Over the next several days, Quatre and Trowa kept running into each other, though now this time not quite as literally. Apparently, Trowa's more common running routes were through the guest quarters. Catherine accompanied him on occasion, and acted as interpreter when the youth had something to say. The pair became fairly close, and it was not long before Quatre asked a question.

"Trowa, your sister said that you cannot read. Is that correct?"

The servant nodded.

"Well, do you want me to teach you?"

Trowa blinked. Quatre, who by now was starting to learn how to look past Trowa's rather blank expressions, saw that he was confused.

"Is it such a difficult question?" the desert prince asked. "I am well versed in several languages, and have been reading since I was three. I do not know how good a teacher I will be, but I would hate to see you not know the joys of reading. It is like when you use your hands. Certain gestures for you mean certain words. Letters in a certain orders also mean words. I don't think that it would be so hard. Will you let me teach you?"

A blink. An ever so slight furl of the brow. Trowa was thinking. The eyes became distant, the face became soft. Then, a slight curve of the lips. And a nod. Trowa agreed.

The desert prince smiled. "Thank you. I do not know how much I can teach you, as I will be leaving soon. But I will teach you as much as I can!"

Another nod.

The next day was prince Duo's coronation. It was a lavish event, with everyone dressed in his or her finest and richest clothes. Even the servants, who were not required to wear anything fancy, had dressed up in honor of their friendly prince. The ceremony itself was long and boring, but afterward the party lasted for several hours as everyone tried to shake the new kings hand and look at his crown.

But even Duo had his limits. The now mountain king managed to slip away from the crowd and hooked up with the desert prince and his newest friend, the deaf servant. The pair were in Quatre's room, huddled over a table and a small pile of paper.

Quatre looked up to the newly coroneted king. "Congratulation, my king!" he said formally.

"Not you too!" the braided king whined. "Tell me at least you will keep calling me just Duo!"

Quatre laughed. "Of course! My king."

Duo made an unpleasant noise and plopped down next to his cousin. "So. Wacha doin'?"

"I am trying to teach Trowa how to read."

Duo blinked. "For real? How's he doing?"

Trowa, who had been oblivious to the conversation, handed a piece of paper to the desert prince. Duo snatched it from his hands, however, and read it out loud.

" 'My name is T.' Hey, I thought it was Trowa. 'I am eighteeen years olld.' A few spelling mistakes there. What else? 'And I will go with Q.' Who's Q?"

Quatre flushed. "That is me!" he exclaimed. He looked to the green eyed servant. "You want to come with me?"

A nod. And then more gestures.

"Man, I wish Cathy was here," Duo muttered. "And besides, why the T and the Q?"

The desert prince, torn between two conversations, looked to the mountain king first. "In his language, he uses certain signs to mean names. The T raised to his chin is his name, a C held at his heart is Catherine. And a Q by his cheek is me. And Trowa just said," Quatre added, turning to the servant, "that he wants to know if it is okay to come with me. Is that right?"

A nod.

Duo blinked. "Don't tell my you're starting to understand him??"

Quatre turned to his cousin. "Well, yes. A little bit. I have been teaching him to read, and he has been teaching me to speak. I am not very good though."

Trowa knocked on the table to get his attention, and then shook his head. He pointed to Quatre and made to movements with his hands.

"Meaning?" Duo asked.

"That I am all right," Quatre replied. "I am beginning to wish Catherine was hear. I am having trouble holding two conversations at once. And I am still so shocked that Trowa is willing to leave your kingdom to come with me. I have told him about the problems we are having, yet you are still willing to come."

Trowa nodded and looked to the mountain king, making more movements with his hands.

Smiling nervously, he glanced to his cousin. "Translation, please?"

Quatre smiled. "He is asking permission to leave your country and to go with me. He is very formal about such matters."

Duo nodded and stood up. "In that case, my first royal decree is that Trowa accompanies my cousin, prince Quatre to his far off desert land. He is allowed to bring what and whomever he wants, and all expenses will be paid out of my pocket! May you learn much from that distant culture, and enjoy the benefits of the sunny day that is so rare in these mountains!" He looked to Quatre. "Was that a formal enough reply?"

That sent both of them into peels of laughter. Even the silent Trowa was smiling.

It was late winter in Duo's country, and because of that the currents were too dangerous to journey back home over the sea. So Prince Quatre, Rashid, Trowa, Catherine, and company instead went over land. Quatre personally preferred the land to the sea, as it was more solid and constant. And he loved traversing the snowy silence of Duo's forested mountain kingdom. It was a sight very different from his blazing desert at home. There was a stillness in the air; a kind of frozen quiet that calmed the desert prince. The green-eyed servant Trowa also seemed at peace in the forest. The youth blended into it with his bark colored hair and pine needle eyes. With the light snow that frosted his features, he seemed almost one with the trees. A forest prince in his element. Quatre made this observation to Trowa and the youth gave a faint smile.

::I was born in woods like these. And I hope that in such a beautiful place is where I die.:: he said. ::There is a mysticism about the forest. An air of elegance that I have not found anywhere else. This is my home, more than any village or castle. More so than even Catherine I think would understand.::

Quatre nodded in agreement as he watched the snowfall.

By sea, it took only two weeks to go from home and back. By land, however, it took two months. But it was a journey well enjoyed by the entire party. Despite the cold winter chill the "forest prince" was able to show people just how beautiful a forest was at that time of year. Via Quatre and Catherine's translations, Trowa was able to point out various animals as the made their homes, gathered foods, and talked to each other. The green-eyed youth explained how it was that trees became smaller in the higher elevations, and why deer ate tree bark in such cold months.

Also during the journey, Trowa and Quatre continued to learn from each other. The forest prince read through all the books that Quatre had brought along, and the desert prince soon was able to read and understand Trowa better even than his own sister. Through Trowa, Quatre slowly began to know what it truly meant to listen to a person. To read their body language and expressions. Through Quatre, Trowa learned all the different ways people talked to each other. The different languages and styles of writing and types of slang.

The journey seemed all too short as the traveling party crossed the last mountain and entered a much warmer climate. Trowa gazed with awe at the sight that lay before him. Beyond his beautiful green bushes and tall trees was a vast ocean of golden sand. It was something neither he nor his sister had seen before.

::What is it?":: he asked.

"That is my home," Quatre stated. "That is the desert."

The party stopped as a small trading post and switched from horses to camels, a beast that Catherine and her brother approached with some apprehension. Much to the amusement of their companions.

"The camel will not bite you," Quatre said to the knife thrower. "He is a gentle beast who can roam such a large desert with very little water.

"But," Cathy said. "He is huge! And ugly like nothing else I've seen! Surely such a monstrosity cannot be as kind as you claim?"

Quatre laughed. "Watch," he replied. The desert prince walked up to the camel and placed his hand on the creatures nose. "Hey, boy. Could you do me a favor and stand up, please? I want to show you to someone." The camel nuzzled the prince's hand and did as he was told. Catherine gave a yelp as the camel reached its true height and calmly walked over to her. Trowa, not far away, gazed in quiet awe.

"You see? He likes you!" The camel lowered his head and liked the performers face, resulting in a shriek from said woman and a very different hairstyle. The beast merely shook his head and nuzzled by his laughing master.

After some of the giggling had subsided, Quatre handed the siblings more appropriate clothing to wear and the group set off again. During this last leg of the journey, Quatre became very quiet as he carefully examined the state of his kingdom. The trading posts had gotten smaller, and there were less quality items to take. And while the people put on a happy face for their prince, he could see the discontent in their eyes. Something had happened when he was away. Something big enough that even the nomad traders were looking at royalty with a weary eye.

The forest prince touched the desert prince's sleeve. ::Quatre?::

::Yes?:: Quatre answered in Trowa's form of speech.

::Why do these people look at you with disgust and hatred?::

::I am uncertain, Trowa. My country has never been in the greatest of political states. The Winners came to power when an old and beloved ruler had died. And we were just as loved for several hundred years. But for as long as I can remember, someone has been pulling strings and causing uprisings. Only radicals would follow him. People in cities and in lower standings. Now even the indifferent nomads look upon my family with caution. I do not know why.::

::Are you a distant monarchy? Does the public see you little and know you little?::

::No. We have made it a point to be very open with everyone in my country. In the desert, you tell people when you find an oasis else those people will die. It is a way of survival.::

::So you give back to the people the benefits of your power? If you have earned a surplus, do you give some of it back to the poor? The weary?::

Quatre paused, thinking. ::I always thought that we did. But I do not know the exact finances of our family. Unfortunately, I am not yet king. Only upon my coronation will I know for sure. That is the law.::

Trowa nodded, he himself deep in thought.

"Master Quatre, what is all that signing about?" Rashid asked.

Quatre looked to his bodyguard. "Trowa was asking about our country. He was curious if our family gives back some of the profit that we reap. I know we do have a huge profit; but do we give back the excess to the people?"

Rashid thought about it. "I am not sure myself. Only the king ever knows where exactly all the money comes from and goes. Should I ask him?"

The desert prince shook his head sadly. "No, you better not. He shall have another fit if he finds out that I am asking about something forbidden to know."

The rest of the journey was quiet. Quatre entered the city with little ceremony and quickly made his way to the castle. His castle was much better than his cousin's in his opinion. It was very open, with huge windows and balconies that let in the entire day's worth of light. It had billowing, light drapes and elegant towers; with wide, well lit hallways and huge rooms with ceilings dozens of feet off the ground. As much as he loved visiting Duo, this was home.

It took a few days for everyone to get settled, particularly Catherine and Trowa who were not used to such hot weather.

Prince Quatre did not want to make them work, as he considered them his quests. But Rashid pointed out that they were servants and must be treated as such. Reluctantly, Quatre pondered as to what job would earn them the most pay. He did not think that his father would enjoy a knife thrower or an entertainer. At least not of a different culture. She had proved her self a good cook, however, and he installed her as such. That decision proved to be a wise one, as the other women of the kitchen were fascinated by her and soon very welcomed by them. Trowa was more difficult, however. Quatre did not feel that a runner was a good enough position with one as intelligent and insightful as Trowa. At the same time, his inability to speak made the more suitable jobs impossible. Neither Quatre nor Catherine could teach an entire country just what the movement of hands meant.

Then an idea came to him, and he reported to his father.

"How was the trip?"

"It was good father. Duo's coronation went smoothly and he is now properly installed as the new king."

"Very good. I know how fond of your cousin you are."

"Yes, father. As his first royal decree, he gave me two of his servants that I had gotten to know during my stay. They are Catherine and her brother Trowa."

"Yes, I saw them when you entered the castle. What roles will they play?"

"Catherine is pleased in her new station as cook. She does a fine job and gets along well with the others."

"And the other?"

"Trowa I wish to make my personal assistant."

"What?"

"Father, I will be king in two years time. I must do everything I can in preparation of that event. I must start to gather around me a circle of trusted advisors who will aid me in my most difficult decisions. Trowa is my first choice, as he is intelligent and insightful. My second choice is Rashid, my bodyguard. He is strong and wise. The closer I come to my twentieth birthday, the more I will be introduced to your circle, and from them my circle will grow." The prince looked up. "Do you approve, father?"

King Winner looked to the desert prince with narrow eyes. "What is it that you are not telling me?"

"Nothing, father."

"Where is this Trowa now?"

"He is in his quarters. It is taking him time to adjust to our hot climate, as he has lived in forests all his life."

"And what does he know of our country?"

"During our journey home I have told him everything that I know, and he has learned much by watching our people."

The king once again looked down at the youth kneeling before him. His eyes were still narrow. "There is still something that you are not telling me. But I will allow this game of yours. If he proves to be a good advisor and assistant to you, then I will permit it. Do you understand?"

"Yes father."

And so it was.

Months passed, and Trowa and Quatre soon became inseparable. It was rumored that the two shared a secret language that only they knew. And Trowa's quiet nature became infamous. Several servants tried several times to get him to talk, but to no avail. No one thought that the youth could not hear nor could he speak. His intelligence and advise to the desert prince was invaluable. The green eyed servant could slip into a room unnoticed, observe the happenings even if the conversations were held at whispers, and report back to his prince. It was not long before Quatre was more informed about the goings on of his kingdom than even his father.

The king did not like that one bit.

He frequently called in the prince and demanded that he stop interfering with the running of the kingdom. He was not king yet, so there was no need for him to be "curious" about the government.

Quatre was able to counter; saying that because he was to be king that he must have as much knowledge in advance as possible, lest he enter this monarchy in total confusion as to his duties. It was especially important, the desert prince said, in such time of political turmoil.

King Winner could do nothing against that argument, though he tried many different paths. Most of them focused around Trowa, claiming that a foreigner cannot possibly understand the protocols and taboos of their desert kingdom.

To this prince Quatre heatedly defended his assistant, saying that the "forest prince", as he had come to be known, had a keener sense of "protocol and taboos" than most aristocrats, let alone commoners. And the servant reported consistently that it was the aristocrats who seemed to fuel the political catastrophe that had been falling around their ears, especially of late.

Winner would then scream to Quatre that a servant could know nothing of the aristocratic class, and that the perpetual crisis that was their kingdom began with the merchants and the traders, not the noblemen.

On this point, the desert prince was well armed, desperately pointing out various disservices that each and every nobleman outside of their family did to the people in their own estates, let alone the populous of their holdings. Nobility was not a birth right, Quatre would say in a pleading voice. And it was time that they start giving titles to those worthy of it. It was a possible solution to the countries problem.

It was there that their by now scream fest degenerated to incoherency. This argument was continued at almost regular intervals, leaving both the king and the prince more and more distant with each other.

It was after such an argument that Quatre found himself staring at a glorious sunset that was bestowing itself upon the desert. The yellow sun was surrounded in a red sky, fading gently to the purple night. The sandy dunes had changed their color from a blinding gold to an indiscernible color. It was beautiful to watch, but somehow, Quatre couldn't bring himself to enjoy it. He felt as though he had come full circle. It was a sunset like this and an argument like this that had started him on this path. Because of Trowa's reports, he now had a much better idea of what to do when he ascended the throne. Before he had be upset because he could not make his father see. Now he was upset because he did not thing his country would last the two years until his coronation.

Quatre looked down over the edge of his balcony. Below him was the garden that he had begun as a child, and in it he could see Trowa. It was undoubtedly the forest prince's favorite part of the castle, as it reminded him of the greenery of his home that he loved so much. The youth looked up from the tree he had been sitting in and waved to his prince, his eyes bright in the sun's dying light. Quatre gave a weak smile in return and beckoned him to come up.

Trowa, still the acrobat of his performer days, climbed up the tree with natural dexterity. Reaching the top, he jumped off of its branches, reaching a great height, and managed to get a handhold of Quatre's balcony and lifted himself up.

Quatre blinked. Trowa was always so full of surprises. A brief smile touched his lips before Quatre lead the silent servant into his room, flopping defeatedly onto the pillows of his bed. Trowa sat in front of him; a habit that allowed him to talk and listen to the desert prince with greater ease.

::Do I assume correctly that the summons to your father did not go very well?::

::Quite correct, I'm afraid. No sooner do I enter a room that he begins to yell at me.::

::I can always stop gathering the information. That appears to be the root of your conflict, and I would not want to be the reason you and your father fight.::

::I appreciate that, Trowa, and I thank you. But this has been going on long before you decided to come with me. Things have only gotten worse because now I am more informed and can give better arguments. And the fact that I no longer care if he is upset about me. I am more concerned about just fixing everything once I get to the throne.::

::One may describe that as an appropriate attitude for a king. The ability to put his personal feelings aside to rule his country.::

::Do you think that?::

::No. I have found in my experience that a king must be a compassionate man. He must be strong willed in his decisions, but gentle and kind when he makes them. In leadership, there is no black and white. There are several hard decisions to make, and there are no easy answers. You are beginning to see that in its most extreme; so that in the future you will reflect upon these days and things will become easier. Never loose your compassion, Quatre. It is what will make you a good king.::

::Thank you. I needed to hear that. Tell me, what do you think of my father?::

::I find that he is indeed very compassionate and strong willed. But I do not feel that he is open to change. He has been to set in the ways of tradition and he is too willing to look the other way. He does not like being proven wrong, and will do anything to avoid such a conclusion. He is a very insecure man. And to have his own son go against his beliefs must be very unnerving.::

Quatre looked to the forest prince. ::I had never thought about it like that. He gets so mad and so loud. It is hard to think of him as insecure.::

Trowa gave a small smile. ::Then perhaps I am at an advantage. I cannot tell if he is loud or quiet. But I can see his face. His face is red in anger, and his mouth is open in rage. But his eyes are wide in shock. I watch him fight with you, and I see it is harder and harder for him to ignore your points of persuasion. He is afraid of being wrong, perhaps because he feels that it means he's failed his kingdom.::

The desert prince frowned. ::Why are there never any truly bad people? Why cannot anything ever be as simple as right or wrong? I do not wish to worry my father so much, but the weight of the crown is on my shoulders and I haven't even worn it yet. I am too aware of how scared my people are and how much they want an end to this turmoil.:: There was a pause, as the two young men sat in their thoughts. One worried about his kingdom and his family, the other was concerned about his prince.

::Tell me something,:: Quatre said. ::How is it that you can see so deeply into people?::

Trowa blinked, surprised at the question. ::I suppose it is at least in part because I cannot hear. I can instead 'listen' to people in other ways. I see how they react to things said, and then how others react to what he says. I watch their face, their body language, where they are, whether they are standing or sitting. I look at the people he is talking to. Are they weary of that person? Are they nervous? Or just uncertain. Do these people meet this man often? What are their opinions of this person? Then back to the person do I look, repeating the process all over again.::

Quatre whistled despite himself. ::I never realized that you did all that. How can you keep track of it all?::

The forest prince shrugged. ::I always have. It was how I survived in some of the more brutal places my sister and I have lived. And Catherine has always told me that I have an eye for detail. I observe more by nature than choice I think. It is as much an instinct for me as… as you being able to find an oasis.::

The desert prince nodded. ::It is part inbred quality, part need to survive. I can certainly relate.::

::There are down sides though. The price of my observation is that I cannot communicate it to just anyone. And I am denied the pleasure of listening to people's voices.::

Quatre smiled. ::You do not miss much, Trowa. All you would hear are people yelling to each other and lying to each other and otherwise making noise.::

Trowa shook his head. ::You mistook my meaning. I have never heard what your voice sounds like. But I know from how people act when you speak that you have a beautiful voice.::

A blush. ::Really?::

A nod. ::And I will never know what my voice sounds like. I have tried and tried to use it. But I feel no vibration in my neck, as Cathy tells me that you feel. It is a shame that I cannot hear.::

Prince Quatre shook his head. ::But you can hear in so many other ways, Trowa! Take me for an example. I talk to you more than I talk to anyone. Even Rashid and my sisters. They have noticed that I have become very quiet. It is not because I have less to say, but instead because I have learned to keep opinions to myself until I am certain of their validity. When I speak, it is not idle chatter of an uninformed mind, but rather the calculated speech of one who knows what he is talking about. I can 'hear' so much more because of you Trowa. You have truly taught me how to listen.::

Trowa smiled. ::And you have taught me much as well. I had lived a very small life before I met you. Even under prince Duo's care, people paid me very little attention. My sister was my only family. And there were time when she was very tired of the fight she took on for me. I do not hold it against her, but it would always hurt. This was how I learned to be invisible, and how I gathered information. But it was not enough. Never enough. Then I met you. Quatre, you changed my world. People look up to me. They respect me. Even I respect myself now. I may have given you abilities, but you gave me purpose.::

The desert prince smiled as tears filed his eyes. He was so touched! He had never known how indebted the forest prince had felt toward him. Quatre had never realized how much he had given Trowa. Nor had he realized until just then how close he felt to this silent boy who could speak such volumes.

::Is it not funny?:: he said finally. ::That I feel closer to you than I do even to my own family?::

A shrug. ::Perhaps. Perhaps not. We are alike, you and I. We both have talents. Gifts. And we wish to use them to benefit people. We are very kind in that sense. But we are hindered. I by my inability to communicate with most people. You by your tradition bound father. You will surpass your handicap in less than two years time. I have taught Catherine and I have taught you. And apparently I have given to you.::

::Trowa, you have given more than you could know! Don't you realize it? The entire castle looks up to you. You have single handedly-::

::Not single handedly. Catherine has gathered information too.::

::But you have done most of the work. You and Catherine have gotten the goods on almost every crooked politician in the entire kingdom. You have given me the means and some of the methods needed in order to run my kingdom properly. Trowa, you have changed this kingdom for the better, and everyone knows it.::

::Then, you are happy with me?::

Quatre smiled. ::Of course I am.::

::Then I am content.:: The forest prince looked out over the now night sky. The stars were beginning to twinkle, and the garden that Trowa loved was silhouetted in darkness. He looked again to the stars. ::I am ready,:: he signed to them.

Quatre joined him, admiring the desert night. ::Ready for what?::

::My destiny. I had always been afraid of it before, but now that I know it. I will face it.::

::And what is your destiny?::

::I will serve you. And I will protect you until my death.::

::Thank you. Trowa,:: the desert prince said.

Here we go again