A Symphony of Ashes
Part 5/7
By Revena
"I can't just leave it like this. Once upon a time I loved him. Too much to just...."
"Your heart is far too large, Quatre Winner."
He looked at her from under gold bangs, sky blue, deep and full of worry. It was difficult for her to imagine that this kind creature had struck fear into the countless hearts of soldiers, had fought battles of heated medal and crimson blood. She didn't know how he planed to make it though this battle with only his heart and honesty to fight with. How *was* this war of four
people to end she wondered.
Dorothy, will you dance with me just a little longer?
Trying to waltz your way to the moon, are you, Miss Relena?
Is that a yes?
Dorothy paused with her lover before a set of oak doors. Her dance with Relena Dorlain was over. And like any good star-crossed story, the end of the tale meant farewells and a journey that would push and shove it's way, if need be, out of the past and into something new. This was a Good-bye she did not look forward to, but the woman in her, the one that had stumbled blindly into loving a strong willed Relena, refused to leave split ends to the wind.
A slender hand slipped into hers. She glanced down at where they joined, her mood changing from tunnel vision determination to solemn. She had never counted on this when she first met him and would have laughed in the face of anyone who said she'd end-up in a complicated scandal with Quatre Winner. But then she had never counted on falling for a girl fit to be a queen either.
She had failed Relena. Or maybe they had failed each other. Nonetheless she would make this work, hold on to this light as best she could and not let it go. This time the Symphony would not end. This time it would not burn to ashes. Quatre's love and her promise to keep it was the only salvation she had left to offer. That, and an apology that had no hope of mending all the wrongs she had done. But it was a start.
"Are you ready, Dorothy?" Quatre's eyes shone with sympathy but behind that was a quiet strength that told her he was prepared to take whatever lay beyond those two inches of thick oak. She smiled and held her head to a slight angle.
The sun was just barely peeking out over the ocean. Dark clouds rimed the bright sphere, causing a contrast of light and dark over the small still sleeping city. It was like being given a glimpse of heaven from a world of shadows. Trowa leaned on the open windowsill to watch it.
Would he ever make it to such a place? His thoughts came to a pause before they really began as his attention was drawn to a white vehicle pulling up in the drive way. He watched without expression as the two body exited the vehicle and walked up the path together. It seemed that the question of looking for them had been solved. He should have known better. It wasn't in
Quatre to simply leave and not say good-bye. His heart just didn't work that way.
He watched Dorothy's face intently silently wondering what type of person the wars had forged her into. She still wielded that gold mane of hair and lilac eyes that reminded him of his sister's. She was also nervous. Was the former sabotage specialist really so weary of what might wait beyond those doors? In the scheme of things, Trowa didn't blame her.
He let his head fall back on the side the wall as his eyes watched Quatre take her hand and mummer a few words to her. So it really was to end. He didn't need the evidence of a kiss or hug to verify what he already knew. With Quatre, the small gesture of affection was enough.
He slipped off the edge as they disappeared in. Walking to the closet he pulled out a pair of dark slacks and a black short sleeve shirt. Barefoot he padded silently to the side of the twin size bed to wake its occupant. She lay in sleeping disarray of sand colored hair, pale skin and white sheets. The Minister was not what he would call beautiful. She was more elegant then
that with a solid will that kept her back strait and chin up in defiance of what people said. Relena Dorlain was like a painting he decided. Something you had to look at time and time again to see what was there. He had to wonder how the Minister would handle what was about to happen. What would she show him this time?
"Relena. Relena, wake up."
The woman in question answered him with an unlady like groan as she slowly came to full awakness.
"What is it?"
"Quatre and Dorothy are here."
Her face held an unreadable expression. He waited for her to say something but was met with a pensive stare. He should have said something comforting .
"I'll get you some clothes."
Relena could only nod a mute thanks as she tried to call upon some force of will to keep the tears and anger at bay. For her, morning had come far, far too soon.
Quatre held her hand in his as much for her assurance as his. Outside he was calm and controlled, but inside was a completely different story. Apprehension and guilt twisted in him. He could feel Dorothy's eyes on him, emotion she would not let show tightening her hold. He turned and gave her a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"I'm not going to leave you Dorothy." He touched her cheek. "I promise."
The blond walked into the large living room, Dorothy at his side. Time seemed to sand still at the sight of Trowa and Relena coming down the star case. But Relena's presence was little more than a breath that passed over his awareness, not while Trowa's eyes bore into his. For a breathless moment every word they had ever shared, every moment he'd ever had with the pilot came back to him in a rush, stinging his heart and twisting a soul that was
already too weary.
You can let go, Trowa. I would never hurt you
It's not me I'm worried about
At twenty-four Quatre was still a person of tears. Seeing the one he'd loved since he was fifteen made the dampness in his eyes blur his vision. Knowing he'd hurt him in the worse possible way tightened his chest. The blond Arab didn't like how this had happened or how it was about to end. He hadn't meant for the space to grow between them and the ash of burnt promises to sever them apart. He never wanted for what they had, to bleed like it did.
"Trowa," he said.
"Quatre."
Dorothy slipped away and followed Relena into the side room. There was an unbearable silence.
"Trowa, I'm-" he started
"No apologies, Quatre." Trowa reached out and touched the side of his face with severe reverence. "We're past those, I think."
"I'm not sure what happened between us," the blond spoke. "I don't know ."
The former 03 pilot with drew his hand, searching for the right words. But what did one say to a dream that died?
"Quatre...you..gave me comfort when I deserved no comfort. Gave yourself to me when I deserved no gifts...I..." This was harder then he thought it would be. "I loved you, I think a part of me will always belong to you. We were a lot like that ocean you love so much. Always moving, always changing."
Quatre...
Yes, Trowa?
Do you think its possible to actually be a part of someone forever?
I want to be a part of you forever, Trowa. So it has to be possible.
"We moved and we changed. There can be no 'I'm sorry's' for that. "
Trowa reacted in time to catch Quatre in his arms and stubbornly refused to acknowledge the dampness in his eyes. Please, Quatre he thought, please tell me you love her. Tell me the looks I saw you giving her were real. Because if those were real...
"Tell me she makes you happy, Quatre. Tell me and I can let go." And maybe he'd salvage what was left of himself and find contentment.
Because if those were real...
He felt Quatre's tears dampen his neck and held him tighter, surrendering to the feel of Quatre's arms around him one last time. Waiting to burn it into his memory and not let it go.
"Yes, she makes me happy. I love her. Some times I wish I didn't, but I do." Trowa pushed himself away and held the blonde's face, searching his eyes, trying desperately to find the words he needed. This was never a battle he was never good at fighting.
Then *they* had been real. Then that was all that mattered
Could that be it? Would that be all it took, five little utterances that bubbled in his chest? For a split second, that could have been the moment people talk of before they die, the one moment that felt like a million years, he wondered if salvaging their broken dreams and mending the shattered pieces of a marriage that tested every limit there was, could be done. But Quatre's eyes were his soul. They always had been, had he taken the time to read them as he did now. And Trowa saw what they said. Dorothy was the one that kept him in the sunlight, where he belonged. It was Dorothy's love that became Quatre's sea.
I love the ocean, Trowa. It's not like endless sand at all. It's like a living thing with emotions, possible of both love and hate. Not just dry and unforgiving.
Trowa swallowed his emotions, let them struggle on the way down to his middle and pulled back the dampness that threatened to betray the promise he'd made to himself so long ago; to never cry.
"Then that's all that matters."
"The cure for anything is salt water-sweat, tears, or the sea."
~Isak Dinesen
All most to the end people ^^. Many thanks to everyone who has reviewed not only this fic but my other ones as well. Your feed back encourages me to write more and the fact you all take the time to just tell me what you think of the pairing this time, means a whole lot. You guys are the best. Come visit my page ne? Updates there happen a lot faster then my works on here do ><;;
my page