Disclaimer: The Gundam Wing characters don't belong to me. However, the
Galinov and Malone families do. I have no problem with people borrowing
them, so long as they are returned intact and credit is given where it's
due.
Part One
When he was a small boy, Petyr Galinov's grandmother died. He was perhaps four years old at the time and at first, he remembered, it didn't sink in that he wouldn't see his grandmother anymore. And when it did, he was devastated. 'Devastated' was actually something of an understatement. He was inconsolable by Grandmere's death, until his older sister drew him into her arms. Looking back now, Petyr realized how he took his sister for granted. . .believing that his wonderful Natasha would always be there. And she was. But he wasn't.
In any event, Natasha soothed him, calmed him down, then told him that while they couldn't see Grandmere, or hear her, she was still with them. Watching over them. Loving them. And one day, many years in the future, they would see her again. In the meantime, he was to be a good boy, like he almost always was, so Grandmere would be proud.
More than fifteen years later, Petyr was now looking after his sister. He was happily reunited with his grandmother, if only for a brief time. Grandmere told him that one of them would remain behind, to watch over Natasha. Petyr, who didn't yet realize that he was dead, understood. His beloved sister's trials were just beginning. Grandmere wanted to stay. . .after all, Petyr was just a child. But Petyr was determined. It was his turn to take care of Natasha. For reasons which he still didn't fully understand, his grandmother acceded to his wishes.
Petyr reached out his hand, wanting to touch his sister. It seemed that she was closer now than she ever was. But at the last moment, he pulled his hand back. So, instead, he watched his sister. She was sleeping on her side, her dark hair falling over her face like a curtain. They arrived on L2 the previous night. After settling in Ciara and Zechs, Shawn and Natasha bid each other good-night, then headed to their own rooms. Petyr scowled at Shawn. Idiot. What was he thinking, leaving his marriage unconsummated?
However, his sister's marriage wasn't his focus today. He was due to get a visitor. . .who, Petyr realized, was late. It figured. The newcomers were almost always late. //It wouldn't surprise me,// Petyr snickered, //if they sent a spirit Gundam for this man instead of whatever he's expecting.// He immediately stopped his thoughts from going any further. This time of watching, wasn't about Petyr. It was about. . .forgiveness, for lack of a better word.
"Where. . .am I?" the voice asked and Petyr turned to face his companion. Well. It was about time. He eyed the newcomer. While Petyr was six years old at the time of his physical death, and would have been twenty years old, if he lived, it suited him to take the form of a twenty- five year old man, the same age of his new companion. A tall, broad- shouldered young man with light brown hair and blue eyes, made even more distinctive by winged eyebrows.
Petyr said in the Scottish burr which sounded so exotic to him when he first chose it, "Welcome, Treize Khushrenada. It's about bloody time ye got here. What, ye think just because ye were a general while ye walked the earth, ye could take yer own sweet time getting here?" General Treize Khushrenada blinked. Obviously, he wasn't used to someone his own age speaking to him in such a way. Except maybe Relena Peacecraft, or the gundam pilots.
However, the general said in his smooth voice, "I do apologize, I had no idea I was late. Was I supposed to be here. . .wherever 'here' happens to be. . .earlier? You obviously know my name. . .might you grant me the same courtesy?" Petyr raised his eyebrows at the other young man. He was actually capable of talking like a normal person???
However, he said, "Ye were supposed to be here. . .well, it's hours ago for us. Ye left the mortal plane six weeks ago, Treize Khushrenada. Come. There's somethin' I want ye to see." He began, indicating his sister, "Nata. . .Natalia Malloy." He caught himself just in time. He didn't want Treize Khushrenada to know his sister's name yet. Petyr went on, "Six weeks ago, she and her husband rescued a critically injured pilot."
"What final battle?" Treize asked and Petyr remembered he died before the destruction of the Libra. Petyr waved his hand, changing the scene to the final battle between Heero Yuy and Zechs Merquise. He looked at Treize, who mouthed, "Milliardo." His blue eyes filled with shock, and Treize whispered, "Heero Yuy accomplished what I could not, what Milliardo's own sister could not. Oh, Milliardo." Petyr waved his hand once more.
This time, the scene changed to Zechs sleeping in the room prepared for him by Olga. Petyr explained, "Zechs was critically injured in the resulting explosion. This young woman, Natalia Malloy, and her husband Shawn found Epyon floating in space. They pulled it aboard their salvage vessel and managed to save his life. That was six weeks ago. They won the battle to save his life. Now, the next part begins. The healing of his heart and soul."
"Why are you showing me this?" Treize asked softly, seemingly unable to tear his eyes away from the sleeping form of Zechs Merquise. Petyr took the choice from his hands, once more waving his hand to change the scene to his sleeping sister. Treize turned to face him, repeating, "Why are you showing me this?"
"I've shown ye Zechs Merquise's rebirth. Now, I want to show ye something else. The day Zechs Merquise was born," Petyr answered. Treize started to speak, but Petyr held up a hand, adding, "The first fall of the Sank Kingdom." Now it seemed that Treize couldn't speak, even if he tried. One more wave of Petyr's hand, and the scene was of an ivory castle, alive with the laughter of children. He whispered, mostly to himself, "The end of my life."
Sank Kingdom, AC 182
Six year old Petyr slid out from the huge car which carried him, his sister, and their parents from the airport in Sank City, to the palace. He slid neatly into the arms of his sister, who sighed, "Petyr, you are getting too heavy for me to carry! You are six years old, little brother, not a baby like Princess Relena."
"Be happy that Relena did not hear you call her a baby, Tasha," laughed a beautiful young woman, "she gets very indignant when Milliardo does so! Oh, I forgot, I must not call you 'Tasha' now. You are a young woman of sixteen. My apologies, Lady Natasha." Petyr's sister laughed and managed a curtsey, despite Petyr in her arms.
"That's perfectly acceptable, your Majesty. From you, I would never hesitate to accept it. To you, I shall ever be 'Tasha.' Speaking of which, Queen Katerina, where are the children?" sixteen year old Natasha Galinova asked as she straightened to her full height. Petyr saw their mother look at his sister, horrified.
The queen, ignoring the older woman, simply laughed and put her arm around Natasha's thin shoulders, drawing the girl close. She said, "Milliardo is with Pagan, for his fencing lesson. Tell me, young Petyr, have you learned to fence yet?" She looked at the six year old, who felt shy suddenly and buried his face in his sister's blouse.
Behind them, the king was speaking in low tones to Mama and Papa. He was a very tall man, even from Petyr's perch in Natasha's arms, with flowing white hair. In fact, he frightened Petyr a little until he saw the king smile unexpectedly. While they were on the way here, Mama and Papa told him that the king and queen were much like the Tsar and Tsarina. That alone frightened Petyr a little.
His papa told him that they were distant cousins to the Kirov family, but when he saw the tsar, his father never smiled. He acted almost as if he was afraid of the tsar. So, when Mama told him that the king was like the tsar, Petyr assumed the worst. Seeing the very tall man hadn't helped matters much, either.
But then, King Raoul. . .for he heard his father call the tall man Raoul. . .smiled, and that changed his entire face. Petyr couldn't hear what he said, but his father burst out laughing. His father. Was laughing. Queen Katerina smiled indulgently and told Natasha, "I believe his majesty is telling your parents about Relena's antics. She's the exact antithesis of Milliardo. He's so serious, and she's. . .well. . .a three year old. But, she always makes him laugh."
"I would like to hear this. . .and where is Relena? You said that Milliardo was with Pagan, for his fencing lesson, but you never finished telling us about Relena, your Majesty," Natasha observed. Petyr was restless and he began to squirm. Natasha looked down at him and sighed, "Ready to get down, are you? Just hold my hand, all right? I have no wish to lose you on our first day."
Petyr nodded. . .he wasn't quite brave enough to try exploring on his own yet. His sister set him on his feet, and as promised, Petyr held tightly to Natasha's hand. The queen waited until the brother and sister were ready, then said, "Tasha, I have known you since you were a small girl. Stop calling me 'your Majesty.' I've told your mother the same. I'm still 'Rina.' Remember?"
Petyr wondered what the queen meant by that, and why his sister was laughing. After a moment, Natasha replied, "I stand correct, yo. . .I mean, Rina. Forgive me." Petyr looked from his sister to the queen, then back again, completedly confused. Papa was wrong. These people were nothing like the tsar and the tsarina. . .nothing at all!
The Great Divide, AC 196
"I do not understand. . .who are the boy and girl? Although, the girl called 'Natasha' looks a great deal like the woman Natalia. That was fourteen years ago. . .is Natalia, Natasha grown up? She looks to be about the right age. Natasha was about fifteen or sixteen, although I thought Natalia was twenty-five," Treize observed quietly.
"Aye. She changed her name after the obscenity. Natasha Galinova, for that is the name of the family, became Natalia Gaston, Gaston being her mother's maiden name. And when she married Shawn Malloy, Natalia Gaston became Natalia Malloy. . .or, more simply, Talia," Petyr explained. Amazing. Treize Khushrenada could actually talk like a normal person. Or somewhat normal.
"But I still do not understand. What is so special about this girl, this woman, aside from the fact that she knew Milliardo when he was a child? That she was there when the attack occurred? The attack occurred the same day she and her family arrived?" Treize questioned. He was frowning, and Petyr smiled grimly. Hooked him.
"Nay, the attack took place a few weeks later. After the two families had a chance to get to know each other. . .or rather, reacquainted with each other. And that is part of what we will see next. Ye see, Natasha's father, Alexei Galinov, was about to be named Russia's ambassador to Sank. Ahh, now the name rings a bell with ye. Ye remember them, do you not?" Petyr asked.
"I remember," Treize murmured, "I was eleven at the time, but I remember how pleased my uncle was when he learned that Galinov would be in Sank at the time of the attack. He and Galinov always hated each other." Petyr rolled his eyes. Oh, now there was an understatement to end all understatements!
Sank Kingdom, AC 182
"So, old friend. . .what made you change your mind? You know that it will be a long time before you see Russia again," Raoul Peacecraft said as he sat down in his favorite chair. Alexei Galinov sighed as he sat down opposite his old friend. He argued with Nathalie about this very thing. . .or rather, its effect on the children.
"I know. In fact, that played into my decision. Natasha is sixteen years old, Raoul. Almost a young woman. As long as we remain in Russia, she will always be the daughter of a minor noble. You heard her at dinner tonight, and saw her with the children. She has the potential to be so much more! And the same is true of Petyr. In the Sank Kingdom, my children will have more opportunities," Alexei answered.
"Oh, I listened very carefully to your daughter tonight at dinner. And I noticed that Milliardo was hanging on her every word. I believe my oldest child is becoming quite infatuated with your oldest child," Raoul said with a smile, adding, "Tis a pity he is ten years her junior, we could arrange a marriage for them."
"We still could. My daughter would make a formidable queen," Alexei said seriously. Raoul blinked and Alexei remembered that his friend married for love. Unlike Alexei and Nathalie. Theirs was an arranged marriage, as was done in the old tradition. Alexei wasn't sure if he envied his friend or not.
"I have no doubt of that. . .but she is a bright young woman. It would be foolish of us to presuppose she could not choose a husband wisely. Katerina was only a few years older than Tasha when we wed," Raoul answered. Alexei nodded and Raoul added, "Enough of this conversation. Milliardo is only six years old. Thinking of him getting married means thinking of grandchildren, and I have no wish to think of grandchildren as yet. Besides. There are other things we must discuss, old friend. Vital things, since you are to be my new ambassador."
"The Alliance," Alexei guessed and his friend scowled, reminding the Russian diplomat of the boy he met years earlier, when they were both young soldiers convinced of their own immortality. Alexei continued, "I thought as much. I have heard disquieting rumors in Moscow. You think they plan to undermine the Sank Kingdom's call for disarming?"
Raoul rose to his feet, walking to the huge bay window. Alexei did not press his friend. When Raoul was ready to speak, he would. Until then, Alexei would hold his peace. At last, Raoul turned back to face him and replied, "Something is coming, old friend. That is why I requested you. I want someone I trust at my side. When the Alliance makes its attempt, and they will. . .I will need your help. Quite possibly the help of your entire family."
"You shall have it, your Majesty," Alexei promised. He knew he was promising a great deal. But he also knew he would rather die than leave his friend alone to face whatever the Alliance was planning to do. His next words were almost rash for a man his age, but when it came to this family, Alexei was still a fifteen year old boy. He told his friend, "I swear, I will do whatever it takes to protect your children. We will all protect the prince and princess."
Raoul smiled at him, that brilliant smile which Alexei had always felt privileged to see, for it was so rare. The king said, "Well. Enough of this serious talk. I want to hear more about your children. Petyr is growing so quickly. . .I do believe he's taller than Milliardo!" Alexei chuckled, as he always did when someone mentioned his son. What was it Natasha called Petyr? Their little ray of sunshine?
"Yes, but Milliardo has an easier time talking than my son does. Perhaps because he speaks more slowly, and thinks of what he wants to say. I am grateful to Katerina, however, for giving Petyr special permission to call your son by his middle name. Raoul. . .why in the name of all that's holy. . .?" Alexei began.
"Did we name him 'Milliardo,' old friend? That's a very long story. For now, let's rejoin the ladies. I believe bedtime is coming for the children, and I know you want to say good night to your son. The last I saw, Relena was falling asleep in your daughter's arms. She took to Tasha rather quickly. I think Tasha playing 'flying Relena' may have something to do with that. A new game," Raoul observed.
Alexei chuckled, remembering the sight of his daughter scooping the three year old princess into her arms and 'flying' her around the room, carefully avoiding anything crystal or glass. The little princess squealed with a combination of delight and terror, as only a three year old can. He said, "A game she can only play with my daughter, as Milliardo is entirely too small to attempt such a feat."
Raoul nearly spit out his wine, laughing, then composed himself. Still, his brilliant blue eyes twinkled with suppressed laughter. Milliardo inherited his father's eyes, Alexei realized earlier that afternoon. Strange, he never truly paid attention to the little heir. Not until this visit. Perhaps it was because the boy was growing up. Perhaps because his daughter's proximity to adulthood reminded him how quickly children do grow up, often without a parent noticing.
"Yes, but Milliardo has not yet learned his own limits. He would never willingly hurt his sister, but after seeing how Relena reacted to Tasha's game, he might try to make Relena fly as well," Raoul answered dryly. Alexei nodded. . .he noticed the same thing. The little prince pushed himself to his very limits, and beyond. A commendable trait in an adult, but Milliardo was just a child.
Alexei observed, "He is very harsh with himself. I realize that he is your heir, the prince, but Raoul, I fear for him. He wants your approval more than anything. I fear what will happen to him if he believed that he disappointed you in some way." He could tell from his friend's expression that the same thing occurred to Raoul.
"I am a coward, old friend. It is so easy for me to tell Milliardo what I dream of. But I lack the courage to sweep him into my arms, and tell him that I love him," Raoul answered. Alexei frowned. . .that was impossible! He saw Raoul with Relena! Then again, he acted the same way with Natasha. He loved his only daughter with an intensity that sometimes frightened him. But he could never bring himself to show that love. Still, he was sure that Tasha knew how much he loved her. For some reason, it was so much easier to show his affection to Petyr.
"It always seems that no matter what we do, we end up hurting our children. Well then. I would say that no matter what the Alliance plans, I should make sure that my son always knows how much I love him. How proud I am of him. For, in the end, is that not the reason for pacifism? To make sure our children never have to fight?" Raoul asked, raising an eyebrow at the same time he raised his wine glass.
Alexei smiled and raised his wine glass to his old friend, replying, "To our children, to pacifism, and to the past. To the happy accident that brought the brash son of a Russian diplomat and the heir to the Sank Kingdom together twenty years ago." Raoul smiled at the reminder of their first meeting and clinked his glass against Alexei's.
"To our children, then. I think perhaps I will write him a letter. I always express myself much better in writing," Raoul answered and Alexei almost laughed. Almost.
The Great Divide, AC 196
"So, King Peacecraft knew something was coming. Did he ever write that letter to Milliardo, like he said he would?" Treize Khushrenada as the image of the two men faded from the 'screen.' There was no other way to put it, really. It seemed to be a huge screen of some kind, which shrunk or expanded according to the need of the moment.
When he was a small child, Treize found several ancient tapes of a series from pre-colony years in the library of his older brother, Stefan. It frightened him, especially the opener of. . . what was it called? Oh yes. That was right. 'The Outer Limits.' But the screen reminded him of that show now. Strange. Treize hadn't thought of that in years. He found the tapes again as a teenager, while Milliardo was visiting.
Treize smiled, remembering Milliardo's reaction to several episodes. Then again, with the horror of his early life, it was far more difficult to frighten Milliardo. His companion, who still had not favored Treize with a name, broke into his thoughts, saying, "Aye, he knew somethin' was comin,' but unfortunately, he didna realize what a high price he would have to pay for bein' wrong about the kind of trouble."
He paused, waving his hand to show the Malloy family and Milliardo awakening and leaving the house. Milliardo's pale blond hair looked shorter, but Treize realized that it was merely tucked under. It gave the impression that his hair was much shorter than it truly was. In addition, he was dressed simply in jeans and a t-shirt, with a sweatshirt tied around his waist, and a baseball cap covering his eyes. Simple and effective. Treize murmured, "Very clever. She makes sure that he blends in."
"What makes ye so sure that Natasha is the one who came up with the disguise?" his companion asked, then added, "Oh, and as for yer question about King Raoul, the answer is, none of yer concern. That is between him and his son. Nothin' to do with ye." Treize blinked at the outright hostility coming from his companion.
However, he only replied, "I am not sure how I knew Natasha came up with the disguise. I just. . .knew. Did she become a warrior after she left earth? She has that purity to her, a soldier's purity." Treize stared at the young woman. She really did look much younger than the thirty or thirty-one she had to be. Especially with her long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and a baseball cap of her own covering most of her face in shadow. They were all dressed in varying uniforms of jeans and t-shirts.
His companion snorted and said, "I always wondered if ye meant that bullshit ye spouted about the purity and nobility of war. Guess I have my answer." Treize blinked again. This man did not like him. At all. Not that Treize truly cared. He had not attained the rank of general by caring who disliked him or not.
He replied, "Tis what I believe. And what of Natasha Galinova, Natalia Malloy? What does she believe?" Treize was fascinated with the woman who aided in the rescue of Milliardo. She stayed near his side, while the young girl. . .her daughter. . .remained with her father. She was pouting, Treize noted. . .the girl was pouting. Because she wanted to be with Milliardo?
"She believes in keeping her family safe. She lost everything when Sank fell. She hates war, sees no nobility in carnage and destruction. But to borrow a phrase from her step-daughter Ciara, ye are NOT one of her favorite people. Same is true of her husband," the other man replied. Treize turned to ask about that, but his companion said, "Shut up and watch. Ye might actually learn something." And once more, the screen changed.
Sank Kingdom, AC 182
"Tasha, Tasha, Tasha, I never want to leave!" Petyr exclaimed. Natasha Galinova put down her book and smiled at her younger brother. They were here for almost two weeks, and he quickly made himself at home. At the moment, he was fighting off sleep. The prince and princess were both napping, and Petyr was still running on pure excitement. It was just a matter of time before he crashed.
When he finally calmed down, she would take him upstairs and put him to bed. At the insistence of the little prince, Petyr was sharing his room. Natasha and her mother agreed that Petyr needed a little more time to wear himself out, so he didn't keep the prince awake. Katerina acknowledged that the child was VERY cranky without his nap.
"Well, we'll be here for a few days after the ball, then we'll return to Russia for our belongings. King Raoul asked me if I would be like to attend Sank University. He wants to turn Sank into a mecca for students," Natasha said in a dreamy voice. And she wanted desperately to go to Sank University. She wasn't sure yet what she would study, but she had two years to figure that out. The king agreed, telling her that she had the rest of her life. Yes. . .she was only sixteen, and the world stretched out in front of her. She thought about studying medicine, or biology, but realized that wasn't what she wanted for the rest of her life.
Psychology, then? History? Philosophy? Political science? Languages? Become a diplomat like her father? The possibilities seemed endless to her, the opportunities made her head spin. Her brother interrupted her dreams by inquiring, "A mecca? Whazzat?"
Natasha shook herself, bringing herself back to earth, and put her arm around her brother. He was already winding down. Oh, he still fought it, but it would be less than an hour before he was out like a light. She replied, trying to think of something that he would understand, as he snuggled close, "A mecca is. . .well, a holy place. To some people, learning is holy."
"Uhmmm. I like Julian, Tasha. He doesn't smile enough, but he's nice. Lets me play with his toys. The only time he gets mad if someone says something mean about Relena. She's funny. Was I that funny when I was a baby like her?" Petyr inquired. He was almost asleep now. Natasha grinned. A baby, hmm? She didn't point out to him that he was only three and a half years older than Relena.
Instead, she shifted him in her arms, so he was lying across her lap. It would make it easier for her to carry him upstairs. Natasha smiled, remembering the little prince's explanation when his parents asked him why he wanted Petyr to share his room. He wasn't used to being around other little boys, and he was curious. Natasha said, gently caressing her brother's reddish hair, "Oh, yes. In fact, I think you were even funnier. And you are absolutely right. The prince should smile more."
Petyr's only answer was to sigh. The older sister looked down at the younger brother with a gentle smile. He was out like a light. Gently, to avoid waking him, Natasha scooped him into her arms, holding him gently against her body, and carried him from the room. On the way upstairs, she passed Senator Dorlian. The young man smiled, his brown eyes flickering from the sleeping child to the teenager, and Natasha smiled back a bit ruefully.
The room where the prince now slept was almost totally dark, the only light came from the sun streaming through the blinds. It was enough light for Natasha to reach the bed without tripping. She gently placed Petyr on the mattress, carefully removing his shoes. Petyr moaned in his sleep and turned on his side, away from her, and Natasha covered him up. She kissed his forehead, murmuring, "Sleep well, little brother. We have a great deal to do."
Before she left the room, Natasha quietly checked on Prince Milliardo. The little boy lay on his back, breathing evenly. He was smiling softly, and Natasha wondered what he was dreaming about. Pleasant dreams, she hoped. She hoped that for once, the little boy was happy, rather than solemn. Natasha leaned forward and lightly kissed his blond curls, murmuring, "Dream well, little prince. Dream well."
She wearily returned to the sitting room. The adults went into the city, to find a dress for Natasha's mother, leaving Natasha and Pagan behind to look after the children. Senator Dorlian and his wife stayed an extra hour, just to make sure the pair had everything under control, and as Natasha descended the stairs, she smiled at the couple.
"Both boys are asleep, then?" Renata Dorlian asked and Natasha bobbed her head. The matron continued, "Maybe you should think about getting some rest as well. I know Petyr and Relena have been running you ragged, and you're a growing girl yet. And, you must think of the ball tomorrow night. Pagan can run things while you rest."
Natasha was on the point of demurring, when Pagan entered and said, "That sounds like an excellent idea, Lady Natasha." Natasha grimaced to herself. She wished people wouldn't call her that. But it came with the territory, and she learned years ago to simply accept it. However, she quickly convinced both Milliardo and Relena to call her 'Tasha,' since that was much easier for Relena's three year old palate to enunciate. And Milliardo. . .
Was a very sweet little boy. Shy. Solemn. But very, very sweet. Pagan added, breaking into her thoughts, "I can watch over all three of the sleeping angels. Get some sleep, Lady Natasha. You'll have need of it when the boys awaken, especially your brother." Natasha rolled her eyes, but had to admit that he was right. Petyr, as much as she loved him, could be. . .a handful. And Relena showed the same signs of being equally willful. A tendency her brother seemed to have, but his was cloaked by reserve. He would probably be more dangerous.
"All right. . .I am convinced. Just awaken me when my parents arrive? They would not be happy if I failed to keep a promise I made to them," the young girl said. Pagan inclined his head, but not before she saw a gleam in the fencing master's eyes. Which meant it was unlikely he would awaken her. Damn. She hated having to rely on her alarm clock. She had a bad tendency to sleep through the alarm, a tendency she was trying to break.
She curtseyed to the fencing master, and the couple, then went back upstairs to her own room. As she stepped inside, a faint smile crossed her face. Katerina gleaned from her letters over the last six months what kind of art, furnishings, and decorations appealed to Natasha. In turn, Katerina turned the room which would be Natasha's for the next two years into a dream room with aid from artist friends.
It was her private sanctuary. Not even Petyr came in here. The only person who came in here, aside from Katerina, was Relena. The little girl, she learned, 'helped' by 'painting' a picture for the unknown teenager who would inhabit the room. Natasha collapsed onto her bed with a sigh. Pagan was right. She was exhausted. Made even worse by the conversation she overheard between her father and the king the previous night, while her mother and Rina were talking in the sitting room. Natasha went upstairs to check on the children.
On her way back to the sitting room, she passed the study. King Raoul said, "Dermail will be at the ball. I know you and he do not like each other, I wanted you to know ahead of time." Her father's answer was a series of expletives. Natasha didn't think her father knew most of those words. She learned a great deal from boarding school, which she hadn't shared with her parents or her brother. When she felt the situation called for it, she could swear like a soldier or a sailor. Like most teenagers who were raised in her circle, Natasha believed her austere father didn't know half the swear words she did.
He proved her wrong with that outburst. Once he was calm enough to speak rationally, her father said, "That man is trouble. His entire family is trouble. But I suppose I must kill him with kindness, as ever. But you have my word on one thing, Raoul. He is getting nowhere near my daughter. Not just because she's a lovely young girl, although that concerns me as well. But I fear him engaging her in a political discussion. That could be disastrous."
"You should give your daughter more credit. She is, after all, the child of a diplomat. I have no doubt that Tasha is just as capable of killing him with kindness in her own way, as you are in yours," King Raoul answered, and Natasha was stunned to hear a hint of laughter in the monarch's voice.
She was even more stunned to hear her father laugh outright, answering, "Yes, I am sure she is. She has had sixteen years of watching her mother and myself. Raoul, do we put too much, too many burdens on our children? Should Milliardo and Natasha not be enjoying themselves, instead of being used as photo opportunities?"
Natasha frowned. She never heard her father talk like this. The king sighed, "Neither of us can change what we are, Alexei. Milliardo is my heir, he will rule one day. I want him to have laughter in his childhood, but he must be prepared for what may happen." There was a pause, then the king asked, "Alexei? If the unthinkable happens, might I name you and Nathalie as Milliardo's regents?" Natasha stifled her gasp, her eyes widening at the king's request.
"Raoul! You must not talk like that!" her father blurted out, echoing Natasha's own thoughts. Her father continued, "Our warrior days were over years ago, once we realized that the Peacecraft heritage could not be denied. Once you became as sick of warfare as your predecessors had. We are not boys any longer, Raoul, we are not young men."
"And my son is not a man. . .he is a child. Someone must fight for him, Alexei, until he is old enough and strong enough to fight for himself. Would you place such a heavy burden on the shoulders of a six year old boy? Would you force him to face the world alone? It is not unthinkable, my friend. It is very, very possible, that I will not live to see my son become a man," the king answered.
He paused, then continued, "If I am correct, if I do not live to see my son grow to adulthood, then I want my oldest and dearest friend there to watch over him. I want him, and Relena, to have you and Nathalie as their parents, Natasha and Petyr as their siblings. Do I ask so much, old friend?" Natasha left her hiding place before she heard anything more. She was too shaken by what she already heard.
She knew about Duke Dermail, of course. She was the daughter of a diplomat, as was her roommate, Beatriz Escalante. Natasha and Beatriz knew about the heads of state around the world. Although, in the case of Duke Dermail, he was also one of the leaders of the Romefellar Foundation. She didn't know, exactly, what the Romefellar Foundation was. But she did know that the duke was trouble. Her. . .sense. . .told her so.
Natasha was half-French and half-Russian, and from her Russian grandmother, she inherited a sense about things. It was very difficult to explain. But she simply knew things. People didn't understand that. It was one reason why she never discussed with anyone. Except Rina. Then again, Rina was the only person who knew Natasha inside and out. Aside from Beatriz, the queen was the only person whom Natasha trusted implicitly.
Natasha returned to her mother and Katerina, deeply concerned by what she heard. She made few contributions to the conversation. King Raoul was troubled by something. Natasha heard things in boarding school. . .she attended school with the daughters of some of the most influential people in the world. It was hard NOT to hear things. Now, less than a day later, Natasha once more thought of what she heard before her father pulled her out of school for this journey. More and more nations were taking up the call for disarmament. More and more people were following the Peacecraft example. That was wonderful. But Natasha was afraid.
Beatriz summed it up when they were discussing the movement toward peace. Her own father was in Romefellar, and she observed there were many people, who did not want peace. //They,// Beatriz said, glancing at Natasha, //are a threat to the Peacecraft dream. And that is what it is. A dream of peace. A wonderful dream, but a dream nonetheless. I would advise the Peacecrafts to be wary.// Natasha nodded, understanding.
Lying in bed, Natasha shivered as she remember her roommate's warning. //She was trying to warn me about something specific,// Natasha thought, //that will happen soon. But what? She couldn't tell me directly. When the others get back, I must talk to the King.// Natasha made that resolution and drifted to sleep. She didn't realize it, but she left the door adjar. Only moments after she drifted off to sleep, the door was pushed open by a tiny hand. Princess Relena had a nightmare, and Mama wasn't here. Tasha, however, was.
The Great Divide, AC 196
The scene returned to the small family, but Treize Khushrenada was thinking about other things. About what he just saw. He was eleven years old when the Sank Kingdom fell. //They knew something was coming,// Treize thought, //all of them did. And the only one who really had any idea about what was coming, didn't understand the clue which her friend was trying to give her. A sixteen year old girl.//
He realized for the first time that he, Une, Milliardo, and Relena weren't the only ones who grew up quickly. Treize still didn't know exactly what happened to Natasha Galinova on the day of the Sank attack, but he could already see that it changed her. //She knew something was coming, something terrible, but it never occurred to her that it was an attack?// Treize thought with the advantage of hindsight.
"Do not presume to judge her, Treize Khushrenada. Ye have not seen everything. In a moment, ye will see more. But there is something in the present which needs to be viewed. Look," his companion said. Ignoring the surly young man's comments, Treize did look at the present picture. The young girl wandered away from her father, and for the first time, Treize realized that she had dark blond hair. Both Natasha/Natalia and the father had dark hair.
//Which means,// Treize thought, //that she probably is not Natasha's daughter. Her coloring is more like the man's.// However, he shook his head and concentrated on what he was seeing. The girl slipped away from her father to play in the arcade. She looked to be about twelve or thirteen, that transition between child and woman. Her young face held the promise of beauty to come. //Yes,// Treize decided, //she is the man's child, not Natasha's. The bone structure is wrong for her to be Natasha's daughter.//
The girl began playing a game, her blue-gray eyes intent on the screen. She was playing for perhaps fifteen minutes when a group of older kids, perhaps seventeen or eighteen years old, swaggered into the arcade. Treize stiffened. Bullies. Trouble. This was borne out a moment later when one of them shoved the girl away from the game. She stumbled, then righted herself and swung around to face them. Her dark blonde hair swung about her shoulders, her eyes blazing. The kids were laughing at her. . .one stayed beside the game and started playing in the girl's place. Another stood between her and the game, thumbs hooked through the loops of his jeans, a smirk on his face. The others were just watching and laughing.
The girl seemed to be frozen, though Treize could see in her eyes that she wanted to fight back. He saw that expression in the eyes of a young boy, before those eyes were obscured by a helmut. Milliardo. Yes. She reminded him in that moment of eleven year old Milliardo. Angry. Defiant. The boy pushed her again, harder, so that she was knocked into a game. The figure at the game reached out a hand to steady her, saying in a drawling voice, "Now, that wasn't very nice of you. Didn't your mamas teach you to play nice?" Treize's eyes widened. He knew that voice.
The owner of the voice turned away from the game, revealing a young boy, dressed in black. His long brown hair was worn in a braid which reached past his hips. He smirked, then said, "Now, this little lady was playing the game before you. Why don't you let her finish what she's doing, and then you can have your turn?" //I do know him,// Treize thought, //it's one of the Gundam pilots. Zero-two, unless I miss my guess. Duo Maxwell. Is he alone here?//
"Why don't you stay out of things which don't concern you?" the first boy snarled. Treize found himself holding his breath. What would the brash young Gundam pilot do? He was one, the gang was at least four or five. However, Treize didn't count on one thing. Duo Maxwell wasn't alone. Three other boys appeared, including a slender young Chinese boy. Chang Wufei. Treize smiled faintly.
The boy's dark eyes burned as he snarled at the bullies, "It does concern us. It always concerns us when the strong threaten the weak! How dare you, a group of four, threaten a child? Have you no sense of justice?" Treize saw the girl start to protest. . .'who are you callin' weak,' he saw forming on her lips, but Duo put his hand on her shoulder, effectively silencing her.
"We don't want any trouble. Just leave this young lady in peace, and we can all walk away from this," the blond boy said earnestly. He took up position on the other side of the girl, putting a protective arm around her shoulders. Quatre Raberba Winner. Pilot Zero-Four, and the de facto leader of the group. At his side was Trowa Barton, pilot zero-three, a serene mask seeming to be at odds with his young face.
So where was Heero Yuy? His companion murmured, "Ye'll see in a moment. Just watch. And by the way, the lass is called 'Ciara.' Was getting a little tired of ye callin' her 'the girl.' She has a name. And now, you know what that name is." Treize blinked. Would he ever get used to someone reading his thoughts? His companion added, "In time. Now shut up and watch." He was fond of saying that, it seemed. Shut up and watch, or something along those lines. Treize wondered if he was like that in life, then dismissed the thoughts.
Instead, he turned his attention back to the screen. Realizing that they no longer out-numbered their prey. . .and being at least wise enough to realize that the young Chinese boy could be trouble, the leader of the bullies snarled, "This isn't over, pretty boy. We'll meet again, I can promise that."
The four wandered away, each glaring daggers at the four Gundam pilots. . .and received glares in answer. Once they were gone, Quatre turned to the girl, asking, "Are you all right, miss? Did they hurt you?" The other three pilots formed a protective semi-circle around the girl, each face mirroring Quatre's concern.
"I'm okay. Thanks. You. . .you're pilots, aren't you? The pilots of those five gundams?" Ciara asked. The four boys looked at each other in shock, then looked at her. Ciara kind of shrugged and said, "I've been living in space my entire life. I watched the battle with Oz and White Fang. I know who you are. And my. . .uncle. . .he fought in that war. He was with White Fang. Almost died in the final battle."
The word 'uncle' was spoken hesitantly, and Treize looked at his companion. The other man clarified, "Natasha has been telling people that Zechs is her brother. As ye've probably guessed, Ciara is infatuated with him. It is for that reason that this part of the deception does not set well with her, but she understands the reasons for it."
Treize nodded, understanding. Duo Maxwell said, "Your uncle was in White Fang? Did he ever tell you why they. . .what the hell Milliardo Peacecraft or Zechs Merquise, or whatever the hell he wanted to call himself. . .what he was trying to do? Trowa tried to explain it to me once, but I still don't get what he was thinking."
"Don't you? I do," Treize murmured. His red-haired companion glared at him, and the late general fell silent. One day, he would have to find out why this man hated him so. Preferably sooner, rather than later.
"He was trying to end war, for all time, my uncle told me. He said that Commander Peacecraft believed the source of all conflict was the earth, and that's why he planned to collide Libra with earth," Ciara explained earnestly. Deception was difficult for her, but she obviously believed what she was now saying.
"Make the people of earth understand how terrible war really is, so they will never want to make war again," Trowa said quietly. Ciara looked at the dark-haired boy, surprised, then bobbed her head. Trowa continued, "What's your uncle's name? We battled White Fang, and thought we retrieved everyone."
"Zachary Gaston. His name is Zachary Gaston. He was an MS pilot. He was acting as an escort for the evacuation from the Libra, and he turned back to help destroy it. He didn't get clear in time. My mom heard about the battle and she was afraid for him, so we went there," Ciara answered. Treize lifted an eybrow. For someone not accustomed to deception, she was doing a lovely job of it.
"She's speakin' the truth, General, just editing certain facts. Ye should know that yerself, the difference between lies of commission and the lies of omission. Ye did it all the time," the man snorted. He turned blazing eyes to Treize, adding, "Like, when ye tricked the Gundam pilots, specifically Heero Yuy, into killing General Noventa for ye. Don't ye dare to judge that girl. She lies to protect her family from further harm. What was yer reason?"
Treize wasn't sure how he knew, but he realized that he discovered one of the reasons why this man disliked him. He said, "I did what was necessary. Noventa was leading us to a false peace." The man snorted, obviously disgusted for his own reasons, and Treize said, barely keeping control of his own anger, "I have no need to explain myself to you. I will answer for my actions, but not to you."
"AYE! Ye will answer to the one who Created ye. Not today, for there's a long line of people to be judged ahead of ye. But for now, ye will see what yer actions wrought. What the actions of yer uncle, Duke Dermail, wrought. First, ye should see the rest of this little drama," the other man said. He nodded back to the screen. Against his will, Treize returned his attention back to the screen.
They missed something, for Ciara was now blurting out, "Milliardo Peacecraft IS not evil! How can you say that? Did you know him, did you know what he was doing? Do you know why he did what he did? Quatre, you took out two colonies while you were under the influence of the Zero system. How many people died? You're not evil, are you? Then why does Zechs have to be evil?"
"You say 'is.' Do you know he escaped from the destruction of the Libra after he helped to take out the engine?" Trowa asked. A momentary flicker of fear crossed the young girl's face, and Treize wondered if he was the only one who saw it. He could see, however, from a flicker in Trowa Barton's emerald eyes that he was not. Ciara didn't see, however. Her small body was tense, her stance defiant.
"I don't know that he didn't survive. No one ever found that monster he piloted. Speaking of monsters. . .what about Wing Zero? What about Heero Yuy? Where's he?" Ciara asked, looking around the arcade for the fifth member of the team. Chang Wufei left a few moments earlier, perhaps to make sure the bullies didn't come back?
The boys looked at each other, then Quatre said softly, "He's on earth. Protecting Miss Relena. . .and. . .paying his respects." Treize looked at his companion. Paying his respects? What exactly did that mean? The other man sighed and waved his hand once more, leaving Treize to wonder if his hand ever got tired.
Now, they were staring at an endless field of gravestones. A slight figure knelt in front of one. A young boy, dressed in jeans and a white shirt. Treize's companion muttered, "Thank God he's not wearing that damn tanktop and shorts for once. We'll get back to Ciara and the boys in a moment. And ye were right. . .Wufei was making sure the bullies did not come back. But he wasn't alone." Treize frowned, not certain what the man meant by that.
And then his attention was drawn to the figure in front of the headstone. Heero Yuy said softly, "I've never done this before. Never sat in front of a gravestone and spoken with a person. Even now, I'm not sure you're really gone. I think I would be dead as well if you were. We're opposites of the same coin. You said, just before you initiated the self- destruct, that we would meet again. Maybe you meant on the other side."
Now, Treize could see that the name on the stone read 'Milliardo Peacecraft.' Heero continued, "I've spent years being the Perfect Soldier. No emotions, no doubts. Just the mission. And within a year, a brother and sister shattered everything I ever believed in. They taught me that I was wrong. You fought more fiercely than any perfect weapon ever could, because you sought to protect. You taught me much."
Heero reached out and traced the letters, murmuring, "And now, at the last, I understand. You were never my enemy, Zechs Merquise. We were on different sides, or so we thought. But we really were not. And because I did not know how, I never told you what I really meant. About the difference between being an obstacle and an enemy. I don't know why I'm saying this, since you can't hear me. Or maybe you can. I don't know."
Treize looked at his companion, who shook his head. Heero continued, "The others would never believe it if they saw me. Talking to the grave of someone who was supposedly my archenemy. But if you were my enemy, Zechs, why did you keep saving my life? If you were my enemy, why did you try so hard to protect me? You let Trowa rescue me. . .you took on Oz by yourself, allowing Trowa, Noin, Relena, and me to get away. . .and then you initiated the self-destruct, rather than allow me to self-detonate."
Heero shook his head, sighing. That was something else which Treize didn't know. He was learning a lot after his death, it would seem. The young Gundam pilot closed his eyes for a moment, then said, "I should have been more clear. After we battled, after the Sank Kingdom fell again. Epyon told me that you were an obstacle to my path. And you were. But you were the obstacle to my path as the Perfect Soldier. I didn't know how to tell you that. And so, you believed that I considered you to be my enemy.
"I wonder now. What would have happened, if we joined forces then. What would have been different? We'll never know. It's useless to speculate, but I still wonder. Damn you, Zechs. Damn you." But there was no real heat in his voice. Heero sighed again, and said, "Damn you for being who you were. Damn you for loving Relena as much as you did. Damn you for trying to protect us. For not letting me die. I'm not sure what I do now, Zechs. I've been a warrior my entire life. And now I have no one to fight. We never settled what was between us. And we never will. Damn you for taking that from me."
Now there was bitterness in his voice. Treize lowered his eyes briefly, then looked up once more. Heero looked up at the sky, then back at the headstone, as he continued, "And damn Relena for having you as a brother. You should have been my brother, Zechs, not my enemy. Maybe, in the next life. . .maybe next time, you will be my brother. My friend. Good-bye, Zechs Merquise. I hope you finally found whatever you were looking for."
He gently lay his hand on the stone, then rose to his feet. He walked away from the headstone and turned back. He looked to the sky briefly, then said, "And you don't have to worry about Relena. I'll protect her. I promise." And then he did walk away from the grave. Treize didn't know how to react. What to think. That, alone, was enough to rattle him. He was never at a loss like this before.
"We can look in on Ciara later. For now, there is more in the past which ye must see," his companion said softly. Treize nodded numbly, and once more, the screen changed. . .
Part One
When he was a small boy, Petyr Galinov's grandmother died. He was perhaps four years old at the time and at first, he remembered, it didn't sink in that he wouldn't see his grandmother anymore. And when it did, he was devastated. 'Devastated' was actually something of an understatement. He was inconsolable by Grandmere's death, until his older sister drew him into her arms. Looking back now, Petyr realized how he took his sister for granted. . .believing that his wonderful Natasha would always be there. And she was. But he wasn't.
In any event, Natasha soothed him, calmed him down, then told him that while they couldn't see Grandmere, or hear her, she was still with them. Watching over them. Loving them. And one day, many years in the future, they would see her again. In the meantime, he was to be a good boy, like he almost always was, so Grandmere would be proud.
More than fifteen years later, Petyr was now looking after his sister. He was happily reunited with his grandmother, if only for a brief time. Grandmere told him that one of them would remain behind, to watch over Natasha. Petyr, who didn't yet realize that he was dead, understood. His beloved sister's trials were just beginning. Grandmere wanted to stay. . .after all, Petyr was just a child. But Petyr was determined. It was his turn to take care of Natasha. For reasons which he still didn't fully understand, his grandmother acceded to his wishes.
Petyr reached out his hand, wanting to touch his sister. It seemed that she was closer now than she ever was. But at the last moment, he pulled his hand back. So, instead, he watched his sister. She was sleeping on her side, her dark hair falling over her face like a curtain. They arrived on L2 the previous night. After settling in Ciara and Zechs, Shawn and Natasha bid each other good-night, then headed to their own rooms. Petyr scowled at Shawn. Idiot. What was he thinking, leaving his marriage unconsummated?
However, his sister's marriage wasn't his focus today. He was due to get a visitor. . .who, Petyr realized, was late. It figured. The newcomers were almost always late. //It wouldn't surprise me,// Petyr snickered, //if they sent a spirit Gundam for this man instead of whatever he's expecting.// He immediately stopped his thoughts from going any further. This time of watching, wasn't about Petyr. It was about. . .forgiveness, for lack of a better word.
"Where. . .am I?" the voice asked and Petyr turned to face his companion. Well. It was about time. He eyed the newcomer. While Petyr was six years old at the time of his physical death, and would have been twenty years old, if he lived, it suited him to take the form of a twenty- five year old man, the same age of his new companion. A tall, broad- shouldered young man with light brown hair and blue eyes, made even more distinctive by winged eyebrows.
Petyr said in the Scottish burr which sounded so exotic to him when he first chose it, "Welcome, Treize Khushrenada. It's about bloody time ye got here. What, ye think just because ye were a general while ye walked the earth, ye could take yer own sweet time getting here?" General Treize Khushrenada blinked. Obviously, he wasn't used to someone his own age speaking to him in such a way. Except maybe Relena Peacecraft, or the gundam pilots.
However, the general said in his smooth voice, "I do apologize, I had no idea I was late. Was I supposed to be here. . .wherever 'here' happens to be. . .earlier? You obviously know my name. . .might you grant me the same courtesy?" Petyr raised his eyebrows at the other young man. He was actually capable of talking like a normal person???
However, he said, "Ye were supposed to be here. . .well, it's hours ago for us. Ye left the mortal plane six weeks ago, Treize Khushrenada. Come. There's somethin' I want ye to see." He began, indicating his sister, "Nata. . .Natalia Malloy." He caught himself just in time. He didn't want Treize Khushrenada to know his sister's name yet. Petyr went on, "Six weeks ago, she and her husband rescued a critically injured pilot."
"What final battle?" Treize asked and Petyr remembered he died before the destruction of the Libra. Petyr waved his hand, changing the scene to the final battle between Heero Yuy and Zechs Merquise. He looked at Treize, who mouthed, "Milliardo." His blue eyes filled with shock, and Treize whispered, "Heero Yuy accomplished what I could not, what Milliardo's own sister could not. Oh, Milliardo." Petyr waved his hand once more.
This time, the scene changed to Zechs sleeping in the room prepared for him by Olga. Petyr explained, "Zechs was critically injured in the resulting explosion. This young woman, Natalia Malloy, and her husband Shawn found Epyon floating in space. They pulled it aboard their salvage vessel and managed to save his life. That was six weeks ago. They won the battle to save his life. Now, the next part begins. The healing of his heart and soul."
"Why are you showing me this?" Treize asked softly, seemingly unable to tear his eyes away from the sleeping form of Zechs Merquise. Petyr took the choice from his hands, once more waving his hand to change the scene to his sleeping sister. Treize turned to face him, repeating, "Why are you showing me this?"
"I've shown ye Zechs Merquise's rebirth. Now, I want to show ye something else. The day Zechs Merquise was born," Petyr answered. Treize started to speak, but Petyr held up a hand, adding, "The first fall of the Sank Kingdom." Now it seemed that Treize couldn't speak, even if he tried. One more wave of Petyr's hand, and the scene was of an ivory castle, alive with the laughter of children. He whispered, mostly to himself, "The end of my life."
Sank Kingdom, AC 182
Six year old Petyr slid out from the huge car which carried him, his sister, and their parents from the airport in Sank City, to the palace. He slid neatly into the arms of his sister, who sighed, "Petyr, you are getting too heavy for me to carry! You are six years old, little brother, not a baby like Princess Relena."
"Be happy that Relena did not hear you call her a baby, Tasha," laughed a beautiful young woman, "she gets very indignant when Milliardo does so! Oh, I forgot, I must not call you 'Tasha' now. You are a young woman of sixteen. My apologies, Lady Natasha." Petyr's sister laughed and managed a curtsey, despite Petyr in her arms.
"That's perfectly acceptable, your Majesty. From you, I would never hesitate to accept it. To you, I shall ever be 'Tasha.' Speaking of which, Queen Katerina, where are the children?" sixteen year old Natasha Galinova asked as she straightened to her full height. Petyr saw their mother look at his sister, horrified.
The queen, ignoring the older woman, simply laughed and put her arm around Natasha's thin shoulders, drawing the girl close. She said, "Milliardo is with Pagan, for his fencing lesson. Tell me, young Petyr, have you learned to fence yet?" She looked at the six year old, who felt shy suddenly and buried his face in his sister's blouse.
Behind them, the king was speaking in low tones to Mama and Papa. He was a very tall man, even from Petyr's perch in Natasha's arms, with flowing white hair. In fact, he frightened Petyr a little until he saw the king smile unexpectedly. While they were on the way here, Mama and Papa told him that the king and queen were much like the Tsar and Tsarina. That alone frightened Petyr a little.
His papa told him that they were distant cousins to the Kirov family, but when he saw the tsar, his father never smiled. He acted almost as if he was afraid of the tsar. So, when Mama told him that the king was like the tsar, Petyr assumed the worst. Seeing the very tall man hadn't helped matters much, either.
But then, King Raoul. . .for he heard his father call the tall man Raoul. . .smiled, and that changed his entire face. Petyr couldn't hear what he said, but his father burst out laughing. His father. Was laughing. Queen Katerina smiled indulgently and told Natasha, "I believe his majesty is telling your parents about Relena's antics. She's the exact antithesis of Milliardo. He's so serious, and she's. . .well. . .a three year old. But, she always makes him laugh."
"I would like to hear this. . .and where is Relena? You said that Milliardo was with Pagan, for his fencing lesson, but you never finished telling us about Relena, your Majesty," Natasha observed. Petyr was restless and he began to squirm. Natasha looked down at him and sighed, "Ready to get down, are you? Just hold my hand, all right? I have no wish to lose you on our first day."
Petyr nodded. . .he wasn't quite brave enough to try exploring on his own yet. His sister set him on his feet, and as promised, Petyr held tightly to Natasha's hand. The queen waited until the brother and sister were ready, then said, "Tasha, I have known you since you were a small girl. Stop calling me 'your Majesty.' I've told your mother the same. I'm still 'Rina.' Remember?"
Petyr wondered what the queen meant by that, and why his sister was laughing. After a moment, Natasha replied, "I stand correct, yo. . .I mean, Rina. Forgive me." Petyr looked from his sister to the queen, then back again, completedly confused. Papa was wrong. These people were nothing like the tsar and the tsarina. . .nothing at all!
The Great Divide, AC 196
"I do not understand. . .who are the boy and girl? Although, the girl called 'Natasha' looks a great deal like the woman Natalia. That was fourteen years ago. . .is Natalia, Natasha grown up? She looks to be about the right age. Natasha was about fifteen or sixteen, although I thought Natalia was twenty-five," Treize observed quietly.
"Aye. She changed her name after the obscenity. Natasha Galinova, for that is the name of the family, became Natalia Gaston, Gaston being her mother's maiden name. And when she married Shawn Malloy, Natalia Gaston became Natalia Malloy. . .or, more simply, Talia," Petyr explained. Amazing. Treize Khushrenada could actually talk like a normal person. Or somewhat normal.
"But I still do not understand. What is so special about this girl, this woman, aside from the fact that she knew Milliardo when he was a child? That she was there when the attack occurred? The attack occurred the same day she and her family arrived?" Treize questioned. He was frowning, and Petyr smiled grimly. Hooked him.
"Nay, the attack took place a few weeks later. After the two families had a chance to get to know each other. . .or rather, reacquainted with each other. And that is part of what we will see next. Ye see, Natasha's father, Alexei Galinov, was about to be named Russia's ambassador to Sank. Ahh, now the name rings a bell with ye. Ye remember them, do you not?" Petyr asked.
"I remember," Treize murmured, "I was eleven at the time, but I remember how pleased my uncle was when he learned that Galinov would be in Sank at the time of the attack. He and Galinov always hated each other." Petyr rolled his eyes. Oh, now there was an understatement to end all understatements!
Sank Kingdom, AC 182
"So, old friend. . .what made you change your mind? You know that it will be a long time before you see Russia again," Raoul Peacecraft said as he sat down in his favorite chair. Alexei Galinov sighed as he sat down opposite his old friend. He argued with Nathalie about this very thing. . .or rather, its effect on the children.
"I know. In fact, that played into my decision. Natasha is sixteen years old, Raoul. Almost a young woman. As long as we remain in Russia, she will always be the daughter of a minor noble. You heard her at dinner tonight, and saw her with the children. She has the potential to be so much more! And the same is true of Petyr. In the Sank Kingdom, my children will have more opportunities," Alexei answered.
"Oh, I listened very carefully to your daughter tonight at dinner. And I noticed that Milliardo was hanging on her every word. I believe my oldest child is becoming quite infatuated with your oldest child," Raoul said with a smile, adding, "Tis a pity he is ten years her junior, we could arrange a marriage for them."
"We still could. My daughter would make a formidable queen," Alexei said seriously. Raoul blinked and Alexei remembered that his friend married for love. Unlike Alexei and Nathalie. Theirs was an arranged marriage, as was done in the old tradition. Alexei wasn't sure if he envied his friend or not.
"I have no doubt of that. . .but she is a bright young woman. It would be foolish of us to presuppose she could not choose a husband wisely. Katerina was only a few years older than Tasha when we wed," Raoul answered. Alexei nodded and Raoul added, "Enough of this conversation. Milliardo is only six years old. Thinking of him getting married means thinking of grandchildren, and I have no wish to think of grandchildren as yet. Besides. There are other things we must discuss, old friend. Vital things, since you are to be my new ambassador."
"The Alliance," Alexei guessed and his friend scowled, reminding the Russian diplomat of the boy he met years earlier, when they were both young soldiers convinced of their own immortality. Alexei continued, "I thought as much. I have heard disquieting rumors in Moscow. You think they plan to undermine the Sank Kingdom's call for disarming?"
Raoul rose to his feet, walking to the huge bay window. Alexei did not press his friend. When Raoul was ready to speak, he would. Until then, Alexei would hold his peace. At last, Raoul turned back to face him and replied, "Something is coming, old friend. That is why I requested you. I want someone I trust at my side. When the Alliance makes its attempt, and they will. . .I will need your help. Quite possibly the help of your entire family."
"You shall have it, your Majesty," Alexei promised. He knew he was promising a great deal. But he also knew he would rather die than leave his friend alone to face whatever the Alliance was planning to do. His next words were almost rash for a man his age, but when it came to this family, Alexei was still a fifteen year old boy. He told his friend, "I swear, I will do whatever it takes to protect your children. We will all protect the prince and princess."
Raoul smiled at him, that brilliant smile which Alexei had always felt privileged to see, for it was so rare. The king said, "Well. Enough of this serious talk. I want to hear more about your children. Petyr is growing so quickly. . .I do believe he's taller than Milliardo!" Alexei chuckled, as he always did when someone mentioned his son. What was it Natasha called Petyr? Their little ray of sunshine?
"Yes, but Milliardo has an easier time talking than my son does. Perhaps because he speaks more slowly, and thinks of what he wants to say. I am grateful to Katerina, however, for giving Petyr special permission to call your son by his middle name. Raoul. . .why in the name of all that's holy. . .?" Alexei began.
"Did we name him 'Milliardo,' old friend? That's a very long story. For now, let's rejoin the ladies. I believe bedtime is coming for the children, and I know you want to say good night to your son. The last I saw, Relena was falling asleep in your daughter's arms. She took to Tasha rather quickly. I think Tasha playing 'flying Relena' may have something to do with that. A new game," Raoul observed.
Alexei chuckled, remembering the sight of his daughter scooping the three year old princess into her arms and 'flying' her around the room, carefully avoiding anything crystal or glass. The little princess squealed with a combination of delight and terror, as only a three year old can. He said, "A game she can only play with my daughter, as Milliardo is entirely too small to attempt such a feat."
Raoul nearly spit out his wine, laughing, then composed himself. Still, his brilliant blue eyes twinkled with suppressed laughter. Milliardo inherited his father's eyes, Alexei realized earlier that afternoon. Strange, he never truly paid attention to the little heir. Not until this visit. Perhaps it was because the boy was growing up. Perhaps because his daughter's proximity to adulthood reminded him how quickly children do grow up, often without a parent noticing.
"Yes, but Milliardo has not yet learned his own limits. He would never willingly hurt his sister, but after seeing how Relena reacted to Tasha's game, he might try to make Relena fly as well," Raoul answered dryly. Alexei nodded. . .he noticed the same thing. The little prince pushed himself to his very limits, and beyond. A commendable trait in an adult, but Milliardo was just a child.
Alexei observed, "He is very harsh with himself. I realize that he is your heir, the prince, but Raoul, I fear for him. He wants your approval more than anything. I fear what will happen to him if he believed that he disappointed you in some way." He could tell from his friend's expression that the same thing occurred to Raoul.
"I am a coward, old friend. It is so easy for me to tell Milliardo what I dream of. But I lack the courage to sweep him into my arms, and tell him that I love him," Raoul answered. Alexei frowned. . .that was impossible! He saw Raoul with Relena! Then again, he acted the same way with Natasha. He loved his only daughter with an intensity that sometimes frightened him. But he could never bring himself to show that love. Still, he was sure that Tasha knew how much he loved her. For some reason, it was so much easier to show his affection to Petyr.
"It always seems that no matter what we do, we end up hurting our children. Well then. I would say that no matter what the Alliance plans, I should make sure that my son always knows how much I love him. How proud I am of him. For, in the end, is that not the reason for pacifism? To make sure our children never have to fight?" Raoul asked, raising an eyebrow at the same time he raised his wine glass.
Alexei smiled and raised his wine glass to his old friend, replying, "To our children, to pacifism, and to the past. To the happy accident that brought the brash son of a Russian diplomat and the heir to the Sank Kingdom together twenty years ago." Raoul smiled at the reminder of their first meeting and clinked his glass against Alexei's.
"To our children, then. I think perhaps I will write him a letter. I always express myself much better in writing," Raoul answered and Alexei almost laughed. Almost.
The Great Divide, AC 196
"So, King Peacecraft knew something was coming. Did he ever write that letter to Milliardo, like he said he would?" Treize Khushrenada as the image of the two men faded from the 'screen.' There was no other way to put it, really. It seemed to be a huge screen of some kind, which shrunk or expanded according to the need of the moment.
When he was a small child, Treize found several ancient tapes of a series from pre-colony years in the library of his older brother, Stefan. It frightened him, especially the opener of. . . what was it called? Oh yes. That was right. 'The Outer Limits.' But the screen reminded him of that show now. Strange. Treize hadn't thought of that in years. He found the tapes again as a teenager, while Milliardo was visiting.
Treize smiled, remembering Milliardo's reaction to several episodes. Then again, with the horror of his early life, it was far more difficult to frighten Milliardo. His companion, who still had not favored Treize with a name, broke into his thoughts, saying, "Aye, he knew somethin' was comin,' but unfortunately, he didna realize what a high price he would have to pay for bein' wrong about the kind of trouble."
He paused, waving his hand to show the Malloy family and Milliardo awakening and leaving the house. Milliardo's pale blond hair looked shorter, but Treize realized that it was merely tucked under. It gave the impression that his hair was much shorter than it truly was. In addition, he was dressed simply in jeans and a t-shirt, with a sweatshirt tied around his waist, and a baseball cap covering his eyes. Simple and effective. Treize murmured, "Very clever. She makes sure that he blends in."
"What makes ye so sure that Natasha is the one who came up with the disguise?" his companion asked, then added, "Oh, and as for yer question about King Raoul, the answer is, none of yer concern. That is between him and his son. Nothin' to do with ye." Treize blinked at the outright hostility coming from his companion.
However, he only replied, "I am not sure how I knew Natasha came up with the disguise. I just. . .knew. Did she become a warrior after she left earth? She has that purity to her, a soldier's purity." Treize stared at the young woman. She really did look much younger than the thirty or thirty-one she had to be. Especially with her long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and a baseball cap of her own covering most of her face in shadow. They were all dressed in varying uniforms of jeans and t-shirts.
His companion snorted and said, "I always wondered if ye meant that bullshit ye spouted about the purity and nobility of war. Guess I have my answer." Treize blinked again. This man did not like him. At all. Not that Treize truly cared. He had not attained the rank of general by caring who disliked him or not.
He replied, "Tis what I believe. And what of Natasha Galinova, Natalia Malloy? What does she believe?" Treize was fascinated with the woman who aided in the rescue of Milliardo. She stayed near his side, while the young girl. . .her daughter. . .remained with her father. She was pouting, Treize noted. . .the girl was pouting. Because she wanted to be with Milliardo?
"She believes in keeping her family safe. She lost everything when Sank fell. She hates war, sees no nobility in carnage and destruction. But to borrow a phrase from her step-daughter Ciara, ye are NOT one of her favorite people. Same is true of her husband," the other man replied. Treize turned to ask about that, but his companion said, "Shut up and watch. Ye might actually learn something." And once more, the screen changed.
Sank Kingdom, AC 182
"Tasha, Tasha, Tasha, I never want to leave!" Petyr exclaimed. Natasha Galinova put down her book and smiled at her younger brother. They were here for almost two weeks, and he quickly made himself at home. At the moment, he was fighting off sleep. The prince and princess were both napping, and Petyr was still running on pure excitement. It was just a matter of time before he crashed.
When he finally calmed down, she would take him upstairs and put him to bed. At the insistence of the little prince, Petyr was sharing his room. Natasha and her mother agreed that Petyr needed a little more time to wear himself out, so he didn't keep the prince awake. Katerina acknowledged that the child was VERY cranky without his nap.
"Well, we'll be here for a few days after the ball, then we'll return to Russia for our belongings. King Raoul asked me if I would be like to attend Sank University. He wants to turn Sank into a mecca for students," Natasha said in a dreamy voice. And she wanted desperately to go to Sank University. She wasn't sure yet what she would study, but she had two years to figure that out. The king agreed, telling her that she had the rest of her life. Yes. . .she was only sixteen, and the world stretched out in front of her. She thought about studying medicine, or biology, but realized that wasn't what she wanted for the rest of her life.
Psychology, then? History? Philosophy? Political science? Languages? Become a diplomat like her father? The possibilities seemed endless to her, the opportunities made her head spin. Her brother interrupted her dreams by inquiring, "A mecca? Whazzat?"
Natasha shook herself, bringing herself back to earth, and put her arm around her brother. He was already winding down. Oh, he still fought it, but it would be less than an hour before he was out like a light. She replied, trying to think of something that he would understand, as he snuggled close, "A mecca is. . .well, a holy place. To some people, learning is holy."
"Uhmmm. I like Julian, Tasha. He doesn't smile enough, but he's nice. Lets me play with his toys. The only time he gets mad if someone says something mean about Relena. She's funny. Was I that funny when I was a baby like her?" Petyr inquired. He was almost asleep now. Natasha grinned. A baby, hmm? She didn't point out to him that he was only three and a half years older than Relena.
Instead, she shifted him in her arms, so he was lying across her lap. It would make it easier for her to carry him upstairs. Natasha smiled, remembering the little prince's explanation when his parents asked him why he wanted Petyr to share his room. He wasn't used to being around other little boys, and he was curious. Natasha said, gently caressing her brother's reddish hair, "Oh, yes. In fact, I think you were even funnier. And you are absolutely right. The prince should smile more."
Petyr's only answer was to sigh. The older sister looked down at the younger brother with a gentle smile. He was out like a light. Gently, to avoid waking him, Natasha scooped him into her arms, holding him gently against her body, and carried him from the room. On the way upstairs, she passed Senator Dorlian. The young man smiled, his brown eyes flickering from the sleeping child to the teenager, and Natasha smiled back a bit ruefully.
The room where the prince now slept was almost totally dark, the only light came from the sun streaming through the blinds. It was enough light for Natasha to reach the bed without tripping. She gently placed Petyr on the mattress, carefully removing his shoes. Petyr moaned in his sleep and turned on his side, away from her, and Natasha covered him up. She kissed his forehead, murmuring, "Sleep well, little brother. We have a great deal to do."
Before she left the room, Natasha quietly checked on Prince Milliardo. The little boy lay on his back, breathing evenly. He was smiling softly, and Natasha wondered what he was dreaming about. Pleasant dreams, she hoped. She hoped that for once, the little boy was happy, rather than solemn. Natasha leaned forward and lightly kissed his blond curls, murmuring, "Dream well, little prince. Dream well."
She wearily returned to the sitting room. The adults went into the city, to find a dress for Natasha's mother, leaving Natasha and Pagan behind to look after the children. Senator Dorlian and his wife stayed an extra hour, just to make sure the pair had everything under control, and as Natasha descended the stairs, she smiled at the couple.
"Both boys are asleep, then?" Renata Dorlian asked and Natasha bobbed her head. The matron continued, "Maybe you should think about getting some rest as well. I know Petyr and Relena have been running you ragged, and you're a growing girl yet. And, you must think of the ball tomorrow night. Pagan can run things while you rest."
Natasha was on the point of demurring, when Pagan entered and said, "That sounds like an excellent idea, Lady Natasha." Natasha grimaced to herself. She wished people wouldn't call her that. But it came with the territory, and she learned years ago to simply accept it. However, she quickly convinced both Milliardo and Relena to call her 'Tasha,' since that was much easier for Relena's three year old palate to enunciate. And Milliardo. . .
Was a very sweet little boy. Shy. Solemn. But very, very sweet. Pagan added, breaking into her thoughts, "I can watch over all three of the sleeping angels. Get some sleep, Lady Natasha. You'll have need of it when the boys awaken, especially your brother." Natasha rolled her eyes, but had to admit that he was right. Petyr, as much as she loved him, could be. . .a handful. And Relena showed the same signs of being equally willful. A tendency her brother seemed to have, but his was cloaked by reserve. He would probably be more dangerous.
"All right. . .I am convinced. Just awaken me when my parents arrive? They would not be happy if I failed to keep a promise I made to them," the young girl said. Pagan inclined his head, but not before she saw a gleam in the fencing master's eyes. Which meant it was unlikely he would awaken her. Damn. She hated having to rely on her alarm clock. She had a bad tendency to sleep through the alarm, a tendency she was trying to break.
She curtseyed to the fencing master, and the couple, then went back upstairs to her own room. As she stepped inside, a faint smile crossed her face. Katerina gleaned from her letters over the last six months what kind of art, furnishings, and decorations appealed to Natasha. In turn, Katerina turned the room which would be Natasha's for the next two years into a dream room with aid from artist friends.
It was her private sanctuary. Not even Petyr came in here. The only person who came in here, aside from Katerina, was Relena. The little girl, she learned, 'helped' by 'painting' a picture for the unknown teenager who would inhabit the room. Natasha collapsed onto her bed with a sigh. Pagan was right. She was exhausted. Made even worse by the conversation she overheard between her father and the king the previous night, while her mother and Rina were talking in the sitting room. Natasha went upstairs to check on the children.
On her way back to the sitting room, she passed the study. King Raoul said, "Dermail will be at the ball. I know you and he do not like each other, I wanted you to know ahead of time." Her father's answer was a series of expletives. Natasha didn't think her father knew most of those words. She learned a great deal from boarding school, which she hadn't shared with her parents or her brother. When she felt the situation called for it, she could swear like a soldier or a sailor. Like most teenagers who were raised in her circle, Natasha believed her austere father didn't know half the swear words she did.
He proved her wrong with that outburst. Once he was calm enough to speak rationally, her father said, "That man is trouble. His entire family is trouble. But I suppose I must kill him with kindness, as ever. But you have my word on one thing, Raoul. He is getting nowhere near my daughter. Not just because she's a lovely young girl, although that concerns me as well. But I fear him engaging her in a political discussion. That could be disastrous."
"You should give your daughter more credit. She is, after all, the child of a diplomat. I have no doubt that Tasha is just as capable of killing him with kindness in her own way, as you are in yours," King Raoul answered, and Natasha was stunned to hear a hint of laughter in the monarch's voice.
She was even more stunned to hear her father laugh outright, answering, "Yes, I am sure she is. She has had sixteen years of watching her mother and myself. Raoul, do we put too much, too many burdens on our children? Should Milliardo and Natasha not be enjoying themselves, instead of being used as photo opportunities?"
Natasha frowned. She never heard her father talk like this. The king sighed, "Neither of us can change what we are, Alexei. Milliardo is my heir, he will rule one day. I want him to have laughter in his childhood, but he must be prepared for what may happen." There was a pause, then the king asked, "Alexei? If the unthinkable happens, might I name you and Nathalie as Milliardo's regents?" Natasha stifled her gasp, her eyes widening at the king's request.
"Raoul! You must not talk like that!" her father blurted out, echoing Natasha's own thoughts. Her father continued, "Our warrior days were over years ago, once we realized that the Peacecraft heritage could not be denied. Once you became as sick of warfare as your predecessors had. We are not boys any longer, Raoul, we are not young men."
"And my son is not a man. . .he is a child. Someone must fight for him, Alexei, until he is old enough and strong enough to fight for himself. Would you place such a heavy burden on the shoulders of a six year old boy? Would you force him to face the world alone? It is not unthinkable, my friend. It is very, very possible, that I will not live to see my son become a man," the king answered.
He paused, then continued, "If I am correct, if I do not live to see my son grow to adulthood, then I want my oldest and dearest friend there to watch over him. I want him, and Relena, to have you and Nathalie as their parents, Natasha and Petyr as their siblings. Do I ask so much, old friend?" Natasha left her hiding place before she heard anything more. She was too shaken by what she already heard.
She knew about Duke Dermail, of course. She was the daughter of a diplomat, as was her roommate, Beatriz Escalante. Natasha and Beatriz knew about the heads of state around the world. Although, in the case of Duke Dermail, he was also one of the leaders of the Romefellar Foundation. She didn't know, exactly, what the Romefellar Foundation was. But she did know that the duke was trouble. Her. . .sense. . .told her so.
Natasha was half-French and half-Russian, and from her Russian grandmother, she inherited a sense about things. It was very difficult to explain. But she simply knew things. People didn't understand that. It was one reason why she never discussed with anyone. Except Rina. Then again, Rina was the only person who knew Natasha inside and out. Aside from Beatriz, the queen was the only person whom Natasha trusted implicitly.
Natasha returned to her mother and Katerina, deeply concerned by what she heard. She made few contributions to the conversation. King Raoul was troubled by something. Natasha heard things in boarding school. . .she attended school with the daughters of some of the most influential people in the world. It was hard NOT to hear things. Now, less than a day later, Natasha once more thought of what she heard before her father pulled her out of school for this journey. More and more nations were taking up the call for disarmament. More and more people were following the Peacecraft example. That was wonderful. But Natasha was afraid.
Beatriz summed it up when they were discussing the movement toward peace. Her own father was in Romefellar, and she observed there were many people, who did not want peace. //They,// Beatriz said, glancing at Natasha, //are a threat to the Peacecraft dream. And that is what it is. A dream of peace. A wonderful dream, but a dream nonetheless. I would advise the Peacecrafts to be wary.// Natasha nodded, understanding.
Lying in bed, Natasha shivered as she remember her roommate's warning. //She was trying to warn me about something specific,// Natasha thought, //that will happen soon. But what? She couldn't tell me directly. When the others get back, I must talk to the King.// Natasha made that resolution and drifted to sleep. She didn't realize it, but she left the door adjar. Only moments after she drifted off to sleep, the door was pushed open by a tiny hand. Princess Relena had a nightmare, and Mama wasn't here. Tasha, however, was.
The Great Divide, AC 196
The scene returned to the small family, but Treize Khushrenada was thinking about other things. About what he just saw. He was eleven years old when the Sank Kingdom fell. //They knew something was coming,// Treize thought, //all of them did. And the only one who really had any idea about what was coming, didn't understand the clue which her friend was trying to give her. A sixteen year old girl.//
He realized for the first time that he, Une, Milliardo, and Relena weren't the only ones who grew up quickly. Treize still didn't know exactly what happened to Natasha Galinova on the day of the Sank attack, but he could already see that it changed her. //She knew something was coming, something terrible, but it never occurred to her that it was an attack?// Treize thought with the advantage of hindsight.
"Do not presume to judge her, Treize Khushrenada. Ye have not seen everything. In a moment, ye will see more. But there is something in the present which needs to be viewed. Look," his companion said. Ignoring the surly young man's comments, Treize did look at the present picture. The young girl wandered away from her father, and for the first time, Treize realized that she had dark blond hair. Both Natasha/Natalia and the father had dark hair.
//Which means,// Treize thought, //that she probably is not Natasha's daughter. Her coloring is more like the man's.// However, he shook his head and concentrated on what he was seeing. The girl slipped away from her father to play in the arcade. She looked to be about twelve or thirteen, that transition between child and woman. Her young face held the promise of beauty to come. //Yes,// Treize decided, //she is the man's child, not Natasha's. The bone structure is wrong for her to be Natasha's daughter.//
The girl began playing a game, her blue-gray eyes intent on the screen. She was playing for perhaps fifteen minutes when a group of older kids, perhaps seventeen or eighteen years old, swaggered into the arcade. Treize stiffened. Bullies. Trouble. This was borne out a moment later when one of them shoved the girl away from the game. She stumbled, then righted herself and swung around to face them. Her dark blonde hair swung about her shoulders, her eyes blazing. The kids were laughing at her. . .one stayed beside the game and started playing in the girl's place. Another stood between her and the game, thumbs hooked through the loops of his jeans, a smirk on his face. The others were just watching and laughing.
The girl seemed to be frozen, though Treize could see in her eyes that she wanted to fight back. He saw that expression in the eyes of a young boy, before those eyes were obscured by a helmut. Milliardo. Yes. She reminded him in that moment of eleven year old Milliardo. Angry. Defiant. The boy pushed her again, harder, so that she was knocked into a game. The figure at the game reached out a hand to steady her, saying in a drawling voice, "Now, that wasn't very nice of you. Didn't your mamas teach you to play nice?" Treize's eyes widened. He knew that voice.
The owner of the voice turned away from the game, revealing a young boy, dressed in black. His long brown hair was worn in a braid which reached past his hips. He smirked, then said, "Now, this little lady was playing the game before you. Why don't you let her finish what she's doing, and then you can have your turn?" //I do know him,// Treize thought, //it's one of the Gundam pilots. Zero-two, unless I miss my guess. Duo Maxwell. Is he alone here?//
"Why don't you stay out of things which don't concern you?" the first boy snarled. Treize found himself holding his breath. What would the brash young Gundam pilot do? He was one, the gang was at least four or five. However, Treize didn't count on one thing. Duo Maxwell wasn't alone. Three other boys appeared, including a slender young Chinese boy. Chang Wufei. Treize smiled faintly.
The boy's dark eyes burned as he snarled at the bullies, "It does concern us. It always concerns us when the strong threaten the weak! How dare you, a group of four, threaten a child? Have you no sense of justice?" Treize saw the girl start to protest. . .'who are you callin' weak,' he saw forming on her lips, but Duo put his hand on her shoulder, effectively silencing her.
"We don't want any trouble. Just leave this young lady in peace, and we can all walk away from this," the blond boy said earnestly. He took up position on the other side of the girl, putting a protective arm around her shoulders. Quatre Raberba Winner. Pilot Zero-Four, and the de facto leader of the group. At his side was Trowa Barton, pilot zero-three, a serene mask seeming to be at odds with his young face.
So where was Heero Yuy? His companion murmured, "Ye'll see in a moment. Just watch. And by the way, the lass is called 'Ciara.' Was getting a little tired of ye callin' her 'the girl.' She has a name. And now, you know what that name is." Treize blinked. Would he ever get used to someone reading his thoughts? His companion added, "In time. Now shut up and watch." He was fond of saying that, it seemed. Shut up and watch, or something along those lines. Treize wondered if he was like that in life, then dismissed the thoughts.
Instead, he turned his attention back to the screen. Realizing that they no longer out-numbered their prey. . .and being at least wise enough to realize that the young Chinese boy could be trouble, the leader of the bullies snarled, "This isn't over, pretty boy. We'll meet again, I can promise that."
The four wandered away, each glaring daggers at the four Gundam pilots. . .and received glares in answer. Once they were gone, Quatre turned to the girl, asking, "Are you all right, miss? Did they hurt you?" The other three pilots formed a protective semi-circle around the girl, each face mirroring Quatre's concern.
"I'm okay. Thanks. You. . .you're pilots, aren't you? The pilots of those five gundams?" Ciara asked. The four boys looked at each other in shock, then looked at her. Ciara kind of shrugged and said, "I've been living in space my entire life. I watched the battle with Oz and White Fang. I know who you are. And my. . .uncle. . .he fought in that war. He was with White Fang. Almost died in the final battle."
The word 'uncle' was spoken hesitantly, and Treize looked at his companion. The other man clarified, "Natasha has been telling people that Zechs is her brother. As ye've probably guessed, Ciara is infatuated with him. It is for that reason that this part of the deception does not set well with her, but she understands the reasons for it."
Treize nodded, understanding. Duo Maxwell said, "Your uncle was in White Fang? Did he ever tell you why they. . .what the hell Milliardo Peacecraft or Zechs Merquise, or whatever the hell he wanted to call himself. . .what he was trying to do? Trowa tried to explain it to me once, but I still don't get what he was thinking."
"Don't you? I do," Treize murmured. His red-haired companion glared at him, and the late general fell silent. One day, he would have to find out why this man hated him so. Preferably sooner, rather than later.
"He was trying to end war, for all time, my uncle told me. He said that Commander Peacecraft believed the source of all conflict was the earth, and that's why he planned to collide Libra with earth," Ciara explained earnestly. Deception was difficult for her, but she obviously believed what she was now saying.
"Make the people of earth understand how terrible war really is, so they will never want to make war again," Trowa said quietly. Ciara looked at the dark-haired boy, surprised, then bobbed her head. Trowa continued, "What's your uncle's name? We battled White Fang, and thought we retrieved everyone."
"Zachary Gaston. His name is Zachary Gaston. He was an MS pilot. He was acting as an escort for the evacuation from the Libra, and he turned back to help destroy it. He didn't get clear in time. My mom heard about the battle and she was afraid for him, so we went there," Ciara answered. Treize lifted an eybrow. For someone not accustomed to deception, she was doing a lovely job of it.
"She's speakin' the truth, General, just editing certain facts. Ye should know that yerself, the difference between lies of commission and the lies of omission. Ye did it all the time," the man snorted. He turned blazing eyes to Treize, adding, "Like, when ye tricked the Gundam pilots, specifically Heero Yuy, into killing General Noventa for ye. Don't ye dare to judge that girl. She lies to protect her family from further harm. What was yer reason?"
Treize wasn't sure how he knew, but he realized that he discovered one of the reasons why this man disliked him. He said, "I did what was necessary. Noventa was leading us to a false peace." The man snorted, obviously disgusted for his own reasons, and Treize said, barely keeping control of his own anger, "I have no need to explain myself to you. I will answer for my actions, but not to you."
"AYE! Ye will answer to the one who Created ye. Not today, for there's a long line of people to be judged ahead of ye. But for now, ye will see what yer actions wrought. What the actions of yer uncle, Duke Dermail, wrought. First, ye should see the rest of this little drama," the other man said. He nodded back to the screen. Against his will, Treize returned his attention back to the screen.
They missed something, for Ciara was now blurting out, "Milliardo Peacecraft IS not evil! How can you say that? Did you know him, did you know what he was doing? Do you know why he did what he did? Quatre, you took out two colonies while you were under the influence of the Zero system. How many people died? You're not evil, are you? Then why does Zechs have to be evil?"
"You say 'is.' Do you know he escaped from the destruction of the Libra after he helped to take out the engine?" Trowa asked. A momentary flicker of fear crossed the young girl's face, and Treize wondered if he was the only one who saw it. He could see, however, from a flicker in Trowa Barton's emerald eyes that he was not. Ciara didn't see, however. Her small body was tense, her stance defiant.
"I don't know that he didn't survive. No one ever found that monster he piloted. Speaking of monsters. . .what about Wing Zero? What about Heero Yuy? Where's he?" Ciara asked, looking around the arcade for the fifth member of the team. Chang Wufei left a few moments earlier, perhaps to make sure the bullies didn't come back?
The boys looked at each other, then Quatre said softly, "He's on earth. Protecting Miss Relena. . .and. . .paying his respects." Treize looked at his companion. Paying his respects? What exactly did that mean? The other man sighed and waved his hand once more, leaving Treize to wonder if his hand ever got tired.
Now, they were staring at an endless field of gravestones. A slight figure knelt in front of one. A young boy, dressed in jeans and a white shirt. Treize's companion muttered, "Thank God he's not wearing that damn tanktop and shorts for once. We'll get back to Ciara and the boys in a moment. And ye were right. . .Wufei was making sure the bullies did not come back. But he wasn't alone." Treize frowned, not certain what the man meant by that.
And then his attention was drawn to the figure in front of the headstone. Heero Yuy said softly, "I've never done this before. Never sat in front of a gravestone and spoken with a person. Even now, I'm not sure you're really gone. I think I would be dead as well if you were. We're opposites of the same coin. You said, just before you initiated the self- destruct, that we would meet again. Maybe you meant on the other side."
Now, Treize could see that the name on the stone read 'Milliardo Peacecraft.' Heero continued, "I've spent years being the Perfect Soldier. No emotions, no doubts. Just the mission. And within a year, a brother and sister shattered everything I ever believed in. They taught me that I was wrong. You fought more fiercely than any perfect weapon ever could, because you sought to protect. You taught me much."
Heero reached out and traced the letters, murmuring, "And now, at the last, I understand. You were never my enemy, Zechs Merquise. We were on different sides, or so we thought. But we really were not. And because I did not know how, I never told you what I really meant. About the difference between being an obstacle and an enemy. I don't know why I'm saying this, since you can't hear me. Or maybe you can. I don't know."
Treize looked at his companion, who shook his head. Heero continued, "The others would never believe it if they saw me. Talking to the grave of someone who was supposedly my archenemy. But if you were my enemy, Zechs, why did you keep saving my life? If you were my enemy, why did you try so hard to protect me? You let Trowa rescue me. . .you took on Oz by yourself, allowing Trowa, Noin, Relena, and me to get away. . .and then you initiated the self-destruct, rather than allow me to self-detonate."
Heero shook his head, sighing. That was something else which Treize didn't know. He was learning a lot after his death, it would seem. The young Gundam pilot closed his eyes for a moment, then said, "I should have been more clear. After we battled, after the Sank Kingdom fell again. Epyon told me that you were an obstacle to my path. And you were. But you were the obstacle to my path as the Perfect Soldier. I didn't know how to tell you that. And so, you believed that I considered you to be my enemy.
"I wonder now. What would have happened, if we joined forces then. What would have been different? We'll never know. It's useless to speculate, but I still wonder. Damn you, Zechs. Damn you." But there was no real heat in his voice. Heero sighed again, and said, "Damn you for being who you were. Damn you for loving Relena as much as you did. Damn you for trying to protect us. For not letting me die. I'm not sure what I do now, Zechs. I've been a warrior my entire life. And now I have no one to fight. We never settled what was between us. And we never will. Damn you for taking that from me."
Now there was bitterness in his voice. Treize lowered his eyes briefly, then looked up once more. Heero looked up at the sky, then back at the headstone, as he continued, "And damn Relena for having you as a brother. You should have been my brother, Zechs, not my enemy. Maybe, in the next life. . .maybe next time, you will be my brother. My friend. Good-bye, Zechs Merquise. I hope you finally found whatever you were looking for."
He gently lay his hand on the stone, then rose to his feet. He walked away from the headstone and turned back. He looked to the sky briefly, then said, "And you don't have to worry about Relena. I'll protect her. I promise." And then he did walk away from the grave. Treize didn't know how to react. What to think. That, alone, was enough to rattle him. He was never at a loss like this before.
"We can look in on Ciara later. For now, there is more in the past which ye must see," his companion said softly. Treize nodded numbly, and once more, the screen changed. . .
