A/N: And yet another installment! My goodness, I've been on such a roll lately. Gotta milk this inspiration while it still lasts, right? This is the final introduction chapter, so things will finally start getting interesting for all you 1xR fans who've patiently waded through the first 3 installments.
Also, thanks to those who keep coming back to this story and the lovely two who took extra time to leave reviews. I know this fandom is not very active now and I can't reasonably expect any reviews if at all. But if any of you have any spare time, please let me know if you like it! It's great encouragement to continue writing :). Enjoy!
Chapter Three
Thick gray clouds hung heavily in the sky. The air felt quite dense with pressure. It looked as if there would be rain today, Minister Darlian noted as he peered out the window. He only hoped it would not bear down on him as he returned from his meetings today, as the roads became quite unbearable in the rain.
The door to the dining room creaked open as Relena greeted her good morning father before taking a seat across from him. They took their breakfast in silence.
Darlian was the first to break the ice.
"Relena," he said, making sure to add a bit of sternness to his tone.
"Yes?" she looked up, wondering slightly what could cause him to be so serious so early in the day.
"Did something happen last night?"
Relena blinked, "No, nothing out of the ordinary. Why do you ask?"
Darlian pulled up a bundle of cloth that had been resting on his lap. She realized it was her torn gown from last night.
"The housekeeper found this stashed underneath your bed. Now, tell me, did something happen?"
Relena looked down guilty and fiddled with her napkin, "I saw a girl get hit by a horse last night and went over to help her. She was bleeding so I tore some cloth to make her some bandages. I didn't mean to ruin the dress."
"I don't care for the gown, my dear, only for your safety and well-being."
"Nothing serious happened, I swear it."
The fact that she was happy and healthy that morning confirmed her statements. The minister leaned back in his seat, assuaged a bit by the earnestness in her voice. He could not relax fully, however. The conversation he had with Marshal Noventa last night replayed in his head. What if she had been in a serious accident? What if he wasn't around? What would have happened then?
A sickening feeling settled in his stomach as it had many times before when he thought about these things. Except this time he felt much more keenly, because Relena was a young woman now. He was nearing fifty. How much longer did he have on this earth to protect her? How much longer did he have to guard her secret?
Say, if he lived another twenty years, Relena would be near 40 by then. What if he waited until then to tell her of her birthright? What if she wished to reclaim her homeland but no longer had the vigor to do so? Would she hate him for depriving her that knowledge when she was younger, more able to take action?
Or would she merely accept the revelation and quietly continue with her life?
If the latter, then Darlian personally had a hard time accepting it. She was the very last heir to the Peacecraft lineage! Every day that passed with her living under Romefeller's oppressive rule pained him immensely – she deserved so much better. Better than being forced to marry a Romefeller man.
Pagan had entrusted him to make a decision based on his knowledge of the future, but the situation was still so complicated.
Truthfully, Relena and all of Sanc deserved better than this. She deserved to have her homeland restored and the good people of Sanc deserved a ruler who was kind and just, who would earnestly connect with their people, not the tyrant Dekim who had invaded their lands and pillaged their resources.
Darlian wanted to restore Sanc and give Relena her birthright, but even after all this time he just didn't know how they would ever be able to get there.
Initially many of the colonies and Sanc's original territories were still vehemently loyal to the old kingdom. For years he had worked quietly underground with the rebel network, helping them hold steadfast to their beliefs and fiercely resist most of Romefeller's attempts to change them. Darlian's position also afforded him a great deal of power to help keep the status quo stagnant. Whenever Oz wanted to initiate an aggressive military campaign, Darlian was able to defuse the situation and negotiate compromises to buy the rebels more time. Over the years they had built up sizable resources in preparation for a revolution when the time was right.
But, everything changed for the worse once Heero Yuy was promoted to the rank of general and Treize Khushrenada was granted control of Oz.
Prince Treize was ruthless and even more careful and calculating than King Dekim. He was a man who believed in action and often said war brought out the true nature of a human being. A man's words were not always genuine, but the actions of a man motivated by life or death were always true.
His beliefs were enforced by General Yuy, whose unmatched strength in combat left no room for anything otherwise.
The past four or five years were a diplomatic nightmare for Minister Darlian. The fifteen years it took for him to build up a secret support network for Relena's potential return were almost entirely decimated in just one third of the time. The rebels were too scared to meet now. Treize and Oz had used him as a pawn to promise negotiation talks with the Mars rebel leaders in order to lower their defenses and allow General Yuy to carry out his preemptive attacks. Those poor souls... they trusted him, and then they died believing he turned traitor.
"Hold on!" he wanted to scream at the colonies, "Don't give up! Just wait, there's still hope! Please!"
If Relena attempted to revive the Sanc Kingdom now, she would surely fail. Then all his and Pagan's efforts would have been for naught. If they continued to lose ground like this, then they would never again have the opportunity to strike back. So they needed to act soon, but if their plan failed... he shuddered to think what Romefeller would do to her if they ever found out. Death would be too merciful a punishment.
What was he supposed to do?
Relena watched her father's shift in expressions with worry.
"Father… is everything alright?"
"You should be more careful from now on," Darlian muttered darkly.
The young woman jumped at his sudden shift in tone, "I assured you, nothing happened-"
"Yes, but what if something did? What if the rider circled around and hit you as well? What then?"
Relena opened her mouth to respond but was cut off as the minister stood from the table abruptly.
"I'm not going to be around forever, Relena!" his tone grew louder with each word, "There will come a day where I won't be able to protect you anymore, then what will happen? If I die you'll have no power, no income, nothing! You'll become a ward of the state and forced to take a husband, but how can I permit you to become the subservient wife Romefeller expects you to be?"
"Father, please-"
"You don't realize just how important you are!" he shouted and pounded his fist upon the table.
Darlian's chest heaved with agitated breaths. His mind was a storm of negativity and apprehensions. Heartache. Anxiety. Anguish for the present, for the future. Closing his eyes, he willed himself to settle those clouds that plagued his consciousness. When he opened his eyes again, he saw his adoptive daughter looking back at him with a slightly fearful expression.
He felt a wave of remorse wash over himself.
"I… I'm sorry, my dear," Darlian slumped in his seat, "Please forgive me. I've been under much stress lately."
A few silent moments passed before Relena rose and went to her father. She gently wrapped her arms over his shoulders in a calming embrace.
"It's alright," she whispered, "Have more faith in the teachings mother left me. I'm not a silly little girl anymore, you know. I'm nearly twenty now - I won't be intimidated by anyone, especially any man I take as my husband."
"Relena..." Darlian's voice broke with sadness, "If only you knew…"
"So, Minister Darlian misses his homeland very much, does he? I suppose it makes sense with how much interest he pays to the dealings with the colony rebels."
King Dekim sat at a large, ornate desk, his hands folded pensively in front of his face. Opposite of him sat Lady Une, garbed in her normal military attire with her light brown hair pulled tightly into two buns. At first, Dekim had been quite wary of the woman. She had been shown to exhibit two different personas – one which was polite and diplomatic, and another that was callous and arrogant – so he never quite knew whether or not she was trustworthy.
But, over the years he came to understand her split personality was not much of an issue at all. Her second persona was the one that reigned supreme, but even if she entered her more timid character she was still quite faithful to the state.
She did catch the attentions of Prince Treize, after all, and he knew his son's observation skills were quite impressive.
Prince Treize Khushrenada had not initially been first in line for the throne. His older half-brother was, Trowa Barton, was originally the first and only true candidate to succeed the crown. Treize was in actuality Dekim's illegitimate son from another noblewoman, hence his differing surname. Dekim had paid him no attention as the boy was growing up and even refused to seek responsibility for him at times. He had focused all his efforts on Trowa and held such high hopes for him.
Little did he know how foolish Trowa would turn out, despite Dekim's best efforts.
Once he came of age, Trowa joined Oz and his ideals changed for the worse. Dekim knew not what poisoned his son's brain, but he began to talk of liberating the colonies and allowing them to live as independent collectives. The final straw came when Trowa encountered that young orphan boy who had no name. When he adopted him, and gave the boy his own noble name, Dekim cut off contact and passed over him in favor of Treize.
After news came of Trowa's death, Dekim felt little remorse. His son had already been dead to him for a while.
At the very least, it taught him a valuable lesson. To be wary of any and all he encountered, even his flesh and blood.
"Here are reports I was able to have my agents compile last night," Lady Une said as she placed a stack of papers on his desk.
Dekim perused their contents, making note of a few keywords.
"Marshal Noventa has been making sure he is privy to particular details," he remarked.
"Shame," he said while throwing down the documents, "Minister Darlian was such an asset to Romefeller. I wonder what he still sees in those lands. That kingdom has been dead for twenty years, you'd think the man would have learned to let go by now."
Lady Une offered no reply, but Dekim continued nonetheless.
"I suppose it is partly my fault for trusting a Sanc man, after all," he sighed, "It will be difficult to find a replacement, but I suppose we'll manage. He's nearly worn out his tenure anyways. Time for a fresh face on the council."
"What about Marshal Noventa?"
Dekim paused.
"As much as I'd like to have him replaced as well, he still has business to complete for Romefeller. Aquarius and Mars are set, but we still need him to finish establishing an Oz base in the Libra regions. Bringing on a new marshal would then require years of training and re-developing rapport with the colony before they cooperate. Besides, Noventa's ability to meddle with other affairs will be drastically reduced once Darlian is out of the picture, so I am not too concerned about letting the cur exist for a while longer."
Une nodded in understanding.
"I've other matters to attend to now," Dekim said as he reseated himself, "You know what to do, Une."
"Yes," the woman bowed and took her leave.
"Oh, and one more thing: this mission is only between you and me. Leave no witnesses and tell no one, not even my son, of your actions."
"Understood."
As the door creaked shut, Dekim returned his attentions to the stack of documents on his desk, business as usual.
Sweat dripped from Heero's brow as he practiced his sword strikes over and over for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. These movements were so familiar to him – every inch of his body was well versed in these movements. This time he had weights and armor pieces strapped to each limb to familiarize himself with the changes Master J was making to the Wing One suit. Each breath was coordinated perfectly with every flex and contraction of his muscles, moving in such swift, beautiful synchrony that the new recruits training nearby could not help but stare in awe at the general's abilities.
"Distractions like that are what get you killed on the battlefield," Trowa said.
The recruits flinched.
"Y-Yes sir!"
Elsewhere, Quatre and Wufei were training new troops of their own.
"Where's Maxwell?" Wufei called to the other general.
"No idea," Quatre replied, "I hope he arries soon, though. It's getting tiresome dealing with his extra troops."
Heero continued his training. One, two, three. Inhale. Four, five, six. Exhale.
A major key of Romefeller's success was the implementation of a special, new set of armors developed by an ancient, elite order of scholars. Traditional armor was made from welding together many plates of steel in an inefficient, unwieldy manner that greatly limited the mobility and range of the warriors they meant to protect.
But this new set of armor, referred to as "mobile suits", solved those problems and more.
The new suits were larger, allowing the warriors to tower two or three times higher than their enemies, but they despite their size they were lightweight and easy to move through operating a series of mechanisms. The scholars had studied the human body extensively and modeled their suits almost exactly after the body's natural joints and ligaments. Thus the suits were fitted very well to accommodate a wide range of movements. The material they built these suits from did not compensate in defense, however, and was actually ten times stronger than steel. What it was nobody knew except for a select few Masters among the order, who guarded its secrets heavily.
These select few Masters, five in total, also created more elite models, custom designed specifically for General Yuy, the four generals, and Prince Treize.
Heero's suit was named Wing One.
"So!" Duo chirped as he suddenly appeared, hanging upside down from the tree Heero had been practicing under, "When are you going to invite Miss Noventa to dinner?"
Heero was unfazed by the general's surprise visit.
"Whoop!" Duo pulled his braid away at the last moment, narrowly avoiding one of Heero's strikes. He swung down from the tree.
"Hey, did you hear me? You should get to know her!"
One, two, three. Inhale.
"She seems like a nice girl! And she really likes you, you know!"
Four, five, six. Exhale.
"How are you going to live with yourself if you let her get away?"
Heero ended his practice with one last thrust and sheathed his sword.
"I'll manage," was the only reply he gave to the general's questions.
Duo frowned, obviously dissatisfied with his friend's answer. As Heero began disassembling his weights and headed towards the barracks, Duo followed along.
"Really, is fighting the only thing that matters to you?" he yelled, "You can't keep acting like you don't have emotions forever. Sooner or later you're going to have to learn to care about other things!"
"I'm at a loss as to why my personal life is such a concern to you," Heero said while rinsing himself at a water basin.
"Fifty years from now I don't want to see you die with nobody by your side and regret a life you could have had," Duo warned, "You may not realize it, Heero, but bonds are an important asset to a person. Contrary to what you think they don't make you weaker – they make you stronger, more willing to protect what you hold dear."
"They're a vulnerability that is easily exploited."
"How would you know? You've never tried!"
Heero again saw a vision of a young girl, dressed in a simple white frock. A straw hat shielded her eyes. In her arms, she carried a small puppy.
She handed him the puppy, which he took awkwardly. It yelped happily at him.
Suddenly, the puppy was in pain. He was covered in open wounds. They were surrounded by fire. The same little girl before now lay at his feet, a charred husk.
"I don't want to discuss this anymore, Duo," Heero snapped as he willed the memory away.
Duo sighed, "Just give Sylvia a chance, will ya?"
Heero ignored him and headed back towards the training yard.
Duo was close in pursuit, "I'm not giving up, you hear?!"
The gates to the training yard swung open with great force. In stormed a certain marshal, face as white as a sheet.
"F-Field Marshal Noventa!" Duo stuttered, "We didn't mean to talk about your grand-"
"General Yuy, Colonel Maxwell," the urgency in Noventa's tone immediately put the two officers on edge, "You and the other generals are needed at once."
Something was very wrong.
"What has happened?" Heero's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Vice-Minister Darlian has been assassinated."
Darlian sat at his study, staring listlessly at the wall ahead. He kept thinking back to his actions during breakfast and the fearful way Relena had looked at him. He had never had an outburst like that, ever. Especially not to her. Although he had apologized profusely for his behavior, remorse continued to wrack his mind.
The burden of the secret was beginning to take its toll on his psyche.
Coupled with the fact that support for Sanc was waning quicker than he could hold onto them, Darlian just felt at loss of what to do next.
He looked down at a portrait he kept on his desk of Mareen, a younger Relena, and him at a happier time in their lives. It was painted when Relena was around seven years of age. He lifted the frame and studied it, memories of much easier times filling his mind. Back when Mareen was still alive and there to support him. Back when there was no Treize Khushrenada, Heero Yuy, or any of his 4 generals. Back when the colonies were still strong and firm in their ideals. Back when he still truly believed that the Sanc could one day return.
His fingers traced the bottom of the frame.
As his thumb grazed a flower at the bottom right-hand corner, a slit opened at the bottom of the portrait. Inside was a letter he had written at the same time the portrait was painted. In it, he detailed the true origins of Relena's heritage as a failsafe in case anything happened that rendered him incapable of conveying the knowledge to her in person.
Darlian brushed his thumb over the flower again to close it.
He placed the portrait back in its usual spot on his desk.
After Relena turned 12, he no longer had portraits of her painted. That's when her features began to strongly resemble the late Queen Peacecraft. He suppose he also hadn't updated the letter since that time, either.
Perhaps it was time to write the newest draft, describing the current situation with the colonies and Sanc's supporters. It would likely help calm his mind to at least be able to vent to the paper.
Well, he would wait a little bit first. With recent news from Marshal Noventa, things were in a precarious situation, and he wanted to make sure things were stable first. Speaking of which, he still had much paperwork left to complete.
He worked for a while in silence, save for the gentle scratching of his pen upon the paper.
A loud gusts of wind suddenly rattled the windows.
The storm was finally starting, hm?
Darlian went to his windows and pulled the curtains back. Indeed, he could see the trees that lined his properties began to shake with more vigor as the winds grew faster. A few raindrops pattered against the glass.
He looked around for the bars he usually used to secure the windows in the face of strong winds. Strangely, though, he could not find them. Perhaps he would ask the house staff if they had misplaced it while they were cleaning. They had never touched the bars before, but then again storms were few and in between lately so he had not checked if the bars were there for quite a while.
As Darlian went to the door, he found it did not budge.
"What in the…?"
He pulled and twisted harder. The knob would not turn. Was it jammed? Or locked? That was odd, he never locked his study door. Had someone done it from the other side? But nobody among the house staff ever been instructed to do so.
"Hey!" Darlian pounded loudly on the door, "Anyone in the hallway? This is Minister Darlian! I am locked in the study!"
He listened intently but there was no response. He was honestly perplexed. For hours he had sat in complete silence and had not heard anyone outside or the click of the locking mechanism.
Perhaps the door was jammed, then. It was an old house, after all.
Darlian knelt down and peered through the keyhole, wondering if he could catch glimpse of anyone walking by.
His heart skipped a beat.
Dread filled his chest. Adrenaline raced through his veins.
There lying in the hallway were the corpses of two of his servants, their blood painting menacing arcs upon the walls.
Panic set in.
Darlian returned hurriedly to his desk and fumbled through the drawers for something that could help him loosen up the knob. His heart pounded loudly in his ears. It disturbed him greatly that such carnage had occurred just outside yet he had not heart a single sound. Who could have done such a thing?! Who else in the house was…
"RELENA!" he hollered.
Was she safe? Where was she?! Oh no, please god no. He needed to get out of here immediately! He needed-
"Hello, Vice-Minister Darlian."
The aforementioned man froze.
A horrifying chill ran down his spine.
He knew that voice.
Looking up slowly, his brown eyes met those of a certain frightening woman who was well-known throughout the kingdom for taking pleasure in watching her foes grovel desperately for mercy. A futile effort, for clemency was not an ideal she knew.
Her presence could only mean one thing.
"You…"
Lady Une smirked at the man.
"Good evening, sir."
The room was briefly illuminated by a blinding flash of light. The loud crashing of thunder followed after, ripping through the stressful silence. The steady dull drumming of rainfall occurred not too long after.
"It seems it will be quite stormy tonight," Une observed casually, "Quite a befitting mood for the occasion, don't you think?"
Darlian did not respond but willed himself to stay calm. He would not give her the satisfaction of seeing his will break, even in the face of his impending demise…
"Well, I mustn't linger too long," she said, "Wouldn't want to be stuck in the worst part of the storm."
There was a flash of silvery steel. Thick, crimson blood poured out over the desk.
Darlian sputtered and gurgled as he clasped his hands fruitlessly over his slit throat.
The assassin flicked the gore from her blade and watched disdainfully as the pitiful man sank to the floor, trying uselessly to grab at the family portrait resting on his desk.
Une sheathed her sword. As she prepared her exit, she called out one last remark to the dying man.
"King Dekim sends his regards."
Relena gazed out at the somber, grey weather. Though her eyes were focused on the pitter patter of raindrops trickling down her window, her mind was preoccupied with contemplating and re-contemplating her father's behavior that morning.
It was the first time since her mother's death she had seen him break down.
She could not remember another time her father had seemed so distressed over her actions. She had done objectively worse things in her youth yet father had never reacted so severely. Not even the one time she got lost for a whole day on a family outing even when her parents had explicitly told her not to wander off. She had gone out with Natalie countless times before and though she returned last night with a torn dress, her body had no signs of trauma or injuries. She was fine. So what was worrying him so?
Relena let out an exasperated sigh. She couldn't figure it out.
In the distance, she could see Romefeller castle. A formidable fortress looming tall and foreboding over the rest of the kingdom.
Perhaps the stress of his work was contributing to his mood. She wondered what could be going wrong over there. Didn't the Mars colony campaign return victorious? Before that, Romefeller successfully managed to control the rebel situation in Aquarius and establish a military base there. So, it looked as if everything was going according to their plans.
Was there something he wasn't telling her?
Suddenly, there were screams.
"RELENA!"
She jerked upright. Was that her father hollering for her?
Why did she suddenly feel unsettled?
"Coming!" Relena called and gathered her skirts up and quickly before making her way down the hall. As she descended the staircase into the foyer, an unholy sight came into view.
Relena's body immediately went rigid, immobilized by the scene before her.
Bodies littered the entryway. She recognized them as members of the housestaff, laying prone upon pools of blood. The smell of iron was oppressive and seemed to stick to the walls of her lungs. Relena fought back the urge to gag.
She could not breathe.
Her legs gave out beneath her and Relena screamed as she tumbled down the staircase, groaning as she landed in pain amongst the unfortunate corpses.
"L… Lady D-Darlian…"
Nile blue eyes widened in terror.
"Fosset!" her cried breathlessly. The coachman she had known all her life stared back at her with vacant eyes, "What happened? Please, hold on, I'll get help!" She began ripping cloth from her dress again but tears quickly blinded her vision. He was so cut up everywhere and covered in blood! She couldn't tell where to begin dressing his wounds!
"N-No…" he whispered, "Your… father…"
Weakly, he lifted a finger towards the opposite corridor.
Relena's blood ran cold.
Without another word, she sprinted down the hall, past more carnage and bodies. Her father's study was at the end of the hall. The door was wide open.
No…
Minister Darlian lay face down upon the carpet. A tell-tale pool of blood surrounded his body.
"Father!" Relena screamed, "Not this, please, this can't be true!"
Maybe there was a chance he was still alive. Maybe he could still be saved. All her hopes were dashed once she saw the gaping wound in his neck – cut wide open. Blood spilled from it and onto her disheveled dress.
Her body went numb.
"No…" tears dripped down her cheeks, "No, please, you can't leave me all alone…"
She begged and sobbed, but she knew nothing could be done now. His body was already growing cold. He was long gone. All she could do now was hold his body to her chest and grieve.
Relena did not know how much time had passed before she heard footsteps pounding up the courtyard and into the foyer.
There was much shouting and movement to be heard down the hall, yet she was scarcely aware of what was occurring.
"Relena!"
She heard the commanding shouts of an older man but they did not register.
"Relena, where are you?!"
Was that Marshal Noventa's voice?
General Maxwell appeared breathless at the study's entryway, his face grim with worry. An expression of relief briefly flashed across his face as he took in Relena's condition. Her dress was covered in blood but thankfully it did not seem to be her own. He could see a few bruises forming on her limbs but otherwise was relatively unharmed.
"Lady Darlian!" he went to her side, "Are you alright? Did you see what happened?"
"General Maxwell…?" Relena whispered. Her head felt faint, "I…"
Duo cursed. She was in shock, he had to get her to safety immediately.
"You must come with me now," he took her hand, gently trying to coax her away from her father's body.
"Heero, Marshal Noventa!" he yelled down the hall, "I found her!"
He placed a hand securely on her waist and tried to help her up.
She was only vaguely aware of Duo's attempts to get her to stand, but she felt nothing. Her vision was leaving her.
"Lady Darlian? Lady Darlian!"
Everything faded to black.
