TITLE: Know Thy Enemy (1/1)
AUTHOR: Shenlong the_solitary_dragon@hotmail.com
ARCHIVE: Fanfiction.net, my site (the_solitary_dragon.tripod.com) when I learn more HTML and have time to put it up
CATEGORY: General
PAIRINGS: Mentioned 13 +/x 6
RATINGS: PG
SPOILERS: Some, but not excessive-if you've seen the show or read the manga, you'd probably know it anyway
WARNINGS: None, really. Light yaoi, if you insist. Very slightly angsty. A bit PWP, I guess
DISCLAIMER: Gundam Wing does not belong to me, obviously, and you're delusional if you think it does. I'm not writing this for any kind of profit, save my own entertainment (and hopefully my readers'), and maybe getting better at writing.
SUMMARY: Treize's thoughts about the Gundam pilots, Zechs, the war, and life in general-a contemplative-type fic
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I dunno where this came from. The plot bunny was annoying my muse, so I wrote this to get it hopping away. Poor Dragonheart…
~*~*~*~
Treize drank lightly from a glass of red wine, thinking about the war.
War…it is but a thread in the tapestry of history, a step in an endless waltz.
Yes, a waltz is what life is. One step brings war. Another brings peace. Yet another brings a depression, or a growth. An endless circle, like a ring. As you go through human history, you find the same occurrences. Peace. War. Famine. Plague. Death.
It wasn't true what some thought of him, our OZ commander. He had a heart. He did not like to see human lives wasted so. But he did believe that this was the lesser of two evils. After humans see this war, why should they ever want to return?
Flashes of light. Flashbacks of memory-pictures of a lost little girl, orphaned by war. A mortally wounded soldier, begging for Death to come. People he was sworn to protect, dead because of him.
The Gundam pilots. They were the key to the end of this madness. The enemy? Not in as many words. They will revolutionize the world. And they will bring peace. The true crafters of peace.
Peacecraft. Milliardo, his best friend, after all this time. His ex-lover. It hurt him when he self-exile himself from Sanq, almost certain that he was not to see his sister again. It hurt when he knew that Relena would make a much better leader than he, a better ruler, minister, a better icon and role model to the people. He thought his hands were stained with blood.
He was wrong.
To compare Zechs Marquise to the Gundam pilots is like comparing a red rose to a perfect, white water lily. Both are beautiful in their own respects. But, which one holds the innocence needed to bring peace? The rose, with its prickly, protective outer wall thorns? Or the water lily, with the soft petals and enticing purity?
Innocence was relative. There was no innocence in war. There was power, brutality, and greed. A thirst to take over, a lust to win. War does horrible things to people. It makes them face reality, makes them see outside of their own little bubbles. War is horrible.
Heero Yuy. The boy was the Perfect Soldier, yet still a boy. He was perfectly capable of destroying a complete OZ base, with nothing more than a slightly guilty conscience. He could kill two highly-trained men in less than half an hour, with his bare hands. He was a master at hacking and technology, and there was not much in the world that could affect his conscience. It wasn't his fault, Treize knew. Dr. J denied him his human emotions, instead having him feel nothing-like a robot.
Forget about innocence. Heero was anything but.
Grief is inevitable. Everyone loses in war. Whether it's their brother, father, husband, uncle, friend-it is rare to find a person who has not lost to the war.
The one who calls himself Duo Maxwell is an enigma. By all common sense, he should hate fighting, hate that which took the only family he knew away. And perhaps this was so. But his mask, so carefully in place to the world, so complete I doubt many can actually see it, much less see through it-it hides, and conceals, yet reveals much.
Duo Maxwell should hate war. But he calls himself the God of Death, and fights. Why?
The past is preserved in our memories and written records. Yet, with all the histories of mankind, and as much as we study them all, why do we persist in fighting? Do we not learn from mistakes? Have we no history at all?
The persona of Trowa Barton is nothing more than another elaborately carved mask, that Treize was sure of. The utterly emotionless demeanor had yet to have been broken, the calm face never showing surprise, happiness, or grief. Who, one has to wonder, would ultimately have the honor of seeing the true Trowa?
Love has no place on a battlefield. It can weaken a force, drive a man mad by sheer willpower. It can make the strongest soldier hesitate, make the weaker ones lose all courage. Yet it can also help. As love is a weakness, it is a strength, a pillar of stability in the turbulent times, an anchor to the ground.
Treize always thought that the Winner family was comprised of pacifists. As much as the father spoke out against war, it would seem right to reason that the son would also. But Quatre was a ray of light on the battlefield, challenging anyone who dare say that kindness and mercy have no place in war. His utter ruthlessness at times was contradicted by his gentle behavior at others.
It can be argued that Quatre was the strongest of the pilots, though no one would believe it looking at him. Delicate features belie a tough, determined core-why so many masks?
"Pride cometh before the fall." Many a soldier fought because of pride. Some decided that it was their nationalistic duty to fight their enemy, others wanted to prove themselves, perhaps to an prospective spouse, or disapproving relatives.
It is sometimes hard to keep pride separate from overconfidence. But there is a big difference-overconfidence can get you killed.
Ah, yes. The last Gundam pilot-Chang Wufei. One wonders, sometimes, was he as withdrawn before the war? Was the persona of the arrogant prince in place then? Haughty, slightly conceited. Never touching. Sometimes, he looks down upon people, as if they're not good enough. Other times, he is able to act with the utmost politeness and propriety, with all the poise and flair of a practiced noble.
Pride is a tricky thing. It makes itself known in the most annoying ways possible-little voices in your head that seem to keep on cheering you on, the slightly alarming feeling that you're better than others. Who can you believe? What is good for you, and what makes you overconfident (and therefore careless)?
Was Wufei overconfident? It was hard to tell. That night…that night when he came out of his Gundam to challenge Treize to a duel…did he truly believe he would win? Or did he have a death wish, a morbid need to die, not in a mobile suit, but at the hands of a living, breathing human being. One could almost say he didn't care about his life, throwing it away day by day…
Ah, the Gundam boys. The source of many an entertainment to Treize, if not to Une and his other subordinates. Yet, did no one in OZ see them for their selves, and not as what they appeared to be? Sucks for his officers, then-it would really hurt to bet beaten only because the advisors were idiots and couldn't read people if their lives depended on it.
War. Peace. Revolution. The neverending circle of human history.
It was up to them to end the war. And perhaps, finally, this will be the war to end all wars. The end of a beginning, the beginning of a reign of peace.
Treize languidly swirled the wine around in the champagne flute. How ironic, almost-he did not think that OZ would end the wars-he thought the pilots would.
Trust. The ultimate gift.
What were those two proverbs again? Oh, yes…
Know thy enemy.
Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.
Yes…the future will be bright.
~OWARI~
AUTHOR: Shenlong the_solitary_dragon@hotmail.com
ARCHIVE: Fanfiction.net, my site (the_solitary_dragon.tripod.com) when I learn more HTML and have time to put it up
CATEGORY: General
PAIRINGS: Mentioned 13 +/x 6
RATINGS: PG
SPOILERS: Some, but not excessive-if you've seen the show or read the manga, you'd probably know it anyway
WARNINGS: None, really. Light yaoi, if you insist. Very slightly angsty. A bit PWP, I guess
DISCLAIMER: Gundam Wing does not belong to me, obviously, and you're delusional if you think it does. I'm not writing this for any kind of profit, save my own entertainment (and hopefully my readers'), and maybe getting better at writing.
SUMMARY: Treize's thoughts about the Gundam pilots, Zechs, the war, and life in general-a contemplative-type fic
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I dunno where this came from. The plot bunny was annoying my muse, so I wrote this to get it hopping away. Poor Dragonheart…
~*~*~*~
Treize drank lightly from a glass of red wine, thinking about the war.
War…it is but a thread in the tapestry of history, a step in an endless waltz.
Yes, a waltz is what life is. One step brings war. Another brings peace. Yet another brings a depression, or a growth. An endless circle, like a ring. As you go through human history, you find the same occurrences. Peace. War. Famine. Plague. Death.
It wasn't true what some thought of him, our OZ commander. He had a heart. He did not like to see human lives wasted so. But he did believe that this was the lesser of two evils. After humans see this war, why should they ever want to return?
Flashes of light. Flashbacks of memory-pictures of a lost little girl, orphaned by war. A mortally wounded soldier, begging for Death to come. People he was sworn to protect, dead because of him.
The Gundam pilots. They were the key to the end of this madness. The enemy? Not in as many words. They will revolutionize the world. And they will bring peace. The true crafters of peace.
Peacecraft. Milliardo, his best friend, after all this time. His ex-lover. It hurt him when he self-exile himself from Sanq, almost certain that he was not to see his sister again. It hurt when he knew that Relena would make a much better leader than he, a better ruler, minister, a better icon and role model to the people. He thought his hands were stained with blood.
He was wrong.
To compare Zechs Marquise to the Gundam pilots is like comparing a red rose to a perfect, white water lily. Both are beautiful in their own respects. But, which one holds the innocence needed to bring peace? The rose, with its prickly, protective outer wall thorns? Or the water lily, with the soft petals and enticing purity?
Innocence was relative. There was no innocence in war. There was power, brutality, and greed. A thirst to take over, a lust to win. War does horrible things to people. It makes them face reality, makes them see outside of their own little bubbles. War is horrible.
Heero Yuy. The boy was the Perfect Soldier, yet still a boy. He was perfectly capable of destroying a complete OZ base, with nothing more than a slightly guilty conscience. He could kill two highly-trained men in less than half an hour, with his bare hands. He was a master at hacking and technology, and there was not much in the world that could affect his conscience. It wasn't his fault, Treize knew. Dr. J denied him his human emotions, instead having him feel nothing-like a robot.
Forget about innocence. Heero was anything but.
Grief is inevitable. Everyone loses in war. Whether it's their brother, father, husband, uncle, friend-it is rare to find a person who has not lost to the war.
The one who calls himself Duo Maxwell is an enigma. By all common sense, he should hate fighting, hate that which took the only family he knew away. And perhaps this was so. But his mask, so carefully in place to the world, so complete I doubt many can actually see it, much less see through it-it hides, and conceals, yet reveals much.
Duo Maxwell should hate war. But he calls himself the God of Death, and fights. Why?
The past is preserved in our memories and written records. Yet, with all the histories of mankind, and as much as we study them all, why do we persist in fighting? Do we not learn from mistakes? Have we no history at all?
The persona of Trowa Barton is nothing more than another elaborately carved mask, that Treize was sure of. The utterly emotionless demeanor had yet to have been broken, the calm face never showing surprise, happiness, or grief. Who, one has to wonder, would ultimately have the honor of seeing the true Trowa?
Love has no place on a battlefield. It can weaken a force, drive a man mad by sheer willpower. It can make the strongest soldier hesitate, make the weaker ones lose all courage. Yet it can also help. As love is a weakness, it is a strength, a pillar of stability in the turbulent times, an anchor to the ground.
Treize always thought that the Winner family was comprised of pacifists. As much as the father spoke out against war, it would seem right to reason that the son would also. But Quatre was a ray of light on the battlefield, challenging anyone who dare say that kindness and mercy have no place in war. His utter ruthlessness at times was contradicted by his gentle behavior at others.
It can be argued that Quatre was the strongest of the pilots, though no one would believe it looking at him. Delicate features belie a tough, determined core-why so many masks?
"Pride cometh before the fall." Many a soldier fought because of pride. Some decided that it was their nationalistic duty to fight their enemy, others wanted to prove themselves, perhaps to an prospective spouse, or disapproving relatives.
It is sometimes hard to keep pride separate from overconfidence. But there is a big difference-overconfidence can get you killed.
Ah, yes. The last Gundam pilot-Chang Wufei. One wonders, sometimes, was he as withdrawn before the war? Was the persona of the arrogant prince in place then? Haughty, slightly conceited. Never touching. Sometimes, he looks down upon people, as if they're not good enough. Other times, he is able to act with the utmost politeness and propriety, with all the poise and flair of a practiced noble.
Pride is a tricky thing. It makes itself known in the most annoying ways possible-little voices in your head that seem to keep on cheering you on, the slightly alarming feeling that you're better than others. Who can you believe? What is good for you, and what makes you overconfident (and therefore careless)?
Was Wufei overconfident? It was hard to tell. That night…that night when he came out of his Gundam to challenge Treize to a duel…did he truly believe he would win? Or did he have a death wish, a morbid need to die, not in a mobile suit, but at the hands of a living, breathing human being. One could almost say he didn't care about his life, throwing it away day by day…
Ah, the Gundam boys. The source of many an entertainment to Treize, if not to Une and his other subordinates. Yet, did no one in OZ see them for their selves, and not as what they appeared to be? Sucks for his officers, then-it would really hurt to bet beaten only because the advisors were idiots and couldn't read people if their lives depended on it.
War. Peace. Revolution. The neverending circle of human history.
It was up to them to end the war. And perhaps, finally, this will be the war to end all wars. The end of a beginning, the beginning of a reign of peace.
Treize languidly swirled the wine around in the champagne flute. How ironic, almost-he did not think that OZ would end the wars-he thought the pilots would.
Trust. The ultimate gift.
What were those two proverbs again? Oh, yes…
Know thy enemy.
Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.
Yes…the future will be bright.
~OWARI~