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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: 3x4, 1+C, 2xOC
Archive: Desolation Angels. Previous parts can be found at http://www.dreamwater.net/ashura/LongLost.html
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Chapter Thirteen: The Past Steps Softly
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"I wondered when you would come back, child," he said warmly, reaching out a hand to draw her near. Relena approached Peygan's chair and dropped to her knees beside it, clasping his cold hand in her own. "What questions have you for me then tonight?"
Relena slipped a folded paper from her pocket--one of the copies Duo had made of the magazine spread detailing the aftermath of Philip Cressida's death. "Did you know him?" she asked.
A long sigh left his lips, an exhalation of pain and regret and sorrow. "Yes, of course...." His hand strayed over the surface of the grainy print, as if history were almost within his withered fingers' grasp. "Where did you find this?"
"Duo found it. At the library." Relena rocked back on her heels, waiting, patient, til he could look up and meet her eyes without the sting of tears at their edges. "This was why Sanq was crumbling, wasn't it? Peygan...please, tell me what happened."
The old man merely nodded, closing his eyes briefly, as if to shield his mind against the onslaught of painful memories. Relena curled at his feet, the fire warming her back, til at last he began to weave the tale.
"When your mother first came to marry your father," he explained, "she was accompanied by her elder brother--a dashing, handsome, energetic young man who charmed the entire court as easily as she did. His head was full of fancies and adventures, and one of his fondest dreams was to leave earth and aid his friend and former schoolmate in running a resource satellite in the L-4 cluster.
"But he never did go...he was too attached to her, and to Sanq itself, and his duty would never allow him to leave. He was a very public person, the way Katrina was not--she never was comfortable with people prying into her affairs, poor thing. And pry they would, because she was the Queen, and the world seemed to believe that made her life public property. But Philip didn't mind the spotlight at all, and he directed it away from her and onto himself whenever he could."
"Is that why Louis challenged him?" Relena asked, enthralled.
Peygan shook his head sadly. "No...you've heard wrong, I'm afraid. It was Philip who challenged Louis. You see, Louis Catalonia had been a snake in the nest for a long time--he undermined the King's wishes, spread his poison through the court, told anyone who would listen how outdated and obsolete the wish for total peace was. He said the King and Queen were clinging to a crumbling hope and leading the nation to its own destruction. At first Philip wanted to try him for treason, but there was no concrete evidence. So he did the only thing he could think of, stupid as it was. He challenged him to a duel. And he was killed."
The firelight glinted off the telltale shine of tears in the old man's eyes, and Relena reached up to lay her hand across his arm. He patted it comfortingly. "It was a long time ago," he whispered, though she wasn't sure if he meant it to her, or to himself.
"Louis thought he had proved his cause when he won the duel," he continued, lost once more in the past. "But there he had miscalculated--the nation, indeed the world, was in love with Philip, and they were too deep in mourning for him to listen to anything the man who killed him had to say. The funeral was held in the courtyard at the mansion, child, and it was as full as the laws of physics allowed for. For days, people sat vigil with candles outside the gates." He flicked a hand surreptitiously across his eyes, as if she wouldn't notice he wiped away tears. "The funeral was the first time any of us met Haroun Winner. He stood by your parents and grieved with them, and added his speech to theirs when they reaffirmed their devotion to pacifism. And he made your mother promise to ask him for help or sanctuary should she ever feel threatened or need protection.
"But Louis still wanted a revolution, still craved war. He wanted the Sanq kingdom to be a military power, claimed the King could unite all the earth's nations under a single government if he only tried. But there would never be any moving your father, Relena, he was too committed. So Louis took his case to the Queen instead. I don't know why--she hated him as much as she was capable of hating anyone, I can't imagine she was civil, let alone receptive to his ideas. But she did...change, after that. I can only imagine she fought with your father, because they were never so close again."
"I remember that." The hard, tight voice from the doorway startled them both, as Zechs padded toward them in a loose shirt and trousers, his eyes all but hidden behind a mask of platinum hair. "I heard them arguing," he explained, never quite meeting their eyes. "You were a baby then, Relena. That was part of it--she wanted to kill him, you know. She asked Father too, and he refused. He said he was a pacifist and couldn't murder any man, even an evil one. Mother said it was only survival to kill a snake lying in your bed."
He took position against the wall, his arms crossed protectively across his chest. "She told him he must fight, whether he would or not, to protect his children. He said he could not, /because/ of those same children. She ran out of the room crying, and I have never forgotten it." Finally, sorrowful ice-blue orbs flickered to meet Relena's gaze. "And maybe, little sister, that is why I am the soldier and you are not."