I do not own Gundam Wing. There are mild spoilers for the end of the series and Endless Waltz, but not major. The lyrics are to the end of the song 'Last Impressions' from Endless Waltz. I do not own them.

How things could end up, decades after.

They called her a Queen.

Descended from the most noble of blood, Relena Peacecraft was as close to a real queen as Sanq could get. That's not why they called her one, though. They called her that because she had earned it. Her peace had come, and it had stayed.

Some did not appreciate this, though. And she was murdered.

War broke out almost immediately, two decades of quiet demolished in a single act. Leaderless except by a group of senators, the Sanq kingdom sought retribution in the blood of its enemies. These enemies, falsely accused of the assassination of one of the most respected diplomats in history, stood up for their honor and fought.

How easily we forget, how easy it is to be forgotten.

Twelve people attended her funeral. She was buried on the outskirts of her birth village in the Sanq Kingdom by her husband's hands, and her grave was marked by a single slab of stone with only her family crest to adorn it. Heero was grateful to all who came. While he had sent out a summons, over half the people that attended were in hiding. It meant a lot to him that they would risk their cover to attend.

Everyone was surprised when Mariemaia and her father showed up. The red-head who had once been a scared and hurt little girl had grown up into a beautiful woman. Her father had grown old though, and formerly aristocratic features were lined with stress, hair long having turned a powdered gray. No words were spoken on his status as a dead man.

Dorothy cried. Dorothy, who had seen life only as a reason to die, cried for Relena's death. She said it was for Noin, who couldn't be there, and made no attempt to hide or wipe her tears. Treize tells her that she is there, watching them, and that Relena's come as well. The others wonder on when he became a religious man, but when asked Mariemaia just smiles sadly.

Hilde was uncomfortable being there and continually sought out the warmth of her long time husband. She doesn't cry, but near the end of the ceremony she whispers her apologies brokenly. She ends up being the one supporting her spouse, but the others know that when she's home and in a comfortable environment, she'll break down like the rest of them. They know because that's what they'll be doing, too.

Millardo showed up like he always used to. Firm and unyielding, he makes no motion to mourn his lost sister. The only sign that can be seen is the ragged ends of his hair, which had been sheared hastily on his way there. His shining golden hair, once the pride of his appearance, was now dull and lusterless, hanging unevenly around a weathered face. The man looked older than he should have, and when word of his death reached the others two weeks after the funeral, they were not surprised. He was mourned.

Wufei appeared late, exhaustion lining his every feature, and trying to hassle his only son into form. When the boy caught sight of the grave marker and sad faces, he immediately quieted down. He remembered attending a couple of funerals like this one, where his father would secret him off in the night and tell him never to mention it.

The teenager wonders if these people had attended his mother's funeral after she had died in child birth. He wished he could have, but having only just been born he knew it was impossible. His father never told him where she was buried, and he'd only asked once. She'd been a doctor, though, the Chinese teen knew that much. He found the irony morbidly fascinating.

Wufei himself broke his long ritual. For Relena, he could do that. She was a strong woman to believe in peace, and even stronger to bring it about. He still brought a knife weapon to stick in the earth by her grave, but most everyone was surprised at his choice.

Jutte knives were curved, Japanese made, but they had no blade. Used primarily for defense and for disarming, they were also lethal if used in a proper thrusting motion. He had not given anything like it to the others, but this was made for Relena. It told of her life ideals, and when he handed it to Heero, the man fingered it reverently. Heero then pretended not to notice when the last to arrive walked passed him and pressed a gleaming knife into Millardo's hands. It was wrapped, but Heero caught the 06 engraved into the blade before the blonde man tucked it out of sight. He imagined the blacksmith had five more just like it somewhere.

Trowa had a cane in one hand when he arrived, and did not set it aside. This was a new sight for the others, who didn't know about the roadway accident he'd been subjected to. He came away a cripple, and the once deadly acrobat could no longer perform, but he was still there. He was getting too old for the circus anyway, or so Catherine kept saying.

Trowa left no gift on Relena's grave, save a single pink rose with a white ribbon tied to the stem. He claimed it came from Catherine, who sent her apologies for not being able to join her brother at the service. Only some believed the gift was not his, but none pushed for an explanation. And likewise Trowa didn't say that his beloved sister had died in that crash. He limped through life now without purpose, but he had made a point to come to this. He couldn't miss it.

Quatre was probably the most shocking of them all. He appeared hanging off the arm of his closest sister, Ira, who was a doctor. The woman was ageing gracefully, but it was obvious she was getting along in her years. Lemon hair was streaked liberally with gray and pulled back into a bun. She had the likeness of a wise woman, a grandmother who knew better than to spoil her grandchildren.

No one gathered noticed this, however. All eyes were on Quatre, who was sickly pale and hardly able to stand, clinging like a child to the support of his sister. A brown medical mask covering his mouth and nose stood out sharply against his skin, making it look nearly translucent. Hair was cut startlingly short, nearly to his skull, while what could bee seen of his wrists were bone and skin. Past him, in the car he came in, a pile of medical supplies and equipment could be seen. Setting near it was a wheelchair, ready just in case.

After draping a necklace of fine pearls across the grave stone with shaking hands, two white ones for every black, Quatre spoke to them frankly of his illness and impending death. If he thought back, Heero could remember Noin's funeral years ago, and how Quatre had had a particular cough. It had racked his body with heaves, and Duo had told him worriedly to get check out by a doctor. Heero had thought it was bronchitis then. He now knew that he was wrong.

After the initial questioning they hadn't asked more, but after the proceedings Wufei had pulled Ira aside and instructed her on how to contact him. He didn't receive word for a year and a half. Quatre had fought the tuberculosis with everything in him to see peace come again. Having hidden with him, protected him, and treated him for many years, Ira loved her brother like she had never loved anyone. It was this love that found her slipping a poison into his IV after the news had aired. Quatre died painlessly outside in the desert sun.

Duo watched everything from the side, all sad eyes and clutching Hilde to his side, seeking some kind of warmth in this tragedy. Duo himself was changed, and it wasn't without irony that he was observed as the best off of the original five. His braid, which had once been used to count the losses in his life, had long ago disappeared. The chestnut locks had been cut and pulled back into a high tail, and falsely grinning masks had been foregone for real emotion. The priest outfit that he had worn during war and bloodshed he had burned with Shinigami, and the clothes he wore now were a calm beige and white.

He brought nothing to place by the grave, just as he always brought nothing. He made no exception for Relena, because she didn't like seeing some lifted above others. Duo respected that. He also mourned. He mourned the state of the people here, he mourned the lost contact between comrades, and he mourned the shattering of peace that thousands had paid for in blood. But mostly, he mourned the loss of the greatest person he had ever known.

Once everyone was there and had paid their respects individually, they all sat together and did it as one. The silence was terrible. Eventually Treize requested that a religious ceremony take place, and Duo stood in front of the others and awkwardly stumbled through half remembered lines and prayers. It was enough to satisfy the man, but it left Duo feeling ashamed he couldn't recall Father Maxwell's teachings. Later, after they had gotten home, Hilde would find him reading a bible.

The funeral was over now, but no one moved. Eventually Dorothy remembered the bouquet of white Heather flowers that she was clutching, and laid them to rest directly on the freshly dug dirt. It was then that the silence was broken. It was Quatre, who was humming a tune. He didn't get eight notes before he started coughing terribly, but Trowa picked it up without a hesitation.

Duo joined after a minute, having forgotten the song until then. Treize made an attempt, but he was horribly off key and stopped, listening. Wufei and Hilde had joined the humming now, and the sound was becoming beautiful. Dorothy was sobbing over the headstone, and Heero stood, stiff and still, as he had through most of the preceding.

And then Mariemaia began to sing. A beat later Millardo joined, an octave lower, and the two crashed in a crescendo filled with unbelievable emotion, backed by the notes of Relena's faithful. There was surprise when Wufei's son joined in, a strong tenor in the background, and Dorothy pulled herself together tearily to sing out high soprano with fierce emotion.

It was then, and then only, that it happened. Finally, finally, Heero cried. He cried in wrenching, tearless, sobs that sounded more like wails of anguish, but he was crying. And around him, his family continued to sing.

I believe your love

Never give up...

Spread open your wounded wings.

Flying up to the sky, you sketch

a boundless dream, so far away...

I believe your dream

Show me a smile,

even though you're overflowing with sorrow,

since someday you want to be proud of

this irreplaceable moment...

I believe your love

As we trembled,

we repeated our wish in a kiss.

(You are here... and so am I...)

Please don't ever forget...

I believe your dream.

Feelings that intensify...

Turning affection into a prayer

I want to show you my heart's pounding

So hot, so fierce...

So far away

I believe in your dream.