When I find my Peace of Mind
Written by Elvarein
Proofreaders : Shawny Wong, Fatima, Cyberwolf
Words in Italics are used to signify a person's thoughts.
For example: He must think me a lovesick girl
If you see a line, that means a change of perspective (i.e. from Relena's Point
of View to Heero's Point of View) or a jump to an event in a different time.
Authors' Notes: The main characters in Gundam Wing have very well developed
and beautiful personalities. However, I believe that the depths of their characters
are often not fully explored or delved into, with many viewpoints not attempting
to see beyond the surface. In this fanfic, I will endeavour with an especial
focus on Heero and Relena to discuss my views on the pilots characters. Also,
many thanks to my proofreaders who have given me much feedback which has helped
to craft this story. The sun was setting in the west and dusk was falling, casting its gentle cloak
of silence and darkness over the land. A land which no longer showed the scars
of war, a land that knew peace at last....... unlike its occupants. It is AC.207,
and although memory had faded, it was not gone. People the world over still
remembered the pain of caused by the war. The many graveyards erected for the
fallen and that dotted the countryside bore mute testimony to that. In one particular graveyard, a figure stood alone and silent before
a grave sheltered by a grove of willow trees and covered with the sky's tears.
The figure was tall and slender, a woman just come into her own. She was dressed
simply, in a long dark grey dress and a pair of white shoes, and wore no ornaments,
save a gold ring topped by a clear azure crystal. Her face was breathtakingly
beautiful, just like that of a Faery princess whom knights lost their hearts
to and though still youthful had wisdom, compassion and grief etched on it.
She had eyes that were deep pools of blue, filled with gentleness and love.
However in those eyes of midnight blue, there lingered a deep and abiding sorrow.
Over it all though, there was a layer of serene timelessness, a complete acceptance
of the world's imperfection and a strong love for its beauty. He crept up behind her on silent feet with the careless grace
of a professional. He was almost upon her, when suddenly, he heard a familiar
voice call out fondly.
"Duo! Will you ever grow up?" The voice was warm and
laughing and betrayed the caller's amusement and vibrancy.
"Oh! Woe is me, can't a guy have some fun?" Duo sighed,
and looking in the direction of the caller slapped his head theatrically. His
eyes and face were overbrimming with laughter and mirth, for he was ever the
eternal child and jester.
However, although he usually carried that smile which was the
essence of joy, he had another side to him, a side that was dark and sorrowful.
His eyes and countenance also held a measure of grief which showed that he too
was not left without scars from the war. For Duo had lost many people to the
reaper's scythe while already orphaned in his youth.
Solo and his gang, his erstwhile companions who he had worked
with to survive on the merciless streets and who for a time where like brothers
unto him. Father Maxwell and Sister Helen the first two people to touch his
heart, give him hope and shelter not expecting anything and who loved him and
cared for him. All of them cut like flowers before their time, his hopes, his
life and joy all dashed to the ground and emptied. His eyes also contained the
haunted look of one who had danced with and courted death; No man can come close
to death without changing. Fortunately for him, someone loved him enough to
accept him for what he was and to watch over him after the war, saving his soul.
At the voice's call, the female figure had whirled around, slightly
startled, but still unruffled and calm. Her actions were fluid and smooth, carrying
the grace and regality of a princess. Upon seeing Duo and the caller she smiled,
the sadness in her eyes and on her face momentarily dissipating, to be replaced
by laughter and light.
"Duo, Hilde! It's been too long since we last met. How is
life in the church?" she asked laughing like a girl. "I still have
not gotten used to the idea of Duo giving sermons in a cathedral."
Hilde laughed as she walked up the path to the grave where Duo
and the lady stood. Her eyes were sparkling with life and fun, although they
too held the tinge of sorrow that the war had brought to all. Hilde was Duo's
love and angel who had watched over and comforted him through his tormented
dreams, healing and restoring his wounded mind and heart. She always had a kind
word for him, for she had fallen for he who was Death's Messenger no longer.
Smiling brightly and with a twinkle in her eye, she said, "You
should come over someday and hear Duo preach. His sermons are very original
and he always gets the whole congregation in stitches and the other chaplains'
in fits."
"Oi! They aren't that funny, and at least my sermons get
the point across, unlike the other old fuddy duddies. Besides you love me for
that, don't you?" asked Duo with puppy eyes. Duo pouted and was about to reply when he was interrupted by a
stern voice, "Stop pouting, are you a man or are you a girl?"
The trio looked up, to see a Chinese male, who was looking disapprovingly
at Duo, although a slight twinkle in his eye told them of his wry amusement.
He was tall and slender, with a catlike and competent grace. His gaze was firm
and strong, his features were strong, speaking of a will of iron beneath that
slight and scholarly frame.
His hair was raven black, and tied up with a neatness which hinted
of orderly habits and he was wearing the preventers uniform. Next to him stood
a female, similarly dressed, who was laughing out loud at the antics of the
two. Her hair was brown and long, and her face filled with compassion and kindness.
Overshadowing their faces though, was the shade of sorrow, gently mourning,
ever present in the Graveyard of the Heroes.
"Wufei! Never thought I would be glad to hear your voice
again and Sally! You're looking good, " said Duo, laughing with abandon.
"All we need now are for the other two to show up and we are all here."
"Actually they were just behind us. They were delayed by
the drinks they brought along," replied Sally who turned around and waved
to the two couples making their way atop the hill where the grave stood alone
in a grove of willows.
"Indeed," said Wufei with a smile on his usually stern
face. "It is rare that we have a chance to be together, especially with
the weight of our duties. For is it not said that death is a lighter than a
feather and duty heavier than a mountain?"
"Heero thought of it that way during the war. At that time,
nothing else mattered except for the mission," said the lady. She was smiling
sadly, caught up in remembrance of a time which though past still caused a lot
of pain.
"Indeed," said a gentle and almost feminine voice in
sorrowful tones. "But despite that, he always looked out for his comrades
and the colonies, though that was all hidden under his mask of ice. For he truly
was the dark champion, fighting for the peace and life of the colonies, and
then later the whole world. He took the burden upon himself, a dread weight
for such slender shoulders, and never did he for a moment give up or falter."
The group on the hill turned, to see that the other two pilots
had arrived with another female. Quatre, Trowa and Dorothy, the lady put names
to those familiar faces. The surviving members were almost all there... a stab
of pain filled her heart and tears almost sprang to her eyes, remembering the
cold body in the grave which would never know what life with peace was like.
She looked up towards the sky where the colonies were, thinking of her brother
and his love, working hard to ensure the fragile peace of this age. She then
breathed deeply and studied her dear friends.
Quatre was garbed in a suit, and he had an aura of confidence
and strength which was not there before. His beautiful eyes had not changed,
for they were still filled with an abiding compassion and love for the world,
although they were still clouded by the pain of his father's death which time
had not yet healed. At the moment however, they were filled with concern for
her; for her iron control had slipped for a moment, showing that wound had not
yet fully healed. For she had lost the most to the war. The lady judging correctly
smiled gently and reassuringly at him, easing his worry and lightening the mood.
Dorothy had changed the most however, she reflected, for the face
that used to be a mask of velvet lined with steel had become more open and gentle,
having learnt the hardest lesson of all, acceptance and how to love. Her face
was calm and serene, finally at peace with her father's death, and her cynical
eyes held the faint light called Hope. There was a look of askance on her face,
a question which Dorothy had once posed to her: How can you bear it? For although
Dorothy seemed to be very strong and cold outwardly, she was still very much
the maiden emotionally. She had just withdrawn into a shell of arrogance and
cynicism to protect herself, and only now, was the more gentle side being coaxed
out of the prison of its own device. Like a flower blooming readily in the warmth and light of the
sun, Trowa had opened up in response to the love and affection of his sister.
His face was gentler now, filled with contentment with his job. A bright, fierce
hope for a better future burned in his heart. Like the other pilots, his face
reflected the burden the weight that the war and the deaths he had dealt caused,
as well as the solitary life of an orphan, something that was shared by Duo
and Heero...
"Now that we are all here, lets pay our respects and go grab
a bite together." Duo suggested, trying to break the uncomfortable silence
that Quatre's last remark had made and interrupting the her thoughts. "
'Cause I'm hungry."
"You are always hungry," remarked Trowa dryly.
"How can you blame me? I'm a growing boy," Duo protested
with such an artfully contrived face that everyone burst out laughing.
The group then moved to pay their respects to the deceased, each
of them laying an item in front of the grave, before they observed a moment
of silence with their heads bowed and uncovered. In the midst of the silence,
they remembered the past, and took strength from their memories of the one who
lay in the grave. Each of them said things in their hearts to this knight and
prince who had never faltered even at the end, doing what he thought was right
and always fighting for those he loved.
"Mama!" shouted a young vibrant voice, followed by
the pitter-patter of feet. The group looked up in surprise, for the voice invoked
a memory in all of them.
"That sounded like a young version of Heero..." Duo
began, getting ready to make a quip.
The lady however smiled, a light filling her eyes. She spun around
and saw what she expected, a young boy with prussian blue eyes and brown hair
running towards her. She held her hands laughing like a girl and the boy jumped
into her embrace. The boy was followed by a young woman with flaming red hair,
laughing as she try to catch up with the boy, and behind them, at a more stately
pace was Lady Anne (Une) who was smiling at their joy.
"Is that your son Relena?" Dorothy asked the female
figure in surprise. "He has grown so much like his father."
The boy looked around and seeing the unfamiliar faces frowned
slightly, looking at them. The group was struck once more with his similarity
to Heero. He asked his mother, "Who are these people mum?"
Tears filled the eyes of the pilots, he was just like how Heero
might have been when young, the same frown, the same smile without the weight
of the universe on his shoulders and death looking out of his eyes. He was so
similar and dissimilar at the same time. There was the same iron will behind
the eyes but without the apathy. He looked serious like Heero but had innocence,
trust and a great capacity for love in those eyes.
The girl with the flaming hair answered him. "Do not be afraid,
they are your uncles and they love you like they loved your father. The one
with sandy blonde hair is Uncle Quatre, and the one with black hair is..."
She introduced them to little Heero Yuy, named for his illustrious
father, while the remaining pilots smiled at him gently. Trowa's eyes suddenly
widened, he had been looking at the girl, for she was familiar to him.
"Mariemeia, is that you?"
She turned and smiled at him. "... and that is Uncle Trowa,
ringmaster of a circus. Yes, I am Mariemeia."
The introductions done, little Heero smiled at the "uncles",
Heero's brothers in battle, bound by a similar course and objective, comrades
in a war in which even their home had betrayed them. The group smiled back uncertainly,
for they were still perturbed by the changes the years had wrought in Relena's
son who had been a baby when they last saw him.
Dorothy then interrupted the scene, pointing out in quiet tones
that it was getting late, and that they should hurry if they did not want to
miss their state dinner in which they were the guests of honour. For this dinner
was held on this day annually, in memory of the deaths caused by the war and
in remembrance of one of the colony's greatest sons who gave his life up so
that the world could live and know peace. The others agreed, sensing Relena's
need to be alone with her son and her husband's grave. Then, with solemn mien,
they started towards the entrance of the graveyard, leaving Relena, Lady Anne
and their charges behind.
Relena looked at the grave once more, remembering in her mind's
eyes how Heero looked, then placed her gift in front of the grave before she
stood. A single tear slid down her face, sparkling and glistening, more precious
than any jewel and splashed onto the tombstone. Then as she turned to leave,
she whispered the following words, "Until next time Heero."
She strode away, a serene smile on her face as she held her son
close.
Night had fallen, and the sun was no longer in the sky, the moon
was out, smiling benignly down on the gravestone, illuminating the water droplets
on the tombstone, making them shine like molten silver. The stars were also
out, glittering like jewels in the night sky, endlessly treading the steps of
their age old celestial dance. A cool night breeze blew through the willow grove,
causing the branches to sway and rustle. There was a sighing sound and a soft
whisper which seemed to say the age old words, " I love you." In her
car, Relena's head rose and she smiled.
He is not dead, just asleep.
I have always loved you. Finis
The line looks like this (the one below):
She had a sad, bittersweet expression on her face as she looked at the gravestone
and so, did not notice the male figure approaching from behind. He was dressed
in black priestly raiment, and wore a cross around his neck. He had a long braid
of chestnut brown hair, which gave ample evidence of frequent grooming. He had
a face that brought to mind the word mischief immediately, boyish and roguish
with an infectious and perpetual smile.
Hilde giggled as she said, "True, and he's soooooo much cuter than the
others. In fact, the children in the congregation love him, and they like pulling
his braid."
Her eyes flickered to the last pilot, Trowa, the boy, nay the man, whom even
the lions respected. He was quiet as usual, although his mask of indifference
was not so pronounced. His hair was in its usual impossible position, defying
all the laws of gravity, just like him, the acrobat whom fear could not touch.
These are the words carved onto the Tombstone:
At last able to put down his arms,
At last able to rest without pain,
The True and Weary Knight.
Heero Yuy