself.
With his mind made up, the prince left the library sanctuary and headed for his personal quarters in order to gather a few essential items for his extended stay away from the palace.
* * *
The sand was damp but hot. The sun blistered overhead, pounding down on its victim below. The ebb and flow of the sea lapped at what little covered the beach. Driftwood, the last remains of unlucky vessels, dotted the shore. And in the midst of this wreckage lay a single battered body. With a sturdy plank still under one arm, the figure gasped, choked, and breathed uneasily. Then, slowly, eyes opened and a lost prince awakened at last to find himself in a land far, far, much too far from home.
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