The Mandred Chronicles

Immilie

by zapenstap

Two weeks passed without incident, without trauma, and without anonymity. Gradually, schoolmates became less interested in him and went back to puzzling over their own affairs, but Heero retained communication with Melanie and her friends, mainly through her persistence. It was strange that all of her mannerisms reminded him of Duo and her face and form of Relena. He wasn't interested in her, but he became used to her, like the others back on Earth, and spoke a little more openly. They weren't at all alike, and she made him edgy with her exclamations and grand gestures, but she was nice enough, and persuaded him to like her in spite of everything. Michael was more like him, quiet and watchful in large crowds, but Michael was friendly in ways he wasn't, and enjoyed talk among close friends or small groups. He wasn't actually Melanie's boyfriend, as he found out, but her close friend for many years, and didn't seem to like talking about the lack of anything more. Heero wasn't overly interested, but that was what he gathered from the conversation around him and by watching their interaction. He also noticed that Melanie put out a great deal more enthusiasm than really necessary, and also that she missed school frequently and yet was not harassed by her teachers.

Whenever he returned from school he found it more and more of a refuge. He would get a sense of delight from closing the door on the world and walking up to his room to sit on his bed. And every day Mandred would be there, sometimes arriving in the evening and sometimes beating Heero home. Heero was always asked some question or another, fixed dinner and then either left to do his homework or whatever he wanted, or else coaxed into talking or watching television or a movie. Gradually, he grew used to the routine and stopped worrying about Mandred or his situation.

So it was that Heero walked in the door after school that day and tossed his bag on the couch in the living room. He took his shoes off and left them in the hallway by the door, and laid his jacket over his shoes.

"What are you doing?" Mandred's voice came from the kitchen, sounding amused. Heero jumped. "Pick up your stuff and put it in your room." He froze in wondering surprise. There was no way Mandred could see him. But then, Mandred always seemed to know where he was and some idea of what he was doing.

"Is that your new kid, Mandred?" a woman's voice said pleasantly. Heero started again. He didn't recognize the voice, but he gathered his stuff up in one arm and bolted up to his room without a second thought. Throwing his bag on the bed, he put his shoes and coat back on before heading back downstairs. Mandred would want him to look presentable in front of company. He slowed his pace as he entered the kitchen.

"Heero, there you are," Mandred said as if he had not spoken earlier. "I want you to meet Immilie. She is back from her vacation and has come to meet you."

Heero stopped uncertainly. Immilie sat back in her chair in good posture, her arms resting lightly on the armrests as if they were weightless. She was a beautiful woman with pale skin, clear gray eyes and long, pale blonde hair. She was not tall, five foot three or so, but there something about her presence and grace that made you sit up and take notice. A sort of beauty radiated from her in the way she moved and spoke that had little to do with her physical features. He could tell from her eyes that she was kind and compassionate, but not weak; there was a well-fanned spark of tireless energy hidden in her that shone with its own light. She smiled as she saw him and poured a third cup of tea from a porcelain teapot. Mandred gestured for Heero to sit down and he did so without hesitation. He felt scrubby and awkward next to this woman's grace and shifted uncomfortably. So this was Mandred's girl. Within five minutes he thought her absolutely perfect for him.

"So you are Heero Yuy?" Immilie asked him directly with a smile as she refilled Mandred's cup and then her own.

"Yes, I am," Heero replied, consciously using full words and phrases the way Mandred always did, never "yeah" or "I guess" any other word or phrase that indicated some form of uncertainty. He felt uncharacteristically self-conscious and wanted to make a good impression on this woman.

"I have just returned from Earth," Immilie said lightly. "I met a few acquaintances of yours, I believe, when I traveled to the Cinq Castle. Lucrezia Noin, Zechs Merquise, Relena Darilan?"

"Yes, they are acquaintances of mine," Heero replied more stiffly than he intended. He fished for something conversational to add. "How did you meet with them?" He hoped that wasn't too intrusive. From the corner of his eye, he saw Mandred nod approvingly.

"Coincidence," Immilie replied, sipping her tea. Heero realized he had been ignoring his. There was a great deal more complication to manners than he had realized, but Mandred had been teaching him a little here and there. "I wanted to attend the conference and I ended up speaking to Merquise and Noin afterward. It was natural to be introduced to Miss Darilan. She is quite a marvel, that young girl, not uncommonly pretty, but there's both a graceful and aggressive air about her. It speaks highly of her as a dignitary and a woman. She was much surprised to learn my connections with your guardian and asked a great many questions about how you're doing, none of which I could properly answer I'm sorry to say."

"That's only natural," he said, taking liberty to taste the tea she had poured for him. It had a sharp, sweet flavor. "Considering we..." he was about to say 'haven't met yet' but changed it to the grammatically proper "have not yet met." This was getting easier.

"Indeed," Immilie replied, "so I said." She smiled at him and set down her teacup. She turned to Mandred with something close to a smirk on her face, though it did not detract from her grace. "My dear, you have made amazing strides with this young man." Heero turned to look at Mandred.

"I told you he has good mettle in him," Mandred said. "Haven't you, Heero?"

"What?" Heero said.

"Immilie is saying you have improved tremendously in your manners, though I'm not sure how she would know." Mandred looked shrewdly in her direction, crossing his arms. "You could not do that so quickly if you had not a source of spirit and courage. You've made incredible leaps these last few weeks."

"I have?" He hadn't even realized he'd been trying.

"You have," Manded affirmed.

"And as to how I would know, a woman can recognize these things," Immilie said mysteriously. And annoyingly.  Then she smiled, this time showing her teeth with a hint of mischief. "Really, Mandred, I wonder at your ability to find the best." She looked at Heero. "I see great things in you," she said seriously to him. Then she smiled again. "Don't lose heart and don't grow impatient with Mandred. He can be slow and too methodical at times.  And condescending."

"Ah," Mandred said. "The witticism comes. I knew it wouldn't be long."

"Dearie," Immilie replied around her teacup. "I can't help but to point out your flaws when I get the chance. We have to retain equal footing, you and I."

"Then it is I who would wish to knock you down a few pegs, lady. You're no less than a star to my eye."

"Speech like that will get you nowhere with me," she murmured with a regal air, but her cheeks were flushed and she looked pleased.

Immilie stayed for dinner, much to everyone's delight. Heero already liked her, attracted by her manners and sensitivity mingled with a fiery spirit. Even in her most playfully cutting remarks she remained graceful, and though she was practically Mandred's fiance, she never ignored Heero, talked over his head or condescended in speaking to him. Heero supposed she was what Mandred would call "good." As he watched Mandred and Immilie interact, he grew happier in just remaining quiet and spectating. Their conversation, the very way they moved about each other in setting the table, was like a dance. It seemed to him as if they must have been perfecting how they operated around one another for years. He tried to imagine what it would be like to see them really dance, to imagine Immilie in a party dress or gown. That would be something to see. He remembered clearly what Relena had looked like in her blue party dress and even how she had retained her grace in her school uniform after her father had died and he had danced with her. That seemed a very long time ago.

The dinner Mandred had made that night was, of course, delicious. He had apparently taken time off work to make it and prepare for his girl's homecoming. Heero had expected no less from Mandred and ate with relish. Unconsciously, he stored away the occasion. If he ever needed to entertain important company, he would know how to prepare. No doubt, Mandred had worked that lesson in on purpose. Heero was starting to get the hang of him.

As dinner came to an end, Immile rose from her seat, and following Mandred's cue, Mandred and Heero rose too.

"I must be leaving," she said with a smile. "I will visit you at work tomorrow, Mandred," she said sweetly, crossing the room and taking his hand.

"I'll walk you to your car," he said. She gave him somewhat of a startled look and then laughed. Heero didn't understand why.

"Of course," she murmured, took his arm, and allowed herself to be led out.

Heero sat alone at the table in peaceful contemplation. Shrugging, he stood and began clearing the table. Mandred would appreciate that certainly and it wasn't as if he had any highly pressing activities. Most of his homework he had finished at school. Besides, he felt good. The evening had been good, pleasant and warm. He wanted that to continue and there was a soft, bright feeling rising inside him as he worked to do something nice for someone else. He realized all of a sudden how incredibly kind Mandred had been to him and how everything had changed these last few weeks. Mandred's house was starting to feel like home. He owed Mandred a debt he could never repay. He wondered if this warm, pleasant feeling was the peace other people felt most of the time. As he finished clearing the table, Mandred returned.

"Well," Mandred said somewhat dreamily. "What did you think of my girl?"

"She's wonderful," Heero said truthfully.

"I'm glad you think so too. Some people find her too proper to their taste."

"She's lady-like."

"Yes," Mandred said with a smile. "Not what everyone wants or needs, but I like her." He looked at the table in surprise. "You cleared the table! Thank you."

Heero flushed from the praise. It was such a simple thing. "Mandred," he said abruptly. "This has been a good night."

Mandred nodded. "I agree."

"Is this the way it is for most people most of the time? I feel... at ease. Pleasant."

"So now it is you who starts initiating the discussion, eh? No, I would say most people to do not feel this much niceness most of the time, not if what you're describing is anything like I am describing. Emotions, happiness are flighty things to be treasured while they last, but not to be relied upon for good humor. You will find that if you strive to change your humor, what you are feeling will change with it. First the smile, than the good feelings. There are some people who manage to find a core of contentment that they can find whatever the situation. This is not to say they are happy all of the time, but their general outlook is one of joy rather than depression. But I think very few people can create that for themselves. But it is, I think, what you fought for in the war."

"Peace," he said quietly. This was peace? Not the absence of conflict between peoples, but the pleasant atmosphere, the still heart, the calm mind.

Heero considered this for a moment in silence. Some people could create their own peace, Mandred had said. He felt almost sure Mandred was one of them. Did war even affect such people in the ways it did him and most others? "I was once told to always act on my emotions," he said after a moment.

"If the person who told you that meant to act by what you feel in your heart, it is good advice. But I would argue that emotions themselves are not to be relied upon exclusively and can sometimes even be willfully changed."

"I'm not sure what he meant."

"Then don't worry about it," Mandred replied. Sighing, he stretched out on the couch. "You have a kind heart. Let that and good principles guide you for now and you can untangle the rest of it when you are able." Mandred closed his eyes and began to hum to himself. He must have been thinking about Immilie. Heero watched him for a moment and then went upstairs.

Mandred and Heero saw Immilie again later on that week and then again Sunday night. On Sunday, she brought a surprise with her. Heero was studying in his room when she came to the door, but he heard Mandred's protest clearly.

"No, Immilie, no."

She laughed wickedly. "Oh come, now. I think it would be good for your house. Two men living alone together! There's just not enough activity here."

Heero sat up and set his pencil down. At first, he thought Immilie meant she was going to move in, but that didn't seem very much like her. The next moment he heard a piping shout and a squeal that he was certain belonged to neither Mandred nor Immilie. Then Mandred began to laugh.

"Heero! Come downstairs. Immilie has something for you, or for us rather, I suppose."

Heero jumped off his bed and went downstairs, intensely curious. Immilie stood in the doorway, holding a skirming mass of short black hair. He did a double take and then smiled. It was a puppy. A black labrador, twisting and turning in Immilie's grip. In three steps, Immile walked over to him and deposited the puppy in Heero's arms. He held it a little awkwardly, but the puppy soon writhed its way to his face and stared him right in the eyes. Then it licked his face. Heero laughed and put it down on the floor.

"He's going to ruin the house," Mandred said dubiously. "This is expensive furniture."

Heero knelt and stroked the puppy's neck and back. It curled around, trying to bite his hand, and then scampered around his legs.

"Boys should have a dog," Immilie said firmly.

"Heero's almost a man," Mandred countered.

"Oh, boys will be boys until they're thirty," Immilie said, throwing up her hands. "Sometimes until they die.  Come.  Put aside your stuffy reservations.  He's adorable."

Heero wasn't listening, but he got the impression from Immilie's laugh that she had succeeded and Mandred had agreed to keeping the puppy. It was biting his hand again now, playfully, and making little mock-ferocious growls. He smiled at it.

"Just don't name it Wing Zero," Mandred said.

Immilie chuckled.

Heero lifted the puppy and placed it in his lap. "I don't know what I'll call him," he said, scratching the puppy behind the ears.