Disclaimer: I own nothing of GS/GSD. R&R please.

A/N: Dear readers-cum-reviewers, thank you for coming this far with me. (Don't worry, I am not about to declare the discontinuation of this!) I just wanted you all to know that everyone is so awesome. I absolutely appreciate those writing in and telling me how they liked certain things while giving me ways to improve each chapter.

I also want to apologise for the long time it's taken- some major papers to write for class and some reworking of the story took a far longer time than I expected. Of course, I was also waiting for a certain number of reviews, so thanks to those who actually wrote in-I love you guys especially. Whatever the case (or excuse), I love you all and beg you to continue reading and reviewing.

TO APOLOGISE PROPERLY, I'VE INCLUDED A SPECIAL SECTION OF QUESTIONS/RESPONSES AND ANSWERS BASED ON THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER. THESE SHOULD BE READ BEFORE THIS CHAPTER, UNLESS YOU PLAN NOT TO READ THESE AT ALL (SPOILER ALERT FOR SOME)

Some of them were really entertaining, and some answers should give you some important clues! :) Special thanks to Shiloah18 and Juveniliare for the interesting questions and responses- many of which mirrored other FAQs!

For those who've asked questions about plot and character and things like that, I'm sorry I can't answer all those questions, nyeheheh. (Unless you want to be spoiled, of course.) So ask away, and my answers or silence may possibly help you piece together what will eventually unfold. Or you could wait, of course. The questions that get silence for answers are often more telling than those with answers I can give, mostly because the answers are already obvious in the existing chapters.

Some interesting questions regarding the previous chapters that some reviewers have asked (my answers are in bold):

1. 'Is the Plants behind all of this?'(Shiloah18, Brightlywoundbylight)

Silence.

2. 'Are the locked doors in the said manor the ones with fugitives?' (Shiloah 18)

No. Athrun just likes the air to be stuffy. The maids are also too lazy to unlock doors.

3. 'Is Greyfriars an Eye?' (Shiloah18)

Don't worry about Greyfriars. He's just a nice old man.

4. 'What is Kitani Harumi doing in the Fifth Eye's manor?' (Shiloah18)

Do you want to hear Athrun's answer (see previous chapter) or my answer? My answer is Athrun's answer (See next chapter- i.e. wait for it).

5. 'How come Athrun and Cagalli are married?' (Orangeaide/Brightwoundbylight/abitofhappinesstoeat)

/how the heck did Athrun marry Cagalli when Lent said that Athrun married Lyra? was that the exchange he had done to remain on the Isle?
(Shiloah18)

Because she forgot to cancel the engagement properly. No, seriously. It happens all the time. A and B marry in country X, but B and C are married in country Y, and the marriage in country X is approved of because country Y's marriage authorities are not country X's marriage authorities.

6. 'I thought Epstein never knew his parents? that or maybe my memory fails me.. -.-v' (Shiloah 18)

I meant that metaphorically.

7. 'Superior 7, is that Yzak? he sounds like Yzak (calling Athrun by his surname, profanities granted and when he said, "I never thought I'd see the day when you were a subordinate, calling me sir.") if not Yzak, is it Shinn? though I really think it's the former... (alittlebitofhappiness/MessersDarcy/ORANGESQUASH/Shiloah18/)

It's meant to be obvious.

8. 'what was Laplacia's reaction when Cagalli stumbled out of the library supporting a feverish Athrun? I want to know since she was the one who said that their master didn't want to see her.. hmm.. (Shiloah18)

I don't know. I never planned to show her reaction because the focus was on Asucaga. But I guess Laplacia was okay with it.

9. 'how about Epstein and Cartesia's reactions when Athrun glowered at them and told them to leave him alone though Cagalli was already there and he didn't seem to mind her supporting him..' (Shiloah18)

See above.

10. 'When was it mentioned that their contract would only be effective during the night?' (Shiloah18)

It was implied in the second-last chapter. Anyway, I don't think it's romantic if Athrun tries to cop a feel in the daytime. Or does anybody disagree? Send me a PM and I can try and work it out. *winks*

11. 'Cagalli's schooling reminded me of "Madeline" lol' (Shiloah18)

1st response: Thank you! (Er wait, is Madeline similar to Malory Towers?)

2nd response if Madeline is NOT Enid Blytonish: Wait 'til you see the next chapter. I doubt Enid Blyton would approve of the shennigans the girls got up to- it involved more than midnight snacks, that's for sure.

12. 'I wonder how would Athrun react if Cagalli painted Kira or Lacus, hmm..' (Shiloah 18)

He would freak out. Cagalli's not exactly Picasso. To see what she likes to paint, read the chapter below.

13. 'I bet Athrun was happy to see those tears. Though they're not of joy, it meant that she cares for him! I think.. ^.^v'(Shiloah 18)

That's right.

14. 'what Cagalli did to get Athrun up, was that by chance or was it planned?'(Shiloah 18)

She planned to make him get up, and he obeyed by chance. Does that answer your question? Or maybe I don't really understand the question heheh. X_X

15. 'Athrun's being a kid! but I guess that comes when it's Cagalli who is tending to him.. XD'(Shiloah 18)

That's right. He's cute that way. Suggestions?

16. 'The words Athrun said to Cagalli, I wonder if he had said the same thing to Lyra when he was thinking of Cagalli..'(Shiloah 18)

Well, he often fools himself into thinking that Lyra is Cagalli, so in that sense, he would have said the same thing to Lyra.

But you're supposed to infer that, I guess.

17. "If Athrun had long gotten over his shock of her barging in during his bath," during? he wasn't even stripping yet when she followed him..(Shiloah 18)

Depends what you consider the start of a bath I guess. For me, it's when I enter the bathroom with the intention of bathing. For you, it's apparently when you start undressing. Suggestions?

18. 'Did Athrun have uh.. s*x in the bathtub with Lyra? or was it with someone else? wait! don't answer that.. =_= (Shiloah18)

Lyra. And others. Many others. Many many others. I don't know. I never really thought about that. But now I will. Suggestions?

19. 'And last one, Mohammed as in the prophet Mohammed?' (Juveniliare)

Yes. It's a saying.

So if you have questions/ responses to the questions and answers, PM me and I'll try to reply yup! Now on with it!

Chapter 15

The cameras flashed in the hall, scattering light and the diamond dust of the newspaper tales to come. Photographs taken out of context would be gossip's glitter to the half-informed, and the media was restricted only by cordons and a nearly fifty body-guards.

Yet, the statements issued today would only set fire to the pre-laid gasoline of conspiracy theories. That gasoline's essence was Cagalli's disappearance and all she'd left behind, which was felt by Orb and even the international community.

Behind the cordon sat the Orb Proxy, Kira Yamato, the Permanent Secretary, Aaron Biliensky, and the Orb Princess' fiancée, James Marlin.

James Marlin, thirty-three with his roguish good looks, was exceptionally good-looking if one subscribed to the notion that brilliant men were often as aesthetically pleasing as semi-evolved apes. In other words, it had been pure inevitability that he charmed Orb as soon as he gave his first statement here. His success with Orb was swift, just as he had risen as a solicitor and then moved head-on into politics back home in Britannia.

Unlike his success with Britannia's attorney-general's chambers however, Marlin wanted, more than anything, to win the favour of Orb. For a man who had often watched the best fall into his lap, whether in jobs, money, power, looks, reputation and particularly women, his actual effort simply meant that he was guaranteed the Orb Council of Elders and basically, all of Orb's support. In fact, the Elders had been pretty welcome to the idea of him saying that he had been conducting a relationship with the Orb Head for two years now, just as Aaron had advised.

Now, he practised his camera-smile, not enjoying but not despising how easy it was for him to pander to the audience. The females in the room predictably swooned and the men muttered amongst themselves. The difference, Marlin reflected, was that if it had been any other situation, he would have merely looked back at them in private amusement. Here though, he wanted them to like him. If they did, they were more likely to believe him to be Cagalli Yula Atha's fiance.

"When you proposed to our noble Orb Princess," Orb reporter called out from the mass he was sitting amidst, "Did you consider that it would help her preserve her power?"

"Of course I considered that," Marlin conceded. "And at the same time, how does one think of such grim legal and social obligations the nobles and particularly the Orb Head owes to Orb when the Orb Princess is smiling and asking if the coffee is too sweet or if one would like biscuits to go with it."

The reporters were frantically scribbling everything he was saying. Marlin knew that they would be likely to romanticise this, for it had been what he was intending.

"Sir, can we take it that you were very close to her?" Another reporter hollered.

"You're inferring this from just the fact that she served me coffee and offered me biscuits?" Marlin said, with an eyebrow raised high. "Or is it a custom that one is in love with the waitress simply because she serves a drink?"

He hid the edge of his words with a smile, and the reporter coughed embarrassedly. The truth was that Marlin did not want to go into the details of a fabricated relationship, for that would only create trouble for both of them, especially when she returned.

"So sir, can we take it that you got along very well with the Orb Princess besides the fact that you had a working relationship with her, Haumea bless her?"

"Yes." He said simply, going straight for the pointed question. "Why else would I even think of asking Cagalli Yula Atha to marry me?"

The buzzing grew louder and Marlin rolled his eyes inwardly. Even media dogs would have their day.

"I speak for the foreign reporters in this room," One called from the middle section. Probably from America, Marlin supposed, with that hard-nosed accent of his. "We know that Orb is ready to storm Scandinavia if the Orb Princess does not return- Haumea bless her soul," The reporter added hastily, hearing the sounds of disapproval from the room at his initial omission. Those mutters of irritation at his rudeness welled the loudest from the Orb-correspondents' section. "And if Scandinavia gives no plausible explanation for her disappearance, of course. But what then, after that?"

Next to Marlin, Kira Yamato sat quietly, taciturn and unwilling to say anything that could be potentially used against him. He had learnt the hard way, Marlin supposed, since Kira Yamato had never been in politics and didn't know how to guard himself in that arena. Even as a reasonably intelligent if not brilliant general of a key division of Zaft, Kira had still been under a great deal of pressure from the questions thrown at him. The parliament had basically lobbed all the conspiracy theories in his face, asking him whether he was connected to their princess' disappearance.

In the last hour, they had rather rudely, accused Kira of arranging Cagalli's disappearance by getting together with Scandinavia. Kira had fielded that by replying that he had no need for power that he had no right to claim, but had cited his willingness to protect Orb for his sister's behalf.

Next, the parliament had debated on whether Cagalli Yula Atha ought to be written off as dead since there was no news of her or proof that she would return and not abdicate with the approaching year of marriage. In return, Kira had cited relevant legislation that Marlin had collected for him, and Marlin had played his role well, convincing the Parliament that he had long established a relationship with Cagalli. Kira had then proceeded to remind the Orb Parliament that the citizens would probably react adversely to the Parliament writing her out as if she were dead. Until the fixed time had passed, Orb could not react to Scandinavia's passive position.

Now, after the parliament had grilled Kira, these reporters were doing it too. Marlin fought back a sigh.

"If she is still not found, Haumea protect her," A French correspondent piped in with the suffix-like reference to Haumea that seemed to be plaguing Cagalli's name these days, "And she is presumed dead, then what next?"

"Then Orb will hold a referendum." Kira said steadily, leaning forward slightly as the microphone picked up his voice. It was amplified it across the conference hall in the sprawling grounds of the Orb parliament building- the extent of Cagalli's office, really. "In the case that Orb must declare Cagalli Yula Atha as dead or presumably dead, Orb will then decide for itself whether to accept the key Lyadov emir as the official Orb Head immediately, or more drastically, re-haul the existing electoral system and open it to sub-royal families or non-royal candidates such that another election can be arranged for."

The cameras shifted in waves towards him, and Kira fought back that strange tightening of his fists as he sat a little higher, staring at the mass of people before him.

The key Lyadov emir had been rather aggressive towards Kira Yamato, probably because the Lyadov emir had been expecting to attain the Orb Head's power. Marlin understood how upsetting it must have been to have a proxy from Plant and a key member of Zaft no less, suddenly drop in and smash that hope of the Lyadov House holding power for the first time in a few decades.

In the last hour, the Lyadov emir and the rest of the parliament had rather rudely accused Kira of arranging Cagalli's disappearance. Really, Marlin thought scathingly, relying on conspiracy theories to unnerve Kira Yamato had been both childish and low, particularly because Kira was making so many sacrifices by already being in Orb.

Thankfully, Kira had fielded the attacks that had been bordering on personal. He had replied that he had no need for power that he had no right to claim, since Orb would never accept him as more than a proxy. As a proxy however, he was independent from the current internal politics and thereby able to judge what was best for Orb in the current situation.

Next, the Parliament had debated on whether Cagalli Yula Atha ought to be written off as dead since there was no news of her or proof that she would return and not abdicate with the approaching year of marriage.

In return, Kira had cited relevant legislation that Marlin had collected for him. Moreover, Marlin had played his role well, convincing the Parliament that he had long established a relationship with Cagalli and that such a dutiful, responsible Head was well worth waiting for when there was no proof of her death yet. Kira had then proceeded to remind the Orb Parliament that the citizens would probably react adversely to the parliament writing her out as if she were dead, especially since her fiancé was still in Orb. The parliament had then been forced to admit that until the fixed time had passed, Orb could not react to Scandinavia's passive position.

Moreover, Kira's sincerity had been genuine, and the parliament had rather grudgingly admitted that when faced with the collectedness of Kira Yamato.

Given that Kira was not as well-versed as Cagalli in this field, Marlin was rather impressed by the quiet dignity that the man had shown. Cagalli's twin had that strange, boyish quality, and there was that sweetness to his features that made him look shy and even withdrawn, despite the age in his face and maturity of his frame. That inherent childlikeness now reminded Marlin of Cagalli. Just like his sister but for very different reasons, people tended to underestimate Kira.

Objectively, Marlin knew that Cagalli was often underestimated because she was female and very attractive despite how formidable and driven she really was. Men often did not know how to treat her in private- she might have been either a child or a woman. But Cagalli had gotten past that quite easily, since she was never anything except the Orb Head with most men.

Similarly, Kira was also often underestimated because he appeared as a boy-man, innocuous and almost forgettable in a crowd of rather boisterous, ambitious Zaft Generals. He had reportedly refused to be in charge of training Zaft's pilots, although no official reason was given. Most suspected that he did not want to be in the spotlight and under scrutiny the way football coaches often found themselves under. As the General in charge of defence and weapon technology, Kira seemed too young and too mild.

And yet, Marlin had heard from Aaron that Kira shared Cagalli's infamous temper, only that it was mostly unheard of, and even less predictable and even more lethal when Kira snapped. Apparently, Aaron knew quite a bit about Kira, although he was unwilling to tell Marlin anything about Cagalli's twin.

Still, from what Marlin observed of Kira, it suggested that while Cagalli had been forced to control and hone her temper in her profession, Kira seemed to have a natural control over himself. Marlin could differentiate the façade of calm that both twins carried almost immediately.

"The Orb Princess may have already followed most of the obligations concerning the royal duties she is expected to fulfil." Kira continued, basically summarising all he had said to the parliament. "But she has not gone through an official marriage or borne a child. In her absence, and if the situation calls for Orb to presume her dead, there is no representative of the Atha house to finish her term until the next election. If the key Lydaov emir had been in her situation, there would have been other emirs from that house or even representatives from the sub-noble families adjoined to that house. But the key Lyadov emir is not the Orb Head. The Orb Head is still Cagalli Yula Atha until she is presumed dead."

"Didn't the Orb Parliament consider the Britannian Premier as the next successor if the Orb Princess was presumed dead?" One reporter spoke up.

"I will answer that question on behalf of the Orb Parliament as a representative. It would not be fair to impose that responsibility on Premier Marlin, who is still ultimately serving Britannia and is not an Orb citizen." Aaron declared. "In any case, the Orb Princess' marrying and having a child would not necessarily mean that the Atha House would hold power indefinitely until its last descendent abdicates or is found unsuitable to lead Orb. The Lyadov House has always existed as a candidate during elections, and they have as much a right to enter the elections as the Atha, Sahaku and Seiran House. Even if the Atha House is considered extinct, as the other two are, the Lyadov House can still be elected and their key emir may be the Orb Head."

"But as I understand it," A starved, raw-skinned looking reporter stood up to ask, "The four great Orb Noble houses have dwindled over the years to the point of- as you have rightly described- extinction. The Sahakus will be considered extinct once Lady Sahaku, Haumea bless her and let her live for a thousand years, passes away. The main Seiran House also collapsed after the war's end, leaving the Lyadovs House to run in elections. If other nobles from sub-branches of these houses cannot run for these elections, wouldn't that meant that the Lyadov House has no competition if the Orb Princess, Haumea bless her and let her live for ten thousand years, is declared dead? "

"Exactly." The murmurs in the room grew louder. Some were shaking their heads and some were still scribbling.

"As you say, the Orb Head is elected from these four houses," Aaron Biliensky confirmed, looking at the reporters fearlessly. It was quite a change, Marlin marvelled. The slightly high-strung, fastidious man had transformed into this professional cool cat. "And the Orb Princess was the only and therefore key emir of the Atha house after the First and Second War. Nonetheless, after the Second War, she similarly ran against the key Lyadov emir and thus obtained the authority to head the Parliament after the Second War."

"If I remember correctly," A turquoise-haired, very well-polished female reporter from Plant said excitedly, "The princess won by a landslide number of votes. Political analysts say this had to do with the strength of character she showed by returning to Orb and seizing power from the perhaps misguided Head at that time- the key emir of the Seiran House, who was still her fiancé at that time. While she actually seized power by force, the fact that she already had support to make this possible, made Orb support her in the Second War's aftermath and the subsequent election."

Marlin was aware of all of this, but hearing it being recounted all over again made him wonder how Cagalli had managed to retain that air of likeability, that air of unassuming innocence about her.

"Since then," Another reporter from Switzerland spoke up, "She's won every bi-annual election, and is expected to continue doing so until she chooses not to serve Orb, which is also unlikely. The Lyadov House has had different candidates from the main branch of the noble family, but none have ever come close to beating her."

Yet another reporter from Indonesia stood up, speaking in a rapid-fire manner too.

"The rest of the nobles and the lesser noble families that branched off from the main four have been left scrambling for Parliament positions with none of them hoping to get that key seat the Orb Princess has. In other words, she is the most able candidate. Without her, doesn't that mean that a proper succession of leadership is unlikely even if the elections are brought forward?"

"That brings me to the dilemma the Orb Parliament faces. The succession of power is inevitable because someone must lead Orb. But putting someone else in that seat is only justified if the Orb Princess does not return by then." Aaron said sharply, gesturing for them to remain seated. The guards were looking anxious at the surge of enthusiasm from the media.

"As a parliament representative, I admit there would be technically has no competition for the Lyadov House. The Atha House would be extinct with the Orb Princess' presumed or actual death, Haumea protect her," Aaron added hastily, "But an option Orb can consider is introducing new competition into the election. This will be in the form of the sub-noble families that branched off from the main four, but that depends on the referendum that Proxy Yamato has spoken of. Orb may well pass power into the Lyadov representative, that is, their key Emir's hands. Of course, this is all dependent on what Orb thinks in the referendum."

The reporters began to speak loudly amongst themselves again, and Marlin felt as if he was a teacher watching rowdy children fight amongst themselves. Then one reporter stood up, raising his hand as he did, as if asking for permission to speak.

"This question is posed to the Britannian Premier or Prime Minister, fiancé of the Orb Princess, Haumea protect Her Grace and keep her eternally safe for ten thousand years." One reporter spoke up.

He was probably from Orb, Marlin supposed, hence the clear and slightly even obsessive respect towards Cagalli's name. As the hours had gone by, it seemed that the suffixes to Cagalli's title was the subject of a competition amongst the reporters. It was a 'who-can-use-Haumea-while-adressing-the-Orb-Princess-in-the-longest-most-awkward-adressment-ever' contest. And this reporter was definitely giving the others a run for their money.

"Why did you propose to the Orb Princess, Haumea protect her Grace and sustain her for a thousand years to come?" The Orb reporter said boldly.

The question posed to Marlin had not been unexpected, but actually hearing it from a reporter's lips made him want to snarl. In fact, he was waiting for a moment to bite, and thus he sat up slightly in the chair, looking less at ease than before.

Not noticing the change in Marlin, Prime Minister of Britannia's posture, the cameras flashed along with his smile. The media dogs were blind to his mistrust as he was to the cameras. And that was why he thought of this rehearsal, this smile, as his camera smile.

"Well, what do you think?" He shot back, almost casually.

Going through the grim discussion for three hours before this and having to deflect all the Orb Parliament's questions was one thing. Being asked about his feelings for the Orb Princess by people who had no business knowing whatsoever, was another.

"The Orb Princess, Haumea smile upon Her Grace and give her Haumea's fortune, holds a lot of power." One reporter said reverently.

Staring at him, Marlin realised that the camera crew behind that reporter was certainly not from Orb. Many of them weren't, in fact. So why this obsession with her title and the blessings they liberally sprinkled on her name? This bunch wasn't exactly from Orb and had none of the nationalistic sentiments the average Orb citizen would have. Or perhaps, had Cagalli impressed the whole world beyond Orb and made them respect her more than Marlin had known.

"You insult me," Marlin said a bit grimly. "The compatibility of our jobs and loyalties to our nations matter, but power was certainly not the point when I asked her to marry me."

"So what you're saying," A reporter was shouting where he was being pushed back, cordoned by police officers guarding the arena where Kira Yamato, James Marlin and Aaron Biliensky sat, "Is that the Orb Council of Elders approved of her plans to give you her hand?"

Really now, Marlin thought, what was there to ask when the Elders' pants had been charmed off by his recounts of the Orb Princess being cold to other men to signal that she had already held someone in mind? Hiding the lie within truth was a very important technique of politics, and Marlin was very good at politics.

"Yes," Aaron said swiftly for Marlin, answering in his efficient but unhurried manner. "That is the general law and code of conduct for any Orb noble's marriage, whether the Orb noble is from the four great Houses or a sub-royal family. For the Orb Princess, who is not just directly from the Atha House but its key emir and Orb Head, her husband had to be approved of by the Elders. If she had been unable to choose a man that the Elders approved of, she would have still been obliged to marry. The one she married would then be a man the Elders chose for her and deemed most suitable with her parents' or guardians' advice. If she had still chosen not to marry, she would have had to abdicate."

The law regarding Orb nobles from the four main noble houses stated that the Orb nobles needed to be wed to a suitable partner approved of by the Council of Elders by the twenty-seventh birthday. The Orb Head was no exception, except that the Orb Head would have had to abdicate in favour of the next most appropriate royal house if the Orb Head chose not to marry. Above and on top of that, the Orb head would also be obliged to bear a child, one who was 'reasonably suitable and likely' to succeed the throne. That very description was broad enough to cover about any heir, and sufficiently narrow for the Council of Elders and Parliament to reject an heir of a House as a possible candidate for reasons they would not have to disclose.

Marlin snorted privately. In fact, this clause of having a child through that mandatory marriage was actually more important than the actual marrying.

The rationale was a simple extension of the Orb political system, which had always been deemed a leading, progressive system- what seemed to be a perfectly-integrated system of partial democracy and a monarchy. If one person from one noble House had held all the power of Orb, the temptation of corruption would be stronger than anything else. It was common understanding that power corrupted and absolute power corrupted absolutely. The likelihood of the key leader becoming a dictator would then be quite high if there was no presence of anybody who could take over.

The point of having such an Act concerning the Orb nobles and in particular, the Orb Head, was to ensure that there were descendants. The Orb Head, that is, a potential dictator, needed to marry a suitable person. This person was probably equipped to lead Orb as well because that person would have to be of a calibre to gain the approval of the Elders. The power had to be shared at some point- the Orb Head would be unlikely to keep the power solely in his or her hands. And once a child came into the picture, the power couldn't be theirs forever. The position of the key Emir of that particular House would one day see another from the House taking it. Whether that new key Emir became the Orb Head depended on that Emir's performance in the elections.

"I would like some confirmation about the Council that approved of the Britannian Premier as the Orb Princess' fiancé and future husband. According to the Council of Elders Act," Another reporter chimed in, "Nobody who has less than ten years of experience with politics and law, or is not a direct noble from the four Houses can be elected by the non-constitutional members of Parliament into the Council of Elders. Nor can the Orb Head elect anyone into the Council of Elders for obvious reasons."

"That is correct." Aaron confirmed. "Also, the direct nobles elected into the Council of Elders must first give up their power and standing they yielded within their Houses. This ensures that they become independent of the Houses' inherent interests in the elections and the competing for the Orb Head's seat. At present, of the official number of twelve Elders, the representative and head is Lord Dieretriem, a former key Lyadov emir. Lady Sahaku, a former Orb Head, is also part of this council, as are many highly qualified judges who are experts in various legal areas and former chief justices of the Supreme Court of Orb. Because the Orb judicial system is removed from politics, they do not have to give up their privileges that the Orb nobles who join this council are expected to do. This council then advises the Orb Head and other Orb nobles of how best to perform the duties expected of them."

"As I understand," A reporter with what looked like the flag of Italy said loudly, "The advice is regarded so crucial to the point that it is often considered a binding precedent on nobles and the Orb Head. The power of dispensing that advice and expecting it to be followed has arguably been manifested in subsidiary legislation- such as the Orb Nobles Marriage Act and the section relevant to the Orb Head, who is the most important of the Orb Nobles. Surely, the Britannian Premier must gone through the scrutiny that is presumably integral to when the council decides whether the Orb Noble, let alone, the Orb Head, is choosing a worthy marriage partner. Sir, why did you propose in the first place?"

"I will leave the finer details to all those in this room who know the Orb Princess as both a person and as a leader." Marlin said firmly, looking at every face in there. "But as a person, you must know that she meant the world to me- the way she means the world to so many of the Orb people."

He stood up, ignoring the mutters in the room, and he began to pace before them. It was part pretence, part truth, and Marlin himself did not know which was which at that point. But hiding the lie within truth was a very important technique of politics, and Marlin was very good at politics. All he knew was that his pulse was throbbing and his voice was strident, adding to the effect he had wanted to create.

"As I was driven here this morning," He said to the room filled with cameras and faces he did not recognise. "I looked at the streets and saw Cagalli's people. I saw them hurrying to work, some spilling coffee on themselves when the bus jerked to a stop, and I saw mothers taking their children to school. Men were holding their newspapers, and some were, as you are now, debating what would happen to Orb. Surely-," He said, softening his voice, "my fiancée would have seen all this every morning, even before she entered her office. Surely, all she had wanted was to protect every man, woman and child in Orb, to give them the chance to live a life worth living."

Aaron stared at the Marlin's back, and quietly, he looked at Kira. Kira's head was bowed and Aaron could not decipher what both Cagalli's friend and twin were thinking. He too, could not decipher if Marlin was merely indulging in theatrics or speaking sincerely. But Aaron knew that did not matter, for if it could touch even him, it would surely make the reporters touched and in turn, write such that the readers would believe even more in the Orb Princess and refuse to have any other emir take power until she was presumed dead.

Marlin's voice grew into a magnificent crescendo as he continued with his rhetoric, and while the cameras continued filming, the camera men's were certainly eyes getting misty.

If all went well, Marlin calculated, he would be seeing himself on the telly during primetime tonight. Hopefully, there would be a nationwide shortage of tissues. Just to be sure, he continued at some length.

"If she were to be harmed, would she die blaming someone for causing her death? I think not. Would she have cried, not as a leader who lost power, but as a woman, as a mother, or even a lover, who watched a dear one being left behind while she was being taken away? Certainly. Would she die blaming herself for not being able to serve Orb, for being prevented from giving her last breath to Orb? Absolutely."

Suddenly, one of the reporters began to cry quietly, and a few began to join in.

Within minutes, the atmosphere had become a frazzled, tense one with more than half of the reporters looking either despondent or plain miserable, regardless of whether they were from Orb or not.

The Orb reporters were praying fervently to Haumea on their knees, the others joining in too or even praying to a whole plethora of various other gods and celestials. Marlin wondered if the gods had some kind of email system that was currently being flooded with the subject title 'Cagalli Yula Atha'. Even the less religious contended with blowing their noses.

And privately, Marlin was rather impressed at how these people thought so highly and so reverently of Cagalli. It was almost as if they worshipped her. It was clear that she was very loved, and now, he recalled what Aaron had told him.

In the car, along the way to the parliament house, Marlin had asked Aaron why Cagalli was known as the Orb Princess when there was technically no more monarchy to speak of. There was only a circle of the four great Houses and other circles of sub-houses branching from that main circle. Her father had certainly never been known as a king or prince, nor Lady Sahaku anything similar to that. In fact, those from the Atha, Sahaku, Seiran and Lyadov Houses were known as Lords and Ladies- common titles denoting their House identifies as conferred to them from birth. The Orb Head had the privilege of having his or her first name featured such as Lord Uzumi. So why had a title of 'princess' been conferred to Cagalli and used so liberally even in the international community when it was in fact, unofficial even in Orb?

"Well, think about it." Aaron had said snippily, pointing out of the car's windows to the gigantic screens in the town square. Those for weeks now, had been showing footage of Cagalli smiling and waving from some heavily-guarded vehicle. "People find mascots important for promoting a cause, no?"

"Like Mickey Mouse?" Marlin had supplied helpfully, staring at a nearby screen mounted on a desperately tall skyscraper. Cagalli's smile was radiant, and she looked like a goddess, staring into the distance into what must have been the camera at that time.

"Not that, you idiot!" Aaron had snapped, confirming Marlin's suspicions that Aaron was the only living person who remained uncharmed by him. Even the stonefish-like Kira Yamato was more receptive to Marlin. "I mean like, Betty Boop, pin-ups girls, that idiotic looking milkmaid for those dairy chocolates-,"

He interrupted himself with a negligent little wave of his hand, turning back to the footage of Cagalli on the screens as the car zoomed by. "Oh forget it- comparing Orb's living icon to those two-dimensional tarts would be like displaying Ming vases next to my attempts to build a Lego castle."

"You came up with those examples yourself." Marlin had pointed out.

"You made me!" Aaron had exclaimed huffily.

"I get your point." Marlin had said hurriedly. "But I don't get it."

"Think about it, you stupid schmuck," Aaron had huffed again, shifting in the car. "Imagine the average Orb citizen- one who is rather wealthy and jaded mind you, because that's how they come these days. And imagine how interested they'd be in politics if it didn't concern their rice bowls. Even with any relevant social issue, they wouldn't give a hoot as long as the word 'inflation' and 'recession' wasn't in it."

"But the average Orb citizen is one of the most politically-interested and nationalistic compared to the average Earth Alliance citizen or even the Plant citizen." Marlin had said in surprise. "After the Second War, anyway. The Plant Coordinators got tired of speeches about their rights to live when their economy was apparently in a major doldrum. Even the Earth Alliance citizens got tired of the rhetoric about motherland, clean and blue, and all that waffle when they had no jobs and were starving."

"My point precisely." Aaron had told him. "This miracle happened after the Second War. And that miracle goes by the name of someone you've been introducing as your fiancée for more than a week now. Did you think she liked being addressed as the Orb Princess?"

Aaron had snorted then, interrupting himself, and Marlin stared at the fiercely-protective personal assistant to the Orb Princess. "Let me tell you something, Premier. She's been called many variations of Princess. She's been called the Amber Princess, the Golden Princess, Haumea's child, the Sable Lady, the Lioness of Orb- that sort of thing that newspapers somehow love, which-," He shrugged, "She really hates."

"Why?" Marlin had wondered.

"Because it sissified her, she complained to me once." Aaron's answer had been swift and curt. "Except the Lioness of Orb title- I think she's secretly okay with that although she insists that calling a spade a spade and an Orb Head and Orb Head, is what the world should do. She doesn't want to be known as a princess. But that's exactly what Orb and the world wants- they are in love with that image of a delicate, precious princess who at the end of the day, is really worth more than a few men put together."

Smiling privately now, Marlin looked at the people before him.

Cagalli Yula Atha had started being noticed after the First War, but she had certainly been thrust into the spotlight during and after the Second War. She had once been described to be what Lacus Clyne was to Plant- a princess. But in her context, Cagalli was of nobility and even more aptly addressed as such. Marlin could imagine how the average Orb citizen would have felt when the face of politics had been Cagalli Yula Atha's. It was almost a fairy-tale.

A young, attractive girl, beautiful to the point that it might have worked against her, taking the lead and all the power in Orb. A young, attractive woman-child who had the guts of a man and the strength of a lion, pulling Orb from the abysses of the ruined economic depression it had sunk into at the hands of its previous Seiran leader. The Orb Princess with her golden hair and eyes- light for her people. No wonder the interest in the national politics after Cagalli Yula Atha had become the Orb Head. If Marlin had guessed correctly, her personal advisors would have played on this appeal, even though he was quite sure Cagalli did not like it.

Whatever the case, the room was filled with people who worshipped her, whether they were from Orb or not.

"If there are no more questions," Aaron said firmly, "We will take our leave."

He stood up, as did Kira, and Marlin began to walk with them towards the door. Clearly, they were tired of this, and Marlin was sure Aaron would berate him for leading the media into hysterics. Of course, this would be moot, for Aaron knew that Marlin was right. Kira would probably remain quiet throughout everything, Marlin supposed.

"Wait, sirs! I have one last question!"

The three men turned around. The others in the room dried their tears hastily enough and focused on the reporter who had been significantly less affected to be able to pose a question mostly coherently.

"With all due respect to the Britannian Premier, why did the Orb Princess choose you?" A reporter queried. "She was known to be selfless in her desire to serve Orb- even to the point where she declared she would never marry because she had no time for anything else with even the smallest, most insignificant child to think of in Orb."

Aaron frowned slightly, knowing that quote had been taken out of context. Cagalli had certainly declared she would never get married once, but that had been out of irritation and frustration at being buggered by the reporters who had wanted to know why she refused so many potential suitors. But in this case, the reporter's quoting out of context was to their advantage.

Marlin cast his eye towards the reporters once more, subconsciously counting the number of heads.

If it had been someone less appealing, someone less capable, someone any less than Cagalli Yula Atha, whose heritage was of Uzumi Nara Atha's and whose innocence and purity belied her clout and strength, Marlin would have seen less than half the number of reporters in the room, let alone a whole hall of worshippers bemoaning the possible fate of the Orb Princess.

"Yes," Marlin said smoothly, strolling back to his seat with just the right amount of heartache in his face. "She often said that to me. She often reminded me that her husband would be second to Orb, but that may have been in jest."

Aaron fought back the urge to glare.

In Aaron's opinion, Marlin seemed the sort who would twist people around his finger a little too much. After all, he was already working up the reporters more than Aaron or Kira would ever hope of doing, and Aaron was a bit afraid that the public would expect too much from Cagalli with regards Marlin now.

While Aaron knew exactly what Marlin was doing and thought it was mostly good, Aaron certainly did not want the public to like Marlin too much. If Cagalli returned and found out that the public was deeply in love with Marlin and thereby expected her to be as well, she would throttle Aaron. Frowning slightly, Aaron turned to Kira, wondering if Marlin would lose control of himself and indulge in the moment a little too much

Kira Yamato also looked a bit tense. They had already discussed this amongst themselves, and they had agreed that it was suicidal to go into the finer details of a faked engagement. Going too deeply into it would make it more difficult for Cagalli to write it off when she returned, assuming she did return and did not want to marry Marlin.

The public would grow too heady and expectant on her return and a subsequent marriage, and they would not accept it if she pulled out of a marriage that had been highly hyped-up. At the same time, Marlin could not skim over it when the plot was to ensure the Orb Parliament did not write her out of the picture on the basis that she would have refused marriage and abdicated anyway. Skimming over it would have been akin to admitting that it was a lie.

Either way, Aaron thought frustratedly, involved a cliff, oceans and sharks surrounding them. The only lifeboat here was Marlin, and Aaron prayed Marlin wouldn't turn out to be a leaky boat either. The reporters were still clamouring for an answer, well charmed by Marlin already.

"Why you, sir?"

"Tell us!"

"Why?"

Like flocks of crows, they circled at a distance, kept back only by the demarcated boundaries.

Marlin merely smiled again, his voice sonorous to signal the finality of his words. "Because we love each other, that's why."

There was a swell of sound and the cameras went wild again.

More than a thousand miles away, Cagalli stood at the foot of Athrun's bed, unaware of the new events beyond the Isle.

For the whole day, she had not seen Athrun; that is until he had abruptly appeared in the dining room for dinner. Despite her secret wish that they could have their meal outdoors under the sky, the air was growing colder now, and dinner would have to be indoors.

During that dinner, her efforts to be warmer towards him had been mostly pointless, for he did not reciprocate. While Cagalli could sense that he was appreciative of those efforts still, he did not seem to want any kind of particular attention from her.

Up until now, Cagalli was wondering if Athrun was trying to make up for that time when he had shown her so much weakness. Cheeks scarlet, all Cagalli could think of was that at least nobody else had been in the hall.

It was strange, that resistance and attraction within him when she had tried to make him comfortable. When she had poured a drink for him, he accepted it graciously. When she saw that the maids had left, she had reached for his hand, touching it lightly, but he had snatched it away so tensely that she flinched too. After his meal, Athrun had left for his room quietly, and she watched him from where she was sitting, hoping against hope that he would give her a sign.

Yet, he didn't brush his fingers against hers, despite her leaving many chances for him when she had sat next to him at the table. Nor did he spare her a glance as a subtle invitation for her to follow. There would certainly be little chance for her to approach him privately, and Cagalli had been quite sure that Athrun would retreat back to his room and rest. Besides, Epstein had been watching them like a hawk, and Cagalli had felt rather uncomfortable at what Epstein must have been thinking.

Unlike Epstein, she did not know what Athrun was thinking at all.

What she did know however, was good enough to make her do what she proceeded to. She had returned to her room after dinner, took a bath to calm herself, wrapped a robe around, and then picked at the lock to the passage from her room, and entered his.

And when she could finally voice out what she wanted, Cagalli knew he had long predicted it.

While Athrun had half-sat, half-laid in bed, resting with his bandaged arm and his hair fanned out over the white pillow in that strange beautiful shade of midnight, Cagalli had thought he looked almost like a woman. Bearing testimony to his bareness beneath the sheets and his apparent vulnerability was the bathrobe, which had been draped over a chair. He seemed to be seeking refuge under the sheets, but the coldness of his gaze and the sureness of his expression told otherwise.

But since his skin was almost as pale as the sheets, and because those were covering him, save for his collarbone and his arms, Athrun looked painfully delicate. If one did not see how muscular and sinewy his arms and chest were, his soft if slightly thin lips and the well-defined jaw were the only sign of his masculinity. To a faraway observer, one would have thought he appeared as unsure and dazed as a young woman waking from her first experience with a man. But ironically enough, this was not the case. As Rune Estragon, Cagalli was sure Athrun would have been able to take the worst devil as his servant. The hardness of his mouth and the steel in his eyes were indeed proof of that.

Naturally, she was the one quaking under her bathrobe as she stood at the foot of his bed. Cagalli was rather unsettled by Athrun, for in her eyes, he would have seemed to be the woman and she the man who dominated. Yet, Athrun was clearly not a simple person. And if he allowed himself to be dominated, Cagalli knew that was only because he wanted to be and not because anyone merely could.

Her hair was mostly dried but damp enough for tendrils of water to snake their way down her neck and shoulders, his eyes not leaving her face.

"I want to send a letter back to Orb. To Kira." She said this after a pause, her voice shaking with the tiny tremor of fear that was still unmistakable.

His eyes narrowed, and those did not show surprise or shock. He looked almost triumphant, as if he'd known of this all along. And as Cagalli looked at Athrun, holding her breath, she knew he must have predicted that she would want to contact someone back in Orb.

After all, she had struck a deal that allowed her to confirm what she had feared, and naturally, her next deal would be to work from the Isle to prevent a catastrophe from occurring. She wet her lips, hoping to remain calm. "Of course, I'll pay you whatever you want as long as it's fair and proportionate to what you're giving.

"No." Athrun said simply, without even bothering to shift. His voice was without any clear disapproval, as if she'd asked for something inane like whether he was wealthy or not.

He eased an arm over to the little bedside table and took a book, flipping it casually and almost even good-naturedly to the bookmarked page.

'Emmanuel Kant: Ethical Deontology,' Cagalli read silently from its cover. She berated herself instantly for getting distracted when Athrun had probably planned it, then quickly focused back on her captor.

"But Athrun," Cagalli wheedled, putting a more pleading tone into her voice as she stood at the foot of his rather large bed. "I don't see why you can't let me-,"

"I said no." Athrun repeated courteously, almost like a father who used the law of parenthood and its privileges to ignore a child's appeals for a plastic toy. Being Uzumi Nara Atha's child had long made Cagalli aware that refusal did not have to come with explanation. But she insisted with Athrun now.

"That's not being fair." Cagalli said, upset at how lazily he was reading. Without really responding, he made a slight sound, a hand reaching over again to fetch a pair of glasses without his eyes even leaving the page. He slid on the glasses, adjusting it with a finger that pushed at the nose-bridge, and Cagalli glared at him. "You need to give me an explanation at least."

"Well, the thing is," He said, finally looking up from where he was in bed. Emmanuel Kant apparently, was more interesting than her, it seemed. "You don't have anything of any value left to offer."

She stared, stung and insulted by what he said. If he had jeered and taunted her, Cagalli would have felt slightly more equipped to lash back. But as it was, Athrun seemed to be stating facts- facts that she had established by lying to him and telling him that she had an ongoing relationship with another man that the Orb Council of Elders had long approved of.

His expression softened slightly, although the glint of his glasses hid it and the book was soon covering his face again. "I suppose I might have said that any more between us would be far too dangerous."

"I don't really need you to be less harsh." She said in a low voice. "I just need you to see that I can please you if you let me."

Cagalli stepped forward boldly, sliding into the bed and taking his book irreverently. She tossed it to the floor, ignoring his little grunt of protest as she slid her arms over his shoulders and forced him to lie down completely. As she did, Cagalli craftily reached to his glasses and took them off, bending over him to put them at the table. His body's contact with hers gave lesser warmth than she expected from his bare skin beneath the sheets, and Cagalli wondered if her robe was preventing her from absorbing that heat.

Athrun however, tried shifting away. As she clung to him, the hair she had pinned up tumbled down, giving way completely now. It was evocative of light, and he kept his eyes open, wanting to be blinded, wanting her to blind him.

Mere hours ago, Epstein had entered Athrun's study and handed him the reports that he had asked for.

Article after article from tabloids and established papers alike, from Orb and almost every other country that had a press. A common thread ran through all- James Marlin.

"Do you think he loves her?" Epstein had asked in a hushed voice.

Athrun's answer had been grim. "He's either a man in love or a very good actor."

Marlin was certainly in love with Cagalli, from what Athrun had seen of the most recent reports pertaining to the existing engagement. A besotted man could be spotted a mile away by one of his own kind, and Marlin's statements had been explicit in his intention to find Cagalli and marry her.

And from what Athrun had understood so far, Cagalli may or may not have been in love with Marlin, but she must have bewitched Marlin without meaning to. Her temper was infamous, although this was mostly not commented on, thanks to her spokesperson's control of the media. And she was undoubtedly rash and acerbic, even abrasive outside the office; that was certain for people who knew her privately.

To cap it all off, Cagalli was reputed to be highly disinterested in any one man- or men in general. The pictures were proof of that- she was escorted by a different one to every different event. She looked charmed by none, except the pictures where Marlin appeared with her. Those had been featured extensively by the newspapers in line with his statements.

From the looks of it, Athrun thought soberly, Marlin had fared the best. And there was only so much a man would have done for a friend. The trouble that Marlin was putting himself through was certainly not possible if Cagalli had been anything less than his lover and prospective wife. The real question was, did Cagalli love this man?

Athrun recalled Marlin's face and had to admit that he was certainly a looker- the sort who was immensely and frighteningly likeable. In fact, all the articles had been written in an incredibly, almost unbelievably flattering light for Marlin, who had been depicted as a brave, sorrowful warrior and not some scheming power-grubber as he might have been very easily written off by a protective and nationalistic Orb media.

There was still doubt in Athrun's mind. If she loved another man, why could would she not tell Athrun directly, but claim that it was merely part of her duties? And even if she loved Marlin, would she go as far as to simply marry just to keep Orb safe for her father and for herself? Was she so dependant on holding her current power to uphold the memory of her father, and so hungry for more power that she would do that? Or was Orb under some devastating threat that it needed Britannia's power at all costs?

It made no sense in the last case. Orb was more than safe. It had reinstated itself as a mega-power under Cagalli Yula Atha, and its military and deterrent power rivalled Plant's. The Earth Alliance had recently entrusted some of its colonies to Orb, and Orb was expanding. Under her, Orb wasn't just an economic superpower. There was something clearly more openly aggressive than it had been before. While it still advocated self-containment and self-sufficiency where its political views were concerned, every Coordinator and Natural knew it had enough military power to rival even the Earth Alliance and Plant combined.

At this point, he turned away from Cagalli, ending the gaze they had both held when she'd removed his glasses. Their silent battle of wills was coming to a close.

"If only you knew why people love you." Athrun said softly.

She stared at him.

Everyone admired the Orb government and its head. The Orb government was made of some of the most intelligent, talented people with a good mix of Coordinators and Naturals to keep the harmony within Orb. Athrun knew for a fact that many top thinkers from both Plant and the Earth Alliance had emigrated to Orb because it was blind to heritage.

Their current leader was more formidable than any other Orb had seen. She was made of steel, even reports outside Orb claimed. She was capable of anything, and she would never break, only flourish with every year. There were legendary stories of Cagalli Yula Atha taking on foreign representatives who had come to negotiate with Orb. Every deal she sealed was in Orb's favour.

And beyond that, there was an enigma surrounding her that nobody could explain- the warmth and vitality that was exposed to the public each time she appeared. She was very beautiful as well- that was often said of the Orb Princess, and so many outside Orb admired her as much as the Orb people. The ability to appeal to the youngest child and to the oldest person in Orb had been missing in her father, who had often gained his power from those who had influence over Orb in the first place. And for that, her people loved her more than any other.

"What makes you think that I don't why?" Cagalli asked uncomfortably.

"The way you conform to their expectations," Athrun answered numbly. "The way you're afraid that not doing so would make Orb's people love you less."

It was exceedingly clear to Athrun that Cagalli wasn't her own person. To her, what she was doing was only an extension of what her father had deemed necessary for her to complete. Moreover, Cagalli simply did not realise that she had long stepped out of Lord Atha's shadow and become more formidable than Orb's revered and martyred former leader.

"It is true though," Cagalli argued. "That I want to do all I can for Orb. Orb is part of me, and I need to ensure it's safe."

Frustration flooded into him as he watched her, although Athrun was careful not to show it. He had not right to say this was all untrue.

Yet, he knew, instinctively, that Cagalli desired to be near him whether Orb existed or not. This had little to do with pride- it was a case of a man with a phantom arm being presented with the same arm that he'd lost. When he'd seen her again, standing on the deck the night he'd taken her back to the Isle, he had recognised what he had been missing for so long. And even now, as she stared at him, her eyes and hair like light and her lips moist, he knew they were meant to hold each other, meant to embrace and crush each other in passion and destroy each other if that was the only way they could touch with all the feeling in them

"What would your fiancé say?" Athrun said tensely, pulling her hand away but holding it in his.

Now Cagalli reached to him and touched his cheek lightly with her finger. What would he give, he thought sadly, to have her tell him that she wanted to stay by his side.

She flushed, lowering her eyes, her voice defensive. "Leave him out of this."

Was this karma? To have the only woman he'd ever truly loved lie by his side but not love him back was a nice, sound bite in his posterior. He was made to behave like a beast, taking from her even though he had no real consent; knowing that she was another man's.

"It's still a very sound political move to marry James Marlin," Athrun had admitted to Epstein earlier, "Even if she may not necessarily want to marry him out of love."

It had been quite unnecessary for the papers to report the Council of Elder's representative's statement with regards to James Marlin. One objective look at Marlin told Athrun that the average Orb noble, the Parliament, let alone the average street urchin would surely approve of James Marlin. Orb had never had an alliance with Britannia, despite that empire being quite formidable both economically and politically.

In fact, in the years that had passed after the Second War, all that remained for Orb to take on had really been Britannia. Even parts of the Earth Alliance had been ceded to Orb, but not a single territory under the Britannian Empire. It made sense for Orb to want a finger in that pie too.

"Do you think she had a choice?" Epstein had asked then.

"Yes in that she could choose as long as the Elders approved." Athrun had answered diffidently. "No, if you consider that she still had to marry and that person would have to be approved of by people who wouldn't even be sharing the bed."

The laws and traditions of the Orb Council of Elders had been the most important factor in this. Marlin, as Cagalli had told him, had simply been the most suitable candidate, whether or not she wanted to marry.

"You have to admire the laws pertaining to the Orb Royal families." Epstein had sighed. "Those who had set the system up were possibly the most cunning, forward-looking politicians and monarchs."

Athrun had thoroughly agreed.

At present, he contended with watching Cagalli- the result of the system and the wills of those before her. Those in their graves would always haunt her if Cagalli decided that they were alive enough for her to have to obey. Certainly, her face was troubled, mirroring his thoughts. He kept his as a blank slate, willing himself to be still.

"What are you thinking about?" She whispered, trying to read him when really, attempting to read herself may have been a greater challenge.

So Athrun remained silent.

And frowning a little at his lack of response but not understanding the thoughts in his mind, Cagalli stroked his fringe away from his eyes and drew her mouth to his slowly. He did not resist and she ignored how he was watching her quietly and warily, like an animal that was about to bolt. So she kissed him deeply, parting his lips to explore, liking how clean he tasted.

There was an intoxicating simplicity of naturalness- how comfortable Athrun was even in only his bare skin beneath these sheets, how his aftershave lingered on his flesh as he bent back, letting her press him down. It was exceedingly clear that Athrun was really calling the shots here. He was more cunning, more experienced, and she suspected he knew what she really felt for him.

Despite how weak and vulnerable he looked with his body covered by the sheets, he was no insecure, weak-willed girl who was being cajoled into the bed. As he laid there patiently, waiting for her to finish and grow tired with his obliging, almost good-natured response, she was reminded of a well-behaved child accepting detested vegetables without complaint but only apathy. And it occurred to Cagalli that with his control and with his firmness, he was really the one invading her.

Disgruntled, she drew away slightly although she was still pinning him down, only the sheets and her bathrobe between their flesh.

"Why don't you respond?" Cagalli demanded, her cheeks flushing. "Am I so unappealing that you don't even feel tempted to agree to what I asked of you? Is my kissing so amateur that you'd just lie there and ignore me?"

Almost benevolently, he smiled, mocking her. "I pity you, Cagalli. For all your cleverness and your said experience, you are rather uninformed when it comes to these matters."

"Uninformed?" Cagalli exclaimed, half in shock, half in fear that he had somehow found out that she had been lying to him all this while. Athrun, she knew, would not take kindly to her lying to him, and less so when she had known to make him jealous enough to accept contracts with her. "How so?"

He smiled lightly again. "An informed person would certainly know when another was interested."

"Damn it, Athrun, you keep leading me on and then being all nutty again- how am I to respond to you?" Cagalli said, frustrated.

He sat up, pushing her off as a result, although he soon pulled her closer and stared down at her. His arm injury was almost healed, but Cagalli realized that even a more serious injury would have been negligible where his will was concerned.

"Let's get some things straight here, and don't you dare argue with me," Athrun warned as she began to protest, "Or I'll ban your visits to the garden, which Epstein tells me you've grown quite attached to."

" 'Kay," She eeped, a bit scared by the flash of irritation she saw in his eyes and the way his wound seemed irrelevant by how firmly he was gripping her elbows.

"One," Athrun said clearly, "I am not leading you on and then blowing you off. If anything, you are doing that to me. I, on the other hand, am trying not to be stupid and allow situations whereby I'd slit my throat if you asked me to. And don't tell me you didn't think of leading me into that situation- I know better than you with what you're up to."

Her eyes widened, and Cagalli began to try and shake herself out of his grip, but he only sat up more, the sheets falling to his waist as he glared at her. "Two, I don't care if you use your wiles against me, Cagalli, since I'm obviously susceptible to it."

"Susceptible?" Cagalli said unsurely, not understanding. "You mean you're affected by me?"

Quite straighforwardly, Athrun told her the truth, raising an eyebrow. "If you want me to spell it out, I don't see why I shouldn't. We aren't blushing youngsters anymore, and pretending to be would be childish."

She sputtered a little, blushing even though she did not want to. On the other hand, Athrun continued without batting an eyelid, as if he was informing her of the weather.

"Obviously, I would like to snog you senseless- which you often let me anyway. Obviously, I would like to hold you in my arms- which you've allowed me to do. Obviously I would like to do more. I'd like to have you in my bed properly, and I'd like to have you letting me make love to you."

"What-," Her voice was telling of her surprise at his openness and the candor she could never give him. He had said all this simply, almost confessional, but with that wryness that made everything almost apathetic and even a matter of fact and not passion. Her voice was failing her. "Wha-,"

He shook his head, silencing her, and he grabbed one of her hands, moving it to his thigh where she could feel his arousal below the thin sheets.

His face showed no expression, and his voice was steady and almost matter-of-factly. "Do you understand how susceptible I am to you?"

Heat blossoming over her face again, Cagalli stared at him, and even when he let go of her hand, she had to shake herself to her senses before she brought the hand slowly to his shoulder, shifting closer to him, not looking away from his intent gaze now.

Screw Kant and his ethical theories and preaching about how intention justified the eventual act. Her act would justify all, because it was for Orb's good. Never mind that her heart ached badly enough for her to want to give in; never mind that being near Athrun made her feel human again with all the flaws of fallibility; never mind that with Athrun, she wanted to hold his face in her hands and place her forehead against his to understand him.

Cagalli spoke carefully, wondering how to deal with such situations. "Well, I'm glad to hear that. I could offer you-,"

"I haven't finished," He spoke sharply, cutting her off. "As I was saying, I don't care that you know how to make me want you. It's the truth that I want you, whether you make use of me or not. But I care," Athrun said through gritted teeth. "That you're using yourself in a stupid way to get out of here when all you have to do is wait."

"You don't understand," Cagalli said desperately, "If Orb isn't safe, I-,"

"I said, don't argue with me." Athrun shook her by her shoulders, frowning. Cagalli stared mutely at him, still very near him, struck by what he'd said and how her pulse was still thundering away.

"Three, you've established that you have an ongoing relationship with the Britannian Premier," His tone became a little less unreadable as a note of bitterness wrenched its way in. "But that doesn't mean you can easily tempt me into doing stupid things for you. Of course, it's pointless lying that I'm not jealous of your fiancé."

Heart beating in her throat and ears, Cagalli stared at him. "Athrun-, you,"

He smiled wryly, acknowledging what he had said with a careless little shrug. "It's true that I have a terrible urge to leave the Isle and track down the Britannian Premier. I'd like to strangle him with my bare hands, and I suppose the obviousness of that makes it pointless trying to hide it from you."

Privately, Cagalli chose not to tell Athrun that no, she hadn't known he was this upset with her supposed-engagement with Marlin. If she could use it later, she would. For now, she wanted to unearth the source of his dislike for Marlin. In fact, Cagalli was quite curious as to how jealous she had made Athrun of Marlin.

"But why should you dislike him when he hasn't done anything to offend you?" Cagalli persisted, placing her hands on his shoulders even when Athrun was now holding her by the elbows. "He's a good man, really he is, and everyone in Orb trusts him."

Athrun only looked at her with an irritated shake of his head. "I'm not blind or an imbecile, Cagalli. I can read the reports myself, and trust me; I've been reading about his relationship with you in greater detail than what my molars can bear."

Her mouth fell open. "What did you say?"

"I said," Athrun said darkly, "He's been busy telling the world about your relationship with him, and that includes the full blow-by-blow of how you met, what kind of biscuits you liked, whether you were pressed into marrying him by the Council of Elders- all of that."

He looked away, grimacing. "And come to think of it, I never even knew you liked orange-rind biscuits."

Cagalli bit back the retort that she did not really, and Marlin had made that up because those were the first biscuits he had probably thought of. Instead, she looked at Athrun intently. "Why are you jealous of him?"

"Well, what do you think?" He said, nonplussed. "Never mind that he looks like a Greek God and that anybody would kiss his feet if he asked for it. Including you," He added curtly, and she had to bite back her retort.

"It's more of the matter that I want to strangle him personally for the sole reason that he will have you when I can't." Athrun concluded soberly.

She gaped, and he ignored her.

"But my deepest, darkest desires to shoot him doesn't mean I'd do anything for you. Of course, your fiancé still got me bristling with the killer line- that he loves you more than Britannia and you love him more than Orb."

She was stunned at the incredulity of it all- that Marlin had said such a thing and that the world and even Athrun Zala, cool, skeptical and very rational, would believe it. "Good god, he said-,"

"Fine, fine" He interjected grumpily in a strange show of childish pique. "I admit I made up the last bit, but that's essentially everything his statements were gearing towards. The whole room of reporters were weeping by the time he was done with them."

She had to laugh, despite the severity of the situation. She laughed and laughed, and tears fell from her eyes because it was all so ridiculous. By this time, Athrun had let go of her elbows and had circled his hands around her waist. His touch was no longer a grip, but was tender and playful even.

Liking how secure she felt, enjoying how natural they could be with each other in spite of how pathetic they all were in reality, Cagalli bent forward, trying to kiss him this time, intent on making him respond. But he shook his head, effectually telling her that he was being dead serious now, warning her not to distract him.

"And that brings me back to the issue. " Athrun concluded, "There's no point you playing with danger and putting so much at stake. You don't have what it takes to not get emotionally involved, Cagalli. You're better off digging a tunnel into the ground in hopes of escaping than trying to use the obvious attraction I feel towards you against me. You're hurting yourself."

His expression turned a bit wistful as he brought her closer to him, and then transferred a hand to run it through her slightly damp hair, measuring its length. "The days when I did everything in hopes of earning your heart may well and truly be over. I've settled for less since then."

He stared at her, his mouth hardening and both his hands tighter on her elbows again. His allowance of a less grim less serious atmosphere was no longer present, and Cagalli realize that his face and voice were both pained. "And so should you."

Cagalli drew in a deep breath, bringing her hands away from his shoulders to hers, where she undid the bathrobe such that it fell to her waist, making her equal with Athrun where vulnerability was concerned.

He stared at her, and unafraid this time, she looked boldly back at him.

"We both settled for at least this." She reminded him, taking his hand from her waist and placing it on her collarbone. "And your taking more wouldn't mean I am giving more than what I can offer."

He studied her. "You're not going to let me have some peace if I don't hear you out, I assume?"

"That's right." Cagalli confirmed, shifting slightly against him. "And I think I know enough to say that if we start cold-shouldering each other, just like when I was first brought here, we're both going to be very irritable people who can't function."

He smiled slightly, and caressed her cheek, looking almost sad but with that wariness that masked any other clear emotion.

If only Cagalli knew the extent of truth that lay in what she had just said, Athrun thought wryly. "Then what are you offering if I let you send that letter?"

"That depends on what you want." Cagalli said confidently- more confidently than she felt. She was no longer the child who had stammered in front of her father ad begged him to let her go to school with other children, Cagalli told herself fiercely, and she could do this- she could make Athrun listen and let her do what she needed to do.

"I don't know." Athrun said honestly and a bit ruefully. "I haven't thought of it. I've already gotten a personally approved Orb citizenship to further my businesses, a kiss and your company at night. I'm not sure what else to take."

"You can always think of it as a blank cheque," She answered in a low voice. "Once I actually send the letter, you can come and claim what you want."

"Alright." He agreed softly, laying her down now on her side and sliding down to kiss her neck. She closed her eyes, enjoying his touch, knowing she was not meant to, knowing she was not supposed to, and enjoying it all the more for that. "But you need to ensure that Kira won't reject it as a fake. Even the official seal of Orb wouldn't convince the random person on the street that it was from you."

"I know." Cagalli said confidently. "I can handle that. I have an insignia that only I know of, and the only seal that exists is locked away in the safe back in my house, in Orb. But I know it well enough to draw it out again."

He studied her. "I suppose I could recreate it if you drew an accurate depiction of that insignia. I'm guessing it isn't the one with a lion and the flower?"

"No." She shook her head, looking a bit wary. "It's far more complicated than that, but I know it like the back of my hand. I'll draw it soon, and then you can make me a seal that I'll use to certify that the letter is from me."

"That's not all. You do know that I can't allow you to write whatever you would try to write in there, don't you?" Athrun spoke.

She felt his lips around her collarbone, and blinked once, but settled into the darkness of her closed eyes again. Her arms found their way around his shoulders. "I know. I'm fine with that. I just need to reassure Kira, Lacus and-, Her voice paused a little, "James- that I'm fine."

His breath warmed her cool skin, and she could feel Athrun nuzzle against her. His voice however, was not as gentle as his touch, and she shivered, knowing how he was trying to control the emotions in it.

"James." He said softly, in something of a whisper. "You call him Jimmy at times, don't you?"

"A nickname." Cagalli admitted, not daring to open her eyes, like an ostrich trying to hide its face in the sand and hoping it would not be seen because it could not see anyone.

"How quaint." He said dryly, moving above her as he brushed his lips against her shoulder. A roaring pain was erupting in his shoulder, not so much physical, but emotional, because Athrun could recall how gently Cagalli had touched him, how carefully she had tended to his wound even in his fever and delirium. Did she even register how fervently he whispered and called her his bonfire, his little wildcat, his Golden even in his dreams? Or was all that nothing to her when Marlin was her own lover, the Jimmy she trusted to catch her when she fell?

"Don't mock me." Cagalli warned. "You have no right to comment on what he and I share. I respect him deeply, and I will not have you at his throat when he can't defend himself here."

"True." Athrun conceded, not sensing the real motivation for her reluctance to talk about Marlin. "And when do you need this letter sent to reassure him that you're still alive and thinking fond thoughts of him?"

"As soon as possible." She told him, without opening her eyes. She was afraid to see the hurt that must have been in them. His sardonic tone had certainly been to remind himself that she belonged to another, but Cagalli too, was hurt by his efforts not to care about her personal life.

It had been simple, she now thought to herself, feeling him rest against her. No matter how he steeled himself, no matter how strong his will was, Athrun's wound had made it very clear that he was human. And humans, Cagalli knew, were slaves to their own dreams and hopes. She was one, but so was Athrun too.

Her voice was very soft as she closed her eyes, feeling the weight of his head against her chest and the warmth circulate within their embrace.

"And then you can take whatever you want that I can give."

The next day, Cagalli awoke to an empty bed once more. It came as a shock, but one that muted rather than one that caused her surprise. How long more, she thought numbly to herself, would it take for everything left in her to die completely? How many more of these mornings of waking up alone would kill off any hope that he would possibly accept her if she chose to tell him of the truth?

Trying not to feel disappointment and a slight anger that had flared in her when she had seen how quietly he must have left, Cagalli had readjusted the bath robe she had fallen asleep in, and moved back to her room through the passage. He had left it unlocked, and she assumed he would have wanted her to keep their relationship secret from his aides.

Still, even when she closed the passage door once she entered her room and thus locked it, Cagalli had been doubtful that the aides were in the dark. The twins would come in and find her here, but surely, they must have known about this passage way?

And even if nobody except Athrun and her knew of his passage way, Cagalli was quite sure that Epstein at least, was aware of her relationship with his master. Or thought he did, at least. There was no secret even if it wasn't talked about openly, that she was visiting their master's room on certain nights. The maids were probably not in the know of what potential activities might have occurred when Cagalli visited their master's room. But they must have still informed Epstein that Cagalli slept there at times. That Athrun had allowed Cagalli close while being resistant to his aides' efforts to tend to his wound was rather telling.

Now, as Cagalli moved to the garden with the intention to paint, she reflected that ever since the contract had been made between them, small incremental changes had been made in the household. It was as if to reaffirm the change in their master and his captive's relationship.

This morning, Epstein had shot her a knowing glance during breakfast while she quickly downed the variety of vitamins and supplements. While Cagalli did not see Miles Summon and June Requiem at all these days, their prescriptions were still fed to her, with the additional pills that she took without protesting.

And when Cagalli had first noticed the addition of the new drugs, she realised that Athrun's aide must have assumed that his master had probably taken the captive as a mistress.

So it continued now that on every morning now, even if Athrun did not appear for that whole day, there would be a small, innocuous-looking pill amidst the other supplements that was placed near her goblet. Nobody said anything of course, save for the knowing look in Epstein's eyes. Cagalli did not dare to correct this misconception or reject the addition, for fear that Epstein would realise that she was not Athrun's mistress in the entire sense of the word. She was certainly not sleeping with Athrun per se- but what she was doing was certainly more sordid than that. Besides, Epstein had already realised that Athrun's unprecedented move to give her information he had always been so protective of, had been linked to the maids' noticing that Cagalli sometimes visited their master's room.

Her actions of tending to Athrun's wound, Cagalli thought dully, must have reinforced the impression that she was Athrun's mistress.

In the garden, she began to try and paint.

But distracted by the very subject, Cagalli stared at the pond, the darting fishes like the strands of her stray thoughts, escaping each time a ripple reached it concentrated. The flowers in this place were perpetually in bloom, and nothing would thrive more in a controlled environment than flowers that had long been used to this place. Despite the rather convincing sky that was really a glass roof covered by the canopy of shrubs and slim, luxuriant trees, her breathing felt constricted.

Still, she knew that Athrun would certainly know how she felt. A strange kind of understanding had been established when he had agreed to her first offer, and it had deepened into empathy when she had seen him weak and afraid to trust. This offer she had yet to pay for, had also given her a deeper understanding of why he was so reluctant to be near her but why he was drawn to her all the same.

They were both trapped here in this place, in the contracts they'd gotten themselves into, and their own feelings for each other. It was hardly the first time, and it wouldn't be the last time if Cagalli's plans were carried out. By all means, she would make sure those did.

As she sighed inwardly, it occurred to Cagalli that she had never gone through the motions of being in love- not even when she had been or had been vaguely attracted to others before.

Simply put, Cagalli had no experience of sitting by the phone, wondering when a call would come. She couldn't explain the French kissing technique in ten words, unlike Aaron and the office girls, and had to contend with laughing at their raunchy jokes. She didn't know what to do to please a boy, let alone a man, and she certainly didn't understand the feelings of love between a man and woman. What she had though, was the recollection of how the other schoolgirls had behaved although those memories were slightly fuzzy now.

The girls she had witnessed in school had squealed a lot, speaking in modulated voices, sometimes high-pitched, sometimes very husky and hoarse. They had teased her, she remembered, for picking up a shovel that one particularly handsome gardener had dropped, and returning it without wasting more than a word on him, ("Here",) let alone chatting him up.

And the girls had worn fake eyelashes they fluttered at boys in the town square. Some were dating boys from the affiliated school some distance away, and the weekends had been good for dalliances. So many years later, Cagalli saw the same phenomena. On Friday nights, when Cagalli had packed and said goodbye to the office folk, she would notice the females taking off their work blazers and uniforms. That would reveal distinctively revealing dresses and maybe even towering heels as her colleagues had caught cabs or drove to town to party the night away.

The butterflies flittered in frivolous darts of colour, and Cagalli frowned. Miserably, she poured water from a flask into the palette, mixing colours she could not identify anymore. Small, day-time flying moths flittered amongst the grass, and her spirits sank.

Morosely, she dipped the brush into the murky green colour she had somehow created. But it didn't help her. With the badly mixed colour she had not even intended on creating, Cagalli began wondering what to do with the paint now. Aimlessly, she drew a horizontal line across the canvas, dividing it into three-quarters and a quarter. What a fucking mess, she thought bitterly.

And Cagalli was to blame.

Even now, when she was in the garden painting again, her moods were inconstant and prone to changing as she thought of him. Where was Athrun? From what she could see, the pond looked distinctively lonesome, its fronds no longer adorning it but shadowing it, the goldfish barely visible in the still mirror of the water. Why did she think of him so much? Even the trees above the pond seemed to be less of a canopy and more of an umbrella shielding the air around it, making everything stagnant. Did Athrun think she was attractive as she found him? The same scene, and yet the two separate paintings were so different. Where was Athrun, and what was he doing now? Athrun-

"What's wrong with me?" She said aloud in frustration. "Who cares if I wake up alone? Who cares-,"

To herself, Cagalli was being a fool over him and she didn't know how to handle it the way other girls would have at a much younger age. Dear Lord, why had she been so disinterested in boys then? If only she'd paid attention to the lessons that mattered!

Wryly, she began to laugh under her breath. When she had agreed to marry Athrun those years ago, the reality had probably not hit home until the Seirans had reminded her of her place.

They had quoted the legislation regarding her as an Orb Noble- the last of the Seirans, no less. While Cagalli had hated them and would have liked to tear their arguments down, she knew they were making objective sense. The only acceptable marriage for her was a responsibility she was bound to fulfil to Orb anyway- and that meant marrying someone others, although not necessarily her, would have to first approve of. Alex Dino certainly hadn't part of the equation even when her consent had been given to him.

But even with the benefit of hindsight, Cagalli now thought of Athrun and understood why she had been so thrilled when he had presented her with a ring and the promise of a future spent together. He had been awkward, more awkward than she'd ever seen him or expected him to be capable of being, but he had been utterly and painfully sincere.

Moreover, she had come to rely on him as a confidante- something rare and precious in her world. Besides, there was the fact that she was very much in love with him- head over heels, in fact. Naturally, with all those factors present, she had essentially forgotten or perhaps even written off her pre-existing duties to Orb not to marry anyone that the advisory council to the nobles didn't choose. Hindsight though, now told her that it had been a foolish mistake to accept and then eventually turn him away, particularly because Cagalli should have known that it was impossible between them anyway.

As a bodyguard, Alex Dino had been too lowly. As Athrun Zala, he was too dangerous. He carried too much heritage, historical and political burden. Cagalli could imagine what the council of elders would say. He would be deemed a threat to the delicate balance between the Orb coordinators and Orb naturals, and really, Orb couldn't deal with internal conflicts.

Besides, Cagalli thought with a sigh, adding the fronds over the surface of the still pond she had painted, all that was in the past now. The legal documents concerning her and Alex Dino's engagement in Orb had been destroyed exactly twelve hours after she had agreed to marry Yuna Roma Seiran. The Seirans had been planning for quite some time, she supposed. And all that had been left of the promise had been a ring she had been asked to take off anyway.

Even then, she thought with a pang, she had valued it enough to weep in private when she took it off and sealed it in a letter. And that was why her attempts to seduce Rune Estragon were truly laughable, Cagalli thought ruefully. By some strange twist, Marlin had ended up declaring himself her fiancé, and while Cagalli was astute enough to guess what was going on, she was also clever enough to use it against Athrun.

It still wasn't enough that she had confirmed her fears about the world outside the Isle. She could not and would not stop at what she was planning and already executing in order to leave and return to Orb. Now, she was indebted to Athrun.

And yet, it was obvious to herself how much she loved Athrun. There was no other explanation for why her pulse quickened each time she thought of him and imagined him to be in the corridor as she turned corners.

There was danger in their dalliance, admittedly; but it only made the thrill more undeniable. Last night had been proof of that, when he had warned her not to play with his feelings for her lest she get hurt. But Cagalli had been aware that her desire for him had reached a point where she wished she could simply put her hand against his heart and understand him completely, whereby her palms would touch his flesh and she would find a way guide herself into his mind.

A few splattering strokes of paint on the canvas marred its surface more, and the birdsong seemed to pause in contemplation of the waste Cagalli had encouraged. At this point, Cagalli realized that she had been sitting before the gardens, painting for a whole hour, thinking about him. Her painting of the pond was still incomplete although he wasn't even here distracting her and preventing her from finishing it.

Cagalli put away the paints, sighing for another time that day. The picture she was torn between finishing and discarding looked somewhat incomplete anyway. It was a rather richly-coloured but pale, wan state of the pond, as seen through her eyes.

She would never be able to understand Athrun, she reflected. No matter how many contracts she made with him, if he kept himself away, she would never gain a pathway into his mind.

On the other hand, if Athrun did understand her, as she suspected he did, he would have certainly realised that her blind conviction in leaving for Orb was fostered by beliefs that Cagalli was gradually becoming less certain of.

As if to mock her, a leaping fish made her jump too, and startled, she knocked over the easel. Muttering to herself, Cagalli bent and she began busying with setting up the easel.

On hindsight, it had probably been a blessing that the fish had shaken her out of her thoughts. For it was only then that Cagalli realised that she was not alone.

But exactly at that moment when Cagalli realised that there was someone else in the garden, Athrun was in so much pain that he was unable to bite it back into silence.

He heard a roar rip through the air, above the shouts and screams of those who were attacking. And vaguely, he realised it was his own voice. It made his attacker pause momentarily, but at the moment when Athrun hit him and the man dropped to the floor like a fly, the rest resumed their attacks, leaping at him from different places, surrounding him as wolves would against a single hare.

The stagnant air of the large room was now rusty, and the space was made small by the number of men in it. They had turned against him, Athrun knew. All the work he had put into creating a relationship of trust with Greyfriars, even if the others didn't trust him so much, could have been lost. But Atjrim didn't care. He would kill them all if he wanted.

And by God, he wanted them as dead as he could have.

Striking out, his blade met a throat, and a warm spray of blood painted his hands and his face. He had already used all the bullets in his pistol- a mother like Charles Purcell deserved no more and no less than all in the cartridge that Athrun had.

Of course, the first one had been used on Lyra.

"Estragon, Estragon." Greyfriar's voice, cunning with derision and soft with hatred, came faintly through Athrun's impaired senses. "This is really quite a show you're putting up. Better than all those bullfights and wrestlers, I should say."

Against the sheer number in this room, Athrun could not possibly win. The only person who had a usable gun here was Greyfriars, who seemed content to sit in his chair and observe from afar. In fact, the reason why Greyfriars had taken so quickly to Athrun was the simple reason that both of them trusted nobody and therefore carried a gun and knife on them at all times.

"A worthy man, possibly one after my own heart," Greyfriars had remarked during that incident, when Athrun had pointed a gun a Greyfriars' head at the very second Greyfriars had reached into his coat to take out his own gun.

None of the other men had guns, Athrun knew, because none of them had been expecting to need those today. Surely, he would have been shot dead if anyone had had a gun by now. Still, it was customary for them to carry some weapon of some sort, and those were being brandished in full force now.

He had taken down half of those who had rushed at him, all while Greyfriars had sat lazily in the corner, watching. As another man attacked from Athrun's back, he snarled, sensing it and whirling around to disembowel the man as the knife the attacker carried came close to Athrun's throat.

Athrun had already put himself into a corner, the corner that Lyra's crumpled body lay in, and it served to his advantage, making it impossible for more than one man to attack him at the same time. But as the remainder of Athrun's consciousness hit him full force, Athrun realised he was fainting.

It wasn't so much the exertion of energy. It was the realisation that no matter how many more he killed in revenge, Lyra was not going to live again.

And because that thought made him more incensed than ever, he knew he had to finish them off and get out quickly before he lost consciousness.

As he crouched, putting himself into a defensive stance, ignoring the punishment his body was taking, he slashed wildly into the next person who got too near him and Lyra. The blood sprayed against him and the man he had stabbed squealed like a pig on the spit.

"Do you think you can kill all these men?" Greyfriars voice rang out, directly opposite in the other diagonal corner of the room. They were like two men playing chess- one attacking, the other defending and launching his own attacks, both making different sacrifices. The difference was that all the men between Athrun and Greyfriars were Greyfriar's pawns. Athrun had none. He had never had anything to sacrifice except himself.

Athrun looked grimly at him but said nothing. The knife was tight in his hands, and it was stained with blood, freshly drawn from the heart of another. "They must pay for killing her."

Greyfriars stood up, waving aside the men who were still circling Athrun. As they cleared the path, Athrun looked at them warily, and Greyfriars began to move closer, taking measured steps.

With his salt and pepper hair, it was almost incongruent that Greyfriars had a trim physique and a disciplined, strong face. His eyes were an unusual shade of blue- turquoise, even, and rather telling of his Coordinator heritage. He walked with a slight limp, but his eyes told one that he could not be underestimated.

His voice was toneless and quiet, although it rang in the still room. "You always astound me, Estragon. Look at you! You, with your pianist's hands, your handsome face- you look like a man of fine upbringing, which is probably true. You deal with our money, and you've made so much more for us, because of that brilliant mind you have."

Greyfriars clucked his tongue patronisingly, but the effect was disturbing still. "I trusted you- and I still do. You have no feelings, you have no conscience, and yet, you kill like an animal when one insignificant woman is killed."

He walked to the semi-circumference of bodies that lay around Athrun, demarcating the line other men had tried to step across to reach Athrun. As it was, Athrun stood before Lyra's body. Subconciously, he was protecting it although there was nothing about his expression that suggested he was grieved by her death.

Greyfriars surveyed the bodies, clucking his tongue at those who were still alive, groaning in suffering and those whose throats had been slit or had suffered similar fatal injuries.

"You've worked with these men," Greyfriars observed bemusedly. "You were even been treated well by Charles. He fawned over you- until you decided to take the little kitty he had his eye on as your own mistress. But he still treated you well enough. He let you have her without making much of a fuss, even though he was clearly unhappy about it. And yet, you turned on him for even laying a finger on something you deemed your property."

Athrun looked emotionlessly at Greyfriars, feeling that numb gush of grief and shock at hearing Greyfriars refer to Lyra as a thing and not a person. But none of this ever registered on Athrun's face.

The other men were murmuring amongst themselves, some still holding their weapons as if preparing for the moment when Greyfriars would allow them to resume their attacks. For now, their leader showed no sign of this, as he stepped calmly across the bodies, watching Athrun, whom he knew only as Rune Estragon, one of his right-hand men.

"At least though-," Greyfriars barked a short laugh, "You have reminded me of how useful you are- how you can kill without question when any person oversteps his boundaries with you. You are a dangerous beast, Estragon, and I admire that quality in you."

If anyone had ever seen Athrun Zala before, they would not have known it was this man, he with his blank eyes and the white, empty face which so devoid of anything remotely human. His voice was very controlled, but it spoke of his throbbing anger. "She was my woman. It didn't matter if I loved her or not- nobody had the right to kill her except me."

"Which you did," Greyfriars reminded him. He pointed to what lay behind Athrun that Athrun stood some distance in front of, not looking at it. Looking at Lyra again would make him lose his senses. "You delivered the last blow she could take."

"Only to prove," Athrun said through gritted teeth, "That if she had to die, I was the one who had to kill her."

"And she deserved to," One man called out. "She was spying on us. That little bint was keeping contact with my woman from the brothel, and she found out what we were up to."

Greyfriars held up a hand, shushing the twenty to thirty men in the room. His voice raised slightly in assertion of his authority. "Silence."

He turned back to Athrun, who was as still as a statue and his face unreadable and blank. Greyfriars smiled, almost benevolently except for that insane light in his eyes. He took out a cigarette and lit it easily, puffing on it and sighing in contentment while Athrun watched steely.

"These men you took down-," Greyfriars gestured negligently at the groaning injured men and those who had been killed, "Are sufficient payment for the lack of respect you suffered. I give you that, Estragon, because I know men like you and I cannot accept idiocy and disrespect."

Athrun's glare was the only answer he got.

"Put in another way, Greyfriars admitted, "I allowed this fight to go on for much longer than was necessary because I wanted to see how long you could last. And you've impressed me. You always do, which is why I give you so much berth."

The disgruntled murmuring from the other men who whispered amongst themselves was halted by Greyfriars holding up his hand again, the way a judge would have banged on the gavel.

"But I can give you no more than that, Estragon. These men plan to die for other reasons. They will sacrifice their lives for their loved ones who were taken away from them. But they should not die because they foolishly act in the anger they feel now at your retaliation at Purcell's act, which really, was done in the best interests of the group."

"And that is why," Greyfriars said, raising his voice confidently, thumping his walking stick on the ground, "I will not allow anyone here to attack Rune Estragon any further. I would rather you live," He said pointedly to Athrun. "Because you're more valuable that way."

He turned to the men who were visibly disappointed at Greyfriars' reluctance to let Rune Estragon be taken down. "And I would rather my brothers use the rest of their lives seeking revenge on those who killed your families then on some petty internal squabble."

"But Purcell didn't deserve to die," One man pointed out rashly. Athrun turned his eyes on the man who had spoken, and the person immediately shrank.

"If Charles had not been so indiscreet with his mistress," Greyfriars continued blithely, walking over and kicking the still-warm body, "Estragon's mistress would not have gotten information from her friend either. Brothel girls tend to tell each other things they hear from their men, and Charles Purcell and Rune Estragon's mistresses were not very different."

"Of course," Greyfrairs said in a quieter voice, turning to look at Athrun, "I suppose your mistress was curious at why you kept away from her and only visited once in a while." He sighed, kicking the corpse again as if to verify that his right-hand man was indeed dead. "Charles was very useful to me, you know. I'm going to have to make you do more work for me, now that you've killed him."

Athrun's eyes narrowed, following Greyfriars as he limped past the line of slaughter Athrun was personally responsible for. "The only person who had the right to deal with Lyra Delphius was me. But without asking me, without getting my permission first, Charles poisoned her. He needed to be punished."

"And you did." Greyfrairs conceded. He paused before passing Athrun to take a look at the dead Lyra, smiling graciously, almost mockingly. "Have you spent all your rage now? Are you ready to pledge allegiance to these men and myself again, after killing more than a few of my men?"

There were angry mutters and clear derision from the men, who were still standing tensely. When Athrun had entered the room, he had not seen all of them, only because he was intent on reaching what he realised to be Lyra in a corner. He had strode to her as she had lay there, gasping and wheezing, turning her grey eyes on him. Her lips had been chalk white, and he knew she was fighting back the screams of pain that bubbled from her throat as strangled sounds of agony.

The moments after that were foreign and blurred in Athrun's mind.

All he knew was that the men had leapt to try and attack him. That had been when Athrun had turned away from Lyra, looked at all the men, seen Purcell who had stepped forward, smiling like the fool he was, and then shot Lyra's murderer straight in the head. Even when the bullet had sunk into his skull, Purcell hadn't realised that Athrun had not done it to impress them and to join in her murder, but that Athrun had done it out of mercy.

Purcell's brains were still patterned on the carpet in a gloppy, unsightly mess, a glassy eyeball somewhere near Greyfriar's feet. As he looked at the men however, Athrun knew they were still bristling with rage at his turning on Purcell right after Athrun had shot a dying Lyra in her chest.

Athrun closed his eyes, fighting back all his emotions. If only they knew how Lyra had looked every time they were together- how her eyes begged him to be honest with her, how she had never cried in front of him except that one time when he had bought her freedom. If only they knew how much more she was worth than all these bastards put together-

But in that moment, Athrun betrayed everything that still lived in him because he could not afford to betray himself and all those who needed him.

"I will pledge my allegiance, because I have always been thinking of this group's best interests." Athrun said calmly. "But I will not apologise for the injuries or deaths I have caused."

At the precise moment went he said this, he knew that a little more of him had died with Lyra. The men began to shout in protest, but Greyfriars held up a hand, silencing them all again.

"Fair enough," Greyfriars shrugged. "I suppose you had a right to take revenge on those who did not respect your ownership of the girl. And I suppose she served you well enough. Otherwise, you wouldn't have bothered reminding us all of what we can interfere with and what we can't."

Athrun turned, not really looking at Lyra's peaceful expression because he could not afford to break down here. He began to walk towards her body, picking it up without sparing it a glance. Then he turned back, facing Greyfriars and the men who stood behind their leader.

As he turned, there was nothing to suggest affection or sorrow in his form. He held her as if he would have held something that had been inanimate and non-living from the start.

And Athrun began stepping over those he had taken down. As he did to move out of the room, he counted their bodies. He reached ten, thirteen, fourteen dead ones. He kept his head down, looking at his feet, knowing instinctively where they would lead him.

"Where are you going with that?" One in the room asked incredulously.

"To bury her." Athrun said after a pause. These bastards needed no words from him, but they had to know at least this. "She deserves to be buried for accepting her death and punishment so graciously. The rest-," He looked up, showing his face to all of them, and there was not a single person in the room who did not feel their insides contract with the look on his face.

For Rune Estragon's eyes were cold, and his face without any sign of humanness, his lips twisted in a scornful smile. There was something immensely frightening about how still, how cold this man was, and his voice was without any emotion. "The rest can rot."

Silently, Athrun walked past Greyfrairs, who was still holding a hand up and watching him leave.

Lyra, in Athrun's arms, was limp and still beautiful. Her once-short golden hair now tumbled soft and long , over his elbow, and her flesh, once warm like mead and heady to touch, was becoming cold.

Past the men, past the dead men, out of the door, into another passage way, Athrun walked. He walked, carrying Lyra Delphius, who had only wanted to know him, who had only wanted to understand why he could never open himself to her and why he had left so suddenly that one evening. She had kept contact with Purcell's mistress, who often heard him rambling when he was drunk.

It was precisely through this, that Lyra had learnt enough for Greyfriars' men to realise she was a risk to their objectives. Purcell had realised what was going on and then taken the initiative to track and kill Lyra Delphius, who had conveniently been Rune Estragon's mistress. Being the insecure, egoistic bastard he was, Purcell had always regarded Rune Estragon as a rival for Greyfriar's attention. Rune Estragon's supposed stealing of a brothel girl Purcell had wanted had also been a thorn in Purcell's side, along with the yacht he had lost in a game of cards with Rune Estragon.

With her death however, Athrun's secrets were all safe. Greyfrairs and the other all thought Lyra had searched for information because of her curiosity, but they didn't understand that Lyra had been a spy for Rune Estragon since the time he had taken her as his mistress. He hadn't meant for her to be one, but through time, he had found that information was always put into her hands somehow. It may have been the way she attracted men and women alike to her, and it may have been the way she could gain information from them by making them feel at ease with her light conversation and ready smile. Through time, he relied on her to gain information for him.

Now as Athrun walked, he finally allowed himself to take a look at her. The tiny, tranquil smile on her lips made her look alive, although her body was cold already.

For her, she had died asking silently, why love could never last. As he had watched her draw her last breath, he had asked why that little life had gone so fast.

Four years ago, she had served as his consort, appearing at events, getting information through conversations with the people Athrun wanted her to speak to, finding more about the Danish terrorists from the other asylum-seekers and guests at parties. Lyra was absolutely necessary from a pragmatic point of view, for people were often more willing to talk to a beautiful young woman even in their drunken stupor, than a man as enigmatic and aloof as Rune Estragon.

She had never questioned him or all the things he kept from her, Athrun realised with a pang. This was probably because Lyra had been afraid he would leave her. She had tried to trust him, she had kept out of his way when he didn't want to come to her, and she had never turned him away when he came to her for comfort and that tenderness she always gave him. Even when he was calling her by another's name when they made love, she never questioned him in the morning- never told him to treat her better, never asked him why he had to hurt her like that.

And he had left her still.

As the yacht travelled over the water, Athrun sat facing the sea, Lyra cradled in his arms still. They were reaching the Fifth Isle soon, and he would bring her to the place where she had always loved. Those flowers she had grown still bloomed, and years ago, he had taken the offshoots and placed them in the gardens in his own manor. Those were finer than anything he had ever seen, and the cuttings were very good too.

Her death was not his fault. She had continued questioning and trying to find out more than what was good for her even after Athrun had left, hoping he would keep her safe that way. Her own need to know had killed her.

"But it isn't fair," Athrun said softly, looking at the still, lifeless woman, "That you never blamed me."

Purcell had done more than punish his mistress- he had gone and poisoned Lyra, informing Rune Estragon to come and watch a traitor being punished. By the time Athrun had reached the un-numbered Isle that the Danish terrorists inhabited, Athrun had been too late.

He had entered their stronghold, watched as Lyra had laid there dying, choking and gasping, but holding back all her tears. Watching her and the questions that nobody would ever answer surface in her eyes had made Athrun do what he did.

He had shot her in her chest, keeping all their secrets, keeping her dignity, giving her the last mercy she would ever be shown. Blocked from the rest, Lyra had smiled once the shadow the crouching Athrun had cast over her, and he had seen relief and gratefulness in her eyes. She would never understand how or why she had died, but a part of Athrun wanted Lyra to blame him as she died. It was only fair that she hate him for his using her, but she had only looked at him with that tender, melancholic love and trust, and that had made him lose his sanity.

Naturally, Athrun hadn't been able to prevent himself from turning on a manically laughing Purcell, who had been telling the others present that Rune Estragon was teaching her a lesson too.

As he moved slowly to the Cliffside, Athrun laid Lyra in the midst of the tall grasses and flowers. He knelt down in the grass as well, looking at her and caressing her face for the final time. She looked very different from Cagalli, he realise, nor could not begrudge her that. In this light, in his soberness, Lyra's face had a secrecy that Cagalli's could never quite hold, and her face was oval, not heart-shaped. Her mouth too, even in its most beautiful smile, was enigmatic rather than bright and lovely. She was not child-like, but sophisticated and elegant.

He had come to realise this a long time ago, but even now, Athrun had to admit that she was entirely different from Cagalli. And because she had seen what he had come to terms with in his eyes when he had shot her, she had died with nothing but love for him. His growing inability to use her as a replacement for another that he loved had put a distance between them both, but it had been the best thing he could have given her, as Lyra had once told him.

With his bare hands, he began to dig, not caring that there were better tools if he could fetch them, not caring that his hands and his knees would be dirtied. They could not be dirtied more than they were, and the soil would not add to the filth but cleanse his hands.

Her voice echoed in the wind and in his memory- what she had said when he had apologised to her before leaving. Her voice had been quiet, sad but accepting at the same time. "At least, you're leaving me because I am my own person, even if I cannot be another person that you love."

He dug for as long as it took, and the clouds swelled with the growing evening, orange and pink, then dark blue and grey as the humidity increased and the rain bean to patter softly. The grasses bowed wistfully to the wind, the butterflies disappearing into the sweet air, and the cricket song becoming faint with the howls of the approaching winds. The grave was ready.

At the Cliffside, only the flowers that would eventually grow over the soil would ever know how Athrun's tears fell silently, raining over the woman he had taken and ruined.

On the other side of the sizeable pond's banks, the hydrangeas might have hidden the boy, but the brilliant bursts of colours and the palette of intense aubergines, cyan and lush pinks could not hide the mop of milky, Darjeeling-tea coloured hair.

Besides, there was laughter in the air, and birdsong had not masked that.

For beyond the thick shrubs on the other side of the pond, there had been a small boy playing with something that shone brilliantly in the garden.

Cagalli had blinked, rubbed her eyes, and stared again.

For an inexplicable reason, she lost her nerve, ran a distance to the main entrance of the gardens, and sprinted in the corridor until she found Epstein, who had been walking along another corridor.

"There's a child in the gardens!" She had said in the same voice of disbelief.

Gazing at her flushed face and hearing Cagalli's breathless, somewhat disjointed explanation of what she had seen in the gardens, Epstein had laughed, leading her back there.

At this point in time, Epstein nodded, encouraging her as he led her past the opposite bank and through the pathway of hydrangeas and dog-roses. The light was blinding as it darted through the glass ceiling in this giant, indoor gardens, and she could not see everything in the white light and from the distance she stood at.

Nevertheless, she saw that the child come into view, and his voice and laughter seemed to ring even clearer in the gardens.

Her feet were frozen in her tracks, and she wondered if she was hallucinating.

The child had somehow been joined by a puppy, and together, they were play-wrestling and frolicking in the long grasses that were dotted with tiny white and yellow flowers.

"I see a child and a dog." She said in wonder.

Epstein, at her side, chuckled.

"Your eyesight's fine." He said casually, leading her forward by her elbow while she tripped along, still stunned to see a child here in a place that she and Epstein usually visited alone. The new presence of this little stranger here made her feel uneasy, and she realized that she had been already familiarized with the place to feel threatened with another person here.

"Ko here," Epstein informed her, because she was speechless, "Is Kitani Harumi's child. I'm his foster father."

"What?" Her shock must have been obvious with all he had said, but Epstein blithely ignored it.

"Come. I'll introduce you to him."

"Ko!" He called out. The child, who had turned his back momentarily to do something, looked up at that point. Catching sight of Epstein, he waved.

He was smiling widely, his eyes as dark as coal in a very fair face, and his mouth parted as he shouted Epstein's name in his excitement. The puppy ran a circle around Ko in its enthusiasm, and the boy nearly tripped but managed to run towards Epstein. They were no longer three meters apart, Cagalli thought with wonder, but she was staring at this real boy now.

"Why didn't you come with Mr. Estragon and me the other time?" Ko said reproachfully, looking up at Epstein. "Were you so busy that you couldn't come too? It would have been better if you came fishing with us- he even said so himself. I caught a big fish-," He waved his arms madly, probably exaggerating about the catch which seemed to be a whale by measurements he provided. "But you weren't there to see it!"

"I'll explain later, Ko." Epstein promised indulgently. "But first, I'd like you to meet a friend of Mr. Estragon's."

Epstein began kneeling to the child's level, bringing him to face Cagalli. The boy was already staring at Cagalli with an expression of great interest, and Cagalli bent down as well, still stunned and a bit dazed. She was aware that the child was rather small if she had guessed his age to be less than ten.

Epstein had put his arm around the child, effectually shielding half his body because the boy was of small build. And next to the child, Epstein looked very much like an elder brother.

Strange, Cagalli thought, that a child was wearing gloves at this age and in a form-fitting long-sleeved shirt and pants. There was something clearly unlike any child that this boy had- the tilt of his head, the inquiring eyes that had an aged wisdom to it, and a lethal grace he moved with. It reminded her of someone, although she couldn't think of who it was.

Now, his puppy immediately raised its hackles, growling, until Ko shushed it with an indignant cry. "Pepita!"

The puppy looked woebegone as it sat on its haunches, wagging its tail still, unable to contain its excitement. It still vibrated like a slinky even while sitting, and Cagalli had to laugh. The child stared up at her with his large jet eyes, but his hair color was like with milk coffee. A little English prince, this boy seemed to be.

"Pleased to meet you, Ko." Cagalli said shyly, feeling as if she had been the intruder in his gardens. And perhaps, she reflected, she was the stranger and not this child, who seemed so at ease with everything around him "And Pepita too."

She held a hand out tentatively, letting the puppy sniff it then lick it in obvious approval of her. Laughing now, Cagalli patted it, and it began to vibrate even more happily, making a small whining sound.

"Who is she?" The boy said delightedly to Epstein, obviously pleased by Cagalli's respect towards his pet. Because they were all the same height now, he was able to look directly at Cagalli and particularly at her hair. He was staring as if he had never seen this kind of hair colour before, she realised, and his eyes were so wide she could see her reflection in those.

"This is Cagalli Yula Atha," Epstein announced, ruffling Ko's hair. "She's a princess, Ko. Maybe you should address her with her title. It would only be polite, yes?"

"Just like in the story books?" Ko said innocently and fighting back the questions that must have been sitting on the tip of his tongue. "So you live in a castle then, Ma'am?"

"Not exactly," She said smilingly, feeling his tiny hands reach out to touch hers, as if he was confirming that princesses were human too. "Just a large house. Not as large as this one, anyway."

Ko took another step closer, and Epstein was forced to take his arm away from around the boy. As he stepped nearer to Cagalli, who was still crouching down, she got a better look at the child.

But then, the boy bowed politely. When he straightened up, the child stared at her with a similar expression- curiosity but something like a very mature pride in his face.

"Your surname is Kitani isn't it?" She said softly. "And you are Kitani Harumi's son."

He looked stricken and looked at Epstein, who nodded to reassure him. Clearly, he had been instructed to keep both his name and his mother's identity known to only a select few people.

"Yes," He said hesitantly. "But I am called Kaye Humbert on The Isle. And my mother tells me to use that name."

She nodded, understanding. "I'm Cagalli."

"She's Mr. Estragon's confidante." Epstein added, for Ko's benefit, even as Cagalli smiled ruefully.

"So Cathy and Lacy know her and know that she is Mr. Estragon's confidante?" The child said excitedly, beaming at the prospects of having a new playmate.

Cagalli stared at Epstein. It was certain too, that the maids were too young to even understand or suspect what could be possibly happening between their master and her. They behaved normally with her and showed little understanding or suspicion of why Athrun's shirt was sometimes borrowed and found in her room. But there was no mistake that Epstein understood something of her relationship with their master even if only partially.

"Mr. Estragon and Cagalli here are good friends." Epstein said vaguely. He was obviously trying to put the relationship in a child-friendly context. "Naturally, the twins know her."

Cagalli felt slightly uncomfortable but held her tongue.

"Really?" Ko said innocently. He continued to stare at her, not rudely, mind you, but so diligently that she wondered if he was sketching her face in his mind. That slightly comical intentness about him made her feel less threatened now, and Cagalli grinned at him.

"Is there something on my face?" She asked a bit meekly, not knowing why she was so careful with this child. But it seemed that with every new person she met, she was expecting to know less and less of them.

"No, ma'am," Ko returned fearlessly, with that childlike curiousness but without the mischief children usually carried. What an unusual boy, Cagalli thought in wonder. There was something solemn about him, despite his innocence.

Now, he smiled trustingly at her. "But studying people's faces allows me to know a little of them. And you're very pretty."

She reciprocated with her own smile, feeling a bit embarrassed. "As I said before, just call me Cagalli. And thank you for saying that- you're very kind."

The boy laughed a bright, happy sound. "I saw you a while ago here, painting by the pond, but I was afraid to approach, because Mr. Estragon and Epstein tell me to avoid people I have never seen before. So I didn't dare to come by. But your painting's very good," He added quickly, as if afraid she would think he didn't come by because he didn't think she was painting anything worth seeing. And he gazed at her intently, "I like it."

"I keep telling her the same," Epstein added in.

Cagalli grinned, inclining her head a little. "Thank you, but I don't think it's anything more than a mess of colours."

"No," Ko protested eagerly. He grabbed her hand and tugged her along, making her run a little as Epstein stood where he was, watching them both with a tender expression in his face. Pepita trotted after Ko and Cagalli, looking every inch the faithful guard dog.

"You should try painting these," Ko said cheerfully, gesturing to some magnificent lilies in a lattice in a corner. "Or these-," He pointed to a particularly colourful spray of clematis. "Or even these red clovers-," He trailed off, a little out of breath, Cagalli's hand still tight in his. "Or maybe these yellow flowers-,"

"Um-," She paused, remembering what Epstein had said or rather, not said about this particular section of the garden. She stared at Ko's gloves, wondering if he was wearing these because he gardened. But these were made of leather, and he seemed hardly to have used them for gardening because there was no soil on the tips. Still, Ko seemed very fond of this patch of plants, focusing all his attention to it and recommending those flowers that Epstein had admitted to not planting. "Did you plant these flowers, Ko?"

"Yes," He chirped happily. "Pretty, aren't they? I think they would look nicer if you painted them-," Ko added shyly.

She chuckled, feeling incredibly delirious with how sweet the child was. "I hardly think I can do justice to this patch you've tended so well. These are lovely, Ko."

"Well," The child considered for a moment, "I can't say I did all the work. I didn't grow them from seeds- that's much harder to do if you want good plants. But good cuttings make good plants, and good cuttings must first come from good plants."

"You mean," Cagalli said slowly, "You didn't plant the originals?"

"No," Ko said readily. "Mr. Estragon just gave me some cuttings to do whatever I liked with them. So I planted them here." He looked at her with his bright, innocent eyes. "I could ask him where he got them if you like, Cagalli. I think he would tell me."

And Ko turned, not seeing Cagalli's puzzled expression, but calling out loudly and asking Epstein, "When will Mr. Estragon be back soon? The other time, when he left me on the oth-,"

"Shush," Epstein said causally enough, but Cagalli still caught the warning gaze he had shot to the boy. "Not too soon. Am I such an awful teacher and father that you wish he'd resume teaching you personally, Ko?"

"No!" The child's voice was a worried cry as he ran back and threw himself around Epstein, hugging him in hope of redemption for his mistake at almost revealing something and then for insinuating that Epstein was insufficient. "I didn't mean that, Epstein! I only meant that-"

"I know, I know," Epstein assured him, pinching his cheek lightly. "I was just teasing you. Anyway, I'll be a bit busy so the twins will take over your next few lessons. Have you been practicing what Mr. Estragon taught you before he left?"

Cagalli's eyes darted from Ko to Epstein, and she tried to understand what they were saying. Athrun must have been referring to this boy when he had briefly mentioned Epstein's children at one point. She had thought it surprisingly that such a young man would have children of his own, but it had been possible. Whatever the case, she certainly hadn't considered this possibility.

"Yes." Ko said eagerly. "I've been doing what he told me to do- thumb on the outer edge of the handle-," He demonstrated with air and what looked like a firm grip on an invisible something. It looked very familiar, but she did not recognize it immediately because she was far too disorientated to.

Yet, as Cagalli observed him; and as the child talked a little more and demonstrated what he'd been practicing, she felt her knees going weak as she began to understand.

She stared at the small child as he turned a little more, finally noticing what hung from his side. Now she knew what was familiar about his movements. The child had moved with Athrun's grace, a grace that was probably both natural and inherited from his teacher. The same fluid motions Cagalli had seen Athrun use against her a long time ago had already been taught to Ko.

The child had not been playing with a mirror or a piece of glass when Cagalli had first spotted him. He had been practicing his blade-skills.

A knife- sheathed now, but a knife nevertheless- was hanging from Ko's side, fastened to his belt. So it was, Cagalli thought briefly, that Athrun had been teaching this child how to fend for himself, and possibly, something more sinister. She thought of the twins and the way they pared apples and felt a chill settle into her.

Unaware of her thoughts, Ko looked at her and smiled trustingly. "When did Miss Cagalli meet Mr. Estragon?"

She jolted to attention. "Oh. A long time ago- he demonstrated some of that skill-," Cagalli gestured helplessly at Ko's blade, "To me."

Entirely ignorant of their first meeting whereby Athrun had tried to slit her throat, Ko beamed with excitement. "He's super, isn't he?"

Smiling but with some suspicion, Cagalli asked, "Do you enjoy the lessons?"

"Of course!" The boy piped up innocently. He spoke in exclamations, making Epstein smile. "He moves so quickly! It's incredible! Even my mother can't move as quickly as him, although she's probably better with a sword. But she won't teach me yet, she says, not until I learn the basics from Mr. Estragon. Epstein here," He looked loyally and adoringly at Epstein, who looked somewhat embarrassed, "Is good too. Cathy and Lacy have already learnt those, so he teaches them the more complex skills."

"Cartesia and Laplacia," Epstein translated for Cagalli. He grinned. "Ko can't pronounce their names easily."

"He's a really good teacher." Ko rattled on, not noticing the private conversation between the adults. "He gave me Pepita here when I learnt how to throw knives properly the other time." The puppy was still sitting on the ground, watching her master with adoring eyes and a pink tongue lolling from its mouth.

Then Ko's eyes grew wide as a thought struck him. And quickly, he tugged at Cagalli's sleeve.

"Does Mr. Estragon teach you how to use the knife too?" He looked at her demandingly, as if afraid that she would prove to be a better student than him.

She stared at the boy, understanding why he wore gloves now. And she swallowed, looking at Epstein, who looked considerably pained.

"No," Cagalli said tensely.

And it all made sense suddenly. The twins were strong enough to lift heavy wardrobes; Epstein good at reading people's thoughts, and this boy wearing gloves was learning how to use a knife.

Athrun was more than their senior and superior. He was their instructor and he was teaching them what had made him one of the top soldiers in Zaft all those years ago.

Biting her lips and feeling a chill run through her, Cagalli stared at both of them. Athrun was teaching his wards and even this boy how to kill.

Five evenings later, Athrun returned to the Manor once more.

In fact, Cagalli had simply not known of Athrun's return only until she'd grown bored of painting and returned to her room. There, she had found the parcel, laid out on her vanity. While she had found nobody there, the parcel had been a keen indication of who it was from. Unwrapping it, Cagalli had found an exquisite, mint-coloured dress with a hem that would barely graze her knees. On her vanity, fan-shaped, elongated mother-of-pearl earrings in platinum from the cat-trinket box had been set out.

Her daily attire of choice was often a simple blouse and shorts, for Cagalli had blithely ignored the dresses she could have had her pick from. Even the dainty looking heels did not sway her choice of the simplest bare of ballet pumps, and in the garden, even those comparatively sensible shoes had been discarded. Mere hours ago, Cagalli had sat bare-footed while painting in the garden, enjoying the gauzy grass brushing against her soles.

Now though, someone had given her this dress and picked out gems for her to wear. Certainly, it had not been the maids, who would have stayed and waited for Cagalli to return to help her into it.

With a slight frown, Cagalli looked at the soft, yielding material in her hands and thought of her work attire, which she had grown comfortable in for those years and even yearned for. The uniform she had established over the years beyond the actual military uniform would have served her well here, she thought ruefully, structured, stiff and even somewhat bulky. That way, Cagalli would have actually felt better equipped to make deals with Athrun than the clothes supplied to her here.

Even the non-uniform work suits had been simple to choose in the morning, what with her rolling out of bed, cursing at the clock, running to shower and wash up, and then grabbing a fixed suit set. The process was short, sharp, and miraculously simple if she did not mix the six different sets up. She never had.

For to prevent that, Cagalli had written numbers on the hangers, then written corresponding numbers on the hidden tags of the corresponding pieces, and arranged her outfits almost mechanically. All she had to do was to remember if she had worn 'set two' last Tuesday if she was about to grab it and it happened to be a Tuesday.

What she had been used to was unlike this fussy, funny business Athrun had put her into. Of course, that wasn't really it either, since the maids usually did the picking out of things and she did the wearing without asking questions. But the whole motion of putting on a dress, wearing pearls and perfume and pretty shoes, even if those had been selected for her, then waiting for something to happen, made her feel quite helpless. That helplessness translated to her stammering and stalling in front of Athrun, and it infuriated her.

She gazed at the dress she spread over the bed, frowning a little.

The clear feminity to her daily attire disconcerted her, let alone this gift. Was her accepting and wearing it to be a price for his sending a letter she had yet to write? And why this dress?

While Cagalli privately thought Athrun's taste was impeccable and the dresses surprisingly light-weight and comfortable, she did not like the fact that he had picked out everything from her accessories to her underwear. It was frankly disturbing that he, as a man, had single-handedly decided what would be in that massive wardrobe of hers.

Drying her hair while still sitting on the bed and deciding what to do, Cagalli bit her lip.

It embarrassed her each time Cagalli wore the clothes. Certainly, he must have picked this or that out and decided it would fit by imagining her in it. Back in Orb, she fumed, nobody had gotten past her estate gates or office door without clearing about a hundred different high-tech security checks. And there he was, getting into her wardrobe by picking out clothes and more for her without her final say!

While she was perfectly aware that Athrun could not bring her out of the Manor and to the nearest mall, Cagalli was upset that he even had a say in what she wore. While her say back at home had been a limited one ever since she'd created work uniforms beyond the official uniform, she was still insistent about wanting her say.

Of course, Cagalli appreciated the maids' efforts to pamper her. Admittedly, she did enjoy it to some extent, what with the way she could speak to them and watch them all in the mirror as they shared girlish secrets about their favourite colours and scents. She liked that aspect of the pampering, and she liked pampering the twins by insisting that they paint their nails and used whatever they fancied. They were often resistant and denied wanting to, but Cagalli knew better. She was female, after all.

She stood up, taking a few steps back to secretly admire the gorgeous material and lovely delicate quality of the dress that lay light like sea-foam, against her bed.

But she did not like feeling helpless, Cagalli reminded herself fiercely.

She was not the young girl she had been once, her hair braided and adorned with flowers. She did not like being that princess the fairytales had featured. The twins' attention made her feel like a weakling, and she resented that.

Moreover, she could not snap and tell the twins to leave her to do her own nails and hair if she ever dreamt of spending more than five minutes on both. That irritated her, because she would have certainly not hesitated to let rip in Orb. She had done that a few times, when some lousy make-up assistant wanted to primp her up for some media appearance. Of course, Aaron had begged her to let them have their way and she had relented for his sake.

Here, Cagalli felt morally obliged to be gentle to the twins for fear of hurting their feelings. And that made her feel displaced, which she certainly resented. Ultimately, while she was not adverse to the gold-star standard of first-class hotel treatment, Cagalli did not like the darned feeling that she did not call the darned shots in this darned place.

Wondering if she could disobey the clear intention that Athrun had set out along with this parcel, Cagalli strode to her closet, yanking open the door, quite prepared to take out any dress that wasn't the one he had given.

But something in her face the vanity mirror reflected- her eyes, in fact- certified that Cagalli was only stalling. The variety of colours behind the wooden doors was opposite to what she was used to, and it reminded her that here, nothing was quite the same.

Striding around in either a uniform on the important days, or different variations and colours of the same pant-suit, Cagalli had preferred skirts only on the days when the media was allowed to the office or if she had one of those blasted dinner-dates after work. Still, those skirts were clearly and inevitably suit-skirts, comparatively long when she stood next to the other females and ending right above the knees but at a respectable area of her legs. She had one suit in black for the meeting-days, grey for the normal days, light-grey for the days she couldn't care less, navy for the normal-but-slightly-more-cheerful days, cream for the media days because Aaron swore they made her look less imposing, and off-black for Saturdays, when not many people were back in the office.

Here, Cagalli thought as she studied the dresses, she was forced to desert the power of masculinity she had wielded against unsuspecting people.

Her blouses back home were mostly white in different textures, but still plain and business-like. The jackets were tailored simply to accentuate the imposing impression they gave. While austere, those were well-cut to do her justice. In and of themselves, her suits were first-class even if bland, really.

Here, even the blouses were silk. Even the simplest white ones had pearls for buttons, and some were sheer; sure to move like a second skin against her even if those could be buttoned to the throat. And the prim, turtlenecks would still cling to her quite clearly because he hadn't supplied her some kind of jacket or vest, or allowed her to bind herself.

She glared at the blouses, averting her eyes. He'd even set out shoes that he'd selected for her.

In the office, she had only worn heels to add height and stature, aware that it made others take notice of her when she marched around, asking for things to be done more efficiently, the latest reports to be re-edited because of glaring errors- things like that.

Despite the simple austerity, the entire effect made her look positively tall when she was not really of an outstanding height. But even those had been sensible two-and-half inches, not thick but not paper thin stilettos either, and with the toes covered in a combination between the Mary-Jane roundedness and the crocodile shape that would have elongated her feet too much to do justice to their small, dainty shapes. Next to any man, Cagalli would hold her ground easily and with minimal effort. And dear Lord, she needed that as the chief of the office and Orb's key leader.

But here, the heels would only emphasise feminity with everything that existed in her pre-arranged wardrobe.

"Why am I always so unlucky?" Cagalli fumed to herself.

Next to the less important female officials in office skirts of more suggestive lengths, she had been a stark figure. The schooldays seemed to be repeating themselves all over again, except this time, they were all women and Cagalli did not have the luxury or impetus of parting her jacket or military coat to reveal a feminine 'gap', as the girls had called it. With the parting of stiff, well-structured coats, the women in the office often revealed flirtier dresses or soft-coloured silks beneath their uniforms. She however, wasn't one of those women who answered to a superior- she was the one who represented and wielded power. She didn't need company, didn't need a lover, didn't need a dog- didn't need anything or anyone.

But she couldn't assert her authority here even with her choice of clothes. And certainly not with Athrun, Cagalli thought embarrassedly. Even taking the backdoor route and trying to establish some kind of upper hand by using the feminine 'gap' was difficult.

After all, it was virtually impossible to surprise Athrun with some kind of tarty dress, Cagalli thought glumly, seeing that he knew everything she might have possibly worn, seeing as he had supplied it. Maybe, his giving her a new dress was even his way of telling her that she could pull no surprises on him.

Besides, Cagalli reflected with a heavy sigh, he wasn't around enough for her to pull that on him. So really, for all her impulsiveness and desire to rebel and tell him to screw off if he wanted her to feel weak and displaced in a dress, Cagalli found herself getting into it.

And as she did, she was aware that her appearance and attitude were undergoing a significant change. This was different; this contact of cloth with her skin. He had selected this above all that he already had, and she could almost feel the way his fingers must have ran against the cloth, deciding if it would feel correct against someone else's skin.

This was a gift that Athrun had specifically chosen for her and she had no right to refuse it.

More accurately, Cagalli had no right to refuse him.

With a heart that seemed to thump in her throat, she had taken a bath, put everything on with a little make-up, and then moved to the dining room. To her, the presence of the new dress and the gems had made it obvious that Athrun would be present at dinner, and he certainly had been.

Eager to meet him even before that, Cagalli strode to her room's passageway and tried to tug the door open. But in doing so, she found it locked.

She knocked on it, feeling foolish, knowing that Athrun was unlikely to be hanging around in the passageway and not his room.

A bit flustered but not deterred, she found a bobby pin from somewhere, and began to pick at the lock. Her friends in school had taught her this neat little trick, and so many years later, it was coming into use.

As the door clicked upon, Cagalli quickly pattered in, not stopping to consider what he would say if he realised she had barged into his room without an invitation. Still, she opened his door after a slight knock and found no reply.

With baited breath, she pulled open the door and scanned her eyes around. But there was nobody.

Disappointed, Cagalli exhaled heavily, and began to walk around the place. As she moved towards his bed, staring morosely at it, she heard a panting sound from somewhere, and immediately, she looked around, trying to locate its source.

Soon, she realised where Athrun had to be, and without care for her attire, she sprinted to his bathroom, only halting when she reached the door. A logical thought struck her. What if Athrun was merely doing some kind of swimming exercise in his oversized bathtub? If she barged in like this, he would certainly jump out of his skin and curse at her.

Blushing, Cagalli found a crack in the door and peeked through it, wondering what he was up to.

She could see his hand, its palm facing upwards and his arm, white and almost ghostly through the steam. There was a faint, soft sound, low and comforting, and with a start, Cagalli realised he was humming very quietly. There was no fixed tune and he might have even been murmuring something, and the echoes were ghostly and haunting in the silence.

It seemed that he must have been in the water, half-dreaming to himself, and that watching him was part of a dream she was subsumed in too.

He wasn't moving, and it was obvious to her that Athrun must have leaned against the side of the pool-like bath and was resting there. But as she prepared to leave it at that, the arm moved, taking the hand away from where she had seen it. Cagalli heard no sound of his body submerging into the water, but the humming stopped gradually.

Curiously, she tried to stare, but could find no way of getting a better view. And it seemed that Athrun had probably moved into the water. She held her breath, trying to imagine herself being submerged too. Soon, she had to start breathing again, but it seemed like forever that Athrun remained underwater, with no need to breathe above it. He was probably training his ability to hold his breath under water, Cagalli thought briefly. Probably.

But as she waited, counting the seconds, she began to feel a twinge of worry.

No splash of emergence, no panting, no washing sounds, nothing. Had more than a minute passed already?

It was dead silent. And casting all inhibition aside and throwing caution to the winds, Cagalli pulled open the door and came face to face with Athrun, lying backwards so his back was half-resting, half-floating in the water above the steps. The steam was evaporating with the air she'd let in, and it was clear that he was still in his clothes, including the white, long-sleeved workshirt, one sleeve-rolled up, the other not. There was a bluish-aqua tinge to the water in the light, and his white shirt was drifting like weed around him as his hair was, anchored only by his torso and scalp respectively. Under the warm, flattering lighting, he looked curiously like a wax mannequin, immaculate and non-transmutable.

There was an eerie beauty to his tranquil expression, the water tiny bubbles were clinging to his hair and skin, some dragging their way languorously from his lips, and how his fingers were curved but weightless in the water. He looked like a perfect marionette doll- one that was in slumber and the depths of water and dreams.

"Athrun!"

Crying out in terror, Cagalli ran over to him, kneeling at the sides, stumbling in to try and pull him out by his shoulders, not caring that the water was ruining the dress she had carefully put on. As she tried to pull him out, she stumbled forward and her heel caught in the hem of her new dress, ripping it with an awful sound and the water wet the heels she had matched with the gift.

Cagalli could not have cared less.

"Epstein!" Cagalli screamed. Her voice cut through the air, rendering it to shreds as the sound pierced and echoed through the bathroom. The echoes became ghostly, and the world seemed to become a terrible, heavy mess of water and slowed motion.

She cursed, trying to wade towards Athrun, her voice cracking with fear. "Epstein! Someone, help!"

And hollering for help as loudly as she could, Cagalli pulled and tugged, wading backwards to lift his head out of water, feeling his body float up as she desperately kissed his lips. She began trying to bring air into him without realising that she wasn't even facing him the right way. His face was still perfect, without any human expression on it. It was curiously, really, how peaceful and at ease he seemed it this state of partial death.

To any observer, the entire scene would have been akin to Ophelia's suicide, pale and lifeless, floating in a stream of her own death and madness. Cagalli breathed deeply, trying to calm herself and get to Athrun in time.

She pulled apart his shirt desperately, ripping its buttons from the slots in her panic, trying to locate some kind of wound somewhere that had made him lose consciousness in the water. In her mind, she was still sure that Athrun had come home wounded like before, and he had probably fainted in the bathroom.

But he was cold, more beautiful than she had ever recalled, his skin like marble and milk without wound or gash, his lips slightly blue and parted because she needed him to take her air. Puzzled, she pulled off his shirt completely, still trying to resuscitate him, but found nothing that would have explained his sudden unconsciousness and subsequent sinking into the water.

She inhaled air again, and almost viciously, kissed him and hit his chest hard at the same time.

Then Athrun coughed suddenly, his eyes opening in shock. He coughed again, water spilling from his mouth, and his dazed expression began to clear a little. He mouthed something she could not hear. But Cagalli froze all the same when she thought she knew whose name he had murmured.

Her dress was heavy in the warm bath water, no longer smooth and elegant but ballooning at the sides like a comical cabbage. Her hair was wet because it was at waist-length, and her hands still gripping at his shoulders and face, Cagalli's face crumbled and a tear fell onto his cheek. He would not feel it, she thought distractedly, not when he was already soaked.

Slowly, painfully, he brought a hand up to what must have been an inversion of her face as she gazed over him, touching the side of her damp face.

"Why did you do it?" She whispered. Even in that moment, Cagalli knew, deep inside her, that he had done something so awful- so unspeakable that he had given up all hope.

The water cast lights around them, and how lovely he looked, she thought brokenly, in this soft light. He was a child that had been ejected from the water, raised to air once more, and there was a knowing, pathetic blindness to his sight that made her want to weep.

"Why did you do it?" He asked her back, his voice hoarse with pain.

But then, Epstein burst in with the maids, and Athrun looked towards them while lying backwards in the water, still a bit dazed. As Cagalli parted herself from him and began to pull her way out of the water, feeling utterly miserable, she looked at the aides and saw that they did not understand what had just happened.

The maids were guiding her out of the bathroom while Epstein helped Athrun up, not even checking his master for wounds, just as Cagalli had. Epstein was far too distracted to think that anything untoward his master had happened. In fact, he was staring at Athrun with slight doubt, looking at Cagalli's ripped hem, the obviousness of her missing earring she must have lost in the water, and her shaken expression.

Athrun did not look at her even when she turned her head around as she was being led out.

The maids were bewildered, for she could see it in their mystified expressions. Epstein had not really understood either, since they had probably been alerted to their master's room by her shouting, only to find Athrun and her having a bit of a bath while being fully-dressed.

Cagalli knew that neither Athrun nor Epstein would ask and tell of what had happened.

Nor could Cagalli find the words to tell the aides that their master had tried and almost succeeded in drowning himself.

She was far too shaken to say this; too flustered at what she'd witnessed and experienced, far too broken by what she had heard him mutter.

All she felt was that awful, sinking feeling that now returned to her as she was led, by means of the main entrance and another corridor, back to her room. In her room, she dismissed the maids with a wave of her hand, shaking her head mutely when they tried to dry her. She still could not speak.

Alone, Cagalli tried, with trembling fingers, to peel off the wet, ruined dress and change into something to regain a semblance of normality. The dress Athrun had given her sagged on the floor, miserable and damp, staining the carpet. She had lost an earring too, and with how things were going, it was probably at the base of the bath or even down a pipe by now.

She pulled out a dress, took a look at it, and then discarded it. She reached in again, pulled out another, and then yanked out another before finally settling on the midnight coloured one. With a great deal of effort, Cagalli dried herself and got into the dress, sitting before her vanity and trying to apply some lipstick.

She smudged it because her hands were still trembling, and cursing, she bent closer to the mirror, her shoulders shivering even though it wasn't particularly cold. Tremblingly, she threw aside the tube she was trying to grip, and unsteadily, she swept some things off the table in a fluid motion of desperation.

A cry ripped itself from Cagalli's throat as she looked into the mirror properly, not at her lips or the gargantuan display of will it had taken for her to even hold the lipstick to her mouth.

This time, she looked into her own eyes and the pain in them articulated what she had been unable to verbalise. The woman looking back at her had long, golden hair and a pale face.

It was her, but Athrun had seen Lyra Delphius instead.

3 months. 0 days.