Ahem. This is a complete revision. It's the same idea, but I changed A LOT in the Relena and Heero scenes. I was unhappy with the original and the nice people who reviewed confirmed my suspicions. Please review again. It would help me a lot. Thx.

Temper the Soul

Chapter 11

by Zapenstap



Relena paced like a cat, rubbing her hands and face periodically to rid her body of the energy that welled up as a result of her chaotic emotions. She was both cold and hot in turns, the fever in her head and the numbness in her hands making her feel like some sort of disconnected spirit. She was angry too, angry and heartbroken and self-pitying. She hated it.

Her brother watched her impassively, ornately dressed in the attire of Cinq royalty, his face expressionless. Noin sat beside him, silent in this argument between family. Relena could feel Zech's eyes on her, those weighing, calculating eyes, watching her, wondering about her. She could not look at him for more than a few minutes without feeling agitated. Even when she considered his point in as unbiased a light as she could manage, the memory of Heero's eyes and arms and hot kisses invaded her brain until she could no longer think.

"I do not know what you expected," her brother said with a slight shake of his head.

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," Relena snapped at him. "You're supposed to support me."

"I do," he growled gruffly. "But I'm not going to coddle you, or pity you. Honestly, what did you expect to come of this?"

What did she expect? What did she expect? Had she expected anything at all except the feeling of Heero's arms about her, holding her in his close, comfortable embrace as long as he would remain by her? Did she believe it would be forever? Had she wanted to hear anything except what he whispered in her ears when he kissed her hair and buried his face in her neck? She knew his eyes so well, those lovely dark eyes that held her and brought her into him.

This was driving her mad.

He did love her, didn't he? All those emotions, all those touches and whispers and caresses, surely they weren't just lust, desire with perhaps the rationalization of love. They had conversations, didn't they? They intellectually stimulated each other. They emotionally supported each other. When they made love he tried to please her too, not just himself, with variable (but acceptable) success. He cared about her, about her opinions and feelings, how she was treated, how her day went. He said he loved her and she believed him. Why shouldn't she?   But what if he really didn't?

So what did she expect? How important was expectation anyway? And what right did her brother have to comment on it?

Zechs was cold and deaf to her distress.

She had come expecting succor and she had gotten it after a fashion, but Zechs seemed more angry than sympathetic. She had explained that she had left Heero because he wouldn't touch her and wouldn't talk to her, and Zechs seemed to be implying that this was what he had suspected all along. He was making Heero out to be some sort of…user, and herself as a blind fool.   Of course, Zechs was always overly concerned with her reputation and virtues. So far all they had talked about was how she had let herself and her family down by carrying on a secret sex life with Heero, how she had disobeyed God and her Christian principals by not expecting more for herself, how she had become weak to let a man use her for two years without any kind of real commitment. It was infuriating and disheartening to listen to. She felt sick to her stomach, but her emotions were so chaotic she couldn't come up with any replies that did her defense a decent stroke.

Zechs didn't even really know her that well, did he? Not as well as Heero surely. But she could not run to Heero now. No, it was her duty to face her family and stick up for herself because she knew she was blameless. It had been coming for awhile.

"Well?" he demanded.

"What did you expect, Milliardo?" she shot back. "That I would remain a virgin until I one day married the son of an aristocratic gentleman from a politically influential family? How old a virgin would I be? Am I to give up my career and be just a housewife and mother too?"

"There's certainly nothing wrong with that, but I didn't say anything of the kind.  I just hoped you would enter a relationship with someone who would be willing to wait on taking your heart until he could commit to cherishing it.  I've been expecting Heero to disappear on you for months."

Her lip trembled.  Sometimes…sometimes on the worst days, she had feared he might too.  "Why is it that it's okay for you and Noin to be normal human beings and do whatever you feel like doing before you got married, but not me? I love Heero, Milliardo! That's more than many people can say in regard to their sex lives. I truly and deeply love him, and he loves me. And I wanted to express it. How can you ask 'What did I expect?' "

"I'm just looking out for you.  You ought to have nothing less than the best.  I didn't commit to a relationship with Noin for the very reason that I knew I wasn't ready to honor it, Relena.  It took time for me to realize what I really wanted and what I was willing to do for it.  Heero and I are alike in a lot of ways.  I'm just afraid you both jumped into things too fast, especially being so physical before you had your emotions and intentions in place, and then trying to hide it.  If it needs to be hidden you're not comfortable with it, and you really ought to be."

There it was again, that guilty feeling. Stubbornly, she reminded herself that in these times there was nothing wrong with having sex with the boy you loved. There was nothing wrong with it at all! Zechs was just too hung up on her being fifteen and a symbol to the world. Well, she was no longer fifteen and she was no longer a symbol. She had an important job, sure, but that was it. God, he was almost as bad as Heero for idolizing her to be something she was not!  She had wanted this, wanted him, and…!

"You can be angry at me all you want," Zechs said blandly, leaning back in his chair, "but I know you expected more for yourself. You were never one to do what everyone else was doing just to feel normal. I thought having the highest expectations for love and romance would be easy for you. I thought you would expect better treatment of your heart and body, but I suppose it was your own decision to give them away for temporary enjoyment of sexual pleasures rather than waiting until you could be sure it would last forever. I like Heero.  I see that you are good for each other.  I just expected you to have used more patience and discretion."

She wanted to hit him, but the only thing that happened was the formation of hot, angry tears in her eyes. "Well, don't put those kind of expectations on me," she said quietly through clenched teeth. "I didn't throw away my virtues. I don't regret any of the intimacy I shared with Heero.  I didn't sacrifice anything for sex."

"Well, for love then," he said flippantly. "As if it makes that big of a difference in the end, since they go together in this case. You're still here, aren't you? And where is he? Why are you in this situation?"

She didn't answer. "I expected more of Heero," she said quietly.  There were tears on her cheeks.

"I know, but you can't make it all Heero's fault. Men don't always think when it comes to these things."

She turned away in pain and disgust, though whether at him or herself or Heero he had no idea. She did not feel well. Underneath it all, she knew Milliardo and Noin were worried about her. She knew they cared about her and wanted nothing but to help her, but her brother's accusations made her angry all the same. She did not like being told she was wrong. She did not want to think that maybe she had messed up somewhere, that she had not been foresighted enough, that she had gotten caught up in her feelings and had forgotten to plan ahead.

"Forget it," she said huffily, and turning on her heel, strode out of the room and out of his presence. Once beyond the wall, she leaned back against it, taking deep breaths, and tried to pull herself together. In these moods she had always depended on Heero. He was a rock to run for support, a rock that would carry her up softly and gently, lay her down and smother her with love and understanding. She knew his mind so well. It was not about sex. When she touched him she touched more than his body. She could feel his soul under his skin, see his thoughts in his eyes, and she knew that he loved her, felt the same way about her. How could Zechs accuse her of being wanton and disrespectful of herself? Did he know what it was like to look into the eyes of a man who loved you and even conceive of saying no?

She peered around the corner as Milliardo sighed and settled into one of the chairs by the window. Noin (Relena would always think of her as Noin) sat on the sofa beside him. They sat in silence for awhile, not feeling it necessary to speak, but the glances between them were comforting and meaningful. Looking at them, Relena was jealous. Heero loved her like that, or he had once. But he wouldn't keep her.  That seemed to be the point Zechs was making.

She squeezed her eyes shut as Noin spoke to her husband, Relena's brother, in those soft, rolling tones of hers.  Relena wished that she could ever have allowed herself the certainty that Heero would be there forever for her, but truthfully she had never allowed herself to think that Heero might really marry her.  In that sense, she really hadn't planned ahead.  Maybe she had even known all along that it would end up this way.

"She's still quite spirited," Noin remarked admirably after a few minutes of reflection.

"She's stubborn and proud," Zechs said acidly. Relena sighed, looking down at her feet, but she felt Noin's responding smile in her voice.

"So are you," Lucrezia Merquise replied quietly. "You shouldn't be so hard on her. You know we didn't wait when we young."

"I know," Zechs said quietly. "But I have to be hard or she won't hear me. I know I'm not blameless in anything either. I have blood on my hands, hate and revenge..."

"Self-righteous and spiteful is what you were," Noin said. "But I was patient with you."

He stopped for a moment and then laughed at her frankness. "I don't expect her to be perfect either," he amended, "but I would like her to realize the value of the things she has lost, the price she paid for them, and take responsibility for that. She's a good girl, pure-hearted, kind, bold, brave. I always knew she would love strongly and passionately but she's not the kind of girl who can start over easily. I don't know if she can recover from losing someone after giving so much. She should have expected more, held on to her virtues. You know she has always wanted to marry that boy, and in a sense she has pretended like they were married, even though she must have known it wasn't anything like that.  I do think that Heero Yuy has the strength to be everything she needs if he really loved her. He wouldn't question his worthiness as she says if she forced him to work for something. That judgment would have been on her side."

Relena swallowed, biting her lower lip as she listened. Was any of that true? She tried to see his side. Oh, Heero....

Taking a deep breath, Relena gathered her shattered illusions and pushed herself away from the wall. It was time to face the music and seek restoration in her family, even a strange and disconnected family such as this. Milliardo did care about her. He was just not much of a compromising man. She reappeared in the room, apologetic for her rudeness and short temper and unsure what to say.

"Come sit down, Relena," Lucrezia beckoned when she saw her. "We know how hard this must be for you," Lucrezia added.

Relena hesitated for a moment, but then she yielded to Noin's bidding. Her steps were light and smooth as she joined her brother and his wife near the window and sat down gracefully on the couch across from them, folding the skirt of her dress under her as she sat. Straightening her back, she clasped her hands over her knees and sat like a statue, not looking up.

She bit her lip, casting a furtive direction at her brother. Such sweet, spoiled innocence, he seemed to say, such betrayed devotion. Young fool. There was nothing she could say. The last time they had made love with Heero was still vivid in her mind, the slickness of their bodies under the hot water of the shower, Heero's hands in her wet and tangled hair, his fierceness in claiming her with surety and confidence. She thought she had felt something special in their lovemaking recently, in everything they did together. Things were comfortable, easy, lovely and light. But maybe she had been mistaken, or maybe it was only she who felt it. Maybe she had given too much too quickly and left no room for progression, as Zechs seemed to be saying.

"You gave him everything and asked for nothing in return," Zechs replied calmly to her admission, as if he could read her mind. "Why do you always give so much? Why do women assume men will stay forever because women are willing to? Why pay for something you can get for free?"

"Zechs..." Lucrezia whispered. "She doesn't need any further..."

Relena felt tears in her eyes and tried to force them down, to stop thinking about Heero and the way she felt with him. Her fingers clenched around the material of her dress, the knuckles turning white. "I knew what I was doing," she choked. Maybe she had been used, but in that case they were using each other, and she loved him.

"I know you care about him," he said gently. "And I'm sure he cares about you.  But relationships only end one of two ways and I know you wanted it to end the other way."

She felt cold. Was she guilty? It had been her idea to make love so soon. She had known he wouldn't want to say no, but was that wrong, when she loved him so much? She wanted him too.  Her hands were blue and cold. "I'm sorry I disappointed you," she said quietly. "Heero means so much to me." Maybe it hadn't been prudent or perfect, but… "I needed him. I love him and I miss him a lot, but I don't regret our time together."

"Tell me the truth, Relena," Milliardo said more gently, leaning toward her. "I know you loved him, but did you give so much because you were afraid he would leave you if you didn't?"

She bit her lip. He had almost died waiting for her, had almost given up without her. Yes, she had wanted to prove to him that he had her, to clear away all the doubts and uncertainties. Maybe, maybe she had given her body to him as a way of atonement. Maybe they hadn't really been ready. He had uncertainties despite her generosity, despite her willingness to please. Well, it was too late now, and even if she were guilty she would admit that she enjoyed it. The feeling of him over her and inside her, his hands on her body, his lips on her lips was heaven. She had never felt that way with anyone else before. It was like the world disappeared, like the mechanics of the motions and the movements were second nature and quite forgettable. All she could think about when she was with him was his soul and how he made her feel. If she was guilty, her guilt was to love too strongly and imprudently, and she could live with that, though without him she would be miserable. That was just the price she had to pay. But as her brother said, there was a price. "I loved him," she said firmly. "And I wanted his touch. I didn't and don't feel guilty, Milliardo. Everything about it was wonderful, even though now..." She trailed off, biting her lip at the reminder. It was wonderful. It was. It was over now. "Now, I'm just sad."

Noin moved to sit behind Relena, grabbing her shoulders. At the touch of human hands, Relena's rigid posture melted and she crumpled into Noin's arms, seeking silent comfort, tears leaking from her eyes as Noin smoothed her hair and whispered comforting words, rocking her like a child. Relena felt Milliardo sit beside her.

"You're a good woman," he said comfortingly, touching her shoulder. "I just want the best for you."

"I know," she said softly, not looking at him. "I'm so sorry I disappointed you with my decision, but I do love him."

"It's not Heero, Relena," Lucrezia said softly. "God knows how much we respect him. It's just the way things have turned out."

"You should have used more moderation," Zechs said stubbornly, but without harshness. "If he loved you he would have waited, out of respect for you and your family and himself even. Men can wait, whatever people say.  Everyone would have been happy and you would not suffer like this now. You plunged in and gave him everything, expecting nothing. But I understand why you did it. You just both should have known better."

"Thank you," she said, unable to think of anything else. "I'm going to go up to my room." She rose, feeling a little light-headed.

Heero was really gone. Would he come back? Did she want him to? No. She did not want to hear him apologize and get back together, continuing as they had. She missed him. She loved him. But if it had to end, it might as well end now.

*****

"Wake up, prince Damion," Manny cried cheerfully in his usual brisk, bright tones as he crossed through Damion's room and clambered up on the window seat to opened the curtains and turn the blinds. Sunlight streamed into Damion's room at 6:30 in the morning, flooding the carpet with a river of white light.

Damion opened his eyes. He was usually awake before Manny came in, but not always. God, it was early. His bed was so warm and comfortable; he didn't want to move.

"Come on, get up," Manny said, leaping down from the window and strolling up to the side of Damion's bed. He banged on the headboard, rapping his knuckles on the wood behind Damion's head. Damion winced, sitting up. Manny grinned, brown eyes shining beneath sandy brown hair that was barely combed this morning. "Long night last night, eh? And another fun day today!"

Nodding, Damion sighed, threw the blankets aside and got up.

Manny grinned, tossing him his robe. "There's coffee waiting for you in your study," he said.

"Yay," Damion said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. It wasn't that impressive.

"And a great stack of papers of proposals to okay before the mail goes out," Manny added with a wink.

"Delightful."

"Hopefully it won't be as bad as last night," Manny said as he sauntered out of the room. "I'll see you in twenty minutes, Master Damion!"

Damion sighed, yawning and rubbing his face as the door closed. Hopefully today would be shorter at least. Except for how late he was up doing paperwork, last night hadn't been so bad. After his speech there had been a reception, and after the reception there had been reports, which Manny had stayed up to help him finish. Delegation was still leveling out and the staff was unsettled, so more responsibly fell on him than should have been, but things were getting better. They had finished everything two hours past midnight, but there was more to do today.

But the reception itself had gone well.

Audrey had amazed him. She had been absolutely perfect. In her dress with her hair up, she glowed like some heavenly creature, her skin shining in the light, soft and smooth and in such contrast with her dark features he almost didn't believe she was real. And yet she trailed him always, conversing with other parties that happened to be only a few feet away so that when he needed her for introductions, they could be made smoothly. White teeth flashing, she took his arm with a light touch, extended her hand to visiting lords and deferred to almost everything he said without missing a beat or looking like a milksop. Damion knew it was a show, but it seemed real and he had never felt so honored. To anyone of power and consequence, she praised him, supporting nearly everything that came out of his mouth with her own personal touch. Sometimes she would disagree, but always on matters of taste, not policy, and though he knew she must in actuality disagree with more of what he said, her acceptance for his sake gratified him beyond belief. Her father had also been present, and he too seemed pleased and proud of her conduct.

It was important that she appear that way. Marrying him would put her in a place of power when he was crowned. Those that stood above her now would soon be subordinate to her wishes and desires and everyone knew it. It was important that she appear to yield to him, to look controllable, even if she was not. That he would have wished her to be naturally like-minded on most things went without saying, especially since her power would not be equal to his, but he had no desire to force his will on her. Her support, unsolicited, pleased him considerably.

With the music and the lights and the vision of her so congenital before his eyes, he had wanted to nothing than to take her by the waist and dance with her, but it was not that kind of party. More so, with the way she attended to him he almost felt the urge to bring her back to his rooms, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if she were already his wife in body and heart. So she had behaved, but he had to remind himself that he could scarcely kiss her without permission, and for some reason holding her upset her considerably. He still could not figure out why.

There was no time to think on it now.

When Damion finished readying himself, he went to his study. Manny was already there, pouring coffee into two mugs. The reports were laid out on a table, but to his surprise, there were not that as many as he had feared.

"Terese took some of the development contracts away," Manny supplied as he handed Damion a steaming mug of coffee mixed with a little cream and sugar. "Apparently those don't have to go through you."

"Good," Damion sighed with a content smile, sitting down and stretching his legs out beneath the table. Manny sat across from him. "I'll be happier when the work load has been delegated and I won't be solely responsible for any of this."

A knock on the outside of the door made them both look up.

"A call-in from Cinq, my Lord," one the serving girls said contritely. He recognized her as Mary Winters, the one of the cook's oldest daughter. He knew almost everyone in the palace who had been there since before his father's death, but there were a lot of new faces these days too.

Damion sighed. "I'll be back," he said. Manny nodded absently, peering at one of the reports half cross-eyed, turning it sideways like a puzzle piece.

The nearest transmission vid-screen was only two doors down from the study. As Damion entered, he pushed the button that allowed the incoming signal to be received and leaned against the wall.

"Hey, prince Damion," Duo Maxwell said cheerily, blinking those enormous blue eyes at him. Hilde waved in the background, jumping up and down on her toes behind Duo's shoulder. "We just wanted to call in and apologize for our abrupt departure."

"Thanks," he said with a small smile, amused.

Duo grinned. "Well, Heero ran off the minute the plane landed and no one seems to know where he as gone, but the rest of are doing fine and will be heading our separate ways pretty soon. We just wanted you to know that we had a great time in Taravren."

"Where are you headed?" Damion asked. "The colonies?"

Duo shook his head. "Nope. Actually, I agreed to stop in at Preventor Headquarters. They're requesting some volunteers to go west to where the anarchy riots are taking place and gather some information or something. I'm going to stop in and see what it's all about. I feel out of the loop."

Damion nodded soberly, but didn't offer what he knew about the situation. "Take care of yourself," he said soberly.

"Oh, don't worry, I will," Duo said nonchalantly. "Anyway, sorry for the way things wound down at the end there. Hilde and I had a great time anyway. Just wanted to let you know."

"You're welcome," Damion replied with a smile. Duo winked and the transmission cut off.

When he returned to the study, Audrey was there and Manny was gone.

He stopped in confusion, staring at her. "Wha...?"

"Your servant went to make more coffee," she said quietly, standing by the table in an airy green silk skirt and cream colored blouse. She pushed a lock of dark hair from her face, and her eyes skidded over his face to the corner of the room. "I woke early and thought I could be of use to you this morning."

He looked at her in puzzlement, feeling strange. She came to spend time with him this early, to help him with his work...? "Sure," he said, collecting himself.

She smiled and seated herself, the fullness of her face and smooth skin of her cheeks making her appear younger than he was becoming accustomed to thinking of her. The sorrow he sometimes felt so keenly about her was not present this morning. She looked as she had the day he took her out on that picnic, happy and resilient and a little unsure of herself. Returning her smile, he sat down in the chair beside her, trying to tame his distraction at her presence.

Tucking that same straying lock of hair behind her hair, she reached for the documents and began looking them over. He merely watched her for a moment, pleasantly surprised by her presence, before he went back to work. He could tell she obviously knew quite a bit about the proposals he was forced to approve and seemed quite capable of handling them herself, but he wondered why she did.

"You don't have to help me with this," he said after a minute, and then flushed. "I mean, I like you here and I appreciate your help, but this isn't your responsibility."

"I know," she said, continuing to fill out the sheets before her with a graceful hand. "But I heard about all the work you did late last night when I was able to go to bed and that there was more this morning. Besides, I will have to get used to working with you and seeing you at more than formal functions. I should be aware of the work you do and..." she looked up into his face. "I don't mind, really."

Nodding slowly, trying to dissect the meaning behind her words, he asked her to pass him the stack of papers to her left, which she did silently. He was halfway through the reports when a possibility for her positive mood occurred to him. "Audrey," he said suddenly. "Did you enjoy yourself last night?"

She stopped what she was writing, freezing beside him. "Yes, I did," she replied softly, setting her pen down, staring straight ahead.

He wanted to ask her what she liked about it. Maybe it was just being the center of attention, of wearing a beautiful dress and absorbing so many compliments. But maybe she liked playing the role of his wife, of being on his arm. What was she thinking now? She didn't mind helping him with his work, or spending more time with him? Did she care about him at all, or was she merely enjoying the privileges associated with her position? For the time being, he supposed it didn't matter. Reaching across the space between them, he touched her face with his right hand, barely brushing two fingers beneath her chin. She turned her head with his touch.

The look in her eyes was darkly luminous, neither encouraging nor discouraging. The self-possession was still there, enveloping her in a protective shield, but somehow he felt like she wanted him to try and break through it, just for a moment, if he dared. Leaning forward and tilting his head, he met her mouth with his and kissed her softly. Electricity stirred in his gut when she at first hesitated and then kissed him back, eyes closed, but he didn't push for more. He didn't want her to become uncomfortable and leave, and in a way, this was kiss he ought to have given her at the end of last night if he'd had the nerve. Tentatively, he slipped a hand behind her head, caressing her neck as he threaded his fingers through those dark strands of hair. She did not pull away. He kissed her again, encouraged by her response, moving his mouth against hers with as little aggression as he could manage and still draw from her the flames she ignited in his heart and stomach.

He felt it when she pulled away, but she did it slowly, kissing him back before she disengaged. He met her eyes when she opened them and she did not turn from him immediately.

"I'm glad you had a good night," he said to break the silence, pulling back from her. "I did too. Thank you."

She flushed then, trying to contain a smile, a pink blush staining her cheeks. Chuckling, she brought a hand up to her mouth to hide her laughter, light dancing in her eyes. He realized then that what he had said sounded very different from what he had meant to convey. Mortified, he tried to apologize, but she waved away his sputters, laughing harder, until they were both laughing under their breath.

When Manny came back to the room with coffee for Audrey, he gave them both very strange looks and the one he directed at Damion was particularly dissecting, but neither of them bothered to explain. Even so, they returned to the reports in better humor, and Damion went back to work with a flicker of hope.

*****

Maple trees lined the walkways beneath her window, shading the cobblestone paths and casting shapes like the merging of many stars across the neatly trimmed lawn.

Heero stood alone on the path with his knees locked, tilting his head to stare up at the bricks leading to her windowsill, at the curtains that billowed outward in the breeze to be caressed by the soft sunshine. As a shadow passed by the curtains, he smiled to himself, feeling the breeze stir his hair and brush against his skin. He closed his eyes, breathing in the scents of summer and thought he could smell her too in this place, a scent like flowers and honey. When he opened his eyes, the shadow in the window was gone.

Turning away, the heels of his boot scraping against the cobblestone, he continued on, strolling quickly around the side of the building toward the front gates, concentrating on the image he had of her in his mind and anticipating when he would next see her face. The watchman looked up when he passed but did not stop him from entering. He was a recognizable face around Zech's manor house and in jeans and a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up just below the elbows, he did not look at all threatening. He nodded to the watchman as he passed and received a wave in return, but the guard still leaned over the pager to alert the household.

Burying anxious thoughts, he tried to appear non-chalant as he strolled past a marble fountain and made his way up the cut stone to the massive double doors at the front entrance of the house. Pleasant thoughts of her mingled with doubt and fear now that he was so close, and his breathing quickened in response to his anxiety. When he came to the front door, he blinked in surprise as it swung open to reveal a stranger, probably a house servant. The man nodded to him and stepped back to let him through without speaking. Heero obeyed the silent request and entered the hallway. The butler closed the door softly behind him

"Master Yuy I presume?"

Heero nodded.

"Walk straight to the back room, sir. He's waiting for you."

Heero nodded and said nothing. So Zechs knew he was here. Well, knowing Zechs, he wasn't surprised. It was past time this was done. If her brother had been anybody else, he wouldn't have felt it necessary to go through him, but in reality, Heero had more of a history and understanding of Zechs than Relena did, and this matter had to be resolved. Because maybe in Zech's mind, Heero Yuy was still a colonist, a soldier, perhaps even an enemy. He would have to convince him that he had a right to speak to Relena, tell him that he did love his sister and that he wanted to marry her. Even so, he felt queasy thinking about it, decidedly unsettled. A blanket of dread clung to him that he couldn't shake.

Taking a deep breath to settle his resolve, he followed the instructions of the butler and followed the hallway straight back until he came to something like a living room with a sliding door. As he entered, the butler silently shut the door behind him. It clicked closed just behind his heels.

Heero was left alone in the room with Zechs Merquise.

The room was spacious and orderly, with only a few pieces of heavy wood furniture, padded chairs, a book shelf and a table. Blue carpet, a few paintings against the walls and dark green leafy plants in the corners and window sills gave the room contrast and color. Heero thought he could sense Noin in the room's decor, classy and substantial but with a light, airy touch. Glass doors overlooked a back patio with the light-weight white curtains drawn shut, but the light from the sunshine shone through. It was a quiet, ventilated place, Zech's manor.

Zechs himself was leaning over a table with his back to him, scrawling a note a piece of white paper, but he was obviously quite aware of Heero's presence so Heero said nothing. He did not like this feeling, but he waited. There was bad blood here. He could feel it in the air, a sizzling tension like electricity or the snap of a whip.

"I've been wondering if you would show up," Zechs said at last, setting down his pen and turning to face him. His expression was blank, but his eyes were ice cold, a frosty winter blue, steely and commanding.

"I'm here to see Relena," he said strongly to cut through the oppressive silence, returning an intense gaze of his own, letting his arms hang at his sides and straightening his back.

"She doesn't need to see you," Zechs replied. "She's heartbroken in her room."

"Zechs," Heero petitioned in the following chill. "I know you don't think I'm not good enough for her. Like you, I've been a soldier all my life, but I've been told I'm capable of more."

"She deserves more than your experimentation," Zechs said with a tone that bit sharply and deeply with heavy sarcasm. Zech's brow contorted as he said it and his eyes hardened into something like glaciers, or cold blue steel. Heero was silent for a moment, absorbing the full capacity of the scorn and disappointment thrown in his face. Heero felt the blow in his gut; it shivered up and down his spine, but he locked his knees and kept his head up. He would at least attempt win Relena back, whatever the cost.

"This is between me and her," he said with control. "You don't have to get involved."

"I had a high respect for you, Heero," Zechs cut in, over-riding him somehow. "I allowed you to protect her in my place. Why did you dishonor her in this fashion?"

"It was not my intention to dishonor her," Heero replied. He smiled. He could say it. "I love her."

To his surprise, Zechs merely pushed away from the table. "So she's told me," he said with scorn.

His mouth parted in surprise as Zechs stood. She had told him? And he still thought...?

"I don't mean to hurt her," Heero tried to clarify, more forcefully, a little more desperately. "I love her, Zechs. I wouldn't have come here if I didn't."

Zechs waved his words away as if they were nothing. "You think that's all there is to it? I know you're jealous," Zechs said. "And I know you care for her and that you know she cares for you. But why in the name of God's green Earth did you think that gave you license to sneak into her bed behind everyone's back?"

He resented that, and knew his expression reflected his resentment. "It wasn't like that..." he protested.

But he felt his confidence being cut down and shredded as Zechs turned on him, eyes flashing in hot anger. Both of his hands landed flat and heavy on the tabletop. "Oh, it wasn't? For God's sake, Heero. I knew you would end up in her bed one day." Heero's mouth dropped open as Zechs stabbed the tabletop with one finger, mouth set in a firm line. "I didn't tell her so, but I saw the two of you together and I knew you would take advantage of her the first opportunity you had."

"I didn't take advantage!" Heero half shouted back, furious. "You make it sound like I used her just to satisfy myself!"

"Didn't you?" Zechs demanded. "Why the hell is she here if you're so in love and everything is going so well? What's the problem?"

Heero stiffened and kept his mouth shut. He was not going to tell Zechs that he did everything in his power to satisfy Relena when they made love. What was the problem? He was worthless, that was the problem. He didn't deserve to make love to her. He didn't deserve to touch her face and hold her in public or in private. But damn it, he needed her, he loved her, and if she was okay with it, he would attempt to rise high enough to love her. Zechs would just have to accept that. "I take care of her," he said defiantly. "I love her, Zechs. I don't take advantage of her. She's the one who wanted it so persistently anyway."

Zechs shook his head, straightening. "Be a man, Heero. You're not a kid anymore and I don't feel sorry for you. You needed something that she offered so you took it. Sexually, emotionally... I don't care if you loved her."

Heero tensed. "What do you mean you don't care...?"

Zechs did not slow or soften his tone. "She was a well-bred lady. She comes from a respected line of kings. She should be courted by princes and shown every honor, given every sentiment."

Heero remained stoically silent on that one. Princes. He thought of Damion, of Taravren. He remembered how strange he felt when he arrived there with Relena, when he remembered how he had come to be with her, his sickness, his desire, his love, all mixed together in a mass of confusing and alarming emotions. He had stabbed an honest and honorable prince for her. He had tried to kill himself because of her. Had he done other things, other things to her in what he thought were for her...?

"I knew you would take her if she let you," Zechs said. "But I thought you respected her."

"I do," Heero said, glowering balefully.

Zech's voice shook with barely contained rage. "Two years, Heero. In secrecy you bedded her for two years, without giving a damn about anybody." Zech's jaw was locked, and his words came out sharply and fell heavily like stones. "She's a princess. She deserves to have a man who will love her the way she deserves, with sincerity, tenderness, strength and honesty. She deserves to be loved for everything she is, publicly, respected for everything she is. And she deserves it from someone who wants to be with her forever. She's always seen herself that way. It's the society she was brought up in, what she was raised to expect. I know she loves you. Nothing else would have caused her to sacrifice so much. And she sacrifices a damn lot for you.  She's always had fears that you would leave her."

Forever. Heero shook, his thoughts whirling in a spiral of rising and falling emotions and ideas that cascaded about him like a waterfall. Her kisses. Her body. Her words. Her smiles. They all intoxicated him, enflamed him. Two years he had indulged in it before he even considered where it was all going. Two years and the idea of marriage absolutely terrified him, so much so he couldn't even admit it to himself until it was shoved under his nose. Instead he delayed and hurt her over and over until he had sabotaged it for them both. Had he done it on purpose, subconsciously? Well, if he did he was only fooling himself. He couldn't live without her now.

"Well?" Zechs demanded.

"I screwed up," he said. He couldn't shake her image. It felt strange not to have her breathing somewhere nearby, not to be able to reach out and grab her, pull her close to him. He was in too deep. He loved her too much. "But I'm willing to make amends. I know I'm not worthy of her."

"No, I wouldn't say you are," Zechs said gruffly

He continued on, burying his reactions, his feelings, as well as he could. "I may not be what she deserves..." he began again steadily, "but..."

"Don't," Zechs growled at him. "You did not come to apologize. I know that. Not that your sympathies would mean much."

He closed his eyes. Why did he come here? It sounded so incredibly unsatisfactory now... "I want to marry her, Zechs." He did not open his eyes to see Zech's reaction. The words almost seemed pulled from him with a hook. He wanted to sink to his knees, in supplication, repentance, for another chance he didn't deserve. "I know I messed up. I know it was wrong to use her that way for so long. But I couldn't explain." His voice was surprisingly even, controlled. "I loved her and I hated the way I loved her." He shook his head.  "I tried to talk to her, but I was too weak." He was not one for words, even now, especially with the sick heaviness in his heart and stomach, like a lump of gray misery.

"You're a sorry case, Heero," Zechs said without an ounce of kindness or pity. "You know it doesn't have the same ring to it now as it would have if you had wanted her with that kind of sincerity the whole time.  I can't even tell if you're sincere now. I can't read a single emotion on your face. How the hell does she deal with you? If you're speaking the truth... Well, you have the strength and dedication of ten men, so don't blame your mistakes on weakness."

Weakness. Perhaps not. What he had done he had done willing or he would not have done it. He loved her, but... "Is it wrong?" he asked. That he desired her shamelessly for so long, without thought to her security and lengthening happiness, yes, but...

"That you love her?" Zechs replied. He frowned, not replying for a moment. At length, he shook his head and waved a dismissive hand. "I don't know. You claim to really love her and I've seen it, but you used her too. I don't approve of the way it happened. I don't approve of the way you used your love as rationalization to please yourself. I don't like how long it went on, behind closed doors, without thought to anyone else. No matter how serious you were, I knew you would end up walking away."

He felt cold inside, and desperate to explain himself. "I'm still here," he said quietly, but it sounded like someone else's voice.

Zechs snorted. "Why are you here, Heero?"

This was frustrating. "Damn it, Zechs! I'm telling you I want to marry her!"

Zechs merely shook his head.

"You don't believe me," Heero said with profound realizations. "I know I'm just a soldier. Maybe that's all you see too, but I love her."

"She sees something different, is that it?" Zechs inferred. "Give me a little credit, Heero. I know you're a man. I can see you standing there. And I know my sister is a woman, but she is still my sister! I grew up wondering about her constantly, trying to protect her as I could. I was a soldier too. That has nothing to do with this conversation. I don't think being a soldier makes you unworthy of any girl. You don't have to be a prince by blood, but with a princess, you better damn well act like one. You're telling me you felt unworthy? True or not, you took something you felt you didn't deserve. And by doing so, you did a dishonor to her and yourself. How could you do that? The point here isn't where you come from!" Zechs was barely beneath a yell now, raging with a coiled ferocity that pounded into Heero's ears heavily. "The point is that you took something you didn't have a right to take and took it without reverence or supplication."

It was too much. "I love her!" he cried angrily, quaking inside, desperate. "I want her too, yes," he admitted, trying to control his tone, lower his voice. "Maybe it's wrong the way it happened, but I want it because I love her. She wanted it too. You have to understand. You married Noin, didn't you? I love Relena, for her sake, for my sake. I can't help it. Everything she is inspires me. I wanted to know her deeper and yes, I took her and yes, it felt wrong, but I won't deny that I loved it and her and I still do! I want the best for her. I wasn't ready then to give the best. I didn't really understand what she needed, what I needed, but I do now. I know she's your sister, Zechs, but I feel about her the way I hope you feel about Noin. I would do anything for her sake. I am here to ask her to marry me."

"Damn right you are," Zechs snarled. "That's the least you could do for her now."

Heero's mouth parted in astonishment, but no words came out. What was Zechs saying?

"This isn't about love, Heero. It's about respect and duty as much as feeling."

Duty? Terror settled in.

"Is she pregnant?" he blurted out.

He saw it coming, but for some reason he did nothing to stop it. Zech's full arm slap hit him in the side of the face and he stumbled sideways, his read ringing, stars dancing before his eyes. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Zechs demanded as he stumbled, blinking though the spots. "No, she isn't pregnant."

Heero froze in shock.

Zechs was silent, breathing for a moment. "Sorry. I lost my temper."

He still couldn't say anything.

Zechs growled. "What do you think marriage is, Heero? A compensation for mistakes? A last resort to continue a relationship?  That's what it sounds like from you."

"No," he said, refusing to rub his jaw. What was he supposed to say?

"No, it isn't," Zechs spat. "But you took all the privileges it entails, didn't you? Damn it, answer me!"

He closed his eyes. "I lived with her, and loved her," he said quietly. "Yes."

"Yeah," Zechs said knowingly, scornfully. "You bastard. All of the benefits without the price that makes it valuable. She's a special kind of girl, Heero," he said. "Not every girl is like her, I know, but you should have known."

He didn't say anything.

"She belongs to you," Zechs said with a tone like resignation. "Do you understand that? You lie with a girl in love, you claim a part of her. She belongs to you. That's why you can walk in here and just demand to speak with her. A girl like her has to become real calloused before she can sleep with any man and just shrug it off.  She loves you with every bone in her body and right now her heart is broken."

Heero closed his eyes.

"Relena is yours," Zechs continued. "I've lost her to you for a long time and you never even came to pay your respects. I expected it to happen, but I didn't know it would go on like this. What did you think it was like, picking a stone up off the street? She's given everything of herself to you, her heart and soul and body, her mind, her care, her love. She loves you so much a blind man could see it. You know it too. You have to feel it."

"I love her too," he said quietly.

"That's no excuse," Zechs said. "I'm tired of hearing you use it like one.  Whether you marry her or not she will always belong to you. She is like a wife stripped of all her titles and honors. She would follow you to the ends of the earth just to keep you close, like a slave if you required it. And you would let her. And you tell me it's because you love her? You're afraid to love her as much as she loves you. You're afraid to commit to her as she has to you, but she can never get over you, Yuy. Wherever you go you will have her heart. Her heart and body go together, because she is a woman. She has less of it to give to anyone else now, because that's just the kind of girl she is. How could you ruin something like that? I did so much to protect her."

"I want to marry her, Zechs," he said desperately, frustrated and unable to express his sincerity. "I understand what you are saying. I can either honor her or cast her off, but I'm telling you I came here because I want to marry her."

"Did you buy her a ring?"

Heero's dire and desperate proclamation faltered...and died.

He'd looked. He came off the plane burning with fever. He'd looked everywhere. He didn't know it would cost so much.

"I can't afford it," he said softly, and shrank back from the expression on Zech's face. That expression told him to get out. Never mind that he would dishonor Relena by leaving her with her brother, damaged and forsaken. He should just go. He'd done enough. "I came here to win her back," he said. "But maybe I can't do that." Maybe all of this was just an airing of Zech's anger, a tribute to the past. Perhaps Zechs never meant to let him near Relena, and did he dare defy him now? He tried to banish thoughts of Relena from his mind. But he couldn't. "I love her with everything I have, Zechs," he said in final supplication, hoping for anything. "It just isn't a lot."  Vaguely, he was aware of tremendous feelings of sadness and despair welling up inside of him.  Unable to fight anymore, he let them come.  "I'm sorry," he said numbly, relenting at last.  "I'm sorry about everything."

Silence. He could feel the pressure in the room.

He turned to go.

"Heero," Zechs halted him suddenly as he put his hand on the door.

He stopped.

"Heero," Zechs continued. "She told me what happened. I'm more angry than I can explain that you broke her this way. First you took her shamelessly, love or no love, and then you made her feel like she wasn't worth the taking. You stopped speaking to her and you treated her like a possession. And when she confessed to you her mistakes in humility and repentance, you made her feel like a criminal. I hate you for that."

He squeezed his eyes shut, fingers clenching. Did he have to hit him all the way out of her life? Something inside him was screaming. No! Not out of her life... And the half of him, the part of him that was still a soldier to the bone was shuffling her out with all the other distractions, building walls and creating spaces, distances...

"But maybe none of that matters, if you have changed or you are willing to be governed," Zechs continued. "I love my wife. I wasn't perfect either. Neither was she. I had my revenge to cling to and I was too blind to see her loyalty. These things are not easy; I never said they were. But what you have to understand that what you must want is forgiveness, not to be excused, because I will not excuse you."

He took in a breath of air and the walls began crumbling. What was he saying?

"What you did to my sister was wrong," Zechs said flatly. "From the beginning it was base and selfish and a dishonor to her. Despite that, I believe that you do love her. But love doesn't justify your misconduct.  Even so, my sister is not stupid. She fell in love with you because she believed you were worth loving. She didn't foresee the end of things; she didn't think that far ahead, but she knew you for who and what you are. She's too good and too pure and too strong to choose someone that did not match her. You're not worthless, Heero. Nor were you ever unworthy of my sister. You did yourself a dishonor by believing you couldn't treat her honorably. It has only hurt the both of you. What I've been trying to badger you into is a sincere apology.  An apology to be the foundation of a change in the way things are going to be from here on out. No more excuses."

Heero turned with a faint glimmer of hope, taking deeper breaths.

"Ask her to marry you if that's what you want," Zechs told him. "Tell her how you feel. Apologize and promise her everything you promised me, but only if you mean it. If you do that, and she agrees, you have my consent to marry her, but you had better be honest and keep every word you utter. Accept your mistakes and make up for them. I can not stand to see her heartbroken. I know you make her happy when you behave yourself, and I do not think I could stop you if you chose to take her anyway."

Hope leaped into his heart like a star from heaven, roaring with a fiery flame. He had Zech's consent. Consent! He'd lived off of beggary and secrets for so long with her, in defiance, in rationalization, that this felt strange. But he now had the opportunity to start over, with the intention of making her his wife in name and reality, to hold her and protect her, to have the privilege to make her happy, to build her a home... He had consent. It felt like a window had been opened to admit a breeze, like cool water pouring in over his head.

He could scarcely breathe. But he felt himself smile with excitement as he turned again to the sliding door, this time with energy and purpose as he turned to go.

"Heero," Zechs called after him darkly. "She doesn't know you are here. She loves you a great deal. If I find out you did or said anything just to get back in her bed, whether you love her or not, I will kill you."

"If that happens," Heero replied over his shoulder. "I deserve to die."



I hope the position of Zechs in this story is understood.  I have an older brother and I honestly think he would behave just like that.