by zapenstap
Heero and Relena arrived in Taravren late that same night and were welcomed into the palace by the staff, dressed completely in black for the somber occassion. Nevertheless, servants took their bags with weary smiles and guided them to rooms brightly and expensively furnished in expectation of their arrival.
"Things certainly are in a rush here," Relena murmured, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and smoothing her skirt.
They set down their things and took the opportunity to walk about the rooms in some bemused appreciation, admiring the plush carpet that sunk beneath their feet and the gorgeous draperies that hung over the windows. Relena opened a double panel door to the bedroom and beckoned Heero over with one hand. He came, striding across the room, and peered over her shoulder at a master bedroom with a complete vanity, full closets, bathroom and one enormous bed.
It came to him that they were alone here. It wasn't Relena's apartments, or his dark little room, or the Cinq Castle. They didn't have to be so careful here. They had to be careful in Cinq, very careful, so careful it drove him nuts, and her too. It wasn't a secret that they were dating, but what came of that had to be kept vague at the very least. She was a Representative for the Earth after all, and he somewhat of a heroic figure to people who knew enough about what actually happened in the war to notice, but their being in love wasn't enough to warrant an openly serious relationship. Their friends knew. It was impossible to keep that sort of thing a secret from everybody, and Heero knew Relena had more or less conveyed the status of their relationship to her brother and Noin. That was a large part of what made him uncomfortable around Zechs. He didn't wish she had lied, or remained silent, but it still made him uncomfortable, even agitated. All those half-concealed, disapproving looks by people she loved and they both respected made him nervous about just touching her, being close to her, much less what went on behind closed doors. Maybe that had been part of the reason behind their escapade early this morning, to remind himself he could have her if he wanted her, that she wanted him to have her.
But here no one was watching them now. It was just them, in a their mutual space for a change, and everyone around either didn't care about their relationship or approved. And she looked beautiful. He rested one hand in a familiar way around her waist and was just thinking of removing her coat when there came a knock at their door.
They both pulled away from each other abruptly, flushing. He was standing three feet away before he even thought twice about it. It irriated him, more than it should have. So much for not having to worry about being careful.
Relena rushed to answer the door and Heero immediately forgot about his irritation when he remembered the real reason he had come to Taravren. Damion bowed to them both when the door was opened, lingering a moment in the hallway. There was a parade of counselors, petitioners, and various attendants on his heels, consulting one another in hushed, hurried tones. Damion smiled apologetically at them and turned to his people, begging time alone. His train of followers grumbled, bowed and departed in various degrees of contentment. Some looked rather vexed. Damion entered Heero and Relena's apartment and shut the door softly behind him, sighing.
Heero just shook his head, amazed the guy could handle all this activity in the wake of such personal trauma, but he said nothing of it. Damion looked polished and confident, dressed well in a white dress shirt and an expensive coat, but there was a distinct tightness in his face and a hint of redness about the pale gray eyes that were usually so striking with his dark hair.
"I'm sorry I was unable to meet you at the door," he apologized formally. "I really am glad that you're here."
Relena walked over an gave him a hug, which he accepted in some surprise and great relief. "You don't have to try to entertain us," she said. "You have enough to worry about. Heero and I will be fine. We're here to offer you some relief, not add to your difficulties."
He regarded her gratefully and then crossed the room and grasped Heero's hand. "Thank you for coming," he said simply.
Heero nodded. "What can we do to help?" Relena walked over to stand beside him, taking his hand in her own behind her back, interlacing their fingers.
Damion took a deep breath. "I have some political matters to take care of presently. My father's funeral is scheduled for this coming Sunday and there's a lot that has to be done. My mother and the staff are arranging most of it, but I need to sign some waivers and things." He trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut, but continued presently. "My regency celebration is tomorrow, which entails a short ceremony. You don't have to go to that, but the following festivities is where I will meet all the girls as well as other influential members of the country who will be arriving."
Heero and Relena nodded. "Then don't worry about us tonight," Relena assured him. "We will see you after the ceremony tomorrow. Is it a festive occasion?"
"Somewhat," Damion replied. "There will be some activities, races, gambling probably, perhaps a few exhibitions, but it will be a subdued sort of celebration because it preludes a funeral. It's done more to release tension than anything else." He paused and looked over his shoulder in some agitation
"Go work and rest tonight," Relena urged with a smile. "I know you're busy. We will see you tomorrow."
Damion nodded wearily, thanked them again, and quietly exited. It was then that Heero noticed how truly tired the guy was.
Relena sighed once the door was closed and sat down on one of the couches, removing her shoes. "I'm going to take a shower, Heero," she said, stretching her arms above her head. "And then I'm going to check out that huge bed in the other room, where I assume you'll join me later?" She smiled at him.
His stomach tightened and a flash of lightning shot up to his heart. It wasn't a sexual reaction, and rather suprised him.
She bit her bottom lip in a cute way and made toward the bathroom without waiting for an answer, piling her hair on the top of her head.
Heero's initial smile slipped as he watched her go, and he wondered at himself. What was wrong? That bed had looked inviting to him when they arrived, just moments ago, and should seem twice as inviting with her in it, preferrably unclothed, but instead the sensation he got was dread. He shook himself. Just two minutes ago he was ready to sleep with her, but something had changed. First his irritations when they were interrupted, and then that feeling in his gut. It was not her, he knew. He loved her; she was beautiful and perfect and loved him equally. What then, was making him feel uneasy?
It was not Damion. He didn't even think about Damion in relation to Relena anymore, and hadn't since he won her. The only thing he could decipher was that it was Taravren. This was, after all, where he had won her, where she had confessed her love for him, where he had almost died to hear it. The emotional involvement was strong, very stong. It was more than a place where they simply weren't watched. Why then, would it decrease his passion for her?
Heero walked about the apartments Damion had set up for them to ease his agitation. There was a room merely for entertaining and also a bedroom and a bathroom and closets. It was almost like a minature little house. Heero walked to the bedroom and stared at the bed, at the polished cheerywood posts, at the pillows and blankets. He thought of Relena, of taking off her robe and carassing her skin, of kissing her neck and feeling her bare arms wrap around his neck. The thought excited him, but at the same time distrubed him. His brow furred and he sat in a chair by the bed, propping one boot on the arm, thinking.
After her shower, Relena walked into the room in her bath robe and found him still in the chair, staring at the bed, fully clothed and only half aware of her. She rubbed her hair with a towel, drying and tangling it. When he didn't get up, she approached him slowly and touched his shoulder suggestively.
He shook her off. "Not tonight, Relena," he said quietly.
She pulled her fingers back, repelled. "All right, Heero," she said softly, her hand hovering above his shoulder. He didn't really notice the confusion in her tone, he was so confused, but he took her hand and kissed it to show his affection and then got up to go out on the balcony, leaving her in her bath robe by the bed to puzzle his strange reaction alone.
*****
Damion sunk wearily in his bed at three in the morning, exhausted, one leg hanging over the side and one arm flung over his head. He concentrated on breathing. The room was cloaked in the blue-black darkness of night, full of comforting shadows and the promises of rest, yet plans and propositions ran through his head still in unceasing waves. Though fatiqued to the point of sickness, he couldn't close his eyes. In his mind he saw his father's face when he was still alive, went over their last conversation in his head--a political debate about anarchy, since it had been growing popular in some places--and shuddered. His father was dead. It was so hard to grasp. But he saw his mother weeping, robed in black, her face tear-stained, her eyes red and blurry. He feared he must look something like that, and knew he could not afford such lack of composure. He had not been able to cry today, had not shed a tear since he found out. There were too many people, too many things to do to allow him that sort of weakness. So now he lay on his bed fully clothed, even to his shoes, and let tears flow out of his eyes and over his cheeks for an hour, maybe two. At some point he fell asleep, and was awakened by a newly hired servant at six am. He rose wearily, feeling even more haggard, as if he had not slept at all. But there was no help for it. He would be declared Prince Regent at noon, and there was much to do before then. Directly after that, he had a party to attend, and some girls to impress. If he had not been exhausted to the point of death, he would have laughed at himself.
*****
"Quatre, are you sure this is the place?" Duo asked, looking about, his hands on his hips. Hilde stood beside him, smiling as she peered about. Duo scratched his head. "It looks more like a fair than a funeral."
In a large park near the palace, people were milling everywhere, most smiling and laughing, walking alone or in groups, with friends or family. Almost everyone was dressed up to some degree, some more than others. Quatre noticed some girls in dresses that were almost gowns, and wondered if some of them were the girls Damion was supposed to meet.
"Yeah," the blonde gundam pilot assured him. "There was a ceremony at noon and now a celebration party of sorts."
"Come on, Duo," Hilde laughed brightly, tugging at his arm. "We might as well enjoy ourselves while we're here. I've never been to Taravren before."
"Ah, all right, Hilde," Duo agreed, "but remember we're really here to support Damion and visit with Heero and Relena."
Quatre smiled at the pair of them as he adjusted a twisted gold cuff link on his sleeve. They were cute together, though they couldn't seem to decide for sure whether they were a couple or merely friends. He believed they were dating again now.
"Hey," Duo said suddenly, and pointed. "I think I see them over there."
Quatre looked to where a great mass of people had gathered on and about some erected stands, looking out at what appeared to be a horse vaulting show. A space in the stands near the front had been roped off like a booth. There Quatre could clearly see Relena as she stood on Heero's right, chatting amiably with who was unmistakenly Damion, standing on her left. It was clearly Damion because he was decked out in all his formal wear, robes of cream and gold embroidery, even to a silver circlet about his head. Even as Quatre and the others watched, he removed his robe, folded it carefully and handed in to a man who passed him on his left. Straightening in a white dress shirt he said something to Heero, who appeared to shrug and nod without much comment.
"The ceremony must have just ended," Quatre mused. "Should we join them?"
"Can we?" Hilde asked. "I mean, this guy's Prince Regent of Taravren, right? Isn't that basically a King without the official ceremony?"
Hilde has a strange way of putting everything into questions when she was anxious. Quatre smiled at her. "Well, yeah, but he invited us to come around whenever we want, and Heero and Relena are friends of his, and we are friends of their's."
Duo chuckled. "Don't worry about it, Hilde. Damion's a really nice guy. He won't mind."
Hilde regarded him dubiously as they made for the stands, still clinging to Duo's arm.
"Hey, Heero!" Duo called, waving his other hand. "Damion, Relena, nice to see ya!"
Relena smiled at them and she leaned over, her hair spilling over her shoulder. "Quatre, Hilde, Duo," she welcomed them, her smile lighting up her face.
"Come join us," Damion said, half turning. He and Heero were staring out at the performing area, where a horse was being trotted around in a circle by a long leading leash. Heero didn't look at them, but Quatre hadn't really expected him to. "I was just pointing out to Heero and Relena some of the girls," Damion continued as Quatre and the others clambered up on the stands.
"Have you met any yet?" Quatre inquired.
"Several," Damion replied. "They were all at the ceremony, and a few introduced themselves afterward."
"Any nice, pretty ones?" Duo asked.
Damion laughed. "A few," he admitted, "but I still have to meet Audrey Veron before I can even consider any of the others."
"Huh," Duo said. "Where is she?"
Damion nodded to the vaulting circle. Quatre noticed how his eyes were tight and a little shadowed from lack of sleep, but didn't say anything. It wasn't really something to be wondered about. He remembered all the work there was for him to do right after the war, even for a business that his sisters mostly managed. Damion had a country to rule. Quatre turned his attention to the valuting circle, where a young woman had swung up onto the horse's back while it was trotting in a circle.
"Why are we watching this?" Duo asked as the girl tilted up into a headstand on the horse's shoulders. "Whoa! Neat."
"That's Audrey," Heero informed him, crossing his arms. The girl flipped back down gracefully and proceeded to stand up on the saddle.
"I'm going to go talk to her when she's done performing," Damion said. His gray eyes were focused on the girl rather intently.
"She's pretty," Quatre said. Or she seemed to be from this distance. "She's not smiling, though."
Damion nodded. "Yeah, she's pretty," he repeated Quatre's comment softly, and Quatre caught a note of true affection rather than cynicism in his voice. Damion was staring at her almost as if he were surprised, pleasantly so. Was he perhaps taken by her so quickly? He looked it, but Quatre believed Damion was the type to give his best to any situation, to reserve no feelings of goodwill. If he was expected to marry this girl before all others, he would make every conscious effort to make it work, but Quatre suspected too that the Prince was genuinely struck to the heart by her appearance, and that that was why he looked so pleasantly surprised.
"Maybe you'll get lucky," Quatre encouraged with a smile. "Fate could have a way of working this out for you. You deserve it."
"I still have to talk to her," he said, and nothing in his tone betrayed the peculiar look Quatre had noticed in his eyes. "Should I go alone or take someone with me?"
"You're the prince," Heero said. Relena hit him lightly in the arm. He took her hand and held it, seemingly almost unconscious of doing so. Quatre smiled again. He could see the affection between them. It had been wild for awhile, but it had settled since last time they were in Taravren, flowing, so to speak, beneath the surface like an old stream. As Heero's hand curled around Relena's fingers, she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.
Damion smiled at them fondly and looked again over at Audrey. She had just dismounted to applause. He clapped.
"Go alone," Hilde suggested. "You might spook her if you bring a parade with you. Oh, is she looking this way?" she exclaimed, leaning over the rail.
Damion nodded and said nothing, merely smiling and watching her. "She knows who I am," he said, and his face scrunched up some. He took a deep breath. "I'd better talk to her." He looked nervous.
Audrey made a light bow and turned, walking out of of the arena. She looked back at all of them once she was out of the circle, and then dissapeared in the crowd.
Damion took a deep breath. "All right. I'm going."
"Good luck," Relena said, still clapping as she smiled at him over her shoulder. "And don't worry so much. You'll be fine."
"Yeah," Duo seconded. "You'll do great. Hey, where's that Manny guy anyway?"
"Busy," Damion said. "He's been a little spooked since I became Regent. He's been fighting with Terese lately too."
"Oh, anything serious?" Quatre asked as Damion wove his around them.
"No. Just their usual squabbles. The whole staff has just been really busy lately with all that's going on. I've gotta go."
"Huh," Duo said. "Bye."
"Good luck," Quatre said.
Damion smiled, ducked under the ropes and jumped off the bleachers. He was immediately accosted by several official looking men, but waved them off with hasty words and elegant gestures. He then hurried in the direction Audrey had taken.
"This is so weird," Duo said with a laugh.
"No kidding," Hilde seconded.
"I think it's sad," Quatre said. "Damion's a really great guy. What if it doesn't work out?"
They all fidgeted a little uncomfortably.
"Don't worry about Damion," Heero said suddenly, surprising them. He had not said much in the way of conversation, not even a greeting. Not that anyone one had exactly expected a joyous welcome from Gundam Pilot 01. "No one believes in love like he does," Heero continued. "If anyone can make it work, he can."
"Besides," Relena said, supporting Heero like she always did, but sincerely voicing her own opinion. Not surprising, since they thought alike. "Damion's a prince, and a wonderful man. A girl would be a fool not to love him."
Heero looked at her with those dark piercing eyes and she smiled at him, leaning her head again on his shoulder. She whispered something softly, her chin tilted up to one side. Emotion swam in Heero's eyes, clouds of love and affection and gentle tenderness. Duo rolled his eyes, but Quatre and Hilde both smiled. Neither Heero nor Relena seemed to notice. Relena closed her eyes and a different expression crossed Heero's face briefly. Quatre blinked and wondered. It almost looked like doubt.
*****
Damion searched vainly for the dark haired girl he had lost in the crowd. She had been wearing navy blue dress clothes, billowy silk pants tied at the waist and a matching top with a triangular collar that just bared the shoulders. When he first saw her, it was a shock, like a bolt of lightning to the heart.
She was a lovely girl, prettier even the pictures he had seen. Her hair was dark brown, almost black in certain lighting, much like his own, and her eyes were large, brown, and set in a face that had seemed flawless, at least from a distance. Her skin was pale, white as cream, but with her dark eyes and hair it gave her a look of cool winter, of bare trees and snow. It had been difficult to make out her features with any clear certainty, but he could tell that she was beautiful.
It had shocked him, seeing her and finding himself so enamored so suddenly. He had met a lot of girls today, even a lot of pretty girls, but he was moved by none of them. They had been whimsical, flattering and insincere for the most part. Audrey had not sought him out, though he knew she must know him. He didn't know if it was because she was confident, knowing they must meet and making him come to her, or if she simply was not interested. At this point, he didn't care. He had to meet her, to see what she was like. He feared his heart might lead him astray, his head knowing she was first choice and his eyes telling him how pretty she was, but he hoped Quatre Winner was right, that fate would prove lucky, or God charitable.
Abruptly, he saw her, standing alone by a fence, looking out at the gardens in the park with a somewhat melancholy, thoughtful expression.
She turned when he approached, and he swallowed, hesitating. Her eyes were sharp, dark brown like polished cherrywood, and not overly friendly. But that was not what put him off. Audrey looked a little like Clara, just enough to bring flashes of her to his mind, dying in his arms, gasping that she had loved him all her life. He froze, his stomach tingling as Audrey straightened, brushing brown hair from her shoulders. It had a little bit of natural curl to it, just enough to give it thickness and body, and also making it cling to her cheeks and neck. She was taller than both Relena or Clara, slender and self-possessed of poise and grace, but there was an independence to her posture that was somewhat intimidating as she regarded him somewhat like an interference.
"Prince Damion," she greeted him, and bowed. Had she been wearing a dress, she would have curtseyed, he was sure of it. He couldn't tell if it was done with reverence or mockery. Both made him nervous. When she straightened, she still had not smiled.
"Greetings, Miss Veron," he greeted her a little clumsily. Her self-possession was throwing him out of sorts. He couldn't remember the first thing about charm. He stumbled on persistently, though, his mind grasping anxiously for words. He wanted to be casual with her, but couldn't seem to cut the formality from his tongue. God, he was so tired. "I haven't yet had the pleasure of making your aquaintence."
She just looked at him for several seconds in silence. "You're the prince," she said a little tartly. "Well met."
He recoiled somewhat at her rudeness. "Hold on," he said sharply, losing some of his grace. "What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing," she replied, turning toward the garden, her eyes shadowed. She grasped the rails of the little black fence that separated her from the flowers, her knuckles turning white. "They're just words. I apologize."
"They're very uncivil words," he said, swallowing. "I was merely saying hello."
She made a little noise in her throat that was clearly an indication of disbelief. "Do you really want to marry me?" she asked flatly, turning again.
He stared at her, speechless.
"You should look elsewhere," she continued, her gaze sliding down to the ground. "I wouldn't make you a proper wife." She made as if to walk away.
Well that was blunt honesty if he ever heard it. He swallowed and lost his hold on proper countenance. He grabbed her wrist. "Wait, hold on a minute," he said a little angrily, and released her hastily when she glared at him. "I apologize," he said, standing closer to her than really made him comfortable, "but why would you say something like that?" She stared up at him through dark lashes, defiant, her eyebrows lowered in indignation. She thought she might have very pretty eyes, if she would stop looking so angry.
"I have no desire to marry," she said, but did not step away, perhaps out of stubborness. "I'm sorry. I told my father I would try, but now that I am here I do not see how it is possible."
His first reaction was to be personally offended that she would not even consider him, but then he realized it wasn't him that repulsed her, but marriage in general. "Look," he said, trying to forestall her. He could repay her in frankness if nothing else, and he would not be persuaded to give up so easily. "This isn't a situation I would have chosen for myself, but don't brush me off so casually. Don't you think we should at least get to know each other?"
She looked at him for several seconds, staring into his eyes. Slowly, puzzlement stole over her face, as if she saw something she did not expect. He looked at her in earnest, breathing with more energy than was really necessary. "Whatever for?" she asked at last, quietly this time.
"I understand that you wouldn't want to marry a stranger," he persisted. "Neither do I. If I could choose my own destiny as easily as I could command a new park built, I would wait for love. But matters being what they are, I have chosen to make the best of it. I am not asking you to make a committment of any kind, but I think I could take pleasure in your company if you would have me. You don't have to marry me, or even be my friend, but don't spurn me so thoughtlessly. I'd like to know you better."
"A new park?" she repeated, distracted. For a moment, the hostility on her face slipped. He felt a surge of something in his gut as a small smile crept across her face. All of her features seemed to change with it. Her eyes sparkled, bewitching him, though she seemed unaware of it. "All right," she agreed. "Perhaps I have made a mistake. I guess I will make better your aquaintence, but I promise nothing."
He grinned, unable to stop himself. "That's okay," he said, perhaps a touch too quickly. "Can I invite you to a tour of the city tomorrow, or the countryside?"
"Alone or among friends?" she asked suspiciously.
"Either," he said, "friends, if it would make you feel more comfortable."
"All right," she agreed slowly, dubiously. " I would like to see the countryside."
"I'll find you tomorrow then," he said, and had a desire to kiss the back of her hand, but didn't. "Good afternoon."
He left her hastily, his heart racing. For a second there, he thought he was going to get kicked over a cliff. Of all the things he feared this weekend, rejection was least among them. He had been more worried about manipulation, seduction and insincerity, not rudeness. He was troubled by it, but equally elated that she had agreed to at least spend more time with him. There was a chance she would change her mind. He didn't know about marrying her, but he thought he might like the girl beneath all that open aversion and hostility. If he could manage to dispel it. Then again, she was first choice. What if this was some elaborate ploy to attract him, to single herself out from the other girls? He'd almost forgotten there were other girls. He had better be careful, but then, he had only agreed to a date. If she was false, he would know it soon enough, but until then, he was inclined to believe her merely agitated by the situation, fears he hoped he could vanquish in time.
*****
Audrey watched Prince Damion Ravineere walk away in some confusion.
He was beautiful, more so than she had been led to believe. He had
surprised her, being so open so quickly. Was he a fool, or simply
honest? The sincerity in his eyes confounded her. When
he smiled at her, she had almost felt something, horrifying as it was.
She did not know why she agreed to meet him again, unless it be to appease
her father's expectations of her conduct, but once he was gone she had
an impression of those bright, beautiful gray eyes imprinted on her mind,
and couldn't shake the image all the rest of the day.
This took longer than I thought. I was supposed to be up sooner,
but oh well. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review. It encourages me
to write more and I take note of everything that's said. Comments,
compliments and critiques are all welcome. Don't worry, there
are twists to come! And what is up with Heero? Any guesses?
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