it Down to Learning + Chapter 19 (cont)
The Man Behind the Myth
forced himself to make the appropriate admiring comments. He still couldn't
bear to look at Treize, see the man forced to listen to the story of his
mother's rape... Another part of him marveled at how well this story had
been hidden. He vaguely remembered his father talking of the death of
Treize's parents. The story had been that they were both killed in a riding
accident. They had had an elaborate funeral his father had gone to earth
to attend it. Quatre wondered suddenly if Treize had known anything differently
until he too had come under the thrall of Polynices.
"She died after two years. It was most annoying, but she was older than
most of our clients wanted, anyway. She was a novelty really, so her loss
didn't hurt the business. But, when she was gone, I found... " Polynices
frowned, and hesitated for a moment. "My revenge was incomplete," he said
slowly, as though verbalizing the idea for the first time. "I no longer
had anything of Andreas'. It was... frustrating," he said inadequately,
scowling. "Now, I'm practical enough to know I was never getting that
land," he acknowledged reasonably. "But, I wanted... something. I couldn't
get at the boy, here," he scowled, "and I can't even tell you, Quatre,
how it angered me to see him fooling the whole world, as his damned father
had. Everything came as easily to him as it did to Andreas. I was pleased
when he died, but when I found out he wasn't dead... " Polynices smiled
slowly. "It was like a gift from the Gods. It was beautiful. I negotiated
for his purchase... but White Fang was greedy," he said, shaking his head
sadly. "I was forced to take steps of my own."
Quatre jumped, physically startled by the sudden realization. "It was
you?" he demanded disbelievingly.
Polynices laughed. "Guilty!" he admitted brightly.
There had been, nearly six years earlier, a sudden, violent outbreak of
hostilities in one of the most remote colony clusters. Nothing had come
of it, but the Preventers had investigated, and there had been some indication
that the remnant of White Fang had been involved. No one had ever been
able to figure out what had actually occurred.
And no wonder!
"The boy has been with me since then," Polynices gloated. "It's been...
such a joy to me to have my family around," he laughed whimsically. "He's
been a challenge you have seen for yourself that he is not always obedient,"
he acknowledged. "I could have broken him more thoroughly... but he suffers
more, as it is," he said shrewdly. "The pleasure that would come with
destroying him is nothing to the pleasure I get containing the spirit
that longs to be free... That is exquisite."
Quatre look at him, startled by the perception and eloquence with which
Polynices made this remark, but the older man's attention was on Treize,
and so he missed it.
"I've been working on getting the other... the child," Polynices continued.
"She's too well guarded. But the time will come... she's getting older,
and she'll be striking out on her own, and I'll have my opportunity. How
old is she?" he demanded, turning his attention abruptly to Quatre.
"The child... " Quatre blinked, Polynices' lightening changes confusing
"The child!" Polynices repeated impatiently. "My grand-niece," he chuckled.
"Oh. Mariemaia," Quatre managed. "She's... she's fifteen," he managed,
fighting not to shudder at the idea of Mariemaia in the hands of this
"Fifteen!" Polynices chuckled. "Time does fly! I would have loved to have
her when she was younger... I don't share your dislike of youth," he chuckled.
Quatre laughed back, ruefully accepting the teasing even as he fought
back his disgust.
"But, there's a lot who'll pay a great deal for an older virgin," Polynices
was continuing blithely. "If I don't decide to take that for myself, that
is," he reflected. "Or provide it as a gift to my favorite possession,"
he chuckled wickedly, grinning at Treize.
Quatre felt physically ill at the idea of Treize being forced to violate
his own daughter. This was a particular sickness of which he hadn't formerly
suspected Polynices. But the man had taken his own nephew, fantasized
about forcing the father to take his child... One part of Quatre's mind
reminded him wryly that anyone who chose to name himself after a figure
in the Oedipal myth could hardly fail to have a strong fascination with
incest1. The rest of Quatre's mind despaired that he could
make light of even such a horrendous situation as this. Was he truly that
sick? Was Polynices right in seeing these similarities that the other
man insisted existed between them?
"Maybe I'll get her when they send her to college," Polynices mused. "That
would be a nice irony. But I'd rather like to get that guardian of hers
"Commander Une?" Quatre blurted. He blinked. He had an excellent imagination,
but he couldn't for one minute imagine Une as one of the Order's prostitutes.
She'd yell at the clients, and critique their performance...
"She's been a thorn in my side for years," Polynices nodded. "I'd love
to have her see her failure... see the child she raised part of this...
Quatre made a small, involuntary sound of protest, by managed to turn
it into a laugh. "That's certainly an interesting idea," he told the older
man admiringly. Poor Mariemaia. Une was never going to let her out of
her sight again.
"But, that's another project for the future," Polynices said with regret.
"It'll be all the sweeter for waiting, however," he pointed out brightly.
Quatre stared at Treize. The ginger-haired man looked up slowly, and Quatre
read murder in his eyes. Almost unconsciously, he nodded. The movement
was tiny, almost unnoticeable, but it was there. He had to let Treize
know, somehow, that he agreed. Polynices must be destroyed.
The blue eyes widened a little, then turned away. But Quatre had seen
the flash of satisfaction in them.
He seemed to have acquired an ally on the inside.
But how to communicate with him...
"Anyway, Quatre, I'm sorry! I've rambled on so long, and after I promised
you a taste of my favorite!"
Quatre stared at Polynices, nonplussed. Shit. He was expected to... make
use... of Treize.
I'm not going home, Quatre thought wildly. I'm just... not.
I'm leaving, and I'm going somewhere else. No one can make me go back
there. I'll go back to the office, and they can check me out there, and...
And maybe he'd escape getting his ass kicked by Zechs.
"How do you want him?" Polynices demanded eagerly, staring at Quatre.
Quatre stared at him for a moment, then looked at Treize. Shit. There
was no way to get out of it without arousing Polynices' suspicions...
"I want his mouth," he said finally. "I had to listen to enough of his
speeches... now we can see if he can use it for something more constructive."
He laughed with Polynices, despite the way he was cringing inside, imagining
the reactions to this conversation back at the headquarters. If Zechs
didn't kill him, Une would.
"You heard him, boy," Polynices barked at Treize. "Show him what you can
Wordlessly, Treize rose to his feet and climbed to the bed. Quatre lay
back on the pillows and spread his legs wide, as helpless in his way as
Treize, feeling humiliation rise hot inside him. He didn't want to do
this any more than the other man did, but he had no choice either.
The former OZ General knelt between Quatre's legs and bent down. His eyes
came in contact with Quatre's for an instant, and the older man flexed
his shoulders slightly.
"Oh! My good man, could you undo his hands?" Quatre called to Polynices,
adjusting himself more comfortably on the pillows. "Why let him do half
the job, after all?" he laughed.
Polynices chuckled and moved forward on the bed. "Good idea," he agreed,
and Quatre heard the clink of metal as Polynices undid the chains on Treize's
hands. The ginger-haired man used his freed hands as leverage to adjust
himself more comfortably between Quatre's legs, and the blond gasped as
he felt one cool hand stroke his testicles, and the other come to rest
on the sensitive skin on his inner thigh.
The gasp was echoed by Treize, and Quatre felt the man's breath puff over
his own hardening arousal. He looked down the length of his body and saw
Polynices caressing Treize's body, his fingers sliding into the other
"Really, now," he reproved mockingly, "I thought I got him this time!
I didn't know I'd have to share."
Polynices laughed, and regretfully moved away. "You're so greedy, Mr.
Winner," he said, shaking his head in mock sorrow.
"I was never much for letting the other children play in my sandbox,"
he joked in return.
"Am I at least permitted to watch?" Polynices asked, his voice heavy with
"But of course," Quatre replied graciously. He looked down toward the
man between his legs. Treize glanced up once, and Quatre saw the significance
in his gaze. Then Treize lowered his head, and Quatre groaned as he felt
the other man's mouth around his arousal.
A few seconds later, he gasped in surprise as he felt Treize pinch his
inner thigh. Polynices had settled himself beside Quatre on the pillows,
and the angle prevented him from seeing the gesture. Quatre knew it must
imply something, but couldn't figure out what it was...
It didn't help that Treize's mouth was moving over his arousal, alternately
licking and sucking him, stroking his testes, distracting him from guessing.
Then the pinch again, then that tongue and that mouth and...
Wait! Quatre jumped, as realization struck him. The pinch came again,
then... . Three licks. Then Treize's fingers caressed him. Then he sucked
hard three times on the tip of Quatre's erection. The caress. Three more
licks. Then the hidden pinch. Again, the pattern repeated.
Three, pause, three, pause, three.
A pattern... a... code...
It was Morse Code!
Treize Kushrenada was sending him the SOS signal, in Morse Code, through
the application of his lips and tongue to Quatre's penis.
His life was utter, absolute farce.
The caress was the break between letters, the pinch that between words.
Treize was always clever, but this... this took the cake.
Talk about thinking under pressure.
Now, he had to communicate that he understood, and somehow keep track
of the message. This form of communication had an inherent flaw Quatre
didn't know how long he'd be able to keep himself from reacting. He hoped
he'd be able to control himself long enough to get the whole message.
"Oh!" he managed to gasp. "Allah! That's so... oh, so
good... " he moaned, emphasizing the sounds of the letters Treize was
communicating to him. He wasn't really worried about Polynices picking
up on anything, but he hoped Treize understood. If he had to sit here
and only get an SOS the whole time, he'd lose his mind.
But he hadn't needed to worry. Treize resumed his ministrations with new
energy. His mouth moved quickly, his fingers sure, never faltering in
his pattern. Quatre moaned, and writhed, crying out nonsense, as he struggled
to catch the pattern, translating the sensations into letters and words
in his mind, doing his best to put on a good enough show for Polynices,
to keep the older man's attention on him rather than on Treize.
Finally, he could take no more, and he shouted in ecstasy as he emptied
himself into Treize's mouth. He opened his eyes and looked down, and saw
Treize staring at him as he swallowed his seed. He closed his eyes and
allowed his head to droop in a half nod, reassuring the other man as best
he could that his information had been transmitted.
Well. He knew that the security center was in the center of the building,
accessed via a hidden door near the sign of the main staircase. He knew
where the slaves were kept when they weren't being used, and how to get
there from this room. And he had a message for Zechs.
Amazingly, that had been the first message Treize had passed him.
Back during the war, Treize had been similar to Heero in some ways his
job had been more important than anything.
It appeared that some things some priorities, perhaps had changed.
How the hell was he going to explain this to Zechs?
He couldn't imagine.
He couldn't begin to imagine.
Maybe his earlier idea was best... he would just not go home, and would
send them an email.
Great idea. He could just see the subject line "Re: Coded Fellatio."
This mission was going to be the end of him. If their enemies didn't kill
him, his friends would.
At that moment, Quatre hoped that the end came sooner, rather than later.
1: The Oedipal myth is the precursor to the story of the Seven Against
Thebes. Laius and Jocasta, King and Queen of Thebes, abandoned their infant
son after a prophecy which stated that the child would grow to kill his
father and marry his mother (ew). So, they gave him to a trusted woodsman,
who was supposed to kill the child. Unfortunately, he couldn't kill the
innocent babe, so he left him in the woods to die, telling the King and
Queen that he had killed him. The baby was found by seven dwarves, and
brought to their cottage... no, wait, that's another story. He was adopted
by the King and Queen of neighboring Corinth, who never told him he wasn't
their natural-born son. He grew up, and went to an Oracle to find out
about his future. The Oracle told him he would kill his father and marry
his mother (ew). This horrified him, because he thought the King and Queen
of Corinth were his real parents. So, to save them, he left Corinth and
went to Thebes! On the way there, he killed this rich guy with a bad
attitude (yep turned out to be Laius). He saved Thebes from the Sphinx,
and was rewarded by being allowed to marry the recently widowed Queen,
Jocasta (ew). It was only after fifteen or so years, and four children,
that anyone realized that Oedipus was the guy who had killed Laius, and
that he was actually the baby who was supposed to be dead, and thus he'd
married his mother (ew). So he freaked out, blinded himself, and eventually
died. It was his banishment and death that led to the whole succession
question between Polynices and Etocles which eventually led to the war
of the Seven Against Thebes. The cycle of plays which tells that story
Oedipus Rex, Oedipus at Colonnus, and Antigone are by
Sophocles. They were written a couple of centuries after The Seven
Against Thebes, and are much better reads, from a modern stylistic
perspective. I highly recommend them. Also, this story is the one that
lends its name to that handy little psychological term which Freud coined
and was so interested in. Because of these stories, any boy who loves
his mother is diagnosed as having an Oedipal Complex.
[part 18] [back]
[part 20] [back
to Shoori's fic]