Hello, Goodbye, a gundam seed fanfic

category: Gundam SEED

disclaimer: I don't own it.

notes: I know, I know, this situation has been done 10283484358048 times before. But I felt like writing it too! A quick briefing – this is in chronological order, excepting the very first part.

Athrun opened a bottle of scotch with one hand and reached for two glasses with the other. "Do you want a drink?"

Cagalli straightened out of her slump and watched him carefully pour out his share. "Sure," she answered, snatching the bottle from his grasp and taking a long swig. At Athrun's disapproving glance, she frowned and turned back to the car window. "It's my wedding day, and I'm marrying a man I don't love. I'll have as much alcohol as I want."

"You'll spill it on your dress if you drink like that," was all Athrun said, ignoring her slight. Cagalli scoffed and swallowed another burning mouthful.

"Don't, Cagalli."

Cagalli shrugged Kira's hand off her shoulder and kept walking. "If you say that one more time, Kira, I will slap you here and now. I told you I've already decided."

"Dad didn't mean anything by it when he suggested it. It was idle thinking, that's all." At his sister's lack of response, Kira grabbed her arm forcefully and pulled her to a halt. "You can't marry Athrun!"

"Let me go, Kira!" Cagalli struggled against his grip and whirled around to scowl at him. "This isn't about you!"

Kira's voice was hard. "If you do this, I will not forgive you."

"If I don't, I won't forgive myself," she countered, and left him standing alone in the hallway.

The engagement ceremony was simple, held in the presence of only their families and select government officials from both countries.

He slipped a diamond as large as her knuckle onto her finger. It was a simple action, yes, but it said everything while meaning nothing.

A simple action, an acceptance of unhappiness, the beginning of the end.

Cagalli took her seat angrily. "Where's Kira?"

Athrun closed his newspaper. "I understand he couldn't make it. Shall we call for the tea?"

"Yes, call for the damn tea. Kira specifically told me he was going to be here too."

Athrun waved his hand at a passing maid. "I think he is touring the commons today. He hasn't been to the PLANTs in years, and you two are only here for two days." He focused in on her suddenly. "Is there a problem, Princess? Do you find my company so objectionable you cannot spend a half hour with me alone?"

Cagalli leaned forward and hissed, "Remember that neither of us is doing this willingly, Zala. We are pawns of our parliaments. I may be going through with this pretense to benefit the people, but that does not mean I will ever be happy with it."

"Underestimate me not, Cagalli. I recognize as well as you the benefits of federating our nations like this." Athrun smiled at the maid as their tea arrived on a silver tray, and waited until she was out of earshot before continuing. "The only hope we ever had of winning this long war was if we joined our forces together. With Orb and PLANT as allies we at least hold a chance of victory."

Cagalli sat back and glared at him. "It's all for our citizens. A state wedding is one of the best ways to raise morale during wartime."

"True. What are the royal families of constitutional monarchies but figureheads, anyway?" Athrun stirred his tea and returned to his newspaper, but not before adding sharply (only because she had started it), "And don't flatter yourself. You aren't exactly my ideal life partner, either."

There was a period of six months between the betrothal and the wedding, during which Athrun and Cagalli were made to visit each other as often as possible.

Athrun's first stay in Orb was spent staging as many publicity stunts as possible. He and Cagalli were photographed together constantly: at cafés, in shops, strolling through the outer gardens of the palace.

"Feed him some of your ice cream," ordered one of the public relations specialists through their headpieces. They paused in the middle of the sidewalk, and she tentatively extended her spoon out to him. Flash.

Athrun held her hand as they walked, their fingers intertwining as Cagalli pointed out the capitol building to him. Flash.

While watching Athrun's helicopter take off, Cagalli twisted her ring around and around her finger. Flash. Flash. Flash.

Cagalli despised the articles that were splashed across the front pages of all the major international papers. Saccharine photos of them laughing together, ridiculous spotlight features tracing their movements.

Her life had become a perfectly-rehearsed lie. Cagalli threw the remote at the television screen and watched the cracks splinter across the glass.

"Crown Prince Kira of Orb," the announcer proclaimed, the speakers echoing his voice throughout the grand ballroom. Kira straightened his tuxedo quickly, passed an encouraging thumbs-up to the two behind him, and started down the tall set of carpeted stairs. "See you soon," he mouthed.

Athrun approached Cagalli and offered his arm to her. She took it frostily and they waited to be introduced.

"I think this is the moment when I say something meaningful," Athrun murmured to her, "Like you look beautiful tonight."

Cagalli gaped at him, and for the split second she was caught unawares, their names were called. "Crown Prince Athrun of PLANT, and Princess Cagalli of Orb." Athrun pulled her forward abruptly, and she tripped slightly over her hem for the first step down.

As soon as they reached the bottom and the full attention of the guests was off them, Cagalli withdrew her arm from his and pushed him away. "What was that all about?"

Athrun laughed dryly. "I was just making sure you actually listen to what I say. I'm honestly amazed that you do." As he made to disperse into the crowd, he added over his shoulder, "And don't worry. I was lying."

The final battle of the war and the consequent signing of the peace treaty saw a solid month of continuous parties and celebrations to mark the occasion.

"Big day's coming up in a couple weeks, isn't it?" the seventeen-year-old daughter of the Scandinavian vice minister asked Cagalli excitedly during another repetitive dinner. "I'm sure you can't wait."

Cagalli forced a smile. She couldn't expect anyone years younger than her to understand. "Of course, although I get quite nervous the more I think about it."

"Prince Athrun is very dashing," the girl continued. "You must be so happy."

Cagalli bit her tongue. She knew how she was supposed to respond, but it didn't make the prepared response come out any easier. "Yes. I love him very much."

At that, she turned back to her soup. She hated it – all of it. She should be allowed to say how she felt, how she really felt. Not some words some strangers put in her mouth: words that didn't mean anything, words like love.

Out of the side of her vision she spied Athrun laughing openly at something Kira had whispered to him.

Kira sat down to tie his shoes. "Athrun, you're my oldest friend."

Athrun concentrated on fastening his buttons. "I have a feeling this is the protective-older-brother speech."

"It is," Kira admitted. "I know none of this is anyone's fault. To be honest, if I were in Cagalli's place, I probably would have done the same thing." He sighed. "But she's still my sister, and I want her to be happy."

"She hates me," Athrun intoned flatly.

"Cagalli doesn't hate you," Kira corrected. "It's only that she takes her time to grow close to people."

"She's not exactly my favorite person either."

"Just don't make her cry," Kira stressed. "Don't. I'll find out, and then I'll find you." Athrun wordlessly straightened his medals across the left side of his ceremonial uniform. "This is supposed to be the happiest day of her life. All I ask is that you don't make it the saddest."

Athrun finally met his friend's pleading eyes, and nodded. "Okay."

The wedding was drawn-out and tiring: the service exhaustively comprehensive to meet the expectations of the live television cameras stationed at every possible angle of the setting. The ceremony was held in a large semi-circular garden, with endless rows of seats for endless people encompassing the raised altar.

It was a beautiful day. Cagalli felt like sobbing.

The royal priest's voice echoed through the space. "I remind you that marriage is a precious gift, a lifelong dedication and a daily challenge to love each other more fully and more freely than the day before. I ask you, is there no deceit in your hearts as you come here today to form an interminable union?"

"None," Athrun and Cagalli answered together.

"With that understanding, do you, Athrun Zala, take Cagalli Yula Athha to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

He breathed in deeply, and forced his voice to be even. "I do."

"And do you, Cagalli Yula Athha, take Athrun Zala to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

She tried to calm her racing heart and look strong for the cameras. "…I do."

"Crown Prince Athrun of PLANT, and Princess Cagalli of Orb, may your union be forever blessed. By the authority vested in me, I announce with great joy that you are husband and wife. You may seal your vows with a kiss."

They turned to face each other, and Athrun slowly lifted Cagalli's veil off her face. Don't screw this up, her eyes screamed at him. One chance.

Athrun placed a hand lightly on her back and leaned in, their mouths meeting with a crash. One second, two, three. How long was long enough before he pulled away?

He broke it off precisely at four and didn't look at his wife as they walked down the steps amid enthusiastic applause.

They'd both changed for the reception, Athrun into a proper tuxedo and Cagalli a pale yellow ball gown. The dress was truly a marvel, Athrun noted, the material slipping fluidly between his fingers as he took hold of her waist. The orchestra started a grand waltz – the first dance.

There were no words between them, only practiced steps and tightening grips as they spun around the ballroom. Athrun had heard many girls speak of some connection they had felt in the dance, a ridiculous notion of instantly falling in love with one's partner. There was nothing of the sort between him and Cagalli then. They were both capable dancers and that was that. There was no call to make it into anything else, because that was all they would ever be. Husband and wife, a label that meant nothing at all.

The piece ended, and Cagalli graced him with a euphoric smile that was seldom ever directed at him. "That music was wonderful, wasn't it? I've loved it for as long as I can remember."

Athrun opened his mouth for a surprised response, that it had been one of his grandfather's favorites too, but Cagalli curtsied to him without waiting for an answer and twirled away into Kira's arms. Athrun stood alone in the midst of dancing couples, frowning. How typical, that it was his own wedding and Kira still got the girl.

"You can have the bed," Cagalli said dully as they entered their suite and Athrun tipped the bellboy.

"Cagalli, we flew all the way from Aprilius to Crete to have a proper honeymoon. I'm not letting you sleep on the sofa."

Cagalli narrowed her eyes at him. "Fine. You can have the sofa."

Athrun rubbed his temple tiredly. "All right."

One of Cagalli's ladies-in-waiting had a four-year-old niece named Rina who liked to visit often, and in the afternoons she would usually she would end up in Cagalli's room. Cagalli doted on the little girl, and most of their time was spent jumping on the bed or causing general mischief to bother the housekeepers. But there were times Athrun would join them too, showing them how to make fishing hooks out of paperclips or the fastest way to get up to the north tower to use the telescope.

Athrun tossed Rina into the air and caught her again carefully. "Tell your Aunt Mai to let you come back next week. I'm told the gamekeeper is getting in geese. They're always fun to chase."

Rina laughed brightly when Athrun lowered her onto the ground. "Okay!" She placed a wet kiss on his cheek before hurrying away to find her aunt.

Cagalli studied Athrun's kind expression. He'll make a good father someday, she thought, before she could stop herself.

Athrun knew it was ridiculous to envy Kira. He and Cagalli had twenty-three years of history between them. Their inseparability was inherent in their very natures.

Cagalli bent over in peals of laughter. "No, no, don't believe him, Athrun! I told Kira to go ask Ambassador Cilento's wife when her baby was due. And he did!"

Kira picked at his tiramisu, morose. "She was just overweight. I didn't hear the end of it from anyone for a whole two years after that."

Cagalli patted her brother's cheek affectionately, and Kira offered a warm smile in return. "We had the best times, didn't we, Kira?"

Athrun felt a wave of overwhelming disappointment wash over him. Cagalli had lit up when Kira told them he was coming for a brief stay in PLANT, and had floated around in a happy daze for a week preceding his arrival. Would there ever be a time – he wondered – when she treated the news of her own husband's coming so delightedly?

No. Athrun observed the sunlight color Cagalli's hair brighter and her skin a dappled gold, her hand clasped tightly in Kira's. Certainly not.

"Here, it's time for your medicine." Athrun placed two pills and a glass of water on the bedside table. "How are you feeling?"

Cagalli placed a hand on her forehead and moaned, "Like I want to die."

He sat down on a chair next to the bed. "Sorry that it had to ruin your entire week like this. The doctor says you picked it up from that dead bird you insisted on burying yourself. I told you stray animals are ridden with disease."

"Stop rubbing it in!" Cagalli glowered. "'I'm Athrun Zala and I always know best.'"

Athrun laughed, deep and unreserved, and leaned in to whisper teasingly, "I do."

Cagalli recoiled a little, his face suddenly extremely loud and incredibly close. She hated when he did things like that: pay attention to her and laugh at her jokes and try to please her. That wasn't how she had it planned, and Athrun was confusing everything.

Why was it so hard to keep distance between them?

She rolled over so her back was to him. "Uh, thanks for dropping by. I'm feeling awful right now, so I think I'm going to try to sleep for a bit."

Athrun watched her blankly, the good humor suddenly drained from the situation. "All right." Another moment passed and he stood up. "I'll be around if you need anything."

Cagalli closed her eyes as the door shut behind him and tried to fight back the lump in her throat.

"Why?" Cagalli asked when, the day after she mentioned in passing that she'd been missing home, Athrun handed her a ticket to Orb, the return date unspecified. She thought she knew the answer to her own question, but she wanted to hear him say the words anyway. "Why do you work so hard to make me happy?"

Athrun frowned. "You know why."

Athrun was utterly fascinated by the swell of Cagalli's stomach, how it continued to grow and grow until Cagalli couldn't reach past it to touch her own feet. He always had his arm wound around her waist while they walked, and never let her lift a finger to do anything.

Their baby was born beautiful and healthy, a week before their third wedding anniversary. Four months later, Cagalli picked up their son from his bassinet after his midmorning nap and rattled the entire castle with a horrendous scream.

"Sudden infant death," the royal doctor informed them gravely, but the following it was not your fault did not register for Cagalli. She clutched the still-warm blanket to her face and tried to block out the fact that Athrun was crying beside her.

Their child was gone. The press would not let them be. And they drifted, the easy familiarity that had defined their relationship twisting into an unspoken agreement of detachment.

Athrun glanced across the car at his wife, her hands resting on her flat stomach as they had a tendency to do lately. He felt a million miles from her.

Kira's wedding to Viceroy Clyne's daughter was a sober affair and the only reason Athrun and Cagalli stayed for the complete duration of the reception was because it was important to Kira, and because Athrun had introduced the two.

"Oh, Cagalli," Kira stopped moving during their dance when he realized his sister was sobbing. He held her close, conscious of his best friend's lost gaze fixed aimlessly outside at the rainstorm. "I'm so sorry."

And Cagalli wept onto his shoulder as she could not bring herself to do with Athrun.

But the days dragged on.

Cagalli knew it wasn't supposed to happen, and yet it did. Each time she caught sight of Athrun – laughing, talking, scowling, adjusting his tie in the reflection of the window with the slightest frown of concentration in his face – she felt a flood of warmth run through her body to the tips of her fingers. It began to happen so often she took to pinching the inside of her wrist to drive away the tingles whenever they came.

Five years, and everything was beginning to go wrong. She had long ago resigned herself to the fact that she would not love her husband. She shouldn't love him. She had not married him for love, and she had not come to love him thus far.

At nights Cagalli was surrounded by engulfing darkness and horrifying screams of the dead from all directions. Sometimes she dreamt of their child grown up and sleeping in a sunny meadow of wildflowers, with a set of eyes that were a recognizable green.

Then she would wake with a jolt and lie on her side of the bed with wetness on her cheeks, suddenly wishing that Athrun was not so far. That she had paid attention to his affectionate smiles when they still came freely, that she had appreciated his willingness to try to make their arrangement work, that she had reciprocated the emotion visible in his eyes before they had gone permanently grey.

"I love you." Cagalli's whisper was shaky, fearful. She was twenty-nine and had been beside this man for six years and she was stupid for not having realized it earlier. She hadn't wanted to, even when it had been clear as day to anyone but her and him. "I love you, Athrun."

And he pulled her into his arms.

notes: Fun fact: modern princesses do in fact have ladies-in-waiting. They manage their social schedules and things.

Anyway. HELLO, GOODBYE is the product of almost-exactly three months' work. I wrote it mostly in one week of September, struggled with the last third of the story for the next two months, and then finally finished/rearranged/edited it yesterday/today. This is also the longest oneshot I've ever written, and I'm quite proud of it.

Thank you for reading, and please, please review! I appreciate even the shortest of responses, because it means people out there did actually enjoy reading my work. And have yourselves a lovely little day.