For the second time that day, Relena found herself being plunged into icy water.
But this time, Trowa was the one doing it. At least he was in the water with her, so she knew he was suffering just as much. She had already taken one for the team; it was time for him to get in this mess with her.
And so Relena played the part of a heathen being converted, as Trowa dunked her in the water, three infuriating times, baptizing her in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. She gagged and gasped for air each time he brought her up, only to submerge her again. But it was over in a few minutes.
Then the congregation watched expectantly as Trowa led Relena out of the baptismal, onto the stage, over to an altar in the form of a stone table. On it was a bronze pitcher, filled with liquid that gleamed golden in the dim light from hundreds of candles glimmering all around the sanctuary, illuminating the space in an eerie glow. Trowa picked up the pitcher and carried it over to Relena, and she caught a whiff of what smelled like essential oils.
This wasn't so bad. It would be like getting a massage. So she told herself.
Her heart pounded as Trowa stepped nearer, his soaked white robe leaving practically nothing to the imagination. Of course, she had already caught a glimpse of him when he was changing earlier, although he'd done his best to be modest. Which was a laugh, considering the situation. And anyway, her own white garment was soaked, and it was freezing in there, which her stiff nipples were making extremely obvious to anyone who was looking.
Which was, well, everyone.
Relena had looked only briefly at the crowd of parishioners when she'd first walked into the sanctuary with Trowa, entering from the side of the pulpit and going straight to the baptismal without having to run into anyone else, blessedly. The sanctuary was surprisingly full, of men and women, mostly in their twenties and thirties, some a little older. And they were all wearing nearly identical outfits; the men all had suits and ties; the women, frumpy patterned dresses. They certainly looked the part of cultists.
And she and Trowa had their rapt attention, which was exactly what they wanted. By now, they could only hope that Duo was in place, working to disable the bomb. Relena and Trowa just had to play the part until midnight, and according to the clock hanging on the back wall, they had another 45 minutes to kill.
Unfortunately, there wasn't much of the ceremony left to go. The parishioners had already sung a few acapella hymns at the beginning of the service. Then Trowa had rattled on some apocalyptic nonsense for several minutes, until it was clear the crowd was getting restless. Then Lucy scampered over from her seat and hissed that they needed to start the baptism, and Trowa had reluctantly complied.
Now, they'd come to the part where he was supposed to anoint her with the oil. His eyes were downcast, and she urged him to look at her. She wished they could engage in some silent communication, the way she and Heero had always seemed able to do. But Trowa wasn't looking at her; he was staring down at the pitcher in hand, and she could have sworn he looked flustered.
Thinking about what he was supposed to do with that oil, probably.
His hands faltered, sloshing some of the oil over the spout of the pitcher and onto the carpeted stage floor. Relena willed him to look her in the eye. At last, he looked up and met her gaze.
It's okay, she urged him. You can do this.
He sucked in a breath and dipped his fingers into the pitcher, then smeared oil onto Relena's forehead.
"My child, I anoint thee…" His brow furrowed, as if he forgot what else he was supposed to say. Relena suppressed a giggle. "...in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit," he added. Relena had a feeling that was not how that little blessing was supposed to go.
She was right.
"May the Lord bless you and keep you…" Lucy prompted from the sidelines. Trowa shot her a smile.
"Right. May the Lord bless you and keep you, and make His face shine upon you…" Trowa sped through the rest of the verse, and Relena was impressed. He'd sure memorized a lot to play this part. She wondered how long he'd been preparing to masquerade as Aiden. So far, he was giving one hell of a performance. She almost believed he really was a preacher.
Trowa set the pitcher back down on the table, and took Relena's hand in his, turning her toward the crowd. "My children, please join me in welcoming your new sister to the fold."
The parishioners gawped up at them both, utterly silent.
"Father," Lucy hissed, "what about the ritual?"
Trowa tipped his head to the side and answered her. "The lord hath spoken to me and assured me, he is pleased with Sister Peacecraft's absolution of her sins. There is no need to proceed with—"
"But if you don't copulate before midnight, the lord will enact his judgement!" A man cried from the back of the room.
"She's bewitched him!" A woman hissed from another pew.
"Seize the witch before she enchants us all!"
The crowd's murmuring grew louder, and several people launched out of their seats, surrounding the pulpit area. Trowa stepped back, taking Relena by the elbow.
"Great," she whispered, "now the horde is closing in. You'd better act, now…"
"Children, please." Trowa help up both hands. "We will…enact part of the ritual, thus pleasing the lord. There is no need for any further alarm."
The anxious parishioners settled back in their pews, murmuring to one another. Relena wondered if Trowa's words would be enough to keep them calm for the time being. Trowa shot her a sidelong glance, and Relena wished she could know what he was thinking. At the same time, she wasn't keen to wait around to see what these people might do if they continued to keep them waiting.
It was time to take matters into her own hands.
Relena fell to her knees, making herself prostate at Trowa's feet. "Father, forgive me, for I have sinned! I beseech you...show me your infinite mercy, though I am most undeserving! I humble myself before you and ask that you will use me as you see fit! Oh, Father, I am your vessel!"
Relena continued to howl her "confession" for several minutes, dying to see Trowa's expression, wondering if this would be enough to make him break. After she finished her little monologue, she glanced up to see him gazing down at her, completely expressionless.
"You are forgiven, child," Trowa said, tucking his hand under her chin and raising Relena to her feet.
"Thank you, Father," she breathed, clutching his hand in hers. "I throw myself upon your mercy and lovingkindness." She pressed his palm to her breast. Trowa sucked in a breath.
The crowd grew restless again.
"Cleanse the witch from her sins with thy holy essence!" someone cried.
"Take her sacrifice in the name of our lord!"
They began shouting more nonsensical things, but from what Relena could hear, their demands were growing more and more obscene.
"Children, please." Trowa helped up his hands, trying to quell the frenzy. "I assure you, I will initiate your sister."
Relena batted her eyes at him. "Does that mean I get to call you… Daddy?"
She saw his eyes widen, but he immediately recovered his facial features. "Right. On with the initiation."
The crowd burst into applause and cheers. Relena had honestly never seen anything like this. And then Trowa leaned close to her and whispered, "Are you sure about this?"
"Absolutely," she breathed. "And I expect you to really sell it."
He huffed a breath. "Fine. I apologize in advance."
Relena wondered what he meant by that, but there wasn't much time to worry about it.
Because Trowa was walking back over to the altar, the crowd was going wild, and this was about to go down…