The Dream I Dreamed
By the Almighty SporkGoddess
"Love, it seems like only yesterday you were just a child at play. Now you're all grown up inside of me. Oh, how fast these moments flee."
Glittering women and their stylish husbands glided smoothly around the elaborately decorated ballroom. The summer night was young, with just a few stars making their way into view, and the head of the Neo England Country Club decided that the gala they had decided to throw was set on the perfect date.
"Oh, Theodore, have you been taking lessons?" Estelle was waltzing with her husband. Her dainty hand rested on his larger, gloved one, and their bodies moved in perfect harmony to the music.
The handsome Neo English ambassador smiled at his young wife. "I must confess, a mate of mine gave me some pointers."
She laughed. "Well, I must say that they indeed paid off."
They danced in silence for just a bit, then Estelle saw something that caught her interest. She coughed, and brought up a question.
"Dearest… who is that?" She gestured to a table in a corner.
"You mean you don't know?" He looked shocked.
"Am I supposed to?" She inquired, sneaking another look despite her social etiquette.
"That is the widowed Manon Chapman." Theodore whispered rather impatiently, as if anyone should know that.
"Gentle Chapman's wife?" Estelle gasped, her blue eyes widening in surprise.
"The one and only."
"She looks so sad…"
"Can you blame her? Her husband, thought to be dead, turned out to be alive and a traitor to our country. It's amazing she had the gall to show up tonight."
All around the stately room, basically the same conversation was occurring. Some admired her for showing up at all, others scoffed, and many of the women shook their heads at her choice of a spouse.
The subject of their gossip, however, remained oblivious to all of this. She merely sat there, quiet and refined, sipping a small glass of Chardonnay. Well past youth, past the age where you feel the frivolous need to show off, she was dressed in a simple dark blue gown. Brown hair, which ironically showed no sign of gray ("Dye job," One of the elder society women muttered to her nodding friend") was pulled back into a chignon. A few strands had escaped, but she paid them no heed, and the silky threads merely flirted with the soft effect of her small earrings.
Slender fingers gently rested on the linen tablecloth, refusing to give into any hidden urge to fidget. Her bright, yet tired eyes, were looking right at the crowd – yet she saw none of them. She only saw one person… the person, who, if god was loving, would be sitting next to her right now.
Darling…I don't understand. Why did you lie to me? Why didn't you tell me you were still alive? And why did you do those horrid things?
Her mind raced with questions such as these; cleverly disguised by the serene and dignified look that sheltered these tormented thoughts.
I'm not angry. I'm just confused… How could you do this to me? Had you just died, I would have been alright. But yet again, you refused to succumb to physical restraints. Not even death stopped you. But it wasn't honorable…
A nasty voice inside her head reminded her that she was the last person who should talk about honor. The incident with that Neo Japanese pair still burned fresh in her mind.
I hope that young woman heeded my warning. I don't want her to share my fate. I made mistakes, and I suppose this is my repercussion…
I only did it because I love him…
Neo England had always put honor before everything else. Her husband had, too. Manon often felt that she was the only one who put love first.
She knew that he loved her, but she also knew that she'd always be second to something else.
That something else was something that all men from every nation, wanted. The Gundam Fight was like a seductive woman. So many females had lost their loves to that femme fatale-- the beautiful yet deadly woman that had the power to make men do anything to win her.
Manon had known all along that Chapman put the tournament before her. She had hid her hurt and made a firm resolution not to let that stand between them. And instead, she had decided to help him attain his goal. She just wanted to make him happy. Refusing to be caught in this love triangle, she had given the victory to the other side.
And so, Manon was the wife, and the Fight her husband's mistress. She often had to sleep alone at night because he would be out training. She often wondered if the wife of every fighter had to put up with this, or if she was the only one. Because, she sure felt like the only one. The very idea that a woman could be isolated from her own husband was absurd to quixotic thinkers, the very type of people who regulated the Fight but had never participated in it. The women whose husbands loved them, and them alone.
The exact same type of women whom were here tonight, dancing with said husbands.
She hadn't come here tonight just to drink wine and be talked about. She had come to observe these people, to wonder what her life could have been like had it not been for that bloody Gundam Fight.
As a child, she had dreamed about falling in love with the perfect man. And then she had found that perfect man.
Had she have known things would turn out like this, would she have still have wanted to be with him? Would she have agreed to be even then to being second best, in his eyes?
Deep down inside, she knew the answer.
********
"Hopeless, as my dream dies, as the time flies. Love a lost illusion. Helpless, unforgiven, cold and driven to this sad conclusion."
Author's Note: Poor Manon…
Disclaimer: I own not G Gundam, the song lyrics in the beginning in the end, or even the title. The title is from Les Miserables, and property of Alain Boubil and Claude Schonberg.