Adagio
Adagio – musical marking, slow and stately (literally, "at ease")
A/N: What is an apt word to describe a half-relationship? Methinks they are more than halfway there already.
Chapter 6: Bound (Mimamoru 見守って)
Bound is an interesting word. Its general meaning 'beholden' or 'hold or restrict by force' is laden with negativity. But there are different meanings to it. 'Bound to' means 'headed', 'destined', 'be determined' or 'resolved to'. A more poetic use as in 'spell-bound' means 'fascinated', 'entranced', 'mesmerized', or 'transfixed'.
The Japanese title Mimamoru is not a literal translation of the English title. Mi means 'watch'. Mamoru means 'protect'. The portmanteau indicates the policy of 'minimal intervention', 'watching but not touching', 'trusting one's inherent goodness to learn and grow'.
Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards. ― Søren Kierkegaard
"Are you sure you are not going with me, dear?" her mother asked for the third time.
Relena smiled. "I really can't, Mother. My team is not here today."
"I am sure we can have a few of our own people with you. Maybe Pagan?" she tried. "Or that security commander of yours?"
She shook her head, smiling. Her father used to teasingly insist that that her quiet stubbornness came from her mother. They might not be blood-related but those who didn't know – and even those who knew – couldn't deny the semblance.
"It is protocol, Mother. You know how strict they can be." Sensing her mother had not quite given up yet, she added. "And even if Heero was to agree, what would Mrs. Williams think, us crowding her house like that?"
"I understand." Her mother sighed, "It is a pity though. It has been ages since they last saw you."
A tiny guilt tugged at her heart, it was true that she had not come home often.
"Next time, Mother. I'll ask if they can adjust the requirement." Probably not, but she didn't voice it out loud.
"Or you know what, the ladies can come here instead. I am sure the protocol can be met more easily that way." She still needed to ask. She didn't think the customary body check would be taken all that well.
"Good idea, dear." Her mother brightened, leaning to kiss her cheek.
"Oh Mother, no kissing. I am already seventeen." She indulged her anyway, smiling. "Now, please do go on. The ladies will be waiting for you."
Her mother nodded, laughing. "Lady Miriam is very punctual."
"She is," Relena agreed.
Waving her mother off to tea time with other matrons, Relena turned back to head inside. She had promised herself not to work during her vacation. It had been a while since she had this much free time on her hands, she wasn't sure what to do.
She passed by the living room. It was still November, but the Christmas tree was already up. It was not decorated yet, but it reminded her that the holidays were coming.
The thought that she wouldn't be home for Christmas depressed her a bit. For the ESUN government, December 24 was a date of significance. It was the day when Eve Wars ended and the new unified nation was formally established. There would be a lot of events she had to attend, speeches, press conferences, formal banquets.
Well, with her trusty new security commander with her, it was unlikely that she would be taken hostage again like last year. There was that, at least.
Her mother would be lonely though, and knowing how she was, more than a little worried. Thinking to herself, she headed over to the kitchen.
She would like to leave something. She had all this free time on her hands anyway.
He was making his scheduled round through the manor. Checking in on Relena, he found her in the kitchen.
"Hello Heero," her hands were covered with flour.
He walked over, "...what are you doing?"
"Making cookies," she answered, her attention focused on the bowl.
She spent several minutes mixing the flour into a creamy looking batter. She stopped, placing the metal bowl on the counter, frowning, shaking her right hand. She made circular movements with her right arm, looking mildly pained.
He saw an electric mixer lying nearby, unplugged. She clearly had been doing all the mixing by hand.
"Is it broken?" he guessed.
She made a celebratory sound effect, a smile spreading across her lips. "Bingo."
He almost did a double-take. At home, she was different. She talked and walked and generally acted different. More casual, more relaxed, more playful. He could hardly reconcile this image of her with what was he now realized her work persona. She stood there in the kitchen, wearing a bright red apron, hair put up in a high ponytail. Shorter strands of honey blond hair had come loose, framing both sides of her face. There was flour on her hands, extending all the way to one elbow. There was a faint streak of white on one side of her cheek.
In the last seven months, he had seen so many sides of her.
He had always known the full torchlight of her public persona. Her determination and strength, bright like a beacon in night time, like a lighthouse in the middle of a storm. That part of her came through on air, on screen, in person. It was what made so many people flocked to her side.
Then there was the gentle glow of her, shown only in private, to people closest to her. When her genuineness was subdued, but no less true. When her assurances were kind, her trust constant. When her selflessness was barely noticeable, her humility meek. When her lighthearted self was out in the open. When, on rare occasions, she let her more vulnerable self visible.
Even rarer then, there were these unexpected ways she shined. When she was comfortable enough to lax those perfect manners, so deeply ingrained in her. To tease, to be playful. It was like looking at a star, twinkling in a distant galaxy. Alive and changing and endlessly fascinating. He couldn't quite make out what to do with this side of her.
"And you decided to make it anyway?"
"All the ingredients were already in the bowl," Relena shrugged. "I didn't want to waste them."
She bent to grab the mixing bowl, intent to continue. He beat her to it. She couldn't help raising her eyebrows at him.
There was this odd look in his eyes. She, still unable to meet his gaze for too long, didn't dare to peer in closely.
"It is sugar cookies," she said, extending one hand and wiggling it in a 'give it back please' gesture. "Very easy to make. The dough is almost done."
Instead of handing the bowl over, he circled the marble countertop to stand by her side. She inadvertently took half a step back. Catching herself, she tried not to be overly self-conscious.
"I shouldn't mess up too badly then," he replied, prying the manual whisk off her own hand. She could hardly believe her ears. "You can supervise."
Life was truly unexpected, she thought. No one would believe what she was about to witness. Heero Yuy, baking.
"Well then," she fought to maintain her calm. "Instruction number one, please wash your hands first."
He made his way to the sink, obeying order.
"Instruction number two," she called out, just to be contrary. "You'll need to wear an apron."
She expected him to balk, but got disappointed. She had forgotten that once Heero accepted a mission, he never left it unfinished.
Mareen Darlian saw a glass jar filled with pale sugar cookies sitting on the counter. That was nostalgic.
"Did you bake these, Simone?"
"No, madam." The manor's head chef bowed, "I think Miss Relena did."
"Did she? Oh that child." She smiled and shook her head. She would keep quiet until Relena brought it up. Her daughter and her little surprises. Some things never changed.
She paused on the doorway. "Simone, do help me to recall. Wasn't the mixer broken?"
The senior cook put a hand on her round cheek, wrinkles on her face deepeed as she frowned.
"I was sure it was, madam." She replied, "I checked again today. The oddest thing is, it is working again now."
"We didn't order a new one?"
"Still the same one, madam."
Were they getting old? Mareen thought as she headed out of the kitchen. She thought she wasn't yet that age when one was forgetting things.
"The car is waiting in front, madam," the white haired butler bowed.
"Thank you, Pagan," the mistress of the house replied. "Relena is...?"
"In the library."
"Of course," Mareen smiled fondly. "Please bring her some tea, and perhaps a blanket. The weather is getting colder."
"As you wish, madam."
Pagan headed to the library, carrying a tray of refreshments and Relena's favorite black tea, a blanket on one arm.
He found the young miss curled up on an armchair, sleeping. Pagan registered the brown Preventer jacket on her in the same second as the presence of its owner. All of Pagan's old instincts stand on end.
Heero was positioned in the hard corner of the room, in what was commonly considered a 'dead zone', perfect for ambush. It would only take one bullet.
The young man acknowledged him. He eyed the tray, then the sleeping figure. The intimidating air dissipated.
"For her?"
"Madam's order," Pagan's voice was calm, unperturbed. Years of experience to fall back on.
Heero nodded.
Pagan went further into the library, placing the tray on the coffee table noiselessly. Judging the blanket was currently unnecessary, he folded it and placed it on the sofa nearby.
Turning to leave, he left some parting words. "The water will be cold. Please tell the miss to ring for a fresh pot when she wakes up."
"She likes her tea served in a certain way," Pagan disclosed quietly.
There was a subtle interest in the other man's eyes. He nodded.
Pagan bowed and headed out. In his long years of living, he had developed an eye to accurately profile a person. Having experienced and survived several wars, he could recognize a danger or a threat. Or a potential one. At the beginning of the Eve Wars, he had profiled the young man as the first. At the end of the war, he profiled him as the latter.
When the young miss told her about her new security commander, he thought she was putting herself in precarious situation. A tiger couldn't change its stripes. Neither it could erase the traces of blood from its claws. One couldn't change entirely, he could personally attest to that.
He could also attest to how a man could change enough.
Even from young age, his miss had always had that touch on people, changing things for the better. It shouldn't surprise Pagan that it included even the young man.
Relena spent her Sunday evening at home digging through her closet.
Her mother walked into her bedroom. "Relena?"
"In here," she answered.
Eyeing the pile of dresses on the bed, her mother asked. "Looking for something, dear?"
"There is a work party on Christmas Eve," she explained. "For the Foundation Day. I need a dress."
"You don't have one at your home in Brussels?"
"Suit dresses, some casual ones. A couple gowns I have on hand have been used in previous events."
"The curse of being a female," her mother commented. "Is it a white tie or a black tie?"
"White tie." She peeked out of the closet, catching her mother's commiserating smile. "Unfortunately."
"Have you thought of ordering a new one? Christmas is not in a few weeks."
Walking over, her mother took out a dress. It was a light, buttery yellow with a somewhat tan hue. There was gold embroidery on the edge of the skirt.
Relena obediently went closer, standing straight.
Her mother held the gown against her, thinking. "I think you should get a new dress, dear. You are getting taller again."
"Really?" She took the gown with her to a nearby mirror.
Her mother took a seat on her bed, gently smiling.
Although it was not very noticeable, it did fall a little short. "Huh. I thought I had stopped growing."
Giving up on her hunt, she sat down on the bed and put the yellow dress on top of the pile.
"Would you like me to order one for you?"
"Yes please." She sent her mother a bright smile, thankful. "You always have the better taste."
Her mother patted her hand, laughing. "No need for flattery, dear."
She grinned, insisting. "It is true. Father always said so."
They fell on the familiar banter. "Well, I did pick him out for a husband."
They held hands, reminiscing, missing him. The two years softened the ache, but not filling in the void entirely.
"A letter was sent to the manor." Her mother broke the silence first. "From Sanc."
Relena's shoulders dropped. "Yes. I got the letter too."
Her mother waited, patient.
"I don't know, Mother." She said, voice uncertain. "After the wars, I told them to abolish the monarchy. I still think that is the best thing to do. United nations, democracy, and all."
"And you have your father's post as the vice minister." Her mother nodded. "Which is ending relatively soon."
Relena looked at her hands. "Yes, that too."
She was turning eighteen next year. The minister had gently asked if she considered to run again with him after their term ended. Sanc's current representative had reached out to ask if she would consider taking back her crown, or a place as the chief representative. The referendum conducted in the previous year supported the move to abolish the monarchy, but it nearly fell short of the majority vote. In the following year, there had been internal movements to hold a second referendum. Her competence as the vice minister made the citizens think she would make a good ruler. The local council had pushed them back using her age and federal duties as the reasons. The legal age for Sanc was twenty one, but if she was to leave the ESUN government, she knew the voices would get louder.
Her mother sensed her turmoil, staying silent for some time. "Big decisions, dear."
She shot her a smile, trying for levity and failing.
Her mother reached out to stroke her hair, tucking it behind one ear. "What do you want to do?"
She shook her head, for once having no word to answer.
Mareen Darlian watched her daughter, feeling her tumult as if it was hers.
Relena had always been a good child. Obedient and mature, easy to please. She had nothing to compare to but she imagined no other child was easier to raise. Or easier to love. She always returned both hers and her husband's doting affection many times over, eager to meet and exceed all their expectations.
Oh it wasn't that her daughter was perfect. Relena had this stubborn streak, which though she had never admitted to her husband, was inherited from her. Then there was the drive and tendency to dive headfirst into things, which was more her husband. The passionate combination worried her often.
Yet she was never egoistical, never demanding, never complaining. Mareen wondered if Relena's hesitancy in rejecting Sanc kingdom's throne was out of sense of obligation or due to her love of her father. His dying words were to reveal the legacy of her birth. She never wanted to disappoint anyone, least of all her parents.
Mareen wished she could take away the burden on her shoulders. She was too young for all of this. She knew her husband would have wished the same.
I wish I could choose for you, dearest. But a life decision is not like a dress.
"If we are talking about careers," she began.
Relena looked up to her. She had that listening face on. Mareen could almost hear the voice of her much younger self saying 'Yes, Mother'.
"There were a few times in the past you actually wrote what you wanted to be in the future."
That made her daughter smile. "That's right."
"Do you remember what you wrote?"
That made her think. "There was a career questionnaire after I entered Saint Gabriel. Before that there was another one in junior high."
"Yes dearest, those were the ones from school." She smiled, stroking her hair again. "You wrote others even before then."
She blinked, trying to remember. "I did?"
"There were a lot of things you wanted to be, you know. For some time you were an aspiring painter, an architect, a dancer."
She chuckled quietly. "How old was I?"
"Six," her mother replied, smiling back. "Your father had your masterpiece framed in his study."
Relena hid her face in embarrassment, recalling. "The one I drew for Father's Day. I thought I convinced him to throw it away."
She shook her head, teasing. "Throwing away a masterpiece like that?"
"It does look a bit like a Picasso painting," her daughter sighed self-deprecatingly. "It may have some worth."
Mareen smiled. "When you were older, you wanted to be a veterinarian. Then a lawyer."
"Elementary school, we were living in South Africa." Relena's eyes lit with recollection. "The other one was much later... I wrote lawyer in the junior high career form."
She nodded. "And the one in senior high?"
"A diplomat. I wrote foreign minister as the second choice."
"Yes my dear," she smiled. "You always looked up to your father. Always daddy's girl, weren't you?"
"Oh Mother." They fell back to another familiar banter: if she loved her mother or her father best. Relena went to hug her. "You know I love you too."
"I love you too, Relena."
She gently patted her daughter's back. "Now then. There are things to consider after experiencing the work first-hand. Is it unlike what you imagined? Do you hate the job?"
"No. The work can be tiring, but fulfilling." She shook her head, smiling. "I like to feel useful."
"That you do, dear."
Relena smiled, appearing much less burdened than before.
"There is still time to think things over. Don't stress too much over it," she advised. "If you choose wrongly, well... You can always change your mind later."
Her daughter's smile was thin, laden with uncertainty. Unlike most people, her choice had a much bigger effect. "If possible, I don't want to choose wrong."
"I want to say you won't dear, but I know it will just put more pressure on you." She reached out to stroke her daughter's cheek. "Just know whatever you choose, whatever you do, we are always proud of you."
Relena held her eyes for a few seconds, before nodding. Mareen released her daughter.
"You said the same thing before, you know." Seemingly back to her usual self, Relena commented lightly, "Father too."
"We did, didn't we?"
Relena rose to her feet, shaking her head.
"Change of topic," she said. "I baked some Christmas cookies yesterday."
Pretending to be surprised, Mareen looked up at her daughter. "Did you? Thank you, my dear."
"Sorry that I can't come home for the holidays. Will our parish host a Christmas party this year?"
"Yes they will." Rising to her feet as well, Mareen smiled. "Don't worry about your old mother. I will be fine."
Relena went to gather the discarded dresses, hanging them again in the closet one-by-one.
"The cook told me the mixer was broken, dear. Did you know that?"
A light laughter sounded from inside the closet. "No I didn't. We mixed everything by hand. Good thing the cookies turned out okay."
Hm... "We?"
"I had help," her tone turned sheepish. She peeked out of the closet. Mareen just looked at her daughter with her patently patient smile on. "Heero helped me out with the dough."
Too composed to appear surprised, Mareen simply said. "I was told the mixer is no longer broken now. Do you know anything about that too?"
"Really?" Relena's voice sounded genuinely surprised, before turning thoughtful. "I'll have to ask him."
Well, well. "Give him my thanks, won't you? There's a fine young man you have here."
Closing the closet's doors, Relena turned to face her, laughing.
"Not 'my' young man," she held both hands up. "Heero is just nice."
Somehow 'nice' was not an adjective she would use for the young man. In the handful of interactions they had, Relena's new security commander gave impression of aloofness. Very professional.
"If you say so, dear."
"I say so," Relena evaded. "Speaking of which, ball gown. You'll need my measurements, won't you?"
Mareen let the topic shift. "Good call."
"I'll get the measuring tape," she cheerfully said, retreating behind the door.
"Can't sleep?"
Relena nearly jumped out of her skin. She clasped one hand on her mouth, silencing a breathless shriek.
Heero joined her near the library's large windows, vigilant eyes scanning outside.
"No." It took some time to steady her pulse. "Just woke up too early."
He made a low sound of acknowledgement, saying nothing.
It was some time before dawn. In the dark library, the only source of light was the one lamp on the side table, which she had turned on when stepping inside.
She wrapped her oversized shawl more closely around her, feeling self-conscious again. She really needed to get over it.
The low light illuminated one side of her figure. She placed a hand on the glass window, facing him.
"I think it is because of yesterday." She said, referring to the afternoon's nap, her tone light. "You should have woken me up."
He tilted his head as an answer.
"And what are you doing not sleeping?"
"Working," he replied. "I am on the night watch."
She hummed, "Shouldn't you be in the monitoring room then?"
He took out his e-pad. "I can do it here too."
"...were you always able to do that?"
He turned to face her, letting his face visible. "No."
Something clicked in her.
"I thought you were rather busy these past few days. I didn't know you were revamping my home security." She chuckled, "And repairing my mixer."
So she found out. "Hn."
"Here is a crazy question," she ventured. "Is it possible to install an a body scanner on the front door? Preferably an inconspicuous one?"
He needed a few seconds to absorb that, "What do you mean?"
She went to share the conversation she had the day before the previous day. How the security protocol didn't allow her to go out to visit her mother's friends.
She shrugged, "I figured if I can't go out, they may be able to come here instead. Can they?"
"...I'll find out."
She smiled, turning back to the window. "No pressure."
It had occurred to him from time to time that the security around her were awfully restraining. Necessary, perhaps, but she ought not to feel like a prisoner. Something had to change, he promised himself.
He studied her wordlessly. She looked cold standing there near the window. She looked distant.
He felt at a loss, wanting to give an answer right away, finding a way to help her. Something...
A plan formulated in his head. He silently took inventory of their location, the time, the security arrangements, the current weather. He objectively weighed in the pros and cons, the risk factor, considering different possibilities.
"Relena," he called. "You said you wanted to see the sea."
"Hm...? I did, didn't I? It is pretty close, you know. I used to go all the time."
"Do you still want to go?"
She turned, smiling. "Oh yes. You think I can?"
He nodded resolutely. "Then let's go."
When Heero told her she could go to see the sea, she thought it was for later. Maybe before they left tomorrow, a little viewing from inside the car. More likely after, advance planning for when she came back home again.
She didn't think he meant now.
She stared at him, trying to figure out if she understood him wrong.
"You may want to fetch a jacket," he simply said. "And shoes."
She looked at him in shock. Here was yet another item to add to her list of 'things Heero did that caught her by surprise'.
"It is before dawn, there shouldn't be any people. The weather is warm." He lifted his hand, checking the time on his wrist link. "We have more than two hours before the next shift starts."
He was serious. It was unlike him, and so like him at the same time.
"I scouted the area before, we don't need to go too far. Just like you said." He continued, catching her eyes, his stare holding. "It is safe, Relena. I will be with you."
Good thing it was dark in the room, Relena thought. She wasn't sure how her face looked like.
She wondered if this counted as 'breaking curfew'.
They were able to get out safely, and surprisingly easily. Heero pressed a few buttons to adjust the cameras in the hallways and foyer. Just in case anyone else came to check. Nothing else was needed. They even went out normally from the front door.
"Is it this easy to get out?" she said wonderingly, more to herself.
"The system is designed to keep intruders from coming in. Not to bar people from going out."
She grinned, feeling rebellious. "I learned something then."
It was dark, but she was almost sure he was smiling. "Do not try this on your own."
"Because I will get caught?"
"Because it is unsafe," he replied plainly. "Also, correct, you will get caught."
They were far enough from home that she felt free to laugh out loud. There was really no other soul around. She guessed no other person was crazy enough to visit the beach in the wee hours.
They didn't have to walk too long to reach the beach.
Relena passed over the few benches which sat closer to the side of the road, continuing to walk along the shoreline.
She was smiling as if she was happy.
He was fighting himself during the few minutes they spent breaking out of the house. Her smile made him think this was the right thing to do.
She was telling him that her family used to have a large pet dog, and she used to walk him on the beach. The dog had passed away due to old age years ago, but she continued walking the route just because. She told the truth when she said she used to go to the beach all the time.
This was where she found him too, injured and washed up on the beach.
Then and there, he felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. This was the road to her. A beautiful place, filled with warm memories. Then he came into the picture, bringing the war with him. Destruction and fear and a whole lot of heartaches. Sometimes he wondered if it would be better for the two of them to never meet.
"Heero?" she paused, turning to him.
"Nothing," he said. "What was the dog's name?"
She smiled, continuing to walk in front of him. "Shiro."
"His fur was white?"
Laughing, she confirmed his guess. "I have a wonderful naming sense, don't I?"
They walked until around the middle of the beach. There was a large log of wood lying on the sand. The salty air and sea had stripped the bark completely off, leaving the outer skin smooth.
She seated herself on it. Heero followed suit.
Relena zipped her jacket all the way up, shoving both hands in her pockets. It was an unusually warm autumn night, but the early morning wind was still cold.
They sat in companionable silence, watching the waves lapping on the shore. It was almost new moon. The night sky was a little forecast, but there were several stars still visible. She saw Venus, the morning star, shining bright near the waning crescent moon. She thought she found Mars, though she couldn't be sure. She thought of her brother. And Lucrezia. She hoped they were doing well.
"I have been thinking about the future."
She saw him turning to look at her. He remained silent. Talking with her mother made her recall a lot of things. She had, or used to have, a lot of dreams. The future. If they could have anything in the world...
"I am taking college classes," she told him. "Online degree. In political science."
Taking in the unperturbed look on his face, she said, "You already knew."
Somehow that didn't surprise her. "Not too long ago, I aimed for a different career you know."
She smiled, satisfied that she managed to successfully surprise him. "For some time I seriously considered becoming a lawyer."
"You'd be good at it," he said.
She chuckled, thanking him. "Being a lawyer has its own risks, doesn't it?"
"It depends on the type," was his reply.
"Criminal prosecutor," she said. "Versus say... estate planning? Scratch that, inheritance issues can be messy."
She laughed again, "Anyhow. I was already set on a political science major since high school."
She caught his eyes again, briefly. "Even before." Before the war, before her father's death.
"It turned out a little differently than what I had in mind."
"I had planned to apply for an exchange program, abroad or off-planet. Second year maybe, for a term or two."
She looked at the night sea, the horizon looked so vast.
"Then a gap year post-graduation. There is this volunteer program, Médecins Sans Frontières." (Doctors Without Borders)
"I had been taking medical certifications since junior high." Again, Heero didn't appear to be surprised.
"Or just traveling. There are a lot of places I haven't been to."
She continued, looking to the front. The sea breeze felt cool on her face.
"Places I never got to revisit. I promised my friends to come back, to see them again. They may have forgotten all about me."
Heero thought they wouldn't. But he didn't say anything.
She had had a lot of farewells. He wondered if he would end up the same as others, just another episode in her life, a chapter perhaps, a fond remembrance. Something cold lanced through him at that thought. Relena didn't notice.
She shifted on her seat, looking at him. "Have you ever thought of the future, Heero?"
He opened his mouth. He could share that he had been taking college classes too.
What came out was, "I didn't think I would live after the wars ended."
For a few seconds, only the sound of waves could be heard.
She stared at him with wide eyes. His eyes remained flat and almost cold.
He broke his gaze, "I wasn't going to say it like this."
"It's okay," she was surprised that her own voice sounded composed.
"It is okay," she repeated, trying to inject strength into it, trying to sound determined, encouraging. "I will hear it. Please tell me."
A gust of wind blew his dark hair off his forehead. He winced, but brought his eyes back to her.
"Relena, I..." he started. "I never have the life you had."
She waited, remaining quiet. Only encouraging him with her eyes.
"I was made an orphan from a young age. A few people saw my talent and took me in." His words were somber but his face had a detached look to it, like he was narrating someone else's life. "A talent for killing. I took their hands."
"I was raised and trained for a single purpose."
It was painful for her to hear the words, to meet his eyes. She imagined it was much more difficult for him.
"When we were deployed for Operation Meteor, our instructions didn't include a tactical retreat. Or any path of return."
That explained a few things. His reckless attitude, rushing headlong into the battlefield, into missions with the least chance of success.
"I never expected myself to be alive after the mission."
His face didn't change, his voice aloof. Only by chance Relena looked down and saw that his hands had clenched into fists on his side. They were shaking.
She covered his hands with hers.
His face finally broke. Closing both eyes, he choked. "But–"
She couldn't stand to hear more. She rose from her seat, extending both hands to hug him.
She thought of last year, when he collapsed in her arms in the underground bunker. Heero had been fighting his whole life. Exactly what did he have left, now that there was no more battle to fight?
"I was envious of you."
Although he couldn't see her, she smiled anyway. She thought of the first time they met. "You weren't very fond of me back then."
He let out a strangled sound, like a half-laughter. He held on to her.
"You see," she began. "I envied you too."
"I was ignorant. I didn't know a lot of things back then."
She thought back to that time. She didn't know the feeling of despair, the feeling of loss. The burning coldness of hatred. The frustration of being helpless.
"You knew what was happening. You were making a difference."
"When I lost my father, you made me feel that I should be strong."
Her father had died protecting her. To this day she still thought of 'what if'. What if she wasn't there on that day? What if her parents never took her in? Would her father still be alive today? Would they both stay happy? She knew they wouldn't want her to think like that.
"I was happy to fight by your side," she said earnestly.
"It felt like you lent your strength to me." She had truly felt so, she still did.
"What we have now is the result of a lot of people fighting."
"No one can do everything alone. Everything is like that," she said. She tried to find the right words, desperately wanting him to understand. "Like with the Brussels siege. Like with Libra. It was because you worked hard, and came so far for people..."
She pressed one side of her face to his hair. "Please don't begrudge yourself for living."
She felt rather than heard his sharp inhale.
Relena thought of her father. Wasn't that what Father was trying to tell me too? If only he could see the peace he had worked so hard for...
She realized the sky had turned brighter. There was a red tinge in the pre-dawn light.
Heero shifted in her embrace. She opened up her arms and let him go.
It was still mostly dark, but she could see his face clearly now.
The wooden expression wasn't there anymore. His dark blue eyes, usually so piercing, had a soft look. She smiled at him in return.
"Aren't you cold?"
She had not spared a thought on that. She rubbed her hands together. "Actually, I am."
He rose to his feet, "Let's head back."
She took his extended hand gladly. And all the way to the manor, neither of them let go.
They were in the library again.
Relena sat across him. She was working on her laptop, he on his.
He was curious. She had not touched her laptop the whole weekend.
"Financial reports?"
She looked up to him. The sunlight came through the tall windows of the library, illuminating the entire room. He realized in certain lighting, her eyes had sea green in them.
"No, term papers," she answered. "And preparing for final exams."
He nodded.
"And you? What are you working on?"
"Installing software updates for the manor's security system." And erasing the traces of them going in and out of the house this morning from the logs. But he didn't tell her that.
She hummed. "I am also trying to check schedules for the next term. I think I will take a minor in Economics."
This might be a good opportunity to say what he didn't get to say. "I am taking college classes too."
Her eyes looked back up to him, delightfully surprised. "You are? Which university? What courses?"
He pulled his course schedule up, turning his laptop to her. She squinted, then rose from her seat. She stood up next to him, turning back his laptop to his side.
Looking over his shoulder, she read through the details. He scrolled down when told to.
"Algorithm. Calculus. Linear Algebra." She read out loud. "Introduction to Machine Learning."
"Computer science courses," he supplied helpfully.
"Psychology," her voice rose as she saw the less than common elective courses, "Philosophy. Really, Heero?"
"I am branching out."
Her light chuckle sounded pleasant right next to his ear.
Mareen Darlian went to see her daughter off.
"I'll get the dress sent to your place, dear."
"You know Mother, why don't you order one for yourself too? You can come to Brussels for the holidays."
"No my dear," she shook her head, smiling. "I've had my share of parties in the twenty years I was with your father."
Relena laughed and hugged her.
Releasing her daughter from her arms, she reminded her. "Call me when you get home."
"Will do, Mother."
Mareen went to have a private word with the young agent.
"Please take care of her."
She had asked this of every single officer who had came with her. Relena's quiet 'oh mother' could be heard in the background.
His eyes were solemn, his gaze straight.
"I will."
His answer was short. Yet it sounded like an attestation of truth. There was a ring of inviolability in his words.
It didn't feel like a courtesy answer. Not a mere professionalism, at least not entirely.
Pagan had finished loading in all the bags into the trunk. She walked back to the foyer. She watched the young man opened the car door for her daughter, before walking over to get into the driver's seat.
Since that night of their conversation, Mareen had observed the youngster closely.
From what little she had, what Pagan shared with her, what the house staff mentioned, she had painted a picture.
A complete opposite of her daughter. Awfully quiet. Somberly solemn. Withdrawn. More than a little awkward.
Beneath it there was a fine young man.
Attentive. Caring. Competent at his job. Seemed to think the world of her daughter.
Not her young man, her daughter had said.
Mareen liked to think that she was rather observant. When her husband was actively mired in politics, he often brought her along on events and parties. Not only because he had loved to be with her, but he also relied on her level-headed input and keen insight.
Age allowed her to see things her daughter could not.
From her own personal experience, the heart wanted what it wanted.
Her own marriage was a love match. Her family had wanted a more advantageous union. Marrying a commoner reduced her to a mere Mrs. Darlian – as opposed to her girlhood title Lady Mareen Courtenay. She had chosen Christopher Richard regardless, despite him having little to his name back then. Christoph was passionate, she was more cautiously reserved. When she chose him, she did so with her heart, yes, but also with both eyes wide open. She had never regretted it once.
She hoped her daughter would do the same.
Mareen knew she didn't have the full picture. Whatever secret her beloved daughter hid, she must have done so for a good reason.
Nevertheless she couldn't help but worry. Relena might have grown up, but in her heart she would always be her little girl.
When you find someone who does not make you so afraid of the future, hang on to them. ― Anonymous
A/N: Brava Mrs. Darlian *hats off* Then again, I expected no less from someone who kept a top secret safe for fifteen years. On the other hand... Christopher Richard? That, my lady, must have been a whirlwind romance.