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

Chapter 25

The winter sun was not strong, and it was a good thing, for Cagalli would have had to squint. However, she was facing the windows, perched on a chair, and she was cleaning the windows. Her expression was reflected in the window, and within that disconcerting moment, she realized that it was a familiar expression. That of a slightly unwilling spirit but that of a forced satisfaction.

Nevertheless, she set to what she'd taken on with the efficiency of a workhorse and the vigor of one who seemed truly interested in the task at hand.

"Miss Cagalli, you should leave this to us." Laplacia was calling out, some distance below Cagalli.

"Oh, don't be a worrywart." Cagalli said brightly. "Why don't both of you go and finish the rest of the housework? I can manage just fine here. Go play with Ko or something."

Cartesia and Laplacia were watching her, but Cagalli ignored them both. As she washed the windows, scrubbing harder than she needed to, Cagalli glanced reassuringly at them. Both the twins' faces were scrunched in worry, and she felt a little sorry that they had become a bit insecure with her insistence that she help out. Surely, they must have felt that she was trying to take over their jobs or that they were being irresponsible by letting her do the manual labour.

"You don't need to worry, you know." Cagalli said smilingly. "I'm not really letting both of you slack. It's just that I thought I'd like to do a little around the house too. You might call it boredom put to good use."

"But you've been training all morning with Epstein," Cartesia said plaintively. "Aren't you tired? Shouldn't you take a rest?"

She shook her head, her grin becoming a bit forced. The morning's training had been particularly strenuous, with hand-to-hand combat first, then shooting next. Epstein was very good at what he'd learned, and she had found herself being tripped and basically being thrashed by him. Still, she'd had a good workout, and that had kept her thoughts at bay for a while. "No. I want to do this."

They were perhaps not aware that Cagalli had a habit of finding work to do when she was troubled. For that matter, Cagalli wasn't that aware of it herself. It just seemed that there was so much to do around the house suddenly. There were floors to scrub and re-scrub, windows to wipe and then wipe a little more- and there were so many things she did not want to have to consider.

As Cagalli tiptoed carefully on the chair to get at the highest window, the twins seemed to grow even more anxious. Yet, she waved away their concern, feeling a little more insistent now.

"Mr. Estragon's coming back this evening." Cartesia said after a pause. Beside her, Laplacia nodded as well. From where she stood, Cagalli noticed they resembled tiny sprites- pale and incandescent with their hair color and milky skin. If she had noticed how unusual they'd looked before, in the morning light, they looked even more different than the average person.

"He will probably be back soon." Laplacia added. "He's been gone for some time already, right? And he will probably want dinner. What would you like to have, Miss Cagalli?"

"Anything's fine by me, really." She said gently. They exchanged silent conversations with their glances, and she knew what the twins were thinking. She hadn't been eating well, and nothing they made would change her lack of appetite. While Cagalli had helped to whip up a simply scrumptious meal for lunch, one that had made Epstein and Ko start raving, she hadn't been able to take more than a few bites.

"Would you like to rest and paint a little more in the gardens?" Cartesia asked hesitantly. "Before Mr. Estragon comes back?"

Cagalli looked over her shoulder, but said nothing. What they had not verbalized was clear however. He would want to meet her, and Cagalli ought not to have been here, getting herself flustered and working over the floors and windows.

"No. I'd rather stay here." Cagalli said finally. Her voice was very even and it sounded neutral, possibly because her face was turned to the window and her arms were still hard at work. "I'm not so keen on painting much," She told them apologetically. "I think I ran out of things to paint. But not wash, apparently."

They returned her smile a bit unwillingly.

"I have a few more hours left. I suppose the other wing will require some cleaning too." Cagalli continued to ignore their rather obvious worry towards what she was doing. Surely, Epstein must have told the twins that she would not be here for very long more. Right now, Cagalli hadn't mustered the strength to tell the same to Ko.

Instead, she stepped down from the chair, looking at her handiwork. The windows were all gleaming, and her arms were aching, but Cagalli was glad for the exhaustion that was creeping into her.

"Miss Cagalli," Laplacia sounded even more timid than usual. "You've already mopped and swabbed all the floors of the West Wing."

"Not the windows," Cagalli said with more cheer than she really felt. The washing liquid foamed and hissed in her hands, and she was aware that the skin of her fingers were peeling and curling up. It did not hurt her though. Nothing would hurt her more than thinking of how the days were slipping past her.

As she took the pail, water and scrub, the twins tried to prevent her from doing so. But Cagalli ignored them and began to march down a corridor. They did not follow, only staring worriedly at her back.

She liked this, Cagalli decided.

She liked not having to think.

There were rosary beads in his hand, like black moles strung together and pressed tight like individual curses on the flesh. A small cross glinted in the light, but it was chipped and it made the rosary look aged and overused.

That was the first thing that Athrun noticed as he stepped into the room. The light had been dimmed, and the coffin was still empty, but Greyfriars was kneeling there, bowing his head before it.

Greyfriars was on his knees, praying. To whom, Athrun was not so sure, because Greyfriars had once told him that he had never believed in God. But of what Greyfriars was praying about, Athrun knew. Today was the anniversary of Greyfriars' wife and children's deaths.

The bouquets of red clovers were everywhere, and Athrun looked at those wistfully. As the national flowers of Denmark, Greyfriars loved those. He'd even given some to Athrun, and Athrun had passed those to Ko, who'd planted them eagerly. But those red clovers and the ideals that Greyfriars had fought for had eventually cost his family their lives.

As Athrun stepped in and closed the door, Greyfriars got up heavily and moved towards him. Without a word, they sat down at the usual chairs and tables and Greyfriars poured out some tea.

The air might have held some normalcy, except that Athrun knew there was nothing normal about this place. Greyfriars seemed fine, but he was not, and Athrun knew that the façade of sophistication belied a man who cared only for revenge now.

The tea was steaming between them, and Athrun wondered how long more they would have to continue this charade.

"Do you think I should have continued to lead the Danish to protest?" Greyfriars asked quietly. He looked at the red clovers, frowning a little.

Athrun shook his head. "I don't know."

There had been plenty of Danish who had frequently protested against their lack of independence. The Scandinavian Internal Security agents had often used reasons of protecting Scandinavia's internal security to round them up and have them prosecuted. Each one would face the death penalty without fail- their trials were for show when they were sent to Sweden and put in court. They'd started off peacefully, as most protests often went. Eventually. quite a few had turned to violence.

As a result of the show trials, the leader of the terrorists had resorted to more drastic ways of trying to demand for independence, still believing that once Denmark had independence, the protests and the show trials and the need for prosecution would be gone.

That had only led to more news being covered up in Scandinavia and more show trials for the Danish that the Internal Security agents got their hands on. In so many ways, Greyfriars had spurred the protests to its heights and given Pietre Harraldsson the cover and reasons that he needed to continue sentencing those he despised to their deaths.

"Maybe your wife and children would have lived if you hadn't taken charge and led the protesters." Athrun admitted. "As would have so many men who joined in the resistance against Scandinavia's inclusion of Denmark and Sweden's poor management of your country."

Athrun knew though, that even if Greyfriars and so many others hadn't fought for independence, they would have still been rounded up under another cover and been sent to Sweden for some crime they had not really committed. They would still have been handed the death sentence along with their families even if there was no solid proof of some crime they would have been accused of.

After all, there were some in the world who would never approve of Coordinators having relationships with Naturals, let alone starting a family with children that were of that mixed blood.

"I suppose," Athrun told him, "We don't really know if continuing to protest was better than not continuing."

Greyfriars got up and left the table. Kneeling before the empty coffin again, he closed his eyes. Athrun came to him, standing besides him and watching the man.

"I don't know either. But that's why Denmark must have independence." Greyfriars murmured quietly under his breath. Athrun watched him carefully. "We've sacrificed so much that we can't turn back now."

What Greyfriars didn't know was that the Danish protesters and terrorists were not being prosecuted and put through show trials per say. Plenty of those who were rounded up and prosecuted were of mixed heritage or Coordinators, even if they were first and foremost, Danish protesters or even terrorists. Even if these men had not been protesters or terrorists, the internal security agents would find plenty of other things to incriminate them for. The irony was that many of these protesters had given a cover that the agents could use without having to accuse them of other crimes.

Many of those facing prosecution had been Danish protesters or terrorists, although Greyfriars had not realized that they were not being targeted merely for that reason.

And for that, Greyfriars had never really realized the real reason why the internal security agents were so bent on wiping them out.

Greyfriars looked at him at this point. "I must thank you for your help. If you hadn't used your contacts to round us up and bring us to this place, many of our Danish comrades would not have survived."

"No, don't thank me." Athrun said dully. The Danish protesters had not been the only ones brought here, and the people bringing them here were certainly not business contacts either.

Moreover, Greyfriars was completely unaware that Plant's Secret Intelligence Council had used their long-time intelligencers to round up the Coordinators and Halfs in Denmark. Those could not be left in Scandinavia, where their eradication was a matter of time and opportunities that the Swedish internal security agents would allow.

Even now, when Athrun sipped his tea, he knew that Greyfriars still believed that Rune Estragon was a businessman who'd come here with the first few Coordinators to avoid the conflict before the First War.

Similarly, Greyfriars was not aware of what Pieter Harraldsson was really planning. In fact, Greyfriars didn't even know what Pieter Harraldsson had done for so many years.

Thankfully, Athrun thought, Erik Strumsson had caught onto his brother-in-law's plans fast enough. He'd escaped an untimely death through a very carefully-planned assassination that had never quite worked out seven years ago. As the Crown Prince's head bodyguard and trusted confidante, the First Eye, Sanders Gargery, had been who was instructed to kill the Crown Princess' Coordinator husband. Instead, Erisk Strumsson had been brought to the Isle, where he'd realised that the place could be a refuge. He'd met with the Eyes, then begged Plant to provide an asylum for the Coordinators and Halfs.

By more than coincidence, that had included the Danish terrorists. The whole lot of them had been transferred to the Isle, since it was mostly Denmark who'd continue to face the most of this women and children of Denmark who were either of mixed parentage or in mixed marriages were the next to be brought over. Those would be sent over to the Plants once they'd received medical treatment and Plant had arranged for them to go over. The men had been next.

Because Pietre Harraldsson had been very careful about targeting only the Danish terrorists first, the Eyes had been successful in shipping the refugees to the Plants. If they'd had to look out for the Swedish and Norwegian Halfs and Coordinators too, the Plants would have been unable to hold up with all the new refugees.

Of those who made it to the Plants, few were men. Many, if not all the men had joined Greyfriars. Like him, they'd believed that their persecution was because of their political ideals. They were not told otherwise by anyone, and until this day, they had continued to believe that. Plant simply did not want an extra, particularly dangerous party coming into the picture and getting in the way of operations. The Secret Intelligence Council had toyed with the idea of bringing the male refugees to the Plants too, rather than let them continue being on the Isle where they could find out what was really going on and interfere.

Of course, Plant wasn't keen to let the Danish terrorists go over either. Plenty of these men had become quite unstable from what they'd been though. But Plant need not have worried. The Danish terrorists had stayed behind, glad to have a secret place to use as their base for launching their attacks against the Swedish Heads.

So the Intelligence Council decided that letting the terrorists stay on the Isle would be fine so long as they kept to themselves and were not aware of the Eyes, the Numbers, and Plant's hand in this at any point. The refugees who'd stayed behind had been brought to an un-numbered Isle.

Greyfriars had been more than happy to stay behind with his followers. While he knew that the Crown Princess' husband was seeking refuge as well, he left Erik Strumsson alone. Erik Strumsson had always been sympathetic towards Denmark in the past, and for that, Greyfriars would not harm him. It had been Erik who'd convinced Greyfriars to take all his men and move to another portion of the Isle, where they could mourn in peace for those loved ones who'd lost their lives.

But eventually, Greyfriars had done more than mourn.

In fact, Athrun reflected, nothing would make Greyfriars leave Scandinavia as long as Denmark didn't get its independence.

While taking refuge, Greyfriars had made his plans for a final push.

Someone had to be a sacrifice- someone powerful and significant- someone who the world had its eyes on. It had to be someone who would cause inquiries to be made to the point that the Sweden's cruelty towards Denmark's plight would be in the open, along with the terrorists' existences that had been hushed up until that point.

Those plans had involved Cagalli Yula Atha, and Plant had become aware of those.

They'd known it would be some time before those were carried out, and they'd saved the information, being very quiet about it. Finally, they'd requested Athrun to extend his contract when his three years had been up. Eventually, Athrun Zala into the picture through Lyra Delphius, and he'd lived his double life for nearly four years now.

In the meantime, Rune Estragon, the Fifth Eye, continued receiving the shipments.

Over the past four years, the refugees who were of Coordinator descent or Coordinators, had been sent over to the Fifth Isle. From there, they would be then brought to the Plants. They always came as batches- a small but steady stream that never aroused too much attention, but left Scandinavia to a place where they'd be safer.

Although the Eyes had instructed Athrun to let them camp in the remote hill areas, Athrun had never allowed that.

For all his growing bitterness at choosing to stay on with an extended contract, Athrun couldn't let the refugees freeze in the cold outside. He'd taken them in and given them certain rooms within an entire wing to use in his stronghold. They would be sheltered until it was time for them to leave for the Plants.

That had continued for each subsequent batch, even when Cagalli had been brought to the Fifth Isle. She'd been unable to unlock certain rooms and she had been prohibited from entering certain portions of the place, including a whole wing.

The first shipment of refugees that Leopold Wasser and Orlick Churchill had rounded up had been about twenty shivering scraps of children and a few rather battered, tired women who'd been on the run for a long time. Many were badly injured at the hands of the internal security agents too, and plenty of them could not find jobs on the streets because they were shunned. It was a matter of time before the agents caught up to them and took them off for interrogation too.

Both Eyes were traveling businessmen to the rest of the world. One was involved in international delivery services and the other was in charge of a very large job-finding agency that functioned mostly underground. It was the perfect cover. Orlick Churchill would meet desperate, hungry people who were the poorest and the most despised in Sweden, and after probing, he would identify those as the Danish families who'd gone to Sweden and were hoping to hear of news of their fathers or husbands. They wanted jobs, and he would offer them jobs in Plant. They would be shipped off by Leopold Wasser, who ran both air freights and ships. Those of course, had been equipped with the same technology that Nicol Amalfi's mobile weapon had been equipped with all those years ago.

But amongst the first batch of refugees, Athrun had found nobody willing to look after two young girls. The rest of the children had their mothers even if they did not have their fathers. The two girls were very young, with light coloured hair and eyes. The elder had attacked him viciously when Athrun had tried to bandage her wounds, and the younger had tried to run. Leopold had been quite impressed at how defensive they were.

They didn't seem to have anyone they'd come along with- no mother and no relative. He'd asked around, but all the Eyes could find out was that their guardian had stayed behind in Denmark instead of getting aboard the ship with them.

As a result, Athrun had been asked to take and train them as his second and third aide.

The twins, Athrun believed, were Halfs too. He had never asked for checks on their genetic makeup, but he believed that they were not pure Coordinators or Naturals. After all, they'd been rounded up as part of the women and children refugees and sent to his Isle.

The only difference was that they would not ever make it to the Plants.

"For some time now," Greyfriars asked, interrupting the silence that had gone on for some time. He was still kneeling at Athrun's side, but now he turned to look at his right-hand man. "I've been wondering how you could get the Danish women and children refugees to the Plants. Aren't their immigration checks quite stringent?"

"It is true that Plant doesn't just accept anyone in there," Athrun told him, hiding the lie between truths quite smoothly. "It's just that having the right contacts gets you anywhere."

"I see." Greyfriars said slowly.

Athrun remained quiet, thinking of all he'd been doing as part of his duties for the past few years.

While Plant had considered denouncing Scandinavia openly- in particular, Sweden, for persecuting anyone with Coordinator ties. However, it couldn't declare war on Scandinavia because it would mean risking Plant's still-recovering economy.

Plant's Intelligence Council also couldn't let the Halves die. It decided to have them rounded up, sent to the Isle first as a waiting ground, then sent them to the Plants quietly.

The Sarasponde was near the Cliffside of the Fifth Isle. That was the shuttle grounds where Epstein could send the women and children to the Plants with his piloting skills and his small ship. And that had been exactly why Athrun had insisted on removing Lyra from that area. While the Sarasponde was also equipped with the rather useful camouflage-technology that Nicol Amalfi's unit had, the sound of a large vehicle taking off could not be made invisible.

The Eyes had been given very specific instructions.

On no account where they to let the first Isle-dwellers know that there were more people coming onto the Isle and being sent off to the Plants. If they knew, all those original Coordinators would demand to go to the Plants too. Plant's Intelligence Council though, certainly would not need lawbreakers and criminals joining them- even if they did take pity on the Halfs and wanted to provide for them.

Athrun had wondered whether others had a right to judge the first Isle-dwellers and the second group of refugee-seekers the way they had. He had grappled with his own conscience, wondering if guarding the first group was wrong. He had also wondered whether allowing the second to go to the Plants when the first group had innocent people amongst them who had to stay on the Isle reeked of double standards. It was too difficult to divide the right from the wrong and the innocent from the guilty. It was far too problematic to try to.

Of course, Athrun thought wearily, all this would not matter any more. Neither did his past anger, his past thoughts of revenge, his bitterness or his need to clear his name and his father's. Nor did what his employers had promised him. Neither Cagalli's acts of betraying him, nor her acts of going against her ideals mattered to him. All that wasn't part of what he wanted to be concerned with.

As Greyfriars continued to pray, Athrun said his own prayer.

All he wanted was to ensure that Kira would get there in time, and all he cared about was that Cagalli would return to Orb safely.

In his office, Yzak was facing the worst temper he'd ever broken out into since he had graduated as the second best student in the Zaft academy for officers. While his office was soundproofed, there was actually quite a real risk that someone would hear what he was saying, for his rage was making him speak louder than necessary, and his shoulders were squared in his anger.

"I can't believe you're actually having a relationship with her! How dare you? I trusted you to do your job, and I warned you time and time again that you had to be very careful with her! And now this? What was going through your head?"

Athrun did not sounded particularly guilty. "Sorry, Seven."

"You're not sorry at all!" Yzak was enraged. "Were you even heeding my advice when I told you not to get too close with her?"

There was a silence on the other line, and Yzak felt his blood pressure rise. For years now, he had been working in the Secret Intelligence Council of Zaft and Plant's Supreme Council. Athrun Zala was a responsibility he'd taken upon himself by insisting to the other members that the person he was recommending could get the job done well.

It was supposed to be fairly straightforward by the usual intelligencer standards.

Athrun Zala, alias Rune Estragon, was to extend his contract indefinitely. His duties included leading the double life as a trusted person within the Danish terrorists' circles to trace their plans, and to continue his duties as an Eye for the original Isle-dwellers.

Later, his instructions had included meeting the Orb Princess, being in charge of convincing her to go to a safe place away from the SS Rafael's conflict, and to bring her to the Isle. At that time, the Numbers had yet to decide what to do with her upon bringing her to the Isle, for it would have really depended on what Orb did and how Scandinavia would respond.

Yet, Athrun Zala had not been unable to convince Cagalli Yula Atha to give her permission and leave the SS Rafael that night. Quite infuriatingly and quite conversely, he had taken her to the Isle against her will and in a puddle of blood. While her injuries were self-inflicted wounds, there were more serious problems.

The night after she'd disappeared, the Orb government had immediately declared a state of emergency as it had no more Orb Head to lead them out of the mess of foreign relations. The one problem with Cagalli Yula Atha was that she was too dependable- too reliable, too absolutely necessary. Nobody could have stepped up to take her place from within Orb without being questioned and accused of being an instigator in her mysterious disappearance.

Nor had Sweden done anything to help the situation.

The most they'd done was to increase the suspicions that the Swedish Royals had captured her. The Scandinavian region was entirely sealed off to Orb right after Cagalli Yula Atha's vanishing, and Sweden had insisted on doing its own investigations.

Angered, Orb had went to the Galactic Courts, while Sweden had insisted that Orb could not enter. The courts had considered Orb's plea and Sweden's request to handle the situation, and it had eventually ruled that six months were the period that Sweden would have to find the Orb Princess and account for her disappearance. Failing that, Orb would have the permission to enter Sweden and the whole of Scandinavia to conduct its own investigations.

While the Numbers had pondered what to do over the injured Orb Princess who had been recuperating at the Fifth Isle, the tensions between Orb and the Earth Alliance grew stronger, since the Earth Alliance was highly protective of its territory. If Plant had chosen to produce the Orb Princess, they would have had to explain why their intelligencer had been aboard the SS Rafael, and that would have meant giving away the secret of all the Isle-dwellers. The Numbers had been rather unwilling to do this.

Moreover, there was no telling what the Orb Princess would do upon returning to Orb if the Numbers let her go immediately after her recovery and before the six months were up. At that time, the Numbers had thought that she would probably order an investigation of the place she'd been held in. That would mean that the Galactic Courts would probably ask the Swedish Heads to submit their investigation reports.

Scandinavia would have then discovered the region they'd forgotten since past centuries, and there were the people that the Numbers had to protect living there still.

Of course, Yzak realised, even when they were about to let her go after six months, Orb was still going to want Scandinavia to explain where she'd been. The Isle could still be found if Scandinavia was obliged to comb its entire Plant had decided to keep her there for six months- the full period when it was safe for her to be there and when Orb had promised not to attack Scandinavia.

Six months was quite a bit of time. It would give the Eyes time to transport the Isle-dwellers away. Those Halfs and even the original Coordinators who were willing could leave the region. They'd be brought to either the Plants or some other Earth Alliance area if they wished, and their identities would be protected.

Up to this point, the Secret Intelligence Council's plans had gone quite well. While very few of the original Coordinators had agreed to leave the Isle because they had come to enjoy their enclosed lives so entirely, all the Halfs had left. That had been what the Numbers had expected.

But this!

Yzak hadn't expected this, even though he had suspected that it might happen.

He hadn't thought that Athrun would be so foolish as to give up the carrot that he'd been motivated by for so long. Yzak's fists curled.

The Numbers were some of the most powerful members of Zaft, the Supreme Council, and the Plant Cabinet. They had looked at the individual case of Athrun Zala and promised him a new identity and the reassurance that he would never have to serve the Plants or Zaft again as long as he completed his duty well.

So far, Yzak had been helping Athrun whenever the latter made little slips. Thanks to Yzak, Athrun had gotten away with bringing an injured princess to the Isle. Yzak had even covered up for how Athrun had nearly let her get killed by some madman, and how Athrun had brought her out of the manor and actually let her meet those Coordinators protected by the Eyes. He had kept that away from the rest of the Numbers, in hopes that Athrun would get what he wanted when he'd agreed to work on the Isle.

But now, Yzak was seriously doubting whether Athrun was sane or whether he knew what he really wanted.

By getting close to Cagalli Yula Atha, there was no doubt the advantage that Athrun would be able to convince her to stay. But Athrun had gotten this close to the captive, and if she returned and that was found out, Athrun would not be able to excuse his conduct as part of his duty.

Ethically, there was no justification for it, let alone legally in the eyes of Plant, Zaft and certainly not the Galactic Courts.

Yzak slammed his fist on the table, thoroughly upset by Athrun's silence. "How did things land up this way? I have solid evidence and testimony now that you've gotten close to her. Even if I order Miles Summon not to say anything, do you actually think that nobody will know and that nobody will ever find out? You are too close to her!"

Athrun did not say anything, but that made Yzak angrier.

"And don't tell me you have no idea what the definition of too close is." He seethed. "You've slept with the captive, haven't you?"

"Yes." Athrun told him quietly. "But she's not the captive. Cagalli's not."

Yzak felt his blood boiling. "Y-You-,"

"I'm not going to let her become some pawn for intergalactic peace and all the things Plant was planning for." Athrun said swiftly. "I don't care about that anymore. Not when I decided to have a relationship with her."

"You don't even care that the integrity and motivation for the Numbers and the Eyes' acts would be questioned?" Yzak demanded."Or even your own and by extension, your father's?"

"I'm sorry." Athrun answered firmly. "I did care at one point. But I cannot care more for it when she is more important to me."

Yzak was so close to blowing that he could almost hear something ticking in the distance. Of course, it was the clock in the corner of his office, but it did feel like the bomb within him. In any case, he tried to breathe deeply and asked, "What are you going to do now?"

"I don't know." Athrun said, realising he was being more honest than he'd meant to be. "Frankly, I don't plan to let anyone know we had a relationship."

"Then why have it at all?" Yzak questioned savagely. "If you have to keep it a secret when you're with someone, then you shouldn't be with the person at all."

"I thought so in the past. I thought more of what I was promised too." Athrun said tranquilly.

His tone was so sad and peacefully that Yzak wondered if he'd really lost it. Had this former child prodigy become some nutcase who'd tried crack at one point or another? Or had something happened to Athrun Zala that Yzak had missed?

Athrun seemed to become more assured with what he was saying, which put Yzak in a rather nervy state. "But then I decided that having a few months with her and loving her would be good enough. Cagalli belongs to me- not some invisible organization like the Numbers or even for Orb."

Yzak roared in his frustration and anguish. "So you mean you had your own plans all this while, Athrun Zala?"

"Yes." The lack of hesitation made Yzak even more angry.

"You mean nothing mattered except your relationship with her, never mind that your head will roll if and once the truth comes out?"

"Yes." Again, Athrun showed no hesitation. "I'm sorry, Yzak."

"We ordered you to keep her safe, and I told you that you had to lock her in your manor for all that time and not let her discover anything else." Yzak fretted. He was standing in front of the voice modulator, but at the same time, he began to pace on the spot, doing something like a funny shuffle. He was so vexed, he wondered if his hair would turn whiter than it already was.

"But you went this far with her! I can only hope neither of you breathe a word in the courts that you had a relationship during this time or in the past! Have you forgotten that you, under our instructions, were to get close to the terrorists and to find out what their motivations were? You're not exactly gaining their trust by refusing to hand her over, and worse still, you've given them a reason to suspect that you want to keep her for yourself!"

"They don't know we're in a relationship either." Athrun retorted.

"But often, smoke arises simply because there is a fire!"

"I will handle it." Athrun sounded rather adamant. "I am prepared."

"What do you want me to say when the Galactic Courts make their inquiries?" Yzak demanded. "Wait- we don't even have to think that far. What do you want me to say to the Supreme Council of Plant when the Secret Intelligence Council gives the report of what our intelligencers have been doing? We can give you a lawful excuse for having her chained up and even the fact that you brought her to the Isle without her consent. But this? You slept with her- that is a fact. That is insubordination to our rightful cause because it invites attacks from Orb, the Earth Alliance, Scandinavia and definitely the Galactic Courts! I don't think you can deny that, no matter how you may try and twist this around to argue that."

"This was a choice that she and I made." Athrun's voice was very determined. "It isn't anyone else's business."

Yzak laughed cynically. "So you want to argue that it was consensual now? Don't be naïve, Zala! You know it was never about consent. You might as well have forced yourself on her- it would make no difference in the eyes on the Galatic Court, let alone to the first authority you answer to! Plant and Zaft's instructions were very specific. The point is that you were not supposed to have any relations with the captive."

"How could I not grow close to her?" Athrun was the one demanding now. "Even if I cut off all thoughts of the past, I was her caregiver. I was the one who had to visit when she started becoming violent and self-destructive. Are you seriously telling me that I could have avoided any kind of relations with her?"

"I am telling you that you could have avoided this relationship with her! The sort that you are currently indulging in!" Yzak roared.

"I don't need you to defend me in the inquiries where this is concerned." Athrun said tensely. "I will tell the truth and say that we made individual choices regardless of our obligations and duties."

"Don't be an idiot, Zala! There is no way you could possibly claim that even if it was true. Do you actually think that anyone would believe you? Face what you've done and think about it," Yzak said fiercely, "If the fact gets out in court that you have feelings for her, let alone were sleeping with her, it will never go in Plant's favor."

"I know." Athrun muttered.

"I can imagine the prosecutors already. They will probably say that Plant's intelligencers made use of an emotionally-vulnerable, slightly disorientated captive. They kept her staying where she was placed, and the proof of that is how she could have escaped but did not, and how she was even made to write letters that worked in Plant's favor." Yzak was pacing properly now, and it was a frantic march that made him wonder why he did not seem to become calmer.

"The immunity from questioning that you obtained for us will definitely be taken back, but I'm not so worried about that. I have never expected that to be a golden ticket into and out of courts. I'm more worried about how the letter you sent was a controlled opportunity for Plant to enter into Orb and Scandinavia's relations as a supposed neutral and supposed impartial mediator! Imagine what kind of accusations the prosecutors would be hurling against Plant!"

Athrun had not said a word.

"And they could easily find proof along with the fact that you've been conducting an intimate relationship with the captive. This could be so easily made an accusation that we wanted Orb to attack Scandinavia right from the start! The fact that you were there and acting on Plant's orders to bring her to a supposedly safe place would work well in favor of that accusation!"

When Athrun spoke again, Yzak heard desperation in his voice. "I know. I know all that. If the courts accuse Plant of instructing their intelligencer to use the Orb Princess to their interests, I am prepared to deny that there were such instructions. At least all the fault would fall on me."

"Don't tell me that," Yzak said angrily, feeling guilt worm at him. Had he really thought that Cagalli Yula Atha would not feel anything more for Athrun Zala and vice versa? How had he ended up convincing himself that Athrun was better off meeting this woman again and having a closure to the lost chances of the past? How had Yzak convinced himself that Athrun would not try and chase it all again?

Yzak knew he had been either drunk, overly optimistic or just plain deluded. He decided it was a mix of all three. "I put you in there because you promised that you could help it. I gave you the chance to hold onto her instead of sending her to another isle under another intelligencer because you promised there was nothing between you."

"Our relationship hasn't affected anything," Athrun said softly, and Yzak was half-triumphant and half-horrified to hear a note of pleading in his subordinate's voice.

"You think so? You really think so? Maybe it seems that way, but you knew from the start that getting too close to her would prevent you from exercising the right judgment you needed for your job. More than that, there is concrete proof that your relationship with her has affected the way Plant would have carried out its operations, and that the relationship you have with her gave us certain advantages. We convinced the Earth Alliance on behalf of Scandinavia and Orb that we were the right people to be the mediators, and that meant interfering with their relations. I hardly think your relationship hasn't affected anything." Yzak paused. "Unless you're telling me that you didn't feel anything for her that made you send the letters."

Yzak shook his head.

"You've put your colleagues in the way of danger in the past- I can excuse that insubordination that got Sanders Gargery killed. But sending a letter with her seal- extorting Orb citizenship rights from her- what do you want me to say?"

"I was helping Plant get immunity from the Galactic Court's questioning."

"Bollocks!" Yzak cried. "That was my work! At very best, you were trying to help Plant come into the picture between Orb and the Earth Alliance in a lawful way! I know you helped us become the mediator, but how did you get her to give you the seal?"

"She told me it was the only thing that would make Kira believe that it was truly from her."

"Yeah, but what if she goes back to Orb and tells them you forced it from her? Orb could well accuse Plant of trying to find a way to get involved in this, and our operations concerning the Isle could all spill out in a way that we don't want!"

Athrun had made the one mistake that would be too much for anyone to cover up, and Yzak knew Athrun would never get away with it. "I should have seen this coming- I was supposed to know what to do with you-," He paled. "Don't tell me she's carrying your child-,"

"No." Athrun's voice sounded weary. "But in many ways, it would be easier for me to do what I planned if she was."

"You- what are you planning?" Yzak trembled with rage. How could Athrun throw everything away now for a short period and a relationship that would be impossible to sustain? Had Athrun really lost his marbles?

He paced yet again, feeling more agitated than he had ever felt. "Are you expecting me to defend you when she gets back to Orb and tells them that you seduced her? Not just enticed, Zala, seduced! Do you know the differences and the lawful consequences between both?"

"Yes. But it was neither."

"Tell that to the courts, who will never look at you as merely a person but as a Plant Intelligencer and Athrun Zala, son of Patrick Zala!"

Yzak's fist landed hard on his table. "Look, if she's desperate to cover what she agreed to as well, she might even claim you forced yourself on her! If the Galactic Court asks you to explain what your duties were as a Zaft Intelligencer working on the orders of Plant, what are you going to say? That it was your job to convince her to sleep with you? That screwing her was part of your official duties? I mean, what do you want me to do?"

"She wouldn't say that." Athrun said firmly. "She wouldn't ever betray me that way."

Yzak nearly torn his hair out.

"Look," Yzak snapped, "I know you think the world of her. I know she's probably had a hold on you that you weren't even conscious of, and I know she's very attractive. And you know what? I agree that she's the kind of person most men would like as their lover for various reasons. But that doesn't mean you put complete, blind, utterly baseless trust in her; just because she's breathed into your ear and told you that she loves you!"

"She's never told me that." Athrun's voice was very quiet.

"You see?" Yzak sounded savagely triumphant.

"And that's why I know that the promises she does make will not be broken." Athrun's stubbornness made Yzak feel drained suddenly. "Besides that, you owe me a favour."

"A favour?" Yzak spluttered. "How could you ask me for that now?" He thought about all the duties he'd been carrying, the promotion that was expected to come, the lives he had to look out for, and even Shiho, who hadn't known what he'd been up to for all these years as part of his job. What could Athrun possibly want now? "I don't owe you anything, Zala!"

"You do. You owe me a favour for telling the Secret Intelligence Council that I still had feelings for Cagalli Yula Atha. You owe me the favour, because you knew I would definitely extend my contract if they told me her life was in danger and you told the Numbers. You were responsible for letting me meet her again."

"Yes," Yzak argued, feeling the guilt pound into him. All he'd raised and berated Athrun for had really been the truth, although Yzak knew the root of it was the concern for his friend. He did not want to see Athrun throw away his future and all that was supposed to be his in this mad, strangely hopeful but momentary and never permanent chance at happiness. " I know I'm part of the reason why you met her again. But I'm not responsible for making you regain your feelings for her again- that's what I tried to prevent when I put you to the job! I wanted you to have closure!"

"I wanted to have closure too." Athrun admitted. "I never got it. But at least, I had her with me for these months. So I'm begging you. I'll take all the responsibility when the Galactic Courts question the Numbers. But I need you to ensure that Kira sends his troops to Sweden."

Yzak was silent.

They were drinking and laughing, and if anyone had been listening outside, they would have immediately assumed there was a couple having a fact, this was what James Marlin's butler was doing, and he was very glad to hear that his employer and the Orb Princess were hitting it off. He decided he wanted to make it more romantic for them, and he hurried away like a busy squirrel to dig out the store of red wine. Coffee and tea were far too unromantic.

But of course, the butler was the sort who suffered from watching too many office-romance serials and a general lack of awareness and imagination.

Cagalli and Marlin were doing nothing of the sort that required red wine, candles or flowers. Work papers were strewn between them even when they used the same couch, and the air was stuffy from the doors being closed since their meeting had ended. While the other ministers had left, there was still nothing particularly less stressful about the air. In fact, their drinks were caffeine-loaded and there was very little romance in the atmosphere.

But it was that precise, conspicuous absence that made Cagalli feel comfortable with James Marlin. It didn't matter that she was twenty-one and that he was twenty-eight. It didn't matter that she seemed immature when he seemed more than two decades older than her in his sophistication and his rather dark sense of humour. She liked that about him.

"I cannot believe you told the Britannian Minister of Health that he was being a bias old fart to his face!" She giggled. "I nearly spat out my coffee when you told him that you fully approved of Orb's proposal to invest in Britannia's health system."

"You know what he said to me after that?" Marlin said cheekily. "He accused me of being caught up with emotions and work and not using my head properly. He said Britannia was going to go bust under me- just because I supported your proposal."

Cagalli laughed more, but then thought of something and then piped down. "Crap. I hope he doesn't go tell any media member about your supposed motivations for agreeing to Orb's business ventures."

"Why are you afraid anyway?" Marlin was looking intently at her, although she did not notice it. "And that leads me to another question. Remember last week's ball?"

She'd accompanied him to an event in London, and she'd had a lovely time there. She had loved the dry wit the people around her had displayed, she had enjoyed their sarcasm and frankly, she had been entirely besotted by the pet cats some guests had brought along. She'd spent many a happy minute playing with those when nobody expected her to be dancing or eating.

"I loved Whiskers," Cagalli said happily. "And Gemma and Furball and Cocoa and Mouser and-,"

"Not the cats." Marlin interrupted, a grin erupting on his face despite his slight annoyance. How could she do this, he wondered? How could she affect him so much and then pretend not to know what she'd done to him? "I meant-," He faltered a little. "I meant us."

"Oh." She said in surprise. "Oh. Yes."

She had been his dance partner and they'd even been captured on the camera together. Orb's reporters had been highly excited about their princess being featured with someone for once, and Britannia had shown equal interest.

Marlin observed her. They'd met a year ago and became fast friends. Despite his excuses, Marlin knew that he had agreed to go along with some of the policies she wanted to forward as part of bilateral relations between Britannia and Orb because of what he knew he felt towards her. Frankly, very little of the proposals benefited Britannia as much as Orb gained from it.

"Are you afraid that if we try anything funny in public, they'll write bad stories about us?" He asked her boldly.

The drinks that the butler had brought in were getting cold. There was one cup of coffee for her, and one cup of tea for him. He did not like coffee, but he knew that it was her secret weapon.

"I'm not afraid of that." Cagalli said vehemently. "They wouldn't, anyway. They'd be too happy to write that the old maid's finally getting married and fulfilling her patriotic duties."

"Old maid?" He snorted. "How young are you again? How young and incredibly successful are you again, to the point that you don't really need to be some trophy wife for some second-rate prig?"

She shook her head, smiling a little. "You know, I nearly vomited blood when I read the Forbes Most Successful People of Our Times list."

"They featured the only woman I get along with, of course." He waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Excuse me," Cagalli said cynically, "I know that you visit the Bahamas for more than palm trees. You're lucky that the Britannian love your roguish image. It seems to me that you get along with lots of women."

"Not for reasons other than the sex." He pointed out.

"I resent that." She grimaced at him."You are a downright bastard at times, Jimmy."

"Hey, I didn't mean it in the misogynistic sense." Marlin defended himself. "Okay, maybe a little. Frankly, I don't expect much brains from women- they're too emotional and predictable. Many don't even know what they want."

"And that's why you get along with me?" Cagalli demanded. "Because I'm not stupid and I'm not emotional and I'm not predictable? Is that it?"

"But you buck the trend, it's true." Marlin looked at her in a way that she didn't expect- with tenderness. She wondered why she suddenly felt a pain in her that she didn't want to admit she felt. This pain and this longing- this regret- it was all part of her imagination. It had to be. There was no reason why she had to feel all this now.

The tenderness however, was familiar.

He took her hand gently, patting it in a not too sleazy way but staring at her with such gentleness that she felt distinctively uncomfortable. She did not want Marlin being so nice to her- she did not want Marlin looking at her like he was expecting her to say something. Why this sudden gentility, this sudden affection?

Awkwardly, she took her hand back.

Cagalli wondered if that was part of the flirting- she'd imitated his cheekiness when she had decided to flirt back with him a long time ago, but wasn't that what friends did? Wasn't that what Aaron and she did too? Was tenderness part of the equation now? Because if it was, Cagalli didn't know if she was capable of responding.

"Besides," Marlin added, as if sensing she wasn't so comfortable with the silence. "You can discuss politics, and that adds a hundred points for you."

"Why, thank you." She said dryly. "It's part of my job, right?"

"Well, yeah. But you do it fabulously."

Cagalli had been a bit surprised when she'd realized that he was flirting with her all that time ago, but she had not been as adverse to it as she'd first expected.

To tell the truth, Marlin's attentions were flattering, even if they were not always encouraged or wanted. He was a looker, that was for sure, and nobody had flirted so aggressively with her before. Nobody had dared to or seemed to want to. Not even-

"Anyway," She said hastily, cutting away from the thoughts that she knew were of dangerous topics. "They featured me on that list and started their write-up with these exact words. Wait for it." She cleared her throat. "For a woman, Cagalli Yula Atha is more than a force to be reckoned with." She punched an invisible enemy that probably had the words 'Forbes Editors' on it. "The nerve!"

"Er-?" He cocked his head, not getting it. "I was expecting an insult."

Cagalli threw her hands up in the air. "You! You're one of them too!"

He still looked confused.

"I want you to tell me the truth now." Cagalli said firmly, settling nearer to him and grabbing his face with her hand. He looked into her eyes and he felt himself feeling a little strange- like he'd met someone he wanted to know as thoroughly as his own parents. "Tell me what your colleagues think of me."

"Competent, driven, ambitious, intelligent." He ticked off some of the things they'd said about her. "They also think you're a knock-out and some of my male colleagues think you look great in the military uniform, which forgive me," He looked apologetically at her, "- I really hate. The red, blue and white makes you look like a butch."

"What else?"

"Focused, a bit ruthless- in the good way, of course," He added hastily, watching her expression fall, "They think you're one of the few who are God's gift to politics and Orb's economy. Skilled- more than skilled, if you ask me- and very amazing for a woman." The words left his mouth before he realized what he'd said. She took her hand away, looking a bit hurt.

"Is that all they think of me?" She demanded. "Some woman who lucked out and made it big in politics?"

"Why do you hate that?" He asked inquisitively.

Cagalli looked disbelievingly at James Marlin- alpha male in the prime of his life, who had the media at his feet without even having to work. His good looks were an asset that he milked, but she had seen his female counterparts in politics suffer when they made mistakes. They'd suffered the consequences of being both female and attractive.

"Why do you hate being labeled a woman-politician so much?" He asked for the second time.

"Excuse me, what's the question again?"

He smirked. "Okay, point taken."

And she laughed, clinging deliriously to his shoulders. The boardroom they were in wasn't a very big one, but it had a door conjoined to his living room in the temporary place the Britannian Embassy in Orb had arranged for him to stay in.

"I'm not really afraid of what they could say about me though," Cagalli said bluntly, pushing her fringe out her face as they huddled closer on the sofa. They were still sitting normally, she observed, but the proximity was certainly not normal or proper. But it was ten at night, her house was two hours away from here if she called the chauffeur, and she wondered whether the tea was still warm. "Even now. Like what we're doing- this is flirting, isn't it?"

"I'm glad you finally realized."

He grabbed her face, looking at her intently. "Don't turn away. Try it."

"Try what?"

" Us."

Of course, she laughed it off. If Marlin had been someone she hadn't cared two hoots for, she would have simply packed up and left. But the thought of the empty house, the thought of how she hadn't been willing to be friendly with anyone for this long had made her stay. The fact that he was looking at her in a way that made her feel insecure but quite faltered compounded it. She knew what all those thoughts cumulated into. It was loneliness.

And when Marlin whispered his dare to her, she nodded boldly, although a little piece of her broke when his lips touched hers experimentally.

Then he was kissing her mouth, tugging her to him. She froze, for she hadn't expected that. She expected a light graze, a small peck- anything that would remind her that this was all play and simply nothing to think much about.

But as he pulled her in demandingly, she felt herself remember what it was like to be kissed- what it was like to be wanted and what it was liked to be liked. This was familiar- even if painfully so. But why painfully?

She didn't want to feel or remember what the rain on her cheeks had felt like.

Almost defiantly, Cagalli began to kiss him back, not resisting anymore. She closed her eyes as he stroked her cheek, letting him part her lips further. She despised this feeling of being lost. She despised the pain that was blossoming in her again. She despised this loneliness that was plaguing her. She despised him. She despised herself. She despised herself for letting herself be weak and needing someone again.

When they parted momentarily, she felt dazed although there was a building nausea in her. He reminded her of someone else. She didn't want to be reminded or have to remember.

But she was spared the dilemma of wondering what to feel towards Marlin, this man who'd suddenly appeared and seemed to be interested enough to flirt with her, at very least. A knock on the door sounded, and they pulled apart just in time.

And almost casually, they let go of each other immediately as the butler bustled in to refill their cups and to give them a cheery wave. "Red wine, sir?"

"Er- no thanks, Banks, it's fine," Marlin looked a bit ruffled.

"More milk?" The butler inquired, looking bashfully at Cagalli. She shook her head, fighting back her nervous laughter.

"More sugar?"The butler questioned Marlin.

"No, no-," Marlin looked both amused but rather annoyed. He snuck a glance at Cagalli, who did not seem to have swooned from his kiss but was looking a bit confused and more interested in the rather strange, matronly butler. At that point, Marlin cursed the butler inwardly.

And the distance between them seemed to grow into an ocean even after the butler closed the doors and disappeared right after bowing.

"So?" Marlin inquired, smiling recklessly. "Are you still afraid?"

"I'm not really afraid if someone takes a photograph." Cagalli ended, her cheeks flaming, watching the butler retreat and close the doors he hadn't bothered knocking on. She wondered if the kiss had felt nice. It had, in its own way. He was a good kisser, that was for sure. It had felt nice enough.

She wondered why she was trying to convince herself that she had felt nice when he'd kissed her.

He laughed. "If the papers call you a lesbian-,"

"Look, they've called me that and worse." She said flatly.

"Alright." Marlin said mischievously. "Given that they've called you unsavory names because of the lack of a man next to you, what are you going do to about it?"

She looked surprised. "Am I supposed to do anything about it?"

He nodded. "Image-control, right?"

"Can't be bothered." Cagalli said flippantly, although she knew she cared, deep down inside of her.

"Haven't you ever had a date before?" Marlin asked curiously. "Haven't heard of anything other than official events."

"That's because I can control the media, you know." She grinned at him. "Even if I chose to have a harem, I don't think they could report it if I enacted the right clauses."

"Well," He said suggestively. "That's good then. I was thinking that it might be a bad thing if your chauffeur told anyone in the media that all the ministers left an hour ago but you're still here."

"A timely reminder." Cagalli hugged him, picking up her bag, swigging down the last of her tea.

It had been an interesting evening, she supposed. It had been a nice meeting that had gone quite smoothly with Britannia's ministers. Nice. Nice. Nice. Everything was nice. There were few other words she could think of these days. Nice. Not Nice. Un-Nice.

This had been nice, she decided. She felt a wave of frustration wash into her and Cagalli wanted nothing more than to go home suddenly. Yet, she'd accomplished quite a bit today.

She should have been celebrating- telling someone who would listen if she said that she'd achieved so much today. And even then, Cagalli realized, that was mostly thanks to James Marlin, the Prime minister. Orb was set for a good year with its newly-forged business relations.

"Hey," Marlin protested, "We only started getting cosy. We didn't even get to kiss properly- the butler couldn't leave us alone." He shook his head.

"That was a dare I was about to chicken out on, Jimmy."

"Still." Marlin said insistently, "I'm sure he wouldn't pop in again if we did try for a second time. Are you really going now, Princess?"

Cagalli shook her head in disapproval. "Don't call me that, Jimmy. You know how I hate it."

"Didn't your former boyfriends call you that when they wanted to put you in a good mood?" Marlin clucked his tongue cheekily. "Your one, true love must have been at your beck and call all day long, Princess."

"I chased them away before they could try it." She said wryly."And actually, I've never had a boyfriend."

"You're kidding!" He nearly shot out of his seat.

"No, I'm not." Cagalli shrugged. "It's a waste of time."

"You've got to be kidding me! Surely you've seen someone you fell head over heels for before? Like, men around you?" He ticked off an imaginary list. "Let's see- like maybe another Emir? Or an Orb noble at least?" She shook her head, laughing at the ridiculous turn of conversation. If Marlin hadn't been a close friend of hers, she would have ignored the conversation entirely. "Er- what about the clandestine sort?"

Cagalli rolled her eyes. "Have you been borrowing Aaron's chick-lit?"

"Maybe the coffee-boy who is more steamy than what he delivers?" Marlin piped up excitedly. "Or the postman who arrives once a week and smiles that million-dollar-smile at you? The bodyguard who protects you at all costs?"

She ignored the sudden skip her heart made. Casually, she put on her scarf and coat, noting that Marlin was still staring at her. Demandingly, she asked, "What?"

"I heard you talking to Ledonir Kisaka the other day, when he visited." He said quietly. "I heard him asking about Athrun Zala. He was a former bodyguard right?"

The genuine interest that Marlin was showing without knowing what was going through her head made her slightly nauseous. Why was he showing interest in what was probably the rumors resurfacing when the older staff of her office was a bit bored?

The interest he demonstrated reminded her of one watching a documentary about some rare, fascinating animal that lived too far away but could be found as a weak, defenseless specimen in a zoo enclosure, for people to prod and point at.

"I suppose he came here when he was lying low after the First War- because of what his father did. I heard he used to be one of your bodyguards. Do you remember him?" Marlin scratched his head slightly. "Or were there too many for you to remember him?"

She was at the doorway, but she close her eyes tightly, hoping Marlin wouldn't sense how tense she knew she was. She turned back to him, fighting to keep her expression neutral and her voice steady.

Softly, Cagalli said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"That means you haven't had a boyfriend before!" Marlin said in surprise, standing up now. "That means the bits of fluff and gossip I heard were untrue!"

"And what's the interest?" She snapped suddenly. She was suddenly in no mood for pleasantries. "Even if I had dated a thousand and three men before, what would it be to you, Marlin?"

He looked a little taken aback. "Nothing. Nothing at all." A small smile tugged its way to his lips again. "I just heard that-," He shook his head. "Never mind. I bet those were false anyway."

"What did you hear?" Cagalli demanded, highly affronted that people were gossiping about her as part of the lunchtime entertainment.

"I guess it's baseless, now that you said all that. But I heard that you were once in love with Athrun Zala."

"T-That's nonsense." Her throat was suddenly dry. "I didn't even know he was my bodyguard until he left. There were too many bodyguards around at any given point. If I noticed one as an individual, that would be a freak accident. I never knew Athrun Zala was around in Orb before the Second War, let alone one of the many bodyguards."

"Do you think he might have used a pseudonym?" Marlin seemed quite interested in this, much to her chagrin. "I don't think Orb would be so keen to let him around you if they'd realized who he really was."

"I suppose that's a possibility." Cagalli's voice was cold. "Even if I met him, I'm not sure I would feel anything for him. I've heard all sorts of bad things about him."

"Defector, madman's son, murderer-," Marlin was ticking off a list. "Yep, I guess it's unlikely you'd have let him near if you knew that he was Athrun Zala and not Mr. John Smith-pseudonym he pretended to be."

Suddenly, Cagalli wanted to cry. She began to say something, thought the better of it, and bit her lips pathetically. Marlin was watching her, and Cagalli decided she would rather remain apathetic and strong. At least, there would be one less person who'd seen the wrong side of her.

She turned back to the door, muttering a nearly unintelligible 'goodnight'.

It was the first time that she'd doubted whether she'd wronged Athrun by forcing him to leave Orb. It was not the first time that she felt as though she'd betrayed him.

She awoke, tears streaming down her face, the moonlight illuminating an empty bed. The shadows in the room cast queer, still shapes over the bed, diagonal and dark. In her nightgown, she felt strangely hollow, strangely empty, and strangely heavy.

Her hand strayed to her cheeks. Then realizing that the actions were pointless, she turned onto her stomach, burying her face in the pillows until they were quite soaked with her silent sobs.

She was being overly-emotional, she knew that. Athrun would return. It wasn't like he had left her here or anything. But why hadn't he come back by now?

Athrun had not returned despite what the twins had thought, and Cagalli knew that she would probably be unable to sleep for the rest of the night. Where was he? He hadn't said anything when he'd left the other day- not even when she begged him to stay for just another minute.

She'd spent her time waiting for him after dinner, but he hadn't returned.

The blankets he'd probably covered her with had slipped off when she'd woken up in a panic. Shivering, she pulled the covers up now, although those did little for her. Even the thick, down-layered quilt would not help the fear and insecurity in her, and the only thing that could remove the emptiness had been taken away when Athrun had left.

He was probably going to return to her by the morning, Cagalli hoped. Perhaps she'd be roused from her sleep with his warmth and his voice telling her that he had come back. He would maybe smile at her and let her nestle her head against him and tell her that he wasn't going anywhere for the next few days. Perhaps he would come back and slip into the bed and she'd wake up and find herself in his arms once more.

Her head was aching and the dull hum of something in her ears made her feel woozy. She leaned back a little more, trying to breathe normally.

Feverishly, she tried to hide herself from both the shadows and light alike. She was aware that she felt warm and cold at the same time, but perhaps that was just her imagination.

Cagalli gazed at the window, trying to calm down. The night was becoming colder and suddenly, she missed Athrun more than ever. She wanted to have his warmth near her- she wanted to have him hold her no matter how their time was running out. The night seemed frightening and ominous now, and a single cry from a wild animal beyond her made Cagalli feel very ill at ease.

But as she stared outside, half of her still prayed that the morning would never come.

Kira was growing impatient.

The area of state-owned water had been roped off, but the ships docked within it looked nothing like state-owned ships. These were small, innocuous, and even incongruously parked in those waters. Similarly, Kira was dressed not in an Orb uniform, but ordinary clothes that suggested he was going on a simple trip. The destination may have been anywhere in the world.

Kira had not informed Lacus of what he was up to. If he did, she would surely worry, and he did not want that. Nor had he allowed Aaron, Kisaka or Shinn along. They needed to keep watch on Orb for him.

Turning to Kisaka, Kira demanded, "Can't we move now?"

Kisaka patted his back, shaking his head. "They're trying as best as they can. It's an emergency and they understand that. But the troops need to make sure the coast is clear- literally- before you head to Sweden."

Their eyes travelled to the docks. Before them, there were five ships that appeared as fishing schooners. However, there were no fishes to be caught, even when the nets and trawlers seemed ready. Aboard the ships, there were no fishermen- only the Orb troops.

The sun did not seem to be particularly strong today and there were clouds everywhere. It would probably rain along the journey, and the sea could be rough to maneuver. But Kira knew there was no other way to get to Sweden.

Scandinavia and Sweden was rather far away but there was certainly no hope of a plane being able to land in there. Every air vessel had to be checked before it was allowed into the region, and those that were allowed in had to be invited in the first place. Over the past few weeks, the Scandinavian Heads had grown more and more anxious about the impending dateline. At the same time, they'd grown more paranoid of any plane coming in.

But a bunch of fishing schooners was different. Nobody was expecting soldiers dressed as fishermen, and Kira knew that these ships were more likely to get its way into that heavily guarded region.

"Frankly, I would feel a lot safer if you went," Kira confessed to Kisaka. "I cannot believe the Council of Elders wants you to stay put in Orb."

"Technically," Kisaka said heavily, "I'm Cagalli's guardian now, so I have to be around to read her will if-," He looked down at his rather clunky feet, his expression troubled. "If she doesn't come back."

"She's going to." Kira said fiercely. "I'll make sure of it. If she's not safe I-," He broke away, thinking of the letters he'd received from her. Each time, the letters had assured him of her safety. But the most recent one did not bear that good news, even if it still had her seal. In fact, the typewritten letter was entirely devoid of any attempt to state that it was from Cagalli.

Without another word, Kira strode to the deck, where he was preparing to set sail with the troops. There was no other way to do this, Kira thought firmly. He knew that even when he'd given his word on behalf of the Orb government to try and settle this dispute in a proper manner while abiding by the Galactic Court's decision, he could not ignore this letter.

There was no other way except to back out of the agreement that Orb had made with Scandinavia. Orb had originally abided by the Galactic Court's earlier decision. This meant that Orb had agreed to stay out of the region to give Scandinavia its six months to search for the princess and settle its internal problems.

However, Kira did not want to trust that agreement anymore.

As the captain of the main ship saluted to Kira, he returned it curtly, nodding and signaling that the doors should be sealed as the ship would set sail now. The things the men had packed along resembled fishing equipment from the boxes. But inside were their weapons.

While the soldiers on these five ships were decked in fishermen garb too, they were the best soldiers Orb had. They had already received the instructions. They were to search for Cagalli Yula Atha in every part of the designated place, and they had to bring down anyone who appeared to be harming her at that moment.

Kira did not know what to make of the instructions that the letter had come with. All he was absolutely sure of was that it was from Athrun Zala. He'd suspected that the person who'd sent the first letter Cagalli had written to him was someone she knew.

Who could be so meticulous and so willing to let her send it when it had its repercussions? Who would be convinced to let his or her captive write such a potentially dangerous letter? Who would let Cagalli Yula Atha say so clearly that she was still alive, and who could persuade Cagalli Yula Atha to divulge every detail of her personal seal?

He'd suspected a few people, but had settled on Athrun without knowing exactly why. That instinctive trust he found himself placing in the person who'd let Cagalli write this had pointed him in the direction of suspecting it was Athrun. After all, the person who let her write this had to be hidden away in some area, and the person had been hidden rather successfully too. Athrun Zala had sprung to his mind quite immediately.

Kira did have a way to test his rather baseless guess though. He'd told Yzak Joule about Cagalli's past, and a few days later, he'd gotten a letter from Cagalli reassuring him that she did not blame him. It could not be mere coincidence. That meant that Yzak Joule was in contact with Athrun, for only Athrun would feel responsible enough to let Cagalli write to Kira, and only Yzak had been told of Cagalli's past.

He felt the letter in his pocket. And helplessly, Kira said quietly for the umpteenth time, "What are you planning, Athrun?"

At this point, he still did not know.

As the screen folded shut, Athrun was pretty sure that he'd escaped yet another potentially problematic situation with the Numbers. Yzak had been rather cold towards him, but that was only to be expected. From what Athrun had deduced from the Numbers' general attitude though, Yzak had not told them about what he'd found out.

At least, Athrun thought with some relief, he'd survived this meeting.

Now, Sheba, Lent and Athrun were the only ones left in the room. Tom Edgeworth had bounced off after Barnett Romia had left to bake something or the other, and Leopold Wasser and Alstarice Krieg had gone off to discuss some business figures. Orlick Churchill had resumed training with his aides, ever consistent with his practice and discipline.

While the last shipment of refugees had been sent to the Plants, Athrun knew nobody had let their guards down. The Eyes were the best soldiers of Zaft, and none of them were likely to forget the danger they lived in at every moment of their lives on the Isle.

"What was it that you wanted to speak to me about?" Athrun asked tentatively. He took a sip of his coffee, sensing some awkwardness between the three of them.

Lent exchanged a glance with Sheba. "I think you have to be careful, Rune. Sheba here says that recently, Greyfriars has been entering the Swedish palace. He enters and nobody stops him or checks on him- which means that someone in there has given permission to him."

Athrun leaned back heavily, thinking hard. He could not think of any clear reason as to why Greyfriars had been leaving the asylum that Plant's Secret Intelligence Council had provided to visit anyone in the Swedish palace.

"The Crown Princess is still there, right?" Lent asked Sheba.

She nodded tensely.

Ever since she'd vanished, Sheba had been working ceaselessly to track her down. While it had been very difficult because Sheba had been sacked with so many other guards and servants from the Swedish Palace, Sheba had bribed a kitchen maid to tell her of where the Princess had been brought to and by whom.

Sheba looked troubled. "But I haven't been able to see Freja Magdalena. Nobody enters except two royal guards and her brother. They've told the rest of us that she's ill, but why go through all the trouble to pluck her from her quarters if that was the case? It looked like a kidnap then- but now I know it was a struggle more than anything else."

"Greyfriars didn't do it." Athrun recalled. "He told me he didn't, and he didn't have any reason to lie." His eyes darkened. "Now I know he was telling the truth. I suppose I will still have to ask him why he managed to get into the Swedish Palace, and what he was doing there."

"You do that," Lent nodded. "Maybe it's got to do with the lax security. The palace is in mourning now, because the High King has just died ."

Yesterday, the Swedish Palace spokespersons announced that the Crown Princess was too ill to take over. Furthermore, her husband was dead in the eyes of the world, although Athrun knew Erik Strumsson was still alive and kicking in Prague.

"So Pietre Harraldsson is the High King now." Sheba concluded. "Just like what we reported to the Numbers. It's too much really- he used to manipulate the old king all day long. And when he was put in charge of the internal security agents, I never knew you could do so much mischief with that power."

Lent shrugged. "I reckon he's always hated Coordinators to the point that he wants to wipe out the Halfs."

"Maybe because he felt marginalised when the Crown Princess married a Coordinator. Erik Strumsson seemed to be more influential than Harraldsson when the former married into the Swedish Royal family and took on Harraldsson's previous posts of influence. Remember how Harraldsson used to be part of the council that managed Denmark? When Erik Strumsson came in, Harraldsson had opposition to his ideas of controlling Denmark very tightly." Sheba questioned. "And he was often rude to Erik Strumsson too. It's funny though- it's such a childish, petty thing to be jealous of your brother-in-law. The Crown Princess doted on her husband and her brother so much, and she often remarked to me that her brother never seemed quite fond of her husband, despite how her husband cared for him."

Athrun rubbed his temples. "Erik always suspected that the Crown Prince was waiting to take over his father's position, and that's why he was so displeased when Freja Magdalena married. She wasn't expected to, you know. She was always weak and very fragile, right?"

Sheba nodded. "But she ended up marrying and that put Pieter Harraldsson off-course. Not for long, though."

"But Harraldsson is a child." Lent reminded all of them. "It's hard to determine his age by looking at him, and he's very mature and intelligent too. But he is a child, and that's why it's even more unbelievable that he orchestrated all these attacks by manipulating the right people."

Athrun looked at them indifferently. "It remains that the six months are almost up now. What do you want me to do, Lent?" He looked at Sheba coolly too. "I will take revenge on him for you, Sheba. Greyfriars has agreed to help me get hold of him."

"But I don't want that!" Sheba said abruptly, her voice rising as she slammed her hand down on the table. "Not when it's someone who killed so many innocent children helping to nab the person who killed Sanders!"

"Don't forget that Greyfriars and the terrorists weren't responsible for the schoolhouse massacres in Sweden. Remember?" Lent reminded her. "The papers from Scandinavia reported that they were responsible for those terrorists acts. But their own children died in those blasts. How could they be responsible? They wouldn't kill their own children just to proclaim their cause and desire for independence."

She stood up, pacing anxiously. "Still, I don't trust Greyfriars. There's no one I can trust except the Numbers and my colleagues."

Athrun could see why she had little faith in the Danish terrorist. The man was too much of an enigma and too dangerous. He was bent on getting independence from Denmark, no matter what he had to sacrifice and how he had to do it. He had even been willing to sacrifice Cagalli for it, despite Cagalli having never done a single wrong against him.

Athrun shook his head. "I'm sorry, Lent. I'm sorry, Sheba."

They mistook his guilt as the old one. They mistook his guilt at letting them down yet again as the mistake he'd made in the past, when he'd insisted that Sanders continue to stay in the Swedish palace as a spy.

At that time, the Numbers had wanted to send in the twins to be kitchen maids and had even trained them for it, but Athrun had refused. He hadn't wanted to let them from his sight, now that they'd become part of the family he had.

Despite knowing that Sanders had been in risk and that other guards were becoming suspicious of him, Athrun had insisted that Sanders continue his job there. While Sanders had actually helped Erik Strumsson out of the attempted assassination, Sanders had roused the suspicion of his employer, and he'd finally paid the price.

A week after Athrun had insisted that his aides would not be used, Sanders had been killed in an explosion that had been written off as the Danish terrorists' work once again. The Eyes knew better. The Swedish Crown Prince had been growing suspicious of his primary bodyguard, who had seemed to know too much.

But Sanders had managed to send his report over to the Numbers eventually.

"I can still recall his last words," Lent murmured. "All official and all brisk sounding. He didn't even sound like he was in pain until the end."

"He was the one who told us that he'd discovered what the Crown Prince was up to." Sheba looked brokenly at them. She remembered listening to the last message that Sanders had left, knowing that he loved her although he hadn't had a single breath left to tell her that. "I didn't even believe it at first. That was only four years ago- that means that Pietre Harraldsson was only eleven! Look at him-,"

"The face of an angel." Lent agreed. "It's hard to believe he has such a deep-seated hatred."

"That's why I have to kill him." Athrun said softly, with such poison that Sheba was shaken. "I'll kill him for killing Sanders."

"When Sanders died, I never blamed you, Rune." Sheba said firmly. "Not in the least. That's why I didn't leave the Isle even when I was in so much pain from his death. I knew that I had to work for what Sanders wanted."

"He wanted peace. That's why he agreed to stay on the Isle and take on double duties as both the protector of the original asylum-seekers and as a spy in the Swedish Palace. He became the person that Erik Strumsson suggested we send in." Lent told them firmly. He looked at Athrun with an expression of regret. "The Eyes have been working to protect the Isle-dwellers for a long time now, but we've also been working to protect the Halfs that came after the original Coordinators."

"I know." Athrun said fitfully. "Sanders always believed that nobody had the right to judge anyone on the mere basis that they were Coordinators or Naturals. That's why I'm sure that he'd agree that the Halfs have done no wrongs too. Why should they be persecuted for being perceived as impure, when all they have against them is their mixed parentage?"

Sheba sat down tiredly, running a hand through her hair as she eased the long, jagged pin from it. "At least, Erik Strumsson believes that too. That's why he begged the Plants to do something about the Halfs when he realized that he could not and that Pietre Harraldsson was bent on wiping them out. Starting with Denmark, then Scandinavia, then Orb and soon, the whole of the Earth Alliance."

Athrun shook his head. "Erik has had to suffer so much for what he believes in."

They could recall how the Crown Princess' husband had spoken out against Coordinators who had attacked Naturals for no reason except for revenge, despite how he was a Coordinator too. Erik Strumsson had also condemned the Naturals who had been antagonistic to Coordinators for no other reason except their heritage.

"He's had to leave his wife behind for a very long time now." Lent said sadly. "And he even had to feign his own death when his own brother-in-law tried to have him assassinated."

"Of course," Athrun muttered, "That was written off as the terrorists' work too. Just like the schoolhouse massacres."

But even when Erik had been targeted next for trying to quell the conflict between Coordinators and Naturals and Plant had given him an asylum, he had chosen to stay.

Erik Strumsson had been the one to beg Plant to give an asylum to those persecuted for their mixed heritage too. Plant had been unwilling to interfere with Scandinavia's internal affairs, but had eventually decided to grant that asylum. As Erik had argued with them, it hadn't seemed right to let the Coordinators and Halfs die.

Now though, Athrun decided, the time was coming. The refugees were safe now and the only person Athrun cared for was not part of his duties or his obligations.

Even if he had to let Lent and Sheba down again, Athrun thought to himself, it was going to be worth it.

The Plants were beautiful places- if not a little too perfect. Each one had a distinctive culture to it, and Aprilius was the capital in many ways. December was something of a rural place with a countryside setting, but Aprilius was very built-up and urban. This plant was the heart of all Plants, and amidst its most expensive core spaces, the Joule Estate had been built there.

Yzak Joule knocked tentatively on the door, wondering as he had always done, what his mother was up to in there. Her room was large and airy, but he had always felt a little cramped in there. Her presence was rather enormous, if he wanted to be absolutely honest with himself.

"Come in." Her voice was always so authoritative that Yzak wondered if a salute was necessary.

As he stepped in, bowing slightly as had always been his habit, his mother raised her eyes to him. She had been reading, sitting as she always had in her favorite armchair, looking slightly bored. Her trusty newspapers were in a neat pile, for Ezalia always kept up with the world around her.

Even while she was trapped in her estate, the world was still pretty much a nice, big succulent oyster that belonged to her. And she certainly exploited it.

"What's your business here today, Yzak?"

"I just came to visit you." He said tensely, taking a seat. He wondered what his mother would say if he had broached the subject immediately.

"Unlikely. Just speak your mind."

She looked at him knowingly, a smile easing itself into her face and making her look less wintry. Her coloring had been passed onto him, but if he had always thought he looked slightly washed-out, Ezalia Joule's silver hair and extremely pale skin made her look very regal.

As a child, Yzak had read about the White Witch in children books. The White Witch was always depicted with long hair, a sparkling mantle and a wand that she wielded to freeze animals into stone. Instead of taking heed of the illustrations provided, the younger Yzak had thought of his mother. He had imagined a bob-haired woman with icy eyes and a voice as commanding and as forceful as a man's.

Come to think of it, Yzak recalled, he had imagined his mother waging a battle against the great Lion, four human children, loads of other creatures, and the Supreme Council that had kicked her off after she'd contributed so much. But she was relentless. House arrest since the end of the First War had not done anything adverse to Ezalia Joule.

In fact, she seemed to have become even more prosperous through her son's efforts and her own ability to attract the right visitors to her house. There was always a stream of important people visiting the Joule Estate, and it seemed that she was even busier these days. Despite her being at home, she was rarely dressed in anything less than her business suit.

As she had remarked to Yzak at one time, "It's nice that Plant's Supreme Council cut my transport costs and travelling."

Yzak shook his head, trying to focus. "I wanted to ask about Patrick Zala."

Her expression turned chilly, and then she sighed, her gaze softening as her eyes passed over her son. "Well, that really means you're asking about his son."

Yzak did not bother to deny anything. He knew that his mother was very aware of what he was here to find out, and interrupting her would be pointless. Ezalia was the sort who hated to be disrupted from completing what she decided to do, and she was the sort who knew exactly what was necessary for telling and what could be saved.

Either way, Yzak only had to wait and listen.

She re-crossed her legs elegantly, her hair still immaculate in that familiar bob, her chin a bit impudent as it had always been, and her lips freshly-coated by her favorite lipstick. While Ezalia was very careful with business risks, she had bought up and restarted the cosmetic company on a whim, simply because it had been going bust and she did not want to have to wear any other brand of lipstick. All while under house arrest, of course. The last Yzak could recall, the cosmetics chain had become quite an establishment.

"Light it for me please, Yzak." She murmured.

He shook his head, not wanting to disobey because that would put her in a snappy mood, but feeling slightly impatient too. He settled for a smarter way of rushing her. "You shouldn't be smoking. The doctor said you're absolutely healthy, except that you have to take more calcium. I'm not sure why you want to go take up some lousy habit when you could continue with that clean bill of-,"

"The doctor can go to hell." Ezalia said calmly, as if she were merely remarking about the weather being a bit colder than usual. She looked insistently at Yzak, who shook his head again.

Smilingly, she took her lighter, and lit her cigarette. While Yzak absolutely loathed the smell of cigarettes and the idea of second-hand smoke, he knew his mother was aware of his dislike and doing it on purpose. And that suggested that she had something she wanted to keep from him.

"You know," He said stubbornly, "I can be quite tolerant at times."

"Oh?" She said slowly, puffing and drawing from the cigarette with a pleasure that was more than physical. "Are you talking about my taking one, tiny little puff? You know I have one foot in the grave anyway."

He glared at her, and she chuckled, leaning forward and patting him on the cheek tenderly. "Fine, I'll put it out. I know you're probably going to sit here and glare your eyes out at me until I talk about it."

She stubbed out her cigarette very elegantly, and the smoky scent eventually cleared. But until it did, Yzak knew she was composing the thoughts in her head. She always did that before she chose to speak. When she did, he knew it would be his loss if he didn't pay full attention. Something in here might be beneficial- it could perhaps be used to convince Athrun Zala that he didn't need to fear his father's shadow and to act in that daredevil-hero-saviour way that he was prone to doing.

"I met Patrick Zala in the university. Brilliant man, of course, and from a very good family background too. He got married quite suddenly when his career was on its early stages of take-off." Ezalia smiled wryly. "Mostly to get the media's attention and to certify that he was the right kind of politician to get into the Supreme Council. After he got married, he seemed less like the elite sort who was too removed from the normal people. After he married some middle-class girl, he became the everyman, although he retained his pedigree. He was seen as less of the political bulldog and more of the political bull." She looked at Yzak with a tiny shrug. "You know what I'm saying?"

"Yes. The heavyweight but a person with enough empathy- he looked like a family man."

"You know how politics is a personality-game these days." Ezalia sighed, massaging her temples. "Thank God that I'm past all that. I remember what the papers used to write about me."

He could remember a headline his bunkmates had been reading about before they'd hastily stuffed it away when they realized he had entered. Something about Patrick Zala's trump card. They'd called her the iron-lady.

Privately, Yzak wondered what her media-personality had been as one of the few female Supreme Council members in the past. The Alsatian? No- that was Eileen Kanaver, who had always been a tough-biter but had a kind of nourishing, motherly nature. The Plants had probably been drawn to that when they'd chosen their latest chairman.

In contrast, Ezalia Joule was about as motherly as Yzak.

The Fox? No- Ezalia Joule could be sly, but she was never quite as underhanded or cunning as others. The Fox was more likely to be Gilbert Dullindal. Ezalia Joule was far too gracious and confident of her skills to require any scheming.

The Swan? No- that was Lacus Clyne with her unruffled ways and her graceful beauty. Ezalia Joule was very attractive, but not in that golden, warm way that Lacus Clyne had perfected. Ezalia Joule was more intimidating than that.

The Dragon. That's what she was, Yzak decided. Even now.

"Anyway," Ezalia was saying , "His wife gave birth within a year. He acted fast because he wanted a child to support his new image." She shrugged. "Of course, he wanted a son and he got a son. That's Patrick Zala for you. He didn't really know what it meant to fail."

"So when he got his child, he was already using his kid in his plans?" Yzak couldn't help butting in. His mind was focused on the letter Athrun had asked him to send, and while Yzak couldn't really decipher what was going on, Yzak smelt a rat. He recalled the conversation he'd last had with Athrun.

"Of course." Ezalia said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She looked skeptically at Yzak. "All parents do that, to a certain extent." She looked meaningfully at him. "Besides, this is Patrick Zala we're talking about- the person who planned since the day he was born. Do you know what I used to give him for every birthday, Christmas gift, Easter- all that?"

"No."

"Diaries! Schedule books! Calendars! Those were the only things he wanted more of!" She threw up her hands.

Yzak stared at his mother. "What a man." He did not mean it in the admiring way, although there were plenty of things to admire about Patrick Zala. Although he was primarily remembered for his foreign policies, he had contributed quite a bit to Plant's economy and society. Both as a philanthropist and as a politician, Patrick Zala had shaped a great deal of the Plants.

"What a man." She echoed after him. Then Ezalia Joule shook her head, her eyes dimming slightly. "And his son got some traits from his father, of course. I never got along very well with Lenore Zala- too gentle, too kind- too saintly."

"You always invited her to our house." Yzak pointed out. "And Athrun too."

Ezalia shrugged. "I liked her, but I always thought that she could never accomplish much because she was too afraid of hurting others. No. I was more interested in building up allies. Frankly, I took an interest in Athrun Zala too."

"I know." Yzak said bitterly. He thought of all the times that Ezalia had admired the boy and the times that Yzak had seethed as a child, wondering if she had been merely being polite or if she was being sincere. "I can remember you heaping praise on him. But you know what? He's an incompetent bugger at times."

"Let's face it," Ezalia said composedly. "That child is not better than my own. But I watched Patrick's child on one of those shows when he was seven."

Yzak scowled. "They really milked him, didn't they?"

Ezalia ignored the sardonic tone in his voice. "I saw that Athrun Zala had a charisma that even I didn't have." She smiled at Yzak quite simply. "But both you and I accepted that a long time ago, didn't we?"

Yzak said nothing. He was thinking of Athrun's betrayal. That Athrun had ignored his advice and had developed a relationship with the captive made Yzak feel more than annoyance- there was a great sense of disappointment in there.

It was more than a matter of professionalism. Yzak was personally disappointed that Athrun had made the same mistake again. While Yzak admired Cagalli Yula Atha, he was pretty sure that she was already married to her country. She was not going to throw everything away to be with Athrun Zala- not when there was Orb to take care of.

At the same time, Yzak was greatly infuriated at what Athrun had done despite his duties having to come first. Athrun Zala had been instructed to ensure that the captive would not leave the Manor, but he'd brought her out of it. Next, he'd probably told her about the identities of the people on the Isle, despite the Number's orders that those things were top-secret.

Also, Athrun Zala had been warned not to get his past feelings involved while acting on the night when he'd been on the SS Rafael. The instructions had been to obtain Cagalli Yula Atha's permission to bring her to a safe place. If she hadn't given it, Athrun Zala could not bring her to the Isle, for the Secret Intelligence Council could not excuse his behavior as part of duty.

Of course, Yzak recognized, they could always excuse his taking her to the Isle as something borne from necessity, given that she'd been bleeding quite badly. But still! Hadn't the Numbers decided that the Fifth Eye was the best person to be sent precisely because she would be least likely to be injured and because she would be most likely to agree to go with him?

Ezalia was watching her son carefully. He looked rather perturbed. "What made you want to know about Patrick Zala and his son?"

"Nothing." Yzak said sourly.

"I saw that her son took on more of her than his father." Ezalia sighed now. "That's why I objected to what Patrick planned. In the event that something went wrong and the Genesis trigger never worked or something to that extent, Athrun Zala was supposed to act as him and help speed up the fight against the Naturals. I just didn't think his son was up to the political game."

She shook her head. "Unlike his father, you or me, he is like his mother. He just doesn't know how to hate with all his soul."

"So you knew Athrun Zala was part of the backup for the Genesis?" Yzak demanded. "You knew about the Genesis in all its details?"

"Of course." Ezalia looked slightly insulted at his question. "I helped Patrick Zala to plan it."

All the followers were gathered here. There was not a single woman or child here- all had been sent to the Plants. The chairs in the room were scarcely enough and a few of them were standing.

Like so many who had questioned Greyfriars' authority, these men would have to be removed. Today, Athrun had been called over to Greyfriars Isle. He wasn't quite so sure why Greyfriars had asked him to come, but Greyfriars apparently had something to announce.

Amongst these men, Athrun knew that a fight was likely to break out now. While they were all seated for a meal that nobody seemed to have much interest in, Athrun knew they were ready to reap what they'd been working for.

Seated next to Greyfriars who was at the head of the table, Athrun looked at their faces. Some men were glaring at their leader, despite most looking reverently at him. Those men had been impatient for a very long time, and they'd insisted tie and again within these six months that the plans be sped up.

Tonight was probably the last time they would make such demands.

Greyfriars had already the given the signal. Even without any planning or any clear instruction that today, those trying to usurp power would need a warning, Athrun knew from the slight nod that Greyfriars was feeling threatened.

He watched amidst the crowd of men. Most of these men had lost their families, and they had been driven by the instinct of wolves to pack together, knowing their survival was higher if they found people like them. Greyfriars had been the leader for a long time- now, others were questioning his leadership.

Athrun had arrived here to Greyfriars' isle, prepared to kill those who objected to whatever Greyfriars was about to say.

At present, one man had gotten up from his seat, arguing with Greyfriars that now was the time to act. It wasn't a matter of Greyfriars not agreeing.

But Greyfriars did not like others telling him what to do. In fact, Greyfriars barely tolerated anyone giving orders that were not from him and orders that were of the exact nature as the sort he'd given.

In the past, the others had seen this strictness as a necessity for their survival. Athrun could understand that some found it oppressive now.

"I don't understand," The man was saying desperately, looking pleadingly at some other comrades for moral support as they nodded in their sections of the circle. "We've strived so hard for so long. We managed to flee from Denmark, didn't we? We did so many things to draw the world's attention to Scandinavia, and we even kidnapped the Orb Princess here for that! Now that Orb wants to enter Scandinavia and is just a few days away from doing that, why do we have to hesitate some more?"

A few men were nodding openly and talking amongst themselves in agreement. The one next to Athrun was nodding. He took note of their faces, even if he did not know some of their names. He would have to be careful of them. They were likely to want to usurp power, and they would surely do that first by removing him, who was the right-hand man of the current leader.

"You know, Greyfriars." Another chimed in, standing up and spreading his arms, "I think you're chickening out. Are you going to let our families' blood be just spilt like that?"

Another stood up tensely too. "I say you're weakening as a leader. We need someone decisive now, not somebody who wants to wait until the last minute to have the Orb Princess sacrificed."

"I understand what you're saying," Greyfriars said amicably- far more amicably than what Athrun would have expected of him at this stage. Perhaps, Greyfriars had been comforting himself with the thought of his right-hand man killing off these people who even dared to stand up like this, Athrun realized.

"I have already said," Greyfriars told them patiently, looking at the men. Together, there were slightly less than fifty of them, but they had a bloodthirstiness that would not be affected by their numbers. "The Orb Princess is a goldmine for us. She has captured the world's attention, as we have planned, and countries outside this region have definitely been featuring our group in the media for a long time. Nobody can ignore our plight anymore."

"But why did we put off killing her?" One man asked boldly. "For so long too, when she probably knows where this place is by now."

"Estragon has assured me that she does not." Greyfriars said firmly. "I trust that she doesn't."

There were murmurs of discontent around. Many did not see why a semi-outsider had become the leader's right-hand man even when he'd killed the previous one over some minor dispute involving some insignificant whore and his pride.

"Besides," Greyfriars said loudly, "As much as the Orb Princess appears useless to our purposes, keeping her alive allows us a trump card over Sweden."

Athrun knew Greyfriars had been convinced by him. He felt relief flood into him.

"Let me clarify this," Another follower who had spoken earlier stood up again, "First you tell us that killing her is the best way to draw attention to Scandinavia. So we sent men to Orb and risked their lives to plant traps. It went on for a few

years, right? You asked for his help too."

The heads turned to look at Athrun. He said nothing, but looked forward steadily.

The man began to pace fitfully. "And as if that wasn't enough trouble, you for her to be kidnapped here, but alive. You even enlisted his help again-," He jabbed a finger accusingly at Athrun. "What made you decide she shouldn't be killed?"

"I've said it before too," Greyfriars repeated, saying what Athrun had convinced him of a long time ago. "If we had killed her in Orb or even on the yacht, anyone could claim they'd done it. Nobody would think we were the primary suspect to the point of being the only suspects. It's easy enough to blame others for attacks and similarly, to claim that one has orchestrated the attack when it was another party doing it. That's why she had to be kept alive."

A few looked at the empty coffin in the corner.

"Agreed," Another man said, "But now, at this point? What other use does she have for us, alive? She's a liability to us- she's already served her purpose. Why keep her alive?"

"Because alive, Orb will definitely storm Scandinavia to retrieve her." Athrun stood up now, very firmly. "Through these months, I have realized that her country makes threats but is afraid to threaten their own economy. War would disrupt so many things for them if they had the conflict just for the sake of revenge."

"I thought her death would ensure that they did storm into Scandinavia?" One man questioned.

Athrun gave him a sardonic smile as he rose to speak. "The unknown status caused Orb to go to the Galactic Courts to ask for permission to enter Scandinavia to look for her. The courts gave Scandinavia six months to produce her and an explanation. Until then, Orb cannot enter. But what if she had died and they had found out? They would definitely want an explanation, but would they have stormed into Scandinavia? No. Why investigate and search for a person who has already died and they know to have died? What would be the point?"

The silence in the room spread slowly.

"Besides that," Athrun said, his gaze and voice steady. "If she is alive, that gives them a reason to enter Scandinavia. If gives Orb a reason to ask, what is going on in that region, that required the Orb Princess to be kidnapped? And that is when you will answer that Denmark needs its independence, and that the Orb Princess had to be brought over for the world's attention to focus on a place that has drowned out your voices for so long."

Most in the room were convinced. Most were nodding. But not a few.

"Really?" One follower said doubtfully. "I don't think it's that ideal. I think it's a matter of you having grown attached to the captive and wanting to keep her alive. Wasn't that why you killed Decant Corriolis when Greyfrairs sent him there to kill her?"

Greyfriars stepped in. "It was my mistake and my hastiness then. Estragon prevented me from making the mistake of killing our trump."

"Is it that simple?" The man pressed again.

"He's in charge of our weapon and chemical productions," Greyfriars said impatiently, as a few others who'd come to support Rune Estragon nodded once more. "Even if he may not share our ideals of independence, he shares the hatred of a common enemy."

Those who had protested now fell silent. Hatred was a miraculous thing, Athrun realized. It was possibly even more unifying than love.

"He's aided so many of our operations until now," Another man spoke up for Athrun. A few nodded in approval and their support. "Surely, he must really want us to succeed, even if he doesn't have the same motivations as us?"

"He has helped us." Greyfriars said loudly. "And that is all that matters."

There were murmurs. Some were not comfortable with bringing in a person they perceived to be a businessman- a mercenary who shared none of their sentiments. Some were fine, and some were more than supportive of what Athrun had done as Rune Estragon for all of them. He'd funded them, he'd helped them acquire weapons and the chemicals they needed, and he'd even brought over the Orb Princess for their cause.

Looking around at everyone, Greyfriars called out, "I have called all of you here to give you good news today! In five days, we will have our independence! I have spoken to the new High King of Scandinavia, and he has promised that to all of us!"

For a moment, nobody at the table said anything. Then everyone was talking suddenly and there was a massive swell of noise. As Greyfriars smiled, Athrun felt a shard of panic pierce at him. He turned to the leader seated at the head of the table.

"How?" Athrun asked in disbelief. Why hadn't Greyfriars asked for his advice first? And how long ago had Greyfriars begun to keep in correspondence with the new High King and when had these plans been made?

"He has agreed to exchange our independence for the Orb Princess and the drug we have developed, with your help." Greyfriars told them all firmly.

"Won't he be able to kill all of us if he has that drug? It is meant to be used as a chemical weapon! He could wipe us all out with that powder." One demanded. "It doesn't make sense to give him all our trumps."

"We won't be giving him the real one, of course." Greyfriars looked quite satisfied with himself. "And he won't know until much later. What is the point of the trump cards if we can't get what we've always been working for?"

There were murmurs of approval everywhere now.

Athrun sat there, praying that someone would raise another point against Greyfriars. But nobody did, and Greyfrairs turned to him. "Estragon, you will be in charge of handing him the chemical weapon and the Orb Princess. At the same time, you will have your chance to have your revenge on him."

"I don't want to talk about that now," Athrun spat. He leapt out of his chair, his fist hard on the table. "This isn't what we agreed on, Greyfriars!"

There was dead silence in the room as all eyes turned to Athrun.

"What's not?" Greyfriars said dangerously.

"You weren't supposed to go and make a separate offer to the High King!" The vehemence in his tone must have been obvious, for the men began to mutter amongst themselves, whispering their private conversations with their neighbours.

"I did, and it works to our advantage." Greyfriars exhaled lowly. "My men are tired of fighting, and we don't want ot give up on our dream either. This is the best way forward for all of us. The Orb Princess was supposed to die anyway- this doesn't change anything. And you will still get your revenge on the High King, so there's no issue here."

Their eyes locked, Athrun knew what Greyfriars was thinking. Greyfriars was thinking that Rune Estragon was probably not going to be reliable as his right-hand man for long. If Greyfriars had called Rune Estragon here to silence those who protested, Greyfriars was probably going to have to silence Rune Estragon too.

Already, some followers were taking advantage of the opportunity.

One man called out, "Hey, aren't you supposed to be on Greyfriars' side?"

"I am." Athrun said with gritted teeth. "It's just that I don't think the High King is to be trusted. What if he kills the captive? What if then he turns around and blames the Orb Princess' death on this group? Orb will want to flush all of you out! He's probably going to kill her, and then he'll blame it on you."

"Why would he?" Another of Greyfriars followers asked in surprise. "I thought that he doesn't want war! He's expressed so, over and over again. If he ever harmed a single hair of the captive's head, Orb would definitely want war with Scandinavia."

The others were murmuring in agreement. Athrun could not tell them how wrong they were.

"Besides," Greyfriars pointed out, "He told me quite strongly that he didn't want Orb troops coming in here in the first place. That's why he wants to make peace quickly by returning her. He also wants the drug because he thinks it will deter Orb from making more problems in the future."

"Stop being naïve," Athrun said firmly. "The drug I've obtained and reproduced for you will be used against you and your followers. He's not trustable."

"No, he's not," Greyfriars agreed. "And that's why we aren't going to give him the real thing."

Athrun knew it was a pointless thing to create a fake drug anyway. The drugs that Alstarice Krieg had reproduced in the factories were useless, and Greyfriars would probably end up making fakes of the fake. He was more worried about the other trump that Greyfriars was planning to trade in for independence.

Greyfriars held a hand out towards Athrun. "It is time to act now. My followers, your families' deaths will not go unavenged! Estragon, bring her and a sample of the drug to me tomorrow."

Athrun felt his blood curdling but he bit back his fear and took Greyfriars' hand.

"This will be a bloodless battle from now on!" Greyfriars pumped his hand into the air. Athrun felt his fist being lifted into the air too, and his eyes narrowed. But he could not refuse here.

The room erupted in cheers, and Athrun knew he had to act there and then.

The scent of the air had the dried smell of tea leaves in it.

As he stepped into their bedroom, he could see that she had not owned the energy to have waited up for him. She had probably done so for the past few nights, and exhaustion must have claimed her this time.

As Epstein had informed him, Cagalli had suddenly taken a little ill, feeling a bit faint even though she'd denied in quite insistently. The maids had given her medication that hadn't seemed to work, for she would simply not sleep even when she closed her eyes and lay in silence for hours. In their desperation and prompted by Cagalli's own, they'd given her a careful dosage of sleeping pills.

Athrun could remember what Laplacia had told him. Apparently, Cagalli had begun working ceaselessly for the past few days, as if to distract herself from something. She'd started with the floors first, scrubbing for hours, and then moving on to the windows. She'd wiped and cleaned and dusted and mopped for hours at and end, and then she'd sparred for the rest of the day, as if the morning's session hadn't been enough.

With some sadness, Athrun knew that he would have very little time left with her now. He had already prepared what he needed, and she would be leaving very soon.

For now though, Athrun moved around slowly, looking at the traces of herself that she'd put into this bedroom. Even if he was condemned to stay here for the rest of his life, he decided, he'd try and remember her for what she'd changed about this place and him.

There was tea in the corner of the small bedside table, and Athrun knew that it was cold by now. She did not seem to have touched much of it.

He cast his eyes to the bed and saw Cagalli's silhouette moving within it.

And yet, she was supposed to be asleep.

Cagalli was tossing and turning a little, and her expression held torment and unease in it. Through the gap of the curtains, and even from her silhouette, Athrun could sense she was not sleeping well.

Wasn't the medicine working? Athrun wondered. He knew that the sleeping pills that Epstein had given her were supposed to let her rest, but those did not seem to be doing anything particularly effective. She seemed to have been induced into a deep sleep, but it was a difficult sleep. Moreover, Cagalli seemed to be plagued by the things that she would have had an escape from if she had been awake.

As Athrun came closer, he knew that she was sleeping while having a dream too. She was mumbling and saying something, and her hands were clenched. He lifted the curtain gently, looking at Cagalli. Her hair was moist with sweat and she looked a bit pale. Her lips though, were pink, and he knew that her habit of biting her lips when she felt awkward or was in distress had carried over even when she was asleep.

He ridded himself of his coat, tossing it on a chair next to the bed. As he kicked off his shoes and socks and slipped next to her, he lowered the curtains again, lying by her, watching her.

There was something fascinating about seeing Cagalli struggle in her sleep. She seemed awake for a second, asleep for the next, and there was a torment in her expression. That made him think of how weak she was but how strong she pretended to be. He wondered if he was dreaming too, and whether the vision before him would suddenly give way to darkness and the ceiling of the four-poster.

Gently, Athrun peeled away the sheets, lifting her slightly in his arms. Her scent was stronger, enclosed by the gossamer-like curtains. There was a fine sheen of sweat on her skin, and she seemed to be glimmering. Her flesh was soft, although skin felt clammy, and Athrun wondered what she was dreaming about. For an entirely unidentified, rather inexplicable reason, he felt himself grow more alert; more tense- more awake with his need.

"Cagalli," Athrun said in a low voice, "Cagalli."

He stared at her, hearing her hiss in broken gasps as she began to stiffen, then relaxed as suddenly. Her nightgown was a little damp, he realized, as he held her in his arms, and he knew she had struggled from something in her sleep.

"No-," She was shaking her head in a strangely violent if somewhat random manner. Her voice was a tiny little scrap of sound, a murmur that might have been drowned by any other sound. But he leaned close to her and he could hear Cagalli. "No- don't-, just hold-," Her voice was a cry now. "Don't go-,"

Athrun wondered if he ought to wake her up. He understood that it would take a great deal of effort to rouse her from her sleep. At the same time, Athrun knew that it would require even more sleeping pills to get her some rest if he disturbed her sleep now. He wondered what to do, for Cagalli seemed to be troubled in both her sleep and without it.

"Ath-," He watched as she called out. And troubled, Athrun placed his hands over hers, wondering why she was calling out to him in her sleep. "Athrun."

Her eyelids trembled once and her eyelashes on her cheek seemed more fine and delicate than what he'd realized they'd been in the past. Athrun stared at her, trying to decipher why she was twitching violently even when he put his arms comfortingly around her. Cagalli had always been roused quite quickly in the past, but now, she seemed to have been such a deep sleep that only she could wake herself.

"Marlin, don't-," She seemed to be sobbing, "-say that-, he's not-, I'm not trying to-to-,"

"Trying to?" He whispered. Athrun tried to shake her, but he found that his hands were weak against her shoulders.

Her eyes were fluttering open but they never really opened. "I'm not trying to run. I'll stay in Orb. Promise."

He reeled back in shock. Had she made some promise to Marlin that he didn't know about?

In her dreamlike state, Cagalli seemed weaker and more pale than ever. She was beautiful to look at still, with her lips pink and her hair tumbling onto her shoulders. Her slight fever had receded, according to what Epstein had told him. Yet, she was still warm to touch, and there was a flush on her cheeks that wasn't entirely normal.

She looked small and broken, and that vulnerability was frightening. He knew it would not do to let her sleep on.

"Cagalli," Athrun said sharply, "Wake up."

She continued to shiver in his arms, and Athrun knew that she was suffering.

He couldn't bear anymore and began to shake violently at her. He shook at her until her eyes flew open and she shuddered, gulping, struggling, then going limp as she lost all her energy.

And Cagalli seemed to awaken, but her eyes looked unfocused as he stared at her, wondering what had gone wrong in her dreams.

"You were having a nightmare." He whispered, and he knew his voice was hoarse. She tried to smile at him but it faltered, and he decided that he'd wait a little more before he did what he'd decided to carry out.

Gazing at Cagalli, Athrun decided he wanted to let her have a meal first. While there was no time to waste, she didn't look like she could withstand a journey out at sea. So he mopped her brow, placed a hesitant kiss on her forehead, and then lifted her out of the bed.

She seemed to shrink away from him, and he felt puzzlement. He had expected her to put her arms around him, but she seemed unwilling to be near him. In fact, Cagalli looked downright unhappy that she'd been woken and that he was near her. She shook away a little, looking at him with something he recognized as mistrust. It was as if he'd come home to her with another person's blood splattered on his face, or that his forehead bore the sign 'murderer'.

But Athrun had cleaned the blood off and he knew he could hide what he'd just completed over at Greyfriar's place. Some of his followers had tried to claim credit and even wanted to wrestle the leadership position away. Athrun had made Greyfriars trust him again by getting rid of those unlucky ones for Greyfriars.

"You're fine now." He told her, feeling a bit insecure himself.

She only looked at him mutely, and he noticed that she seemed to have been frozen.

Nevertheless, Athrun got her to stand. And slowly, she began to put her feet forward, like a child learning to walk for the first time. Athrun would have liked to lift her into his arms and to give her support, but Cagalli seemed fiercely resistant to that.

He fetched his coat from the chair, then flung it around her, trying to warm her up. He was half-hoping that she'd put her arms around him and beg him to stay with her. But she didn't- she began to shuffle forward, and Athrun followed after her.

"Where are you going?"

"I-," Cagalli looked at him wildly. "I need a bath."

He watched as Cagalli tugged herself loose from him and moved to the bathroom. The dogged determination of her steps and the way she seemed to be ill at ease made him sure she was not keen to return for certain reasons.

Athrun did not follow her to the bathroom although he would have liked to. He would have liked to undress her, to kiss her and then hold her. He was aching to have her against him, and he was yearning to feel her respond, but he forced himself to stay away. While he wanted to wash her and to make her feel warm and secure, he could not do that for now.

She seemed to be a caged animal- pensive and rather scared. It was best to let her try to pretend all was normal for now. Besides, it was unlikely that his being with her would solve anything she was going through mentally.

It would take more than that, Athrun decided.

So he waited for the sounds of the water to start, and then waited a little more until she finally emerged. Her hair was damp and Cagalli looked a bit woebegone in a bathrobe that had been meant for him. The sleeves were too long, she was dragging her feet, and she seemed more likely to drown in the robe than be dried by it.

She would need some warm clothing, and he would make sure she was wearing some, but he ignored her lack of proper clothes momentarily. Muttering to himself, he took her to the bed, making her lean towards him as he patted her hair dry. After a minute or two, she moved away, and he stared at her, wondering why she wanted to move off when he hadn't finished.

In the meantime, Cagalli moved to their wardrobe, taking a simple blouse and shorts out. Turning away from him, she slipped those on. The lack of light in her eyes made her expression very dull, and even when he waited for her to finish and pulled her back to him, nothing in her face changed. As he sat her before the vanity, he knew she was fighting with herself.

"Cagalli," He whispered, running a brush through her hair now. "I want you to tell me what's been going on. Why have you been working yourself so hard?"

She looked at him, unable to verbalize all that had plagued her thoughts for these few days. Then Cagalli spoke, and Athrun knew she was still a bit shaken.

"I-," She looked ready to cry. "I want some water."

He looked around, casting his eyes to the corner where the tea usually was. But as he lifted the lid, he saw that the water was cold even if untouched, and he decided not to let her have any of it. He didn't want her falling sick with a cold or anything- she needed to keep herself healthy for what he had planned ahead.

Thus, Athrun had no choice but to let her step out of the room. As she did, he followed.

Through the corridors, past a few familiar rooms, and down into the kitchen, he snuck looks at her. Her face was flushed as if she'd had a fever, and her fingers looked like they had become clamps around the coat that her shoulders bore. She'd assumed a defensive posture, putting her arms around herself, and Athrun knew she was still a bit rattled even after that bath.

And for the first time, Athrun decided to ask. "What did you dream about today?"

Cagalli did not look at him. "I can't remember."

They got into the kitchen, and he pulled a chair for her. There was nobody around, thankfully, and he busied himself getting some water for her. She did not seem to become more normal, but she hunched into the chair, curling herself up with her knees drawn up to her. In that defensive posture, Cagalli seemed to have shrank and become a lost child.

"Here." He said awkwardly, setting it down before her. He did not sit with her but began to rummage around, looking for things to cook. Athrun suddenly wanted to ensure she was fed. He wanted to regain a sense of how things were supposed to be. He took out some pasta, decided it would be a little heavy going on her, and then tossed the ingredients back.

"What would you like?" Athrun asked.

She shook her head. "Anything's fine. I'm not really that hungry."

"You've got to eat something though." He insisted. "Epstein told me your appetite's been poor these few days."

But even as he set up a fire and decided that an omelet would be good, Cagalli appeared to have become even more withdrawn.

She said nothing as he cracked the eggs, only watched dully. Her fingers were pale, clutching and holding the water she had taken only two sips of. As he began to beat the eggs, her eyes traveled to him and she began to speak. When she did however, she could not seem to verbalise her thoughts.

"Sorry." Cagalli said softly.

Not letting his hands stop, Athrun continued at his work. He did turn however, to look at her.

His eyes narrowed at her. "Why are you apologizing? Because you worked yourself to hard? Because there's something you don't want to talk about? Because your nightmares didn't stop? Because they got worse? Because the pills didn't work?"

She had the decency to flush with embarrassment, but he held no joy in seeing her discomfort. She just didn't know how to focus her anger, or where to direct it.

For a long time, Cagalli had tried to hide the emptiness in her. She'd been numbed to so much of the world. But she had lashed out wherever she could, just to remind herself that she was still the same person even when she knew she'd changed. It had seemed to work for her before, and it was all she really knew.

"What else really happened? You were calling out to a few people."

"I don't talk in my sleep," Cagalli bit back, exactly at the same time Athrun spoke.

He had been wondering when she would get to that. "You do. You did today. You did yesterday and on the past few days as well too. Epstein heard. The twins did too. You talked in your sleep. Just like what I saw today."

"Well, I never did before." She said stubbornly. "I don't quite believe you."

Athrun's gaze was firm, and he studied her quietly. "I've never asked you to talk about those things before, but I think it's better if you say what's on your mind."

"There's nothing on my mind." She answered firmly. "Nothing, in particular."

"You lie very well," Athrun said roughly, moving to her. He began taking the pot of tea from the bedside table. He drained the dregs and passed her the cup, which she took a sip off hesitantly, then put away. The way he did things so methodically and the way he seemed to state a fact made her highly unnerved.

"I'm not lying! I don't lie!" Her expression was that of panice and vehemence.

"Of course, you don't," Athrun agreed amiably. The frustration of the past few days was building up in him, but he controlled it as sufficiently as he could. Just because Cagalli was rattled didn't mean that he had the license to react in the same way. He had to calm her down, he decided. He had to make her trust him even more now, and he would have to bid farewell to her.

He took the rest of the water that she didn't seem to want anymore, drank it to clear his throat, and then turned back to her.

"You just keep secrets while avoiding the moments when you're forced to tell truths. Isn't that what it is? You try and hide it all away until you and other people forget- isn't that it?"

Her face was blanched white as she gripped the edge of the table. "You don't really know what that's like, Athrun," she hissed.

"No, I don't, sorry. I've never been put into that same situation you're in. I certainly can't say that I've ever ran from the truth like it was my own nightmare, or that I'd done everything I could and hid away from it," he said sarcastically, setting down the mug.

And Athrun looked directly at her. "I only named myself Rune Estragon and developed a new identity for fun."

She watched him move to the stove and begin to beat the eggs once more. "No! You can't say that- it's not the same thing."

As he distributed the beaten eggs in the pan, Cagalli wiped her angry tears away. Unlike his measured movements, her face held misery laced with barely contained fury.

"It's the same when you try and behave the way that a child would." He faced her calmly, tossing in some bits of tomato and chive now. "It's childish to think that you can keep pushing things away when they haunt you even in your sleep."

Cagalli shook her head as much dignity as she could muster. "I'm not a child."

Her expression was stubborn, even though she still looked miserable, huddled away in a corner like that.

"Might as well be," Athrun muttered under his breath. The omelets were cooking and the sprinklings of mushroom that he'd thrown into it were steaming quite nicely. He nodded to himself in approval, beginning to fry it more.

He got back to her with separate plates and pointed at it. The fragrance snaked into the air, but all it achieved was make her feel slightly hungry, then more dizzy and sick than she'd felt.

"Eat now. Get your strength back." Athrun ordered.

She ate a little, then shook her head wanly when he offered to serve her seconds.

"You won't feel better if you don't try." Athrun told her firmly.

Looking at him and the insistence of his expression, she reluctantly took another bite, and then began to feel herself warm up a little more. There was a kind of comfort in eating while he watched, she realised. For as Cagalli ate, Athrun seemed to be watching over her, and she felt better by the time he poured her more tea. He understood her hesitation. She wasn't comfortable with him now, because she knew that in a few days, she would have to go back without him.

But Athrun knew that she would have no choice. She was going to have to return without him and without preparing herself anyway.

Her silence made the atmosphere tense, and he saw that she was picking at her food. Clearly, her appetite had not really improved. At least though, she would eat a little and keep her energy up. She would need it, Athrun thought to himself.

So they finished in silence.

Eventually, Athrun got up, taking the plates to clear the remnants and beginning to wash. While Cagalli had never abided by waste, she seemed to be struggling to finish, and Athrun knew she was to shaken to eat beyond the purpose of sustenance. While he took out the dish-liquid and a handheld scrubber, Cagalli began to speak.

"Thank you," Cagalli said, almost reluctantly. "I've only had tea and mostly biscuits for these few days. I don't think I've eaten anything substantial much for some time now. I was too nauseous for anything else. I kept having my sleep interrupted."

"Bad memories do that," Athrun said placidly, scrubbing with an ease that covered the tension in his face. "It happens when you don't want to deal with it when you're awake. Especially when those start to hit you with full-force."

Cagalli looked at him sharply. "I didn't say that."

"Then tell me," Athrun replied, washing, then beginning to do drying of the quite dishes leisurely. It was almost as if she wasn't lashing out at him, or that her intentions to keep her dreams to herself were not registering to him.

As Cagalli stared at him, she realized that he wasn't going to give up either.

Athrun's tone was very firm. "Stop saying that it isn't this, or it isn't that. Tell me what it is. I don't know, unless you tell me. What you said yesterday gives me enough to guess, but I don't want to have to guess anymore."

"It wasn't anything." She said numbly.

"Then what were you muttering about to James Marlin?"

Her eyes grew wide and she tried to stand from her chair to take the mugs to him, trying to retain her normality. But she stumbled backward, falling over the chair, one cup smashed against the table as she knocked into its corner.

Athrun rushed to her side, but she only looked at him fearfully, with apologies dying on her lips as her face turned pale.

"No- leave that alone," He told Cagalli, grabbing her away from the broken mugs. "You stay here- don't try and do anything-,"

She took no notice of him even while he pulled her away. Her voice was a stammer. "I'm sorry- I just-,"

Athrun knelt beside her sprawled form, careful to avoid the glass chips. He shook his head and pulled her up to her knees as well, getting her away from the mess she'd created. "I said, leave that alone!"

His raised voice made her look at him finally. Cagalli had been shook by his sudden flare of anger and desperation, and her eyes were wide as she gazed at him. Mutely, he took her hands and put them to his chest.

"Don't hide it from me." He said quietly.

"I can't say." Her voice was shaky. She tried to gather up some pieces but he slapped her hands away, shaking his head and telling her to ignore it. He began to kiss her fingers, kissing them as they trembled and her body seemed to become tinier and more shrunken.

"Don't hide anything from me. Not anymore." Athrun was whispering now, and she shifted against him. Fiercely, he pressed at her back, forcing her to stay close to him.

Heedless of what he was saying, Cagalli looked away, still trying to move apart from him. Her vision was swimming in tears but she held those back fiercely, attempting to smile and tell him that she needed to clear the things. But he grabbed her face in his hands, watching tears roll from her eyes, and swiftly, Athrun wiped those away.

"I was dreaming of Marlin." She told him softly, hesitantly. "He asked me about you in the past. He asked me whether I remembered you."

Athrun did not have to hear her say anymore to know how she'd answered. He pulled her into his arms again. "Doesn't matter anymore."

"I don't want to go back to Orb." Cagalli admitted shakily. "I don't know what more they want of me."

"Kira needs you back there." Athrun told her. "Orb needs you back there. You know what will happen if you don't go back, don't you?"

"But I don't want to care anymore." She sobbed. "I'd rather just go to sleep forever and never wake up- as long as I can stay here in peace."

"You can't." He said mechanically. "You don't belong here."

Cagalli knew that what he was saying was true. But at the same time, she knew that going back to Orb would be difficult for her now. How was she expected to be apart from him, she wondered, when he'd taught her to open herself and to be honest with him? How would she live without that expectation he'd taught her to have, and how would she live with that hope that she wanted so much more of now?

She turned on him with anger suddenly. "It's your fault isn't it? You should have let me go back- you shouldn't have told me all you'd done for me-,"

He stared at her helplessly, knowing where her outburst was stemming from. Suddenly, all that Yzak had predicted was coming true. Her presence here had not been authorized when he'd taken her here without her permission. But that wasn't even the most problematic issue. It was the fact that he'd done so many things he wasn't supposed to do- tell her of what was happening outside, tell her of what Plant's intelligencers did here on the Isle and the nature of the people who'd been brought here.

He had tried to think of her as Cagalli for some time. But now, he knew that she would always be the Orb Princess and that as the Orb Head, the information he'd given her, along with what he'd encouraged them both to lose themselves in, would ruin them both. Cagalli would never be able to return to Orb and be the same now.

She would not belong to him once she went back to Orb. There was still someone else waiting for her back there, and she would be in a marriage that Orb had much to gain from. Marlin would never know that he, Athrun Zala, existed and not just as a fugitive. But Marlin would still have Cagalli.

And yet, there was no regret in his thoughts.

"It's my fault." Athrun admitted. "But I'm still glad I did what I did."

Her face crumbled as he stroked the tears away.

"I want to kiss you right now," Athrun whispered. "Is that horrid of me?"

Cagalli gulped visibly, although she tried to smile quite valiantly. "Is it horrid that I'd like you to?"

He pulled her into a kiss, pressing her to him, suddenly inattentive of the glass and the way she had been pulled to him, her palms on the floor, her body on its fours. It didn't matter that her face was moist from tears and that she suddenly became resistant and tried to fight him. He touched his tongue to hers, sliding over it, easing his lips onto hers and Athrun felt Cagalli tilt her head unconsciously when she tried to move away.

Her hands wound their way through his hair, trying to pull his lips away. In retaliation, one of his hands settled comfortably and even lazily on her, as if he knew he didn't need to demand or to establish ownership. As he fondled one lush breast, his other hand began cradling the back of her head gently, giving her the balance they required as he did all but devour.

Her cries of protest as she tried to control him were numbed by her own decision, and Athrun felt himself tremble with the agony he had to hide from her. His thumb located her sensitive point and brushed across her in the careless circles of a tender touch, making her gasp beneath his mouth and arch herself.

"Don't fight me, Cagalli." He told her between breaths. "Don't. You gave yourself to me, remember? You told me that you belonged to me. Say it again. Tell me."

She pulled herself away abruptly, face white but her lips pink and swollen. "Oh, Haumea. I can't. I can't do this and hope to leave you- why didn't I think of it then? Why didn't I realize how painful it would be to be near you and then have to leave? I shouldn't have let this happen."

"No," Athrun said, shaking his head. "That's not true."

"I felt that I didn't even know you at times," Cagalli admitted, "And even then, I wanted to have you. Was that wrong? I mean, I actually wondered what it would be like to be with you, even if it was only physically and for a few hours-" Cagalli's eyes were unable to meet his and she colored, looking down.

He grinned, his smile spreading slowly- genuine and candid. It arched into a smirk and she shivered, finding herself still affected by him. "Lovely. Because I want you in my bed right now. All the way through sunset and right up until sunrise, preferably."

She stared at him, mouth falling open and her expression stunned. "It's in the middle of the afternoon, Athrun."

"I wasn't joking," Athrun replied, kneeling at her side. He bent down slightly, if only to ensure that his arms were around and framing her securely. He wound a hand in her hair, tugging a little at the fistful of gold he'd captured. "I want you now." He leaned further down as he spoke, and she shivered. "I need you with me, right now. I want you calling my name. Either one, I don't care which it is anymore. I don't care if you think of me as any person or if I am another person as long as you want me." He kissed her cheek. "Is it so impossible today?"

"Yes," she whispered, frightened by the intensity in his gaze. She tried to pull herself away, except that she was powerless against him.

He took her earlobe between his teeth and tugged gently. "Here or on my bed, Your Grace?" he asked teasingly. He licked the delicate whorl of her ear's outer shell, and she shivered. "Do they call you that? Or Princess? Or-,"

"Cagalli," she whispered desperately, interrupting him by grabbing his collar. "Don't you dare call me anything except that."

"Promise," Athrun told her in return. He pulled back and promptly rose to his feet. For a second, they did not speak, but she swallowed, looking away because she could not hold his gaze, and it was enough for Athrun to find conviction in what he wanted. "Come with me."

She looked terrified, as terrified as he had seen her when he'd caught her in his study. "What?"

"We're going back to our room."

"Hey- wait, I-," Cagalli was spluttering, and he was amused by her sudden awkwardness. "I didn't say I agreed to this-,"

As they entered the bedroom with him hauling her in, she held up her hands helplessly.

"You're kidding! I can't! I won't!"

He only locked the door. Then Athrun grasped her face in his hands and kissed her breathless to quell her protests again. If he had hoped she would plunge into this dare as she always had for others in the past to regain her confidence, then he realized that he would have to coax her into it now. Athrun worked her blouse loose, his fingers finding bare skin. He touched her gently, reverently, tracing queerly irregular, odd geometric patters. She shuddered, and yet she shook her head.

Then Athrun pushed the blouse off her shoulders and moved to kiss her jaw, neck and then her breasts. He wanted her undressed for now- he wanted to change her into something more suitable for a long journey.

"Don't. I can't," Cagalli whispered. His cheek was soft against her, and his hands found her now, pressing and stroking. As she tumbled to the ground with him, he rolled her above him, putting her in the dominant position.

"Yes, you can," he murmured against her skin as he moved to her other breast. He drew her in strongly, roughly now, and she squirmed in equal parts of pleasure and discomfort. "You're going to. Even if you think you need to spend time getting used to being away from me, I'm going to show you that there's better things to do with your time."

"Stop," she gasped, grasping his shoulders and trying to move away but being unable to. "Don't."

He moved his hands back up to her sides, daring her to protest. Wildcat that she was, she actually dared to.

"You've got to stop," Cagalli whispered desperately, trying to push herself off him but failing each time. "We can't do this anymore- I have to learn how to be apart from you- I'm not-,"

He liked that her thoughts had become fractured, for it would be far easier for her to forget her fears and only act now. He liked that she was half-afraid and half-resistant but her body was reacting very nicely to his. Moreover, her breath was coming in shallow, almost negligible gasps and Athrun enjoyed it.

He realized that he liked the way her hands beat helplessly and fluttered nervously at his shoulders, unsure of what to do even as he increased the insistence of his ministrations. He found that he liked unsettling her as much as he liked letting her fall asleep comfortably in his arms; unsettling her in the way he was being rough, the way her mouth parted in pleasure and a faint rise of a blush began in her cheeks, the color spreading and blossoming under her skin.

He moved to her waist again, and pulled her shorts down promptly. The shorts would never help her last in cold weather. Athrun caught her mouth with his again, feeling her bite him and try to draw away, except that he accepted the slight bud of pain with satisfaction. Then he slipped his hand between her folds, daring her to respond by nipping into her neck.

"You can't," she whispered, horrified.

He left her breasts and kissed his way down, pulling her around him as he settled into her mandatory embrace. Almost merrily, he threw the crumpled pieces of clothes to the floor, smiling amusedly at her."Look, you have two choices. Let me do this or let you be in charge."

Her eyes widened and she looked rather jumpy.

"Come to think of it," Athrun mused, "I think you better be in charge. Go on. It'll help you feel more in control."

Not knowing how to refuse and not knowing what else she could do in this situation, Cagalli obeyed the command, looking very lost and unsure of herself. She began to lift his shirt off him, and he allowed her too. Then she bent a little while they sat on his bed, undoing his belt. Feeling a little sorry for her, Athrun pressed his lips to her forehead, then knelt assuredly in front of her. "It's going to be all right, Cagalli. You have to believe me."

"No, it won't be," she whispered in return. "I can't do this anymore, Athrun."

He kicked off the last of his clothes in a manner that suggested growing impatience, and then he brought both of them off the bed.

He led her to the mirror and turned her to face it. It was the same one that he'd made her stand before all that time ago. Then he stood behind her, hands on her shoulders, then sliding to her arms, lifting those around his neck and head as he transferred his hands back to her chest.

Cagalli was ghostly pale and trembling as she took in her reflection. "I can't do this," she whispered, eyes watering. "I can't hold you, because I have to think of a way to get you back to Orb. I can't waste my time enjoying myself here when I need to be doing other things."

"Yes, you can." He told her firmly. "You've let me do this before- I don't want you to forget anything. If you leave alone, Cagalli, then at least you'll remember what we last did before you left."

He began to stroke her, and she bit back her little moans of pleasure, trying to move away still. "I want to watch you, Cagalli."

"Don't do this. This is cruel," she begged. "How could you say that? How can you want to watch me beg for you when you know that I will never be able to regain you once I go back?"

Athrun slid his other hand between her thighs, fingertips brushing over her. "How? Because I'm selfish, and I have the right to be. Are you saying it's cruel that I make you love me even if I can't go back there? Because I want you to see yourself with me before you leave for Orb? Because I want you to see what you look like when you come so that you'll think of me every night?" He nipped her ear gently, playfully, and met her eyes in to the mirror as his fingers found her wet slit. "It's not cruel. It's what we both want."

Cagalli felt his hands searing into her flesh and she made a series of tiny cries, muted by his kisses as his mouth captured hers, her breasts soft in his roughly-seeking hands. He seemed to be consumed by a frustration that she recognized vaguely, and he hugged her with an angry desperation that he was barely concealing.

"What is it?" She panted, feeling him lower her on the ground even while she tried to sit up. He stared at her, his eyes stormy and his mouth parted slightly in his breathlessness too. "What do you want of me now?"

He responded by burying his face in her chest, pushing her to lie down as he hugged her, not caring about her quavering pleads or her little gasps and her questions of why he'd been wounded. Her eyes were half-lidded as he kissed her, and her fingers found his cheeks as she stroked his face.

"No-," Cagalli pleaded now. "Don't let me go back alone."

Cagalli had never looked more heart-wrenchingly lovely, Athrun realized, with her eyes wide and her expression a little bewildered in its innocence. He couldn't bear to see her look like that at him, but he knew there was only one way now.

He kissed her gently. He thought of the clothes he'd prepared while she'd taken her bath. Those ought to be warm enough, Athrun decided. There was the food and things she'd need, all in a suitcase that had been loaded into the yacht already. She would have no time to say goodbye, but then, those things mattered little now when her life was in danger.

"Close your eyes. Trust me." His voice was gentle and very persuasive.

She did as he asked, too tired to think, too weary to protest and too worn down to try to fight anymore. As Athrun held her in his arms, he dug into his pocket, taking a syringe. Without a single pause or moment of hesitation, he injected the tranquiliser into her, watching Cagalli's eyes snap open in shock, fear and realization.

But then she fell limp in his arms and the deed was complete.

5 days.