-Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Seed

-Orb; Zala Manor-

I recall little of those days leading up to the funeral. Curtains were drawn, lamps were dimmed, and black clothes appeared. Mrs. Weston, my governess, saw to it that everything was handled according to the strictest convention, for that was what mother and father would have wanted. It was confusing having two coffins in the house at the same time and two souls to mourn. I stayed in the manor for two days until my personal seamstress could provide a better mourning suit for me. I didn't want to shame my parent's name. I received thousands of written condolences from people of different rank and position, from tradesman to aristocrats and from PLANT's High council and Officials and it fell to me to return thanks. Although the stationers could sell printed cards that I could have used, I wanted my mother to be proud and so I answered every one of them personally, by hand.

I never spoke of my grief; I never talked of my loss. Once we had been a family of three and then suddenly, reduced to one. I thought I would never recover. I attended to the superficial, to my heavy symbols of mourning and limped through the next few weeks in silence-hobbled, vulnerable and incomplete. My Aunt decided to give me some time and space for my lonesome dilemma and hesitantly decided to return back home in Januarius City, away from the place that illicit tragic memory of death of her beloved sibling.

The PLANT's High Council has sent a proxy for me to run our manor temporarily for eight weeks until they can find some suitable foster family where I would reside until, on their term, I'm of legal age to run a country with proper knowledge, experience and exposure that goes with it. I was thirteen by then, a child no more, yet not an adult. I was torn between the rightful responsibilities of my rank and the characteristic and heart of a child that need considerable time to learn and mend. It was at times like this where they expect greatness to radiate outside of me that was once immaculate and held strongly by my father's ambitions and goals, they expect me to do just the same, to learn of my father's work and be like no one but him. His complete and exact shadow.

For all its entirety and importance of any task, I dared not care, for I was not in the state to cooperate with them or rather him, I was still in my world of despair that I couldn't care less what they do to the manor nor to the servants that the proxy, Lord Walter Jenner, decided to replace, except the Cook, with persons who had been in service to more influential and uncompromising families of high rank, persons who can do well execute their task without being pertinent to issues about me nor the prevalent phenomenon that is happening inside the manor. They couldn't care less of anything at all, as long as they do their duties right.

I haven't have the slightest idea until it dawn to me that I was missing summoning Edward for no reason and I received no reply nor a knock on the door to tell me that he was there ready to serve, instead I received a response from a maid, whom I was unfamiliar to, saying that Edward was relieved from his duties not four days ago and that they had given him a large amount to compensate whatever fees my parents missed. I wanted so badly to say my goodbye's to him, he has been in the family for generations count and he was nothing but kind and a patient old man with principles and good mannered peacefulness that I find something to miss for. He has done quite a lot to me I'm sure and even to the extent as to be part of the subterfuge of my exploits to the world unknown to my parents. I suddenly feel alone in my little corner of the world I called once my home, I began to feel emptiness, vulnerable and easily toss by the wind of despair that I sure wish not to delve in anymore, but my heart and body refused to do so.

For weeks I mourn alone in the vast corner of my bedroom and refused to any admittance. Until the eight weeks have passed and the council has chosen the Fortesque to be my foster family knowing that their willing daughter was betroth to me, it gave them more reason to do so and oblige me to stay with them for a good amount of years until I was ready to be out in the public. They packed up my things and made me wear something befitting for the occasion, I was less thrilled in the prospect of living with them for years, but I could not complain since I was born into a privilege life and with that comes specific obligations and sacrifices I needed to accept without protest. As a result a was asked to leave Zala manor, to the hands of Lord Walter to be taken cared for until my "glorious return", and lived with the Fortesque in their Strauss house at PLANT's in December City.

My last days at Zala manor was spent on packing and filing papers for adoption. Jovial goodbyes and warm kisses were not needed since I have no one of good relations to do such performance. My loss became my sanctuary and until then I wasn't able to smile, laugh nor say a lengthy phrase to any one, words like "yes", "no", "I'm fine", where the only words I could utter, somehow speaking to someone became such a cumbersome task. I dearly denied anyone to be talking to me much less talk to me about my loss; I could no longer harbour feelings of joy and bliss, and whenever I would try to recede to my old self, I was plagued by a sense of guilt and foreboding. Somewhere evil awaited me; somewhere there lurked retribution for my thoughts and deeds. I dared to be part of those sentiments no more.

-P.L.A.N.T; December City; Malcolm Airport-

As the Zala plane landed to Malcolm airport, the concierge handed me my suitcase and carried my luggage's to the waiting area where I would wait for the car, assigned by Mr. Fortesque, to picked me up and drive me to Strauss house.

I was met at the station by the limousine's driver in uniform, who introduced himself by the name James Henwick, a rather bulky young man of his thirties. He graciously opened the door for me as we finally drove out of the airport. For a while we lurched over cobbles between buildings of ugly gray brick but suddenly the world turned green and we were rushing along narrow lanes edged with stone walls and steep hills that climbed up into the sky. The couple was out in the country doing some last sorting of business affairs with their client and would be back by evening, as they were informed of my arrival, but their daughter Rosa Fortesque, my betrothed decided to stay for I was told that she was rather frantic when she heard I was coming, rather eager would be the exact word as the driver shared to me her thoughts while we were on the drive, to which I respond with a "hm".

After half an hour or so we came to a pair of handsome gates with lodge, no less, on the other side. Perched on top of the left-hand gatepost and showing a great deal of thin calf was a girl in white dress with a flood of straw-gold hair, a color that I've missed so much. She waved frantically then somehow scrambled out of sight, though the post was very high for her height, to reappear just as I rattled through the gates. All the way up the drive she kept pace beside us, beaming at me through the car window.

"Oh golly! Madame is really excited to see you," Mr. Henwick said as he look at me from the front mirror.

"What a girl!" I thought.

Few feet from our car were two persons running towards the girl, from what I've guessed must be her governesses. Strauss House was a complete expression of aristocracy and wealth that emanates from each corner of the walls, albeit it was not a sight to be awed anymore since I'm used to being expose to such grandiosity. As the driver opened the door, I stood onto dizzily geometric tiles of the entrance hall. The attendants were properly overwhelmed to see me in the flesh. There was a fleet of servants to fetch my portmanteau, except for the suitcase which I held firmly in my left hand and show me the way into the house, but already Rosa was on the first landing, her long hair hanging over the banister like a ripping sail.

"Come on," she called. "Come."

I couldn't pry myself away since she was holding me, or rather hugging my left arm and dragging me towards the parlor like a snake about to kill it's prey.

"This is unthought-of". I told myself as I never envisioned this girl to be robust, impulsive and quite her person amongst people she have never met before,

"Madame!" her young governess called, "you must not drag his Lordship so rashly!"

I would have thanked her if the girl would have stop in her tracks and would do so as to care for my being as well as my arm. For my part, I was yet physically and mentally weak and her constant dragging would definitely do me no good, but Rosa was determined to have her way. "Come on," she said. "I want to show Athrun everything". Though I was not insulted by her for calling me by my first name, but I was taken aback by her act of being in familiar terms with me and her use of first-name-basis.

I didn't want to be led off into a world I was unfamiliar to, and besides I was tired and I needed to rest, but to voice out my opinion means to cease the ladies joy, since she is quite excited and insisted in showing me around. I was always a gentleman and a gentleman ought never to decline any ladies wish. It seemed to me that, as we ran along the passageway of Strauss House, that I was about to tumble over the precipice called The Unknown.

Rosa flung open one door after another: "This is the salon, this is the gallery, this is the blue room, that's the library." She pointed out to a large closed oak door. "This is the billiard room…" She even showed me her bedroom, "Come on, don't be shy," and I peeked at a vast bed festooned with floral curtains and a flounce quilt, all in shades of blue and pink. I was terrified in case we were caught trespassing in private territories, even if they consider me a son, it would be beyond my usual modesty to prance around rooms that are intimate and private. I was a bit relieved when we went pounding down a narrow staircase and burst into a stone passage which led to the outside.

"So what do you think?" she demanded, walking backwards in front of me so that she could watch my face. I was intrigued by her, she was such a different subject altogether.

"Of what?"

"Of it all!" she said as she stretched her hands to both sides as to indicate its magnitude.

"It's not like something I haven't seen" I said to her in a moderate tone, saying it in a way as to not hint a manner that would offend her in any way. Then to assure her, I added, "The house is just like home". I lied to myself to make her feel assured. Even though I haven't known her for a good deal of time I felt warmth emanating from my bosom.

Maybe it was due to her unreserved happiness that I was placed into a role of comforter as she threw her arms about my neck so that my nose was buried in silky hair fragranced with lemon. Then she flung herself away, grabbed my hand and kissed it, smiled into my face, her blue eyes overflowing with delight, and said: "It is so wonderful that you are here. I'll show you everything. I'll show you all the secret places I know. Come on. Come." And she rushed off with her hair flying and her blue skirts kicked back from her ankles, and I followed at a pace which caused my unaccustomed heart to beat very fast and my spirit to lift higher and higher because already I had fallen head over heels in love with Rosa. She came to me like a banner of hope, someone that would suppress my feelings of loneliness and despair, coupled with a promise of joy that would bring me back to my old self and make me remember who I once was.

-P.L.A.N.T; December City; Strauss House-

At dinner, I felt that I was in a strange world full of outlandish people. The couple, Lord Adam Fortesque and Lady Sarah Fortesque, just arrived from France an hour ago when I was taking my uninterrupted snooze in my new bedroom. They paid a great deal of effort as to give time to buy me assorted chocolate and cookies of high quality, and a closet full of new boy's apparel. When I woke up, the welcome presents were all laid neatly on my study table and the clothes were ironed, hanged and now neatly placed in my wardrobe. Grateful as I am, I never failed to thank them at dinner.

But even then I know I would never feel complete again even in what presence they present to be as consoling, a part of me will never learn to grow. Even in the center of temporarily untainted happiness.

-Rosa-

In all four weeks that Athrun stayed in our house I saw him cry for his parents once, although he was a year older than me, at that moment I can't stop to think that he was like an abandoned child, deprive of filial comfort. A parcel came one day after he'd gone to a leisure walk at the back yard, addressed in a cramp writing which turned out to be from his only living relative, his aunt from Januarius City. The accompanying letter stated that she had come south to clear her dead sister's things so that Athrun, when he returns back to Zala manor, could eventually start afresh. She had found the enclosed items along with her diaries and letters to her son, which the mother had left for Athrun as a memorial.

My parents discussed the matter at breakfast, when he was still up in his bedroom. "We can't interfere," said mother. "Athrun's old enough to bear it, as what I have learned he's already thirteen. He's almost a grown man."

"Just when the boy was doing so well, this has come," said father. "In my view we'd be best putting it away."

"But he must have something of his parents."

"He has his memory of them. That ought to be enough."

All day I gave the parcel a wide berth on my journeys across the hall and I didn't say a word to Athrun about it when I met him at the garden gate because I wanted to preserve his happy mood as long as possible.

He is an intelligent young gentleman, no doubt about it, even in the caress of tragedy he can still angle himself to the light of a joyous prospect, albeit I can still see it in those pleasant emerald green eyes the remembrance of loss he can never vent, every memory is carved in his heart, but even in that despair he still vouch an effort to conceal it and make amends of it through his trying to smile and acting normal around us. He became so accustomed to my presence that he even regard me as a constant company. I couldn't object, I needed to know him more, know his thoughts, and know what he feels. He's mystery astounds me that I can't help myself wanting to be near him and make him confide in me. And thru those weeks, little by little, he granted me that request to be his friend and his stepsister.

By this time our trips back to the house usually took an hour or more. If the weather was hot we flung ourselves down under the cedar and lay with fallen leaves pricking our backs, staring up into complicated branches, or else I allowed him the liberty to lean against the couch and have him read me an anatomy book he got from our library. He delights in studying human anatomy and medicine, he said if personal decisions are not divested on him, he would most certainly would like to help people in the way he can by being a professional doctor. While he reads, I wasn't allowed to peek inside because he said the contents weren't suitable for a little girl, so instead I sat against his bony ribs and listened to the thudding of his heart.

On the afternoon of the package I took his hand and led him to the hall. As soon as he picked up the parcel it was just as I'd feared; he withdrew deep into himself, went upstairs, and closed the door of his room.

He didn't come down to dinner. Afterwards Mother grew very concern and asked one of the maids to go up with a tray. An hour later I decided to fetch it. His door had been left open and his room smelt of cooked meat because of the untouched food. He was sitting on the bed with the contents of the parcel scattered around him. I picked up the tray and put it outside in the passage. Then I closed the door and went to the bed, where I stood with my hands behind my back, waiting to be noticed.

He was without a doubt a very handsome boy, with eyes like emerald stone and navy blue hair that accentuated his fine angle, his aquiline nose and his red lips, a very beautiful pair like that of a lady, but most of all I thought of him more attractive because of his serious, all seeing eyes, and I mourned the light that usually came into his face when he saw me. Eventually I went right up to bed, put my hand on his shoulder, twisted my neck so that my face was almost upside-down under his bent head, and stared into his eyes. Still no response.

"Can I see what was in the parcel?" I asked.

Nothing.

His pain was so palpable that I knew drastic measures had to be taken, so I sat on his lap and placed my arms around his neck. "Show me," I said.

He pointed to a miniature, perhaps four inches by three, in a golden frame, of Leonore Zala. Her little face was adorned with glossy ringlets and her long neck rose from a bare bosom. She wore a high-waisted dress which somehow clung to her chest despite being cut in a wide V across the shoulders. Her head was quarter turned, so that she looked somewhere to the right of the artist, and she was smiling rather shyly, as if she'd prefer not to be in the picture at all. Surprisingly, most of the relics where of aunt Leonore's. I gave the white handkerchief a sniff, because I knew that perfume clung to handkerchiefs, and immediately I can smell the hint of rosewater. There was a tiny jewelry box with flowers embroidered on top, silk-lined and with a mirror inside the lid. Aunt Leonore's engagement ring with its row of three small diamonds was wrapped in a piece of crumpled tissue and there was a folded-up sheet of paper that fit exactly inside the box. On it was written in a frail hand: For Athrun. My darling, darling boy. Never forget your mother, how she loves you.

"She is very kind and thoughtful, your mother," I whispered. "I met her ones and she's a very kind lady to smile so warmly to someone she has not acquainted with yet."

He didn't reply. I clung to his neck and tried to hug him but he was unyielding, spiky as when he first arrived.

Eventually I gave up and left him, but as I reached the door I heard a dreadful tearing noise that came from the back of his throat and before I knew it I was sitting on the bed, his head was buried in my lap, my fingers were in his hair, and the skirt of my cotton frock was hot and damp with his tears. His sobs came from deep within his body and he clawed at my arm and back.

At last he recovered enough to raise his wet face and look into mine. "You'll have to be everything to me now, Rosa."

-Author's Note:

I'm really, really sorry for the very late update, especially to those who are constantly and patiently waiting for this story to be updated. I had a very hectic and tight schedule during the semesters and I couldn't find time to update, rest assured I will never leave any of my fic hanging, no matter how long it is, I promised you I will finish it.

If you have any questions or suggestions for that matter, please do not hesitate to PM me or mail me. Thank you once again!

~HNNKN7~