The Isle

by puzzlepuzzle

In the aftermath of the Second War, Athrun Zala vanished without a trace for seven years - Cagalli never thought to find him. But fate deviates when he comes to find her himself and a web of desire and deceit lies before them. Original Cover Art SEQUEL OUT. .

20. Chapter 19

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

Oh and special mention to Cat with Butterflywings- he's done a great summary! Check out his review from the previous chapter!~

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Chapter 19

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As he walked in the hallways of the Second Eye's stronghold, Athrun saluted curtly to the other Eyes' primary aides who had gathered. His footsteps echoed grimly in the passageway and he was reminded of the first time he'd been here to meet all his colleagues.

Athrun had come to the Isle to leave Plant without the obligations he was accepted to follow. The High Council had summoned him after the Second War, ordering him to report as a member in a month's time.

The footsteps he took were heavy ones.

He had tried all means possible to refuse this, but what had come was inevitable. He knew what Zaft and Plant's Supreme Council thought of him, and he had no way of speaking out to change that.

Patrick Zala's son, brilliant but vulnerable to those with persuasive powers and corrupt ideology, had defected from ZAFT twice. It was time to ensure he would never be used as a tool in another war again. What better way than to make him join the Supreme Council, where the highest authorities could keep him in control? Every decision he'd make would be scrutinised and open to criticism by the Supreme Council's members.

But Athrun had resisted this. He had fled to Orb, wanting nothing except to meet the only person he ached to see. So Athrun had caught the next shuttle out to Orb, applying for a citizenship there by forgoing his Plant citizenship, and Amagi had settled him into a job as an Orb admiral. As the days went by, it was obvious that Cagalli was unwilling to meet him.

Finally, he had left. Athrun gazed numbly at the hallway extending before him. The aides would not enter until the last Eye had. He was probably the last to arrive- all the aides, including Epstein, were lined along the hallways, each one saluting to every Eye who entered.

There had only been Plant to return to. Yet, Plant and Zaft had other plans for him. The Secret Intelligence Council, otherwise known as the Numbers, had sent their representative forward to him. Yzak Joule, on behalf of the Numbers, had offered him a new identity and a re-written history, along with the eventual freedom from his crimes of defection and outstanding obligations to Plant and Zaft. All Athrun had to do was to agree to teach Erlich Cleamont how to pilot and kill.

For Athrun, the new identify was not a bonus, it was a necessity. He had agreed, unable to return to Orb or to an empty house in Aprilius which his parents had left behind. He'd chosen a place where he'd try and hopefully, be able to forget her.

The place had been the Fifth Isle. There were others of course, but collectively, the place was known as the Isle.

At present, the Eyes sat in their numbered order within Lent's meeting room- Lent Mortimer, Barnett Romia, Alstarice Krieg, Rune Estragon, Sheba Velasco, Tom Edgeworth, Leopold Wasser, and Orlick Churchill. The first seat however, was empty- Sanders Gargery and all his aides had been dead for quite some time.

Athrun was feeling incredibly constricted between the heady perfume Sheba wore and the glower Alstarice was shooting at him.

Rather good-looking and a smooth-talker with his dark hair and mocha colouring, Alstarice had been undercover as a businessman for quite some time. He'd only returned recently to the Isles and the Eyes were thus meeting to collate their findings, as they usually did every week.

Rather like a club meeting, Athrun thought with some black humour, except that each person in this room had killed or caused deaths before.

Their primary aides sat behind each Eye, and similarly, Epstein sat behind Rune Estragon. The secondary aides were never present at meetings, but it was crowded enough.

Their aides did not speak unless they were called to present information. A strict hierarchy existed within the group of intelligencers Plant had used- after all, every one of them had been part of Zaft at one point or the other.

As the Second Eye, Lent was chairing the meeting.

"It's the usual report." Alstarice said, his brow furrowed. "Sweden's a huge mess because Orb's knocking on their doorway, and both sides are preparing for war."

"Plant?" Lent inquired.

"Preparing to step in while pretending to not have a real interest in this. They got immunity from the Galactic courts' inquiries. Figures." Tom said archly.

Lent frowned a little. "The numbers have been asking if we've made headway on the drug companies Greyfriars has been keeping contact with, and whether we know the chemical structure."

Barnett stood up, her usual girly dresses replaced by her uniform today. Looking around at the eight aides and the eight Eyes present, Athrun realised that more than half were red-coats. For him, Lent, Sheba and Leopold, they wore FAITH insignias. The elite of Zaft had been picked for the Isles.

The Numbers would be calling soon, and Athrun could feel the room become tenser.

"We already know about the chemical structure." Barnett reported. She was not really a soldier by training and the formalities of speech escaped her, as did her sloppy posture when she stood. Still, she had been roped into Zaft because they needed her to work with Tom and Leopold, weapon specialists. "Any normal amount of inhalation would be good enough to cause death- if not, serious brain damage. The powder can be reduced to a very fine state with no problem."

She turned behind. Her primary aide who was sitting behind her handed her a suitcase. As Barnett opened it, the Eyes all bent closer to have a look. The original vial they'd gotten from Mullin's suitcase was half empty because Barnett had used half to test and confirm the drug's chemical structure. Now, the Eyes could reproduce it if they were asked to.

Lent turned to Alstarice worriedly. "What about the companies making these?"

"Settled." Alstarice laughed. "The drug companies took very little persuasion once I suggested that we all benefit from kickbacks together. So currently, we're producing what you obtained from Mullin's suitcase, but the production's under me."

He grinned winsomely. "That means we're currently making a drug that is about as useful as flu-panadol for a broken leg."

"Good job." Lent said mildly. "Sending you to make a mess of the production was the right thing to do."

"Well, I'm as good as the Fifth Eye, I'll have you know that." Alstarice said with a hint of smugness.

Alstarice's lap was suddenly invaded by Boarbaki's massive head, who whined a little until Tom reached over a few laps and prodded him with a long stick. Alstarice's pleasant, slightly arrogant face turned into a distinctively irritated one as Boarbaki drooled. The scene made Athrun laugh under his breath.

"Shall I bring Boarbaki out, sir?" Lucretzia Nombre, Tom's primary aide spoke up softly. Athrun looked at her and he knew that the room had the atmosphere of death. Even Sheba looked unnerved as the beautiful, doll-like girl with bluish-black raised her eyes to regard them all, yellow like a snake's in a pale white face. Even out of her usual black maid's outfit and in her green uniform, she looked distinctively non-human.

Certainly, the other Eyes did not like to borrow her even if feminine wiles sometimes got the job done fast. Athrun had borrowed her from Tom and sent her to seduce Don Mithall to get control of his steel empire, and Lucretzia had proved why it had been equivalent to slapping a death warrant on Mithall's forehead.

Lucretzia was surely an insane person who was so unstable that it was a wonder Tom could control her. Hideki Clarriker, Sheba's primary aide, was a tall, strapping young man with hay-coloured hair and sitting next to her, ad he'd purportedly taken down twenty people alone with a chainsaw. Sheba had trained him herself, which meant he was probably able to stomach anything. Still, Hideki looked slightly nauseous with fear as he glanced at the Seventh Eye's aide.

"No, Lu," Tom chirped happily, turning behind to look at Lucretzia. He was apparently oblivious to how disturbed the other Eyes and primary aides felt. "He'll whine if he's away from me."

Lent spoke up with an ease that showed his control over his colleagues and their subordinates. Miles Summon, his primary aide, handed him a file that he flipped through. "I've like to know from the Fifth Eye about the weapon-production and the raw-material factories."

"Same," Athrun answered. "The production line has been fixed so that the firms have already gone bankrupt under a business partner of mine. I'm currently balancing the books so it's hidden, but the weapons that were ordered are certainly not going to get to Scandinavia.

"What about Greyfriars and his clowns?" Tom asked hastily.

"He's in a risky position." Athrun said, looking directly at everyone who sat before him. "The power struggles within the faction are going on, and Greyfriars is losing control of his supporters. They had a major power struggle some time before this-,"

"I heard you got shot in the shoulder?" Barnett said concernedly.

Athrun nodded. "Some of his followers thought he was moving too slowly and sacrificing too many of them. There was a shoot-out and I protected him to gain his trust."

That day, he'd returned to the Manor, sending everyone else away and not wanting Cagalli to see him in a weakened state. More than that, Athrun had been fighting the desire to shoot Greyfriars himself, but he'd protected someone he hated intensely for the Numbers' purposes. He had been ill with guilt, remorse and even self-loathing, and the fever had addled his thoughts. Cagalli however, had stubbornly refused to leave him alone and had ended up tending to his wound that night.

"But it's unlikely that they will usurp him." Athrun told them. "He is still someone they respect deeply."

"What about your position within the group?" Lent asked.

"Right now, I'm his right-hand man." Athrun said this emotionlessly.

"I heard you slit the former right-hand man's throat?" Alstarice asked diffidently. Athrun ignored the question, because he didn't want to explain anything about Lyra's death at Charles Purcell's hands.

"Greyfriars is actually feeling the pressure that some of his supporters are putting on him." Athrun announced. "They want him to deal with the problems that Sweden has forced on them for so long. But that means bringing forward the impending war between Orb and Scandinvia."

"From the looks of it," Lent muttered, "Earth Alliance is going to be supporting its territory. It probably wants to take Orb a notch down because if Orb wins this war against Earth Alliance's territory, its other territories will wonder what the hell they re doing with Earth Alliance when Orb is more powerful anyway.

Lent looked at all of them meaningfully. "Besides, Orb has been collecting Earth Alliance territories for some time, and lots of little countries want to come under Orb. I don't think the Earth Alliance wants to encourage that by letting Scandinavia lose, which it probably will if it goes to war with Orb. "

"Returning back to the Danish terrorists," Churchill said heavily, "If Greyfriars wants to bring the war forward, I don't think Rune alone can convince him not to. Right-hand man or not, Rune doesn't have much support with Greyfriars' supporters, even if he has their head honcho's stamp of approval."

"I agree," Athrun said firmly. "Their plans have always been premised on Cagalli Yula Atha's death for their cause. Frankly, I'm worried that Greyfriars will give an order for me to produce her. Either that or his supporters may start howling for him to ask me to do that. When that happens, I don't think I can fend off all of them from entering my stronghold."

"I intend to propose to the Numbers that if Greyfriars and the group reacts aggressively, we'll reveal ourselves and retaliate," Lent said, nodding at Athrun, "It's about time that we stop pretending to be rich people who got sent here along with the rest of those rotten bastards."

Athrun smiled ironically, thinking of the people at Rochesters' party.

As the protector of the Fifth Isle, Athrun had often wondered if every wound he'd sustained in these people's interest was worth it. To have people like Lady Rochestor, drug tycoons, corrupted politicians and all kinds of scum here, in a holiday resort! Having to protect them made him nauseous.

But then, he'd been dealing with it for nearly seven years now, and he'd continue to do so until Plant and Zaft discharged him of his duty. Athrun shook his head slightly, concentrating on Orlick Churchill, who was now reporting.

"Maybe we'll test it out." Churchill said. "If the Fifth Eye can try bringing her to a minor islet somewhere, we'll see how Greyfriars reacts. We can gauge what we need to do to neutralise that group down."

"Wait, wait," Alstarice said hastily, looking back at Lent. He was still unaware of many events that had occurred while he'd been away, Athrun realised. "Go back to that suggestion. If the Fifth Eye takes her away to an islet, what makes you think that she won't try to escape from there?"

Lent paused, and then, he looked at Sheba, who appeared a bit tense.

They spoke together at the same time. "She won't."

A third and fourth voice had spoken in unison with theirs- Epstein's and Toms.

Then the four of them looked at each other, pausing and realising their mistake.

Alstarice spoke for the rest of them in the room, his voice puzzled. "Are you four thinking of something that we're not following?"

Epstein kept his mouth shut because an aide did not speak when his superior spoke. He had no desire to seek death by telling the truth either- Athrun was shooting him a look that suggested that he keep his mouth shut.

"Er-," Lent began with Tom looking flustered, but Sheba was more adept at this and cut to it.

She crossed her arms. "The Orb Princess has shown herself to be mostly innocuous. Removed from Orb, she's nothing more than a simple girl who's come to rely on the Fifth Eye for survival."

"Plausible." Alstarice muttered, and his exceptionally fine hands beat a tattoo against the wood. "I guess we'll have to ask the Numbers what to do now."

Tom said nothing, although his expression was dark. Barnett was busy with Boarbaki, who had wandered to her and had as usual, laid his head in her lap and was looking at her with a look of complete adoration.

Then a phone, set in the middle of the long table, began to ring.

The aides began to file out of the room, as was the procedure.

By the third ring, all the aides had vanished, and the nine Eyes sat tensely, watching the screen that had sprung up to cater to all angles.

A council of their superiors sat before them, the screen flickering a little in horizontal stripes of light. All wore visors that shielded their faces partially, especially their eyes- this was the symbol and standard gear of Plant's Secret Intelligence Council, otherwise known as the Numbers.

Each one had numbers on their visors, and there were twelve in total. The Numbers had been selected to represent Plant, although there were less than three members of the Supreme Council in it- this council was secret even to most of the Plant Supreme Council members, including Lacus Clyne.

Athrun, with the rest, stood. They saluted in perfect unison.

"At ease." The Numbers' head said imperiously.

The Eyes took their seats, but none looked relaxed.

"Report."

Lent, the Second Eye, began to speak. His voice was authoritative and their superiors listened, nodding, one or two interrupting occasionally with questions.

Sheba was questioned on the recent developments within the Swedish Palace. She could offer nothing, because all the guards had been asked to leave with only a few remaining. The Swedish Palace had been in a state of paranoia ever since the Crown Princess' kidnapping, and the guards that remained were all hand picked. Unfortunately, Sheba had not been allowed to stay and creeping back into the palace was impossible.

Leopold and Tom faced inquiries about the new shipments that the Fifth Eye had sent to the Seventh and Eighth Isle on schedule. The refugees would be scheduled to be sent to Plant in the next three days.

"Be careful now," Superior One warned. Her voice was very worried. "We don't want the sending of the refugees to Plant to be known to anyone at all."

"No, Ma'am." Leopold and Tom stood to salute.

Eventually, Athrun was questioned about the businesses he had acquired and how much he had spent doing it. Nothing turned the world like money, he thought drolly, even for rich-to-the-ears Plant. And of course, the questions turned to the Orb Princess.

"Is she doing well?" Superior Nine asked.

Athrun nodded, "Yes. She has no way of escaping the Isle until we decide that it is time to let her return."

He did not bother to explain that she was emotionally bonded to him and was unlikely to leave after having promised she would stay by his side. Superior Seven too, was not about to offer information on that.

"Fine. Keep it that way." Superior Eleven said as the other Numbers nodded.

When the meeting was over, and the screen minimised with a 'bleep' of weariness, the Eyes sank back into their chairs, exhausted and drained. Alstarice was the first to sweep his files up, grinning to them and saying that he had to be out of the Isle in a bit.

They nodded to him, each one preparing to leave too. As they did, Leopold stretched and asked idly. "The Orb Princess is twenty-five this year, no?"

"Yes. Why?" Barnett asked, rubbing Boarbaki's head as Tom came to stand next to her. From where he was, Athrun stood slowly, avoiding anyone's eye, particularly Lent and Sheba's. Epstein was standing too, and Epstein as always, kept his mouth shut.

"Because the Orb Council of Elders were intending to see her get married by the end of this year." Leopold said offhandedly. "Someone, somewhere out there, is one lucky bastard who's going to get her and the kind of power her name commands."

"He's James Marlin," Tom said casually. "The Britannian Premier."

"Why him?" Barnett wondered.

Athrun said nothing, pretending to be busy while Sheba and Lent did the same. All three remained silent while Churchill began explaining the political issues to Barnett. She lived in her own world of atom and nuclear physics and knew little outside Plant and The Isles. But it was just as well, Athrun thought to himself. Barnett would be better off not knowing of the intrigue and political plots that went on everywhere.

As a woman, Cagalli had known that there would always be a glass ceiling. Athrun had been aware of this ever since she'd given him half of her and he'd realised that her insecurities were making her deny her femininity.

"I heard that she was going to be married to one of the fellow Nobles," Tom ventured. "But he died during the Second War."

When Cagalli had been a child, her father had pledged her to the Seiran's son, probably because he wanted to control the Seirans and to use their power for his own purposes. The Council of Elders had agreed, mostly because they cared little to discuss his daughter.

"It's the usual for females, I suppose." Churchill said gruffly. "Although it seems like a waste for someone as intelligent as her to have to marry some random male. I wonder if the Council of Elders in Orb expected her to turn out as a politician at all."

In the past, the Council of Elders had simply assumed that Lord Atha had only wanted a child for company and to continue his reign for a while more. That, and his love of spiting the seemed to explain his selection of a girl and his reluctance to trade the child in for a more ideal male heir.

They had simply assumed that nobody related to Uzumi Nara Atha would have thought of going into politics. It would have been like a mere cub trying to best its father.

And really, if Cagalli Yula Atha was unlikely to be deeply involved in politics, the Council of Elders did not care who she married per say, as long as her husband was of good breeding stock. That, after all, was the Council of Elders' duty still.

Of course, the irony was that Cagalli had proven to be as influential a politician as her father, if not, even more.

She had turned out to be worse to handle than her father- she was as stubborn as a mule, and she broke rules and traditions that had been long established by the Council of Elders. In fact, she was privy to writing her own rules, the way her father had.

"Hey, didn't the Freedom crash Orb Princess' wedding during the Second War?" Tom asked loudly.

Athrun's lips quirked, although he kept his head down.

The idea of abandoning a political marriage with the Seiran scion- shocking! Returning to claim supreme commandership after causing the Council of Elders's plans to be shelved- unheard of!

"Yeah," Orlick grunted. "Stupid fellow anyway- that Seiran fellow made some pretty bad decisions for Orb.

Clearly, the Second War had ushered in so many revelations and surfaced so many inherent traits of the Atha child that the Council of Elders's plans for her were moot. She would not be so easy to brush aside and to ignore- this child was too well-loved and respected by the people.

"Hey, Rune!" Tom called over. "Is the Orb Princess clever? I heard her father trained her to be the killer politician that she reportedly is."

Uzumi Nara Atha had been carefully grooming his heir since she was a child, unbeknownst to anyone, perhaps even Cagalli herself. She had been educated well in politics and had a firm grasp of how to control the workings of the country and the economy.

Athrun looked over, keeping his face blank. "Yes."

Tom whistled. "Some people do have it all."

With her clout and charisma, the people respected her and obeyed her. With her beauty, youth, and that strange, indefinable agelessness of her face, they actually loved her. The Council of Elders could not pull her down from where she sat now- they had neither the political power or the ability to turn the people against her when the people were so deeply set in the idea of the Orb Princess being their pillar.

"Well," Barnett considered thoughtfully, her hand beneath her chin, "You tell me she's very popular with the people. So even if there were many other candidates from other Noble Houses, I have a feeling she'd still win. It's been that way for quite some time, no?"

Uzumi had bound her in a promise she could never break, sealed by his death. And if she could not abdicate, Cagalli Yula Atha would never let go of Orb's reins until the day she died.

"Maybe that's why the Elders have been pushing her to get married," Tom chirped. He shrugged, looking over at Athrun, who really did not want to be there but still wanted to listen to them talking. "Hey, Rune! Did she mention anything about getting married?"

"Yes." Athrun said, straight-faced. He was all too aware of Lent and Sheba pretending to drink coffee at the other side of the room. Their gaze was watchful and their eyes were boring at his back.

To avoid giving up Orb's power that her father had entrusted to her, Cagalli Yula Atha would have to marry. Eventually, she would have children and a new line of leaders would be ushered in.

Perhaps, the biggest blow to the Council of Elders was that the Seirans had collapsed. Now, the Orb Council of Elders had to deal with arranging potential suitors for the Orb Princess, something they found problematic with her prickly ways and stubborn character. Also, because the last Noble family in Orb with potential male suitors had been wiped out, Orb's power would have to be shared with someone outside it.

"But the Elders are quite clever." Sheba said very suddenly, walking towards them to join in the conversation that Athrun wasn't really part of. "If the Orb Princess had to marry an outsider, why not one that could benefit Orb?"

She gazed at Athrun, who held it firmly but then dropped it first.

Cagalli, aware of how the Council of Orb viewed her, aware of how influential they were, aware of how they could pull her down with the law even if the people were on her side, had agreed to their wishes.

Athrun smiled wryly, realising that Cagalli had been even more intelligent than he had given her credit for. It increased his admiration of her, but it increased his frustration as well. Quietly, Sheba left the room, Lent following her.

The other Eyes were still talking about Cagalli Yula Atha and Orb's politics, and Athrun remained silent, still flipping through his files idly.

"Well, as the Council of Elders in Orb has basically summarised," Tom concluded loudly for Barnett, "If the Orb Princess doesn't want to abdicate, she has to go forth and multiply. How bee-like."

"But what if she doesn't fancy anyone?" Barnett objected. She looked innocently at Tom, who coloured a little.

Athrun watched them all quietly.

"I didn't think of that." Tom considered.

Barnett shrugged indifferently, callous because of her ignorance and general lack of care for anything except her work and her love of chemistry. "Neither did I."

"Well, who's going to care about what the Orb Princess thinks?" Leopold concluded impatiently.

---

The phone rang. Once, twice, a third time.

In his study room, Athrun breathed in deeply, feeling a little worse for wear. Perhaps he had been doing too much these days. Or perhaps it was the thought of those years slipping by without him being able to be with Cagalli. He'd had to entrust her to Shinn Asuka, hoping that she'd be safe that way.

As far as Athrun could objectively judge, Cagalli had not even the slightest hint of romantic feelings for the young soldier who'd spat in her face and called her a hypocrite. Shinn had done that because of the anger he'd harboured towards her father and by extension, her. She'd probably made up with Shinn over time and they'd understood each other better, but that was where Athrun's objectivity ended.

Simply put, Athrun was suddenly aware of something he hadn't even predicted, much less considered a risk. It probably wasn't even anything, Athrun reasoned, but he felt doubt worm its way into his thoughts. Cagalli's instinct for picking up others' feelings around her was lacking, if not entirely absent, and Athrun wanted to be sure that Shinn Asuka hadn't overstepped his duty.

But to be fair, Athrun reasoned, since when had he been a perfect soldier himself? He ran a hand tiredly over his face. And even if Shinn and Cagalli had gotten close or even if they'd even started a relationship or had three children in secret, as unlikely as that really was, who was Athrun to interfere?

"You're a nut job, Athrun Zala." He muttered to himself. "She's not even yours. She's cheating on her fiancé in a way that you allowed for. She doesn't feel guilty because she doesn't love you the way she loves Marlin! And here you are, concerned about the guy you sent in over in the first place! What's it to you, you silly ass?"

But he couldn't help it. He had to know. He just wanted to know. He shook his head inwardly. He glanced down at the number he'd scribbled. Had Shinn Asuka changed his address yet again?

The phone rang again, and Athrun waited as patiently as he could.

Then suddenly, the familiar voice was saying in a muffled voice, "Hello."

"It's me." Athrun said brusquely. "How have you been?"

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. Athrun did not blame him. After all, the last time he'd called had been more than a year ago.

"Fine. Spit it out quickly, unless it's another one of those favours. And I don't owe you anything anymore." Shinn's voice sounded a little gruff, as it always had when he was flustered. "And by the way, it's an ungodly hour over here in Panama."

Athrun frowned a little, thinking of hats with triangular patterns for no real reason at all. "Tell me about the time you spent as her bodyguard."

There was a pause on the other end that Athrun imagined to be awkward. Then Shinn's voice rose a notch. "Look, I'm not sure why you're calling him in the middle of the night and asking for a report I gave almost a year ago. In case you haven't noticed, Mister, I don't do overtime when I'm not even working for Zaft anymore. That was a favour I owed you, and I think I've done enough."

"Just answer my question." Athrun said curtly. "You had feelings for her, didn't you?"

Again, there was silence. Athrun gritted his teeth, his fists tightening. He didn't know why he was so affected by it. But the thought of Cagalli, helpless because of her ignorance, and the way she must have relied on Shinn to protect her even if she wasn't fully conscious of it, sent shards of envy into him.

"Look," Shinn finally replied. "You're being a bit funny here. You need to be less of a hothead and think rationally."

"I don't need you to tell me that." Athrun said sharply. Funny how the roles had reversed, he thought drolly. But Shinn cut the tension by breaking into laughter suddenly.

"You know," Shinn said thoughtfully, "I think I did develop feelings for her."

Athrun rubbed his temple with his hands dully. "I should have expected it."

"Well, not really feelings," Shinn explained, "Just, you know, just the general kind of empathy you might expect after having us together in the same place for some time. I began to appreciate what she was doing and what she put herself through for Orb, and I began to admire her. Alright, maybe my feelings were going to develop into a crush- or were on the verge of, actually. But hey-,"

Athrun could almost imagine Shinn shrugging. "She's an admirable woman, you've got to give that her. I did feel protective of her, I admit. In private, she's a lot less strong than I imagined she'd be. I suppose I gave her the vibes that I was interested, which isn't that far off in a sense. It didn't help that Atha found out that Luna wasn't even in Orb but in Panama."

Athrun's tone was a little less confrontational. "So what?"

"So she kinda asked me to leave." Shinn told him. "In a very casual manner, she told me she didn't really need a bodyguard and she felt like I was wasting my youth by tagging her all over and pretending to look really threatening with shades." He laughed. "Okay, she didn't say the last bit but that's how I felt anyway, what with me hulking around her on a daily basis."

"I understand. "Athrun said guiltily, thinking of his own days as Alex Dino and the general use of shades.

"So I knew she wasn't going to have me around anymore so that's when I called you up and told you I'd done enough right? And at that time, you told me that it was good enough to, because you didn't need surveillance anymore." Shinn's voice was becoming annoyed again.

"Right." Athrun said brittly.

"Althought I think I may have really liked her if I'd stayed on." Shinn mused. "She's a better cook than she looks. And she's quite clever, despite how she looks."

Athrun permitted himself to roll his eyes because Shinn wouldn't see him. "People who look more than half-decent aren't necessarily lacking in the brains department, Shinn."

"I know," Shinn covered a yawn badly. "She's pretty, actually. I've always thought so but I always disliked her for that. I thought of her as one of those empty-headed, well-brought up girls who didn't know how to cross the road without their entourage leading her across the hand. Atha really surprised me. She's quite cool if I'm forced to say so. But she's actually kinda nervous around people."

"Nervous you say," Athrun inquired. "I'm not sure what qualifies the statement."

"It was quite obvious that I was getting familiar with her," Shinn told him straightforwardly. "I knew what she liked to eat, when she liked to eat, what weather she often found herself sleepy in, what colours she tended to be fond of. All that sort of things- it came after working with her."

Shinn paused for breath, thinking how to express himself. "When she realised that we were actually really good friends, she got a bit jumpy around me, like she wasn't willing to have me know these things about her. And at first I thought it was just me, but then I realised that she was like that with others, except a few. Like she was afraid to let people get close to her even if she got along well and people usually liked her."

Athrun kept silent, thinking how true this was. He hadn't sensed this when Cagalli had revealed a little of her past experience with Shinn as her bodyguard. Instead, he'd misinterpreted her awkwardness as a form of being emotionally affected by Shinn. But in fact, as Shinn had observed, Cagalli had been hesitant to talk about it because she was probably and instinctively aware of her insecurities.

Athrun couldn't blame her for that, because she'd suffered so much and even had her ideals betrayed for it. When she'd killed with her own hands, a little part of her had died with the person.

"Come to think of it," Shinn said distractedly, sounding like he had just gotten up from bed which was probably true, "I should have been expecting your call. When Kira Yamato calls suddenly, you can be sure Athrun Zala will too."

"What?" Athrun's voice was stunned. "What would he call you for?"

"He wanted a full blow-by-blow of my stint as Cagalli Yula Atha's bodyguard," Shinn told him a little blearily. "Not sure why he wanted it, the way you want me to tell you what was really going on then. But in his case, he wanted to know if any attempts had been made on her life while I'd worked for her."

"And what did you say?"

"I'm not an idiot," Shinn said sharply. "Of course I didn't mention anything about the car doors being fixed and the pick pocketing incident. Nor did I talk about how they tried to bug her house by staging some random burglary. Or all those minor little incidents you were part of. And certainly not the one at the construction site, whre the crane's load nearly collapsed on her. He didn't know about all that, and he probably won't ever know. He basically thought I was a cold trail."

Athrun breathed a sigh of relief.

"But Kira was very clever you know. He asked all the right questions and even whether she'd spoke about you to me during that time. It was fairly obvious he was trying to find a link to who she might have left with willingly. Like Kira said, the letters sounded as if she'd been fairly composed when she was writing. There were only a few people she was truly at ease with, as Kira claimed. I suppose he was hinting at you."

"What did you say when he asked that?" Athrun demanded.

"I told him that she seemed to have clean forgotten about you. But that was true." Shinn said straightforwardly. "Atha never even mentioned you once to me. Whenever I visited and had a look around the place, I never even found anything of yours behind."

Athrun nodded, relieved but a little stung at the same time. At this point, Athrun thought of Cagalli. If he had ever thought of Cagalli as a woman, now he realised that he had been marking her as his woman. There had always been a certain amount of possessiveness he dealt out with his things, but when it came to her, he found that he wanted to do more than possess her. He wanted her to possess him in return.

"And then Kira asked if she'd had any strange moments. I just told him the truth about that one."

"What kind of strange moments?" Athrun questioned.

Shinn paused. "Actually, I'm not sure if you'd call them strange. It's just that she never wanted to carry a gun on her. Each time I asked her to carry one for security, she'd very reluctantly agree to. Her hands would shake every time she loaded a gun, I noticed. She loaded the gun wrongly on quite a few occasions, despite her being quite familiar with the way magazines work."

"Yes, you've told me before." Athrun remembered. That had been how he knew Cagalli was likely to load the gun wrongly when he'd been on the SS Rafael that night. Also, he'd seen her trembling as she'd loaded the gun on the deck, and he'd known right away that she was doing it wrongly.

"I thought she was quite experienced with this stuff, but it turns out she was nervous around these weapons. I had to keep checking every time we made public appearances that her gun was loaded correctly. But then you know this already, don't you? I told you before when I was giving you those weekly reports."

"That's true," Athrun said, recalling the trauma Cagalli had gone through and suffered from even years after her recovery, "Was that all?"

"No," Shinn answered. "Like stranger things- like-," He fought to find the words, "The way she was always alone even when she didn't have to be. Like how she'd pretend she had something on every time someone or even some close friends asked her to hang out with them."

"Was it fear of some accident happening?" Athrun inquired.

"No, not that. It was like she was afraid of forging bonds, and I never thought she'd be that sort of person. Her confidence in the past seemed to have been hollowed by the time I met her." His voice dropped a little. "Maybe it was my fault. I guess that's when I tried to be more understanding and sympathetic and I eventually found out that she was a really good person."

Athrun closed his eyes, wondering how Shinn had matured, wondering when the boy had become this person he was speaking to. And in a far gentler tone, Athrun said, "I'm sorry for disturbing your sleep."

"Take it that you owe me one," Shinn said matter-of-factly. "And I wish both of you well, even if you're not likely to pass that message on to her from me."

Athrun chuckled a little, then smiled wanly, cutting the line.

---

When he arrived back in the Manor, Athrun headed for the hall where Ko was training. It was not really a hall, he thought abstractly, more of an empty space for at least ten to spar comfortably.

He saw two figures in the distance, charging at each other, their wooden weapons with rounded blade-ends coming at each other. Cagalli and Ko, dressed in simple shifts, were leaping towards each other, and Athrun leaned back into the pillar, watching.

The smaller figure was more agile and well-trained, that was obvious. Ko was very good at deflection, bouncing off his intended track each time Cagalli tried to intercept him.

But Cagalli had the advantage of determination and stamina that Ko had not built up to yet. She dove at him each time he lunged aside, and then, their weapons clashed and his flew into the air and he yelped, a puppy's voice.

Immediately, she flung aside her own sword and pulled him into her arms, kneeling and searching his face anxiously. "Did I do anything?"

Their weapons rolled away, hollow and wooden.

"No," He assured her quickly. "Nothing at all. I was just surprised."

His face broke into a cherubic grin and with relief, she ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead in a flurry of affection. Ko hugged her back trustingly and she giggled, squeezing him like a teddy-bear while he squealed and laughed.

Athrun watched from afar. Cagalli was holding the boy, crouching and gazing up at him, and Athrun thought that her posture was both protective and loving. He felt something stir then tighten in him, and he knew that if Cagalli didn't love James Marlin, she would still find it in her to love a child that was born for power's sake.

"I was afraid I'd hurt you." Cagalli said to Ko, tugging his cheek a little.

"I was the one who asked you to spar with me." He said calmly, in his sweet, matter-of-factly voice. "My mother says I must practise with people who are better than I am so I can improve."

"Quite right." Athrun said, finally approaching them. They stared at him, Cagalli still kneeling, her hands around Ko's shoulders, and Ko standing proudly with whatever height he had at that age.

Athrun looked down at them, smiling. "Pepita's waiting for you to bring her for her walk."

Eagerly, the boy brightened up, picking up the weapon, putting it away in a small cupboard somewhere. He rushed off to find his canine friend.

But Cagalli watched, then slowly, got to her feet, staring at Athrun.

"How was your day?" She asked curiously. He'd been gone since yesterday's tea, not returning back for dinner. And now it was late afternoon.

"Fine."

"I see."

"And yours?"

"Fine."

"Was work-," She paused awkwardly. "Tough today?"

They were looking at each other. He did not have the heart or ability to tell her that today, he had seen his father in himself again. The willingness to sacrifice others for his own ends were present even in how Epstein lived and breathed.

No." He brushed aside her concern. "It was fine."

And even until today, Athrun did not really hate his father as much as wonder if he'd misunderstood Patrick Zala. In his mind, Athrun did not know of what was good or evil. His father had chosen genocide because his father had seen it as the best way to solve problems.

He gazed at Cagalli and thought of the portrait of his father in the basement of his study. His father had wanted Athrun to do so much for him, but Athrun had never even fulfilled anything once.

Cagalli looked at him innocently and he felt himself tense up. What would Athrun do? What could he do, if he had a choice at all?

If he acted on the instincts of self-preservation, there were two choices. He could either dispose of her, or keep her with him for eternity. But he was not sure he could manage either. And really, that was the problem. Cagalli would destroy him, no matter what.

Now, Athrun took her hand and wordlessly, led her where Ko had gone.

"Where are we going, exactly?" Cagalli asked hesitantly.

"For a walk with Ko and Pepita." Athrun answered. He looked at her, quickening his pace a little. "Around the Cliffside. That's where flowers bloom well. It's around the coastline and we'll get some fresh air and sea breeze."

She drew in a breath, realising that he was bringing her out of the Isle where she'd be able to see the sea. While Cagalli was not sure if it would help her identify the place, she was quite sure that nothing mattered where escape was concerned. She was far too intent on staying to be with Athrun; to solve the puzzle with his help and to crack the code of what made him the person he was.

Presently, Ko rushed back to them, Pepita barking around his heels. He had changed out from his training clothes and looked like a young boy again, in a simple shirt and three-quarter pants. His round eyes moved like fish in the pond of his face, darting everywhere as he beamed at them.

"Lead the way, Ko." Athrun said indulgently, stroking the boy's hair. Cagalli on his arm, he smiled at her, and joyfully, she leaned her head on his shoulder, moving forward with them.

The child took Athrun's hand, and the three of them, linked by their hands like ducks in a row, moved into a corridor and then turned a few corners. As they moved down the staircase that Cagalli did not seem to find familiar at all, she felt her heart beating fast.

It was a bit dark, and she shivered at the mustiness of the air and the steps that came below them. But Athrun's hand was guiding hers, and his with Ko's. Pepita, drawn to the nearly imperceptible light at the end of some tunnel, barked madly, running ahead of them.

"Here." She heard Ko say, and they emerged into the light, their shoes sinking into soft sand and salt whipping in the wind. Pepita was racing around in circles, and Ko whooped and threw his hands into the air, waving them to whoever cared to hear.

So they walked, leaving footprints behind them, four sets, with one set as two pairs of paws, frenzied in circles. The other three were steady tracks, although two were some distance behind the canine's and the child's.

Cagalli watched Ko racing with the puppy and said wistfully to Athrun, "He's a lovely child."

"Isn't he?" Athrun agreed gently. "Full of life and hope. Very different from his mother, I can't help but think. And he wants to protect her."

Ko was already in the distance, playing at the shoreline, running and collecting shells. She'd done that once, a very long time ago, and like Ko, she'd been carefree and without knowledge of true pain and misery.

"Harumi looks like a very strict person." Cagalli commented. "Although I could tell that she's considerably less severe with him."

"Parents are like that." He said indulgently. "Either too strict with their children, or too indulgent with them."

She chuckled. "I think my father alternated between both extremes."

Athrun's silence made her look at him. He was staring at the sea, deep in thought. Their hair blew in the strong winds, and she thought she saw turmoil in his eyes. The way he pursed his lips made her knew Athrun was troubled, and she wondered what she could do to take some of his burden onto her, whatever it was.

So Cagalli slipped her hand into his, not daring to look at him for approval. But his fingers tightened around hers, clasping her hand in his, and she knew he smiled as they walked, side by side.

---

Sheba was sitting on a couch in Lent's house, sipping at a glass. She took a long, leisurely sip, remarking, "Strange year, this one. Only the layers of aftertaste are distinct."

"Funny you should say that," Lent mused, "I bottled this in the year Rune came to the Isle."

"Really?" She looked at the wine in her glass, sipping a little more. "Curious."

"I started winemaking when I first arrived here with Sanders." Lent said. He adjusted his glasses a little. "It's my way of commemorating how we were all asked to come here."

She smiled a little, raising her glass, her expression wry. "Cheers to that."

"I was supposed to be Sanders' aide. But the Numbers decided to put in more people and to arrange another hierarchy within the Isles." Lent recalled, smiling sadly. "And that's how we ended up with Nine Eyes."

"Only because the volume of refugees coming in where far too many and far too frequent." Sheba said.

She set down the glass, pulling her hair out of its chignon and relaxing by sitting back. Her eyes regarded him dully. "I wonder how those who made it to Plant are doing."

"Number Ten told me they've been resettled," Lent informed her. "When I asked him, he said that those Coordinators are doing fine."

"I'm not sure about the Halfs here though," Sheba said slowly. "Plant's less than willing to take them in like that."

"Rune's been holding them in his mansion and then dispersing them to various of our Isles." Lent muttered. "He was ordered to make sure they got to other Isles on time for Tom and Leopold to shuttle them off to the Plants, but I know he takes them into his mansion and has their wounds tended and ensures they get a decent meal before they leave. He cares but he doesn't want anyone to think he does."

"I wouldn't blame him for being so standoffish though." Sheba said coolly. "To be frank, the Isle are a mess. When I first arrived here with you and Sanders, I was young and stupid to be excited about the new adventure and new life I'd have for a few years. You know, don't you? He and I were planning to get married after saving up."

"I understand," Lent told her morosely. "This place is really a cesspool. When we came, we were exempt from the First War precisely because it hadn't started yet. I really thought we were going to protect some really misunderstood Coordinators who were being persecuted by crazy Naturals in their countries. Turns out-" He laughed wryly.

"The first asylum-seekers are Coordinators who really deserved to die," Sheba said bitterly. "Every time I read their profiles and why they were forced to leave the Earth Alliance countries, I want to throw up. Drug-dealing, looting, corruption, white-collar crime, all of that to fund their ridiculous lives!"

"You know," Lent muttered, "If being a Coordinator is a sin, then it's ridiculous that these people are alive and we're protecting them for Plant with everything else these asylum-seekers did. In my opinion, it doesn't matter that the first asylum-seekers had their cells modified- it mattered that they were scum from the very start."

Five years before the First War, particular pockets of people all over the world were facing death threats and possibly persecution in their Earth Alliance countries.

Most, if not all of them, were Coordinators, and they were living largely and in states of unbelievable wealth. Lent reflected on this. It was true that being Coordinators made the Naturals hate them. But it was also the fact that these Coordinators were indulging in corruption-fuelled wealth that even Naturals would not accept amongst Naturals.

At that point however, these corrupted people being Coordinators had given the Naturals a reason to hate them. Because Plant hadn't wanted a Coordinator-Natural war to break out, it had arranged for an asylum for these persecuted Coordinators, despite the fact that these Coordinators had done intolerable things amongst Naturals anyway.

Lent shrugged. "I can't blame Plant for wanting to intervene though."

At that time, Plant, under Siegel Clyne, had been infinitely more peaceful. Plant had received the appeals of the persecuted Coordinators, who wanted to seek refuge in the Plants now. However, Plant hadn't been able to accept those appeals, for the Earth Alliance would have reacted adversely. Back then, Plant had also been trying to avoid a war, and mass-shipping Coordinators in Earth Alliance countries to space was just impossible.

"Besides, Plant couldn't openly offering refuge to Coordinators from Earth," Sheba reminded him. "Or every other Coordinator stuck back on Earth would havewanted to get to the Plants too. Plant simply had no way of taking all the Coordinator refugees into space. No way at all."

"That's why Plant had to use this place." Lent sighed. "They knew this place was entirely sealed off. Even the Earth Alliance and Scandinavia didn't know about it, and that's when Plant arranged for the persecuted Coordinators to come here."

"I hate the thought that I'm protecting people who deserve to be shot." Sheba muttered. "I think Rune hates that too."

"I understand your loathing of those Coordinators though." Lent replied. "Remember Rochestor?"

Sheba had a look of great dislike on her face. "She's still living large, despite the fact that she gave up her identity to come her. Her wealth is so immense she can afford the payment one needs to stay here on the Isle. She was one of the first to arrive here on the Fifth Isle, when it was still under Sanders.

"That was-," He paused, "Fifteen years ago. Gosh," He ran a hand through his hair. "I've really grown old."

Sheba smiled little. "Well, so have I." Her face darkened again. "But then those rich bastards can afford protection every year, even though they could just move out, now that the world is at peace with Coordinators again. I guess they are afraid to go out to their original countries and face their crimes. They'd rather fork out exorbitant sums to stay here under Plant's protection, because they can afford it anyway."

"Well, you can't expect Plant not to collect taxes from Coordinators they give protection to," Lent reminded her. "They are considered Plant citizens- well sort of, and citizens do have to pay taxes. At least, the money taken from these rich bastards every month adds to our pay, as well as the money Zaft's giving us for our salaries."

"I'm not sure if I need that money anymore." Sheba said dourly. "Sanders and I came here for the sake of a financially stable future, but that was ruined wasn't it? Our pay-checks weren't worth anything when he died."

"I'm not sure every Eye was attracted to the Isle for a far paycheck." Lent said soberly.

As the top soldiers of Zaft, each of the Eyes had come here for various different reasons.

Sanders Gargery had agreed to this because the pay was very good, and Sheba Velasco and Lent Mortimer had agreed because they were good friends of his. The three of them had been childhood friends.

It was true that when members of the Intelligence Council had approached their ideal candidates, most would agree because the job paid well and was purportedly to further their careers in Zaft. Orlick Churchill and Alstarice Krieg certainly had.

However, not everyone had willingly come here or left Plant and Zaft with exactly clean records.

After his eye-operation, Tom Edgeworth had been unable to get along with anyone in his unit. He'd been in depression after his operation, and the Zaft uppers had probably found it a waste to sack him. They'd reported his case to the Head General, who had eventually fired him.

Or so it had seemed. Tom had no family, and nobody really cared when he left Zaft.

Barnett Romia had been brought here with the promise that she'd have Plant's support for her biochemical research. She'd readily come, because research was all that mattered to her.

Leopold Wasser had been considered with a few others as a prime candidate for a Zaft General. That is until he had killed a soldier in a fit of rage over something petty and had been sent away- fired like Tom Edgeworth.

Or at least, that was how it appeared.

Rune Estragon had been the last to arrive on the Isle. By the time he'd arrived, Lent, Sanders, Sheba, Orlick and Alstarice had already served for nine years- before the First War had even started. Barnett had been serving for three, Tom for two, and Leopold for four.

"I can understand why Rune hates this place." Sheba repeated darkly. "The Eyes are protecting, at great personal risk, a bunch of villains. The first Coordinator refugees had every reason to face justice on Earth, but now they're getting a holiday resort."

Lent nodded. "I know they pay for it with their identity, but that hasn't stopped them from still milking money from their business outside the Isle. Nor has it stopped them from throwing their massive parties that they used to enjoy through corrupt means back in the Earth Alliance countries."

"At least the Numbers thought about the people- the children especially- who are Halfs." Sheba said suddenly. "It's starting from Scandinavia. Denmark first, where the Halfs are in danger. I hope there's time to get every Half back to Plant."

"But Rune bought time for us." Lent reminded her. "By bringing the Orb Princess over here, he bought us six months to transport people out of Scandinavia."

"You know," Sheba mused. "I think I believe in divine justice. The people who really have nowhere left to go are finally getting safety back in Plant. But the original asylum-seekers are too lazy and too scared to get out of the Isle, much less Scandinavia."

She smirked. "As far as I see, the original refugees are enjoying themselves too much. I don't think we can get them out in time to Plant if they don't want to go. Even the warning of a war that could happen right here in Scandinavia has fallen on deaf ears- they just want to stay put in the Isle."

Lent grinned back at her. "Well, we try our best, and when that fails, so be it."

They clinked glasses, laughing despite themselves.

"You're right though," Sheba agreed. "Rune did by us time by bringing her over. He seems to be doing a good job of controlling her, even if his feelings could possibly get in the way."

"Actually, Tom told me Seven wanted to transfer her to Tom's Isle." Lent revealed.

"It's not like Seven to make hasty decisions," Sheba noted, drinking a little more. "I'm even surprised that Seven wanted to switch the captive to another handler. It would disorientate her and she'd want to escape all over again. But then, I heard from Tom that the Fifth Eye spoke of that in convincing Seven not to switch her to another place."

Lent's hands twisted in his lap. "He's always so hard to read. When he first came, I didn't know what to make of him. He was so quiet, so sober that I thought he was more messed up than anyone of us. He's become even more so this year, but I think we should trust Rune. He knows what he's doing. This matters more to him than anything else. He must have a reason for letting her out of his manor."

"I know." Sheba admitted. "He was cold, very aloof and alone. Of course, most of us were, especially Barnett Romia and Tom Edgeworth in the past. I think he realised he had made an impulsive decision to come here once he arrived. He was desperate to take Epstein Cleamont and Lyra Delphius away when his three-year contract ended."

"Sanders used to tell me that Estragon was the only one who could really do anything for The Isle." Lent admitted. "Maybe that's why the Numbers need him here."

They stared at the wine Lent had stored nearly seven years ago. Its taste wasn't distinctive yet, and the true nature of its taste would only be known with time. But for now, there was a lingering aftertaste that suggested what its true flavour would be.

"A few months ago- we recognised the advantaged of sending Rune instead of Tom aboard the SS Rafael." Sheba recalled. "It was strange that Rune chose not to use the original plan we all agreed on. He was already a double agent by then, and he'd agreed to help Greyfriars capture the Orb Princess. For us, he'd agreed to seize her immediately and send her back to his Isle. But he chose to create a diversion and convince her to follow him instead."

"As if convincing her would have worked!" Lent said imperiously. "He even wanted her to sign a note saying that she was safe and she'd left with consent. As if Orb would accept that and not write it off as a note forced out of her!"

"Perhaps it would," Sheba reminded him. "They have a kind of history that we weren't aware of back then, since we know little about Athrun Zala and Cagalli Yula Atha anyway. He was about ten when we first left Zaft, so I don't think he was even in there at that time. She too, was pretty much out of the limelight. She was only announced as the Atha heir when she was about fifteen or sixteen I think."

She sighed. "Well, anyway, Greyfriars was also counting on Rune Estragon to use her supposed weakness to capture her and hand her over to them. That was his agreement with Greyfriars. Rune convinced him that he'd worked as her bodyguard for a while and knew how to take her down within minimal time and effort.

"As for us," Sheba smiled ironically. "He used the same argument in that sense. He told us that he'd be able to convince her to come without having to harm her or to use force, precisely because he was quite familiar with her. Of course, we didn't know how familiar. I only found out pretty recently myself."

Lent pushed up his glasses. "Well, he still managed to get her to the Fifth Isle in the end. I wouldn't have any complaints, except that they are in danger of falling for each other again."

Sheba breathed slowly. "That is if they haven't already."

Lent massaged his neck. "She was all bloodied up when he carried her out of the Sarasponde. I was waiting back at his place and Miles Summon ad June Requiem were with me in case she had to be sedated. But she was already unconscious. It was like a Gothic movie, the blood everywhere, and with her hair all golden and her gown trailing the floor. I half-thought that he was the devil who had captured some poor seraphim. But he opened his mouth to ask for help and it was the first time I ever saw him lose control like that."

"I've never seen anything like that." Sheba marvelled. "He was a different beast altogether. Remember how he killed Greyfriar's top man to assume that position?"

"He gutted that man in a one-to-one knife fight." Lent said heavily. "And unluckily enough, that sad bastard insisted that they use knives."

"It was insane. Leopold was concerned over the whole issue. Even Leopold! And Churchill was stunned with that brutal efficiency Rune exhibited in ascending ranks. Funny thing is that Rune was entirely normal after that incident. He just went home and took a shower and got back to office work."

Sheba chewed her thumb in a strangely incongruent manner. For a woman who looked so sophisticated, this action made her look like a child.

"We are warned not to have feelings," Lent muttered. "But a man like him- he probably never had any to begin with."

"But you saw him then, why, he was pale for days while the Orb Princess was in a coma! It looked almost as if-,"

"As if he cared about her and not so much the mission." Lent completed for her. "I know. Only both of us saw what went on. He held her hand for hours, sat by her side, and never said anything when I asked if he was alright. I even assured him that she would be fine and that the combination of all our medics would be able to make her as right as rain. But he never said anything. And then when she woke up, he was fine again, and reported as normal."

Sheba crossed her arms thoughtfully. "Rune's the most secretive out of all of the Eyes. Maybe it's no wonder we talk about him like this. Strangely enough. He's not unfriendly, nothing like that. But he doesn't say much, and it's hard to get a word out of him when it's something concerning himself."

Lent shrugged. "That's Athrun Zala for you."

---

They began to accept their reliance on each other.

He found that he wanted to see her every day. Not merely to fulfil the demands of their bodies, but to watch her as Cagalli laughed and talked to whoever it was. He wanted to see her smile at the twins when they amused her with their antics and when they gossiped about Epstein and even the frightful Harumi.

Athrun liked to watch her paint. It was a gift she had never realised or stretched to full potential, although the flair was very clear. Cagalli didn't paint what she saw- she simply painted what she felt. When he held up the canvas to the light, he saw energy and an almost panting vitality her brush strained at.

She painted trees, the skies, the sea that she now knew the passage to, and anything that caught her fancy. The dashes of colour and blooming light of the world on her canvas made him look at her and wonder if he would ever find the paths within her mind.

Her return to Orb was no longer a vague, hanging promise. It was become an imminent departure that both of them did not mention or discuss at all. But each time they laid in the same bed, he traced his name over and over again on her.

Although she might not have realised this. Cagalli did not understand what lay before her, even though she was aware of the time when she would have to return.

By themselves, Cagalli found Athrun to be another animal altogether. He did not care to win at trumps, although he often did. When they played cards, she found little excuses to brush her hand against his, eager to distract him.

They'd laugh and joke and bet on anything they could offer, which inevitably led to rather compromising situations she still enjoyed entirely. It was impossible to refuse him. Athrun was not a man anyone could refuse- certainly not her. Athrun would never play blackjack with her but always poker.

He would, invariably, win. He never made a slip, despite all her efforts to make him. Of course, Athrun was a very patient man. He never called in the hand too early. He preferred to wait until he had won, and only then, would he look at her and smile that thrilling smile of his.

Epstein and the twins would play too, but Athrun always, always won, and while he'd grin and everyone else would sigh, Cagalli knew what he'd ask of her later.

If and when they argued, it was brimstone and fire. She found that arguing with him sometimes made her incoherent and nearly shrewish- he refuted everything she said with calm, cold logic.

They'd spend hours talking, arguing and debating over the things they felt very strongly about, until he'd been convinced by her that Plant's economic policies were only covers for their growing deficits. Similarly, she was forced to concede that Orb's democracy was really quite limited.

And really, Cagalli would think as she drifted off to sleep, his arms around her, all that didn't really matter as much as having him next to her.

No matter what they did, Cagalli found herself wanting to be by his side and to feel every thing she could possibly have of him. She wanted to know him and feel him as an extension of her. But for all their acerbic wit and intelligence, they could not speak about what mattered.

At any mention of James Marlin, Cagalli would only look at him numbly and keep silent. At any mention of his work on the Isle, Athrun would become melancholy and unwilling to respond. Each time they spoke of anything besides the periphery of what made them so close to each other, they found themselves awkward and unable to look each other in the eye.

He knew it was a matter of time before they had to broach the subject of her return. Her time on the Isle was passing very quickly, too quickly for his liking, and perhaps even hers. He sensed that part of her yearned to return, but most of her was calm and at ease with him.

The other danger was that Cagalli was coming close to discovering what he could not let her know. The Isle's location was never quite clear, but each time they walked towards the coast, enjoying the sea breeze that whipped around them, he sensed that her eyes were memorising every detail of her surroundings.

For now, Athrun hoped that she would not think of escaping.

Athrun knew this was dangerous to Plant but also to him. If Cagalli left, he would most probably become despondent in some way or another. This was the price of letting anyone come close- when the person left, Athrun would be left to pick up the pieces.

---

"Always wake early. Shave immediately- men shave. A good soldier's got to look neat."

"Yessir." The long line of new recruits began using blades rather clumsily, some scrapping with efforts that would have produced bushels if there had been a single prick of hair on their chins.

A fifteen year old Athrun was amongst them. He was shivering a little- waking up at five in the morning and having to stand in line in a thin shirt and shorts always made him feel chilly, even after a gruelling workout. He looked helplessly in the mirror then at the blade- he didn't know where to shave even though he knew how to use a blade.

The males had been separated from the females, but they would eventually join up for inspection before the day's training began. It was a kind of platoon in itself- the long line of wash basins and mirrors. There hadn't been this many before, and the sheer addition to the facilities was witnesses to the height of nationalistic sentiment. The Junius Seven Massacre had increased the demand and supply of Zafties, and Athrun Zala was here to do his bit to kill as much scum and as many mothers as he could.

In the meantime, he wanted that promotion. He wanted that redcoat status. With that status, that elite pass, he would be trained, stretched further than the others. It wasn't that he wanted to compete- he just wanted to have access to the weapons that could determine the number he would kill. Then his father would be pleased. Then Athrun would be pleased.

"You, Recruit Amalfi!"

"Yessir?"

In general, recruits were required to look exactly like one another. Only the uppers and maybe the redcoats got to customise their uniforms and do whatever they liked to their earlobes and scalps. For now, no recruit was to stand out.

"Who told you that permed hair was allowed?"

"It's natural sir. Runs in the family."

"Yeah well-," The supervisor semed to remember that a couple of the recruits with hair he wanted to comment on had parents in the Supreme Council. "Always keep your hair neat. A neat soldier's a good soldier."

"Yessir."

The fifteen year old Athrun had not owned the cheek to tell his superior that Commander Rau Le Creuset had long flowing blonde hair. That hair had never seen an elastic band before. He'd never heard the superior make a single remark about Commander Le Creuset's locks.

"One more thing, recruits." The supervisor said pompously while the recruits splashed their faces with cold water then stood up ruler-straight, freezing. "As men, we know that girls are important but not always important. Do you see what I'm saying, recruits?"

Nobody said anything about the strange statement. Nobody wanted to go against the supervisor, even if he was only Rau Le Creuset's dog and a mere captain.

"No sir, because I think most of us would get our point across clearer than that." Dearka Elsman spoke up lazily. He came from a military family, one with as many valour awards as a pigsty with diseases, Athrun had thought cynically to himself. The captain-supervisor was probably indebted to someone from the Elsman House.

The supervisor looked flustered.

"But if you mean to say that we can touch girls but we must be warned not to get anyone pregnant," Dearka said cheekily, "Then we've heard it all before."

"Goddamit son, you took the words out of my mouth! What I was trying to say here, recruits, listen up now- it's best not to have sex. Not that it's not legal or wrong once you're over thirteen- it's just safer not to have sex. If you have sex, you will get pregnant. And you will die."

The captain rounded everything up there and then by barking his final piece of advice as a mature, very senior Coordinator. "Now everybody line up and take some rubbers."

The other recruits began to snigger, until the supervisor shouted something that people normally cringed at, and everyone stiffened to attention. Some boys- men, actually, by Coordinator standards, began to whisper about which girls were easy, and some began to shuffle around, looking slightly awkward. When his turn came to stretch out his hand and grab a few packets, Athrun did it without a single comment.

While Dearka gleefully received more than the stipulated number from a surly looking Yzak and an awkward Nicol, Athrun did not bother feeling embarrassed at the general crassness. Nor did he comment on the inability of the supervisor to teach sexuality education.

Instead, Athrun put those in a drawer somewhere. Meeting girls at a camp or learning about one's body functions beyond a fight wasn't the point of training. Moving up the ranks was. Making his father take notice of him was. Showing that he was worth something was. Revenge was.

And that was precisely why Athrun could never quite shake off the guilt at having deflected from Zaft twice, or the fact that he'd actually used those packets in the end; or the fact that he could never be good enough or more acceptable to his father. Maybe it had been Patrick Zala's pain at looking at the boy who resembled Lenore so much, but Athrun knew the betrayal went far deeper than that.

In the past, Athrun had been able to ignore all he'd failed his father for, thinking that at least he'd gained acceptance and possibly love from Cagalli for it.

For Athrun, it didn't matter that what Patrick Zala wanted was madness anyway. The point was that Athrun had never been able to please his father even once. He'd dismissed that nagging sadness by filling the emotional vacuum with Cagalli, even during the Second War.

But when he'd realised that he was back in Plant and Zaft, where he'd always been, he'd been thrown into silent, fast-sinking panic.

This was the place he knew too much about; the place his father had wanted him to be in as an extension of himself. But Athrun had failed him so many times.

So when Athrun received the diaries that Plant had wanted to confiscate and keep away from him, he'd poured through them. If he hadn't been able to please his father when Patrick Zala had been alive, then Athrun would at least know who the man had truly been after his death.

Through those diaries, Athrun had realised how much his father had wanted Athrun to be a person like him. The betrayal of Athrun turning out to be remarkably like his mother over the course of the First War had disappointed Patrick immensely, since he'd already planned for Athrun to be his help if Patrick failed in the Genesis plan.

Amongst the plans for Athrun were half-formed ideas that Athrun would take over what Patrick Zala wanted. Athrun Zala would gain political influence like his father, and this time, start a war between Orb and the Earth Alliance.

That way, Plant would be able to tackle a weakened Earth Alliance and show the world that Coordinators and Naturals were meant to be apart. Orb would go down with the Earth Alliance.

And that, Athrun had realised, was precisely what his father had planned for his son- a destiny of bloodshed and sacrifice for a woman who'd already died.

---

Having just given birth, Lacus looked pale and almost deathly. But still, she managed to sit up as Kira showed Meyrin in, and her eyes sparkled with pleasure as she beamed at Meyrin. Meyrin was holding a bunch of white roses and violets- Lacus' favourite flowers.

"I've just brought her to see the baby," Kira explained briefly, dropping a kiss on his wife's forehead. She smiled up at him, looking a bit pained. The birth had been difficult, and Kira had not made it to her side in time. But she'd seen him rush in moments after the baby had been delivered, and the look on his face had been worth the pains she'd bore for them both.

The doctors had assured her that while the birth was unexpectedly sooner, the child was healthy enough and would be fine.

While the room was bright with airy, open windows, the room was filled with aroma-therapeutic candles. Already the air was perfumed with scents that were supposed to make Lacus relax, and Lacus wondered if the flowers would lose their scents amidst all these cinnamon and vanilla candles.

"Your boy's lovely," Meyrin told her honestly. "He has your eyes."

"Thank you, Meyrin," Lacus laughed. She held Meyrin's hand in hers, and her husband's in the other.

"I'll leave you both to talk," Kira said gently, He bent down as Lacus pecked his cheek, and he smiled at her. She knew he had work to do and would return as soon as he could, but for now, Lacus wanted company. At least Meyrin was here, she thought wistfully.

The one thing Lacus was extremely glad about was that Kira had brought her home. While she had protested, wanting to stay in the hospital and adjoining nursing home to be near the baby, Kira had insisted. Besides, their house was near to the nursing home and he promised her he would be taking her there as often as she liked.

Meyrin settled into a chair, looking lovingly at Lacus. Both of them had become fast friends during the Second War, although Meyrin had never ceased to look up at the older woman as a mentor. "Are you feeling fine?"

The scents in the air wavered a little, and the sweetness was thankfully dispersed with a little wind that rushed in.

"I know I don't look like it," Lacus managed cheerfully. "But really, I am." She glanced down at herself. "I'm sure I gained weight during my pregnancy, but it was a bit difficult- the birth. Maybe that's why-."

"You look thin, actually." Meyrin noticed. Her eyes softened. "You were worried for Kira, weren't you?"

"Perhaps," Lacus said softly. She looked at Meyrin, a little worried. "Don't tell him I'm concerned, Meyrin. He'll think the baby came prematurely because of me worrying."

"Rest assured," Meyrin promised. "And probably, he understands you're concerned over him." Her expression dimmed a little. "I think he's very worried about Cagalli too."

The curtains at the windows swept a little with the wind. Lacus' expression turned lost, her eyes drifting over to the opened panes that were allowing air to rushed in.

"I know he's worried." Lacus said softly, considering all that Kira had only just told her because she'd demanded it. But she kept her knowledge of the letters from Meyrin, unsure how to explain herself to the girl. "I'm not sure what's going on, but I think Cagalli was very unhappy all these years."

"I thought so actually," Meyrin admitted. "At your wedding, she looked very sad at times. It wasn't obvious because she kept her spirits up and was very bubbly with everyone. But when you mentioned Athrun, she clammed up and there was a strange look in her face. Like she was trying to numb something."

"Yes," Lacus sighed. Of course, Kira had told her why by now, but Lacus wanted to keep it to herself. It wasn't fair to make Meyrin think that she'd contributed to that unhappiness between Athrun and Cagalli. "I suppose the last time you saw her face-to-face was during her twenty-third birthday surprise party?"

Meyrin nodded, looking at how pained Lacus looked. "She looked fine then. But Miss Cagalli is always a strong person to the world."

"Not privately though," Lacus said tenderly. "I've seen her when she was down once- aboard the Archangel during the Second War."

She shook her head a little, thinking of how Cagalli had been lost in thought even while her body had relaxed in the warm water of the hot bath. "To tell you the truth, Meyrin, I always felt miserable that I couldn't be there for her every time when she needed someone to be around her. I haven't had many true friends in my life, but she was one to me. She always tried and keep her head up in public, although she could be crying inside her."

Fitfully, Lacus' hands wandered to the flowers that Meyrin had laid next to her, and her white fingers stroked a petal distractedly.

Meyrin paused, and then said boldly, "I've seen her in tears before, Lacus. I felt awful then. I half-wished that I hadn't liked Athrun so much, because she was so obviously torn between him and Orb."

"Was that when she gave you the ring?" Lacus questioned softly.

Meyrin nodded. "When she approached me, I was stunned. I swear I never thought of getting in her way and Athrun's, no matter how much I admired him."

Lacus looked a little confused. "But didn't she ask you to take care of him?"

She laughed a little. "It was definitely more than a schoolgirl crush, but I admired Miss Cagalli too much to even think of replacing her. Of course I was so happy that she'd entrusted him to me, but then I knew in the deepest of hearts that there's no point entrusting anyone to anybody if that someone isn't already theirs."

"And it was obvious he still cared for her." Meyrin said quietly, smiling a little. "When I watched over him, and he woke up after being injured and badly wounded, he looked at me gratefully. But when he saw her sitting by him, I saw so many emotions in his face. Guilt, sadness, a kind of joy maybe, everything."

Lacus reached to Meyrin, cupping her face with her hands. "But you know Cagalli wanted the best for him and you."

Meyrin paused. "Yes, I did. Actually, I never knew he was in a relationship with her, but when I saw him look at her, I knew he'd probably thought of her while trying to escape from the Minerva. He'd wanted to find his way back to something that was worth living for."

"But that didn't happen in the end," Lacus said dejectedly. She took up the flowers again, looking at each blossom's beauty. Everything faded, Lacus thought sadly. No matter how beautiful it seemed, everything was temporal and the transience of these things always became clear.

Meyrin smiled, reaching out to hold Lacus' hands. "Lacus, you should just relax for now. Don't think about it so much- you need to recover soon and help Kira."

"Yes." Lacus agreed. She looked at Meyrin gratefully. "Thank you."

Outside the room, Kira closed the door quietly, leaving no gap at all this time. His face was troubled.

---

Greyfriars passed a cup to Rune Estragon, who sat in the armchair, admiring the way Greyfriars lived. Almost Spartan and very simple, Greyfriars drank no liquor, did not smoke and had a physique that reminded Athrun of a very tough, lean bullfighter.

In the house that Greyfriars lived in, Athrun was always surprised to see how simple his tastes were. Just one Isle away, Rochester's home seemed like a carnival. For that matter, the Fifth Isle's houses for the original refugees were like massive artifacts for pharaohs and royalty- even the refugees had added 'Lords' and 'Ladies' to their names. Their tastes were unbelievably expensive and exceedingly crass.

In contrast, the unnumbered Isle that Greyfriars and his faction lived on however, was a grim place. Even the finery they'd obtained and put around them was to remember their dead, loved ones.

"Why do you want to help us, when you don't even have a thing to gain from our cause succeeding?" Greyfriars' eyes were flinty, even if they were that miraculous shade of turquoise. He settled in his own seat, looking at Rune Estragon.

"That's not true." Athrun said coolly. "I earn from this."

The music that streamed from the old gramophone that was Greyriars' only indulgence spoke of a refined nature. Athrun was not fooled by it.

Greyfriars laughed. "Of course you do, Estragon. But you don't have to do all this to earn money. Granted, our production of these drugs does help our pockets, but you were already rich enough before joining us."

"You can never have enough." Athrun retorted. He closed his eyes momentarily, taking in the strains of a soprano voice wavering in an intense vibrato.

It was a German opera, and Athrun had become fluent enough over the years to understand most of it. As he to the melodrama of the character lamenting life's disappointments, Athrun realised that Greyfriars had often enjoyed evenings of tea and this old gramophone and his records.

"Why has your group been warring for so long?" Athrun enquired. He drank a little, watching Greyfriars. The man sighed, leaning back and shaking his head.

"It's difficult to resist when you're Danish," Greyfriars declared. The soprano voice was joined by a tenor and together, they lamented about lost love and Fate tearing them apart. "Scandinavia has always claimed Denmark as part of the region, even though Denmark suffers for it. We need independence, and that's why we need the world to recognised our plight."

"Nationalistic sentiments are strong ones." Athrun observed.

"Yes, as we've seen with Orb and the Earth Alliance. But nationalistic sentiments seem to do Denmark and my faction little good. Sweden-," Greyfriars' face darkened. "Sweden never lets the world come to attention for all we've been doing. Sweden controls Scandinavia, and they have never let much information leave Scandinavia about why I and my men fight so hard."

Greyfriars laughed negligently. "But that Orb Princess is certainly worth the names they call her- the Golden Princess, the Amber Lady, Haumea's Child, all of that. One measly kidnap and Orb wants to storm Scandinavia! Tell me, how is the world going to ignore what's been happening to Denmark in Scandinavia for so long?"

Athrun fought any expression. "Of all people, why did you pick her to bring here to try and use as your pawn? She has never known much of Scandinavia's mistreatment of Denmark, like the rest of the world."

"I've told you before. She's the most suitable sacrifice for our cause," Greyfriars said calmly. "The world has its attention on her at every point. The Earth Alliance thinks very, very strongly of her, and Orb too, without a doubt. If there was one person who could draw attention to Scandinavia, and by extension, Denmark, it would be her. Besides, we decided only recently, about four years ago, maybe?"

Athrun knew. That had been why he'd chosen to stay on even when his three-year contract had ended. "But we always failed to kill her."

"Yes well," Greyfriars sighed a little. "Killing her would be a pity, as you convinced me. It is true that bringing her over to Scandinavia would make a foolproof plan for the world to look into Scandinavia. Killing her in Orb and then claiming that we, the Danish terrorists did it, would be tough. Every terrorist group in the world would be trying to claim that honour, and knowing Sweden, we'd be written off yet again. As a terrorists, having no attention is as crippling as having no supporters."

"I agree." Athrun said non-committally. It was true though.

"You did well in bringing her over here, Estragon." Greyfriars said quietly. "I remember that dinner we had that night. You saw how so many of our children had died. And you convinced me that you'd bring her to Scandinavia and have her killed right here, with the world watching. You told me that you knew how to get her here without much struggle, and it was true, although you have locked her in that manor since then."

"She needed to recover at that time." Athrun claimed. "Killing her outright when she was injured and without any witness from Orb would lessen the shock impact you'd hoped to achieve."

"But the men believed in me when I promised them that our plans would start with her death. That's why I sent more than necessary to create the diversion on the SS Rafael that night. So many of my men died- they knew it was pointless fighting but still did so for Denmark's cause. The last one was killed in questioning," Greyfriars shook his head. "It's been a long time now, and I haven't been able to even lay an eye on her. When will I get to carry out my plans in full?"

"But you sent Decant Corriolis to my place to find and kill her." Athrun said with narrowed eyes. "Isn't that an attempt at the very least?"

"Yes, yes," Greyfriars shrugged. "But that's because he was insane and I didn't want to have him competing with me for supporters within our group. I knew you would kill him because you don't like having people interfere with your matters with me. But your matters with her-," He leaned forward.

Athrun watched as a small, sly smile played on Greyfriars' face. He did not like the look of it as Greyfriars spoke. "You told me you once worked as her bodyguard. Extraordinary, Estragon. But could it be that she's somehow charmed you into letting her live even when she was supposed to expire a long time ago?"

"Impossible." Athrun said coldly.

The principal violinist's solo was heart-wrenching and attention-seeking at the same time. As it cried out to the listeners, the violoncellos sang in fifths and the other viols joined in, the brass instruments resounding in the background.

"Then why don't you hand her over?"

"Because I'm extorting from her." Athrun said in the same, aloof tone. "She's desperate to live- she's willing to give up so much of her riches if I let her live for another day or two. And it's been going in my favour so far. She's nearly given away all of her fortune. I told you already- nothing matters to me except money and the payment you owe me for what I'm doing."

"Fine." Greyfriars decided. "I can wait a little longer though, although not indefinitely. Threaten her a little more and extort what you need. I'm getting impatient."

"You're willing to sacrifice even an innocent person like her." Athrun said coolly. "Remarkable."

"I decided that Denmark needed independence at all costs, even when my family died for it." Greyfriars said heavily. "Why should we suffer injustice just because we are Danish?"

The rest of the world, along with Greyfriars and his faction, believed that the conflicts within Scandinavia were solely political. Far from it, Athrun thought wryly, far from it. But of course Athrun kept his expression unreadable as he set down his cup.

Athrun shrugged impersonally. "Many of your group's women and children suffered more for the justice you want to obtain."

"That is true," Greyfriars admitted, "I blame myself for entering politics and forming the resistant group that appealed for independence from Scandinavia. If I hadn't done that, I don't think my wife and children would have been targeted and killed for it. Many of the men in the group also lost their families because they believed in independence and spoke up for it. And to think! Nobody knows."

Athrun studied Greyfriars. What had started off as an innocent appeal to stop Denmark from suffering under Scandinavian rule to the Swedish Royals had been stamped quite firmly. The old King had been quite adamant that the Denmark belonged to Scandinavia.

As Greyfriars had said, many of the Danish protestors' families had been punished for the impassioned pleas for independence, and the protestors had fled to com to the Isle. They'd regrouped here, angered and embittered, and had sworn revenge and were keener on independence, more than ever.

They'd staged attack after attack in public places within Scandinavia, but Sweden had always controlled the information leaving the region and the world heard very little about the terrorism at all.

But as an Eye, Athrun knew better.

The Danish who had escaped to the Isle twelve years ago were mostly Coordinators. Greyfriars' faction had come here to seek political asylum, whereas the earlier asylum-seekers were there because of the Coordinator discrimination. Or so, Athrun thought, that was what Greyfriars thought.

But even before Athrun had been sent here, the Numbers had seen patterns in the killings within Scandinavia.

Because of that, Plant arranged for intelligencers, the Eyes, to enter Scandinavia and to collect refugees. This wasn't the first time Plant had been doing this through Zaft- they'd already occupied remote, tiny islands before the First War to safeguard Coordinators who were being persecuted.

"I've received information that the refugees who were sent to Plant are doing well," Athrun said gingerly. "Better than if they'd stayed in Scandinavia or even on the Isle."

"That's good." Greyfriars said mildly. His expression became a little more humane. "Thank you for your kindness. If not for your contacts, I'm not sure how we would save my people and get them out of Denmark to come here, and then to Plant where they'd be safe."

The timpani sounded and the contralto voice quavered in affected passion. Together with the colortura soprano, the two voices in thirds entwined in strands of sound.

Athrun kept his expression cold. "You're paying me for it with a life."

"Is it enough that I'll capture Pietre Harraldsson for you?" Greyfrairs said lightly. "I offered you all the riches we could give, but you refused it. Instead, you want me to capture him when you decide so. What has he done to you?"

Athrun kept mum, and Greyfriars sighed. "I won't ask then. But you came here only quite recently. Since then, you've been giving me and my group help for our cause. You fund our activities, you use your contacts for our benefit, and you even captured the Orb Princess for our sake. You get what I've promised you overall, of course, but the trouble you go to doesn't add up to what you gain."

"It does." Athrun said tonelessly. The music was building and the choir was joining in as the leading voice, a bit shrill now, shot into the air. The glissando the tenor displayed was rather impressive.

"You are not Danish, and so you are not like the second kind of refugees who come here to the Isle for an asylum." Greyfriars wondered. "But you don't seem to have been a Coordinator who was chased out of any country for any crime."

"I've told you before. I'm exactly like those who first came to occupy the Isles." Athrun shook his head, maintaining the story he'd always used with Greyfriars. "I was once Rusty Amalfi back in New York, and there were death threats because my businesses were flourishing too much. The Naturals there were unhappy when they found out that I was a Coordinator. I had to come here, like the original refugees. The only thing that's different was that they came before the First War, but I came after the Second." His lip curled. "Nothing matters to me except money."

"I know," Greyfriars said, a twisted grin stretching over his face. "You're a businessman, Rune Estragon, and that's what I like about you. You don't care that there are people here who are either pitiful, wretched Danish. Nor do you care about the others, who were one-time Coordinator refugees brought here before the First War started. You don't care that the people I beg you to bring into these Isle are Danish who need shelter from Sweden's tyranny, and you don't care that the people like me are killers. You don't care that the contacts you make use of on the Isle are filthy with sins they committed outside the Isle and are still continuing to commit here."

Athrun shook his head. "You're wrong. Sometimes, I think that people like Rochester, Mullin and a whole load of others deserve to be in your position. They don't deserve to be here on the Isle, hidden away from the troubles they brought on themselves."

His expression hardened. "They deserve to be the Danish, mistreated by Sweden."

Greyfriars looked surprise for a moment, then smiled suddenly, shaking his head. He drew out a tiny portrait he wore around his neck, gazing at the faces of the people Athrun knew he'd loved. "And I wondered how I could have found someone like me even while here on the Isle."

"Someone like you?" Athrun questioned.

"Someone I thought, was also without a heart."

Athrun continued to drink. The strains of the opera swelled as the orchestra boomed in, and the soprano's voice soared over the background. Filled with passion, fury and rage, it was a lovely melody.

---

That evening, Athrun opened a window in the room he'd truly to begin to think of as his own. While the window had been boarded up when he'd first taken her to his room, now Athrun decided that she had already no will to escape.

She'd drawn in a breath with delight and surprise when he'd brought her here, and she'd curled up on the divan he'd arranged to overlook the window. Presently, Cagalli was looking with pleasure at the sea and trees outside. Her hair ruffled softly in the wind, and he buried his face near her shoulder, hugging her from the back as they both sat on the divan.

With Cagalli here, Athrun realised, the room felt as if someone did use and live in it. As they sat there silently, he knew Cagalli was mesmerised by the scenery beyond the window. He cradled her in his arms, his hands stroking her hair as she closed her eyes, breathing in the fresh scents of the air.

The wind swept some cold air in and she shivered but refused to let him close the window when he offered to. Along with the air came some leaves. As she picked up an orange leaf, she held it up to the moon and it gleamed enigmatically in her palm.

"Funny how time goes by," Cagalli said quietly, looking at the leaf. "And in the past, I thought every single day took forever to spend."

Athrun turned her face to his delicately, and he asked, "What do you love about Orb?"

Her eyes widened, and she recalled the first time he'd asked her that. Then, she'd told him that everything was worth loving in Orb. In the past, he'd responded by telling her that one day, her answer would be different for her own sake.

Now Cagalli understood what he meant.

"I can't answer you." She said hopelessly, and she watched his eyes grow stormy. The darkness around them swirled with the wind and Cagalli thought of how Athrun had looked when she'd seen him on the SS Rafael, his face hidden in shadows.

His expression hardened. "Then tell me if you love Marlin at all."

Cagalli's face grew tormented, and she seemed to grow cold even while he held her in his arms

"I've told you before that there are plans." She said eventually, not moving at all. "I suppose I will return in time-,"

His heart sank at the thought of seeing her marrying another man, all while he watched, unable to leave the Isle, unable to reach her ever again. "Consider this. When you were engaged to Marlin, who approved of it?"

"The Council of Elders." She said hesitantly.

"Was any document signed?" He said brusquely.

"Not yet. It will be when I return though," Cagalli explained hastily. "When I return and marry James Marlin officially." She looked at him, trying to hide her guilt.

But the mention of that name was enough to make him lose his better judgement.

He pulled her into his arms even more tightly, ignoring her tiny gasp of surprise. "Athrun-,"

He cut her off, kissing her deeply, aggressively. As she broke away, he stared at her, hurt. "Tell me that he doesn't matter."

She stared at him, afraid of telling him the truth, afraid that she would only bring them into more trouble. "Why do you want me to say that? You know we might have-" She paused, "-have developed feelings over time, but those aren't necessarily feelings that can be acted on."

"But they can be." He said tensely, knowing that he was pleading inside. Both of them knew he that he was begging- and Rune Estragon wasn't a man who begged. This person was Athrun Zala, and he had long forgotten to be Rune Estragon. "Say it, Cagalli."

She paused, but then she shook her head, trying to pull away and get up from the divan. But he didn't let her. Her voice became frantic. "Don't do this. Please don't, Athrun. Tell me your plans- tell me why you're asking for more than what we've gotten."

"When you agreed to an engagement with Marlin," Athrun said brusquely, "You, he, and the Council of Elders knew that cancelling your engagement to a Yuuna Roma Seiran was unnecessary. He was dead by then. But you never thought beyond Orb, did you? And neither did they."

He shook his head. "I was just as dead to you as Yuuna, and you never thought of checking with Plant. But that was a mistake. I wasn't dead, and we were considered engaged in Plant's eyes, thanks to Dullindal." He laughed bitterly. "In the eyes of Plant's law, you have been engaged for nearly seven years now, and officially, at that, to a man named Athrun Zala."

Her mouth fell opened, and she stiffened, trying to move away from him in her flustered state. "But you've left, and you've assumed a new identity and-,"

Athrun wondered if he had made a mistake by telling her this. Her apparent aversion to the news made him ache, but he only held her closer, gripping her wrists now, preventing her from getting away from him.

Her voice began to break. "Athrun, I don't understand! You're Rune Estragon now, and you can't possibly say we're-," She looked down, trembling.

But Athrun studied Cagalli now. She was his golden filly, struggling against him still, trying to break his grip even now, and he knew that he could not resist telling her. He had wanted to see her reaction to the information he had never told her of until now. It was worth it, he decided, showing this card to her.

Cagalli found herself unable to complete her sentence as she looked at him, her words dying away. The wind from the window was still blowing, and a leaf or two scattered in, casting shadows momentarily, then falling on the carpeted floor.

"When I returned to Orb to tell you after the Second War, you never gave me a chance to," He said simply. "You were too keen on avoiding me."

She fell silent, realising that this was true. Things had escalated fast after the Second War- the crimes the Seirans had committed and the murder of the Prime Minister. The Seirans, mad with grief for their son and their fall from power, had framed Athrun out of revenge as , whom she had spurned for fear of him rejecting her upon finding out what she was becoming.

Outside, the sounds of an elusive owl flitted through to them, and she could hear the ocean in the distance. It reminded her of where she really belonged, and Cagalli felt herself tensing.

He looked at her sadly. "Perhaps, it never crossed your mind or anyone's to check with the authorities that existed outside Orb. Maybe it never occurred to you that in Plant's eyes, within Plant laws and legislation, you are still legally bound to Athrun Zala. To you, everything existed in your world- nothing outside it mattered. But this time, it did matter."

Because Cagalli and the Council of Elders had not thought of laws outside Orb, they had merely assumed that she had long annulled any engagement that might have existed. This was partially true- but only within the borders of Orb.

The ocean beyond the window beckoned, moonlight speckled like diamonds upon it. Now, Cagalli's eyes were large in her face and she looked positively ill with worry. "This engagement that has been defunct for so long! Surely, you've been assumed to be missing or dead, and it would be void?"

"It's been nearly seven years," He murmured. "But not seven."

That a single thought he had been turning over in his mind for so long was now presenting itself on the envelope of his lips. He watched Cagalli's eyes widen.

His trump was out in the open. He had kept this knowledge aside for so long. Now, she would know a little of what he had begun to turn over in his mind since she'd arrived, turn over and play with until it had become a full plan.

He grabbed her by her wrists, ignoring her cry, pinning her to down to the divan. He could feel sweat starting to bead in his hair and his body tensing. Purposefully, he began to undo the knots of his robe.

He loosened his robe quickly, trapping her with how he placed his hands by the side of her head, lowering himself to kiss her briefly.

"I can help you escape from your fate of an arranged marriage." Athrun said in a low voice. "If you agree, I will."

Cagalli gaped. "How?"

She looked lovely, he thought dazedly, her collarbone, earlobes and wrist gleaming with the pearls he'd asked her to wear. Her eyes were soft and golden in the candlelight and her hair was not waist-long now, but just slightly above her shoulders. Just as he had remembered it, all those years ago.

"All it would take would be for Athrun Zala to reappear before he's declared legally dead." His voice was breathless now. "All he would have to do would be to prove that he is alive. That would automatically validate the engagement that still exists between you and him."

The rain was beginning to pour outside the window. His back was sprinkled with small little dots of water, and the dampness made him aware of how she was breathing and alive, his weight above hers.

To a ladybug, each rain droplet must have seemed like a hammer chiselling into the leaf it was resting on. Her heart felt just as weak, trembling and afraid of what she now knew.

His eyes were slits, glaring into hers, and she flinched, understanding finally, why he had traded information in the past for an Orb citizenship. He pulled open his robe, although he didn't bother taking it off completely, having already untied it. He began on hers. She lay there, frozen, mesmerised by the tenderness he looked at her with.

In her mind, she had been so naïve, thinking that he wanted to further his businesses, which required a citizenship. What a fool she had been! Someone like him didn't need new investments- he was already up to his neck in wealth. He had needed an opportunity to return to Orb, to prove that he was alive!

"You see what I'm going to do, don't you, Cagalli?" He said this gently, as if she were a child who didn't understand him. And this was true, she realised. She didn't quite.

He sighed a little, bringing his hands away from her robe to stroke her face momentarily. "Think about what my absence for nearly seven years would mean."

Nearly seven years ago, he had left Orb as something of a criminal with a stain on his record, thanks to her and the Seirans' doing. But an Orb citizenship would allow him the right to return to seek an audience, readdress the case, and clear his name.

And now, he would do more than that. Cagalli realised what he wanted to do now. Athrun would return to Orb, now that he had the means to, and he would thereby prove that he was alive and kicking.

All too late, Cagalli realised it. Her engagement to Marlin would be invalidated because Plant would validate an earlier one she had with Athrun Zala.

His eyes burnt into hers, his body still weighing hers down. She wanted to push him away but he had captured her already with his arms and his gaze. The open window next to them let the sounds of the night draw in, and she shivered, feeling the air lick at her skin.

"Supposing," Athrun said in a low, almost rough voice, making thrills run up her spine, "I returned to Orb with you. And supposing, just supposing, that you told the Elders of a prior engagement. To me. Even before Marlin."

Her voice was breathless and indignant at the same time. He was still gazing down at her, and she was electrified by his stare.

"How could the Council of Elders be fine with it? If I annul a political marriage on the basis that I was engaged before that without realising it, they will be made a laughing stock!" Cagalli was sputtering.

His weight was increasingly pressing hers down, and his fingers found her chin as he tilted her face up to his. The back of his hand began to stroke her cheek, and terrified, she gazed at him.

"But supposing," He whispered, "they found no valid opposition to a union that had already happened before one that they arranged. Supposing you had a child that would fulfil the clauses for you to hold onto power."

She found herself whimpering very quietly as he moved his hands nearer to her neck then chest, feeling her heart beat beneath her while he brushed his lips against her ear. He was pulling them both together once more, and she froze, unable to respond or resist.

"How could the Council find no opposition to a marriage that existed without their prior consent?" Her voice was shaking.

"Because," He said again, this time with a cunning she stared at, "You would be carrying a child which fulfilled the clauses stated. An heir who would be able to assume power and carry on the line in time to come." His voice was a sensuous thread, a suggestion that made her feel weak. "Do you think they would dare accuse you of defying the laws they had written? Suppose this found no opposition to this-"

The ambiguity of the way he had said 'this' made a thousand frissons of fear and something like lust travel through her, pooling into a strange heat within her body. When he said 'this', had he mean the hypothetical marriage with him or something else he wanted from her-

While Cagalli knew that she had no such engagement with Marlin, Athrun believed that she did. Now, Cagalli understood that in his mind, he was planning to reclaim her, now with her consent.

His mouth was on hers, and she felt that she was being absorbed, suffocating into this haze of heat and want, this pattern of needing and being needed.

For nearly seven years, he had bided his time for something she could not understand fully. He had been missing for nearly seven years. He was almost as good as dead- but he was still alive, and he had the means to reclaim so many things now.

Cagalli stared at him, not really seeing as he shifted, dropping kisses on her neck and shoulders as he loosened her robe completely now.

Dazed, she thought of the articles that Aaron Biliensky had collected. Aaron had always been fascinated by conspiracy theories- or rather, those he concocted for himself and for Cagalli's amusement. Loch Ness Monsters, dinosaurs, Santa Clause, fairies- the list went on and on, and so did the suppositions and theories.

But amongst the supposition, there was the fact that Athrun Zala's assets and inheritance had been frozen by the State for nearly seven years.

Cagalli looked at Athrun now, and she knew that he had appeared on the SS Rafael that night. He had appeared to reclaim his name, his identity, his inheritance, and her.

He was sliding off her robe completely now, and she looked up at him, her eyes frightened. The pearls she wore imitated the moon, and Cagalli felt him pillow his head on her chest, listening to her heart beat.

The brilliant moon that she was momentarily blinded rose in the sky. Like a lamp, it cast silver light onto their bodies. But for her, she thought only of the Galactic laws that Orb, the Earth Alliance, and Plant were bound by. A missing person could be legally declared dead only after seven whole years had passed. Only when a person was legally dead could all contracts, including engagements be considered void.

Cagalli knew then, without even doing the calculations in her head, that the six months she would be kept here was the remaining time that would complete seven years.

He was kissing her again, and she moaned into the kiss, feeling something in her shatter as she pushed him away at the same time. The rushing of the waves somewhere beyond them felt like the disappointment she sensed in her own body. Panting, she looked at him.

If he reappeared, their engagement would become valid in the eyes of Plant. Surely, even Orb would have to admit its validity-

"You can't reappear!" Cagalli said vehemently, her voice a cry.

If he realised that she had convinced him to trade his information by using an engagement with Marlin that had never existed, Athrun would never forgive her. He would realised that she, Cagalli Yula Atha, was a sorry, unwanted woman whom no man had ever wanted, and that he, Athrun Zala, had been tricked by her.

He stared at her, his eyes slits once more. "Orb will respect and take into account Plant's laws. If I return to Orb with you, the engagement Plant will come into effect once again. Seven years have not passed entirely since I disappeared. Nearly, but not entirely."

His hands reached for her, and she closed her eyes, moaning quietly, feeling his lips brush roughly against her neck and then breasts. She blamed him, Cagalli thought, her eyes glazing as she stared at him, then turned to gaze at the lone pearl in the sky.

He'd taught her without knowing, how to experience such pleasure. And now, she was attuned to him and her body was trembling with fear and desire. It seemed both instinctive and yet forbidden.

"Am I to watch you bring married to someone you don't love again?" Athrun said quietly. "Am I to turn the other cheek again?"

It was difficult to feel nothing when she looked at him. For in the dim, captivating lighting, Athrun's torso was like marble, save the slight rise of his chest that reminded her that he was a living, breathing man. As she shook her head, protesting a little, she was horrified to hear lust in her own voice.

If she could return to Orb, Cagalli told herself stubbornly, Athrun Zala would be a memory, nothing else. There was a future she had to return to, and she could not let herself be pulled back into the past with Athrun, no matter how much something stirred in her each time she gazed at him.

He closed his hands upon her, fondling her breasts even though she tried to shy away. Even as she sat up forcefully, trying to struggle, he slipped around her, straddling her, he lifted her face to kiss her. She saw his gaze harden, and one hand was gripping her wrist, the other moving down to slip its fingers near her thighs. He watched while she gasped in shock and with some forbidden pleasure.

But then he brought his hand away immediately, and he looked at her coldly. Cagalli began to ramble."No- impossible- that's not-,"

"Why not?" He said very dispassionately, which she suspected, had the same intensity of what he felt.

"I don't want you to come back with me to Orb." Cagalli sputtered. "You don't belong there. The engagement is a thing of the past, and I don't-,"

His eyes turned cold. "Don't lie to yourself. There was no turning back after I traded information for your kiss. Look at us now. You're lying like this with me, you with half of your body bared for my pleasure. The other half doesn't have to be bought- nothing of us has to be bought if you let us do as we deserve. Weren't you ready for this before? Aren't you ready now?"

"Not like this, when you tell me what you want to do." She argued in spasms of breath, because he was trailing his fingers near her neck and his lips were soft and suggestive near her ear. "All this- it was meant to be a one-off thing!"

He was looking at her quietly. "I've said it before. If you say it's a one-off thing, then it's obviously a one-off thing that happens quite frequently. Don't tell me you're letting me touch you for information. We've gone past that now, Cagalli."

"Don't make us fall into this trap!" She said in a rush, in a desperate attempt to keep them both sane. "It doesn't make a difference whether you reappear or not! I have to return to Orb and marry him one day!"

He drew a breath back abruptly, suddenly sober. He moved away from her, lying on his back on the divan, silent for a long time. Cagalli sat there, her back facing him. The silence made the winds seem louder.

His next words were selfish because he could not help it. "I don't want another man to have you."

"It's not for you to decide," Cagalli said wanly, despite the ache in her heart. It was still throbbing, beating with pain that echoed through her even though she was careful to hide it.

She shook her head, glad that he could not see her expression. "No matter what you say or do, I have already agreed to the eventual marriage."

"Why did you agree to marry the Prime Minister of Britannia?" He said sharply.

"What's wrong with him?" Cagalli said angrily, trying to mask her hesitation. She turned back to him, facing him as he sat up fitfully, his knees high with his legs in an angular silhouette.

"He's seven years older than you!" Athrun said aggressively, immediately regretting his weak argument.

She answered hotly. "And what's wrong with that? I like men who are at least a decade older than me, so what's the issue? He's got a bloody fortune and a fleet of bloody cars and a few horses in some stable somewhere. And he's got more influence on Eurasia than Orb will ever have. If I give him my hand, Britannia will be on Orb's side. He's got more influence than either of us can imagine."

"And you're marrying him for it?" Athrun said cruelly. "Is that what you really are?"

"What's wrong with him?" Cagalli said curtly. She turned herself fully to him, not wanting to back down and not realising that she was getting too near to him all over again. "He's a gentleman, isn't he? There's nothing really bad about him- he's smart, and he's ambitious enough to keep his influence and hone the innate talent within him. He can provide for us, though I wouldn't need his money at all, and Orb would gain from him."

"That's not enough for someone like you," Athrun interrupted. "I want to know how you feel about him. You've always evaded my question. Answer me now."

She bit her lips mutely.

"What about your feelings towards being asked to choose a husband this way?' He retorted. "Doesn't it hurt your pride that you are subjected to someone else's wishes when it is a personal matter and your own life?"

Cagalli exploded into a tirade; a flurry of anger and panic.

"At least I'll know exactly what he's expecting of me as his wife! Unlike if it was you, I'll never have to feel anything for him and I'll never have to care what he thinks! He'll never want more than to be the Orb Princess' husband- he'll never want to know what goes on in my mind, and I only need to be faithful to him; to know how to cook, clean and fuck! "

She leapt off the divan, the robe flapping like a coat, rage still on her face as he stared at her. Athrun gazed at her and saw her golden hair and eyes, the mouth that was a woman's, passionate and expressive, the delicate collarbone and small hands, the full breasts and hips that led to her soft thighs. She was built as a woman- a woman for a man, not merely a pawn for a country.

He looked at her and the way her eyes could not meet his.

In that moment, Athrun knew exactly why Cagalli had rejected him for Yuuna Roma Seiran. It wasn't a matter of love to her, and all she'd wanted was to ensure that Athrun would be happy. She'd assumed that he didn't want to be in a situation where he was despised by anyone in Orb, let alone someone who was despised and seen to be a political pawn by the rest of Orb.

The truth was that Cagalli had agreed to a political marriage because it was the best way for her to hold onto power. She would gain the Council of Elders' approval and thereby maintain her status. But the crux of all of this was that even if she was unhappy, she didn't want Athrun to be unhappy either.

"I'm sorry." She said in a low voice. "I shouldn't have said that."

He stared at Cagalli, watching the way light flickered across her arms, face and those strange, beautiful eyes that changed in the light, glowing like Baltic amber. The pearls gleamed on her, and there was coldness in those eyes.

She would do anything to hold onto that power, and she would do anything to keep her unhappiness contained within herself. She'd become numb to it over the years, Athrun realised, until he'd brought her here. And now, she was trying to prevent him from taking any unhappiness onto himself in a bid to share her burden with her.

"No." Athrun said quietly. "I'm glad you did."

Now, Athrun sat up straight on the divan, watching Cagalli. Her eyes were still not meeting his, and she was standing tensely before him.

"When you agreed to marry me before the Second War," Athrun said tensely. "Did you consider that the Orb Council of Elders was unlikely to approve of your personal decision?"

Cagalli faltered for one split second. In the past, she had never considered asking the Orb Council of Elders for approval. To Cagalli, as long as she approved of Athrun Zala,that was where it ended. It had never occurred to her that other would have to approve of him. But she had been ignorant and naïve, as Yuuna had said. And objectively, he had been right about at least that.

She frowned. "I'm not so naïve anymore."

"Then look me in the eye and say that you've moved on." He demanded.

She stared at him, faltering but still stubborn. "I don't need to answer to you."

"But you need to answer to yourself." Athrun told her firmly.

"I'm James Marlin's fiancée, and I'll return to his side even if it's the last thing I do I'll do anything to return to Orb." Cagalli's voice was brittle.

But he got up and yanked her to stand closer to him. She would not sit next to him, already wary that he could easily pin her down as he had before this. Her eyes stared at him mistrustfully.

"Do you love him?" Athrun said sharply. If she did, then nothing more had to be said. If she did, then everything would make sense- her wanting to return to Orb, her willingness to do as the Council of Elders wanted- everything.

She had told him once that this did not matter. But it mattered to him, even if it did not matter to the Orb Council of Elders, Marlin, or even Cagalli herself. And now, she found that she could not lie to Athrun.

"I don't dislike him." Cagalli admitted. "But I'm not sure that I love him."

"Then why don't you let me take you from Orb?" He said hollowly. Athrun could play the villain, he realised. It would upset the Council of Elders' plans quite thoroughly. If he took her against her will and forced her to marry him somehow, he would prevent her from entering a political marriage. But he'd be breaking her that way, and he could not even consider that.

She shook her head mutely, willing herself to be cruel to him. "This is precisely why I gave the ring to Meyrin and asked her to look after you. You shouldn't be trapped with me, Athrun, if you consider me trapped at all. You deserve to lead your own life, and being with you would be difficult for both of us."

He gazed at her, stung, but knowing that she spoke the truth.

One, Athrun Zala was the son of Patrick Zala. It hadn't occurred to her in the past, but it did so acutely now. The reason why he had chosen to assume the identity of Alex Dino was so he could be with her in Orb.

As she had said, she needed the world's approval where the political match was concerned to keep her power. Having him disapprove but everyone else approve was a more pragmatic decision than being with him. If he, Athrun Zala, reappeared, and even with her approval, revealed that they were legally still engaged, the Orb Council of Elders would never give them a day of peace.

He was, after all, the son of Patrick Zala, and a man with none too stellar a past. Defecting from Zaft twice, and leaving Orb with something of a criminal record was none too charming for the Elders's and the people's vote. And not to mention, his role on the Isle was something that she wasn't even aware of yet.

Anybody remotely related to Patrick Zala was deemed dangerous, possibly even power-hungry. Even Ezalia Joule was still suffering from the consequences of supporting a man that history had not deemed the victor after all.

Cagalli Yula Atha, would never be allowed to be with Athrun Zala. Even Plant would never allow a marriage like that, whereby Patrick Zala's son could marry the person with the most power in Orb and all its colonies. Nobody could never change the fact that he was his father's son.

Of course, if she wasn't the Princess of Orb, it might have been far simpler. But her father's death and his last wish she was to fulfil had long removed that possibility of her abdicating in favour of someone else.

But now, Cagalli pulled him up, holding him to her for a second.

"Don't think about the problems outside, Athrun." Her voice was soft and persuasive, and her lips brushed over him as she spoke. She smiled as bravely as she could. "Don't break what we have right now. Just focus on me. I'm here- I'm not going anywhere."

"Not yet." He said bitterly. He took her in his arms and ruefully, hugged her. "This is the problem I always foresaw. I warned myself not to let you even try offering as little as this bit of contact, but it was pointless. I fell into that trap myself, and nothing will be enough now, until I have everything."

She shook her head. "This is good enough." Smilingly, she blinked back her tears. "I don't know what will happen in the future, but your bringing me here gave me peace too, Athrun."

"Why?" His voice was hushed and hoarse with pain.

"Because I know that you're alive." She answered simply, then buried her face in his chest, hugging him. "When I go back to Orb, I will go back but know that you're alive."

He began to kiss her, and guiltily, she returned it, his arms tight around her, as if she was going to vanish the way he had all those years ago.

---

2 months. 20 days.

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A/N: Hello dear readers! As you know, the reviews have been coming in quite quickly and so have the chapters. Thanks for that!

I'll be taking my exams soon, so the chapters will stop for a while. This one's to tide you guys over! In the meantime, please review- I'll be waiting eagerly! And just a little extra something from me- the aides under each Eye are named below. The primary one is named first of course. Not that they make an appearance, but I had already named them and some have been wondering about who they are.

Most of these aides will not an appearance at all. So if you want, you can read their descriptions and imagine them! : )

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1. Sanders Gargery (Male- deceased) Sandy-haired, FAIH, solid-build, good with guns and a former pilot. Good at tactical planning. But apparently not good enough to stay alive.

-Hector Wolfsheim (Male-deceased)

-Nargis Williams (Male-deceased)

-Vince Shagimardanov (Male-deceased)

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2. Lent Mortimer (Male) 34 yrs, redcoat, FAITH, Brown haired, spectacled, can recreate any weapon he gets his hands on. Works closely with Tom, who can deconstruct any weapon he gets his hand on- or anything at all. Recreated Cagalli's seal in his forge.

-Miles Summon(Male) 40 yrs, a surgeon by training, brown hair.

-Tequila Clarriker (Male) 18 yrs, turquoise-haired, good at disguises and forging writing, currently the 'female' the aides have to rely on if there's a male to seduce. Is male.

-Ike Housenberg (Male) 30 yrs, redcoat, blonde, tan, very physically fit.

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3. Barnett Romia (Female) 23 yrs, auburn-haired, child-prodigy, specialist in explosives and biochemicals, useless in a fight but brainy enough to be an Eye even though Eyes are usually very competent physically.

-Enoch Quimbly(Male) 28 yrs, redcoat, statistician who used to work under Shiho Hahnenfuss, helps Barnett with calculations

-Mica Toulousse(Male) 28yrs, redcoat, russet-hair, freckly skin, good with physical jobs, makes sure Barnett gets her meals

-Rui Farrowlot (Male) 19 yrs, almost sickly-looking, lab assistant, makes sure Barnett's lab functions

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4. Alstaric Krieg (Male) 30, dark-haired, tanned, good at business deals and very competitive, suave and smokes

-Otto Tarka(Male) 22, Handles Alstarice Krieg's acquired businesses and some of Rune Estragon's

-Uylssep Lyon (Male) 23, redcoat, short but blocky, handles the hustling when Alstarice Krieg needs it

-Jin Yenellov(Male) 28, Jet-hair, jet-eyes, of Chinese descent. Speaks many languages and acts as Alstarice's interpretor for business deals.

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5. Rune Estragon(Male)

-Epstein Cleamont(Male)

-Cartesia Daemon (Female)

-Laplacia Daemon (Female)

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6. Sheba Velasco (Female) 32, red-coat, FAITH, albino in appearance.

-Hideki Clarriker(Male) 23, red-coat hay-coloured hair, mute, very strong despite how he refined he looks

-Nicholas Lio(Male) 27, red-coat dark-skinned, skin-head, works in the Scandinavian palace as Pietre Harraldsson's (the Crown Prince) guard, a spy for the Eyes

-Zechariah Houfer(Male) 17, puny-looking, looks deceptively weak, works in the Scandinavian palace as a cook's boy, spy for the Eyes

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7. Tom Egeworth(Male) 21, red-coat, jet-haired, blue eyes, one eye removed and replaced with a camera. Weapons specialist but prefers guns- uses a long-distance rifle. Uusually in charge of operations that require capture and stunning captives.

-Lucretzia Nombre(Female) 19, hair is blue-black, deathly-pale, eyes are yellow, almost like a goth-loli. Uses a three-pronged sword.

-Whigham Karasuma (Male) 36, tall, hair like a fuzzy chick's, doesn't speak much and very tall. Used to pilot test-Zakus. In charge of piloting refugees from the Seventh Isle to the Plants. Disguised as a butler during Rochestor's party.

-Kerring Rosenthal (Male) 29, green-haired. Used to pilot test-Zakus. Does the same job as Whigham.

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8. Leopold Wasser (Male) 36, redcoat, FAITH Carroty-haired, very fit, manages some businesses Rune Estragon acquires, and works within the Earth Alliance as a businessman.

-June Requiem(female) 30, surgeon like Miles, heart-shaped face, milky brown hair, doubles as an accountant

-Ixler Ignatius(male) 26, a bit on the plump side, poses as Wassers' business partner

-Krad Lynx (male) 21, pale-blue hair, economic analyst who failed his redcoat test because of the physical component but is very happy to be here on the Isle

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9. Orlick Churchill (Male) 42, redcoat, salt-and-pepper hair from stress, bulky form but still rather fit. Handles the shipment of necessities for the Isle-dwellers and has to ensure that overall, nobody breaks the rules of leaving, etc.

-Jacques McEwan (male) redcoat, 27 (I couldn't be bothered at this time!)

-Anthony Oxford (male) 25

-Ronald Dentrifort (male) 29