AN: We'd like to extend a hearty THANK YOU to Alexe for the totally awesome pic he drew for Veteran's Day based on our humble fic. Please, I cannot say enough how truly gorgeous this work is, and how honored we all feel to be the beneficiary of his amazing talent. You can view the work here: http://www.btinternet.com/~reitaira/gw/flyer.htm . I'm hoping to shrink the size down enough to upload it as my profile pic, too. ^__^
We have decided to continue posting this fic and Missing by a Mile on Fanfiction.net until they are completed. New fics, however, can be found at Blissful Ignorance, unless FFN miraculously manages to find my list of nice people subbed to my author alerts list. I feel like they managed to wipe out a year's worth of work in a brief instant, and I was paying for the service just for the author alerts, really. It's depressing, so I'm going to stop talking about it now. Thank you for your continued readership, and your patience. –the Black Rose
Enemy 5
Revelations
"Peace is not absence of war, it is a virtue, a state of mind, a disposition for benevolence, confidence, justice.."
-Benedict de Spinoza
ACROSS ENEMY LINES
Chapter 5 - Revelations
Vienna, Austria - 1939
Father was brilliant. As a little girl she'd always thought so, especially when she crept downstairs and found him reading in the middle of the night – his small wire-rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose as he sat entranced by some foreign history or old science book. She would watch him in the glow of his reading lamp, the leaning towers of hardbound and well-worn scholarly volumes creating pillars on either side of his desk, causing him to resemble the tall figure of an ancient god in a temple that he had once shown her in a picture.
Father was a tall man with a dark, close-shaved beard and black hair that matched her own. His eyes were gray, always shining with kindness, and when he would see her peeking around the corner of his office doorway he would smile and sit back, waiting for her to run towards him and take her place on a small cushion at his side he reserved just for their late night lessons. Father had shown her the world with his books - pictures of far away places, old and new. He had traveled all over the world - he and mother before mother died - and when he would describe to her the market streets of Paris and the gleaming skyscrapers reaching to the heavens in America's New York City, she knew that she needed to see them someday for herself. Hilde had been born in Germany, but Father had moved them to Austria when she was only a child to take a job as a professor. She spent her summers between the two countries, but always dreaming of those lands that seemed so far away.
Father taught her the languages until she spoke them better than his students at the university, English, French and so many others. They were neither rich nor poor; they were content to cook for themselves and take their daily walks through the park across the street. Life was simple. It was just the two of them, and they were happy.
But as she grew into a young woman, she noticed that Father sat less and less reading his books. He would stand and stare out of their small kitchen window looking out on the city and watch the soldiers hang banners from the state buildings and hurl handfuls of papers from the rooftops. Father saw their presence as an ominous cloud over the city, and she saw it, too.
Bookshops, dancehalls and churches were immediately closed; their school reading texts taken away. The officials of the new government piled them high in the public square and burned them like a sacrificial offering to their new leader. Friends she had known all her life were forced to sit in desks at the back of the room and wear stars on their coats. Some of the older boys came to school dressed in uniforms with the unmistakable sign of the SS worn on armbands. As she walked through the once-cheerful streets on her way home, she noticed that children no longer played together in open courtyards, no shop owners greeted her with a friendly hello as she passed by. She barely recognized this city, it was a foreign land, but one unlike any in Father's books.
Before the Gestapo came, strange men would frequently ring their doorbell in the middle of the night, speaking in hushed voices and delivering small, paper-wrapped parcels. Father barely left the house since they had closed his department of the university and dismissed all the professors that taught foreign subjects or were of Jewish descent. Instead, he sat at his typewriter, keeping the blinds closed all day and waiting for the next night's visitor.
But one night, the typewriter was silent. He sat looking through a slit in the blinds, and when she entered the room, he addressed her absently, never taking his eyes away from the street below.
"Hilde, my darling, you must never say a word to anyone about what you see here, who you see here, do you understand?"
"Yes, Father, but wh-?"
He turned to her, and she took a step back, alarmed at much he seemed to have aged over just the last few months. Streaks of gray now threaded through his coal black hair, and the lines around his eyes were carved much more deeply, draining away the life from his features. "The world has gone crazy," he said to her, taking a package from his desk and moving to stand in front of her. "Hitler cannot be allowed to stay in power, he is killing people everyday. We must do what we can to stop him."
Hilde knew that Hitler controlled those responsible for all the terrible things that were happening. But Father wasn't a soldier; he was a scholar. "Father, I don't understand. What can we do?"
"There is no time, my dear. They are coming for me. I want you to keep these papers safe for me. Can you do that? I want you to leave! Run! Go to the church at the end of the block and stay there - do not let anyone see you, and I beg you, do not come back until the morning."
"But, but Father!" She felt the tears well in her eyes, but he forced the parcel into her hands and threw a coat over her shoulders.
"There is no time…"
The words were barely a whisper, and he looked at her – the flesh around his eyes crinkling heavily as she saw tears gathering that mirrored her own - and held her close to him for what she knew would be the last time.
"I love you, always remember that Father loves you. Now you must go."
Hilde took one last glance as she made her way out the window. Father had turned his back, as if unable to watch her departure. He stood by his desk with a bowed head and hands clasped behind his back, once again amidst his beloved books, saying a silent good-bye to all things he held dear. How very abruptly their life together had changed in the few months that had passed - changed forever.. Hilde felt her fingers slipping off of the windowsill, and she sank down onto the cold metal landing hinged to the side of the building. She shivered in the chill of the night, breathing in the frigid air of loneliness. "Good-bye, Father."
She climbed down the fire escape, dropping silently into the small alley beside their building. Hilde tucked the packet in her coat and tottered towards the street, struggling to make her trembling limbs move. The roaring of a truck engine cut through the evening air, bringing with it an overwhelming sense of dread.
The sound drew nearer and nearer, until the vehicle came into view, screeching to a halt in front of the door to her home. She gasped and bit back tears as she waited for what would come next, somehow finding the presence of mind to flatten herself against the brick wall, masking her presence in the shadow of the fire escape ladder, and hide behind some trash can barrels. A woman's voice barked out commands in the anxious night, "This is the last one – and get the others out of the truck!"
Three men were herded into the middle of the street, shoved and prodded by armed guards with rifles gleaming in the light of the streetlamps. Hilde could see the sheen of blood and sweat marking the prisoners' faces, but still she recognized them: Father's fellow professors, and the men who had come to the house so late on so many nights.
A shuffling sound and the slamming of doors made the prisoners turn, and through the darkness, she could just make out the shadow of a figure being dragged into the street and stood up next to the others. She inched out from the safety of the barrels, trying to see all of what was happening. She immediately regretted it when she saw how his body sagged, barely able to stand under his own power, he appeared to lean against one of the other men for support. His glasses were broken, dangling from one ear, and fought to readjust them as he was forced to kneel with the line of men.
Hilde wanted to scream, but the sound would not come from her paralyzed lungs and she could make no movement. He was now a mere few feet away from her, on his knees in the cold damp street. Father, who had always kept her warm and safe…
"For conspiracy against the Führer, there is only one penalty. Death." A woman not much older than herself paced in front of the ragged men kneeling in the street. Her long hair was tied up into tight buns behind her ears, and she pushed her glasses up onto the bridge of her nose as she raised her head, addressing the onlookers who had opened their windows or come to their doors to see about all the commotion. "Let them be an example to you," she shouted, her words cold and harsh – the tone that Hilde had come to associate with members of the SS. "No one will escape the justice of the Reich!" The woman delivered a swift kick to Father's abdomen, and he doubled over, spitting blood onto the pavement while the young Gestappo agent strode back to the line of soldiers, giving them a quick gesture with her hand.
Hilde watched her father pick himself up, not daring to a look behind. Her mind screamed for him while the guns behind him were loaded and the soldiers stood at the ready. She remained frozen, only able to watch numbly as Father bowed his head, and joined the other condemned men in the Lord's Prayer.
The verses echoed down the alley, the deep baritone of Father's voice reaching her ears while the tears flowed in unchecked streams down her cheeks. Her lips moved automatically once they began.
The soldiers took a step back.
Our Father, which art in heaven
Hallowed be they name,
Four rifles were raised, their shadows stretching long over the men in street below.
Thy kingdom come,
Thy will be done.
On earth as it is in heaven.
A single shot fired, the first man in the line collapsed.
Give us this day our daily bread
And forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors
Another rifle fired and only two remained.
And lead us not to temptation
But deliver us from evilThe third bullet quieted the man beside him. Hilde saw her father's slight flinch, but yet he continued, the words hollow and airy as he repeated them alone.
For thine is the kingdom
And the power and the glory
She remembered the last words he said. "Remember that father loves you…"
For ever and ever
The fourth shot…
* * * * *
July 1944, the early morning hours before Zechs arrives in the Sanq
"Amen." She leaned against a tree, stopping for rest and a quick prayer before making the attempt to cross the border. The moon was now masked by heavy layers of clouds, blacking out the world and plunging the midnight forest into blinding darkness. Her heart stopped with every crunch of the leaves beneath her feet, with every sway of the branches in the wind. The sounds echoed a thousand times more loudly in her ears and she was certain that they had to hear. Accompanied only by a packet of documents and the noise of her breath coming in short, nervous gasps while her eyes darted from side to side, she surveyed every trunk, bush and sapling, studying them in the shadows. Their tall and dense shapes shifted in her exhausted mind's eye, becoming a group of German soldiers till she blinked, reassuring herself that she was alone. The lights of the border checkpoint were visible just ahead, blaring through vegetation as if intent on searching her out. Adjusting the messenger bag that dug into her shoulder, she veered away from the road, slipping farther into the safety of the woods, but pressing onwards – on toward the Sanq Kingdom.
Darlian's advice had been to do her best to look like a man – a woman traveling alone in these violent times wouldn't get very far - so she had shorn off her long, raven-hued hair, smudged her delicate features with dirt, and donned an old pair of trousers and a long overcoat. The hope was that she wouldn't be noticed, or seen at all, let alone questioned. If Nazis found the files and telegrams she was carrying, she would surely be killed on the spot… and all hope would then be lost. But she'd taken risks before, and Hilde knew that this was the only way to finish what her father had started all those years ago.
She moved from tree to tree, treating each as a milestone, gaining ground, inching closer and closer. She noticed that she was nearly level with the lights of the border checkpoint – not far now…
And then there were voices. At first their words were barely audible, a mere din carried on the unusually chilly breeze that cut through the woods. But as she moved on, the sounds grew harsher, sharper, louder – and clearer. Hilde stopped, left breathless and dizzy by the punch of fear landed to her brain when she saw them.
They stood in a small clearing, cigarette smoke drifting lazily from the midst of their minute circle. They seemed to be only shadows, a trio of silhouettes that didn't seem quite real in the misty hours just before dawn. Hilde shook her head, hoping, praying that she was simply imagining them there. Perhaps they weren't real… But the rifles strapped to their backs glinting in the last remnants of moonlight still visible through the thicket of trees… She felt the air leave her lungs. The guns were very real.
Holding her breath she slid behind the nearest tree, moving excruciatingly slow, but as silently as possible. She could see that their attention had not diverted from their cigarettes and conversation about expecting a Colonel Zechs in a few hours, but it was not a time to breathe a sigh of relief. Hilde knew she was just a few feet away from death.
She hugged tightly to the coarse tree trunk, pressing her cheek against its grain and listening to the soldiers exchange stories of Zechs Merquise. How he'd led bombing raids to Britain and tangled in the air over France. How he'd never lost a fight, and never flinched at a suicide mission. He was their hero, already a legend in their minds. Blond hair, blue-eyes, unwavering and every inch a soldier - he was Hitler's ideal made flesh.
Hilde had seen the Lightening Count once at a rally in Berlin, and had thought him to be very handsome, but he troubled her as well. He had the same look about him as the woman who killed her father all those years ago - like he had a stake of ice through his heart.
The messenger bag bit deep into her shoulder, and she made a slow and deliberate effort to shift it, unaware of the smaller tree standing right behind her elbow….
SNAP! The breaking branch cried out before hitting the leaves below, and Hilde felt an icy wave wash over her body as the blood drained from her face. They had to have heard that. Sure enough, the conversation ceased, cigarettes discarded and guns were drawn.
They whispered to one another in low tones, moving into a formation and heading right for her, heavy boots crunching like the steady march of death. They were so close. She could hear the sound of their breathing and the rustling of their uniforms. The clicks of readied rifles sounded, and she closed her eyes, waiting… "Father, I'm sorry."
A single gunshot fired and a small body fell to the forest floor, having been shot down as it started to run. Blood oozed from the hold in its chest, watering the damp earth below. One of the soldiers walked over and pushed against it with the tip of his boot and eyed it with some curiosity. It had jumped out from behind the tree, having come out of nowhere. The soldier had seen movement and fired. The others gathered around.
"Won't this be a story for your grandchildren," one joked, jabbing the other in the ribs. Hilde opened her eyes and caught her breath, still hidden, but only inches away.
"Stupid rabbit," he hissed, kicking at the animal that had unwittingly sacrificed itself for a higher cause, just in front of the tree where Hilde stood.
"Well, Heinrich, at least you won't have to say that you left the war without killing anything."
Heinrich picked up his casualty and began to walk with the others back to the checkpoint, their laughter ringing from farther and farther away until she was sure that they were gone.
Hilde cautiously picked herself up, moving slowly and soundlessly to her feet. She squinted passed the trees, making sure that the soldiers hadn't lingered, and moved to the next trunk. She kept going, never looking back, keeping her eyes focused only on what lie ahead.
Sensing the lights of the border way behind her now, Hilde lowered herself to the ground, limbs weak with fatigue. A smile traced her features in the dark, a hand brushing away the perspiration on her forehead and running through disorderly and matted hair. Her fingers grasped instinctively at the nape of her neck, finding nothing to push away as she sank to the soft forest floor. Fighting against the urge to let her eyes close, she snapped her head up, letting the cool air fill her lungs. "Wake up, Scheibeker," she silently commanded herself, lightly slapping each cheek as she rose shakily to her feet.
She glanced behind her and noticed the faint light of the pre-dawn sky stretching out from the east. But for now, at least the moon had emerged from it's smoky curtain, once again illuminating the earth – shining through patchwork of leaves above and leading the lone girl back towards the road, and on to Peacecraft Manor.
* * *
-Later That Day-
Heero was never one to believe in something as ridiculous as love at first sight. However, if there was such a thing as hate at first glance, it occurred the moment he saw Milliardo Peacecraft salute Hitler in his sister's presence – her arms stretched outward in a gesture of affection towards her exiled older sibling.
He saw the look on her face, the way her limbs fell to her sides with a helpless air, and one filled with disappointment and grief. Whatever hope she had held of seeing her brother – the one whom she had spoken of so fondly only the night before – crumbled in that moment. He could see that so clearly written on her face; how could that heartless bastard not realize it? He continued to seethe inwardly as the man began to speak in a curt, clipped tone.
"I see the intelligence reports I received were correct. A few of our bombers strayed off course and were effectively lost in the cloud cover of the area."
Bull shit. Don't fall for it, Relena.
The princess didn't meet her brother's gaze, choosing instead to stare at a point beyond him as she kept her shoulders stiff and straight with pride. Heero could see the tense lines around her eyes and mouth and the way her hands wrung themselves behind her back. She was definitely not buying the explanation.
"Lost. Yes. I see." She turned away from the enemy and took a few steps toward the door, then paused as if remembering something. She turned her head to level a glare in her brother's general direction. "You're dismissed, Colonel, unless there was something else your führer wished to relay to the people of this nation and its sovereign."
Heero smirked. Her words were, as always, soft spoken and sincere, but to those that knew her and the situation, there was a subtle undercurrent of hostility unnatural to her usual good humor. She's no longer blinded by a love for her brother.
The message was not lost on its intended recipient, either. Ice blue eyes flashed in anger at his sister's retreating figure, his pale features turning a dark and contemptuous red. A low hiss sounded from between razor thin lips, barely audible over the steady pound of footsteps.
"Yes, your highness." Zechs Merquise spun on his heel and with a smart snap of his cape, stalked out of the room - his many officers behind him.
* * * * * *
Heero emerged from the tense meeting, his eyes traveling the hall for a sign of which direction the princess had taken. A heavy hand dropped onto his shoulder from behind, an instant before a familiar voice buzzed in his ear.
"Some show, eh buddy?"
Heero didn't respond to Duo's statement. He was concerned about Relena; he knew how devastated she must have been by the meeting with her brother and it brought two things to mind. The first and most irrational thought was that she'd maybe let him hold her again like she had that morning – the faint smell of her hair in the summer breeze tickling his nose as her warm breath fell on his cheek….
When he successfully pushed that thought aside, the other, more logical idea came to light – that this was a good time to approach her about fighting with the Allies. She had seen what her brother really was, and knew he and the Reich were lying to her, with a little persuasion….
"Helloooo, anyone home?" Duo waved his hand in front of Heero's face. The wounded soldier glared up at his friend.
"What?"
Duo took a step back. "Sheesh. Sounds like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. I was just asking what you thought of the little homecoming in there. No need to get fussy."
"Hn." Heero's eyes strayed down to the other end of the hallway where Zechs appeared to be carrying on a conversation with a subordinate female officer. She smiled faintly up at her superior before he turned towards Relena's official quarters. Instantly, the desire to intrude flared up, consuming the oxygen in his lungs and leaving him short of breath. Duo followed Heero's gaze and then threw a mischievous smile up at his comrade.
"I know where we can listen in." Cobalt blue eyes danced as he suddenly had his friend's undivided attention.
* * * * * *
Knuckles rapped firmly against the solid oak of Relena's office door, a split second before the panel was thrust aside and that once familiar, now deceiving figure entered the room. His pale blond hair fell in a shower of white gold; aquamarine eyes as hard as stone burned through the stillness, branding her skin with his rage. But she was angry, too.
"Milliardo."
Her posture was rigid, and his name sounded foreign to him, especially in the tone she used. It was formal, affectionless. Even through his rage he had hoped for something more.
"Relena, there is one more thing that I must…request on behalf of the führer."
She stiffened, but replied diplomatically. "In the interest of keeping peaceful relations between our nation and that of Germany, I will hear your request. But I want the truth of what happened last night."
He shut the door slowly as if seeking to delay the explanation, and kept his back to her when he answered. "There was nothing I could do." His head was bowed slightly as he continued to stare at the door.
"Nothing you could do? You promised, and I believed you. I have done everything I could to keep the Sanq kingdom out of this war, and…."
He whirled around, prowling towards her like a caged tiger. "Everything you could do. Is that what you call taking in refugees and prisoners of war – everything you could do? Is that how you show your thanks to me for protecting you and this..this kingdom?"
"And what should I have done? Let the Reich murder them like so many sheep sent to their slaughter?"
"They are the enemy."
"Who?"
"Those…" He ground his teeth as the image of his sister in the arms of an American soldier taunted his mind. "Prisoners of war – the ones you took from our soldiers when they crossed the border into this territory."
Her glare met his eyes this time. "This nation. We are not now, nor will we ever be a German territory. I would rather die than see it fall victim to the devastation Hitler has wrought on the lands around us."
"Dying is the cowards way out."
"And so is running away."
He flinched. She seemed to know exactly where he was most vulnerable. Well, two could play at that game.
"Relena….I won't be able to protect this nation or you so long as you continue to openly disobey the Reich's authority."
Her whole body went cold at that statement, dread pricking her skin like the tips of a thousand needles. "And that means what?"
"You will hand over the prisoners of war to me, and I will take them…"
Her heart froze in mid-contraction, squeezing sharply in her chest – she had heard the stories, no one went to those places and lived. They died, and they died horribly and needlessly. "To a death camp. No, absolutely not. I will do no such thing."
She watched her brother's face harden with rage. "You would sign the death warrant of your people for that…that man I saw you with this morning!"
Her hands slammed down on the desk, supporting her weight as she unconsciously leaned forward. "That man saved my life last night when your forces, your bombers attacked this nation and its people."
"He is still the enemy."
"Heero may be your enemy but he is not mine." She stood up, turning away as she folded her arms against her chest, her heart pounding, echoing in her ears.
"Heero." The name slid like venom from the space between her brother's tight lips. "And what promises has this Heero made to you that you turn against your own brother, your own family?"
"Promises? I don't understand." She turned a blank face back towards her brother, and saw the murderous rage darkening his eyes. Fear grabbed her as he began to speak, sinking its cold teeth into the flesh of her neck.
"I'm sure they must be sweet, filled with the assurances of love." Malice dripped like heavy syrup from every word. "And you, a naïve girl who knows nothing of the lies men tell…."
"He has made no promises to me, nor any declarations of affection. You're wrong…."
"Am I? Then why is it I saw you with your arms around him just outside our family graveyard? You invite any stranger…."
"He is not a stranger. And he had just arrived when you drove by. He was concerned, the others sent him to check on me."
"Concerned. That didn't look like concern, it looked like an American flyboy putting the moves on my sister."
"He's been ill, I was merely checking to see if his fever had diminished."
"You're lying. That's not what I saw."
Relena had been retreating and on the defensive while her brother hurled accusations at her like gunfire. But she had no reason to run. She lifted her head and met his gaze, squaring her shoulders with defiance. "Then your eyes are exceedingly better than the rest of your fighter pilots' who apparently cannot see their targets."
"Do not change the subject. He's playing you for a fool. You don't know their reputation. Those American flyboys are notorious for seducing women everywhere they go, leaving behind broken promises and illegitimate children."
"Stop it! He's not like that."
"You don't know him."
"I know all I need to."
"And how much is that? Does he have a wife and family waiting for him at home? Or perhaps he doesn't tell you about them."
"Even if he did have a wife and family, it wouldn't change my feelings. I would still be determined to protect him, to protect them, and see them return safely to the people that wait and pray for their safekeeping."
"Your feelings. Your feelings are foolish if you would put your kingdom and yourself in jeopardy for some…some…coward that hides behind your skirt. That is why they are concerned for you, that is why he protected you."
"That is quite enough." She didn't believe that, wouldn't believe that – he didn't know them. "You're nothing but a meal ticket and a political shield…."
The knife stuck this time, making its mark in her skin as her brother's poisonous words stung her flesh. She lashed out, biting back the tears that betrayed her when she needed anger. "It doesn't matter what I am to them. I will not hand them over, and that is my final decision."
"You are making a mistake, dear sister."
She drank in air and tried to calm her racing pulse. "In your opinion, perhaps, but not in mine."
"Your judgment is faulty."
"My judgment is not based on arrogance and deceit."
"Your judgment is not that of a rational adult who has the best interest of her people in mind, but rather the adolescent crush…."
She winced; this time the knife struck her heart. "It is not some crush!"
"Now you deny that you have feelings for this Heero?"
"I do not deny it. Not to you or anyone. It is not a crush, Milliardo." She took a deep breath before uttering the words she had, till now, been afraid to say. "I love him…."
"More than your own brother."
She stiffened at his words, but somehow she had always known he would make her choose. "More than the man who bears the name but not the resemblance of my brother. I love him, and I promised I would do everything I could to protect him. ." She closed her eyes as her heart spilled onto the floor.
"I no longer bear the name Peacecraft," he spat.
"Well, brother… I do…"
"Keep it then. You are indeed your father's daughter."
She looked up at him as he turned to leave. Her heart ached for him to understand. "I will not break my promise, no matter what Heero's feelings are for me."
"Then you truly are a fool."
* * * * * *
Duo let out a low whistle. The sound echoed strangely in the stone passageways below. "Man, I have to say, ya gotta respect a woman like that."
"Hn. I suppose. But perhaps she wouldn't be so quick to defend us if she wasn't in love." Wufei scowled across the room at where Heero stood, arms crossed, head down - revealing nothing.
"No way, man, did you hear the barb about the eyesight? That was rough. Not that he didn't deserve it, of course, but…hey, Heero. Why didn't you tell us you two were smooching out by the graveyard this morning, you sly dog."
"Duo, let it alone. No one said they were kissing." Trowa intervened in a quiet voice, his eyes trained on the closed figure to his right – waiting to see what Heero would give away of his emotions.
Quatre lifted his eyes and set them on the man against the wall. "What are you going to do, Heero? I mean she…she said…"
Movement – the injured soldier recoiled, uncrossed his arms, and sent a glare towards the annoying medic. "I heard what she said, Quatre. We all heard it. It doesn't mean anything."
"What are you, nuts? The classiest, most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on, and I know you couldn't have possibly found one better, just said she's in love with you and probably saved all our lives, and you say it means nothing?" Duo blurted out without thinking. A feeling of remorse for the outburst instantly burned in his cheeks, and he started to apologize until he saw Heero stand up from the wall and turn away. Guilt died, and anger quickly burned in its wake. "You're a stupid fool!"
Heero moved towards the doorway, lost in his own boiling rage. His pulse thrummed down his arms into his tightly clenched fists, his eyes narrowed as he stalked up the steps towards the exit. Zechs Marquise may be her brother, but that didn't give him the right to speak to her that way, or accuse her of inappropriate behavior. The accusations against him were hardly true, but they were but the handle on the cold knife of fury that pierced his soul.
I won't be able to protect this nation or you so long as you continue to openly disobey the Reich's authority…
"Heero, where are you going?" Quatre called out from somewhere behind him.
He froze in mid-step, his heart racing and throbbing like a swollen, open wound. He took a deep breath and turned to face his comrades. "If he can't protect this country, I can." He exited the room.
"Wha-?" Duo scowled and started after his friend, but an arm shot out and grabbed his shoulder, preventing his pursuit.
"Let him go, Duo," the communications officer said.
"But what kind of an idiot…"
Trowa's lips curved into a small smile. "I think that's as close as he'll get to saying he loves her, too."
Duo stared at him a moment, then lifted a hand to run through his bangs. "Oooh. Heh." He shook his head. "Well, I don't suppose anyone would ever accuse him of being a hopeless romantic."
"Well, it is kinda sweet…in a way." Quatre smiled.
"Now if he'd said that if Zechs couldn't protect her, then he could, then that would have been…."
"Completely unlike Heero," Trowa finished the sentence.
"Ah well, I suppose you're right, but at least we have you to translate for us, Trowa."
"No problem." He cocked his head slightly to the right, his left eye catching the light, lending it a wicked gleam. "Perhaps I'll even win back some of my money."
"Ha! Not a chance, Barton. Not a chance."
* * * * * *
Relena's cheeks burned with her brother's pronouncement. Perhaps she was foolish to love a man she barely knew, but it was a chance her heart was all too willing to take. "I would rather be a fool than what you have become, Milliardo. I would be a fool a thousand times to feel love and pain and joy and loss. I would gladly risk my life, my heart, than walk the earth a ghost of a man, too afraid, too cowardly to live."
She saw the hurt flash in his eyes and then it was gone. Again he turned away from her but stopped at the door, his head bowed low as if broken by her words. "And that is what you think of me?"
She swallowed against the changing tide of emotion. He looked so…lost. "I don't want…I didn't…." She remembered the day he left – her only friend, her advisor, her hero – and felt sorrow for all the years of separation they had known. She had looked up to him and cherished him like she never had her father. "But you have been so cold, so hateful, so unlike the sweet brother I remember."
"I have died a thousand deaths to protect you and this land, and when I saw you in the arms of my enemy…."
"You have been angry with me then, all this time."
"You have betrayed me."
"I have not. He is not fighting, not injuring your armies. He and his friends are refugees in this land, and have not been in contact with their former units. Heero especially has been too ill to leave; another lost his brother at the hands of their captors. We buried him in the official cemetery…." She looked down at her hands, and lowered her voice. "What you saw, as I tried to explain before, was something completely harmless. I am sorry that it upset you so, brother. It was not my intention. I had hoped that things would go differently today; I haven't seen you in so long."
His heart unfroze at the sound of pleading in her voice. She was still in there, his little sister whom he adored and endured countless humiliations to protect. And she still loved him, still sought his approval and affection. "I….Your apology is accepted. Please accept mine for my behavior as well."
"Oh Milliardo…." She moved around the desk and approached him as if to embrace him, but he backed away. He could almost feel her confusion and hurt at his actions, but he had failed her, and she should know that truth before offering forgiveness.
"I will do what I can, Relena. But I fear it will not be enough."
"I understand. And I thank you for what you have done for all this time."
Forgiveness, she forgave him for his weakness, though he could not forgive himself. He turned to face her, to take her into his arms at last, but she had something else to say.
"Please, if you can do nothing else, convince them to leave the refugees here alone. They aren't causing any harm."
She would plead for the life of the enemy. Yes, only his sister would be capable of loving both sides – neither could ever be her adversary. "I will try, on one condition."
"Ye-yes?"
His eyes narrowed. "I want you to stay away from this Heero…."
"Milliardo, he's staying in the castle, he needs medical care. I can't…."
He set his jaw. "You don't want to."
"No, I don't want to. Perhaps…perhaps if you met him…."
His head came up and he eyed her wearily. "Hn."
"You'd realize that he's not what you think. He's kind and, I…"
Kind? Yes, he must be to capture your heart, dear sister – or is it just that you've been alone so long…. Is it my fault for leaving you with too large a burden that you seek out the first man who shows you kindness? He sighed. A good soldier always knows his enemy.
"For you, sister, I will meet him. I suppose I should thank him as well."
"Thank him?"
He nodded once, his eyes straying to the floor. "When I failed, he protected you. I should thank him."
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his chest, drawing him into a long overdue embrace. "Thank you, Milliardo." She breathed into the fabric of his uniform. "And welcome home. I have missed you."
He returned the hug and held her close, remembering with pain the last time he had done so. It had been far too long.
Welcome home…* * * * * *
Heero paced back and forth in the hallway. It had sounded like the enemy was leaving, and so he had come to meet him – with his fist. The heels of his shoes tapped firmly against the dark mahogany wood that sculpted the floor into rich, shiny lengths, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.
Your feelings are foolish if you would put your kingdom and yourself in jeopardy for some…some…coward that hides behind your skirt.
He couldn't fight out there, right now, but he could definitely relieve the Reich of one of its officers. His jaw clenched against the dull ache in his side. He spun on his heel, changing the direction of his incessant pacing once more.
The sound of the door opening halted him in his tracks. He whirled around, muscles taut, his body poised for attack. But the tension and blinding rage evaporated when he saw her face.
"Heero!"
He took a step toward her, one hand rising from his side to touch her, to make certain she was real….
The door swung wide, revealing an up close look at the pale, marble-like features of the enemy. Heero's whole body railed into a stiff posture of military attention; his face and eyes hardened into stone.
"Heero, th-this is my brother, Milliardo Peacecraft. Milliardo, I'd like you to meet U.S. Army Captain Heero Yuy."
Milliardo watched the scowl overtake the young man's features, the mutual hatred hanging in the air as neither man moved to greet the other. The thought was absurd, they were enemies; what was his sister thinking? But she had professed to loving this..man, and he had safeguarded her. Zechs could respect him for that, and the way he glared at his known enemy with a protective eye for Relena.
Hn. He likes me about as much as I like him. But why does he want to protect her? Have you asked him, dear sister?
"I, it's about time for lunch. I took the liberty of having Peygan…."
"Yes, Miss Relena?"
"Oh. Peygan, could you please set four places at the table in the formal dining room for lunch?"
"Yes, Miss Relena." Peygan bowed and took his leave.
"Four?" Milliardo broke the razor sharp silence between the two men. "Who is joining us, dear sister?"
"I thought that perhaps your personal assistant would like to eat with us, and I was about to invite Captain Yuy to stay for lunch. Heero?"
"I need to speak with you."
"Yes?" She smiled warmly, though her eyes darted somewhat nervously between her brother and Heero, who spoke to her through clenched teeth.
"Alone."
"Oh. Milliardo, I will join you and Miss…Miss…?"
"Noin."
"Miss Noin in the dining room in just a moment." She stepped aside to let Heero pass into her office. "Heero."
He nodded at her then brushed passed the elder Peacecraft into Relena's official quarters. Venomous ice blue eyes followed their every move until she had safely tucked the door in its frame and left it behind her. The heavy wood dampened all sound from the room. Zechs would gain no insight into just what they were discussing, but it wasn't hard to guess what would be at the heart of their conversation.
With a last withering glance thrown as if it could burn through the door, he turned and strode down the hall to where Noin was waiting.
I'll be damned if I let you turn my sister, and my homeland against me.
* * * * * *
"What is it, Heero?"
Her eyes were still that soft blue, nothing had changed in them since her admission. She was not, in the least, ashamed of the way she felt for someone who was really unworthy of such a noble, unselfish emotion.
Even if he did have a wife and family, it wouldn't change my feelings…He shook his head and remembered the strange, icy, yet burning sensation that gripped him when he saw Relena in Duo's arms, dancing. He scowled at the memory.
"Heero?"
His attention snapped back into the moment. She was looking at him, eyes searching his face, his soul, for something…he wasn't sure what.
"Relena, your country is unprotected, defenseless. You need to join…."
"The Allies. Heero, you know I can't do that."
"You have to. Your brother can't protect you, and Germany will easily obliterate Sanq if you don't raise an army and join with those who can defend your kingdom."
He stopped. She was staring at him, with guileless blue eyes set in an unreadable expression. He frowned. "Relena?" Pink tinged her cheeks as he took a faltering step towards her. She dropped her eyes to the ground.
"You heard my brother tell me he couldn't protect me."
His heart dropped into his stomach. He had given himself away, and admitted to overhearing not only her brother's words, but hers as well.
I love him…He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. "Yes."
"Heero?" Her voice, usually so firm, so soft, escalated, trembling in its execution. His eyes flew open as she chose that moment to look up and meet his gaze. If he thought that he had some control over this, these feelings she stirred within him, that he could remain indifferent somehow until she came to her senses and realized how meaningless and insignificant he was, then he had made a grievous miscalculation in judgment. He felt himself being drawn to her like a magnetic force, or something stronger. A gentle whisper brushed his ear, trickling into, but not registering in his mind. "I..I can't fight against my brother."
She stood still in front of her desk as he quickly closed the distance between them – taking the last step to place their lips just inches from one another. She glanced down at her hands, as if studying them for imperfections. He frowned; he wanted her to look at him.
"Relena…" His hand came up to cup her chin, tilting it up to where she had to meet his gaze once more.
"You heard…. Heero, I don't want you to feel obligated, it's okay if you don't feel the same for me."
He just stared for a moment, his eyes searching…. He felt his hand tremble under her chin, his heart tumble to her feet, his voice falter as he spoke words not previously approved by logic. "Relena…I don't…." He leaned closer, his lips hovering above hers as he flailed and grasped for words in a ferocious current of emotion threatening to drown him. "I don't have…anything…you could possibly want." His expression changed to a pleading look, wanting her to understand that she deserved better; she shouldn't love him.
The corners of her mouth lifted slightly, and she brought a hand up to his cheek, brushing back wayward strands that never stayed where they should. "You're wrong." Her voice was gentle, a soft caress so like that of her hand.
I do not deny it, not to you or anyone. I love him.
He swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and prepared to battle the sweeping tide. He bent his head forward, his lips whispering against her jaw line and tracing hazy patterns towards her mouth….
A loud knock sounded at the door the same time Peygan swung it open in a swift movement that seemed unlikely for a man his age. Heero dropped his hand from her chin and took a step back, shoving both fists deeply into the pockets of his uniform pants. The butler threw him a narrowed-eyed glance that if Heero wasn't mistaken, screamed his disapproval.
Peygan cleared his throat. "Miss Relena, my apologies for interrupting, but the afternoon meal has been prepared and is ready to be served. Your guests are waiting."
"Thank you, Peygan. You're dismissed."
"Yes, Miss Relena." He closed the door slowly behind him.
"Will you join me for lunch?"
"I'm not hungry."
"Heero, please…I understand your dislike of my brother, but I keep hoping…. Heero, just this once, I guarantee I'll never ask you again to sit down to a meal with an SS Colonel. Have lunch with me, and then we can finish our…conversation – about your concerns over this country's defense."
"You'll consider it?"
"I've been considering it, since you first mentioned it to me. Anything that important to you….So, you'll have lunch?"
Heero nodded once, a method of acknowledgement or consent depending on the context. She smiled up at him, and then reached out to grab his left elbow. He raised an eyebrow at how she folded her arm through his, though it wasn't from dislike – just…surprise.
He led her from the room, a princess escorted by a nameless soldier. It seemed far too good to be true, and Heero knew that around the corner from every moment of happiness lurked something sinister, dangerous, or despairing. This one's name was Zechs Merquise.
* * * * * *
They entered the formal dining room where Zechs and Miss Noin stood waiting. Heero didn't miss the black look the enemy shot in his direction – no doubt from the way she held onto his arm. He led her to her seat, pulling out the chair at the head of the table for the princess. She smiled up at him with more than appreciation lighting her cerulean eyes. He nodded and took his seat to her left.
The meal passed in a thickly draped silence that hung like velvet curtains shutting out the daylight. Relena politely attempted conversation with the other female in the group – her best chance at avoiding conflict, Heero noted.
"So, Miss Noin, what is it you do? Are you an officer?"
"I am not…permitted to have such standing. I'm an officer's assistant. I do things like typing and filing, and taking dictation."
The corners of her brother's mouth curled up in a wry smile, as if he were amused by the absurdity of his sister's question. "No army would let women serve, Relena. It's not their place. There are certain roles…."
"I'm sure women shouldn't be ruling countries, either, and yet we are called upon to do such things."
"That's not what I meant."
"You don't want to rule your country?" Heero spoke up, his dark blue eyes focused on her face as if there was no one else in the room.
"I didn't mean it that way, Heero. I was trying to say that to define women's roles in such a limited way is unfair. We are capable of more than we are often credited." Her left hand slipped under the table and he felt it brush his forearm. Soft fingers found his palm, and then slid up to intertwine with his own. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, and pressed her hand with his thumb. She smiled.
Zechs watched the brief but intimate display with a nauseas stomach. Rage bubbled beneath the meal they had just consumed and turned over, causing his blood to boil in his veins. She openly displayed affection for the enemy and obviously didn't care what anyone – least of all her own brother – thought about it. And when had she gotten these ridiculous ideas about what women were capable of? She was supposed to marry someone who could rule, not run the country on her own.
He took a sip of his water, trying to douse the fire of resentment burning in his heart for this…this… parasite that was feeding her such ridiculous ideas. His eyes raked over and studied the enemy, trying to judge Heero's behavior towards his sister and discern the supposedly ill army captain's true objective.
The enemy was steel set in stone or plain concrete – tough but not distinctive or refined like granite or marble. He was common, and only a captain, so he hadn't entered as an officer, which meant he couldn't be particularly intelligent. But he was a captain, so he had risen through the ranks fairly quickly, judging by his youth.
His dark blue eyes reflected none of the love Relena proclaimed for him, so he was humoring her for a reason. Was it something basic like his libido, or something more sinister like convincing her to turn against Germany and her brother? Worse yet, perhaps he thought he could be the new ruler…Hn, not likely, if he's been telling her she can run it on her own.
Feminine voices floated around his sense of consciousness as he glared daggers at the enemy across the table, trying to read his mind. His musings were interrupted when Peygan entered the room in a quick if hectic movement and called loudly to his employer.
"Miss Relena, there's a telephone call for you in your office. The man claims it is of the utmost urgency, and will not disclose his name to anyone other than yourself."
The princess's eyes widened at the message, and she shot up from her chair. The others stood out of respect, Heero still struggling a bit with his injury. She turned to smile apologetically at her brother and Noin. "I'm sorry. I should think this would take but a brief moment, but please continue the meal without me."
She turned and started toward the door where Peygan waited, but she found forward progress halted when a hand clamped down sharply on her arm, tugging her back into the room.
"I should go with you." Heero spoke in a quiet voice laced with concern as several possible scenarios flooded his mind. Is it a lover? Official business? Either one should be my business, or…damn…. Her hand came up to cover the one still grasping her arm.
"Heero, I'll only be a moment." He nodded and let go, then watched as she quickly exited the room. Peygan shot him another withering look before following the princess out into the hallway. He had barely turned back around before Zechs's hostile baritone snarled across the table and opened fire.
"In most nations on earth, the sovereign of a country is treated with dignity and respect. She deserves no less from you."
Heero didn't even acknowledge that the enemy had spoken. He kept his eyes focused on the wall to his left, completely ignoring the other presences in the room. The warning shot had been fired. Now the onslaught began.
"I don't appreciate the way you manhandle my sister."
Fists were shoved into pockets, but his eyes never lifted from their target. Zechs maneuvered his cannon and took aim once again.
"You may have her fooled, but I know what you're up to, and I'll be damned if I let you turn my homeland and my sister against me!"
Dark blue eyes slashed through the static air to clash with the enemy's battery. The two stood glowering at one another for a brief instant before Heero returned fire. "It's not your homeland."
Rage contorted Zechs's face, and the blond man turned away as if to gain control of his emotions. Heero let out the breath he had been holding, trying to keep calm in the face of a confrontation that was so blatantly stacked against him. With logic now firmly seated once again, he knew he couldn't fight with his injury still sore and causing intermittent fevers – the stitches were still weeks away from being removed. He hated feeling so vulnerable.
The air whipped around him and a lightning bolt slammed into his jaw, knocking him to the floor without even the time to cry out. He struggled to regain his feet, his side throbbing in protest at the activity. The enemy jerked him up by his neck, just before he was thrown like a rag doll and rammed backwards into the dining room table.
The china shrieked in protest. It splintered into thousands of jagged pieces that bit into his shoulder even through the fabric of his shirt. Zechs's hands crushed his throat, and his lungs burned from lack of oxygen. He was dimly aware of a female voice pleading for someone to stop….
* * * * * *
The door to the formal dining room was closed, which was odd. Duo hadn't seen anyone eat in there since they had arrived in Sanq. He wondered briefly where Heero had gotten off to, and whether his romantically challenged friend had finally scored his kiss.
"He's way too uptight about things." Duo shook his head and kept walking down the hallway, when the sound of a familiar, hated voice crawled through the crack beneath the door.
"I'll be damned if I let you turn my homeland and my sister against me!"
Duo froze, his eyes widening as he spun around to go back to the room. As he turned the knob, an earsplitting crash sounded from within the room - shaking people from their burrows like so many ants in an ant farm.
He threw open the door, but didn't have time to calmly assess the situation. His friend was in trouble. Duo's eyes narrowed with hatred as he charged across the room.
"Zechs, please, your sister wouldn't want you to…." Noin's voice was lost in the thick of the battle as the SS Colonel continued to chortle his enemy. Heero's hands sought to loosen the ones around his neck, but he was making no progress. His left one moved away, straining to find something on the table to use to his advantage.
Groping and bunching up the tablecloth, Heero kept trying to breathe, though the room was starting to spin from a burning lack of oxygen. His fingers finally came up with something solid – a serving tray. He grabbed it up and with the last bit of strength he had left, swung it in a vicious movement, smashing it into the right side of Zechs's head. The older man staggered back from the blow, releasing the injured soldier. Heero gasped for air and tried to stand up, the room moving underneath him, however, wasn't making it easy….
Duo pounced on the stunned man, grabbing him underneath the shoulders and trying to restrain him. Zechs shook his head, stumbled forward, and tried to shake the American off. Heero's face was purple and he looked like he was in danger of passing out. Duo knew he couldn't let go of the enemy….
"I'm going to kill him. And I'll kill you, too!" Zechs shouted as he wrestled with the man trying to restrain him. Maxwell held fast, but could tell the SS officer was stronger – he knew that he couldn't hold him much longer.
With a battle cry of, "What the hell?" Wufei entered the room and quickly joined his comrade in trying to subdue Zechs. Heero leaned heavily on the table, still gasping for air. Duo had never been so happy to see the terminally angry Chinese man in his life. The two allies managed to get the enemy under control, each grabbing an arm and forcing it behind his back – twisting just enough to make it painful if he tried to fight them. The Colonel's muscles went slack in their grips.
The distinct, rapid clicking of heels on the hard wood floors announced the princess's arrival, and the two American soldiers turned their heads instinctively toward the dining room entrance, expecting her to appear any second. Heero pushed himself away from the table with some effort, having recovered a bit, and trying not to look weak….
The Lightning Count lurched forward, flipping Duo to the ground with a loud thud, then whipped around to smash his fist into Wufei's unsuspecting face. He seized the collar of Heero's jacket and thrust him towards the door, turning as he did so to deliver a brutal blow. He connected with the fighter pilot's wounded side; sparks flashed before his eyes as all the air left his lungs, and pain seared his entire body. A choking sound bubbled up from the wound, escaping through his lips as he tried to remain standing despite the blinding ache.
He blinked, reopening his eyes to see that Wufei and Duo once again were grappling with Zechs. He drank in some air, and stumbled forward, trying to summon strength enough to strike back. Instead a hand came to rest on his arm, holding up his fist as he felt another go around his waist. He leaned into the welcome support.
"I can't let you hurt my brother, Heero," Relena said in a quiet voice, looking at him with deep creases of concern etched on her face. He felt her stiffen beneath the additional weight she was trying to support, and briefly, he wondered if she really thought him capable of fighting in his current state. As she slowly lowered his arm to his side, and he saw her make a motion towards someone behind him at the door, he realized that she had always referred to him as being ill in the presence of her brother – not injured. If he had the energy, he would have smiled at her, instead, he watched as her brother was led from the room by the Sanq guards she had summoned.
"Quatre," the princess called to the man just inside the doorway. "Please, get Heero to bed, and check his injury. Let me know if there's anything else that needs to be done – if you require more supplies, or a doctor…."
"I'll be fine," Heero croaked. He was ghastly pale, and his eyes had that glazed over look again.
"Get him something for the pain, too," she instructed the medic before turning to speak softly to the man she loved. Her hand rested on his cheek, and he closed his eyes, allowing himself to just feel her touch as he tried to block out the pain. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…."
Heero grimaced but nodded; he frowned as if trying to concentrate on what she was saying to him. "Please understand, what I did…"
"I know," he bit out through clenched teeth. "I told you, I'll be fine."
Quatre and Duo moved to take over supporting the injured soldier as Relena disentangled herself from him and stepped towards the door. "Please, take care of him."
"We will, your highness. He'll be all right."
"Thank you, Quatre," she said with a slight smile that didn't reach her eyes. With a last worried glance, she stepped out of the room, and headed back to her office.
"I'm so sorry, Heero…It's all my fault."
* * * * * *
The trio of soldiers walked in silence through the cold, stone passageway, set on retrieving the clothing they'd exchanged for the guard uniforms they were now wearing. Each was replaying the events of just a few minutes ago in their minds, seeing the image of Zechs with his hands tightened around Heero's throat.
"For once, I think Maxwell's actually speechless." Wufei's voice broke the stillness and echoed through the Manor's tunnels, it's tone not lost on Duo.
"Is that you actually trying to make a joke, Wufei?" Duo replied with a roll of his eyes, "Or did Zechs Merquise just hit you a little too hard and finally loosen that stick up your – Hey, what was that?"
The men stopped and listened, each holding his breath and straining to hear… anything.
"There could be other people in the passages, Duo," Trowa offered, having heard nothing. "The guards have their uniforms down here, and the servants probably use the tunnels as shortcuts."
Duo turned around and nodded, not really able to see much of his green-eyed companion in the dark. Up ahead, a few light bulbs were strung haphazardly along the wet stone walls, and as he turned around, the braided soldier was sure that he saw a shadow roll over the tunnel wall.
* * * * * *
Relena reached for the doorknob then stopped, turned around and stepped back in the direction she had come. What will I say? Why am I acting like a silly schoolgirl with a crush? She whirled around and held out a hesitant hand towards the door.
He knows how I feel about him…he heard… Her hand dropped down to her side. But what was I thinking in hoping they'd get along – my brother and my…what is he? Who is he? She turned away from the door again, her head bowed. Perhaps Milliardo is right… I'm such a fool… She stopped short as she collided with something…or rather someone.
* * * * * *
Heero raised his head with effort from his pillow and squinted through the darkness at the door. He could have sworn he had heard the firm tap of her heels just outside is room, and had expected her to appear by his bedside…. A deep voice cut through his thoughts, causing Heero to sit up more rapidly than he should. He winced, but was trying to remain silent enough to hear the quickly warming conversation just outside his door.
"And just where do you think you're going – into his room at this hour of night."
Dread filled the pit of his stomach and he climbed painfully to his feet, throwing aside the bed covers as he made the effort to stand. "Zechs…"
"I am going to pretend, brother, that you aren't insinuating anything by that remark – I am going to check on him as I do every night when you aren't around."
"Then why were you leaving just now?"
Heero's eyebrows shot up. "Leaving?"
"If you must know, I was concerned, if he is still awake, what he would have to say to me after my brother brutally attacked him this afternoon."
"He was out of line…"
"Like hell I was." He scowled and started towards the door. If the enemy was still looking for a fight….
"In what way?" Her voice still held that firm timbre of command. She wasn't backing down.
"The way he…I don't have to explain myself."
"And neither do I, brother."
"You just lost, Zechs." Heero smirked silently from his place near the door. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but they were standing right outside his room, and in a public hallway – they had no expectation of privacy.
"It is improper for you to be visiting his room at night, Relena. It is not something…"
"I don't give a damn what is proper and what isn't. There's a war going on, and bounds of propriety no longer seem to apply. The man is ill, and your behavior this afternoon I'm sure has made his condition worse. I will not be able to rest until I know he is not suffering, or that I have done all I can to ease his pain."
The wall to his room shook and an oath was yelled. Heero imagined the smug SS Colonel had just punched the wall.
"Fine, Relena, be his whore, but don't expect me to…."
Heero drew in a hostile breath, his lip curling into a snarl to go along with the murderous thoughts directed at the man behind the door. He made a move to throw it open, but stopped at the sound of skin striking skin. His blood ran cold as he imagined Zechs hurting Relena.
"How dare you insinuate such a thing!" Her voice wavered, and he stood still, unable to decide which action to take. So he continued to listen, waiting for his opportunity to catch the enemy off guard.
"It is apparent which side you have chosen, do not expect me to condone your choice or protect him that dishonors you."
"Let me tell you, Milliardo, I have resisted joining the Allies, in spite of my dislike of Germany and what they stand for, for one reason and one reason only. Because of you. I do not wish to invite war into this country, but I want even less to fight against my own family. I believed in you, have always loved you, but your behavior today has me wondering if my faith is poorly placed after all. If you can not and will not protect us any longer, then I shall do whatever is necessary for my people."
Heero took a step back from the door, his thoughts surfacing in the eerie silence. Her brother had made the last move, given her the final shove in the direction of exactly where her kingdom needed to go – joining the Allies. He knew she would not be difficult to convince, yet his mind would not stay focused on that logical element.
"Then you have made an enemy out of your brother."
"No, my brother makes an enemy out of me."
* * * * * *
The door swung open, and was thrown back again. She huddled against it, just inside his room, her back to where he was standing and waiting for her to turn…
She stood up and spun to face him; her eyes widened and she seemed to almost jump. "Heero!" Her hand fluttered up to her neck with a gasp. "Wha…you should be in bed…."
Dark blue eyes flashed as he noticed how her hands shook, even though the enemy was no longer in sight. "Did he hurt you?"
"What? Who?"
"I heard…."
She paled. "No, I slapped him. He wouldn't…."
He reached out and tilted her chin up with this hand. His thumb traced over a small portion of her jaw. "I asked if he hurt you."
Her eyes softened and her left hand came up to rest on his. "Heero…"
"I'll protect you, Relena. You just have to let me."
She stared at him a long moment. "I know what I said out there, but I can't…"
He shook his head slowly from side to side, and then took a step forward, bringing his body within inches of her. "Not the country…you…" He leaned down and claimed her lips, pressing his mouth lightly, at first, against hers, until he felt her hands sliding up his chest to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck. He wound his arms around her waist and folded her body against him while the kiss deepened, bringing a burning heat into every contact point between them. The searing ache of his wound disappeared and was replaced with an ache of another kind.
He had to pull away. "Relena…."
"I love you," she whispered, staring up at him, her arms still comfortably wrapped around his neck.
He couldn't reply. His mother had been the only person to love him before, and she'd been gone almost twenty years, now. He tightened his grip on her waist and pulled her in for another kiss, one that would show how he felt in his heart.
* * *
"Who are you?"
The boy stared defiantly back at him, and Duo tightened his grip around the stranger's slender throat. "I said, who are you?" He repeated through clenched teeth, adrenaline once again surging through his veins, left over from their run-in with The Lightening Count back in the dining room. With who-knows-how-many Nazis running around here, Duo had the feeling like he couldn't be too careful.
"I'm here to see Darlian," came the reply, tinged with a German accent. The voice was noticeably feminine, causing Duo to take a closer look. This was no boy.
"You're not from around here, are ya?" The braided soldier questioned, slanting his eyes. Trowa and Wufei moved in beside him. The communications officer studied their captive, turning the name she had mentioned over in his mind. He knew that name, deciphered it in codes. Darlian…
"And there's no one here called Darlian, at least not that I've met." Duo continued, still not relaxing his hold. "But you never answered my question. Who are you?" The girl's eyes glistened in the darkness. She'd come this far and would not be deterred.
"My name is Hilde Scheibeker. Please, it's very important that I see him. I have messages from Berlin." She was fighting to keep her eyes open. It wasn't difficult for any of them to tell she was exhausted.
"Berlin?" Trowa repeated, looking at the girl in askance.
Wufei crossed his arms. "And what news have the Nazi's got for us?"
"It's not for you," she hissed, pulling away and glaring at all three of them in turn. "And not everyone that comes out of Germany is a Nazi."