Chapter 27 – Echoes and Waltzes
"Would you stop fussing, Duo? You're giving me a headache."
Duo turned and gave him a look. A look that said, very clearly, that he didn't care if his fretting was buzzing uncomfortably against Quatre's empathy. He had to bite his lower lip to keep from smiling. "So sorry if I'm bugging you on the biggest day of my life, Q. The door's right there if my ickle emotions are too much for you."
Quatre rolled his eyes, but still gave Duo an unfazed smile. "I don't remember being nearly so bratty when I got married."
"You got bonded on an airship with a healed hole in your side," Duo snarked as he went back to fretting with his hair. Hair that was already braided through with colorful silks and beads and looked beautiful. Duo in general looked beautiful, like something out of the tales he sang about. "Everyone was just happy you were conscious—"
"That's nice."
"—and by the time you got back to Tria Colonies, Cathy cooled off about the whole Big ceremony and you got off completely pressure free! This whole thing is bigger than Heero's majority!"
"I think that was your choice," Quatre reminded him.
"Of course it was!" Duo exclaimed. "If Heero had his way, we would have gotten hitched without anyone here at all. Just him, me, Creepy J, and an officiant. No way in nine hells was I letting him have his way with that!"
"Of course not."
Duo gave him another look through the mirror. "You know, when I asked you to stand with me at the ceremony, I didn't think I was signing up for so much of your sass."
"Yes you did; my 'sass' and I are a packaged deal," Quatre said with a playful laugh. Then, he got up and took Duo's hand to halt the fussing and gave it an encouraging squeeze. He sent just a small tendril of the calm and good humor he was feeling to Duo, his smile widening when he saw him relax a little.
"You know, that's cheating."
Quatre shrugged. "I'll leave therapizing to Sally and this was quicker—do you feel better?"
"Yes, and you know it." Duo gave one last look at his reflection in the mirror before he turned away and gestured at himself. "Seriously though, is it too much?"
Quatre shook his head. "You look wonderful. You might even get a visible reaction out of Heero."
Duo preened a little. "Always a lofty goal."
Quatre hummed in agreement and then assured, "Everything's going to go well today, Duo. You don't need to worry about anything. Or about Heero changing his mind."
"I don't—well shit," Duo started to deny before he stopped, knowing Quatre could read the truth of the matter better than most. "I'm not that obvious am I?"
Quatre shook his head with a kind smile. "Just to me. And probably Heero, if he was here."
Duo chuckled softly under his breath. "I know it's dumb."
"Iria says pre-wedding jitters and worries are normal."
"You and Tro didn't have any."
"Oh yes we did," Quatre shot back, brow raised in challenge at the pout. "There were just other worries and I, as you so eloquently put it, had a hole in my side. We put up a good front."
"Okay, okay, fine!" Duo laughed, raising his arms in surrender. Then, more seriously, "I guess it's just a lot. It's really happening and I keep thinking I'm going to wake up and find out I was dreaming."
Quatre nodded and reached up to absently fix a fold of Duo's robes that got tucked under itself. "It was the same for me, after finding Trowa. I still do."
"Got any wisdom to share with the nervous wreck then?"
Quatre chuckled. "You don't think the ballad we have to hear whenever we visit covers everything?"
"Hey! That ditty is catchy and you know it."
Quatre nodded in acquiescence and stepped back. "Then, I guess my only other advise is to not live in the past. You can't change it and it only keeps you from enjoying the present."
Duo smiled at him knowingly. "Sounds easy enough."
"It isn't," Quatre said instead. "But it's worth it."
Duo hummed and then reached out and tugged Quatre to him, hugging him tight. Quatre returned it and felt accomplished at the sense of contentment and peace he felt replace the anxious energy in his friend. They broke apart at the sound of a throat clearing, both turning to look at Solo who'd entered, a mischievous smile on his face.
"Hope I'm not interrupting anything salacious here."
Quatre rolled his eyes and Duo threw a pillow from the couch at him. "You live for interrupting salacious moments, you jackass, hoping you get invited to join!"
Solo sighed in mock-hurt and bowed at Quatre. "He speaks nothing but lies, Seraphim."
"Are things almost ready?" Quatre asked, ignoring the Elf's flirting. Solo was joining him beside Duo at the ceremony, the pair of them reflected in Wufei and Trowa standing beside Heero. It was an Elvish custom, to have close friends beside you as you wed—Quatre liked it and wished he'd known for his own on the Peacemillion.
Solo nodded as he straightened. "Yes, the Elven priestess is ready and the guests are all seated. The Sive Prince is also ready, and even looks a little nervous. I never thought I'd see the day."
"Nervous like 'oh shit I'm about to get married' or 'oh shit, I need to escape like now'?"
"The former of course!" Solo said as he wrapped and arm around Duo's shoulders. "Honestly, Duo, look at you! There isn't a person in all the Fey who rivals you today."
"Heero loves you," Quatre reminded him, coming to stand on Duo's other side. "And you love him and you're both about to share that with a few hundred of the most important people in your lives and in the Fey. He's allowed a few nerves, just like you."
Duo shot a glare his way. "Thanks a lot for the pep talk, Q."
He beamed in return. "Anytime. Now, are you ready?"
Duo looked at both of them and then he nodded, violet eyes almost ablaze in excitement. "Fuck yes—let's go get me bonded!"
Quatre laughed along with Solo as they followed Duo out the door.
She is here. Again.
She did not think she would be. Not after—after.
She can feel her limbs are not her own. Inorganic, stiff, and not under her control. She is also large, giant even. And cold, like stone.
She knows then that she is not alive, not really. Not as before. She is a tool with a spirit, reborn and yet mostly a shade. It feels disconcerting and she is confused as to why she's here now. Here after the Fey is long forgotten, the races mostly merged into one who only see themselves as Human. In a world where technology and metal now rule supreme. Reborn as a piece of that technology.
And then, she hears him.
"Is this my Gundam, Instructor H?"
Quatre. Her Quatre.
He is here and she feels whole, all at once.
He is young. So much younger than when she met him in their prior life. Just a boy. And yet, that same fire and strength she felt in him then, lost and confused and so very guilty, is still here. And while she is happy and so proud of him for growing strong still, she knows she is an instrument of war, can feel it in her build. She despairs that she only ever seems to give him battles to fight.
His blond hair and blue eyes are so familiar. They echo from before but also remind her of those who came before him. Her family. It makes her want to reach out and hold him close, makes her remember all from her former life. But her limbs do not move. They cannot.
Not without him, she realizes. The irony is not lost on her and she wishes she could laugh. It serves her right, she supposes.
"Yes, my boy," a second voice says. She recognizes him as well, a former sage who now wears the white coat of a scientist. "This is Sandrock."
It feels odd to hear her name again. Quatre walks over and presses his hand to the cold metal plates of her arm, the only part he can reach from the walkway he's standing on. And then, she can feel him. And she thinks he can feel her in turn. He still has his empathy in this life, in this world, but does not understand so he pulls his hand back quickly, as if burned.
But he looks up at her, at her mechanical face, and smiles brighter than the sun. "Hello, my dear Sandrock."
Hello, my dear Quatre, she echoes.
The grand hall was opulently decorated and full of so many people. It felt oppressive.
Trowa spared a brief prayer in thanks that he and Quatre managed to avoid this entirely with their, admittedly, rushed wedding on the airship. He knew Cathy still felt put out by that, but honestly, Trowa much preferred their small, intimate ceremony to this spectacle. Heero probably would have agreed with him before the ceremony as well.
But now, he only had eyes for Duo. Even with his discomfort with crowds, Heero didn't care about anything but him in that moment. Not that Trowa could fault him—he knew what Heero must be feeling all too well. Finally here, marrying the only person he'd ever really loved. Finally unburdened and at ease with Duo's choice to be with him after years of trying to 'protect' the Elf. Finally, both alive after so much that could have killed them both, prepared to be bound together.
Trowa watched as the officiant had Heero and Duo recite vows, both Human and Elvish, and felt his eyes drift over to his husband. Instinctively, like always. Trowa could not help it and put up no fight against the pull.
Quatre was standing confidently beside Duo, resplendent in the formal Quattuon clothing he'd taken to preferring at official functions over the Trian style. The pants were slim around his legs, enhancing the length of them and tucked into intricately embroidered boots at the ankle. The top of them are fashioned as a band and are high, wrapping around his waist tight, a bright vibrant blue to the dark material of the rest of them. The shirt was loose and tucked into the band. It was sleeveless, leaving his shoulders and arms wonderfully bare save for the cloak draped over them. He wore the outfit like he had his whole life.
Quatre was smiling, his happiness unable to be contained under a mask of propriety and Trowa could not help but stare at him.
He eventually turned his eyes to Trowa, catching his emotions like always. The smile melted into something that was just theirs, just Trowa's, private and devoted. He did arch a brow after a moment, no doubt picking up on the effect Quatre was having on Trowa. Effects he was making no attempts at hiding. Quatre was forced to bite back a different smile and tilted his head just slightly back towards their friends. Their friends who were getting married and were in the process of exchanging rings.
Trowa smirked and instead imagined a very specific activity he wanted to do with Quatre still mostly dressed in his formal wear. Quatre went pink, not able to read his mind precisely but the emotions he felt no doubt left an impression. He glared and pointedly turned his face away and back to Duo and Heero. Trowa felt victorious, even when Duo shot his own glare his way before continuing with marrying Heero.
After, once Heero and Duo were pronounced husbands, they both kissed the other so deeply it made some of the folks in the crowd chuckle nervously. As if they were going to start consummating the union right there at the altar. Trowa actually didn't put it past them—neither were shy and Heero enjoyed scandalizing the court. Thought it kept them on their toes.
They did eventually stop, Duo flushed and smiling brightly and Heero a little pink along the ears. Trowa found himself alongside Quatre as they followed their friends out of the grand hall to thunderous applause and cheers. He reached down and took his hand, bringing it up to press a kiss that was part apology and part invitation to the back of Quatre's palm. Quatre looked at him from the corner of his eye as they walked out.
"That wasn't funny."
"I wasn't trying to be," Trowa said honestly. He reveled in pleased blush that dusted Quatre's cheeks again, even as he was trying to keep up a facade of annoyance.
"Trowa!" Quatre let out as the left the hall and Trowa tugged him the opposite direction than the others. Wufei called out to them in utter disgust while Duo laughed and called out not be late to the reception. Heero chimed in that he knew what room they were staying in and could make their night uncomfortable, the threat clear—Trowa had no doubt he could.
Trowa tugged Quatre after him, confident that if Quatre really didn't want to be led, he was more than capable of stopping Trowa. Eventually, he found an empty room enough out of the way and not being used for anything wedding related. After shutting the door behind him, he turned and faced Quatre, who was watching him, the blue of his eyes dark and almost glowing in the dim light of the storage room.
"We don't have time for this."
"You don't know what I've got in mind."
Quatre scoffed but couldn't help the smile he tilted up as Trowa crowded him back against empty shelves. "I think I've got some idea."
"Mm," Trowa hummed before he leaned down and kissed Quatre, the force of it tilting his head even further until it knocked against the wood. It was brief and fierce and when he pulled away, Quatre followed after him, just slightly, just enough to tell Trowa everything he needed to know. "I think we better make sure. I wouldn't want you thinking the worst of me."
Quatre laughed, bright and free, before he tugged Trowa back down, kissing him until everything else around them faded.
They were not late—but it was a near thing.
The fighting has been fierce so far. From the first landing in the desert to the missions since then. The Maguanacs are here, just as loyal as before, and willing to die for peace. Just like her brave Quatre.
But it seems different here, at Corsica.
Different and defining. Like she is holding her breath before freefalling into space, only the stars, zero-g pressure, and Quatre's hands there to guide her movements.
She's never had much a gift for fortune casting, but she feels like something is about to happen.
Something world-changing.
Bullets and beam cannons fly overhead as the mobile suits called Aries zoom and try and surround them, her and Quatre. And then, they are elsewhere and Sandrock sees another like her, another Gundam, huge and red and out of ammunition. Quatre does not know who this is, wonders if their enemy has developed a new model just like Instructor H and the rebels did. As soon as he thinks this however, eh discards it—it doesn't feel true, he says, and then, he is saving the other just the same.
After, they fight each other, her Quatre acting on instinct to the initial attack from the other. Sandrock feels she knows who this is, this other monster of war like herself. And, so does Quatre; some small part of him. And so he stops.
When he exits Sandrock's safety, exits and pleads for the other to see that they shouldn't fight one another, she sees another boy, another boy she knows. She is surprised the buttons all along her control panel do not light up from laughter.
Fate is funny, she decides as she watches her Quatre meet Trowa Barton again for the first time.
Fate can also be kind at times. She feels this in her bones, the bolts and hydraulics, when later, after Trowa has left, Quatre curls up in her cockpit. He is making small fixes to mask him talking with her so he does not get odd looks from his Maguanacs, and then, he tells her how Trowa spied him playing the violin and joined in. And of how beautiful the duet was and how much he feels, in its aftermath.
A boy, a violin, and love. It's an empty desert in lieu of a barren field, but the story is similar enough. Even if the love is too early and small to become anything more with the war consuming them both, she can feel the seeds of it in Quatre's words.
She wonders if Heavyarms is here as well, lying silent and still in the red machine, just like her, and if she's laughing at their two charges again. Sandrock hopes she is.
"I'm married!" Duo cried out, all but collapsing into a chair in between Quatre and Wufei. Quatre smiled and Wufei looked annoyed, so Duo draped a hug around Wufei's shoulders instead of Quatre. Quatre was already happy and Wufei needed to be happier. More happy. Whatever it was. "I'm married and you're all here and none of us died against all those baddies and that's fucking awesome!"
"Yes, we're all very happy for you," Wufei said, his voice all prickly. "Now get off me!"
"I didn't think Elves could get drunk," Quatre said, because Quatre still didn't know a lot of Fey stuff.
"Oh, they can," Wufei griped, shoving Duo off. He pouted at him until Quatre opened his arms and Duo decided Quatre was a better anyways. "Just not on most Human liquors. I'm guessing someone provided libations for the Elves. My money's on Solo."
"Nope nope nope!" Duo sing-songed. "Noin brought fairywine! Isn't she just the best?"
"There you go."
Ok, so, maybe he was a little drunk. Fairywine always hit him harder than anything Human-brewed, and he hadn't had anything non-Human brewed in a while. Still, he wasn't that bad; he snuggled Quatre more and giggled at the vibrations he could feel from him laughing.
"You doing all right, Quatre?" Heero! Duo looked up and smiled at him, at his husband. His handsome, sexy, kinda short husband. Maybe he was just tall—Elves got tall.
"Hey there 'Ro!"
"Yes, I'm fine—mind helping me out with the octopus problem I seem to have acquired though?"
Heero grunted and pulled Duo into his arms. His face was so soft and open and Duo wanted to kiss him. He must have because Heero let out a surprised 'oof' noise into the kiss. Then they were sitting, him mostly in Heero's lap. Quatre's cuddles were nice, but Heero's were the best.
"You look like you're enjoying yourself," Trowa said, sitting down on Quatre's other side. He was definitely teasing him.
"Yeah, well, at least I waited until the reception to 'enjoy' myself," Duo shot back with a grin. "Instead of eye-fucking my husband at someone else's wedding."
"Duo!"
"Sorry Q, but them's the facts."
"As if you are any paragon of restraint," Wufei grumbled. "At least they had the good grace to sneak off somewhere unseen. You both couldn't even wait until you were out of eyesight before crawling all over one another in a hallway."
Heero shrugged and Duo turned to give his husband a grin. "Yeah, that was fun. Solo kept yelling about his eyes though."
"I don't recall seeing you again until the reception either, Wufei," Heero said, definitely knowing somethin'. Duo loved it when he got all calculating-y. "And if Cathy is to be believed, it's because you and Sally decided to have sex in the gardens."
Wufei, to his credit, only went a little red and took a sip of his drink with the kind of calm control Duo could never ever copy. All stiff and small movements—blah, sounded no fun. "I have no idea what Cathy could have witnessed, but it certainly was not Sally and I."
"Hn."
"A garden is much less discreet than a hallway—or a storage closet."
"I don't know, Heero. He's wearing white and there's no grass stains."
"And you'd know that there'd be grass stains how exactly, Quatre?"
Quatre paused before he shrugged and shared one of those soppy looks with Trowa, both of them clearly remembering a fond memory. "There's a lot of gardens on the manor grounds."
"I did not need to know that!"
"Sorry Wufei."
Duo grinned and wrapped his arms around Heero's waist, snuggling and enjoying the sound of his friends, his family, arguing and being happy.
It seems wrong, to rejoice in watching a friendship bloom again in the wake of such sorrow.
Wing. Heero. Both gone—her Quatre nearly collapsed at the weight and emotions the self-destruct inspired.
Sometimes, Fate is cruel.
Her Quatre and the once-Elf called Duo bond quickly, as they did before, both sharper in some cases and softer in others. She knows her Quatre is important in this world, different than he was in hers, and it is not hidden from him. He is Quatre Raberba Winner, heir to one of the wealthiest empires in the earth sphere and the other, Duo Maxwell, his very name cobbled together from unforgiving slums and lost family. And yet, her Quatre welcomes Duo, someone who comes from nothing in this world, as if equals. And means it.
She is so proud of him, just as before.
She sees when Duo sees him as more than the 'Winner heir'. Sees him as not just a comrade with the same goals for their Colonies and peace. But sees him as a friend—her Quatre's happiness at the bloom of their friendship, something he has only ever had with the Maguanacs, unfolds.
It is a measure of comfort to her, standing alongside Deathscythe in the hangar, as a sandstorm rages all around them and their fight becomes harder to weather.
"Did you know that Cathy could see us in the gardens?"
Sally chuckled and needed to stifle the sound of it in her husband's jacket. They were supposed to be dancing to a slow, romantic number. Snorting in laughter at her husband's despairing, affronted question would not do. Wufei stiffened under her hold as he understood her laughter to be an answer in and of itself.
"Onna!"
"What?" Sally asked, as innocently as she could manage when was able to look at his reddening face without snorting. "Trowa and Quatre had already snuck off, and so did the newlyweds. I thought it was just what everyone was doing."
"I cannot believe you."
"Zechs and Noin certainly didn't waste any time—I think they snuck off to a washroom."
"You said it was secluded!"
"Even Sylvia managed to convince Relena to disappear for a rendezvous."
"Yuy was insufferable and—what? Princess Relena and Sylvia Noventa?"
Sally smiled at the dumbfounded, but interested, look on her husband's face and smiled with a coy nod. "Oh yes, for nearly six moons now."
"What—how did that—?"
"Apparently," Sally began quietly, indulging her husband's desire for gossip. He'd never admit liking it, but it was the scholar in him—he always needed to know everything. "They bonded over their mutual annoyance in Heero getting his head out of his ass and marrying before them. I guess, at one point, they each held a small torch for him."
"Sanq I knew," Wufei said, voice still sounding a little bewildered. "It's half the reason Merquise looks ready to punch Heero half of the time. But Noventa?"
Sally hummed out a yes. "I guess it was some time ago. Heero insulted her grandfather gravely and he took the time to make amends with him and his family, Sylvia included. It left an impression."
"Huh."
"Yes, well, apparently between their complaining at how Heero was unfairly rewarded for breaking so many hearts, his new husband's included, they became friends," Sally said as she turned them a little so Wufei could see the pair sitting close to one another at a nearby table. "And from there, they found something more."
Wufei made the same comprehending noise under his breath again before he turned and spared a small smile for her. "The Elven Nations are going to start complaining if much more of their royalty start bonding with shorter-lived Humans."
Any embarrassment over the garden tryst forgotten, she smiled and continued to dance with her husband until the song changed over more than once.
They are going to lose. She is going to lose.
And if she loses, her Quatre will die.
There are too many for just the pair of them. For her Quatre and Duo. For her and Deathscythe. Too many enemies and they are fighting a losing battle here at the space airfield. They knew it would be, she knows this, but she thinks perhaps her Quatre was not as honest about them both getting to space with his friend, with her, as he should have been.
He did not learn the correct lesson from the other—from Heero Yuy, who is still alive somehow.
She can see him and Trowa Barton through the vid-screen, and a fifth is here helping them, supporting them, someone who she knows through memory. Her Quatre has not met him personally outside of now and through a brief admonition after the failed New Edwards mission. Not yet in this lifetime, but she remembers Chang Wufei and is not surprised he is here, saving her Quatre and Duo even though he does know them yet either.
All five of them returned to this world. Still fighting terrible battles for a world that does not value their worth as much as they should. This world even less than the Fey.
She watches these boys and her former sisters fighting across the world and here on the airfield. And then, she hears her Quatre tell the others to go to space and he will cover for them. He means to die for them.
No, not the right lesson at all, even if it is a brave one.
She refuses to do nothing.
Somehow, she finds the will, the power, to take action—she opens the cockpit door and undoes the automatic straps to the harness belting her Quatre into his seat. He is hurt and bleeding, but he knows what she is asking him to do, begging him to do. He can feel her desperation, just like he felt her joy when they first met.
He does, he gets out and he gets safe. He watches as she walks toward the remaining enemy and away from him. As she makes him safe. She can hear him thank her in her soul.
Before she self-destructs, she hopes her Quatre will find what he and the others are looking for in space.
Then, quiet.
Noin laughed as she watched Duo try to convince Heero to dance in between him and Solo, the latter of whom looked moments away from bolting at the murderous look the Siven prince sent his way. Maybe she shouldn't have brought the fairywine.
"You should have left the fairywine on the ship," Zechs said, echoing her thoughts. She smirked and reached over to grab his hand. His smile was barely there, but she knew him well enough to spot it. "Look at the mess it's causing."
"Oh, they're fine," Noin waved off. She leaned in close, into Zechs' space and nodded her chin to where Relena and Sylvia were sitting with Cathy and a few others. Both red-cheeked and happy, his sister's hand resting gently in Sylvia's on her thigh under the table. "It's not a wedding if you don't have a little messiness. Or blossoming romance."
Zechs didn't say anything as his eyes drank in the sight of his sister happy and in love. "It seems Relena and I have more in common than I thought."
Noin smiled at him and pressed a kiss to the side of his face. "I think it extends beyond your excellent taste in women."
"Maybe." They lapsed into a comfortable silence as noise boomed around them, her leg brushing his and his arm thrown around her shoulders as they watched.
It was starting to get late and many of the older courtiers departed already. Noin could see some of their men drinking with Rashid, Auda and a blonde woman she guessed was one of Quatre's twin sisters while others danced. She spotted Otto muster up the courage to go and ask one of Mariam's girls to dance and cheered when she said yes. She smiled when she heard Sally let out a loud laugh as she teased a flustered looking Wufei. Duo had given up trying to make Heero dance with Solo and was draped over his new husband instead.
Heero didn't look like he minded, one hand wrapped is Duo's braid possessively.
Her eyes kept scanning until they landed on part of the reason they were all gathered here today.
She never doubted that eventually Heero would get his head out of his ass about Duo, had said as much to Relena when she'd nursed a bruised ego over his rejection, but she also thought it would take a lot longer than a few summers. She knew, without a doubt, that was due, in part, to Quatre Winner. Their journey with him changed them both and allowed for past hurts to heal and for fears to be conquered much sooner had it not been for him.
Noin smiled as Quatre laughed at something Trowa whispered to him as they danced. His hair was mussed from one of the many times he'd been dragged out to dance with Duo and looked brighter under the candlelight in the hall. Trowa managed to resist Duo easier, so he wasn't quite as unkempt, but his face was still just as flushed and besotted. They looked happy and in love.
It was a good look. She turned and met Zechs' gaze, noting how his face was not so dissimilar.
Yes, not a bad look at all.
When she wakes, the first person she sees is Sally Po. The next is Rashid.
She knows then her Quatre is not there—she is on Earth still and he went to space. She decides more rest would not be begrudged. She still feels broken and in pieces and needs rest, even as a machine.
Still, she is happy to have survived. It means she can still help her Quatre fight, hopefully.
When she wakes next, her Quatre is there and she would weep if she could. He is alive and here and leads her and the Maguanacs into a battle to defend a peaceful country standing tall against tyranny. She is unsurprised that this is her first battle back with him, something noble and heartbreaking when they lose, a princess surrendering for the safety of her people.
After, she is too happy to have her Quatre back to see it. But, piece by piece, it all unfolds. What happened in space.
His smiles are brittle and he carries a guilt she remembers all too well. He is dimmed and desolate and one night, in a carrier heading towards space, curled up in her cockpit and sobbing, she learns why.
Space was not kind to him. Space killed his father. Space betrayed him, again. And in his grief, he took action that resulted in him harming someone he loves. Someone he does not know if he'll ever find, someone he cries he does not deserve to.
He is in such pain and her heart breaks for him.
It is different than before. Before, when she met him like this, he knew he had, at least, not killed Trowa. He was older than he is now and knew he was alive and then had her to confirm this knowledge. There was guilt, but it was tempered with the hope of absolution once he found Trowa.
He does not know this now. Now, he knows only pain and suffering and that he is the cause of it all.
Others are more convinced than he is, convinced that Trowa Barton is not dead after he threw himself between Quatre and his madness.
He is too young and he is convinced he is damned for his sins. She cannot bear it.
"Heero forgave me and I don't know why. How he even could. I can't—I can't ever make this right, Sandrock, I can't."
Yes, yes you can, dear Quatre. You will, you have always been stronger than you believe.
"I didn't—I think I—and now he's—"
He cannot finish any of these thoughts, but she knows them just the same. She focuses all she is and tries to wrap him in her thoughts, in her belief in him. He calms down some, the hysterics quieting and eventually dropping off entirely as he falls asleep there. Hunched and drawn while he sleeps and slips into nightmares that set him off once more.
She sings to him through his empathy until he calms again. The lights on her control panel are lit low and she discovers she is able to modulate them into a semblance of a lullaby. She promises him it will be all right until they reach their destination, his home colony, and a loud beeping jolts him awake.
She hopes she is not mistaken.
"Still not regretting your choice in partner, are you Yuy?"
Heero turned and looked over at Wufei, who collapsed into the seat next to him. Trowa was already sitting on his opposite side, languid and relaxed as he sipped whatever non-Elven liquor his staff provided. He allowed a small smirk at Wufei's flushed face as he downed one of the glasses of water in front of him—Sally must have taken pity on him after several fast songs.
"No," he said simply, taking a sip of his own water. He decided prior to the ceremony to not drink anything and he was grateful for that decision now. His eyes drifted to where Duo was holding court on the dancefloor. "Should I be?"
Trowa chuckled a little as Wufei scowled over at him. "I suppose you are more aware than most as to what a hellion your husband can be."
"I don't know if trying to get your wife to dance with him constitutes hellion-behavior," Trowa quipped and Heero hid his smirk behind his glass as Wufei swung to glare at the other.
"Those lewd movements are not dancing and you wouldn't be saying that if it was Quatre."
Trowa pointed out to the floor where Quatre was indeed already dancing with Duo, Sally, and several others. Wufei glared harder before he snatched a glass of his own cava. "I do not know why I expected more rational behavior from you, your Highness, once the curses were lifted."
Trowa chuckled again and shrugged. "Jealousy does not become you, Wufei."
"I am not jealous!"
"If you say so."
Heero let the pair of them bicker and his eyes drifted back to Duo. His husband—bonded to him and he to Duo until death eventually claimed them both. He looked happy and beautiful, braid nearly half undone from his drunken dancing and eyes bright when they catch him watching. Duo grinned even wider at him before he is pulled into another round of drinks by someone from Solo's crew.
Heero was worried for a moment until Quatre caught his eye and made his way over momentarily from the crowd. Ever since their battle against Epyon, since he linked with all of them at once, Quatre was more in tune with the five of them, no matter their shields and blocking. It helped more than it hurt, especially now when he was able to pick up on Heero's barely-there worry without effort. He took Trowa's outstretched hand and let him pull him to stand alongside his seat. They shared a look before Quatre gave him a confident smile.
"What's wrong, Heero?" Quatre asked. Heero didn't verbally answer, but he did point to where Duo was proclaiming he could out drink anyone form Solo's crew. Quatre bit at his bottom lip to keep from laughing. "Don't worry, Heero—I'll keep an eye on him."
"You have a tall order ahead of you, Quat," Trowa commented.
"I'm sure I'll manage." He leaned down to press a kiss to Trowa's cheek before making his way over to Duo again. Wufei watched him with a dubious eye.
"Unless he's planning on drinking the fairywine before Maxwell, I'm not sure he's going to have much luck."
"I don't know," Trowa said, his eyes never leaving Quatre. "He can be pretty persuasive."
Heero chuckled lowly, knowing that fact only too well. He watched as Quatre deftly took one of the glasses of liquor out of Duo's hands and replaced it with water before tugging him away from Solo and the rest. Duo got a funny look on his face when he took a sip and pouted at Quatre whose only response was to whisper something in Duo's ear. Heero smirked as he watched his husband go red before he started giggling. He drank more of the water.
"See? Persuasive." Trowa's face was smug and Wufei looked even more annoyed.
"I reiterate," he said, taking a deep drink of his cava. "Still no regrets, Yuy?"
Heero met Duo's eyes again, at the ridiculous thumbs up he sent his way before taking more water from Quatre and loudly proclaiming to his fellow Elves he couldn't drink anymore or he'd ruin his wedding night. He smiled. "Not one."
They are all together again. Her sisters and their pilots. Though they cannot speak, she believes they can sense each other just the same.
Wing too, even with her original body abandoned on Earth. Now, she is inhabiting a new suit called 'Wing ZERO'. This is amusing, though she is sure Wing does not find it so. She is not sure why Heero is using this suit until she hears him comment to Duo it is because he is accustomed to a similar system installed in a different Gundam built by their enemy—Epyon.
Zero and Epyon.
Reborn in wholly different ways into the world.
She wonders if they knew of this path. If that is why Zero lent herself to Quatre and the others when she had not for her and her sisters. And if that is why Epyon fought as fiercely as she did. She supposes she will never know for sure—what she does know is the way her Quatre's eyes go haunted when he looks at Wing Zero.
Trowa Barton is alive. At first, he did not remember, his injuries from her Quatre's actions too great. He does now and her Quatre avoids him. She watches Trowa Barton watch her Quatre, weighing his choices, forgiveness perhaps not as freely given as it once was. She thinks he wants to but does not know how—all of them have had harder paths this lifetime.
War does not wait for young men and their hearts—they fight together, but it is not clean. Her Quatre laments after, winded and exhausted, that they are used to fighting alone and cannot conceive another way. He knows they'll lose if they cannot work as a unit but does not know how to voice this. Before Zero, before Trowa, he would have—but his confidence in himself is shattered.
It is Heero who ultimately gives him the path towards self-forgiveness. The ZERO system.
When her Quatre uses it, desperate and half-convinced it is a mistake, it feels strange. She is still herself, but she feels more just the same. She recalls her own trial and walks this one with her Quatre. And when he is victorious and they win, a part of his broken heart mends itself.
Later, he decides to not use the system, surer of himself. But he still holds onto the pain from his mistakes. And he still avoids Trowa Barton. It is not until after a battle with their enemy, in the suit called Epyon, nearly kills Quatre in an effort to cripple them that things change.
Sandrock is stored beside Heavyarms and the technicians aboard their ship have finished repairs to them both. She can sense what they all can—they are approaching the end of this conflict, for better or worse. Her Quatre is to in the habit of doing some repairs himself, even when scolded not to, and he is in the cockpit, adjusting her cooling systems, when his name is called.
He turns and sees Trowa—she can feel the trepidation in his movements, but he does not falter. He joins the other, both already in their flight suits should the end begin. Neither speak at first; her Quatre desperately wants to, now that he's here, but it was not him who started this conversation so he waits for Trowa.
Trowa, while skilled at words, is not good at the truth. She is unsurprised when, instead, he leans forward and brushes a soft, chaste kiss to her Quatre's lips. He shudders and releases, letting Trowa catch him in return.
Eventually, once both are calmer, they do talk. There is forgiveness and acceptance and hope. They do not make any promises, but the seeds start to grow between them at that moment, in the mobile suit hangar of a spaceship. Fragile and completely unsure of the future but blossoming still.
She is so happy, she cannot contain it. A few buttons and flashes go off on her control panel and Trowa turns to look at her.
"Did the technicians do something to your Gundam? That sounds like glitching."
Her Quatre looks at her, really looks at her, and she feels him again, and he her. Slowly, considering his words, he shakes his head. "No—Sandrock does that sometimes. It's not a glitch."
Trowa pauses, looking dubious. "Is it safe?"
Her Quatre's eyes drift up to her mechanical ones and he nods, the smile on his face soft and wondering. And, perhaps, reminiscent, "Always."
He turns and offers that smile to Trowa before leading him away and out of the hangar, Trowa following without hesitancy.
-Sentimental old desert rat-
Sandrock is not sure if she hears or imagines Heavyarms' words, but she cannot deny them, nonetheless.
It was late.
Nix sat and listened as the celebrations were winding down. He was perched on the balcony of Miss Cathy's room, having abandoned the wedding celebrations some time ago. There was only so much entertainment he could derive from a tradition built for two-legged races and he'd had his full. Now, the din was fading and while a few stragglers still enjoyed the merriment, the ones he held dear were otherwise occupied. Even Miss Cathy; he came to her room because he could see the attraction between her and the big one, Auda, and guessed he'd find peace here for the night.
And he found it—above him, the moon was bright and full, hanging low in the sky.
He wondered if any of the Ladies could still witness this, the peace they'd help bring about then, and now. The union of two of their Chosen like the final piece in a tapestry eons in the making. He knew the answer, but part of him hoped anyway. They would have enjoyed the sight.
When he accepted his Task from Lady Sandrock, he had no way of knowing what it would become. It was an honor, to be chosen out of all the young Areenjans awaiting their Task, but he could not know what it would come to mean to him. It was hard to explain and he often couldn't when he spotted some of his brethren in Quattuon and they asked why he was still living among the two-legs. There were not words for the bond and affection born from his Task and how staying with his Quatre was the only path before him now.
It would change—Areenjans were longer lived than most in the Fey. He knew his time with those he'd forged a bond with was limited. Perhaps that was also why he stayed. Soon, there would only be memories and he wished to have as many as possible for the ages to come.
Nix stretched, yawned, and hopped off the railing. It was too happy a day for gloomy musings and he was surprisingly tired. He wandered away from the balcony and hopped onto the bed, claiming one of the pillows as his own. He turned once, twice, and curled up, tucking his nose under his tail, giving thanks that he'd been lucky enough to be given a Task that still gave him purpose each day and peace at night.
He was luckier than most, he thought, as he drifted off to sleep.
The war ends, but not without cost.
They almost lose Heero. Later, they almost lose her Quatre too. She recalls the helplessness at the sight of him bleeding, stabbed again, by Dorothy Catalonia, being helped into the cockpit by Trowa because the war beat on.
He is pale when, after, they are invited to MO-II with all other survivors. He cannot exit the cockpit unassisted and she watches as he is wheeled away while the other four are left, unsure what to do in this new world. They all take turns watching over her Quatre though, as he heals from a wound that almost claimed him before. Even the one who hurt him—Sandrock sees echoes of the monster she knew, who massacred her blood, but mostly, she sees what Dorothy might have been and is happier for it.
It breaks her heart, but they do not stay together. They are young and in her Quatre's case, there are already shoes to fill. She watches as he and Trowa Barton part ways and she is stored away and can only hope all their paths will cross again.
They do, but not in the way she hoped. Sandrock accepted the decision that weapons such as she were not needed in a world attempting pacifism, even it meant another death, but she is still joyous when she see him looking down at her on the carrier. Wing is jettisoned into space but her Quatre climbs into her again, Heavyarms and Deathscythe with her just as Trowa and Duo are with her Quatre, and they fight.
She is thankful it is not a prolonged battle. She is also thankful to see Nataku there too, all five of their young men survived in the end.
Gundams are still not needed in this world, but instead of a cold carrier and the sun, it is a hill and her Quatre with her. Nataku is not with them, and Wing has already been destroyed, but Heavyarms and Deathscythe are with her—she could not ask for more.
Before, her Quatre breaks off a piece of her chest plate. Something small, no bigger than his hand, but her heart soars that he will keep some part of her with him. Trowa and Duo look at him fondly, but follow his example. Then, it is over.
…but, not. The piece of her he keeps, it keeps her with him as well.
The Fey may be gone from this world the way she knew, but its magic still exists in small ways.
…
…
…
When she next wakes, she feels like she did before in the Fey. A hovering spirit tied to the world. But this time, it brings her joy as opposed to a burden she had to bear.
The metal her Quatre saved has been repurposed and now she rests above his heart, fashioned into a pendant and chain. She almost laughs at the familiar waltz history slips into, wondering if she looks copper in certain light.
He wears her near constantly, but she only awakes occasionally. She can feel whatever power holds her here is not infinite, it will fade over time, and her as well. Still, even limiting herself, she watches her Quatre assume control over his father's role and his inheritance, even if somewhat reluctantly. She watches him use is influence for betterment of this new world, often at odds with others. She watches him struggle and grow out of the boy and into a young man, his face becoming more recognizable as more time passes.
She also rejoices that he is not alone. He has allies in most of his sisters. Relena Peacecraft né Dorlain and her Quatre work together on a joint Earth Sphere resource proposal and become genuine friends in the process. Rashid does not leave him and Quatre promotes him within his company and replaces those on his Board in a move that reminds her of how ruthless he once was, and likely still is, at chess. Dorothy Catalonia, of all people, becomes his friend and their barbed conversations delight her Quatre at the challenge they present him.
It takes longer for the others to come back. Her Quatre understands this, and is guilty of it himself, but they do eventually. Not quite as world-weary, more settled in their skins and who they can be outside of war. She only catches glimpses of Heero and Duo, or Wufei and Sally Po, but they fill her with happiness just the same.
When Trowa Barton reenters her Quatre's life though, she cannot help but watch a little bit more, risk being spent a little bit more.
They are no longer boys, but the seeds of what they'd found between them then are still there, still blooming, as if they only went dormant until the time was right to grow. Her Quatre is taller in this life without the issue of poverty impacting his growth, but still not quite as tall as Trowa Barton has grown to be—they still fit like they are meant to. She can feel the beat of her Quatre's heart when they kiss for the first time again, can feel the way his pulse goes faster the first time it progresses further, and can feel the way his happiness spills over when he tells his Trowa he loves him for the first time.
She does not intrude often after that, wanting to give her Quatre privacy, even if he can no longer feel her as he did before, but when she hears her name one night, she cannot help it.
"Is that Sandrock?"
It is morning and her Quatre is sitting up in bed, reading something for the coming day, mostly bare save for a sheet and the pendant to her sight. Trowa is reclining next to him, languid and pointing at the spot on her Quatre's chest where she rests.
"Mm, what was that Trowa?" her Quatre asks, looking apologetic as he glances up from his papers. He sets them aside and turns to Trowa, giving him undivided attention. The small act makes Trowa smile before he reaches and runs his fingers across her metal.
"Is this Sandrock?"
"Oh, yes," her Quatre says softly, reverently. "I can keep her close this way."
"Her?"
Her Quatre sputters for a moment, embarrassed and caught out, but recovers with a haughty tease. "Like you didn't call Heavyarms a pronoun."
Trowa smiles and lets out a snort of laughter. "I guess I did, sometimes."
Quatre let out a victorious huff. "And?"
"Yes, when I did, I guess it was mostly 'her' too."
Her Quatre raises his brow and then laughs when Trowa flicks him and tackles him, kissing the smug look off his face.
She fades again and when she resurfaces, it is a different day, a different year, and she notices they each are wearing bands on their ring fingers. They are wearing formal dress, but their jackets are discarded and she believes she has caught them on their wedding night, dancing together in the quiet of the room. They are happy and in love and she is grateful they were able to find this joy twice.
"Do you ever think that this was all meant to happen?" Trowa asks into the quiet, his hand gripping at the center of her Quatre's back. Her Quatre stares at Trowa for a moment and then chuckles softly under his breath. Trowa's eyes go confused and Sandrock does not blame him. "What's so funny about that?"
"I—it's not funny," her Quatre says, unhelpfully.
Then, as if he has always known, his eyes pull to where her spirit is hovering and he smiles, soft and private as one does for a long-lost friend.
She feels as if she smiles back, even if she no longer has anything that can do that.
He finishes, "I've asked that exact question before, is all."
Her Quatre's eyes never leave her, even as Trowa pulls back and looks down at him. "Oh? Did you get an answer?"
"I did." Her Quatre turns and meets his Trowa's eyes. "They told me they didn't believe in things being pre-determined, and instead it was the choices you made that had an impact, for good or bad. And sometimes both."
"And is that what you think?"
Her Quatre nodded, his hands cupping the back of his Trowa's neck to bring their lips together. "And the only thing fated is that I'd fall for you—and there isn't a world where I wouldn't."
Sandrock flittered in joy and let them be, knowing as much as her Quatre knew, that no, as it turns out, there wasn't a world indeed.
*Finis*
AND THAT'S IT. Over a decade in the making, and we have our conclusion. I am honestly a little emotional.
When I first set out to write this story, I was also reading a new trilogy of a favorite fantasy series that seamlessly melded the fantasy canon with a series of 'real world' stories, which blew my mind. And then, rewatching GW for the hundredth time, I had an idea for how to end this story. And it never left me, even when I left this tale for others. Rewatching GW again during the pandemic, I was inspired to put pen to paper the ending I envisioned and I am surprisingly happy with the results.
Thank you readers, new and old, lurker and non-lurker alike. I hope you enjoyed this story of mine - As Nix put it, I am grateful for the path, and for each of you, for walking it with me.