Heavy Lies The Crown: Chapter Two

by Starrify

It started quite young; I learned how to stay quiet.
Just stay quiet, always stay.
Don't you ever get lonely?

Five Years Later

He's been staring out the window for the past ten minutes, she noted. Lacus gave a rather loud, exasperated sigh at her friend's habit. At least this means he hasn't changed, she thought as she smiled at the blue-haired prince seated on the opposite side of the carriage. In her hands was a small pink stuffed toy he had given her on her birthday a few years back; she patted it as if it were a real animal.

"Athrun?" she tried once more to get his attention, but he was still looking out of his window, as if there was something interesting to be seen in the banal pattern of rocks and moss found at the bottom of the mountains. She tried to look out of her own window, too, but really, there was nothing worth noting in the road they were currently on.

She took her toy, properly christened Sir Pink, and aimed it at Athrun's face. When it hit his cheek and landed softly on his lap, he looked at Lacus with widened green eyes, obviously shocked at her small tantrum. "What did I do?"

"You were staring out again," Lacus merely laughed it off, her hands still on her lap. "Really, Athrun, Kira said it's gotten better, but I don't think I believe that now." And she let another round of giggles pass through her soft lips.

Athrun, only slightly offended, ran a gloved hand through his hair and tugged at the roots. "I can't blame it if I'm—"

"Interested in everything?" Lacus offered, still smirking. "It's alright. It's perfectly understandable given that you love the whole world."

"Haha, you are so funny, Lacus," he remarked, biting back the sarcasm as he usually did. "Anyways, what exactly did I miss?"

"Before you went up to space, I was talking about how you should have your hair cut, Athrun," she pointed out, looking at the strands of midnight blue hair falling over Athrun's eyes. "It's getting long—really, I could mistake you for a lady if it wasn't for your uniform."

"When did you grow up, Lacus?" he asked, trying to digress. "Your hair was so short five years ago—what made you decide to grow it out?"

"It was Father who wanted me to have long hair. He said it was befitting, and I agree with him," she kindly responded, taking back Sir Pink from Athrun's lap to her hands. "But you are avoiding the topic, Sir Zala. I will not have it."

"Then I will have my hair cut once we get back to Aprilius," he told her deftly in such a chivalrous manner any other girl would have easily swooned over—except, perhaps, this pink-haired noble who, he knew, had her eyes set on someone else. "So let me get back to the topic we had before…I went up to space, as you phrased it. Why are you the one going to Copernicus? Shouldn't they be sending an older, more experienced delegate to represent Plant?"

Lacus pursed her lips before replying, "Father was the one assigned to meet with King George Allster, however, I took the opportunity to expose myself to these things—if I want to be a member of the council one day, I should be aware of what I am dealing with, is that not right?"

"It is," Athrun answered in a thoughtful voice. "However, it's rather dangerous, don't you agree? We could've been set up or something; it's the The Alliance we're dealing with, after all—"

"Always worried over me, you and Kira are," she cut him off. "And Athrun, you should be more careful with the things you say. Whatever issues we may have had with the The Alliance back then—we're past that, Athrun. It's been seven years since that war has ended." She stopped when she saw that he was clenching his fists on his lap, so she took his hands in hers and held it up for him to see his own anger. "We are friends now, so we have to aid them in any way possible as they would do the same for us if we were in their position."

"It's only because Orb isn't complying with the demands of the Alliance," Athrun reasoned. "So if they just reach some sort of middle ground and work from there—"

"You do not understand the state of Orb, do you, Athrun?" Lacus asked calmly, her light blue eyes twinkling. She dropped his hands and put her own back onto her lap. "Honestly, neither do I, but that is only because Orb has closed herself off from Plant and her government is being strict with the people going in and out of Orb. It's been five years, hasn't it? What do you think the condition of the people there are? Do you think they are well?"

Athrun sighed for the nth time in their trip back to Plant. Leave it to Lacus to ask such questions, he thought. She wasn't titled the Princess of Peace for nothing, he knew, but sometimes he wished he could feel more—that he could be more empathetic like her to think of such notions, but it was hard to when he had his own country to worry about.

"Yes," he answered, though not quite sure himself if that was the right one. "They must be—if not, then they wouldn't have stood for it. Five years, you say? And not one leak of an uprising of any sort? It must mean that the people are somehow content."

"But that is not what King George Allster said. He said that Lord Djibiril, one of his former subjects, has control over Orb through one noble family of Orb—the Seirans, was it? And because they have not communicated with the Alliance five years since the takeover, the King is assuming that—"

"But the earlier reports that came in from refugees say that it was because of a coup d'etat—which led to their current state of a civil war. A government overthrown in a day. Nothing is right in politics," Athrun stated, staring intently at Lacus's eyes. "Can we discontinue this discussion or shall you persist that I talk of things I don't genuinely wish to concern myself with?"

Lacus smiled. "You were the one who brought it up again, Athrun—no, don't deny it. But, really, Athrun, you should at least try. You are the crown prince of Plant, the only heir to the throne. Your father would be more than devastated once he hears that his son doesn't like the life planned out for him."

"No, Lacus, you misunderstand." He sighed again, wishing he did not have to explain himself at all. "It's not that I don't like it—I do enjoy the royalties entailed, however, I don't believe that I'm in the best position to take over his seat, that I'm capable of steering a whole country in a certain direction."

"Have more faith in yourself, Athrun," she whispered in a soft yet firm tone. "You are right—you will not accomplish much if you yourself do not believe that you are capable of doing much. So believe in yourself, Athrun, for the sake of your family—for your country."

Athrun opened his mouth to say something, anything to counter what Lacus had just told him, but no words could reach his lips. She was right after all—she was very much infallible when it came to her judgment of character, and knowing that she has known him since they were young, he did not doubt anything she said about him.

And instead, he gave her a small lopsided grin. "You're right, Lacus," he admitted, pocketing his hands. In one was a pouch which contained the ring his father had ordered him to give her as a proper engagement gift. He looked at his pink-haired friend and gripped the pouch tightly. He would be taking her chance of happiness with his best friend if he gave it to her, he realized. And he was not too selfish as to do that to the two people he held most dear. "You're absolutely right."

And again, she beamed at him. "How I only wish—" she started, but was cut off when the carriage came to an abrupt stop. Athrun immediately took his hands out of his pockets and put them onto the hilt of his sword. "What was that?" Lacus asked, her worry reflecting in her eyes.

He shook his head and opened the door of the carriage. He stepped out onto the earth he was staring at just a few minutes ago, now watching around for any sign of danger. He jumped a bit to get used to the feel of the somewhat wet ground against his shoes and sprinted to where their escorts were gathered. "What's the problem here?" he asked.

"We've just reached this siege. Nothing to worry about," reassured Martin DaCosta, the driver of their carriage. All of the men were off of their horses, trying to roll the large trunk to the side. "It's really big, though. If it's not too much to ask, Prince Athrun, we'd like to ask for your assistance here as well."

"It is not," he replied smoothly. Athrun took off his gloves and pocketed them before going to the other end of the tree where it was supposedly uprooted. He bent down on a knee to support that side. He was holding it when he realized that it felt too smooth under his palms, and his eyes widened.

"Drop it at once!" he barked, pulling away from the trunk. His men, though confused, followed his orders. They looked at him with a stumped expression. Why did he make such an order?

Athrun came back to a kneeling position and started inspecting the end of the tree. If it had been uprooted by its own weight, it should have inconsistencies on the surface, not cleanly cut. "It's too even…it's been cut down…on purpose...It's…" he was muttering, and the sounds of a horse stomping from a distance made him immediately stand from his previous stance. "—an ambush!"

He whirled around, his riding cloak following through, and ordered to his men: "Watch out for anyone! If this is by the The Alliance, I swear, there will be hell to pay!"

Meanwhile, in the carriage, Lacus was still on her cushioned seat. Perhaps this it, she thought, perhaps it was their end. She had promised to come back safely to Kira, but—no, she had no doubt that Athrun would protect her not just for his and Kira's sake, but also for the rest of Plants. Her eyes looked down at the empty seat opposite her—though, it was not quite empty. A small pouch lay in front of her and she was not too dense as to not know what it contained.

Despite her current predicament, she sighed. Athrun was helpless, but then again, so was she and Kira. They were all not too different from one another and it was only made worse by the fact of their rankings and obligations to their country.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a cloaked figure opened the door of the carriage. It was not one of their escorts—she could easily tell as the figure was wearing different clothes. They were a bit tattered and maybe showed how meager the person's life was. A plain brown tunic that was loose yet somehow tight enough to show the small curve of the person's chest. A girl, she realized.

"Hello," Lacus calmly greeted. Inside, she was afraid for herself, but her education caused her to be poised albeit the threat. The person was holding a small blade pointed at Lacus, telling her: don't move or else I'll throw this right at your heart. "May I help you?"

She gave a taut smile at the person and stared at the blade. It was a sharp silver, and reflected the rays of sun which hit it. It was clean, Lacus noted, too clean to have been stained by blood before. It meant a lot, meant that the person in front of her didn't intend to kill her. The person did not give a reply, and instead scanned the carriage for something—whether it was provisions or a valuable, Lacus could not tell.

The person, once their eyes landed on the small pouch Athrun left, snatched it and jumped off the step-board. Lacus breathed out a sigh of relief. Through her quarter light, she saw the person effortlessly mount on a horse easily twice the size as that person—lady, Lacus reminded herself. That person was a lady, and she was out here in the middle of a rugged terrain.

"Lacus!"A loud voice brought her out of her thoughts again. A second after, Athrun appeared at the same spot the lady was at. "Lacus? Lacus, are you okay? Did that bandit hurt you? Are you—"

Lacus firmly shook her head and cut him off, "No, Athrun; I'm fine. It's just—"

"—just what?" he asked, his eyes widened and his words separated by his panting. He inspected her from head to toe and found no traces of blood, so his eyes wandered around the carriage. "Lacus, what—"

"You left your pouch and sh—that person took it."

Just a moment ago, Athrun's face had been red from the short burst of speed he displayed to get to her. Now, it was devoid of all color. He felt for his pockets and when he found nothing, he started cursing, "No. No, Father will kill me—" And he looked at Lacus, her expression still very much composed. "I need to run after that damn brigandine. I will—Lacus, you go ahead back to Plant. I will follow suit. If I am not back in three days, send for Yzak and the others to find me."

He jumped on one of the horses of the escorts and looked back at her. By then, Lacus was standing outside of the carriage as well. "Be safe," she wished him. "Come back—to me and Kira."

He curtly nodded, put on his gloves, and ran after the lady. And Lacus could only look after him in melancholy. She hoped that the lady would also be safe from Athrun's temper. There was much sadness to be found in a person like her, from someone living in the forest like that lady was.

Martin DaCosta sprinted to the carriage and stopped right before Lacus, bowing respectfully before continuing, "Lady Clyne, are you alright?"

"Yes, Martin," she answered, looking at the tanned driver. "I am."

"Are there any orders from the prince? Shall I send for the escorts to follow him or shall we be moving on to Plant?" he inquired, looking at the trail of dust Athrun had left. " It's still about a day ride back, but given what's just occurred, it's best that we speed up if we want to get you to safety as soon as possible."

"That won't be necessary—I don't believe this route to be haunted by ghosts or threatened by bandits. Civilians pass from The Alliance to Plant here all the time," she pointed out, smiling softly.

"But, that man a while ago; he—"

"She," Lacus corrected him with her eminent smile. "She's a lady."

Athrun pulled at the reins and leaned further into the neck of the horse. Why don't you go faster, damn it, he cursed at the animal carrying him. The bandit he was chasing after was only a few meters ahead of him, but he couldn't seem to get his own stallion to catch up.

The bandit knew the forest very well, Athrun concluded, as he avoided all the branches and jumped when there were large roots sprawled on the ground. The chase went on for a good ten minutes—and Athrun knew that they were somewhere deep into the forest as the mountainous background was no longer seen. It was all a blur of green and brown and he was starting to hear the loud din of a rushing body of water; a river somewhere nearby. Athrun did not want to admit it, but he was starting to doubt if obtaining the ring was worth getting lost in unknown territory.

Go faster, damn it, he wanted to shout at the horse.

When his horse seemed to read his thoughts, it pushed deeper into the ground, giving it a higher leap. Athrun felt that he was finally closing in and stood on the side of the saddle, prepared to leap at any time to catch the thief. "Come here, you coward!" he challenged, stretching his arms out to reach for the cloak of the person. Just a little more—

But his own horse suddenly tripped on a root, and Athrun, with a curse resounding in his mind, kicked the horse back to propel him to the other person. He caught onto the waist of that other person and pushed him off of his horse. They fell on the ground with a grunt coming out of both of their lips. The other person tried to recover and stumbled in an attempt to stand, but Athrun tackled him down once again, the person's back facing Athrun and their figure obviously trying to wriggle out of his tight hold.

"You coward," Athrun acknowledged again, trying to turn the person to face him. "Show yourself—"

The hood of the cloak of the thief fell on the ground, exposing their face. Athrun paused to look at him—he wasn't as ordinary as Athrun expected him to be. He had blonde hair which reached just past his shoulders—a bit too long for a guy, Athrun would have dryly commented if he wasn't preoccupied trying to keep the person still. He also had soft amber eyes that didn't look like that of a bandit or any kind of criminal. In fact, they seemed to be more honest than anything.

Athrun was trying to figure out what could possibly be wrong with the person under him when he he felt it. His grip on the fabric over the person's chest loosened as it dawned to him who—no, what this person was. What the hell, he thought. He felt his angry expression contort to one of shock. He…she's a—

"Girl," he mumbled, still looking dazed into the person's eyes. "You're a girl."

Cagalli felt her insides boil—what the hell is that supposed to mean? She swore, she didn't care if the guy restraining her had a pretty face—she was going to tear it apart at his blatant disregard of her gender. She defiantly looked back up at him, gritting her teeth as she said, "That's right, I'm a girl! What is it with you men?"

Athrun was even more astounded at hearing her voice. The girl's contralto pitch was gruff yet was still laced with this unfathomable innocence sprouting from who knows where, Athrun couldn't tell, but he knew there was something veryoff about her. It was perhaps his earlier prejudice as he saw her as this thief, but who knows what his own mind could conjure when it comes to his judgment of people and his way of justifying it.

"Hey, you, pretty boy. Yes, you," she addressed him, looking irate. "Are you going to keep staring at me like I'm from space or are you going to let me go? What? Let me go, you bastard!"

Remembering their circumstance, Athrun snapped out of his musings about her and pinned her down onto the ground roughly yet again. Despite himself, he was grinning. With his eyebrows raised, he said with a certain interest, "I don't think you're in any position to tell me what to do. For all I know, if I get off of you, you'll get up and kill me—"

Cagalli put on a smile of sorts—that was, if you considered exposing her gnashed teeth a smile. Her eyebrows were furrowed and she was glaring at the guy who had the nerve to act so egotistical to her. "It isn't war; I can be quite civil—"

"And," he stressed, glaring back at her, but somehow still with his small grin. "For all I know, you can be from the The Alliance, but you don't look like someone the Omni forces would hire for an ambush. For a soldier, you did a disappointing job—"

"I am not part of the Alliance, damn it!" she argued, trying to claw at him, but Athrun's hands were holding her arms down, too, so all her efforts were generally futile. "And I am not a soldier either, so let me go!"

"I don't think a person from Plants would ambush a carriage carrying two nobles, so are you from Orb?" Cagalli's eyes widened. A Plant noble? she wondered, trying to look for a sign that he was telling the truth—and she did, somewhere on his garment was a heraldic design of who knows what family's coat of arms. Cagalli started to internally panic. If he's a noble, of course someone will go after him—and when someone does, they might find me, too, and just, shit. This means—

"And I thought I had a bad habit of spacing out. You're just as bad as me," he complained, getting off of her. Cagalli, though, did not make any attempt to move. Athrun looked down at her amusingly. "You're not getting up?"

"I don't want to be tackled down again by you," she answered, rolling around as to not have the small rocks pierce her skin. "The first time hurt a bit, you know?"

"I'd expect you to know," he said smoothly, brushing off the dirt on his clothes.

When she did not react and instead looked confusedly at his retort, his mind went into disbelief. How aloof was this girl?

Athrun chortled, his deep voice reverberating around the two. He leaned into a nearby tree and looked at the girl lying down in front of him. She was so unconventional, and too much of a mystery for him to form a proper opinion of. He didn't know what to make of her, this blonde. "You didn't answer my first question, though. Tell me, soldier, where are you from?"

"I told you, I am not a soldier!" Cagalli wailed again, her voice somewhat unsteady from the years of disuse. Athrun had noticed the waver in her pitch, but merely regarded it as an effect of her uneasiness around him. "And to answer your question: no, I am not from Orb."

"Then where are you from?"

She gave no answer.

"Are you a pariah?"

"I'd expect you to think so lowly of me."

"You're not giving me much to work with, really," he stated, stood, and started walking towards her. He knelt beside her and she looked up at him with a scowl. "Where did your horse go?"

"I told him to go home," she answered in a low voice, trying to intimidate him.

"Home? That horse is smart enough to direct itself?" he asked, amazed at the animal she could've possibly trained. But he masked his interest and said it more in a nonchalant tone. "Quite remarkable for a person like you."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she demanded, sitting up and stretching her arms to strangle him. He easily evaded her arms by swinging to the side, and she fell face flat on the ground. Her torso twisted to face him and her hands had pebbles in them—all of which, she threw at him. "You bastard, I will hit you!"

"You're only proving my point. You don't say your tactics to the enemy right before you're going to pull them off," he said, entertained by the blonde. "Or after, because I'm sure the enemy would know what you did to him, right?"

"Shut up!" Cagalli barked, finally standing up. Athrun backed away, anticipating her next move. She couldn't run away because he was sure she knew that she couldn't outrun him. They were standing a short distance away from each other; both careful of their movements—any suspicion could lead to the other doing something more brash.

Cagalli turned and started to walk; Athrun took a step forward and called for her, "Hey! Where do you think you're going? We—"

"Relax," she told him, leaning onto a tree with a slightly condescending smile. Her eyebrows were now up in amusement and her eyes reflected a little mirth at his anxiety. For that, Athrun's cheeks were tainted a light red, and so she was more amused. "So, what do we do? Or more accurately, what do you want to happen? Because if you want me to be honest, I just want to go on my own merry way and forget about you—and you'll forget about me. You go back to your kingdom while I keep living my life somewhere else far away from you."

"I won't. Not until you give me back the contents of the pouch," he said, crossing his arms.

"Well, how about I don't?" she provoked.

Cagalli noticed the change in the look in the guy's green eyes. He was really pretty for a guy, she realized, but wasn't surprised as he was of royal blood. He had midnight blue hair that framed his face in a flattering way—it was, however, covering his ears, so maybe he should have it cut. Aside from his obviously strong build, he was also quite tall, giving him a great advantage against her. Damn, she cursed, how am I supposed to get out of this one?

Usually, the people she stole from wouldn't even realize that she took from them. She usually came out at night, when the carriages of travelers and merchants were stationary as to let the horses rest, and took provisions, things she would need—but this time she made a mistake of being early; being caught, and she could only curse herself for her stupidity and carelessness.

She bit her lip and looked at him. "I don't have it," she said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Liar," he spat, his once playful tone turning dangerous. Cagalli didn't want to admit to being scared, but she was. And she could feel the fine hairs at the back of her neck stand when he continued, "You are a liar."

"So you can tell," she commented almost sardonically. She pulled the pouch out of one of her pockets and when she did, he took another step forward, his arm halfway up to get it from her, but she took the blade she held earlier out of another pocket and pointed it at him. Her lips formed a thin line as she said, "Take a step closer and I promise I won't miss. I told you I can be quite civil, but you'll be pushing it if you make demands from me, pretty boy."

Athrun raised both of his hands in faux surrender, taking a few backing steps for good measure. He could feel her eyes following him as he did so, and he tried to match the zeal hers showed. "Is there a need for such violence, soldier?" he asked, trying to rile her up.

And Cagalli fell for it anyway. "Stop calling me a soldier, damn it!"

"Well, you stop calling me a pretty boy, and maybe we'll talk. I'd prefer that you call me by my name so that we can be civil."

"No," she cut him with a glare. "Don't tell me what your name is."

"And why not?" he asked, trying to defy her. She really did not make any sense, Athrun thought as he put his arms back down to his side. "You don't even know my name yet, how could you hate it already—"

"Because you'll matter," she stated, looking down at the ground for a second before looking back up at him. "I don't want you to."

That remark had caught Athrun off guard and he found himself openly gaping in disbelief at the blonde standing opposite him. "I—" he started, looking for something to say, but he found none and was instead stuck with monosyllabic ramblings. Great going, Athrun, he scolded himself, you're probably scaring her away—which, you know, you don't want because you…have to get the ring. Right.

After a moment, they both heard a horse whinnying somewhere near them. Athrun turned around and saw that standing meters behind him was the horse he borrowed from one of his escorts. So you're not that stupid after all—

And he snapped his head back to the direction of the girl when he heard the sound of leaves crunching under the feet of someone running—she was running away from him. "Hey!" he screamed while following her, trying to catch up. "Come back here, you!"

Cagalli looked behind her and let out a loud, obnoxious laugh. She expertly dodged branches and roots on her way to escape. The guy was surely held back by these because he didn't know the forest like she did, she knew, and though he was faster than she was, the knowledge she had was an even greater advantage. "Pretty boy!" she called out, panting a little. "You're really right, you know? I lied!"

Athrun, still trying to get past the maze made of wood, could only vaguely hear what she was saying. All that was registering to his head were pretty boy, right, lied—and these words could not string themselves together to let him form a conclusion. That infuriated him, plus the fact that the girl was wearing a brown cloak and was blending in almost perfectly with the forest trees. If it was not for her golden hair standing out, Athrun would have lost her by now.

He tried to speed up his pace and just pushed through whatever was in front of him. "Come back!" he shouted again, his footing not yet going off. "Come back and return what's rightfully mine!"

"No!" she replied in a shriller voice—whether it was because of the exhilaration or because of something else, Cagalli did not have it in her to think too much into knowing. "I lied!"

But she was saying those more for herself than for him, she soon realized as she turned a corner. Those words were haunting her—just a few of the many from that night. There were no tears pooling in her eyes at the memory, but she felt her heart breaking all over again.

He was losing her, but he was still very much determined to catch up. And she was screaming out words over and over again: I lied, I lied. And he could not decipher the manic quality her words were displaying. He could see her go round a bend in the road and he ran to that specific spot, but five meters away from it, she emerged from the trees near the corner, on the white horse she was riding earlier. He skidded to a complete halt, almost slipping down onto a patch of moss.

"I told you I lied, didn't I?" she teased then threw a bunch of pebbles at him. He raised his arms up to cover him and she took that opportunity to ride off.

The small rocks grazed parts of his face—or at least his lip where there was blood seeping out of a small cut. He put his hand over his mouth to wipe it away, but he was still left with the taste of metal on his tongue and the bitterness of being bested by someone else—a girl from the forest, no less.

But that girl still had his ring and if he dared come back to Plants without it, his father would most definitely kill him. Groaning, he turned around and sprinted for his horse. He was going to find her, he swore to himself. I'm going to find you.

After ten minutes, Cagalli was staggering through the roots, trying to catch her breath. Kusanagi was trotting behind her, with a face none too pleased for a horse. When he let out a snort, Cagalli faced him and smiled. "Thank you, Kusanagi. I thought I was a goner back there," she admitted. "Thank you."

Kusanagi merely snorted in response, making Cagalli laugh at her companion's antics. "You're thirsty, aren't you?" She then stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes, focusing on hearing the familiar sound of the only source of water in the forest. She opened her eyes, and said, "It's too our left—but somewhere further up, I think. We've never made it this far from our little tree, have we, Kusanagi?"

She got no response from the horse, but it was fine with her—it was better than going insane from not speaking out. She took the reins of her horse and led them to the sound she heard. It became louder and louder as they approached the river, but when they finally arrived, they found that it wasn't leveled like the part near where they lived—it was a few meters below, and the only way to get there was to walk down the steep slope of the small cliff.

Cagalli bit her lip to think. How were they going to get water? She sighed and told the horse, "Wait here; I'll see if there's another way down."

She carefully treaded the precipice, trying to check for rocks to step on or hold onto while going down. She saw a series of those which looked to be loose, but—she crinkled her nose, she was going to try her luck anyway. Stepping on it, she found trusting her instinct to be a bad decision as she started to fall down. She let out a scream before colliding with the water.

This part of the river, she realized, wasn't as shallow as the one near her tree, and the current below was too rapid for her to swim out like she usually could. She was thrashing her arms in the water, trying to grab onto a rock or a branch or—anything. She wanted to cry out, but the water started to fill her lungs and she found it to be weird, the feeling of her lungs burning.

To her right, she saw Kusanagi running, trying to catch up to her. She smiled, always the loyal one. "Go home, Kusanagi!" she croaked faintly. If her horse heard it, she didn't know, couldn't tell, because she felt herself sinking. Was this going to be her demise? She didn't know, couldn't even let herself think. She wanted to remember her father and her friends, but somehow the water was addling her mind, and she wanted to cry, but didn't know if that was possible while underwater.

They say that when you die, you see this infamous flash of white light, see your life pass by your eyes—but that wasn't the case with Cagalli. She felt herself be lifted up slightly and when she opened her eyes, she only saw green, the same color she was cursing earlier.

"Hey, hey—wake up!" the guy said in a panic, but Cagalli didn't want to hear it and instead looked at him, all lost and bemused.

You could drown in those eyes, she said to herself, and she wanted to laugh at how silly the notion was.

"Open the gates!" Lacus heard one of her escorts shout. It was followed by the sound of heavy wood creaking and scraping against the paved road. She looked out of the window, trying to ignore the churning feeling of her stomach and instead focused on the lively faces of the children of Plant trying to wave at the carriage with such happy smiles gracing their innocent faces.

She wanted to tell herself that Athrun was safe—she had no doubt in his prowess and capability that he would make it through somehow, but she still feared for him. He didn't, after all, for himself, so she had to for his sake. She shook her head, she was not supposed to think of these things, but her concern for him was genuine—if not as his fiancée, then at least as a close friend of his.

The Zala castle was entering her line of vision and she could only wish that something would happen to stall her from reporting to the Supreme Council—and then explain to the king why his son was not with her. She lifted her hands from her lap to her stomach, where her nerves were certainly gathering.

"Follow the stars that lead into the quiet night," she sang in an attempt to calm herself. "Hold me close, so deep in your heart; I will find you—"

She paused when the carriage came to a halt. The door was opened by Martin DaCosta, and he held out his arm for her to take, saying, "Lady Clyne, we are at the castle."

She took his arm and stepped out of the carriage, giving him a nod. "Thank you, Martin, and to everyone else who accompanied me."

The escorts on their horses dismounted and gave her a salute. She didn't know how to react, but instead gave them an acknowledging nod as well. "I trust you to keep mum about Athrun's current whereabouts—at least to the king."

They nodded, though looked quite hesitant. She didn't mind; understood where their loyalty was supposed to lie, and went on her way. The Zala castle was foreboding at first sight. Lacus remembered the feeling of going here for the first time as a child.

She had looked up at the four towers standing at the corners of the area in astonishment. She turned to her father and asked why it was so tall—he said it was to oversee things. And when she entered the great hall, she saw portraits of royals lining the walls, vases containing various flowers underneath each.

She was so amazed at how grand everything was. Their estate was big, but this was an even bigger world. She wanted to stay here and add her own touch to the already pretty building. She asked her father how she could possibly do that and he laughed, said she had to marry the prince.

A second after he said that, two boys of her age came running out of an adjoined room. They seemed to be having fun chasing after this green bird—a pet, maybe. One of them had dark blue hair and green eyes while the other had brown hair and purple eyes. And she openly stared at the latter, thinking, if he's the prince, I'll marry him!

Her father took a step and bowed respectfully. "Prince Athrun," he greeted, smiling at the young boy. Both of them looked at the older man. "Is your father around?"

The boy with the blue hair answered, "Yes, he's waiting in his office, Sir Clyne."

Lacus felt her heart breaking for the first time, but still smiled courteously at the prince and his friend. And her father laughed aloud, "You can call me Uncle, Athrun. Except maybe when your father's around."

Athrun gave him an uneasy smile, but nodded all the same. "I shall do so, Uncle."

"Now who is your friend here?"

"My name is Kira Yamato, Sir," the little boy answered respectfully, bowing.

"My name is Lacus Clyne!" Lacus interjected almost comically. She felt her cheeks burn when the two boys turned to face her. Silly Lacus! Now he won't like you!

"Lacus…?" Kira carefully said her name and she smiled brightly in response.

"Yes, I'm Lacus!"

"Lacus?" a voice interjected, the same one from all those years ago, and brought her out of her small trance. "Lacus, are you okay?"

She blinked once, twice, and her vision closed in on the brunette. "Kira!" she greeted, smiling. "Yes, I'm fine. How about you?"

"I've been bored for the past week. I don't like having to cover for Athrun, but I guess it's inevitable as I am his aide," he sniggered. Your father is in a meeting upstairs with the rest of the council. Is that where you are headed?"

"Yes," she answered. "I am to hand in my report of what King George Allster said during our brief conference."

They climbed up the winding stairs that led to the Supreme Council chamber. They did so slowly, enjoying each other's company and suspending their inevitable separation. She laughed at the little stories he told of what happened while she and Athrun were gone.

And when they reached the doors of the council room, they stopped. He asked, "Where is he anyway?"

"He's somewhere in the forest, chasing after a fool who robbed us."

"Of what?"

"You know." And he gave a fleeting glance at her left hand, found it bare, and looked back at her with a shocked expression. "Thank you for spoiling it for me, though, Kira. Having someone steal it was more of a relief to me than you can imagine."

"But you should've known, Lacus," he explained, ruffling his hair. "Ever since we were young, you should have known the plans for you and Athrun, right?"

She could only sadly smile at him. Sometimes she cursed his obliviousness for her affections. Grimly avoiding the topic, she reached for the knob on the door and unlocked it. "Goodbye, Kira."

"And to you, too, milady."

"Damn," Athrun muttered under his breath. He had pulled them onto a river bend when the water was calmer. Kusanagi, the girl's horse, was waiting for them there and it would've trampled him if he wasn't carrying the blonde in his arms.

The first thing he did was lay her down on the mud, took her knife from its sheath and threw it into the river—he had to be cautious, after all. Once she was awake, maybe she would attack him, and he wasn't going to risk that. Then he knelt to her side and held her wrist, checking for a pulse.

It was faint, but it was fine—somehow. She wasn't breathing, and he put his hands over her chest and pushed the water out. After the first try, nothing came out, so he pushed harder. Her eyes opened with a start and she sat up, coughing out water. He adjusted his position to support her, one hand on her shoulder and the other patting her back softly.

When she was no longer convulsing, he removed her cloak and his own, stood up and went to a nearby tree to hang it on one branch. He passed by Kusanagi on his way there and he had to put his hands in front of him to tell the horse he meant no harm. Really, there's something wrong with this pair and their trust issues, he thought as he felt the fabric of their cloaks.

He saved me, it registered to Cagalli's mind what the blue-haired stranger she stole from just did for her. "You saved me," she voiced out, quivering. "Why did you save me?"

"It was the right thing to do," Athrun answered, though also not sure of what exactly his impetus was when he decided to jump off after the blonde. "You would've died. Quite frankly, I don't want to dirty myself from retrieving something from a corpse."

"Right, let me try that again—I hate you." She coughed out and wheezed for air, her hand clutching her chest tightly.

And he laughed, looking for flint he could use to start a fire to warm the both of them. When he found a small piece, he took out his knife and struck them together, watching the sparks fly out and hit the pile of small branches he's gathered. Once he got a proper fire, he sat next to it in exhaustion and let out a sigh. "You're quite troublesome, did you know that?"

"Yeah, I've been told," she muttered, crawling to the other side of the bonfire. "But thank you anyway. For saving me. I—I'll lead you back to Plants."

"You will?" he asked, his eyebrows pointed in interest. "That's nice, but really, you don't have to—"

"I will! Let me do that, please. I—" her bottom lip was quivering, and she was trying to keep it still by biting it down. "I was going to die, but you saved me—you could've died, too, so I—"

Athrun saw her sincerity as she shed a few tears from her golden eyes. He had this urge to get up and go to her, hold her, tell her it was okay, but—he couldn't. He didn't have it in him to comfort her. And the truth was that they were still strangers to each other and it wouldn't have been right to do so.

"Hey," he said, trying to lighten up the mood. "Calm down, it's fine. It'll be fine, okay? Trust me—"

"Trust you?" she quickly cut in, a bit mortified. The sun was starting to set somewhere to their right, and Cagalli was more than wary of what he might do when it was dark and she had nothing on her to defend herself. She felt for her knife, her only weapon, but did not find it in its holster. She couldn't trust him—what with his earlier attempts to take her down because he stole something from a small pouch which probably wasn't even valuable. "No."

Athrun just sighed, already used to the peculiarity of this girl. "Right, well, you're weird, I'll give you that." He stood up to stretch his lethargic limbs. "But we need to make this work, so you and I—"

Cagalli couldn't believe what she was seeing. One moment, he was sitting down opposite her, the next he was standing and basically brandishing off his uniform—a red coat. "You—you're a Zaft soldier."

He quirked a brow. "So what if I am? I'm also the prince of Plants, but I'm sure you don't care about that."

"You're going to kill me!"

"I just saved you a while ago, what the heck!"

"And you're the prince! If you're not going to kill me, then the people searching for you will!" she shouted her thoughts and stood up, stumbling as she tried to gain use of her legs. "Damn this—Kusanagi! Come here!"

The horse sauntered to her and she leaned on its torso, trying to balance herself. She was also shivering, but she couldn't see where he put her cloak, so she decided that she wouldn't deal with him any more than she already did. "Kusanagi, we're going home. We're—"

Athrun ran to her side and gripped her arm. "No, you're not going anywhere. You can hardly stand!"

"I can! I don't need you—just let me go! Let me go!" She was clutching onto the saddle now and kicking the ground, trying to mount on her horse. "Let me go!"

Athrun frowned, looked down in pity at the girl in his arms. He was embracing her now, trying to stabilize her as she hit him, as she tried to escape from his hold. "Hey, calm down, I won't—"

"No, you let me go right now!" she screamed, clawing at him. Cagalli could no longer hold the tears in and was openly weeping in front of him. "Let me go! Kisaka, I swear, let me go—"

Athrun didn't know who she was referring to, but when she fell limp in his arms, he fell down onto the ground with her. The horse neighed loudly, also concerned for his owner, but Athrun kept his eyes fixated on the girl who was so strong yet looked incredibly fragile.

Pulling back the thin strands of hair that stuck onto the tears on her cheeks, he bit his lower lip. Despite himself, he wanted to help this girl, this total stranger. He wanted to protect her, but there was the fact that they were who they were, and he didn't know what to feel about that.

End of Chapter Two

Notes: First asucaga scene was inspired by another scene from the show Once Upon A Time.

Song of the Chapter: A Fine Evening For A Rogue by Lydia

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