We know it's been quite a while. Forgive us & enjoy the chapter.
Disclaimer: We do not own any of these characters. We'll get over it. Someday. Maybe…
* * *
"If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we should find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility."
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
ACROSS ENEMY LINES
Chapter 4: The Homecoming
Unable to sleep, Relena dressed quickly just before dawn that morning and slipped out of the humbled palace to go through what was left of the gardens after the previous night's bombing raid. Most of the grounds were in ruins. Charred grass and ashen trees telltale evidence of the ruthless attack – an attack he had said would happen, an attack she still couldn't believe.
And as she walked along, taking in the heartbreaking confirmation of misguided faith in a man she had known all her life, a single thought rang through her head. "Milliardo is coming back."
Not really sure where she was headed, she ended up in a place she hadn't been in months. As she knelt beside her father's grave in the family cemetery, she wished she had brought some flowers to place at the foot of the headstone – the gardenia bush she had planted last time was withered and dying.
A slight breeze blew and tossed a few loose strands of hair about her face, as the deep purple sky to the east grew lighter with every passing moment. Absently, she picked at a few blades of grass, tearing them in her hand and tossing them up to dance away on the wind. She smiled wistfully and then turned back to address King Peacecraft's grave.
"Milliardo is coming back today, father. I know that when you were alive, you were angry with him, but you were only mad because you loved him and you wanted more for him than the life of a soldier. He's got a kind heart, just like yours, I can see so much of you in him. I just wish I could understand…" Her voice trailed off as the memory of glass shattering, the world erupting, and her body being thrown to the floor came to her mind again. She closed her eyes, wanting to shut it out, but the fear – the fear was still too vivid.
"There was a bombing raid last night, father. I now can understand why they call the citizens of London so brave. They have survived night after night of this and still their army fights. I don't believe in fighting, but I can appreciate their courage, their strength. I don't know if I would have been able to handle it, though, if Heero hadn't been there." She remembered the way he had protected her, diving quickly to the ground to shield her body with his own. He hadn't had time to think, and yet he hadn't hesitated.
She opened her eyes and smiled. "Oh, I guess I should tell you about him. But where do I start? I know so little about him, really, and yet it seems like I already know all I need. I would like to think that you would approve of him, father, even though he is a soldier. Even though he is an American soldier. He is not like anyone I've ever met before – his eyes are so intense all the time. He is so strong." She recalled the feeling of his arms around her, and how it felt to hold him for a brief instant before reality had come crashing over them – ruining their stolen moment.
"He told me that he had seen Germany's plans to invade our country, to attack our kingdom, and like the blind fool I was, I called him a liar. But when he was proved right all along, he didn't gloat. I was outraged and embarrassed. To have offered sanctuary to these poor men only to put them back in the middle of a war zone was never what I wanted for them – for him." She brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, hugging her legs to her chest, the memory of him vivid in her mind.
"I could have done something stupid, putting all my people at risk, and yet he stopped me. He protected me, and comforted me – after I had told him he was wrong and doubted him, he held me and told me he had faith in me. I think, father, that was the moment I began to fall in love with him." She blinked back tears and drew in a breath after uttering that heavy statement. Love, it sounded so innocent and pure. And it was. But the sentiment came with so many complications and consequences. She raised her head and looked again at the King's headstone, her voice cracking slightly with emotion as she began to speak to him again.
"Oh father, what am I going to do? What will Milliardo say when he comes? Will he have an explanation? Will he make more promises to protect us? Can I believe him?" She took a deep breath as she considered that question for a moment. Her voice dropped to a lower pitch and she shook her head as she answered herself, "I don't think I can."
"I never did believe in the Reich's philosophies. I hate everything they stand for, and everything they've done. But they have been our protector. And I have pushed the envelope by taking in these American soldiers, I know, but I wouldn't change anything I've done. But what will he say, father? What will happen if he finds out that I care so much for a man who is his enemy?" She bit her lip to stop it from trembling, but couldn't keep herself from fidgeting. Her hands folded and unfolded until finally the restlessness got the better of her, forcing Relena to her feet.
"I wish you were here, I wish you could tell me what to do, and lend this kingdom strength that I cannot. I feel so lost sometimes, father, so inadequate to rule." She glanced up at the sky that was now a bright blue with the new morning and felt the sun warm her skin. The heat contrasted deeply with the chill of anxiety in her veins.
"The longer this conflict goes on, the more certain I become that I will have to choose a side to stand with. But which one should I choose?" She brought her hands up to either side of her face as if trying to block out the world and the war that caused so much pain.
"My choice has just become so much more difficult, and I've never had quite so much to lose before now. Can I turn my back on my brother?" She dropped her hands back to her sides, her fists clenching unconsciously in the fabric of her skirt. "And if I cannot, will I be forced to betray my new friends and my...this man I have come to care so much for?"
She bent and pressed her lips to the cold marble of her father's last resting place, then slowly rose back to a standing position. A cool breeze swept in, forcing her to cross her arms over her chest for warmth. She stood for a moment in silent contemplation of the responsibilities that she had to carry on her own.
"I miss you, father, but it is well you did not live to witness these times, this war, such choices. My first duty should always be to protect my people. But what about my heart? Or is war's greatest casualty not suffered by the men left on the field of battle, but by the love shattered in a woman's heart?" She swallowed against the lump that had formed in her throat and blinked back more tears that were threatening to fall.
"I'd better get back, father. I must be ready for when Milliardo arrives. And yet I do not feel like I should ever truly be ready for his return. It's been so long since I have seen him. I wonder what he will look like, now." A smile briefly touched her lips as several memories of their childhood came to mind quickly. Playing tag in the garden when she was eight; the leaves of fall bright and colorful on the ground. A late night advice session a few years later, with hushed voices so that the servants wouldn't hear and send them off to their beds.
Then the smile quickly faded when she remembered the day he left so many years ago after he and their father had argued for the last time. She had cried and clung to him, begging him not to go, but was coldly pushed away without even a goodbye.
In a voice choked and strange, barely above a whisper, she asked the wind, "Will he still have the sweet face of my beloved brother? Or will he possess the hardened features of my enemy?"
* * * * * *
The silver swastika hood ornaments glinted in the afternoon sun; Zechs Merquise closed his eyes and waited. He held his breath, and at the border guard's signal, the two black Mercedes rolled slowly across the checkpoint. Zechs' hand wandered to the panel on the car door, inching towards the control for the window. With a slight movement of his finger the pane of glass slid downward. The long-held air in his lungs escaped at the sensation of the wind kissing his cheeks, and then tossing strands of long blond hair over his face more violently as the car picked up speed. Moving the stray locks away from his eyes, he opened them at long last, and stared out at the rapidly passing landscape.
It might have been anywhere, he reasoned sensibly, for many parts of Germany and France looked like this – dense green forests that in time gave way to grassy hills and meadows that sloped into the golden horizon. To his left, he watched as a young boy led a flock of sheep across a pasture, and to his right, smoke billowed out of the chimney set atop a cheery stone farmhouse with a neatly thatched roof. Yes, this might have been any corner of Europe - before the war, of course. Since then, most everywhere he went had been reduced to ruin, to burnt out shells of buildings smoldering in the wake of an air raid, the once green countryside charred and torn apart. Amidst the bleakness and utter destruction, the Sanq had remained untouched, shining like a pristine jewel in his sister's future crown – until just a few days ago.
Word of the bombing raid had reached Zechs just as he had been returning to Austria on Treize's orders. The noted fighter pilot had commanded his driver not to stop until they reached Krushranada's lavish chalet tucked away at the base of the mountains; Treize should be there already, he reasoned, though a blinding rage coursed through every last inch of his being. "Damn you, Treize," he seethed under his breath, remembering the day five years ago that he had stood before young baron, imploring him to spare the Sanq as the Reich stormed the countries around it.
"Your concern for your homeland is
admirable, but I must ask you - why should you care so much about the fate of
the Sanq Kingdom?" The aristocrat-turned-colonel had
questioned as he studied his fingernails and languidly polished them on his coat. "Your father turned you out and made you an
exile, deprived you of your reign and of your country. He was foolish in not building his own army –
his kingdom practically begs for invasion."
"My father," Zechs
said quietly, "is dead. My young sister
now has rule of the country. The Sanq Kingdom is a small nation and a pacifist land. It will be no trouble to Germany if it is
just left alone."
"The orders from Berlin were clear."
"I will guarantee that Sanq
will pose no threat." The young lieutenant fought the urge to turn
away, feeling the heat of humiliation burning his cheeks, but the thought of Relena, his little sister, made him swallow his pride. "Please, Treize, as
my friend." He drew a deep breath, clenching his hands at his sides, waiting for
an answer.
"Friend?" The superior officer mused. "You save my life once and you think you can
ask for such things?" Treize inquired smoothly,
slanting his eyes at the man across from him.
Zechs bowed his head. "No, sir, I do not. But I ask for this anyway."
"Zechs? Zechs, are you alright?" Lucrezia Noin called out to him, her hand tentatively touched his, but just for an instant before she pulled it away. She silently berated herself for the action.
Noin had come to know the man who called himself Zechs Merquise when she was sent to serve under Colonel Treize Krushranada during the invasion of Austria in 1939. As one of his personal secretaries, she sat in on many a military briefing, making the necessary notes and reports for the commanding officers, Zechs among them. And it was after one of those meetings, on the day that he asked Treize to spare the Sanq, that she had fallen in love with him.
Voices were still coming from the conference room, and Lucrezia figured that some of the officers had just stayed behind to further discuss strategies. As she made her way back down the hallway in search of a file that she had left behind, she recognized the husky baritone that resonated against the walls. "But I ask for this anyway."
She stopped at the door and tried to conceal
herself, finding it difficult to flatten herself against the wall and into the
shadows with the stack of folders teetering in her arms.
Then she saw them.
A gasp lodged in her throat at the sight of
the usually self-confident and poised Zechs Merquise staring at the floor, his shoulders slumped, his
head bowed low. Treize
stood with his arms crossed; staring passed the other man as though in rapt
contemplation.
' I shouldn't be here,' she told herself,
but her feet were frozen and her body refused to move. Instead, she stood rooted in place as Treize began to speak.
"How
old is your sister?" He asked, his arm coming to rest on the younger man's
shoulder. She closed her eyes and
lowered her head, sympathy creeping into her heart for the man she barely knew.
"Fifteen," came the choked reply. She didn't
recognize his voice, and her head snapped up, thinking, for a moment, that
someone else had entered the room.
"Milliardo," Treize began, and at the name, Zechs's eyes quickly darted upwards. "As a member of the Reich, I cannot do this for you. Not taking your former homeland for Germany is not in our best interests, even if you say that your sister, the princess, will never take up arms against us. The Fuhrer wishes to have all of Europe. As officers in his army, it is our duty to fulfill that wish."
Zechs nodded and continued to stand face to face with Treize. Noin began to back away, the name 'Milliardo' still echoing in her mind, but stopped when Treize's voice filled the room once again.
"But as your friend, I will tell Berlin that we will be concentrating on the expansion into France after we have finished taking Austria. It should not be too difficult to overlook the Sanq Kingdom."
Zechs said nothing. Treize exited from the other side of the room, bathing the room in an eerie silence. The blonde officer stood there for a very long time after his superior left, a statue poised in a garden of military maps and conference tables. Noin let her breath out slowly, and resumed her retreat, inching her way back into the darkness of the corridor, fighting to keep the files she had been holding all this time from sliding out of her grasp. Try as she might, one folder launched itself off of the pile, followed quickly by the rest. Through the dull flop sound of the folders hitting the ground and the whisk of fluttering pieces of paper, she looked up and found a pair of ice blue eyes glaring down at her.
In a flash, he stood in front of her, and before she knew what was happening, strong fingers coiled around her slender neck, squeezing ever so slightly as he forced her to look at him.
"How much did you hear?" He growled, tightening his grip as he pushed her against the wall.
Noin's hands groped for something to help her regain her balance, but all she could find was the rough grain of the wood paneling. It scratched against her sweating palms as she tried to steady herself against the man towering over her. To Noin's surprise, she wasn't afraid of him - nervous yes, but not afraid. Rationally, perhaps she should have been. He seemed every bit the predator, eyeing her coldly, his hair flaring wildly around his face, teeth clenched in rage – all of this giving him the appearance of a caged lion.
She never trembled. Instead she held his gaze defiantly, trying to convey through her eyes a sensitivity and understanding. She set her jaw as if she were ready to do battle, and quietly managed to form the words, "Trust me, Zechs. I won't betray you."
She waited. He continued to stare. How much time passed, she didn't think either of them knew. When she once again became aware of her surroundings, she gently slid her hand over his, urging his fingers to release the hold on her throat. His posture relaxed, and he allowed her to remove his hand. She clasped it in her own, easing his arm down to his side.
"Your sister is the princess of the Sanq Kingdom?" she asked quietly, gauging him for a response, noting that the air of tension and hostility between them had long since dissipated.
"Yes," he answered, his response barely audible.
"Then that means you're the..."
"Prince. Not anymore – not for a long time. But my sister… she doesn't deserve the fate that the Reich has in store for her. Sanq would be a strong nation now, if I had never left. But… this is all I can do – from here."
"Zechs, I…"
"The Reich, for so long now, has been my only family. It has been so many things to me. It filled the emptiness in my life after I left the Sanq Kingdom. My men – they are the brothers I never had; my commanding officers – the models I always wanted my father to be. But no one takes the place of my sister. She is an innocent, as Sanq itself is innocent. And I must protect them both. Though I realize this is not something I can accomplish on my own."
His cold blue eyes warmed during his speech and displayed a range of emotions Noin had never dreamed resided in the depths of the man she had only admired from afar - he himself as distant and mysterious as the homeland he spoke about. But now she couldn't help but feel as though she understood him, and she drew nearer, placing a comforting hand on his cheek.
"Zechs, I don't know what to say."
"There is nothing to say, Noin. I've never had to ask for help before. I've never had to ask anyone for anything, but will you…?"
She hadn't bothered to let him finish; her heart had answered for her. "Yes."
The same heart had leapt when he asked her to accompany him on his return to the Sanq Kingdom, and so she sat beside him now, watching with him as towers of Peacecraft Manor came into view. For the first time in nearly nine years, Milliardo Peacecraft was going home.
* * * * * *
Heero frowned and finally, with great effort, lifted himself from the bed. He wanted to talk to Relena before she met with…the enemy. He would not allow himself to think of the man as her brother; his army was invading, and so Zechs Merquise had to be watched, the country prepared. He knew it was going to be a difficult task to convince the Princess to take up arms against the Reich, but since the bombing the night before, and their…discussion, he thought she might be willing.
"I do not know what to think anymore," she said in a quiet voice. Unshed tears wavered in her light blue eyes as she looked up at him from her place just outside the door to her room.
He had walked her to her quarters after the evening's excitement, still wary that she might have been injured from the force of the blast. They stood in the hallway of the east wing, continuing a conversation she had begun as soon as the other members of the household had left.
"Relena, your country has been attacked. You should be thinking of how to defend it."
She had smiled
then, but it wasn't out of any joy she held, but rather a smile of
sadness. "You were right, you know."
"I wish I
hadn't been. I was just trying to…"
"To warn me, I know. And I wanted to apologize to you before this happened. I'm sorry for what I said today."
"There's
nothing to be sorry for." His chest felt
tight, but he wasn't sure if it was because of his wound, or something else.
"Yes, there
is. I offered you sanctuary, a place to
rest and to heal. It wasn't supposed to
be this way."
"It's not your
fault."
"I…I want to thank you. You very well may have saved my life
tonight. On more than one occasion."
He nodded and
then started to leave, but was stopped by her hand on his arm. He turned back and threw her a questioning
glance. The warmth of her touch spread
through him. His breath came in short
gasps.
She stood up on
tiptoe and pressed her lips against his cheek in a chaste kiss very similar to
the one she bestowed on his forehead earlier. Before he had a chance to react, however, she turned away, stopping only
briefly before she opened the door to her room to whisper, "Good night." And
then she was gone.
Still distracted by the memory, he entered the dining room where the rest of his comrades were already assembled, waiting for breakfast to be served, and was immediately accosted by Quatre.
"How do you feel, Heero? Here, let me feel your forehead. Did you get some rest last night? Your head is warm; you still have a fever. You should be lying down, not exerting yourself. I can have Peygan bring you some breakfast…."
"Where is she?" He asked, his eyes searching the room's other occupants while he tried to ignore the medic's tiresome fussing. His gaze settled on the braided soldier sitting at the table; he didn't miss the smirk on Duo's face. "Shut up Maxwell."
Duo's eyes widened, and the knowing smile dropped from his lips. "I didn't say anything," he blinked innocently.
"You were thinking it." Heero crossed his arms and glared.
"What? How do you know what I was thinking?"
"Because you cannot think without engaging your mouth in one way or another."
Duo grinned. "So you knew then that I was thinking about how sweet you are on her highness, and what it would be like to go from being a soldier to being the king of an entire country? Think I could get used to that myself, actually," he said and brought his hands up behind his head in a casual pose. He leaned his chair back and was about to put his feet up on the table, when the door to the dining room opened again. Seeing Peygan, he dropped the chair legs quickly back to the floor.
The old butler frowned disapprovingly at Duo, then turned to Heero. "In answer to your question, Mr. Yuy, she went out this morning by herself to take a walk. Miss Relena often wanders the garden and visits her father's grave. They were very close after her mother, the Queen died. And now that both her parents are gone, her brother is the only family she has left."
Heero nodded. "How long has she been gone? Will it be possible to speak with her before…he arrives?"
"She has been gone quite a while now, longer than usual. But she has much to think about, I imagine, considering the late unpleasantness that has surfaced in the kingdom. I do not know if there will be time for you to speak with her before Mr. Peacecraft arrives."
A frown crossed the face of the injured soldier. "Hn."
Peygan turned to speak to the rest of the assembly. "In answer to your question, Mr. Maxwell, this entire country is very small, and I do not think you should have to worry about what it would be like to rule. If her brother was not in exile, he would be king, and she would have a husband provided for her. Since she has been forced to take on the full responsibility of the kingdom, she would most likely choose a nobleman of high moral character, preferably a descendant from one of the other royal families of Western Europe." His voice held a lofty tone as he spoke to the young men. Heero narrowed his eyes at the butler who, having delivered his not-too-subtle message, turned and quickly exited the room.
As soon as he was gone, Duo made a face at the door Peygan had just disappeared through. "What the hell does that mean, a husband would have been provided for her?"
"It means an arranged marriage," Trowa said in a quiet voice. "But he is just voicing his opinion on who he thinks the princess should marry. I wouldn't place much stock in what he says, Duo." He cast a sidelong glance at Heero as he said it even though he addressed the comment at the more cheerful man sitting next to him.
Duo looked up and started to protest, but Trowa winked at him. Getting the message, he quickly covered the action with a fake yawn-and-stretch move.
"Ahhhhh. Well, I for one, want to get a good look at this Zechs Merquise fella."
"I don't think that's such a good idea. This is a family affair, and our presence would just cause her trouble, I think," Trowa said with a slight frown.
"Yes," Wufei added, "I'm sure this 'Lightning Count' would not want to see five American soldiers in his home country. We should leave or stay out of sight."
"Leave? We can't leave," Duo protested.
"It would be unadvisable," Heero replied in a flat tone of voice, his eyes and expression not betraying any reasons he might have held for wanting to stay. "We have not yet been able to contact our superiors."
"You can't go anywhere, Heero, in the shape you're in." Quatre said with a frown. "You should be resting."
Heero once again glared at the medic, but was soon distracted by the sound of Duo's voice. Again.
"I didn't mean show up and ask for a hug from the guy. But maybe we could sneak in, you know find a way to see him, without him seeing us," Duo said, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
Heero arched an eyebrow. "What did you have in mind?"
"Well, the Sanq guards will most likely be in attendance, right?"
"That could work," Trowa said, nodding in agreement.
"All we have to do is find out where they keep the extra uniforms."
"I bet Peygan knows," Quatre said, trying to be helpful. All eyes turned towards him.
"You're right, I bet he does know. And since you're the only one of us he doesn't seem to hate, I nominate you to ask him, Quatre." Duo pointed across the table at the medic.
"I second that," Heero said, shaking his head as he realized he had just agreed with Duo twice in one day.
Quatre frowned and muttered something under his breath. "Fine," he said and turned to go after Peygan.
As soon as Quatre had left, Heero moved towards the outside door on the opposite end of the room. Duo saw him, and started to ask something, but was stopped by Trowa's hand on his arm. In a low voice, the communications officer said, "You know where he's going, don't agitate him any more than you have to."
Duo snorted. "Ah come on. I'm just having a bit of fun with him. Lighten up."
"He obviously is very serious when it comes to her. You're only inviting trouble."
"Humph. You don't understand; he's serious about everything. Do you know that when we were first stationed together in France, he didn't speak a word to me for three weeks? Three whole weeks! And when he did, you know what he said?"
A slight smile tugged on Trowa's lips. "I can guess."
"Shut up, Maxwell. Three weeks without a word from him and the first thing he says to me is 'shut up'." He scowled with the memory. "It's about time he started to loosen up and appreciate the fairer sex. He was beginning to worry me."
Trowa chuckled. "How so?"
"There was this really good looking secretary that had the hots for him. Like really bad. She thought that we were friends, so she would ask me all kinds of questions about him, but of course I didn't know anything about Mr. Friendship-is-a-bad-word over there. But I could tell she was interested, you know? He wouldn't give her the time of day."
"Well, at least you can chalk it up to being nothing personal," Trowa offered.
"Yeah, I guess, but it seemed a waste to me. Pretty thing drooling all over him, God only knows why, and he wouldn't even say hi to her."
Trowa shrugged and was about to reply when the door burst open, and Quatre came in, his face flushed and blue eyes sparkling. "You guys have got to see this."
* * * * * *
Zechs sat up straight in the plush leather seat, adjusting his collar and smoothing his uniform jacket in effort to distract himself and quell the wave of anxiety that had swept over him since the motorcade had made the final turn towards the Manor gates. They came into view; those familiar stone lions perched atop the gate. His heart warmed when he saw them, like old friends; decidedly more gray and weather-worn than he remembered, but still there, keeping their silent vigil just as he did from afar. To guard his sister and her kingdom, to be her sentinel and keep the ever-encroaching beast of war at bay. So he had wanted to be, and had done for as long as he could; but like the lions, he had become weary, too.
The full extent of the damage had not been visible, since they had approached from the east, but as the Manor laid spread out before him, Zechs caught his breath. The crippled west wing still smoldered in the afternoon light, the scorched stone of the once proud structure crumbling amidst the graveyard of charred trees and blackened grass. The beast had come and gone, and unless Relena agreed to what he had come to offer her, it would surely return.
A dozen blue-clad guards stood at attention, causing the pair of Mercedes to glide to halt while the drivers stated their intent. Zechs pressed his face to the window, examining ornate and twisted wrought iron of the gates more closely, recalling the day that they had closed behind him for what he believed would be forever. Father you have been a fool. And although I may continue to suffer for my sins, I pray that Relena will not have to suffer too greatly for yours. Once again the car began to move.
"Do you think she'll recognize you, Zechs?" Noin called out in a comforting tone, having noticed the uneasiness that tugged at his features.
"The question is whether or not I will recognize her. She was just a child when father – when I left home."
"She's your sister," Noin smile reassuringly. "I'm sure you'd know her anywhere."
* * * * * *
He was instantly greeted by the crisp air of morning hitting his face and jarring the rest of the fatigue from his mind. He closed the door behind him and started to trek across the grounds toward the family cemetery in search of Relena.
"She would
choose a nobleman, preferably a descendant from one of the other royal families…"
Translation: a
woman like her, a princess, would never love a lowly soldier such as you.
He scowled, and then wondered why the idea bothered him so much. She was an ally, a friend, nothing more. She had shown him kindness and he was thankful for her aid. He wanted to try and repay her.
"You wanted to kiss her last night," he told himself with brutal honesty. He let out a breath and tried to push those thoughts from his mind. He needed to talk to her now, get her to agree now, before her brother arrived and possibly weakened her resolve, to align herself with the Allied Forces and take up arms against Germany.
He crossed the narrow road leading towards the palace and could see the cemetery only a few yards away. A cool but gentle breeze wafted through the air, and carried a soothing voice on its crest.
"I miss you, father, but it is well you did not live to witness these times, this war, such choices. My first duty should always be to protect my people. But what about my heart?"
Feeling slightly guilty at the thought of eavesdropping, he stopped, the wind alternating between carrying her voice to his ears and muffling the sound. He caught the words, "I'd better get back, father. I must be ready…"
Then just a few other snippets, like: "It's been so long since I have seen him." "My beloved brother." "My enemy."
He didn't pretend to know what that all meant, so he just waited for her to appear from her place hidden behind the trees that surrounded the small cemetery. As she let herself out of the little gate she looked up and saw him waiting for her. She stopped and stared at him a moment before tucking behind her ear the loose strands of hair that danced on the wind. She smiled, and then began to walk towards him.
He could feel his heartbeat quicken in his chest when she smiled at him. But this was not the time for…these emotions. He took a deep breath to calm himself and made up his mind to be direct and blunt about the whole thing. As soon as she was near, he was just going to tell her 'you need to join with us and fight against Germany.'
"Good morning, Heero" she said in greeting.
He opened his mouth to say the words, but was silenced by her hand on his forehead, feeling cool and soothing next to his fevered skin. He closed his eyes and relaxed against her, feeling her arms go about his neck, and his own grasp her waist, pulling her close.
There was a strange sound behind them on the narrow road, but he was in too deep to care. His lips grazed her neck as he inhaled the scent of her hair and buried his face into her shoulder. He could feel her breath on his cheek, warm and rapid, like the beating of her heart through the clothing she wore.
"Heero," she whispered.
He felt her stiffen suddenly, and she squirmed in his grasp. He pulled away and looked up to see surprise written on now-colorless features as she stared at a point behind him. He released his hold on her waist, silently berating himself for indulging the emotion of his heart, and slowly turned to face the cause of her distress.
His lip curled into an angry snarl as he watched the motorcade of black Mercedes pass by with the silver Swastika hood ornaments and knew immediately who it was.
"Milliardo…."
* * * * * *
The command for the driver to stop the car stuck in his throat. Zechs stared, staring out of the shaded window and gaping dumbly while the car meandered slowly through the still-green portions of the Manor's tree-lined driveway. Noin had indeed been correct; he would recognize his little sister anywhere. The honey-blonde hair so like their mother's, the delicate features and graceful profile… so reminiscent of the little girl he remembered. A small smile tugged at his lips, and he fought the urge to open the door and rush out to take her in his arms and swing her in a circle just as he had done when she was small.
Relena…But she was not alone, he suddenly noticed, in the summer garden just outside the family cemetery. As they neared, he realized that his sister was turned towards a man with unruly brown hair, not merely standing beside him but embracing him… embracing – the ENEMY!
The smile dropped from his face, and he felt his whole body begin to quiver. There was no mistaking the American army fatigues. He was trained to know what each country's soldiers wore, and he knew them all too well. Still Zechs blinked in an attempt to clear his vision, believing, or hoping to believe, that it had been some trick of the eye, some prank of the sunlight that filtered haphazardly through the canopy of leaves and blossoms around them.
Abruptly, she turned around, white-faced and stricken, wrenching herself from the man's arms. As the car passed, he knew that she could not see him, and he watched as those familiar sea-green eyes followed the vehicle. The rage and betrayal that invaded his heart was total and complete. In those eyes he had failed to see the sweet child he had known. All this time he had protected her, having to all but sell his soul to the Reich and to Treize, committing himself to the acts of war and destruction that would forever stain his hands.
"This is how you would repay me, sister?"
They drove on for quite some time, but Zechs didn't notice when the car had finally come to rest at the Manor's main entrance. This was not Milliardo Peacecraft's homecoming. Milliardo Peacecraft no longer existed, he told himself as he exited the Mercedes.
Standing before the entrance, Zechs placed his officer's cap on his head. He was SS Colonel Zechs Merquise, the Lightening Count. He was to be feared. He cared for nothing and no one. Glancing up at the carved marble over the doorway, he fought to convince himself that it was true. He set his jaw and waited while Noin and the other members of the entourage gathered behind him, and squaring his shoulders, stepped over the threshold. Milliardo was dead and Zechs had come in his place - cold and hard as the white stone above the door…
* * * * * *
Duo whistled and heard the sound echo throughout the cavernous stone walkway underneath the castle. "Man, this is unbelievable. I wonder where all these passages lead?" He craned his neck, twisting this way and that as if trying to see around corners and through walls.
"Well, Peygan said that this one goes directly from the basement to a hidden doorway in the wall just outside the princess's office. He said it would be the quickest route to the official throne room, and we could make it virtually undetected – sneaking in from the back of the guard station."
"Clever man, that butler. Told you he liked you, Quatre. I wonder if he can smell money in your blood or something."
"That's insulting, Maxwell. Be quiet and put on your uniform." Wufei said, shoving one arm into a blue jacket.
"I wonder if Heero found Miss Relena." Quatre struggled to unbutton the cuff on his shirt.
"Oh, I'm sure he did," Duo grinned, peeling off his issued uniform to exchange for their disguise. "Wonder if he's gotten that kiss yet. Knowing him, though, I doubt it."
"You should have more faith in him than that. It may take him a while, but his feelings for her are genuine," Trowa observed. He was already fully dressed in the dark blue of the Sanq guard.
Wufei stiffened and stared at each of them in turn. "Genuine or not, her brother is still a Nazi soldier, and therefore our enemy,".
"But the princess is not our enemy." Quatre stopped dressing to frown disapprovingly at Wufei.
"Maybe not now, but what do you think she's going to do when brother dearest gives her an ultimatum – turn over the American prisoners of war, or we'll bomb you to smithereens." Duo, now in the blue uniform as well, crossed his arms and shook his head.
"Is that why he's here?" Quatre asked sounding shocked at Duo's suggestion.
"That's my guess."
"Yeah." Trowa looked from Quatre to Duo and nodded in agreement.
"She'll make the right decision," a voice called out from the mouth of the passageway, resonating hollowly to the chamber where they all stood.
"Oh, you're here," Wufei said without glancing up and continued dressing.
"And which one is the right one?" Trowa asked, raising an eyebrow at Heero, who was limping towards the group.
"To join the Allies." Heero replied, searching for a uniform.
"But Heero, the Lightning Count is her brother. How can you say joining the Allies is the right choice? It's not really a black and white issue," Quatre argued.
"Nothing ever is, but there is still a right and wrong to war."
"How so?" Trowa asked, crossing his arms and leaning back against the stone wall of the passageway.
"There are right reasons to fight, and wrong reasons. The Reich fights as aggressors, taking over lands too weak to defend themselves as a conquest. They fight for superiority and for the sake of fighting. We fight to free those nations that have fallen, and to protect our own country. The Sanq Kingdom would fall more in line with our ideals than the Reich's."
"But you're being too logical. Women do not form alliances based on logic." Wufei scowled at the wounded soldier.
Duo grinned at his friend. "Where logic fails, her feelings for one soldier in particular will certainly bring her over to the right side of things."
"Hn."
"What, no shut-up, Maxwell? You're slipping, Yuy, or are you finally going to admit you care for her?"
"I'm choosing to ignore you. Hand me that uniform."
"What? No, Heero, you need to be resting," Quatre exclaimed.
"We have to get going. He's already here." Heero ignored the protests of the medic and began the tediously slow task of pulling off his uniform shirt, wincing with every movement that involved muscles on the right side of his body.
"You saw him?" Quatre asked.
"His car. I didn't see him, although I'm fairly certain he saw me."
"What do you mean?" Trowa asked, standing up from his more relaxed pose.
"He passed by the cemetery where Relena and I were…talking." Heero said through tightly clenched teeth as he reached his right arm back in pursuit of the jacket sleeve that was presently eluding him.
Duo shook his head and moved to help his friend. "Were you showing her how well you speak French?"
"Dishonorable!"
"You speak French, Heero?" Quatre smiled at his patient.
"That was just Duo's clever way of asking if Heero was kissing her." Trowa replied, stifling a grin.
"Oh."
Heero pushed Duo away, and began buttoning his uniform. "No, I don't speak French. She had her hand on my forehead, to see if I was still feverish. I'm sure it looked friendlier than it was. Let's go." Heero turned and stomped out of the room.
Duo looked over at Trowa with a wide grin. "Told ya."
Trowa reached in his pocket and pulled out another bill and slapped it in Duo's hand as he left the room. Quatre followed suit, also paying for his loss on what had become the standing bet. Duo chuckled and put the money away. "You have entirely too much faith in him."
The young men trudged along the long corridor buried deep beneath the palace floor. It was still a bit of a walk, but nothing like what it would have been to maneuver the hallways existing above ground from one end of the castle to the other.
As they neared the end of the tunnel, there was a flight of stairs leading up to the hidden exit just outside Relena's office. They could hear voices echoing from the room above them, and figured that they must be directly beneath her official quarters.
"Peygan, why do you think he's come back?" They heard the princess's normally firm voice quaver slightly with the question.
"I would assume, your highness, that it would be to discuss the future of the Sanq Kingdom's relations to Germany's new government."
Duo snorted. "Gee, that was difficult to figure out."
"I think there's something more to it than that, Peygan. He would have written a letter if it was just to deliver bad news. He hasn't been home in almost nine years, not even…not even for father's funeral." She said in a low voice. There was a brief pause before they heard her voice again. "There's something else, Peygan, I can feel it."
"Then I say go with your gut instinct, Miss Relena."
* * * * * *
The footsteps echoed in the corridor, at first sounding distant and ghostly, but as they neared, Relena began to feel them – the clicks of the boot heels rang in time with the beat of her heart, pounding loudly in her ears. She watched and waited, focusing on open doors of the Great Hall, never noticing the five extra "guards" that had slipped into the ranks beside the platform she stood upon. Relena couldn't help but feel dwarfed in the vastness of this place, her eyes drifting briefly upward to the wooden beams criss-crossing high above and holding the countless colorful banners that hung down and adorned the vaulted ceiling. The whitewashed walls held swords, shields and portraits of past monarchs who still watched over the affairs of the tiny country. The deep red carpet stretched out, lolling towards the pair of ornately carved doors that stood at the opposite end.
The footfalls outside ceased and two of the Sanq guards moved to open the massive wooden doors. They swung open lazily, unsuspecting of what lie in wait behind them. When her "guests" came into view, it was as if a cold breeze had swept through the room. The princess studied the soldiers from her vantage point as they filed into the Hall. Save for the distinction of the one woman among them, none of them were distinguishable from the next. They all wore the same frigid, tight-lipped emotionless expressions, walking stiffly in time with one another, moving ever forward with mechanical precision. When finally they reached the aisle, the group of German soldiers stopped. Relena's eyes roved over them, halting when one of the men in the front stepped forward.
He walked alone from that point on and came to an abrupt stop in front of the platform at the end of the hall. The princess stepped down, moving just inches away from him, not able to speak as she fought to catch her breath. It was him… but at the same time, it wasn't…
His once sparkling and joyful blue eyes were steely and detached, as if ice had formed in the irises and continued to spread throughout his body. He was taller and seemed so much stronger, but in a fierce and brutal sense – not at all like their father's gentle and protective strength. The officer stood before her, rigid and silent – frozen at attention as if challenging his younger sister to find any trace of the brother she had once known, of the boy he had been. Relena shivered involuntary, and fought to keep her hand from trembling as she reached out for him.
"Milliardo," she whispered in a tone audible to no one but him. The cold, cruel eyes met hers and she studied them intently. She took yet another step closer, and with that, he made a sudden movement, raising his right arm as if he were reaching out for her as well. Relena relaxed, smiling as she prepared to embrace the brother she had missed for so long. But instead of falling into his sister's outstretched arms, the SS Colonel moved aside and glared at the young woman.
"Heil Hitler," he said sharply.
Relena's arms fell back to her sides.
* * *
Due to Rose's evil tendencies and this chapter's exhausting word count – no preview this time – sorry!!!
Stella: But Rose! I feel bad. I always do the preview!
Rose: Stella, not one word!
Stella: B-but…
Rose: That was one word! *starts dragging Stella away*
Stella: *yells from a distance* Hilde's in ch. 5…