A/N: Hi all! Thanks for stopping by and taking a look at my little old story here. It's been like 3 years since I wrote something creatively and even longer since I last watched a Gundam Wing episode, so forgive me if things are somewhat OOC. Character relations and organizations will be slightly different from the original series and Frozen Teardrop characters/motivations will not exist here (for the most part). Also, the setting is somewhat medieval/pre-modern times with a bit of a fantastical twist if that makes sense. Not like spirits and magic, but the mobile suits will definitely be incorporated somehow, ableit on a smaller scale. Anyways, hope you enjoy!


Prologue

Fire.

There was so much fire everywhere.

Tall, ferocious flames lapped eagerly at the once majestic Sanc Palace. The castle groaned and buckled as it succumbed to the blazing inferno, falling in great heavy crashes upon its foundation. Screams were heard all around as people raced to escape the burning building. Those who were able to make it out of the doomed structure found their luck run short once outside. An army stood waiting at the palace's perimeter, weapons drawn and ready to slaughter any and all survivors. Blood and soot mixed together and painted the once pristine grounds with scenes of horror and death.

Senator Darlian stood from a distance watching helplessly as his fellow countrymen were murdered and burned alive. He clenched his fists so tightly blood began seeping from his palm where fingernails dug into the skin. How could Oz be so heartless? Men, women, children, old, young, sick, healthy – it didn't matter who – so long as they were associated with the castle they were butchered without a second thought. Most of them were just servants! Innocent civilians!

He grit his teeth and sank to his knees. He could not drown out the screams that did not seem to end. A cold, sick feeling gripped at his heart. This was it. The fall of the Sanc Kingdom, whose only crimes were that they dared to seek peace. They refused to bend to the Romefeller Kingdom's whims, and so now this was to be their fate.

Nearly a century of peace and prosperity gone, just like that.

The young senator's body shook with sobs as the grief overcame him. Grief for the innocents slaughtered tonight. Grief for the kingdom brutalized tonight. Grief for the greed that consumed the hearts of men and caused them to commit such atrocities.

A lone figure appeared over the horizon, marching wearily towards Darlian.

The senator stood with a fright. Who was that? A soldier from Oz? Were they coming for him too?

He drew his sword, ready to defend what little he had left, "Stop! Who goes there?!"

The figure continued to trudge wearily towards him and Darlian's grip tightened. He grew closer and closer until the moonlight was able to illuminate the stranger's features. Darlian's hand slackened and the weapon fell to the ground with a heavy thud. His eyes widened in recognition.

"P-Pagan!"

The individual finally stopped and smiled, dropping to his knees as if overcome by a great relief. In his arms, he carried a bundle of some sort.

"It's good to see you, Darlian…"

Pagan was the head butler to the royal family. His family had served the Peacecrafts since the Sanc Kingdom's inception. Darlian rushed over and assessed the elderly man's condition. He was badly burned over almost all parts of his body. His clothes were stained darkly with blood and soot. Despite all that, Pagan did not show any visible signs of pain and smiled softly at the man.

"How did you escape the castle?" Darlian frantically began ripping strips of cloth from his coat in a feeble attempt to stifle the bleeding, "Where is the royal family? Are they safe? Have they been captured?"

The butler's smile fell. He weakly raised an arm to stop the senator's medical efforts.

"Please," Darlian insisted, "Let me bandage you! I can carry you to the house where Mareen can-"

"It's no use," the old butler whispered, "I will die soon anyways. The royal family have all been killed… The king, the queen, Prince Milliardo… All relatives to the crown also, rounded up and burned alive…"

Darlian froze. No…

It couldn't be…

He had foolishly hoped against hope that Romefeller would have at least taken them prisoner for better political leverage… Prince Milliardo was just a child! They at least could have spared him and raised him to be a figurehead or…

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a small cry. It was then that he finally noticed the bundle of blankets in Pagan's arms.

"All were killed," Pagan said, "Except for the princess."

Darlian could scarcely believe his ears, "Is that her…?"

Pagan smiled and tenderly handed the bundle over to the shocked man, who though dumbfounded took extra care not to drop her. There, visible through the top of the blanket, was a little infant with rosy cheeks and a tuft of honey colored hair. Bright, nile blue eyes gaze curiously back up at him.

"May I present to you, Senator Darlian," Pagan announced with all the learned grace from years of practice, "Her highness Princess Relena Peacecraft, sole survivor and heir to the throne."

It took Darlian a few moments to overcome his disbelief, "I thought you said the all the family were dead?"

"All but her. I found the princess stashed away in the nursery. It seems Oz mistook the wet nurse's baby for the princess and murdered the wrong child. Luckily the wet nurse was able to hide her away before the poor woman too was killed…"

Darlian could not help but stare at the baby, who yawned and squirmed uncomfortably. The pale, ivory skin… the blonde hair… the bright, blue eyes… yes these were all hallmarks of Peacecraft traits, but it wasn't as if there weren't others with these features.

"How do you know she is the princess, then? What if the wet nurse was trying to save her own child?"

"I delivered the Peacecraft children myself," Pagan's tone was firm, "She is truly the princess."

"I…" the tumult of emotions rendered Darlian speechless. He didn't know whether to leap for joy or collapse with distress. Through some benevolent stroke of fate, the princess was spared, but she was far from safe. What were they going to do with her now? If the Romefeller Kingdom ever found out, she would be cut down without a second thought.

"You are the only remaining person who the crown can trust, Darlian," Pagan whispered weakly, "Please, you must protect her. Oz will not look for her because she is believed to be dead."

"M-Me? Care for her? How?"

"Raise her as your own. I want to pass knowing that she will be safe and cared for, and that the Peacecraft blood line will live on. They have given too much for this country to be extinguished just like that."

Darlian bit his lip. His mind had a hard time processing the weight of the burden suddenly befell upon his shoulders. He was holding the crown princess in his arms. The last living hope for the Sanc Kingdom.

But he was a senator. Handling political burdens was a duty he had sworn to undertake for the greater good of the country.

"Should I tell her of her lineage when she is older?"

Pagan paused. Relena did deserve to know her birthright… If she grew up not knowing her true origins then the Peacecraft name would fade into obscurity. But, if she sought to reclaim the throne, she would surely be killed.

After a heavy silence, the butler spoke, "I leave that to your discretion, senator. I trust you will know the future better than I." He winced as he felt the wounds from his burns slowly overcome his consciousness. He knew he couldn't ignore the pain for much longer.

"Pagan?" Darlian's eyes widened, "No! You can't mean you'll die here, please let me take you back to the house! We'll send for a doctor and-"

"No," he was taken aback by the firmness in his voice, "Nobody can know I saw you today. You must leave me. I will go into the woods and throw myself into the river so that my body will be found away from here and save you from suspicion."

Still sensing the senator's distress, Pagan offered him a gentle smile, "I am an old man, Senator Darlian. I have had a good life. Do not worry for me. I will not pass in vain, so long as the princess is safe."

Darlian felt a heavy lump in his throat, but he remorsefully acknowledged that the butler was right. This had to be done.

"I understand," he held the child closer to his chest, "I will keep her safe and raise her true to the Peacecraft ideals."

"Nobody can know her identity, not even Lady Mareen. Only you."

"You have my word."

At this, Pagan finally let the last few ounces of anxiousness leave his consciousness. With great effort, he rose and gave as best a bow as his wounded body could muster. Darlian returned the courtesy, and with a heavy heart he watched as the old man stumbled into the forest. A few moments later, he heard a tell-tale splash.

And so it was done.

Darlian turned his back to the burning kingdom and made his way back to his house. The baby in his arms squirmed again and let out another small cry.

"Shh," he said, delicately stroking her tiny cheek, "You're safe now…"

The baby giggled and grabbed at his finger. She was so tiny, so vulnerable.

"And you'll be safe for as long as I live," he whispered, "Relena Darlian…"