Heero glared. He stood for several more moments that way, glaring at the indifferent iron gates. That is until his usually placid horse tried to throw him, letting the glaring boy know in no uncertain terms that *it* was tired of standing in the mud and chilly wind thank you very much. Heero then exchanged glares with his horse. The boy lost. "Ahem." The slim boy decided to switch tactics and tried glaring at something which a) was human b) actually *cared* that he was glaring and most importantly c) was cowed by his all powerful glare. The servant standing patiently behind the closed gates cowered in a most satisfactory manner. "Hn." Satisfied at the small, very small, victory, he motioned for the the man to open the gates. "I've come to visit Lord Quatre, your master." He showed his card, and the gates were opened with a teeth grinding creak. His horse snorted impatiently, obviously not impressed with the human's rather slow progress, and applied its strength to the gates, slamming open the iron bars and leaving the servant gaping at the horse. The horse, of course, took no notice of the silly human and carefully picked its way to the stables, where it was warm and most importantly where there was food. Heero gave one last if he wasn't Heero Yuy he would have an almost wistful glance TM look outside the gates, before stepping within the enclosure. The gates then slammed close with a disconsolate clang, also catching the edge of his plain coat in the process. With an almost, if he wasn't Heero Yuy he would have an almost pained look TM look on his face, he ripped the coat free, ignoring the servant's frightened apologies and babbling. The dark haired boy glared him into silence, even that one gesture failing to appease his irritability. He hated it here already. ~~~~~ Heero was quietly led within the massive castle. The servant girl quietly informed him that both Lord Quatre and his friend Mr. Barton were away at the moment. He waved the obviously nervous servant girl away, after checking to see which wing of the structure his luggage would be stored in. Heero knew which way to go in the castle, God above only knew how many times he had traversed these same winding stairs and seemingly endless foray of halls in his dreams. The object of his quest stood before him. A portrait, a thrice bedamned, if exquisitely painted portrait. He gritted his teeth and glared at the life-sized oil. "Well?" He asked the painted youth rather inanely, as if expecting the lips quirked in a private joke to part and speak for him. "I'm here. Happy?" The richly hued violet eyes seemed to sparkle in amusement at Heero's annoyed tone. "Why did you call me for?" The inanimate figure's every detail seemed to mock him, from the arrogantly tilted, slightly pointed chin to the graceful, confident pose captured forever in oils. He read the brass engraved name beneath the portrait, "Duo Maxwell, most beloved and only son to Edwin Maxwell." The blue eyed youth mouthed the name quietly to himself. Duo Maxwell. Finally, a name to the specter that had been haunting his dreams. His lips quirked. By the old tales, having an enemy's name gave one power over that being. If he believed in such tales, which he didn't of course. But he tucked the name to the back of his mind for future reference. Then he went back to the more relaxing mode of staring... err glaring rather.