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Long Lost
Disclaimer: I still don't own GW or any of its characters. I tried, but Evilnmalice outbid me. (Fortunately it didn't pay up, so it doesn't own them either.)
Warnings: None
Pairings: so far, only 3x4, we'll see how things develop
Archive: Desolation Angels.
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Chapter Two: Fragments of Mystery
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The issue, for Quatre, who was currently engaged in pacing back and forth across the thick Persian rug in the sitting room, was not that he had a sister. He already had twenty-nine of those, fully half of whom he probably wouldn't recognise in a crowd; one more hardly made a difference.
It was the story running beneath the surface that had him tied up in knots.
He'd known for a long time that all of his sisters were half-siblings to some degree or other; test tube babies who shared the same biological father but came from a variety of mothers' egg cells. His own mother, Quatrina, had refused this method of childbirth, despite the difficulties inherent in having babies in space at the time, and thus had died in birthing him. None of this had been easy for Quatre to come to grips with at the time, but time, war, and inability to change the past had worked their magic til he no longer worried over it.
Now, though, it was all returning, and with it came speculation. Relena was older than he, if by less than a year. What would have made the Queen of the Sanq Kingdom leave her home, her people, and her new baby daughter and flee to the space colonies--only long enough to have another baby to the leader of said colony? She couldn't have been there for more than a month before conceiving him.
He sank onto the sofa and dropped his head into his hands, rubbing fists into weary eyes. The more he learned about them, the more he felt he didn't know his family at all.
Relena, he found, had known even less than he did. The Sanq Kingdom had fallen when she was too little to remember it, and she had been adopted by Vice Foreign Minister Darlien. She hadn't known she /was/ a Peacecraft until he imparted the secret to her with his dying breath, and she hadn't wanted to believe it even then. She and Zechs had returned to the ruins of their ancestral home, to make peace with it and lay the ghosts to rest. Zechs had found the picture for her, because she'd never seen her mother, and as soon as she laid eyes on it, she'd recognised Quatre's features staring back at her.
It had shaken her as much as it had him, and she called him almost immediately. That call had led to the previous night's visit, when she showed him the picture and he confirmed their mother's identity.
Neither of them were sure what to do next. While they had tentatively suggested forgetting the entire matter and live on in pretense of ignorance, neither really considered it. There were too many unanswered questions, secrets lying hidden beneath the veneer of idealistic respectability claimed by both eminent pacifist families. They had uncovered a mystery, the only path to peace of mind was to solve it.
Relena had returned home that morning, promising that now her suspicions were confirmed, she would go hunting for clues. Quatre, remembering how effective Relena could be when she was being persistent, held onto the faith that she'd uncover something.
He promised to do the same, which is why he was pacing, impatient, waiting for Iria.
It was after lunchtime by the time she arrived, troubled enough by the disquiet in his face and voice that she spared him the usual teasing barbs she greeted him with. "All right, Quatre," she asked, settling into the fireside chair, "what's the matter?"
"I need to know whatever you remember about my mother," he answered.
It startled her, though she hid it well, and he heard the word 'Why?' almost escape her lips til she bit it back. A sigh, then, her eyes closing briefly as she summoned old memories. "Not very much. I was your age, Quatre, and on my way to university back on Earth. I only really talked to her once." He waited, silent, til she continued. "All right, I'll try. I remember when Father first brought her home--she was very quiet, and a little sad I think. She mostly kept to the house, which is why I didn't see much of her. Before I left for Earth I asked her what it was like there, that was the only conversation we ever had. She said it was beautiful, but torn up by war. I kind of got the idea she'd been trying to escape it." One shoulder quirked in an apologetic shrug. "I'm sorry, Quatre, that really is all I know. I couldn't get to know her any better--I was gone that year, and when I got back she was gone and there you were."
Quatre nodded. It was what he'd expected, no more and no less. "Thanks."
"Quatre..." Iria leaned forward in the chair, resting her chin on folded hands. "What's all this about? Is it something to do with Relena's coming yesterday?"
He shrugged. "Yes...I'll explain it all to you once I get it figured out for myself." He'd been perched on the arm of the sofa, now he let himself fall backward onto it, sprawling. He needed to clear his head, he decided. Run through his options with someone who could convince him he was overreacting, calm his whirling mind, and help him decide on a suitable, sensible course of action. He had a distinct preference as to who that someone could be. "Iria..?"
"Yes, you should go talk it over, no, he won't mind, and he forwarded a new contact number yesterday," his sister answered without ever hearing the question. "Go get packed, I'll work out the flight arrangements."
"Am I that transparent?" Quatre asked, laughing. Even though Trowa always made sure Quatre could reach him, in case there was an emergency, he'd never had to use the information before.
And while this didn't quite qualify as an emergency, he was certain Iria was right. Trowa was hardly likely to object to the visit. And even if he hadn't been so desperate for his lover to help put his head back on straight, it would have been a good excuse, wouldn't it? He practically skipped to his room, and started packing.