Hours later, the Lady awoke in her chambers to the sound of a man singing. The song was wordless, at least as far as she could tell, the singer merely using tones and vocalization to express himself. For a time she lay with her eyes closed, listening. When the singing stopped, she finally roused herself enough to look for the source.

He sat beside her bed, a sword laying across the palms of his hands as though he were offering it to someone else. It was a finely crafted work of art, and the Lady sat up to better examine it. Her movements were not unnoticed, and the man opened his eyes and looked over at her. "Greetings, Lady."

"You returned."

Realizing the redundancy of her statement, Une sat up and prepared to throw off the covers. Her intentions were spoiled when the man set the sword gently down and stood to his feet, his hand reaching out to still her. "Of course I did. I said that I would."

"My name, gracious Lady, is Wufei. Please, do not trouble yourself with any sort of rising and bowing. I do not need any thanks for heeding the call for Justice."

Lady Une nodded. "They told me that you set off to speak with the man who did this. Did you find him?"

"I did." Wufei inclined his head. "And we spoke together at length, his blade to mine. It was quite the experience, I assure you. His sword managed to put a few nicks in my blade, a hard feat for any sword not fashioned by the gods or high magic. Tell me, does he by any chance wield a blessed blade?"

The Lady shook her head. "He had it crafted for himself when he first ascended the seat of power in the city twelve years ago. There was the ceremonial request of the gods to bless the blade, but whether any god has actually touched it, I do not know. In fact, I do not even know whether he has taken a patron god. He never paid any respects to the temple of Ooragard, and I would have known if he were a follower of the Keeper of Faces."

Wufei returned to his seat on the floor, picking up his sword and returning it to its sheath. When he looked over at the Lady again, he appeared to be amused. "So he had no patron; yet you were willing to be his mistress, and beyond that, his minion. You gathered the secrets of the world for him. Tell me, what do you know of your betrayer?"

Une looked troubled. 'What do I know?'

-

Earlier that evening...

None of the guards reacted as the cloaked man strode through the palace doors and into the inner sanctum of the lord of the palace. He hesitated momentarily before the garden entrance, but as no one made move to stop him, eventually ventured inside. His lord was there waiting for him to arrive...

Treize looked up as the spy entered. Q'ivel stopped and bowed low to his master, waiting for permission to come nearer. He heard Treize's laughter and steeled himself to endure it until he better knew what was going on. When his lord finally spoke, it only served to confuse the spy further.

"I must heartily commend you upon the gallant use of your arms this day. You have rid us of a nuisance of the highest order, a noble from abroad sent to spy upon us. Your loyalty is quite commendable."

Q'ivel blinked and looked up. "Mi'lord?"

"You don't need to understand. You only need to accept my commendation." Treize's eyes narrowed and the spy realized that he had offended in some fashion. "But if your curiosity requires sating, you need only find the remains of your unfortunate victim in the halls below. I believe that the guard disposed of his belongings to the hall of justice. A murder without any motive is what they called it, I believe. You might be able to clear it up to their satisfaction, given the authority that you now wield in my name."

"Of course, I only heard of such goings on from your report just now. I've been busy with my mistress and so haven't had the time to be gallivanting around the city and visiting with foreigners."

It only required a few moments of thought for Q'ivel to grasp the situation that his lord was setting forth. If anyone were to ask, their roles that day were reversed. The story must be that the Lord Khush'Ranada had spent the day in the haven of his mistress' arms, while his loyal hound Q'ivel had dispatched a threat to the country.

"I understand, mi'lord."

Treize sighed pleasantly. "I thought you might. You didn't survive the streets by being stupid all of the time. That is why you are of some use to me now. Remember that, and your service will remain pleasant. I would so hate to have to dispose of two spymasters in the same week."

"Yes mi'lord." Q'ivel turned away, his lord's laughter still ringing in his ears...

-

Heero frowned with concern as he passed through the streets of the capital. There had only been one message earlier this week, the name of a meeting place. Nothing had been sent to him since then. He reached out with the power that he held and probed the surrounding area. Still nothing came to him, and he hurried onward.

The sensation of the earth was disturbing as he drew nearer to the meeting place. There was no welcome from the stones, nothing but the cold indifference of rock that had been trodden underfoot for centuries without a care. Still he moved onward, content in the knowledge that none marked his passing, his own magic shielding him from the notice of others. As he moved forward, his gaze remained fixed on his goal - a large building where any could practice their arts of war.

It took only a few moments to blend with the crowd that stood within the entrance, but longer than that before Heero could speak with anyone associated with the arena. The manager of the place took his coins and spoke briefly of several foreigners that had stopped in during the previous ten-day. Most had used the area to train in, but only a couple had stayed longer than a few hours. Heero barely acknowledged the man's farewell as he returned to the hallways, and the man seemed content to count his coins instead of paying attention to yet another stranger.

As he moved back through the hallways, Heero again searched the stone beneath him for answers. Again, it sent back the same cold feeling that he had received all day. Almost imperceptibly, his pace quickened. Something was wrong if the earth held no greeting. His path took him directly to each of the rooms that the manager had mentioned, and in each he stopped long enough to search it with both eye and magic. No one paid him any mind in either the first or second room, but the third was conspicuously empty for some odd reason. Heero stepped inside and closed the door.

Subtle flows of the magic ensured that the door would remain closed. Heero dropped the cloaking spell and walked over to the middle of the room. There was something different upon the floor here. Remnants of dried blood remained.

Outside of the room, a man blinked and looked around. Hadn't the door to that room been open a moment ago? Shrugging, he continued on his way, almost forgetting why he'd stopped in the first place.

Back inside of the room, Heero bent down and touched the bloodstained stones. Pushing forth with his magic, he strove to find some link to what had occurred, even if just from the perspective of the stones themselves. Who had taken an injury here, and why hadn't the room been given more than a cursory cleaning? His eyes narrowed as a sudden change in the magic caught his attention. A symbol appeared on one of the flagstones, partially traced with blood.

"Hietre."

Heero barely brushed the symbol and suddenly his perspective changed. He was lying on his back and someone stood over him with a sword. He knew instinctively that he was going to die. Part of his being registered the slow movements of his fingers upon the floor, even as he watched the sword descend. A flash of gold drew his attention away from the sword as it descended, long enough to register the design on the ring...

Just as suddenly he was back in his own body, reflexively clutching at his chest where the sword in the vision had pierced his brother through. Sweat dripped from his face, and it took a few breaths to reorient himself. Hietre was dead. Someone had come here to kill him, and they had succeeded, but not before a message could be passed on. A brown cloak, a black rapier, and the golden ring. These identified his murderer, and they would regret ever having taken the life of a child of the mountains. On this he swore his oath.

Whoever had done this had to have known of Hietre's arrival, and have surmised the reason behind it. Heero recast his magical cloak as he approached the door, drawing out the magic that held it shut. As he exited the room, he left the door ajar, precisely as he had found it. It was time for him to return to the palace, the princess would be desiring her daily walk in the gardens, and it would be best for him to be near at hand.

Relena was waiting for him when he arrived at the ambassador's quarters, though she seemed subdued. She remained quiet as they toured the grounds, sometimes pausing beside certain displays of flowers or cunning statuary, but always moving on without comment. Heero was content to leave things as they were, but something caught his eye as they returned along the pathway - a brown cloak passing into the palace. Almost he forgot his place and rushed after the figure, until a quiet sigh from the elf beside him stopped him in his tracks. The princess was staring forlornly at the palace proper, and he recalled that she had not had any opportunity to visit her brother. When he glanced back over, the cloak had already passed out of sight, and any chance of obtaining the trail at this point would be worthless. He could not drag the princess with him on a personal quest, it would be incompatible with his sworn duty as her bodyguard.

But perhaps he could help her upon the path of her personal quest. "Princess, if you so desire it, we might pass by the quarters of the foreign nobles before we make our way back to the ambassador's rooms." His voice sounded cold to his own ears, but Relena graced him with a whimsical little smile before shaking her head. Her eyes were sad as she turned away from the building.

"No, I doubt that he would be there. Perhaps when he is ready to speak with me I can see him; until then, I will hope for that day to come." A breeze picked up as she walked onward, sending the fragrance of the garden swirling by the pair. "Besides, I must prepare a suitable farewell for one of my dearest friends. She won't be coming with me to the banquet tonight."

Heero fell into step beside her, and as he watched the young woman from the corner of his eye, it seemed that she was crying silent tears even as her face graced the world with sunshine. Almost clumsily, he managed a few words designed to comfort. "It is hard, losing comrades. Even harder, if they are a true friend or brother."

Relena nodded, and Heero chanced a question. "Is she going far?"

Brilliant blue eyes met his, and for a moment Heero forgot what he had just asked. When he blinked, time moved forward again. The elven princess nodded, her gaze solidly fixed on him. "She is taking a road that very few have ever traveled. What dangers lie on it, even she cannot say. And should I see her again, things can never be the same betwixt us." Relena sighed. "I knew that this day would come eventually, though I much more expected to see it when she wed my brother. Nothing in the world today looks like I imagined it would in my childhood."

"They were married?" Heero raised an eyebrow.

"No, though they almost pledged themselves to one another. It was just before my father and mother were assassinated while returning from a state trip to Ganwyng. My brother decided to ride out and meet them half way there, and arrived just as they were attacked. I only saw him once afterwards; he told me that he had changed his name. That was the last time that either of us had seen him before this week." Relena shook her head slowly as they ascended the front steps of the ambassador's house. "She still loves him. But he is beyond her now, perhaps beyond us all."

"Once he gave himself to rage, all life left him. It is death for an elf to kill in a rage. That is why we often seem aloof to you humans, it is merely that we have been given the burden of keeping our emotions on a tight rein."

Heero nodded and stopped to open the door for the princess. She thanked him quietly as she entered the building and he stepped in behind her, closing the door and blocking off the view of the world outside. Elna greeted the returning wanderers as they stepped inside the princess' assigned chambers. Noin was there as well, hidden in the shadows as always. Heero left the princess in their care as he returned to his own quarters for the time being. Perhaps there would be time for a talk with Pagan before the banquet tonight. The old man certainly had many useful abilities, and it might be that he could explain a few things as well...

-

Upon another plane of existence...

She of the faces watched with amusement the petty squabbles upon the tiny portion of the world where her temples resided. In this human land of Ganwyng was one of her favored, and she often turned her attentions there as of late. Requests for her blessing were abundant lately upon those who espied the shadows and turned their faces inward to conceal their motives. Her favored had just finished another splendid evening of entertainment, when she felt the presence of one behind her.

"And now, Lady of Faces, you are mine!"

Chains stretched forth from the figure's hand, and when they enveloped her, she knew no more for a time...

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End Chapter
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AN: An explanation: I rewrote Heero's portion three times before I finally reached the final version. This whole thing is still too short for my tastes, but you all have been so patient that I felt that I needed to post something. Hopefully this clears up a few questions from previous chapters, and as always, probably raises a few more.

Thank you all for your support - it means a lot to me. The next chapter is in progress, and it seems to be flowing a little bit. Enjoy your reading, and if you find the heart, review.

See you next time.