Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: An anon commented, Nina, that the fandom might be in a comma. That crack me up a bit.
III.
While Athrun Zala sailed through gloomy seas, Jibril's army tried to trample Martius' walls.
It proved to be impregnable.
So far.
With a bit of hope shining on their side, Plants take advantage where it could as much as it could. The Red Knights most of all, led by Heine Westenfluss and Martius' Lord Joule, secure what might possibly be their last hope to the best of their abilities.
…oOo…
Do all things with kindness, however small. It makes all the difference, my love.
That had been Lenore Zala's parting words to her son.
There had never been a warmer summer in the North like this, her people said. It was a good omen they said. Ezalia sat beside her, reading a letter from her husband.
"What is it Lenore?" Ezalia asked without looking up. "What clouds your mind?"
It took her long to reply but as she closed her eyes, the words slithered bravely. "How dare we? We should not have another country fighting our battles."
"Would you rather Plants burn to the ground?" Ezalia's gaze lacked her fire, but it held pride and Lenore reminded herself that she wasn't always a Joule. She was once a Zala, with their proud backs and regality and ancient lineage.
"I would rather not burden someone who does not care for war."
…oOo…
When the ship from Plants made port in Carpentaria Harbor – Orb's Northernmost territory, home to dauntingly massive warships — a man who bare the title Count of Endymion welcomed the party. Behind him, people gawk at the foreigners.
Athrun was only so relieved to have set foot on land after so long in water. His people were not for the sea, he surmised sullenly. In passing, he noted the heat and welcomed the feeling reluctantly, remembering his home December and her always present chill.
His party yet again boarded another ship, smaller and infinitely more elegant, and on they go to Mwu La Flaga's castle.
They were welcomed with a festivity come nightfall.
That very night, he met Orb's Prince.
…oOo…
Kira Ulen Athha, Athrun soon learn, was a good man with an overprotective streak. He supposed all brothers do. The slightly menacing brotherly-protectiveness aside, Prince Kira was convivial and very kind. He offered gentle condolences, for people not even his own.
Cagalli Yula Athha was not there though.
Nor was the King.
Athrun didn't know why he felt relieved.
…oOo…
The first time he ever saw her, in the hallways of Endymion Castle, she was sitting straight and regal, with mischief curved on her pink lips. Wrapped in rose gold and long locks dappled with tiny magnolias. A diamond diadem, bright and ageless, lie comfortably on top of her half-unraveled honey hair.
She's a golden girl, he thought, with her golden eyes and her golden smile.
He wondered how she looks now, almost a decade older, tracing the name on the frame of a thirteen-year old Crown Princess' portrait.
…oOo…
Orb was a beautiful archipelago. Though small compared to his homeland, it thrived in all the ways Plants did not.
Untouched by war and conflict. Safe from the clutches of foreign conquerors. Its people fed and blissful. Wealthy and healthy. Teeming with life.
Peace.
It was the most beautiful thing.
…oOo…
When he arrived at the heart of Orb, the capital Heliopolis, it was to a curiously cautious but nonetheless warm natives. They followed his carriage from the piazza in a solemn parade as it carried him to his future.
Athrun grew up to luxury and excessive wealth. But for the life of him, he couldn't stop himself from marveling the home of the monarchs.
How vast it was and how grand its architecture, with its parallel towers soaring and the banners on its roofs piercing the sky. The heavy metal gates opened to Athrun's procession, and at the grounds, the royals wait.
…oOo…
The first time he laid eyes on his promised bride in the flesh, she was anything but that golden girl propped reverently in Count La Flaga's hallway.
She had gold eyes.
She didn't have such golden smile.
