Crossover With Non-anime Series Fan Fiction / Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ On a Pale Horse ❯ No Plan Survives First Contact ( Chapter 7 )

Disclaimer: As far as Mobile Suit Gundam Wing goes: Bandai has rights. Sunrise has rights. Sotsu Agency has rights. Rally does not have rights; she just likes to play with the characters. It's so much fun. As far as the world of Valdemar and Velgarth go: Mercedes Lackey has rights. DAW books have rights. Rally (again) does not have rights; she just loves dropping confused bishies in and waiting to see how long it'll take them to swim. (Again) it's just so much fun!

A/N: "Italics" is Duo speaking in Standard. "No italics" mean he's speaking Valdemaren. :Colons and Italics: indicate Mindspeech.

On A Pale Horse
-No Plan Survives First Contact-

Simaree had thought Tehlin was a difficult person to keep pace with; she was quickly learning that the Dean far excelled the Armsmaster in sheer speed. The students found themselves jogging simply to avoid loosing him and the Dean seemed determined to drag them through the entire Herald's Collegium. He paused only to hold open the door leading outside. Simaree leapt at the opportunity to question him.

"Sir, where are we going?" Dean Ayden grinned, closing the door securely behind the group. "Sir?"

The Dean allowed her to stew for only a few more seconds. "Trainee Alaen has expressed interest in the health of a particular resident of the House of Healing, has he not? I thought it best if he were to meet the young man and discover that he is doing just fine."

The L-shaped, granite structure that loomed straight ahead included both the House of Healing and the Healer's Collegium and at this late morning hour, it was only just beginning to wake from its nightly slumber. The building was a nest of activity; students, Healers, workers, assistants, patients all moving from one job to another, one appointment to the next. Simaree had never had the time to just stop and watch the activity around her before. It was fascinating, like the first time she'd seen Haven from afar, all that energy—all that dissonance—blending its way into organized chaos.

There was a tug on Simaree's sleeve. "So, then..." began a small voice, "He's all right?"

"Of course, he's all right, Alaen. You would like to meet him?" At Alaen's nod, the Dean motioned for them to follow. This time he kept it down to a sedate walk. "His name is Duo Maxwell and from what I can gather he's around your age, Alaen. Due to his injury he'd been unconscious for just over a fortnight but, I assure you, he insists that the 'accident' was entirely of his own making. Just last night he woke up and something tells me that now that he's awake he won't remain in his bed for too much longer." He paused his explanation for a thoughtful moment before nodding as he came to some undisclosed decision. "I had thought of sending Grennon to keep him company until he further recovered, but I don't see why you and Simaree can't take the job."

Grennon was a Trainee a year older than Simaree, on the verge of earning his Whites and out of all the Trainees, Gren was the best at handling people; he had a gift for reading what a person needed and responding to that need with exactly the right solution. At first glance, Gren seemed like the perfect person to baby sit an injured, confused child, but after a few seconds of contemplation, he seemed too good for the job. It was almost overkill.

"Why Gren, sir? And if Alaen and I are going to be replacing him is there something about this kid that we should know?"

"He's a foreigner, doesn't speak Valdemaren very well and seems to be surprised by pretty much every aspect of not just our culture but our daily lives. I wouldn't worry though, he's an astute student—and by 'astute' I mean 'brutally avid.' Simply brilliant. He doesn't speak Valdemaren very well, but when I met him last night he didn't speak it at all. He's polite, considerate and seems to be a very optimistic fellow."

Either the Dean had stumbled upon the student of every teacher's dreams or he was purposely over exaggerating the kid's good qualities, as if he were hiding something. "If he's a foreigner, may I ask where's he from?" As soon as the words left her mouth, her stomach churned with suspicion. "He's from Karse, isn't he? We've a Karsite nestled in the heart of Haven!"

At that, the Dean laughed. "No, he's not from Karse." He reached to open the door into the House of Healing and waved his students through.

"Then where?" Simaree asked moving ahead and thrusting out an arm to block the Dean's advance, at the same time giving Alaen and Tehlin plenty of room to pass behind her.

Another of those reveal nothing grins concealed the Dean's surprise almost immediately. "That is an excellent question."

Duo had made to the far side of the building when he realized that he was sulking. And that he'd just potentially estranged an ally by behaving like a dick to her. He'd just stalked away like an angry child who'd just gotten his favorite toy taken away. He hated both sulking and acting like a child.

"So, what are ya gonna do about it, Maxwell? You're gonna stop whining and think this thing through." After all, his biggest problem was how to get home. Up until now, he'd just labeled it as impossible, each new thing he learned about this world only served to confuse him and "confirm" his theory, but what had he actually done to prove it? Nothing. Right. So, solution number one: find out everything he can about how he got here and where he was found.

His second biggest problem was communication. Or rather, his lack there of. Hell, that one was easy! Onette could, and probably would, help him digest the language faster than he could on his own if he'd stop treating her like crap and ask. It wasn't like Valdemaren was all that complex. He'd already deciphered the basics of syntax and grammar. The only thing left was to increase his vocabulary.

The third problem was more of a mental issue. Since waking up, he'd been compelled by an almost aching need to trust these people. It warred with every survival instinct pummeled into him and a few he was born with. This was the problem that he still had no idea how to handle and frankly it was kind of freakish. Duo Maxwell never trusts anyone right off. Ever. Oh, sure, he was good at making others believe that he trusted them, but actual trust was hard earned.

Now, that he was calm and thinking rationally, the simplicity of the solution struck him: just treat it like any other mission. He'd keep his distance while maintaining his cover, collect the data and then get out. He could do this. As long as the people around him were convinced that he was merely an ordinary teenager, everything would be fine.

Step one: find Onette and apologize.

"Gone?"

The Healer Trainee left behind as the bearer of ill tidings was approximately in her second year. She had long brown hair pulled into a tail at the base of her neck and looked as if, under normal circumstances, her personality was quite sunny. As it was, her features were schooled into a mask of solemnity. But then, informing the Dean of the Herald's Collegium and the Weaponsmaster that a patient had been allowed to escape would tend to do that to a person. "I'm very sorry, sir. Healer Learen asked me to tell you that he's in good shape and should be fine as long as he doesn't do anything reckless. But if you should happen to find him, send him back so she can release him. She also said, 'He'll make a fine Herald; he's already acting like an injured one. He's all yours.'"

The Dean merely chuckled. "You may tell Healer Learen that I am delighted to take him off her hands and I'll be sure to bring him back. Soon, if possible." The girl nodded and turned to run down the hall. Simaree didn't blame her. Were their positions reversed, she'd have done the same.

"Where do you suppose he's gone, sir?" That had come from Alaen, but it expressed Simaree's thoughts exactly.

"Like any newly chosen, I suspect that he's with his Companion. When we find Onette, we'll find young Duo."

Well, that sounded easy enough, since the easiest way to locate a Companion is to ask a Companion.

:Feyan?: Simaree Mindcalled.

The response was prompt, but not without heartfelt greeting. :Good morning, Chosen.:

:Morning, Feyan. Have you seen Onette around? The Dean, the Armsmaster, Alaen and I are looking for her Chosen. I thought you might know where she is.:

:I haven't, but I'll ask around. I know that she's been spending most of her time lurking around the House of Healing. Perhaps—:

:—a quick walk around will confirm,: Simaree interrupted, nodding. :Got it. Thanks, Love. Let me know if you find out anything else.:

"Well," Simaree began, looking up and noticing that the Dean was also conversing with his Companion, "Let me take a run around the building. Feyan says Onette's been spending most of her time here. Sounds like she was just waiting for him to wake up so she could meet with him."

"Sounds good. We'll wait here, in case he comes back."

"Right! Won't be a moment." Simaree pelted down the hallway, hitting the door at a full run. Her sprint was halted by the harsh sunlight and she threw an arm over her eyes until they adjusted. As she turned the far corner of the building she bumped into a Healer Trainee, knocking the poor child into a sprawl on the ground. "Oh, sorry." Simaree pulled the girl to her feet, only just realizing that the Healer Trainee was barefoot and not female. The kid in front of her, though he had the longest hair she'd ever seen on a male, was assuredly a boy. "Are you okay?"

"Okay... Okay?" he repeated before smiling and waving a hand negligently. "I am not in pain. You are okay?"

The way he responded was a little weird. "Yes, I'm fine," she replied warily to the strange kid and then she remembered what the Dean had told her. "Oh, you're Duo! We've been looking for you."

Duo cut off a curse and reminded himself not to make a run for it. The Orderly Brigade had finally caught up to him, but if he was going to pass himself off as a harmless kid then he had to act the part. He raised his hands slowly, taking the opportunity to study his captor. The girl was around sixteen with walnut brown eyes and honey-colored, shoulder-length hair that was pulled back into a tail. She was dressed in a uniform identical to the ones Anndreth and Ayden wore, except that hers was in a shade of light gray. If it hadn't been for a slightly upturned nose and the look of absolute victory, she might have been cute.

"I am sorry," he began trying to sound docile. "I want to walk. No more sleeping. Um..." What was the word for "bored?"

"Oh!" The look of victory was somehow replaced by both sympathy and good humor. She took a step back, folding her arms behind her back. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble. I'm a Herald Trainee, same as you. My name's Simaree."

The girl talked too fast and her strange accent made most of her words unintelligible. "Sorry, I do not understand. Please, again, slower?"

"I said, don't worry, you're not in trouble," she began again, enunciating more clearly but shouting as if he were hard of hearing. "I'm Herald Trainee Simaree! Pleased to meet you!"

"I am Duo Maxwell, Herald Trainee Simaree," he yelled back. "I do not understand Valdemaren very well, but I can hear you!"

"Oh!" Her cheeks grew pink. "I'm sorry."

"Do not worry. We start again. Duo Maxwell." He held out a hand.

She stared suspiciously at the hand.

"Your hand, please?"

"Why?"

"Greeting. It is hand— um..." Stupid vocabulary. "Please, give me your hand. I promise I do not bite."

That seemed to calm her apprehension and she thrust out her left hand. Duo held back a smile and pointed to her right. "Other hand." She complied and he grasped it in a firm shake.

"I do not know word. We call it a 'handshake.' It is used for meeting someone."

"Handshake," Simaree repeated. "It's a nice greeting."

Duo was about to agree, but there was a cry from the front of the building. "Simaree! Wait up! I'll come with you!"

"Over here, Alaen!" the girl shouted before addressing Duo again. "That would be why we were looking for you. My friend's been worried about you ever since you were found."

A platinum-haired, pale-skinned boy popped out from the side of the building at a fast jog. He anchored himself on Simaree's sleeve before looking up and catching sight of Duo. His silver eyes bulged and his jaw went slack.

Simaree missed the kid's surprise and began her introduction. "Alaen, this is Du—"

"Shinigami." Duo's shock at hearing his own name drop from the lips of the strange colorless boy was short-lived as the kid's surprise turned to abject terror. The boy shoved Simaree behind himself. "Run, Simaree! That's him! That's Shinigami!"

Simaree grabbed the kid's shoulders, forcing him to look at her. "Alaen, what are you talking about? He's just a kid. He's not Death."

Alaen squirmed free and then lodged himself between his friend and his enemy, pinning Duo with a glare. "He's Shinigami! Go! Please hurry!"

"Alaen?" the girl pleaded again.

Duo made no move to approach the terrified boy. Unhurried, he spread his hands in an attempt to appear harmless. "I am Shinigami," he admitted. "Where did you learn this?"

Now, two sets of eyes held Duo in place. "You can't be, Duo. You don't know what it means. Alaen's just confused."

"I'm not confused and I'm not stupid! That's him!" The boy was shaking in fear and anger.

Duo didn't like this one bit. He'd never uttered that name the entire time he'd been here, but these two had said both Shinigami and Death. How had they known? "Where I come from, Shinigami is the king of Death. My name is Duo Maxwell but my name is Shinigami also. How did you learn this?"

At this confession, Alaen's trembling ceased. "Please, just go, Simaree," he whispered in a strangely calm tone. He stretched his hands, allowing each finger full extension and then pulling them back into hard fists. One of those fists lashed out.

Duo caught the fist, yanking the offending arm around and pinning it against the boy's back. He hooked a foot around his attacker's ankle and sent the boy to the ground, mindful that he didn't break the kid's arm or injure him too badly in the fall. Now that kid was immobile, Duo tried again. "Why do you hit me?"

"Please," begged Alaen, past a deluge of tears. "Please, don't kill us. We can't stop you, but please."

"Kill you?" Duo had never learned the term, but with the word context around it and the air of hopeless defeat surrounding the boy, Duo was pretty damn sure he knew what "kill" meant. What in God's name was going on? "Why would I? I do not want to kill you."

"But you will. It's what you do. I've Seen it."