This is my very first fanfic EVER. Because of that I do not want you to be gentle in your reviews. I want the complete brutal truth. All comments, criticism, and praise will be greatly appreciated and used to improve my writing.

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is not mine. Any characters you recognize are not mine. Keiichi, however, is mine, although I haven't decided if I want him yet.

Spoilers: Some references to Episode Zero and Blind Target in addition to all episodes of the television series and the OAV/movie.

Summary: A tale of life, love in all its forms, and the spirits that influence human destiny.

Pairings: Rx1, 2xH, 4x3, C+4, Cx5, 9x6, anything else I decide to throw in there.

Thanks: Iris Anthe, my wonderful beta and an extremely talented writer; and all the wonderful people of the Heero and Relena Mailing List, for encouraging me to write this

Numina

by

Smarty Cat

smartycat9383@yahoo.com

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Prologue -- Questions in the Moonlight

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~The important thing is this: To be able at any moment to sacrifice what we are for what we could become.--Charles du Bois~

~Look not mournfully into the past, it comes not back again. Wisely improve the present, it is thine. Go forth to meet the shadowy future without fear and with a [wo]manly heart.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow ~

A.C. 198

It was a beautiful night in the former Sank kingdom. The glittering arch of the Milky Way stretched across the dark velvet sky near a triumphantly brilliant Orion. A luminous full moon bathed all it touched, turning the serene sea into a never-ending expanse of molten silver. The sweet smell of flowers and the refreshing salt tang of the sea combined to make a heady brew that sent blood singing through restless veins. In short, it was the kind of glorious star-filled summer night where magic reigned free that just begged for a barefoot run in a rose garden. The golden-haired girl hunched over a mahogany desk had quite an expansive garden and was even wearing an appropriately romantic white silk nightgown.

But there would be no wild moonlit run for Relena Peacecraft Darlian tonight. There was too much paperwork left to do. Too many press release forms that required suitably heartwarming stories. Too many treaties and declarations that required the young politician's aid. Documents that must be read thoroughly because her staff had never taken the time to preview them or help her with tough decisions.

After all, she was the former Queen Relena and the current Vice-Foreign Minister. They could not hope to match her brilliance and diplomatic skills. What use could experienced political advisors and analyzers be to someone of her fame and stature? She had risen to power without their help. She was perfectly capable of staying in power without their help. Everyday she made life-changing decisions that affected both the earth and the colonies. She was brilliant, a genius and a prodigy. She was also eighteen years old.

This was what her life had become. Days were spent talking politics with superior old men. Nights were an endless mountain of paper that had not been finished during the day. Brief naps en route to the next meeting were her sole source of sleep. She was constantly surrounded by people: politicians, aides, bodyguards, and the press, yet her only companions were Peygan, a small brown teddy bear, and dreams that faded a little more each day.

Relena sighed, shifting her longing gaze to the French doors once again. It was not that she did not like her job. She loved helping people resolve their differences, but lately she had been getting less personal interaction with the people she was meant to help. Anyone could sign a paper opening a shelter for the homeless, but Relena wanted to talk to the men on park benches, sing with musicians on street corners, admire a bag lady's treasures, and play with grubby children.

But she supposed all she was good for was scrawling her signature on the appropriate line. She would never graduate from school, never spend time goofing off with people her own age, never walk through a city alone, never discover exactly what her full capabilities might be. Right now, she was not even allowed to pick out her own clothes!

She fingered the cool white silk of her nightgown. It was extremely impractical. The hem dragged the floor for several inches. She had to either pick the front of the gown completely off the floor or shuffle her feet carefully to even walk. The smooth silk material made reclining on her mostly unused bed impossible. She always slid off. Add to that a top that was tight, low-cut, and all but see through, and one could understand why Relena hated it with such passion. However the gown was certainly beautiful, and the image consultant she had not hired insisted that only such a garment was appropriate for the royal Dove of Peace. Relena realized she was lucky that the dress had not come with a set of matching wings.

Both the paperwork and the dress hindered a midnight run. Relena also doubted she could convince the stubborn guards on the other side of the French doors to let her out. Persuasive speeches had never had any effect on her overprotective bodyguards, and despite giving up on idealistic pacifism, she was not prepared to resort to physical violence to have her way. There was a depressing lack of baseball bats in her quarters.

In a daring move, the Vice-Foreign Minister decided to exercise her rights as a teenager and forget that the paper Mt. Everest on her desktop existed. The dress was a hopeless cause. Her dresser and closet were filled with hundreds of similar garments, and she could not go around naked. If she could not play in the moonlight or slash all her clothes, what could she do?

Relena's eye fell on a group of framed pictures on the night table near her teddy bear. Oh yes, she could reminisce. Let's see. The newest and largest was one of her brother and Miss Noin, now Mrs. Merquise, smiling down at their newborn son. Her brother had insisted that he be called Zechs Merquise yet had interestingly given his son the name Zachery Peacecraft. Her nephew would be a year old now, and Relena had never met him. She was too busy; they were too busy. While she had never been close with her brother, she and Noin (Relena just could not break the habit of calling her that. For that matter, neither could Zechs.) had drifted apart. Relena had not even known of her sister-in-law's pregnancy until she received the announcement of Zachery's birth.

Pushing aside those troubling thoughts, she stared at the second picture. It was a rare group shot of the five Gundam pilots. She smiled gently at the memories: quiet, gentle, strong Trowa with his special kindness for women; Wufei, nearly Trowa's opposite, outspoken and insecure; Duo, the boisterous, often sarcastic, clown of the group who could never completely hide the shadows in his eyes; Quatre, her sweet friend who tried so hard to help her but was weighed down by his own responsibilities and obligations; and finally...Heero.

Relena smiled ruefully as her hand caressed the glass over his face. She would never understand Heero. He was such an enigma, promising to kill her and then protecting her time and time again, even fighting on her behalf. He was so calm and so cold. Relena never thought he would completely return her affection; she had accepted the inevitable. Oh sure, there would be moments when his eyes would soften just the slightest bit and he would say something kind. But Relena knew that those moments would be the extent of any remotely romantic gestures on his part. Then Heero had to ruin everything by kissing her. It was just the briefest, barest brushing of lips, but it was enough to make all of her walls and defenses crumble. It made her hope. Then he left. Vanished. Disappeared. Walked off into the starscape with his wonderfully tight jeans clinging to every inch of his firm, delectable--

"Damn it!" Relena shook her head violently, trying to clear the images from her mind, but the damage had been done. "Stop it Relena! He left you! Left you...although he does have a tendency to appear out of nowhere when I'm in danger...No, he always leaves me! He never even stays to ask how I've been! He's confusing as hell!"

She gave a snarl worthy of an irate wolverine and stormed away from the pictures. And promptly tripped and fell flat on her face courtesy of the nightgown from hell. At that moment her vid-phone let out a cheerful rendition of "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star." Whoever it was better have an important reason for calling at two in the morning. That she was fighting with her clothes on the floor and not asleep was irrelevant.

Relena angrily grabbed a pair of scissors and hopped towards the happily singing vid-phone while savagely cutting three feet of material from her gown. She punched the "Answer" button, pushed wild strands of hair off her face, and belatedly crossed her arms protectively over her chest while glaring at the grinning man that appeared on her screen.

"Good evening, Miss Relena. You look particularly lovely tonight."

Her eyes narrowed at the way he said "lovely," but she forced her voice to remain polite and detached. "Thank you. May I know your name and reason for calling my private number at such an hour?" She left unspoken the question how he got her private number.

"Oh, is it very late where you are? Please forgive me. I always forget about the time differences. My name is Keiichi Inaba. I was an associate of Doctor J. Would you happen to know the location of Heero Yuy?"

Relena's mouth fell open, and her fists clenched tighter. How dare this lecherous stranger rub salt in her wounds! "No, I don't know where Heero is. If someone who worked with Doctor J can't find him when he doesn't want to be found what makes you think I can? The war is over, and Doctor J is dead. You don't need Heero anymore," she snapped and terminated the connection.

She had only made it two steps when the screen behind her flashed back on. Relena froze in shock before slowly turning to stare in disbelief at the figure on her vid-screen.

Keiichi clucked chidingly, "You know I never expected you to be so rude. You could have been politer about denying his whereabouts. Your public image is very misleading." He smiled the slow, confident smile of a predator. "I never really expected you to know. I have some footage that I believe will be of great interest to you. Would you care to watch it?"

Without waiting for a reply, he sent the images scrolling across Relena's screen. She recoiled as though she had been struck a physical blow. What she saw in those few seconds could not be real. It was impossible. But she had the sinking feeling in her gut that somehow it was possible, and if those images were real her life would never be the same again.

"Now do you understand why I need your help? I can't do this by myself." Keiichi's voice could have been almost pleading if he did not sound so smug.

Relena stared ahead sightlessly. Her face was ashen, and she could not stop her body's trembling. Her mouth tried to form words several times but failed. Why couldn't she talk? Finally she turned desperate eyes on Keiichi and managed to force three words from her strangely dry throat, "Where are you?"