People tried not to stare at the sight of Colonel Yuy carrying a tray in his hands as though it were made of glass. The cooks were used to him by now, and usually greeted him with familiarity when he came in the morning and evening; he never answered in words, or to their unspoken query as to why he always took enough food for two people, but they saw enough of him to realize that there was more to him than the Perfect Soldier that was all most people knew. This, though, was a different area of the camp, and people who were not so used to him stared as he picked his way among the grimy tents and worn mud paths, searching for one place in particular. He ignored them; normally Quatre and Trowa came to visit him, instead of him looking for them, but this morning he couldn’t sit still and wait.
“Trowa?” he called, hesitating as he approached the entrance to the tent. “Quatre? Is anyone here?”
“Oh, Heero? That you?” came Quatre’s voice from within the tent, shortly followed by the petit healer himself. “Trowa’s not here just now, he’s gone off to argue with some engineers about the placement of the stables. Did you want to talk to him?”
“Actually, I suppose I wanted to see you more,” Heero replied.
Quatre stopped, concerned. “Is it about the boy?” he asked anxiously. “Did something happen?”
“No. Well, yes, but nothing bad,” Heero corrected himself, feeling an inexplicable glow of pleasure as he remembered. “In fact, he’s doing much better. He actually spoke to me last night, and again this morning...”
“He’s talking? This is wonderful news!” Quatre cried enthusiastically, echoing Heero’s own thoughts, but much more vocally. “I was beginning to think that the injury on his throat might have damaged the voicebox. It cut deep enough that I couldn’t be sure.”
A flash of dismay ran through Heero at the thought; he’d never even contemplated the possibility. “Why didn’t you warn me that that might happen?” he growled.
Quatre looked slightly guilty, but made the attempt to justify himself nonetheless. “I didn’t really think you needed all the gory details, Heero.”
“That was not what I would consider a trivial detail,” Heero snapped.
Re: Spoil of War, prologue
Date: 2006-02-27 11:22 pm (UTC)People tried not to stare at the sight of Colonel Yuy carrying a tray in his hands as though it were made of glass. The cooks were used to him by now, and usually greeted him with familiarity when he came in the morning and evening; he never answered in words, or to their unspoken query as to why he always took enough food for two people, but they saw enough of him to realize that there was more to him than the Perfect Soldier that was all most people knew. This, though, was a different area of the camp, and people who were not so used to him stared as he picked his way among the grimy tents and worn mud paths, searching for one place in particular. He ignored them; normally Quatre and Trowa came to visit him, instead of him looking for them, but this morning he couldn’t sit still and wait.
“Trowa?” he called, hesitating as he approached the entrance to the tent. “Quatre? Is anyone here?”
“Oh, Heero? That you?” came Quatre’s voice from within the tent, shortly followed by the petit healer himself. “Trowa’s not here just now, he’s gone off to argue with some engineers about the placement of the stables. Did you want to talk to him?”
“Actually, I suppose I wanted to see you more,” Heero replied.
Quatre stopped, concerned. “Is it about the boy?” he asked anxiously. “Did something happen?”
“No. Well, yes, but nothing bad,” Heero corrected himself, feeling an inexplicable glow of pleasure as he remembered. “In fact, he’s doing much better. He actually spoke to me last night, and again this morning...”
“He’s talking? This is wonderful news!” Quatre cried enthusiastically, echoing Heero’s own thoughts, but much more vocally. “I was beginning to think that the injury on his throat might have damaged the voicebox. It cut deep enough that I couldn’t be sure.”
A flash of dismay ran through Heero at the thought; he’d never even contemplated the possibility. “Why didn’t you warn me that that might happen?” he growled.
Quatre looked slightly guilty, but made the attempt to justify himself nonetheless. “I didn’t really think you needed all the gory details, Heero.”
“That was not what I would consider a trivial detail,” Heero snapped.