Wasteland Warlord Camp, Calabria
"The scouts have reported that we are being followed."
Arora finished sifting through her wet hair and tied it back. "Are they imperial troops?"
"No. The group is small. I think it is the man who was about to purchase you."
Arora sighed and reached for her sword. "It is a pity he will have to die. He saved my life."
"Perhaps I should sell you to him."
Arora looked at the man across the tent from, sitting cross-legged with a sword on his lap. Because of his mask, she couldn't tell if he was joking or not. "If you do, I will kill him and come back for you."
He laughed. "You are more trouble than you are worth."
Arora was so tired and aching that she was not in a mood for his jests. She lay down, resting her cheek against the blade of her sword. The cool metal soothed a bruise on her face. "You should have left me to die in the wastelands."
"I couldn't do that."
"We have to move the camp," she remarked. "Dilan saw me. He knows I am alive now, and thanks to your little attack, he will know where to find me."
"I don't really care to be captured either, but I am not worried about that bastard." He moved across the tent to her and soon enough she felt his hand against her cheek, then moving slowly down over her aching body. Arora closed her eyes as healing warmth flowed over her from his touch.
"You shouldn't do that," she murmured although it felt so good.
"I can't help myself."
"Dilan will tell Dax that I am alive since he was prevented from buying me," she murmured, knowing that her father was the man to fear. "He still has the right to kill me." Then she repeated, "You should not do this."
He moved away and took up his sword. "I would kill Dax before I allow you to fall under his control again."
Arora closed her eyes. "I'm so tired of fighting. There is nothing to fight for anymore."
He didn't respond because he knew it was true. There had been hope and a reason to fight several weeks ago, but that had died with the beginning of a new life. Arora could not stop the tears that gathered, then spilled from the corners of her eyes. She had failed miserably. Part of her wanted to die on that auction block, but her imperial pride made her fight such an ignoble death.
A whimpering that sounded like a mewling kitten made her squeeze her eyes tightly shut. "Get rid of it!"
"I do not have the right! Do something with it!" He rose and stalked angrily from the tent.
Arora put her hands over her ears to shut out the noise, but she couldn't do it. Heart aching, she crawled across the tent until she reached the source of the noise. For a moment she sat beside it, not looking at it or touching it, then she shrugged the robe from one of her shoulders and carefully lifted the squirming bundle.
She watched as it nuzzled its warm face against her breast before finding what it was looking for and Arora flinched as it began to take nourishment. Arora stared as it sucked, wishing she had the right to end its life before it suffered the same fate of all females. There was nothing but misery and pain and humiliation in her future. She shouldn't even have a future!
When the baby finished, Arora cleaned and changed it, forcing herself not to feel anything. But she could not stop her memory of agonizing shame when she realized the child she had brought into the world was not the male who could challenge Dilan's right to the throne, but a useless, weak female who could not even draw her first breath without Apolo's assistance. When she demanded to know why he had breathed life into the dying infant, he told her he had no choice, that she had called out for him. Since then, Arora had been obligated to keep it alive. Only the infant's father could decide her fate, and he would never know. The nameless female was doomed to live a wretched life in the Wastelands until the day she was purchased and used.
The tent flap moved as Arora replaced the now contentedly sleeping child in the bundle that served as its bed. She turned to the woman who had entered. "The warlord orders that you to stay inside. There are strangers in the camp."
The man who followed from the village must have arrived. She felt guilty for attacking him as she had, but he was probably no better than the others who tried to outbid him for her. His ridiculous bids proved to her that his over-eagerness would not be good for her. Arora could well imagine where she would be this moment and what she would be forced to do had not the warlord attacked the village: on her back as he tried to breed a male off her. She had been stupid for allowing herself to be captured in the first place. But when the raiders from the village came upon the women washing clothing at a stream, Arora tried to defend them and ended up being taken with them. All her attempts to save them had failed, and she came to the bitter conclusion that she was no better off than they were. Despite all her training, she was a female, born to be bred, and she had even failed at that.
Another of his woman slipped inside. "They are going to fight for you," she said with a toss of her blond hair. "If the Warlord loses, the stranger will take you."
The Warlord wouldn't lose, thought Arora. He was a well-trained imperial guard, and the stranger hadn't seemed threatening. Arora thought about watching the fight, but she decided to stay in the tent. She didn't really want to see the innocent stranger who had saved her life now lose his own.
The clash of steel was unnerving, and she listened as the Warlord's men wagered on the outcome, mostly how long it would be before he killed his opponent. Arora busied herself by folding his robes, ignoring the two women who chattered and giggled as she did the work. Useless females, thought Arora. They had only one purpose, and it took the two of them keep him amused. As the joking nature of the men's voices outside the tent wore away to concern then silence, Arora snapped at the females to be quiet as she listened to the now intense clanging of steel. She began to worry. He had never fought this long or hard with any opponent who dared to challenge his right to protect the Wastelands, and he had recently used his powers to heal her, leaving himself weak. What kind of man fought so fiercely for a woman he did not even know just because he had purchased her for one hundred zenos? What kind of man purchased a female for anything above five zenos?
Arora reached for her sword as she concluded the man must have been one of the imperials with Dilan. She might have to protect herself. There was now silence among the Warlord's men, and she stood, holding the sword before her. Apolo's women scampered out of the tent, and Arora waited tensely to find out the outcome. She would not submit to the imperial stranger, and if the Warlord were killed, she would kill the stranger or die trying.
One last gasp and the clanging of swords ceased. Arora could hear the two useless females wailing, and she had to bite back her own tears.
"Shamara!"
She had been right! The man's shout of the imperial battle cry shot through her to her toes, but she held the sword steady in her hands as she stared at the opening of the tent. The baby was whimpering behind her, but Arora stood her ground waiting.
Suddenly the flap opened, and she watched as the cloaked stranger ducked inside, carrying the bleeding body of the Warlord, which he dumped at her feet. There were several wounds; the most serious in his side from which oozed blood. Arora wanted to go to him, but she held her sword before her as she faced the stranger.
"You will have to kill me, too," she stated fiercely.
But he tossed aside his own bloodstained sword and reached up to yank at the robes shrouding his face. When the cloth dropped to his shoulders, the sword waivered in her hands, then fell to her feet. Her heart seemed to stop beating.
"Trey!" She could not believe she was seeing the face of her beloved, just as many months ago, in a place far from here, she saw a man she believed was dead. But this time she did not doubt that the man who glared at her was the man to whom she had given her heart and soul.
"Make your good-byes to your lover. You are coming with me."
"Lover?" she repeated in a daze, then followed his gaze to the bleeding body at her feet. "Oh no!" She dropped to her knees, and ripping cloth from her own robe, she tried to stop the flow of blood.
"Arora," she heard him murmur hoarsely, the sound echoing eerily from inside his mask.
"You're going to be all right." She tried to sound convincing as she fumbled with the latch to his mask. She didn't have the powers he did, so she was frightened for him.
"Leave him!" ordered Trey. The men outside were restless and furious that he had defeated their lord. Trey doubted they had the honor to allow him to escape, nor did he think they would accept his leadership. His companions were waiting for him outside. Trey had one plan now, and that was to take Arora and wait for Maeryn to return to get him away from Calabria. He wasn't about to wait for Arora to soothe her dying lover.
He reached down to grab her arm, but drew quickly back in time to avoid the sharp blade of a dagger she must have had hidden amongst her robes. Trey was angry and hurt by her aggression. Her foolishness was delaying their escape, and has concerned for the safety of his friends. Punishment would have to wait.
Arora put aside the dagger, and Trey was about to seize her and throw her over his shoulder to leave, but she unsnapped the catch to the warlord's mask and it swung open to reveal a pale and near lifeless face he knew so well.
"Apolo!" Trey could not even stand. He fell to his knees beside his dear friend and brother of his heart.
Apolo's eyes flickered open for a moment, and then he sighed as a faint smile curved his lips. "I…I was afraid one of Dilan's men had defeated me. I'm glad it was you, Trey." He coughed and blood appeared on his lips. Arora was trying to stop the bleeding from his wound as Trey took one of his hands and squeezed it.
"You are going to live to fight another day."
His lashes fluttered closed for a moment, then he swallowed and said, "Why did you come back, Trey? Why did you not let us protect you?"
"I didn't need you to protect me," Trey told him as he brushed back Apolo's hair from his damp forehead. "I needed you to believe in me."
"I always believed in you, Trey," murmured Apolo before drifting out of consciousness. "I would never betray you."
Trey gently laid his hand on his chest then left the tent to find Trynity and Relena. His friends were waiting by the horses.
"Where is Arora?" asked Relena with a frown. "All this trouble and no woman?"
"Shut up and follow me."
He spun on his heel to return to the tent. He could hear the men murmuring his name, and Trey knew it was too late. He had been recognized and could expect to have to fight his way out of the camp, especially if Apolo died.
"You know, I don't take orders from you," snapped Relena.
"I don't think he's in the mood for nagging," remarked Trynity.
They entered the tent, and Arora turned startled eyes to them. "What are they doing here?"
"Miss Stryfe has some medical knowledge. I brought the princess in because I was sure she would get herself into trouble out there."
Trynity went to the man lying unconscious and breathing shallowly. "Well," she remarked as she was examining his wounds, "you certainly intended to win that fight, Trey."
Trey had wanted to cut off the warlord's head. If he had, he would not have been able to forgive himself. As it stood, he was sickened by what he had done to the man he thought had taken Arora as his woman.
Trynity looked at Arora. "I'll need clean, hot water, a blade and a fire. Relena will help you. I need to cauterize the wound or he will bleed to death."
Arora started toward the tent opening, but a mewling sound made her turn back to look towards a bundle that was squirming. Trey watched the play of emotions on her face, beginning with concern melting into disgust. Finally she looked at him, and her cheeks began to flame as he read utter shame in her eyes. Instead of leaving, she crossed the tent and lifted the bundle. With shaking hands, she laid it at his feet and bowed her head.
"I…I am sorry, my lord prince. Forgive me." Then she spun and hurried out of the tent.
Trey watched her go, then looked to the bundle at his feet. A child. Her child. He squatted and reached out to touch the restless infant, but he didn't. His child. A female.
"What are you going to do?" asked Trynity, now more concerned about the baby than Apolo.
He looked at her and saw that she was torn trying to understand his culture and what she considered a barbaric practice.
"I don't have a choice." He reached down to pick up the child and walked out of the tent passing Relena who was lugging a bucket of water. She called after him, but he did not turn back as he strode to his horse.
Heero watched him silently, and Duo opened his mouth to make a joke but thought better of it. Trey mounted the horse, and hiding the child beneath his cloak, pulled it around his head to protect him from the light of both suns.
"Do you want us to follow?" asked Heero.
"I have to do this alone," he forced himself to say.
He spurred his horse out of the camp, just as Relena came to stop by Heero and Duo, out of breath. "You have to stop him!" she cried.
Heero looked at her. "We are not going to stop him."
"But…but he is going to kill that baby!"
"Hey, Trey knows what he's doing," said Duo with disgust. "We may not like it, but then again, we don't live here. We don't have the right to judge him with our set of rules."
Relena looked at Heero, her eyes pleading. "Can't you try to talk him out of it?"
"Trey will do what he has to do."
"I hate you!" She slapped his face and marched back to the tent, ignoring the belligerent rumblings of the warlord's men. Shoving aside the tent flap, she paused inside and pinned Arora with a look of disgust.
"How could you let him do that to your own … your own…" Relena didn't know the Calabrian word so she used the one of her own language. "…daughter?"
Arora raised her brows. "Daughter? What…what is that word?"
Trynity didn't pause in cleaning Apolo's most serious wound. "Your female child."
"I am not allowed to have a female child," said Arora matter-of-factly. "Trey certainly cannot have a …a…daughter. It is unheard of for any imperial let alone the crown prince."
Relena joined Trynity and helped by sponging away blood so that she could see better as Trynity heated a blade over the fire Arora had made. "I feel sorry for you people! I feel even more sorry for Trey. He knows better!"
"I did think we had taught him some humanity," commented Trynity.
"What you call humanity is weakness," stated Arora. She was tearing strips to use for bandaging.
"You are alive because someone was too weak to kill you," said Trynity, turning to look at her.
Pausing in her task, Arora looked down silently for a moment, then she said, "Every moment of my life I have felt the shame of that weakness." She reached over to put her hand over Apolo's where it lay limply on his chest. "He has made my life bearable." A tear slid down her cheek. "And Trey, too. I…I paid him back so miserably. I could not give him a son."
Relena could not believe Arora was feeling ashamed to have given birth to a girl. "Trey isn't full Calabrian! He will do the right thing! The human part of him will be happy to have a daughter who would be like her mother."
"Yes," agreed Trynity without looking up. "Trey loves you too much, Arora, to destroy anything that is a part of the both of you."
Arora's brows were drawn together. "What makes you think I want to keep it?"
Relena looked at Trynity.
Trynity sighed and shrugged.
"I know you want to," whispered Apolo.
Arora looked at his face, and his eyes were on her. "Brother, you are talking nonsense. You need to rest."
Apolo's eyes shifted to look at Trynity, then Relena. "I have died and gone to female hell."
Trynity laughed. "Say another word, Apolo, and I'll stitch your mouth shut."
"Princess, what are you doing on Calabria? Someone is going to kill you here."
Relena smiled and put a cool cloth on his feverish brow. "Believe me, I regret coming here, but I wasn't about to let Heero get away from me after all the trouble I went through to stay at his side."
Apolo smiled and closed his eyes. "I think I like it here, in female hell."
"Should I send your women to you?" asked Arora.
"For what? They have only one use," he murmured before falling into unconsciousness again.
"At least he's honest," remarked Relena.
Trynity finished by closing his wound with the red-hot blade, but he didn't even flinch as the flesh burned together. "We'll keep him cool as the fever heals his body."
Heero stepped into the tent. "How is he? His men are restless."
Duo ducked in behind him. "I ain't staying out there alone."
"You want me to come out there and protect you?" asked Trynity with a laugh.
Arora frowned at her. "You could not protect him."
"Don't underestimate my woman."
She took up the bucket and walked out, still frowning.
When she was gone, Relena remarked, "I'm not sure I understand that woman."
"Don't even try," said Heero under his breath.
"What did you say?" Relena glared at him. "Are you implying that I couldn't?"
"No, I don't think you can put yourself in anyone else's shoes, Relena." Heero folded his arms over his chest and stared back at her.
"You…you…" Relena couldn't think of a word bad enough to use on him.
"If you don't hold your tongue, I won't let you sleep with me," threatened Heero. "I doubt Trey is going to keep you warm tonight."
Relena swung to look at Duo and Trynity.
Duo's eyes widened. "Hey! Three's a crowd! I'm sure one or two of those Calabrian barbarians wouldn't mind keeping you company."
She tossed back her hair and knelt beside Apolo. "I'll take care of him." Looking at Heero, she said, "Maybe when he gets better, he'll have some interesting way to show his gratitude."
"And I'll have an interesting way to put him back in a deathbed." Heero stalked out, stopped outside the tent to get his bearings and noticed Arora filling the bucket with water from the large oasis pool on the edge of the camp.
There was twilight now as one sun had already set and the other was sinking into the horizon. The two moons were on either sides of the sky, and they were bright. He walked to the pool and reached down to get the bucket, but he paused when he saw tears rolling down her cheeks. Heero wasn't exactly sure how he could comfort her or for what she needed comfort.
"It isn't true," she said fiercely as she swiped away her tears. "I don't want a…a…daughter!"
"Of course not!" Heero put his hand on her shoulder so that she looked at him. "I understand you."
"She would have to be protected constantly," sobbed Arora. "You saw what can happen to a female if she is not protected."
"You can't waste time protecting a female."
"Exactly!" Her tears were not subsiding. They were falling more rapidly. "Trey knows that! I know that!"
"How could his men respect him if he must keep her safe?"
"They cannot be expected to watch out for her when they cannot have female children of their own." Arora covered her face with her hands and she burst into full-blown weeping.
Heero forgot about the bucket and brought her gently to him.
"She had Trey's eyes!" Arora was holding handfuls of his shirt, sobbing pitifully. "I didn't want to care about her! I knew I couldn't keep her and if I did, she would hate me one day for giving her life."
Having little experience with such over-emotion, Heero did nothing but let her cry it out while rubbing her back. When she finally stopped, he doubted her grief was any less, but she had managed to get control of herself. He offered to take the bucket, but she shook him off and carried it back to the tent so that she could care for her brother.
"That was very kind of you."
Heero turned to see Relena watching him. "What else could I do?"
She came to him. "You could have left her alone in her misery."
"Would that have been your solution?"
"Don't be an ass, of course not!" Relena put her arms around his neck. "Let's find someplace to be alone together."
Heero tried to remove her arms but she had laced her fingers together behind his neck. "I don't want this from you Relena."
"I know what you want, Heero." She pulled his head down to hers. "When Trey returns, I will agree to anything you want. I will exchange vows with you, Heero, and if we ever return to L10, I don't even need a formal ceremony to prove we are tied together. I'm tired of fighting and I don't want to lose you."
He raised his brows. "Miss Darlian, can I possibly trust you?"
Relena laughed, then said before kissing him, "You know you can't escape me, Heero. Don't even try."
The third time would be the charm.
Trey surveyed the area one last time. In the light of both moons it seemed the perfect spot. There was a rare tree with leaves and some blossoms, probably fed for now by an underground stream. The Guerani hills were not so far away and created a beautiful backdrop to this place. He had even dug a small impression in the sand and settled the child in it comfortably. All these things had been missing the first two times he had tried to leave it. They were far enough from the camp that if he mounted his horse and rode away, he would not hear it's weak, mewling cries.
Putting his foot into a stirrup, he was about to mount up, but a sudden cry from the infant made him lose his balance and fall to the ground, his heart pounding. Trey quickly returned to the bundle. What was wrong? A nasty odor was his first clue.
"Dammit!" He walked to his horse, which stared at him docilely, as he rummaged through the packs of its previous owner. He managed to find an extra, almost clean tunic. The infant was using a goodly amount of lungpower to voice her outrage over her soiled wrappings.
Trey lifted it from the cozy cradle in the ground he had made. First he unwrapped it from his own cloak which he had placed around her, then the small, finely woven blanket she had been wrapped in by Arora. That left her almost bare but for the offending diaper. He stared at the configuration for a moment by the light from the two moons, concluded that Arora was completely incompetent concerning diapering a baby, then slipped the rancid, misshapen thing from her body. He used water from his canteen to pour over her, then patted her bottom dry with his own robe.
When he laid her back down, she kicked her tiny limbs and swung her fists as she cooed. Trey caught himself smiling, and then he frowned at the baby. "Stop it!" She was a useless, worthless female! He had to remember that.
He didn't bother trying to diaper her. He wrapped her in his cloak and laid her back in the depression, then approached his horse.
Fourth time.
This time he would do it!
The horse was staring straight at him as if mocking him. Trey almost reached the beast when the baby began to whimper.
Trey threw up his arms towards the two moons. "May the gods give me strength!"
The baby stopped whimpering. Trey breathed a sigh of relief and reached out to take the horse's reins.
Fifth time.
He pulled himself onto the horse and turned it away from the tree under which he had left the baby. There was no sound but the leaves rustling in the breeze. Trey turned back to look. No movement.
Worried, he leapt from the horse and hurried back to the baby. She lay with her eyes closed, her tiny face relaxed. Trey moved aside the cloak to watch as her chest rose and fell. He breathed another sigh of relief himself. She was only sleeping.
What was he doing? Disgusted with himself, he dropped the cloak back in place and stomped to the horse, which blew out a breath as he came to it. Trey wanted to punch the stupid, mocking beast.
Sixth time.
This time he would leave. But when he put his foot in the stirrup, a night bird screeched as it flew overhead, startling the horse into darting away, knocking Trey into the dust before he could mount up.
Spitting dirt from his mouth, he marched to the tree and rested his back against it. He stared from one moon to the other, then looked at the baby. Her eyes were open. Trey caught his breath.
By the gods, she was ugly! All babies were ugly, but she was surely the ugliest!
"Stop looking at me," he grumbled, but he didn't take his eyes from her. Her tiny mouth opened in a wide yawn. A large beetle was crawling toward her, but Trey smashed it under his fist then wiped it on the ground. What was he doing protecting it? He looked away to scan the dark horizon for his horse, but it was not likely to return until it was thirsty. Trey could be stuck there for hours.
He yawned, then looked at the infant. She was kicking at her coverings, and he remembered that he had forgotten the diapering. Scooping her out of the shallow hole, he unwrapped her and saw that she had already doused the cloak. Trey blew out his breath and ran fingers through his hair before tearing the extra tunic and spreading it out. He lifted the child from the cloak and laid her on the tunic, then tried to keep it together. These things were much easier on Earth, he thought to himself. He had seen commercials on the telecom broadcasts for diapers with Velcro fasteners. The diaper he had just placed on her fell open. He could use one of those Velcro diapers about now.
Trey stared at her naked little body for a moment. She wouldn't last a day in the wasteland sun. She would be dead even before the rising of the second sun. Isn't that what he wanted? He bit his bottom lip as he stared at her. She proceeded to water the diaper he had not even finished putting on her.
"You can't possibly have much left in you," he remarked as he slipped off his own tunic. He swatted some biting gnats away from her, then lifted her backside, slid out the now wet tunic and put his own under her. "Now, knock it off!"
He had just figured out how to keep the new makeshift diaper on her when his nose wrinkled, and he looked at her face. A dark shade of red, it was scrunched in some effort, a little sweat broken out over her forehead. Soon enough he knew the reason.
With disgust, he jumped to his feet and marched away, then began to pace near the small puddle, his arms thrown up as he silently prayed to any god he knew of, Calabrian and Earth alike. When he was finally calm enough, he returned to the baby. She was squirming in discomfort. Uncovering her, he washed her again, but she suddenly took a dislike to the cool water and began to scream. Although Trey hurried to dry her, she continued to wail angrily and kick vigorously until he covered her with a torn piece from his robe and lifted her against his shoulder to pat and bounce. He really had no experience with babies, but he'd watched enough broadcasts on the telecom on boring afternoons at Seaside to know what to do. The baby calmed after several minutes, and Trey saw the horse was returning like a dog looking for forgiveness, its head low as it headed toward the small puddle.
Trey cleared away all the failed attempts at diapering, then placed the baby back in the hole wrapped in what was left of his robe. Here he was, no robe, no tunic, bare to the waist. If he didn't get back to camp before the sunrise, he would die in the sun.
He walked with purpose to the horse, and grabbed its reins.
Seventh time.
Or was it eighth?
Trey didn't give a damn anymore. He leapt on the horse's back, gave the infant one last look, pulled his sword and raised it.
"Shamara!" How could he possibly fail now?
When the echo died away, he heard it.
Cooing.
Anything but cooing! He couldn't take that! He just couldn't!
"Damn!" Trey threw down his sword so that it buried in the ground, then slid off his horse.
He returned to the baby. The lead sun was starting to rise.
Trey looked down, saw the first rays of light in her murky, greenish eyes, and her lips parted in a toothless grin. His shoulders slumped forward in defeat, but his heart swelled.
Then a smile curved his lips as he reached down to lift the child. "I know you."
She continued to smile at him, her eyes sparkling.
Trey laughed. "My little Shamara." He brought her close to him. "We had better get the hell out of here or I won't be telling you the tale of the lost prince."
The eighth time was the charm.
By the time he returned to the camp, both suns were in the sky, he felt baked to a crisp, but Shamara was tucked against him, safe from the sun and the biting, sandy winds. The Wasteland rebels rose to their feet as he walked his horse through the camp, and he came to a stop near the tent of the Warlord.
Drawing his sword, he announced, "I am Trey, son of Zeno, crowned prince of Calabria. Help me take the throne, and I vow on the life of my beloved daughter Shamara that I will build a new Calabria of which you will be part."
Silence met his announcement until one brutish man stepped forward and spat. "You would make an oath on a worthless female's life? What kind of man does that make you?"
Trey slid from his horse and held his sword before the man, Shamara tucked under his arm. "No being's life is worthless, and certainly not the life of my female offspring, my daughter."
The man spat again and pulled his own sword. "All females are worthless, especially your brat and the female that whelped her." He lunged forward to attack. "Death to the imperial!"
Trey swung his sword, knocking the other man back, and before he could recover, Trey thrust his sword through his chest, cracking bones as he buried it up to the hilt, then shoved him back to fall onto the ground dead. Turning, Trey raised the sword again, and as blood dripped down the blade he announced, "I'll kill every last one of you if necessary."
"That won't be necessary," came a weak voice from the opening of Apolo's tent. His men began to murmur amongst themselves at his appearance. They probably believed he was dead. Apolo's gaze took in the men who followed him. "We will all follow Prince Trey. He will not fail us." He swayed, and a couple of women cried his name and caught him from falling. Trey saw him wink before they helped him back into the tent.
The men looked at him curiously for a moment, then moved away. They were not going to challenge him.
"I knew you wouldn't do it."
Trey saw Relena approaching with Heero behind her.
"So, you were right, for once, Relena. Where is Arora?"
"I think she's still sleeping in her own tent." Heero pointed out a small tent several yards away. "She had a difficult night."
"Not nearly as difficult as the night I have had." He walked in the direction of the tent, then ducked inside. Arora was sprawled on a blanket, sighing softly as she slept. There were dried tears spiking her long lashes and making salty tracks down her cheeks.
Trey looked at the baby still tucked in his arm and was annoyed to see a splattering of blood on her face. "I suppose with a name like Shamara, that is a proper baptism." He found a bowl of water and a cloth to clean them both of the man's blood, then checked her diaper. Trey frowned to see that she was dry and he looked her in the eye. "You did that on purpose," he accused her with his best frown.
She gurgled in response.
"Trey? Who are you talking to?"
He looked over his shoulder at Arora. Seeing her cozy, sleepy gaze and knowing how warm and soft she would be, he hoped Shamara would not be demanding on her mother.
"Shamara," he told her as he slipped a clean tunic over his head that he found amongst her things, probably belonging to Apolo.
Arora rose up to her knees to look from him to the baby in his arm. "You…you brought it back!"
He couldn't tell if she was happy or angry. "She is not an it. Her name is Shamara."
"Shamara? What kind of name is that for a child?" She came closer. Trey saw that there was hope in the depths of Arora's brown eyes.
Shamara whimpered. "I think she needs something to eat."
Arora looked at him first. "You must be hungry."
"Take care of her, and I will take care of myself."
She eagerly reached out for the baby, and his heart swelled to see her put the child to her breast. "Life will not be easy for her, Trey. It would have been better to leave her out there."
Trey smiled and brushed back Arora's hair and cupped her cheek. "I will make life easy for her, Arora. Trust me." He used a finger to do the same to the fuzzy dark hairs on Shamara's head. "I heard her first cries, Arora, in another galaxy, far away. She called out for me, and she has been leading me here ever since. Because of her, I am alive."
"She has bonded you to her with her Guerani powers," said Arora, putting her hand in Trey's. "Yet another burden to overcome."
Trey drew her into his arms and held them both. "Throughout the long ride back, she showed me the future, Arora. Our Shamara will never give us reason to regret this day." He put his fingers under her chin and raised Arora's face to his. "I love you, Arora. I cannot even bring myself to punish you for what you did to me."
"I'm so sorry, Trey! I was afraid for you. I am still afraid for you."
"But I am in the right, Arora. I will succeed." He lowered his lips to hers, and as he kissed Arora, he caressed his sweet daughter's head.
"See, Papa, all fairy tales can have a happy ending just like yours."