Eulalie- A Song
by Nataku
((With the moon-tints of purple and pearl,))
I
The Valley of Unrest
Helpless. This solemn and venerable word seemed the only one to describe the squall of feelings and tattered memories within her. Every fragmented recollection- every cruel voice and harsh eye was remembered, and not. She swam through her own mind as though in foreign seas. Names and faces she could not quite place assaulted her nightly, telling her she was nothing, that she was weak and tearing into her flesh just to hear her desperate screams and pleas. Promising to hurt until she no longer cried out- until she no longer felt anything at all. No emotion, no pain, compassion or love. Groomed for blood, raised for the kill- she battled like a soulless doll, like a shell of the girl she never had the chance to be.
Her earliest, and clearest memories were of her father's death- though she had forgotten him completely. She could still see the look in her grandfather's eyes when he broke the news, she could hear her own anguished sobs- and she never cried again. After the tears, after the scolding for indulging in such a weakness, remembrance began to blur. She seemed those days to watch her own movements from somewhere outside of her body. She watched the world from behind dirty panes of glass, erected to shield her fragile heart from the wrong being cast onto sun-starved skin and a mind beyond the point of breaking.
Her father had died valiantly, blaze and glory- honor and blood. He died a soldier's death, as had so many faceless men before him. Then it was her turn to suffer the fate of such a man. They forced upon her fencing foils, made her defend her tender skin from the deep and unforgiving cuts they bestowed. They drown her in the histories of battles long ago, and strategies that never fail. They burned into her a lust quenched only by the blood of fearless and noble fighters. Never a kind word- never a move to soothe. They were demons, hidden from her mind's eye by shadows and lashings her flesh could never forget. Their faces remained a mystery even within her nightmares.
((I dwelt alone in a world of moan,))
It was his fault- her only family, her only enemy. He cast her to the wolves for the good of his position. He molded her into his own sick and blood-bathed toy. A puppet to control, a beautiful girl to send into the beds of his own insignificant enemies. A girl with seductive cold eyes and a sheathed power- a strength that crushed each bedfellow after the desired information was attained. He sacrificed his small helpless granddaughter to the life a monster, of his own personal assassin. And all the while she hid inside herself, waiting to wake from this nightmare which had become her pathetic reality in so many ways.
He had the kindness, the purity beaten out of her. All she knew now was the pleasure of the kill, thrill of the hunt- the ecstasy of war, he made sure of that long ago. And now- in his absence, that frightened small girl in the corners of her soul was too timid, too long locked away, too forgotten to re-inhabit her old shell. Her face was set in a strong and emotionless masque, her limbs trained too seek and destroy, her movements precise and never faltering. She was War- the embodiment of each soldier's last breath. The perfect killer, the ultimate in machines of death. She was a bleeding crying little girl- too afraid to break with the only life she had ever known- too bantam to break with her demon; her death.
~o00o~
Time takes to the wings of doves when one is in love. Minutes, hours, days- all dance by unnoticed by the free and alive. Time it seems is a mystery within itself, crawling like a wounded earthbound bird when hurt and sorrow play- twirling in unholy haste when one tries to savor the smallest of moments- and standing completely still when death claims another tortured soul. The world was always changing as the hands of the clock bent to kiss the ground, turning beautiful forests to barren waste lands, and lifeless deserts to lush fields of radiant flowers.
Time passed much in this manner since the beginning of it all, killing when so desiring, breathing new life across the old, always changing and dancing, singing its soft un-heard lullaby into the winds. The greatest mystery- greater even than death, is life.
She turned into the rain, the cold heavy drops stinging her big indigo eyes and penetrating her matted dirty fur, once the sweet color of honey. Her tiny legs ached as she pushed them forward, commanding her tired limbs step after step, though her destination seemed ages away in the bitter storm.
It was Christmas Eve. The tiny city was alive with lights and the soft sounds of carolers. Children laughed and played excitedly, shielded by brightly colored umbrellas and the protective arms of their parents as they strolled along the wet winter struck sidewalks on their way to family gatherings and Christmas mass. Vast decorated evergreens adorned every corner and window of the small city. Everyone seemed so carefree, so wondrously alive.
When she came upon the snow dappled park, so cozy and welcoming, she felt as though her legs might give up and drop her- refusing to carry her another step. Limping, cold and hungry she pulled herself down the narrow cobble stone path and into the shelter of an old sakura tree. Her quiet whimpering- still such an unfamiliar sound to her own ears, filled the air around her and disappeared into the shrieking wind. Curling into a tiny ball as close to the majestic sakura's trunk as possible she closed those big blue eyes, frightened and alone, yet hopeful, and strangely comforted by the song of the raging December storm.
She drifted through dreamless and uneasy sleep- afraid to lower her guard enough to truly rest. Every noise, every stray footstep startled her into a defensive stance. Though in present form, intimidating is the last word one might use to describe her. She waited- hidden in the shadows of the old tree, awaiting the dawn at the end of this tempest. Time passed slowly for her now- agonizingly so. She watched the lights of the city fade as the lateness of the night was realized and children were tucked into warm soft beds and bid a loving good night. She settled into this quiet darkness with nothing but hope to keep her from surrendering to the cold like wounded prey.
As the first hints of morning crept across the skies she felt a sudden nervousness- the butterflies in her stomach seemed intent of flying through her entire body. She could not help but fear he may not recognize her, could she blame him? This had not been what she had in mind either.
She was torn from the silent battle of her doubts as a familiar voice broke the stillness of the morning air.
I- I love it. I love you, Heero.
With her limbs slightly rested, and strength somewhat renewed, she pulled her tiny body into a low branch of the sakura- staining her eyes to find the owner of that rich voice. A tiny smile played on her thin lips as she found what she had been seeking, tangled in a passionate kiss with the man of his dreams.
This is it, she told herself. it's now or never. With renewed courage, she made her way cautiously down the trunk of the sakura and through the cold snow, stopping mere feet away from perhaps the most important event of this new life.
~o00o~
Love had to be the most addictive and wonderful drug Duo decided as he broke the kiss his entire being ached to dive into once more. He wrapped his arms around Heero, burying his face against the hollow of his neck as whispering I love you, over and over into his warm skin. He never wanted to let go- he could have stayed there forever, ignoring the cold, nearly forgetting to breath as he lost himself in this embrace, willing time to stand still only for them.
He closed his eyes tightly, blocking out the world, reveling in the warmth of Heero's body so close to his own- content to simply feel those strong arms around him, keeping him safe. He never wanted to move again if it meant he would have to leave the comfort and love of this embrace.
It was not until tiny needle sharp teeth nipped and pulled at the leg of his pants that Duo reluctantly opened his eyes, greeted by the sight of a tiny kitten, impatiently tugging at him. Big indigo eyes pleaded without words. He untangled himself from Heero and knelt in the snow beside the mussed kitty.
Hey there, he said in a soft gentle tone as he reached to run a hand over the dirty fur of the desolate creature. As the kitten leaned to encourage the pampering he scooped it up into his arms, sharing the warmth of his coat with the small shivering cat.
He jumped to his feet, dropping the kitten back into the frigid snow. Heero looked at him with a concerned and somewhat puzzled expression, the cat looked insulted, and Duo- he looked as though he had seen a ghost.
Did you. . . he glanced from the peeved kitten to Heero and back to the cat, utter confusion playing across his violet eyes.
He can't hear me, said the little voice again- a strangely familiar voice. Duo, it's me-
Relena? his mind asked silently. Catching the look on Heero's face he was immensely glad he had not spoken aloud. If he was thinking himself crazy, who knew what Heero would think. He forced a smile, trying to regain at least some of his illusive composure.
Never mind, he said with a small uneasy laugh. I'm fine, just. . . he racked his brain for an excuse that might pry those puzzled eyes off him for a moment so he might try and think rationally about what had just happened. . . .bit me. Um, the cat bit me. Trying to sound convincing and avoid the glare from the small honey-blond kitten, he smiled again, hoping Heero would not inquire further into the matter.
he said after a short uncomfortable silence. are you all right?
said Duo, a little too quickly. Fighting off another awkward silence he added; it looks hungry, and it's freezin' out here, do you think we could bring 'er home with us? he wore his best puppy-dog eyes and hoped Heero was not allergic to cats. After a fleeting moment of doubt, Heero nodded.
Anything you want, he said, picking the kitten up in one hand and intertwining the other with Duo's. lets go home.
~o00o~
The short distance between Maxwell Park and their current safe house seemed to triple in length as Duo commanded his feet forward, clutching Heero's hand and casting side long glances at the small yellow kitty. Thousands of fragmented thoughts whirled about in his mind. Although having mentally prepared himself for the chance that Relena might come back he never expected it to come so soon, and like this. Stealing another quick look, Duo sighed inwardly and decided it best to at least try and relax. He would need more than patience to deal with all of this.
As soon as he found himself back within the secure hold of the small house, and Heero had disappeared into the kitchen, Duo knelt, leveling his eyes with that of the Relena cat.
she offered timidly as words failed him miserably.
It's really you in there? he asked, not completely trusting his own senses. How- why. . . he closed his eyes, trying to gather what he could of his bouncing thoughts. You're a cat, he then said plainly, gesturing towards her big ears and swaying tail.
Well, that's stating the obvious, said the kitten sarcastically.
he partially covered his right eye and forehead with his hand. you're a cat, he said again, this time in a confused whisper.
said Relena, feeling more than slightly frustrated. Duo, this isn't what I was expecting either- but you take what you can get, ne?
Duo made a quiet groaning sound and covered his other eye. This is too weird, he said, more to himself than to the tiny cat. Can we start over? he asked, rubbing at his temples.
If that'll make it easier, said Relena thoughtfully.
Duo opened his eyes, making sure he and the cat were still alone in the room. let's start with what I should call you, Heero's gonna think I've lost it if I walk around talking to you like you're Relena- not that you aren't but, well- you know.
What do you suggest? she asked, somewhat uneasy.
You need a new name, got anything in mind?
She sat back on her hind legs, seeming to contemplate the matter. Shrugging, or what could be called shrugging for a cat, she looked down, obviously clueless as to what an appropriate name for a dead princess in a kitten's body might be.
What about. . . Duo glanced around the room, hoping something might jump out at him and present itself as the perfect name for the small kitten. Catching sight of Quatre's open sketch book on the coffee table he lifted the kitty into his hands. I've got it, he proclaimed happily.
He set her down on the table beside the sketch Quatre had been working on before he had been called away on a mission. On the page, a young girl sat on a carved swing suspended from an old majestic tree, her long wavy hair was caught in a playful breeze and the tree's sinuous branches cast delicate shadows across her somber features. Partially hidden by the wind tousled blossoms, a bantam winged creature with crimson hair and skin of the truest ivory with the slightest touch of jade watched the girl, seeming to silently offer her a comfort and translucent hope.
Quatre said Mab was the queen of the fairies, that's her there behind the plum blossoms, he said, tracing over the delicately sketched fairy with his fingertips. she was said to have looked over maidens, ruled her kingdom with grace and compassion, and cast beautiful dreams when lovers slumber.
Relena looked up at him with wide smiling eyes.
Who are you talking to?
Duo jumped slightly as Heero's voice reached his ears. Turning to face him he smiled an embarrassed sort of smile. Relena mewed softly and leapt off the low table as Heero lied a bowl of cream on the floor beside where Duo sat, leaning against the arm of a soft rose-colored chair.
I was just trying to pick a name for the kitten, he said sheepishly.
Did you find one? Heero asked as he sat himself in the chair against which Duo was leaning, pausing momentarily to run his fingers through Duo's bangs and plant a soft kiss on his forehead.
Yeah, I think I did, he tilted his head back so he could see Heero's brilliant blue eyes. I'm going to call her Mab.
~o00o~
Curiosity it seems, it the cat's trait. She saw with new eyes, eyes that missed nothing- no movement, no shadow went undetected. In the back of her mind was what seemed to be limitless reserves of energy, but trying simply to stifle an urge to run in vast circles for hours on end made her want to nap in the sun cast by opened windows. Unfortunately the bounce in her step was not as fathomless as it sometimes felt. Nearly a fortnight had passed since she woke on the cold streets of some cold nameless city. Nearly two weeks since she had found herself hungry, alone, and wearing the skins of a small fury kitten. But curiosity it seems, was not the least of her problems.
Hope. When night's frigid lips and the predators eyes bore into her there was always hope. And in the end, faith had rewarded her miraculously. She slumbered now, nestled within the warm embrace of he whom she had been searching for. She slept content, curled against the only friend she had ever known. The only person who knew her completely. Her kindred spirit. Hope now, was within her, perfect.
Maxwell, what in the name of Nataku is that?
Duo cocked his head slightly, greeted by the sight of a slightly baffled Wufei, and his outstretched finger. Though it took his euphorically diluted mind several seconds, Duo realized jusice-boy's accusing finger was pointed straight at the dreaming kitten on his lap. said Duo in a slow sort of caught red handed' voice reserved for children spotted with tiny hands in forbidden cookie jars. Merry Christmas? he offered quietly with a hopeful smile, and light kind of anxiety mirrored in his pleading violet eyes.
And how may I ask is the God of Death going to look after a kitten? You can't exactly bring it with you in your Gundam. Wufei crossed his arms over his chest, still staring quizzically at the tiny puff of golden fur. I guarantee you this cat is a bigger responsibility than you think.
I can handle it, Fei. Duo assured him with one of those intoxicating smiles he saved for when he found himself playing the part of the cornered doe. Trust me.
After the arching of a sleek black eyebrow, and a mumbled sort of speech on justice and responsibility, Wufei turned gracefully and with light steps entered the kitchen. He realized coffee was quickly becoming his drug of choice and caffeine was exactly what he needed at this point in time. Shaking his head, he found himself almost plowing directly into Heero who carried two mugs of steaming hot cocoa.
he said quickly, mentally kicking himself for not watching where he had been going. Maxwell and his pets,' his inner voice sighed. they will surly be the death of me.'
~o00o~
Why do you not leave me?
I promised you my everything. My word is my bond, I will not abandon you- not like this. Not ever.
Is that the thing called love?
Dorothy did not turn her eyes from the glossy snow kissed pane of the long gothic window. Nail-blue eyes traced over the reflection caught in the thin glass like an old photograph. Secret lips, forgotten skin, and unfamiliar eyes, stared back at her as though worlds apart. When had she become a stranger to her very self?
((And my soul was a stagnant tide,))
You should rest, I'll be in the garden if you need me.
I always need you, koneko. Bast's ruby eyes were lidded, hidden from all the world. Hiding from their own humanity.
I'll come back in a few hours. With that said, and without awaiting a reply, Dorothy slid quietly from the vast sun dappled room and turned hesitantly towards the beautiful gardens of a place she longed to call home. But *home* was as foreign to her as those placid lifeless eyes starring back at her through every mirror.
Lacking the usual weight of her thick winter cloak, Dorothy stepped passed the threshold and into the snow covered folds of the magnificent garden. Even beneath the snow, beauty twirled and sang through every frosted bloom and chilled vine. This beauty seemed almost tangible- so pure and resounding in even the air. Had Dorothy the perfect christmas gift it would have undoubtedly been this dancing herbal beauty.
Is that the thing called love? she asked the falling snow. Is a monster like me capable of loving even another monster?
~o00o~
She could not take it any longer. Succumbing to this new kitty-cat weakness, surrendering herself to the most potent on inner demons, Relena gave into this curiosity. She found herself startling the sudden urge to explore, after all, if this was to be her home she should at least know her way around.
Waiting until Duo had risen to accept a mug of hot cocoa from Heero, Relena leapt silently off the couch and padded with her newly attained kitten stealth from the living room and into the tiny kitchen. The kitchen, small, drab, and utterly disappointing did not hold her interests long and so, she found herself pussy-footing through a wide sparsely decorated hall and up lush carpeted stairs.
Though plain, and somewhat small, the house radiated a certain sense of comfort and warmth. Long windows lined each wall, filling this tiny home with a light so pure and true. Oh, how she had missed the sun.
Reaching the top of the stairs, she noticed the closest door stood partially open, and to a cat, and open door is as good as an invitation. Stepping lightly- cautiously, she peered into the bright room. There was a large bed, fashioned in crimson and ivory with an elegant frame of mahogany beside which leaned a slightly tattered violin case. She noted the open laptop and scattered pile of half finished sketches on the desk, and finally settled her sights on the tall lean boy sitting motionless upon the cushioned window seat.
Had it not been for the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest and the quiet sounds made by every breath one might have thought him dead. His body tense, and no movements made, Trowa simply stared past the misted window's pane. He watched the snow and the sun with glossy disinterested eyes- merely waiting. Just waiting.
With an exuberant mew and quick swish of her tail, Relena pounced from the chilly floor and into the lap of the somber pilot. Though a slight confusion played in his eyes, Trowa made no conscious startled reaction.
Where did you come from? he asked her softly as he reached to scratch beneath her chin- an action which earned him an immediate purr. His touch was strong, yet soothing and gentle. Years of battle had yet to chase the comfort from his warm finger tips. With a quiet sigh, he turned back to his vigil- still absently stroking the small cat.
What are you looking for? she asked, forgetting he could not hear her. She tried in vain to follow the direction of his glance but continually came up empty handed. She perceived him to be waiting, though for what, she did not know.
He promised he would be back for christmas, Trowa whispered as though speaking to himself. He never breaks a promise. His eyes wore veils of sorrow, lifted only by the faint glimmer of hope in the depths of his nebulous emerald orbs. Within the quickened pitter patter of her tiny heart Relena at once recognized the longing and loneliness of eyes like that. She wanted to comfort him, assure him that this promise would not be broken. In her current state she could do little more than offer a rosy purr and nuzzle softly against his unmoving skin.
She found herself unable to contain her own excitement as a golden haired youth emerged from an old yellow taxi mere feet from the small house. Pausing only to catch the look of sheer joy and love in Trowa's dark eyes, she bounded towards the door with the usually stoic pilot only a step behind. After nearly tripping over her own small feet and slipping twice on the sleek wooden floors Relena was mewing frantically at the dead wood of the front door. Scratching nosily at the splintered frame she urged Trowa outside with silent eyes. Trowa did not have to be nudged twice.
Before Quatre could even reach for the knob, he found the door flying open and himself moments later- lying flat in the snow with an all too familiar weight on top of him.
I missed you too, Trowa. He managed few words between kisses, but words were not really that important.
Relena sat several inches behind the threshold, wearing what could be identified as an exceedingly pleased smile. She had somehow always found her greatest happiness within that of others. She supposed giving was more enjoyable than receiving after all. Watching Trowa- Mr. Silence himself smother his koi in kisses and speak rather senselessly about how much he had missed him made her feel more than warm inside. She felt happy- for the second time this day she felt such powerful emotions in a way so many took for granted.
There you are!
She turned apologetic eyes to Duo where he stood several feet behind her. His arms were crossed in somewhat of a playful yet honest sort of scolding. She felt a lecture about wandering off and scaring him half to death coming on, but none did. He scooped her up in his arms and turned back towards the living room.
I think we should give them some privacy, he said, gesturing half-heartedly to the lovers in the snow. Sides, we've got to get you cleaned up. no offense ojosan, but you're a mess.
None taken, she said rolling her big eyes, still cradled in his arms.
You can't exactly take a shower, he continued. what do I do, run a bath and just plop you in? gagging her reaction, he though perhaps that had not been what she had in mind. The sink? he asked sheepishly, worried she might scratch him at another naive question.
I suppose that'll work, she said, not able to hide a slight anxiety. to tell the truth, I haven't really thought about it.
~o00o~
After a not so successful cat bath in which Relena discovered how little she really liked water, and Duo found out just how lethal those claws were, they had settled before the fire, Relena to dry- and Duo to tend his own little wounds. Heero was sprawled out on the couch, flipping through his present from Duo, a complete book of Poe's works, set in parchment and a gold engraved crimson cover. Quite a handsome novel if he did say so himself.
Both Relena and Duo had opted for silence while Heero lie simply an arms reach away. But the quiet was comfortable, not awkward as most silences were. There was a certain feeling of warmth, and home in the air of the tiny house. For the first time in his life, Duo truly felt at home. With Relena, Heero and the other pilots, home was not such a foreign thing.
((Till the fair and gentle Eulalie became my blushing bride-))
He had never imagined home this way- sitting by the fire side with a cat who happened to be the queen of the world, while the love of his life read silently on a near by couch- his closest friends in an all too small kitchen, struggling to prepare a traditional christmas dinner, though for the multicultural group, that meant oh so many things. But there he was, with a reincarnated princess and his silent koi- feeling safe, secure, and happy beyond compare within the walls of his very own home.
~o00o~
The sun had set, and the moon risen valiantly before Dorothy retreated from her snowy heaven- her rose scented sanctuary. With the moon tints playing on her skin and twirling within the strands of her pale golden hair, with the cold winter's kiss on her frigid lips, Dorothy, though ignorant of the cold and hurt, returned to the warmth of her lover's bedside. She would rather have taken on the Perfect Soldier, and his companion, Death, blindfolded than face those scarlet eyes tonight. A thing called love? Love did not exist- not for a girl like her. Dorothy Catalonia was not capable of such emotions. There was the kill, the dance of predator and prey. There was the blood, and the soldiers. The thing called love was not welcomed within her hollow heart.
Every step, every glance towards the thick intimidating door of Bast's chamber was one Dorothy wished had been in some other direction. Though fear was irrational, and hesitation unexceptable, she found she was unwilling and yes, afraid to cross the threshold. What had Bast been to her? If not merely a passage to war and welcomed bedfellow- what had this ruby-eyed creature been? Was it in fact, the thing called love?