Crossover With Non-anime Series Fan Fiction / Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ On a Pale Horse ❯ History 101: The Founding ( Chapter 9 )

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.

Chapter Specific A/N: To all you Misty Lackey fans out there, sorry about making you slog through the story of the Founding, yet again. I was going to abbreviate it but then I realized that it needed to be in there for the people reading this who haven't read any of the Herald books. I swear I shall make it as painless as possible and if I have gotten any of it wrong (I have three copies but at this time I can't find "Arrows of the Queen" to cross-reference) just let me know and I'll fix it.

On A Pale Horse
-History 101: The Founding-

The tea Dr. Learen prescribed, though bitter and left a nasty aftertaste, wasn't nearly as bad as Duo had anticipated. On the other hand it didn't do a damn thing to soothe the searing migraine. Not that Duo expected it would. A major part of G's conditioning regimen involved exposure to non-lethal doses of poisons, chemicals and drugs in order to build up Duo's tolerance. It wasn't likely that a drug derived (probably) solely from a plant or two would do anything at all to dull Duo's nerves. His only alternative was to attempt a nap in his newly appointed bedroom. As he had ascertained that the situation at the moment was mostly stable, this alternative was acceptable.

He woke with a start to a knock on his door. He sat up, swung his feet to the floor and gingerly rubbed the sleeping goo out of his eyes with the butt of his hand. The headache was mostly gone. It was survived by what felt like a heavy bruising behind his eyes that ached if he closed his eyes too tightly or pressed on them, but aside from that he was in full working order. He crossed the distance to the door and grasped the handle, and pulled just as a second set of knocks died out.

Simaree stood framed by the doorway, arm just lowering from her knock and gaze fixed firmly eye-level, a look of stolid determination on her face. "Afternoo—" she began choking on the greeting, turning a glaring shade of red and then flipping around so fast she sent her ponytail lashing past Duo's nose. "Excuse me!" she choked out. "I'll uh... I'll come back later!"

Duo fought not to chuckle at her reaction, not that he had any clue as to why she was acting the way she was, but that look was hilarious. "Please, do not run." Simaree had gotten all of two steps before she halted. "Why do you come here?"

She replied though she refused to face him. "The Dean asked me to visit you. He said by talking with you, your Valdemaren would improve. He also asked me to go over a few things with you and answer any of your questions."

Well, that explained why she was here? "And you run away, why?"

"Uh..." By way of explanation she flicked a finger over her shoulder. "You're uh..."

"I am what?"

"Naked," she finished.

Duo was not familiar with the word. "I do not know 'naked'."

:Duo, what on Earth are you doing to Feyan's poor Chosen?: The inquiry came with a mental chuckle. :He says she's about to die of embarrassment and that if I could prevent my Chosen from killing his Chosen he'd be most grateful.:

:I have no idea.: He resisted shaking his head. :She's acting like I answered the door in my underwear.: He gave himself a quick once over. Yup. Pants were still on.

There was another mental chuckle, a slight pause and then a chortle. :Duo put on your shirt.:

:My shirt?: So, he was shirtless, big deal.

:It is a big deal, Flasher.: Onette still hadn't completely stopped laughing. :To her, you just answered the door butt-naked. Now, get dressed and find out what the poor thing needs.:

:Yes, ma'am,: Duo responded, already nabbing the discarded shirt from a nearby chair and slipping it over his head.

"Naked." Despite her embarrassment, the girl was attempting to clarify. "It means 'without clothes'."

"Yes, yes," Duo dismissed. "Onette told me. I am sorry. It is safe to look, now."

The girl turned slowly around, eyes clenched tight, before just barely squeaking one eyelid open.

Duo didn't wait for her to deem his attire appropriate; with a grand sweep of an arm and a low bow he invited, "Please come in."

Her eyes slid warily open. She eyed him nervously and then slipped into the room, dropping down into the chair Duo indicated.

Duo scraped an empty chair across the expanse of wood flooring, plopped onto his bed and propped his feet up on the chair. "What did Dean Ayden ask you to go over with me?"

Simaree smoothed her hair back and then clasped her hands, resting them on her knees. "He asked me to give you a little History lesson. It should give you a better understanding of Valdemar, the Companions and Heralds."

"This is one I do not know... Heralds?" And he didn't, though he'd heard the word often enough since waking up.

But his curiosity was not to be satiated. "It's easier to understand if you let me tell it from the beginning." Duo gave her a hand sign to continue. "It began about thirteen hundred years ago, in a kingdom far to the east. A very powerful, very selfish, and very cruel monarch ruled this kingdom. One of his Barons—Valdemar—was a kindly mage who cared deeply for his people. He soon became fed up of the mistreatment of his people and decided to take any of his people willing to follow as far west as their feet could carry them. They traveled for years and eventually stopped here to establish a new kingdom.

"By the time Valdemar was a smoothly running kingdom, King Valdemar was a graying old man. He had faith in the decency of his son and he could trust him to maintain the peace and prosperity of the kingdom he'd created. What he couldn't guarantee was that his son's son or his son thereafter would rule in kindness. So, one Midsummer's Eve, he cast a spell and called out to every god and goddess, every deity he had a name for and then for the ones that he didn't, anyone that was willing to listen to his plea. He called out and asked for a way to keep his kingdom free of a heartless ruler. The spell was completed the next morning at dawn. The call was answered in the form of three equine figures that emerged from a grove of pine trees in the center of what we now call Companion's Field. The three 'horses' were the first of the Companions. The first bonded with King Valdemar, the second with his son, the heir and the third with his Herald."

Duo took a moment to ponder the "bonding" Simaree spoke of. The memory of falling into sapphire eyes returned to him, that feeling of love and acceptance surrounded him once again and he ceased wondering what the girl had meant about bonding. But there was still something about her story that didn't seem right. "The Companions force us to be nice?"

She cocked her head to the side for a second before responding. "No, that's not right. The Companions have the ability to see into a person's soul and measure it. They Choose those who are innately good and who have the needed skills to protect this country."

Now, he really didn't like it. First of all, there wasn't a thing "innately good" about him. "Innately" he was a terrorist who accepted orders to steal, destroy and assassinate and if anyone saw him—innocent or not—he'd eliminate them. Second, Onette had Chosen him to protect her country without so much as a "Would you please?" Back home, he accepted his fate, his fight. He'd even reluctantly admit that he'd enjoyed it. He had a reason. He had a goal. He had a purpose. But here, nothing had anything to do with him. This wasn't his fight. This wasn't his purpose. This wasn't his goal.

And he'd been tricked. He'd been suckered into believing all that crap about acceptance and love! Only now did he discover the true reason he'd been Chosen; Onette wanted a soldier. A destroyer. She Chose him because he was Death.

As soon as the thought escaped his head, Onette was there, reassuring him. :That's wrong, Duo. I didn't Choose you to fight my war.:

He protested, frowning and crossing his arms in an adolescent tantrum. :Not, according to the history.:

"I'm sorry. Did I speak to fast? I can start over if you like."

Duo blinked, focusing on the concerned expression of the girl before him. He'd forgotten she was there. Nice, Maxwell. Way to watch your back. He shook his head and held up a finger. "One minute."

Simaree took the statement for a request and nodded silently.

:I told you before,: Onette began reasonably, :I've waited eons for you.: She paused giving the thought a moment to sink in. :I didn't Choose you to force you to protect 'my' country. If you don't want to be a Herald just tell the Dean 'no.' I Chose you so that I could protect you and that's not a duty that I'm about to give up on now, Idiot.:

Well, if that line didn't deflate him nothing would and for no apparent reason that "Idiot" tagged on at the end had him smiling, his angst-ridden tirade half-forgotten. He supposed that it was just the familiarity of the insult. :Nobody, protects Death.: "I'm invincible," he mumbled.

To be continued...