I do not own Gundam Wing AC, nor do I profit in any form related to the show.

Solo snarled, green eyes gleaming with hatred as he heard their enemies steadily advance towards him. And the Prince.

The slender figure behind him trembled in tell-tale exhaustion, sheer will seeming the only thing to hold him up. His face was pale, and his eyes feverishly bright, but the look in their stunning depths showed that he was nowhere near defeated. Despite the perilous situation, Solo felt a surge of pride for his prince. The youth, for that was what he truly was considered as in their ancient race, had proven himself to be a strong and intelligent soul, managing to waylay their pursuers for several precious hours through cunning tricks and his blooming magical power.

Which brought him unpleasantly to the situation they were in.

"My Prince."

A wry twist of pale lips greeted him, and eyes that looked too old for a youthful face glanced at him. "We are the last of our people Solo. Our ancient lands ravaged, our blood spilt like water. What am I the prince of? Please, call me for once by my real name, and not some mocking title."

"I cannot, my Prince. At least, not now." Solo replied, feeling sorrow well up in him as he gazed upon what remained of his once cheerful, sunny prince that had stolen all his former subjects' heart. Dead subjects. "Listen. Do you hear them? This time we cannot flee no more. Hide, my Prince, and carry our peoples' memories within your soul. Live to revenge the Evil one, so our souls may lay in peace."

Solo turned to go, but the Prince's desperate voice caused him to pause.

"No! Solo…you cannot…How can you leave this burden on me? We can find a way, don't give up all hope yet!"

Solo tilted his head back, smiling gently at the stars one last time, silent witnesses to the catastrophe that had struck them. Without a word, he slipped into the dark embrace of the woods.

Seconds later, the sounds of fighting rang out in the woods, until a pained Elven death cry floated forth, carried by the wind, to echo in the Prince's ears.

"Duo."

5 years later…

The black cloaked figure sat down gracefully, carefully laying down a slender sheathed dagger next to him. The lean frame surreptitiously stretched, loosening stiff muscles as the innkeeper quickly hurried over.

"Hello sir," She recited, blue eyes twinkling as she handed him a menu, "what would you like today?"

The figure tilted his head, and the innkeeper saw a tired, but charming, smile under the darkness of his hood. With a soft, exhausted tone, the customer answered.

"A good meal and a soft bed, but I'm afraid I lack the coin, mistress. Would you mind if I washed some dishes and pay for a meal and bed that way?"

Hilde hesitated, but she noted the strong, confident way he talked, his entire manner radiating an aura of honesty. Besides, it would be not too much of a burden to give to someone who had evidently lost much, Hilde decided, noting the worn fabric of what had been decidedly an expensive and durable silk cloak, and the amazing craftsmanship of the dagger handle, never mind the blade.

"Sure." She said warmly. "But eat first, you look famished."

The stranger murmured a grateful, rather surprised, thanks, and cautiously picked up the menu. Immediately, his eyes fell to the bottom of it…

"Nope," Hilde declared, crossing her arms. "You are not going to have porridge. I'll be darned if I let you starve under my care."

The figure gave a grunt of disbelief, but then said, "How about a small bowl of vegetable noodle soup and a half of loaf of bread?"

Hilde fought the urge to strangle her customer. Of course he had to pick the second cheapest dish on the damn menu! She opened her mouth, ready to deny him that too, but his words cut her off.

"Truly mistress, I mean no insult. It is just that I…I really loved my mother's…" The words seem to stumble awkwardly out of the stranger's mouth, almost like he didn't mean to say it.

Hilde realized the wistful tone in the black-cloaked person's words were genuine, and she sighed and pretended not to hear the sentence that the stranger had accidentally leaked out.

"Stranger," She said, "I have a feeling that my definition of small is going to be a mite different than yours." The last was added with a wink.

The person shifted, and suddenly said, "Call me Shinigami." The words were wary, but at the same time, warm, as if the stranger had abruptly decided to trust her.

"Pleased to meet you Shinigami." The innkeeper said, trying out the exotic sounding name on her tongue. "My name's Hilde, and I hope you'll enjoy your stay."