Title: Relena 1/10?
Author: Canisa
Pairng: leading to 1+2/2+1
Warning: AU (No GUNDAM!!!!), shounen ai, ANTI-RELENA!!! Despite what the
title may imply..
Note: This fanfic is inspired by the book "Rebecca" by Daphne Du Maurier. I did not create any of the Gundam wing characters (as much as I want them.). Mostly first person narrative. should be fairly easy to guess who it is ^___^ This is a rewrite of my first fanfic! I had posted it on the gw-fan ML one and a half years ago... not sure if it was on 1x2ML though.. And looking back now, there are a lot of things I'd like to change to make the fic better since I still like the concept of this fic ^____^ (just in case you are interested, the original title was "nothing as it seems".
Prologue
In his memory, she was always beautiful and charming. The sun would always seem to be shinning when she appeared. Her smile would always radiate from her pretty little face and infected everyone around her. Her voice, soft and pleasant, always seemed to hypnotize any souls and her eyes would always capture everyone's heart with their clear aqua blue.
She was the definition of perfection. There was no doubt in his mind that her beauty along could make men move mountains and drain the seven sea if she desired.
Oh yes. She was always beautiful.
He sighed and dropped his head slightly as he slide down against the wall. The air around him was getting thicker and the darkness outside of the window only chilled his heart even more.
He let out a bitterly smile. His eyes briefly glazed over the scene before him.
Even now, when she lied there on the cold floor as her long blonde hair spilled messily on the floor, she still looked beautiful. Even with a stream of crimson oozing out of her chest and running down her golden gown and pooling next to her limp arm, she still looked amazingly beautiful.
He tumbled back and for the first time in his life he was unsure of what to do. With his head down, he quivered, feeling nothing but the coldness of the blood-tainted dagger that he gripped so tightly in his fist.
Did he make the right choice? Did he do the correct thing? Was it the only way?
He glanced at the still body on the floor and bit down his lips, driving out the lingering doubts.
It had to be. There was nothing else that he could do.
With determination, he stood up shakily. He had also lost so much blood that the sudden movement had made him dizzy. But he held onto himself immediately, borrowing support from the wall. The wound on his lower abdomine was so bad that a pool of blood was starting to gather at his feet. Wincing slightly, he placed his hand on the wound, applying pressure to stop bleeding. Though the wound was far from life threatening, he needed to treat it immediately. Sparing last glance at the motionless body, he turned and began to head for the door.
As if on cue, a soft chuckle caught his attention. It was very soft, like a pin drop on the grassfield. But he caught it nevertheless because it had sounded innocent and serene and ..familiar. Locking his eyebrows tightly, his heart pounded in his chest furiously. Steeling his remaining strength, he turned around slowly, hoping that he was wrong, hoping that the sound was only a figment of his imagination, hoping that what he heard was his guilt playing tricks on him. But when he finally locked his eyes with the familiar clear blue, he confirmed his deepest fear.
It was already too late.
Chapter 1 ---The Thief----
People nowadays are tense I tell you. If you look carefully, you can see the veins popping out of their forehead like every second. And you wonder why people die so early?
That's because they fucking worry too much.
Relax! Step back a little. Life would be so much more pleasant if you don't let yourself get attached to anything. After all, we come with nothing and we leave with nothing. That's the rule, man. God makes it this way and we aren't there to oppose it.
So the best policy of surviving this life is to let go.
Just let go.
Things that you own right now. let it be a cottage, your 10 beautiful concubines or even your precious gold and silvers. Face it man, you are never gonna take those with you to the grave. So why bother? You really wanna spend every waking moment of your life worrying about your possessions? So what if one of your women ran away with another lowlife, Big Deal. You had your fun. So what if some jackass stole your gold and silvers? As I said before, it's not like you are gonna take it with you when you die anyway so why banging your head over it?
You still with me here? Do you buy this bullshit? I can see from the vacant look of your eyes, you do not. That's all right. No hard feelings. I totally understand.
Because the fat man chasing behind me did not buy it either.
"BRAT!"
Ah, perfect example. Remember I told you earlier that some people just could not let go?
"You stop right there!"
This fat guy was unfortunately bounded with his materialistic possession, his bread store.
"STOP!!! YOU LITTLE THIEF!!!"
Like everyone else in the Sanc Kingdom, he is fucking worrying about a miniscule detail in his life, which translates to the loaf of bread underneath my arm. The poor bastard has been chasing me throughout this miserable market place with no luck. From the glance over my shoulder, I could see that his face is red from this exhaustive chase. I could hear, besides the useless moronic shouting of the other merchants, his heavy breathing. Judging from his gross, overweight body, I'd say he is risking his precious health for nothing but this tiny dingy little piece of bread.
When the possessor is owned by his possessions, it's a really sad thing, don't you think?
"Somebody!! Stop him!!!"
And you wonder why people die so early.
"Oi---- Fat ass! You need some exercise there!" I just couldn't help it. I yelled out in my usual mocking tone. "Consider it as a donation to the poor." I laughed, my long chestnut hair blown in the hot summer breeze. I rushed through the little alleyway of the market place with ease. 16 years of living on the street gives you that kind of advantage. You get to know the turn and curve of the streets.
Yes. By now you already know what I am.
I am a thief, a lowly despicable thief who leeches within the society. But how can you blame me for what I am? Abandoned ever since I could remember, I can only go by my instinct to survive. With no one to provide for me, with no one to shelter me, I learn the tricks and skills to get myself fed.
Yes, I steal, but not for the wealth. I only take what I need in order to keep my strength to live in this world, because, like I said before, we are all gonna die anyway, there is no need for myself to attach to anything materialistic.
And I have been a very clever thief for no one has ever caught me.. until ...
"ITAI!!!!!" I rubbed my bruised cheek as I landed heavily on the ground, my bread fell on the ground, smudged by the dirt. "Fuck." I jumped to my feet, one hand quickly snatched the bread and ready to run. Yet, a strong hand landed on my right shoulder, preventing me from doing so.
I winced. It was a strong grip, threatening to break the bones underneath if I were to move. I turned around only to meet with a pair of cobalt eyes. "So you are trying to be a hero ne? Well, today is just the day!" I gave him a nasty smile. Suddenly dropping my weight, I curved up my fingers into a tight fist and ready to aim for his fragile pretty nose, but damn, the man was just too quick. His other hand reached for my left arm immediately and twisted it behind my back like I was a piece of wood.
"ITAIII!!!" I screamed again, delivering promises of death from my narrowing violet eyes. But my captor did not waiver against my glare. The cobalt blue eyes stared back at me with indifference.
"Thank you, sir!!" The fatman finally caught up with us. He breathed laboriously as he bent, one hand resting on his knee. "Thank you for catching this little thief!"
I sneered. I broke away from the icy eyes and turned to the bread owner. I strained a malicious grin, trying to appear as lighthearted as I could without showing my panic.
"How much?" my captor suddenly spoke in an emotionless tone. One so cold that I shuddered to imagine that it could only come from the land of dead.
The bread owner was surprised at the question apparently as he widened his eyes. He leaned a little closer to my captor as he tried to understand. "How much?" He scratched his head like a no-head big fat pig. "Sir.. I am not quite sure what you mean..this little brat is not my slave. "
My captor raised his eyebrow slightly. Oh yeah. I could just tell how much patience and love he has for this fat guy. "The bread. How much"
The bread owner was more than confused but he gave the figure to him. I, on the other hand, started to boil in a fury. "Look, you punk! I do not need you God damn charity here. Take me to the authority for all I care. I don't want to owe you anything, you got that?" I could hear the sharp edge of my tone piercing through the air. The market place suddenly quieted down. The world seems to be centering around me and my captor. I maintained my glare.
I want to be free!
I screamed inside my head.
I do not want any strings from this world to attach to me. I do not want his help. I do not want to have him lingering in my mind.
But damn the man who failed to see through me. He suddenly released me and threw a piece of silver coin to the bread owner.
"I do not want your god damn sympathy!!" I scream at him, knowing too well that it was only a futile attempt.
The man ignored my words as he turned his back, proceeding to leave.
Furious, I stepped up, grabbing his wrist from behind. But with a fluid movement, he disentangled himself from me easily. He gave me this one last look with his icy blue eyes before he disappears into the crowd.
Damn him...
I dropped on the ground like a dead weight and the image of him could no longer go away.
I was cursed.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
The next time I encountered that pair of indifferent blue eyes was only two days after. It totally took me by surprise. Of all the places I have found him once again. Though it was from a distance, I recognized him immediately.
I shifted my feet nervously as I watched him standing at the balcony of our grand castle. I blinked my eyes.
Could it be?
I stared at his delicate features. Only two days and he looked so pale and sickly that I could not believe that this was the man who had captured me with such strong grip at the marketplace. His commoner clothing was gone. Instead, he is wrapped in a white toga lined with golden edge. Though his brown messy hair was still untamed underneath his heavy crown braced around his forehead, his eyes displayed the same coldness that I had witnessed from two days ago.
Could it be that he is no other but the king of our Sanc Kingdom?
"My countryman." The king's advisor announced as he steps up from behind the King. The tall advisor tilted his head a bit, letting his brown hair fell only on one side of his face. His green eyes were stern and flat. He had looked as if he had not slept for days.
But I did not pay too much attention to the advisor. I only continued to stare at our King, half listening to the announcement. I suppose that it is expected that I do not recognize the King of our kingdom. In the past, he hardly showed his presence at the public gathering. It had always been the Queen who addressed to the public.
"A tragedy has occurred." The advisor spoke with grave expression.
My heart cringed as I realized what his identity means. He is the king of our country and he has a beautiful wife who...
"Queen Relena has been assassinated."
I widened my eyes in surprise as I heard the words clearly spoken.
Assassinated?
I watched our King stood like a rock on the balcony.
Was that the reason he became so sickly and pale? Because his beloved Queen was assassinated?
Strangely, my heart sank. The thought of our King grieving for his love was not exactly appetizing.
"In order to protect our country and our King, the king's personal bodyguard is to be chosen among the greatest swordsmen." The advisor ignored the shock and whispers permeated in the crowd down below him. He raised his voice slightly but not too highly such that it recaptured everyone's attention. "A match will be conducted two weeks from now. And I urge you to volunteer your skill. Our country needs you to maintain its stability and peace."
I stared into the lifeless blue eyes of our King. And I knew instantly what I needed to do in order to cast away the shadow in my dreams.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Note: This fanfic is inspired by the book "Rebecca" by Daphne Du Maurier. I did not create any of the Gundam wing characters (as much as I want them.). Mostly first person narrative. should be fairly easy to guess who it is ^___^ This is a rewrite of my first fanfic! I had posted it on the gw-fan ML one and a half years ago... not sure if it was on 1x2ML though.. And looking back now, there are a lot of things I'd like to change to make the fic better since I still like the concept of this fic ^____^ (just in case you are interested, the original title was "nothing as it seems".
Prologue
In his memory, she was always beautiful and charming. The sun would always seem to be shinning when she appeared. Her smile would always radiate from her pretty little face and infected everyone around her. Her voice, soft and pleasant, always seemed to hypnotize any souls and her eyes would always capture everyone's heart with their clear aqua blue.
She was the definition of perfection. There was no doubt in his mind that her beauty along could make men move mountains and drain the seven sea if she desired.
Oh yes. She was always beautiful.
He sighed and dropped his head slightly as he slide down against the wall. The air around him was getting thicker and the darkness outside of the window only chilled his heart even more.
He let out a bitterly smile. His eyes briefly glazed over the scene before him.
Even now, when she lied there on the cold floor as her long blonde hair spilled messily on the floor, she still looked beautiful. Even with a stream of crimson oozing out of her chest and running down her golden gown and pooling next to her limp arm, she still looked amazingly beautiful.
He tumbled back and for the first time in his life he was unsure of what to do. With his head down, he quivered, feeling nothing but the coldness of the blood-tainted dagger that he gripped so tightly in his fist.
Did he make the right choice? Did he do the correct thing? Was it the only way?
He glanced at the still body on the floor and bit down his lips, driving out the lingering doubts.
It had to be. There was nothing else that he could do.
With determination, he stood up shakily. He had also lost so much blood that the sudden movement had made him dizzy. But he held onto himself immediately, borrowing support from the wall. The wound on his lower abdomine was so bad that a pool of blood was starting to gather at his feet. Wincing slightly, he placed his hand on the wound, applying pressure to stop bleeding. Though the wound was far from life threatening, he needed to treat it immediately. Sparing last glance at the motionless body, he turned and began to head for the door.
As if on cue, a soft chuckle caught his attention. It was very soft, like a pin drop on the grassfield. But he caught it nevertheless because it had sounded innocent and serene and ..familiar. Locking his eyebrows tightly, his heart pounded in his chest furiously. Steeling his remaining strength, he turned around slowly, hoping that he was wrong, hoping that the sound was only a figment of his imagination, hoping that what he heard was his guilt playing tricks on him. But when he finally locked his eyes with the familiar clear blue, he confirmed his deepest fear.
It was already too late.
Chapter 1 ---The Thief----
People nowadays are tense I tell you. If you look carefully, you can see the veins popping out of their forehead like every second. And you wonder why people die so early?
That's because they fucking worry too much.
Relax! Step back a little. Life would be so much more pleasant if you don't let yourself get attached to anything. After all, we come with nothing and we leave with nothing. That's the rule, man. God makes it this way and we aren't there to oppose it.
So the best policy of surviving this life is to let go.
Just let go.
Things that you own right now. let it be a cottage, your 10 beautiful concubines or even your precious gold and silvers. Face it man, you are never gonna take those with you to the grave. So why bother? You really wanna spend every waking moment of your life worrying about your possessions? So what if one of your women ran away with another lowlife, Big Deal. You had your fun. So what if some jackass stole your gold and silvers? As I said before, it's not like you are gonna take it with you when you die anyway so why banging your head over it?
You still with me here? Do you buy this bullshit? I can see from the vacant look of your eyes, you do not. That's all right. No hard feelings. I totally understand.
Because the fat man chasing behind me did not buy it either.
"BRAT!"
Ah, perfect example. Remember I told you earlier that some people just could not let go?
"You stop right there!"
This fat guy was unfortunately bounded with his materialistic possession, his bread store.
"STOP!!! YOU LITTLE THIEF!!!"
Like everyone else in the Sanc Kingdom, he is fucking worrying about a miniscule detail in his life, which translates to the loaf of bread underneath my arm. The poor bastard has been chasing me throughout this miserable market place with no luck. From the glance over my shoulder, I could see that his face is red from this exhaustive chase. I could hear, besides the useless moronic shouting of the other merchants, his heavy breathing. Judging from his gross, overweight body, I'd say he is risking his precious health for nothing but this tiny dingy little piece of bread.
When the possessor is owned by his possessions, it's a really sad thing, don't you think?
"Somebody!! Stop him!!!"
And you wonder why people die so early.
"Oi---- Fat ass! You need some exercise there!" I just couldn't help it. I yelled out in my usual mocking tone. "Consider it as a donation to the poor." I laughed, my long chestnut hair blown in the hot summer breeze. I rushed through the little alleyway of the market place with ease. 16 years of living on the street gives you that kind of advantage. You get to know the turn and curve of the streets.
Yes. By now you already know what I am.
I am a thief, a lowly despicable thief who leeches within the society. But how can you blame me for what I am? Abandoned ever since I could remember, I can only go by my instinct to survive. With no one to provide for me, with no one to shelter me, I learn the tricks and skills to get myself fed.
Yes, I steal, but not for the wealth. I only take what I need in order to keep my strength to live in this world, because, like I said before, we are all gonna die anyway, there is no need for myself to attach to anything materialistic.
And I have been a very clever thief for no one has ever caught me.. until ...
"ITAI!!!!!" I rubbed my bruised cheek as I landed heavily on the ground, my bread fell on the ground, smudged by the dirt. "Fuck." I jumped to my feet, one hand quickly snatched the bread and ready to run. Yet, a strong hand landed on my right shoulder, preventing me from doing so.
I winced. It was a strong grip, threatening to break the bones underneath if I were to move. I turned around only to meet with a pair of cobalt eyes. "So you are trying to be a hero ne? Well, today is just the day!" I gave him a nasty smile. Suddenly dropping my weight, I curved up my fingers into a tight fist and ready to aim for his fragile pretty nose, but damn, the man was just too quick. His other hand reached for my left arm immediately and twisted it behind my back like I was a piece of wood.
"ITAIII!!!" I screamed again, delivering promises of death from my narrowing violet eyes. But my captor did not waiver against my glare. The cobalt blue eyes stared back at me with indifference.
"Thank you, sir!!" The fatman finally caught up with us. He breathed laboriously as he bent, one hand resting on his knee. "Thank you for catching this little thief!"
I sneered. I broke away from the icy eyes and turned to the bread owner. I strained a malicious grin, trying to appear as lighthearted as I could without showing my panic.
"How much?" my captor suddenly spoke in an emotionless tone. One so cold that I shuddered to imagine that it could only come from the land of dead.
The bread owner was surprised at the question apparently as he widened his eyes. He leaned a little closer to my captor as he tried to understand. "How much?" He scratched his head like a no-head big fat pig. "Sir.. I am not quite sure what you mean..this little brat is not my slave. "
My captor raised his eyebrow slightly. Oh yeah. I could just tell how much patience and love he has for this fat guy. "The bread. How much"
The bread owner was more than confused but he gave the figure to him. I, on the other hand, started to boil in a fury. "Look, you punk! I do not need you God damn charity here. Take me to the authority for all I care. I don't want to owe you anything, you got that?" I could hear the sharp edge of my tone piercing through the air. The market place suddenly quieted down. The world seems to be centering around me and my captor. I maintained my glare.
I want to be free!
I screamed inside my head.
I do not want any strings from this world to attach to me. I do not want his help. I do not want to have him lingering in my mind.
But damn the man who failed to see through me. He suddenly released me and threw a piece of silver coin to the bread owner.
"I do not want your god damn sympathy!!" I scream at him, knowing too well that it was only a futile attempt.
The man ignored my words as he turned his back, proceeding to leave.
Furious, I stepped up, grabbing his wrist from behind. But with a fluid movement, he disentangled himself from me easily. He gave me this one last look with his icy blue eyes before he disappears into the crowd.
Damn him...
I dropped on the ground like a dead weight and the image of him could no longer go away.
I was cursed.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
The next time I encountered that pair of indifferent blue eyes was only two days after. It totally took me by surprise. Of all the places I have found him once again. Though it was from a distance, I recognized him immediately.
I shifted my feet nervously as I watched him standing at the balcony of our grand castle. I blinked my eyes.
Could it be?
I stared at his delicate features. Only two days and he looked so pale and sickly that I could not believe that this was the man who had captured me with such strong grip at the marketplace. His commoner clothing was gone. Instead, he is wrapped in a white toga lined with golden edge. Though his brown messy hair was still untamed underneath his heavy crown braced around his forehead, his eyes displayed the same coldness that I had witnessed from two days ago.
Could it be that he is no other but the king of our Sanc Kingdom?
"My countryman." The king's advisor announced as he steps up from behind the King. The tall advisor tilted his head a bit, letting his brown hair fell only on one side of his face. His green eyes were stern and flat. He had looked as if he had not slept for days.
But I did not pay too much attention to the advisor. I only continued to stare at our King, half listening to the announcement. I suppose that it is expected that I do not recognize the King of our kingdom. In the past, he hardly showed his presence at the public gathering. It had always been the Queen who addressed to the public.
"A tragedy has occurred." The advisor spoke with grave expression.
My heart cringed as I realized what his identity means. He is the king of our country and he has a beautiful wife who...
"Queen Relena has been assassinated."
I widened my eyes in surprise as I heard the words clearly spoken.
Assassinated?
I watched our King stood like a rock on the balcony.
Was that the reason he became so sickly and pale? Because his beloved Queen was assassinated?
Strangely, my heart sank. The thought of our King grieving for his love was not exactly appetizing.
"In order to protect our country and our King, the king's personal bodyguard is to be chosen among the greatest swordsmen." The advisor ignored the shock and whispers permeated in the crowd down below him. He raised his voice slightly but not too highly such that it recaptured everyone's attention. "A match will be conducted two weeks from now. And I urge you to volunteer your skill. Our country needs you to maintain its stability and peace."
I stared into the lifeless blue eyes of our King. And I knew instantly what I needed to do in order to cast away the shadow in my dreams.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*