AU where Treize never resigned. Now Zechs a traitor to OZ and is captive. Treize is faced with a difficult decision, to let Zechs go and damn the concequences or face something truly dreadful. [Cha...
Treize regarded himself as a brutal, ruthless man who like the opera. That was yesterday. Today the man who he had stolen a kiss from five years previous was staring at him through red rimmed, broken eyes.
With a flick of his hand he dismissed the soldiers who smirked disgustingly above the bent back of Milliardo Peacecraft. They probably thought themselves worthy of some prize and promotion, they had after all captured the most famous traitor of OZ, Zechs Marquise. Treize would probably have to do something for them, Romefeller would have it no other way.
Already he could sense them pawing for the death of this man. In the corner Lady Une looked away as Treize knelt down, running a slow and steady hand through his former lover's barbarously hacked off hair. It ended abruptly at the nape of his neck and already Treize missed how it caressed his back and whole body like a lover.
Slowing breathing out he smiled softly and placed a small kiss next to Milliardo's mouth, just where once he had wiped away some foul spinach sauce from the army rations some three years ago.
"What am I to do with you, Milliardo?" His voice devoured the name, one he had forbidden to speak of for all the years he had known this boy for. Ever since Milliardo had been but a child of six, mourning for parents cruelly murdered and aching for revenge, till the time he was a burningly bright cadet with the ever loyal Noin dogging his footsteps and when he was the brilliant OZ warrior.
Twisting his bruised face into a smirk, Milliardo closed his eyes and whispered through cracked lips, "There is no other alternative, for you, General. You have to do what you must."
Standing up in horror, Treize realized what must be done and tried to forgot what this man had done to him, both good and bad.
"That is what you want then?" He asked carelessly, a hit of helplessness entering his voice. He bit his lip, a habit from his distant boyhood and waited as Zechs tried to answer.
Une poured a glass of wine, red, how Trieze preferred it. Milliardo swallowed it graciously even through he would have desired the drier white.
"Treize," he said the name for the last time, "To you intend to set me free? To let me escape? No," he murmured almost mockingly, "That is sheer folly, you have no choice. Your men have captured me, I turned against OZ mere months ago, after years of service but when I killed those soldiers, my days were done for in this stagnant place. If you want what you have ached for years, you'll put me in front of a firing squad."
With his eyes boring into Treize, Zechs smiled nearly kindly.
The next day, another name was added to Treize's list.