Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Hokkyokusei: The North Star ❯ Revelations ( Chapter 3 )

Revelations

The next morning Trowa was tending the circus animals, thinking. His thoughts inevitably wandered onto the only two problems in his life at the moment.

Cathy and Cala.

Just what was the matter with Cathy? She kept asking him if there was anything the matter. What could possibly be wrong? It was her wedding date that drew closer by the second, not his. After a moment's consideration, he figured that Cathy was probably shifting all her anxiety and worry onto him. He frowned. As long as they didn't kill each other in the process, he supposed that it was harmless enough.

But it was still annoying the hell out of him.

And, to add to it all, Cala had disappeared again.

They were moving on soon, in a week or so. Cathy had specifically told Cala at breakfast. She'd reacted pretty unhappily when she'd learned where the troupe was stopping first after the Earth route. Then she'd left, without telling anyone about where she was going. He'd assumed that she was tending Blizzard, but that couldn't possibly take over half an hour and she'd been gone for over two hours. I'd better go look for her, he thought grimly. Or else she'll be late for the show again. And I definitely do not feel like dealing with an angry manager again.

Trowa sighed and stretched. He glanced around and wondered where he should start. A faint whinny to Trowa's left alerted him of Blizzard's location. Following his instincts he proceeded to find the horse, walking carefully through the trees and bushes behind the camp. If he found the horse he might just find the horse's mistress. Stepping into a clearing, he caught sight of Blizzard grazing lazily in the middle of it. The white stallion inclined his head to glance at Trowa and gave him a cool, indifferent look. Then returned to grazing.

He couldn't resist a quick smirk at the horse's bored reaction before skimming his gaze around the clearing. Blizzard's mysterious mistress lay on her stomach nearby amid a clutter of scattered electronics and discarded wires. To his surprise, she was talking into a portable communication unit. The caller's face was fuzzy with static from the nearby trees and Trowa quickly ducked behind a tall maple, to stay out of sight. And happened to overhear part of the conversation…

"You should've warned us beforehand, Cala. This mission is so dangerous, I don't want you to get yourself hurt or-" an unfamiliar, distressed voice came through the static jammed connection, making Trowa's bottle green eyes narrow suspiciously.

"Oh, Cemal. I'll be just fine. You worry too much. Azim knows all about my mission and he knows I'll be safe. I am perfectly capable of protecting myself. And I don't have to explain anything to you," she said, her voice patient as though she had explained this several times.

"I don't worry too much. I'm just concerned over your welfare. And why can you explain this to Azim and not me?" the unfamiliar male voice said, sounding sulky.

"Because Azim and I have been through a lot together. He's always protected me, as I've always protected him. Don't start with the possessive bit again, Cemal. You don't own me. Azim doesn't own me. No one owns me. I can do as I like and I shouldn't have to explain it to anyone, unless I choose to," she replied sharply, her voice was full of rebuke and rebellion.

"I know that, Cala. I'm sorry about implying that I own you. I know I don't. I'm just so worried that you'll get hurt." The stranger's voice was apologetic and just a little hurt.

"It's all right. But you need to stop calling me, there's a chance that someone will hear and figure something out. You know the routine, I'll contact you, if I need to. My mission won't take longer than a couple months or so. I'll return to HQ every now and then to check up on everything, but I'll usually ask you, Azim or Sachs to meet up with me somewhere else and report updates," she said earnestly. "Don't worry, so much. You're developing new wrinkles in your face, already," she added teasingly. "And tell Azim not to go too crazy. Over and out." He heard the deliberate click of a switch as Cala terminated the connection.

The grass in the clearing swished softly as Cala stood up and walked over to her horse. Blizzard neighed softly, reassuringly. Trowa clearly heard Cala heave an irritated sigh.

"Will he ever give it up, Blizz?"

The horse snorted disbelievingly in reply.

"You're right. No chance in hell. Damn the obstinacy in that man." Trowa could hear the smile in her voice.

A deep frown formed, unknowingly, on his face. He pulled away from the oak tree and strode swiftly away from the clearing. His foot snapped a twig as he strode away, but he didn't notice. The unnatural sound, however, caught Cala's attention and she turned toward the source.

"Who's there? Come out, whoever you are!" she called after Trowa's distant form. She waited a moment, completely still and shrugged, but she couldn't get rid of the uneasy feeling that was left. She glanced at the white stallion and stared, puzzled, at him. His whisky brown eyes stared back at her smugly. She lifted an eyebrow, querying, but it was obvious that she wouldn't get a satisfactory answer and left off her confusion.

~*~*~

Trowa heard Cala call something in the distance, but he didn't bother to stop and listen. Walking away from the situation seemed to be the only way to sort the jumble of thought that were racing through his head. The emotions that he had suppressed long ago were thrashing in his soul, refusing to be locked out forever, yet it would take more than that to shake Trowa Barton.

He shook his head violently to clear the whirling feelings and thoughts.

Pausing by a large tree, close to the circus tents, he rested his hand against the solid wood. In one smooth, efficient motion he sprang up into the tree. Landing on a thick branch, he plopped down and sighed gustily. He laid his head on the thick trunk, his smooth light oak-colored hair blending in perfectly against the rough bark.

The tumble of ideas and thoughts slowed, remarkably, and he could finally identify what he was feeling and thinking.

Just what is Cala up to? What did she mean: 'mission'? Is she a spy for some type of a conspiracy or coup de' tat? A ridiculous voice in his head asked suspiciously.

Against who? replied the voice of reason. There's no one in real position of power these days. What would be the point? I don't feel any hidden motives.

And… she seems so innocent.

Of course, she seems innocent, Trowa. She looks like a teenager! Yet she's almost as old as you are. For all you know, she could be plotting to kill you and Cathy, both! She's a complete stranger. You shouldn't trust her.

But I do. How is that? I don't even know her and I trust her. Why?

Because there's something so familiar about her. Like you've met her before, and just not realized it. The type aura and power that she carries about her. Just the underlying strength that she generates. A comforting sort of strength, like a sense of security. So indomitable, impenetrable, so… different from any other women that you've ever met.

How odd.

He was so deep in his thought that he didn't notice his sister's approach. Catherine's soft vivid violet eyes stared curiously at the young man sitting comfortably on the sturdy tree branch. His dark emerald hued eyes staring into the only-slightly-cloudy sky. His dirt-brown hair concealing his left eye, as usual. He was in such a relaxed state, with one of his legs lazily hanging down from the branch and his hands folded behind his head, that Catherine was reluctant to disturb his reverie.

"Knock, knock. Is anyone home?" she called softly. Trowa was forcefully kicked out of his daydreaming. Startled, he almost fell off the branch, but threw out his hands, balancing himself in the nick of time.

"Hn. It's only you. You almost knocked me right off the tree branch," Trowa said grumpily, clutching the branch with both hands to steady himself. Catherine chuckled mischievously.

"Well, dear brother, you should pay more attention to your surroundings. What're you up to? Shouldn't you be practicing for the show, not tree climbing?" she asked guilelessly, curving her mouth into a nocuous smile.

"And you're practicing so hard, Cathy," he retorted, snorting dubiously and throwing a stray acorn at his sister. She ducked agilely and stuck her tongue out at him.

"At least get out of that tree. I already have to look up at you, but you're not usually this tall." Catherine smiled and smoothed a hand over the rough bark of the tree.

"I think I'll stay up here for a while." He lifted his head and gazed through the branches of the tree. The lucent sunlight twinkled through the gaps in the green leaves. The veins in the leaves were illuminated and the feeling that the sight left in him was peaceful and calm. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, laying his head against the trunk of the tree again.

Catherine watched as her brother visibly relaxed. Only the slightest of creases formed on her forehead. She was worried about him. He didn't usually do that sort of thing, daydreaming in the middle of the day. Almost all of his recent actions were odd, out of place, out of character. When a newcomer came, Trowa would stay his silent self and greet him or her in his own unique way. But with Cala's sudden appearance, his usual routine had changed immensely. He seemed so distracted, and the root of the problem was apparently Cala. She just couldn't understand why Cala had such a dramatic effect on Trowa. Catherine was also unsure as to whether she liked the change or not.

When Trowa didn't give her any more of a response, Catherine left him sitting pensively in the tree. He obviously wanted to be left alone for a while and she decided to oblige him.

As she walked away from Trowa, a tear slid down her pale cheek and onto the ground.

Catherine quickly brushed her tearstained cheek with the back of her hand and hurried away. Unconsciously, her hands clenched into fists and she took a few deep breaths to calm herself down. Pausing, she felt a sudden slight pain in the palms of her hands. She gasped in surprise and lifted her hands from her sides. Unfurling her fingers from their tight balls Catherine saw that there were four small cuts in each callused palm from where her smooth fingernails had pierced them.

Hot, sticky, red blood swelled from the cut, and she quickly closed her fingers over her palms again. Catherine gulped and took another steadying breath. She shut her eyes and then opened them again.

"What am I doing?" she asked herself softly, shaking her head, "I'm going crazy. Calm down, Catherine."

"Yes, I really think you should, Cathy," replied a familiar voice from the tree line. Catherine whirled around and her hands went to her throat in a defensive stance. Light glinting off of his golden crown of hair and his eyes worried, Quatre stood a few feet ahead of her. She had not noticed his approach and heaved a sigh with relief.

"Quatre! You startled me. What are you doing here?" she exclaimed as she quickly lowered her hands. Quatre approached her, cautiously as one would to a frightened animal.

"I was worried about you. You sounded so upset last night that I decided to come see if you were all right." He laid one hand on her shoulder and the other on the top of her head. Lifting her chin to stare into his sky blue eyes, she could feel herself falling more profoundly in love with the man whom she had already pledged her heart and life to.

"Oh, Quatre. You really shouldn't have. I know you're very busy with the merging of your company and everything. Taking this much time away for me is… I just don't know what to say." Her eyes sparkled with happiness and a depth of love that secretly terrified her.

Quatre slid his hand down her head, smoothing her ruffled burnished copper-colored curls in a loving gesture. "Cathy, I love you. That's worth it to drop anything if you're in danger or hurt."

"But I'm not in danger. And I'm not hurt. I'm just fine. I can take care of myself, but thank you so much for caring." Playfully, she framed her hands around his face, flinching only once at the dull pain that shot through her palms. Noticing, Quatre frowned and gently lifted her hands from his face, turning them palm-upward to inspect them.

"What happened?" asked Quatre in a troubled voice, as he smoothed his thumbs over her work-roughed fingers.

"Oh, I'm fine, Quatre. It's just a couple cuts," she said, swallowing nervously. She licked her dry lips and drew a shuddering breath as he lifted her hands to his face. Gently, he pressed his mouth lightly against the two callused and chapped palms.

Her hands defined her. Her willingness to work for her goals and her emotional and physical strength. His thumb traced the lines on the pale tapering fingers lovingly. They were fit enough for a queen to him. The two hands could fit anywhere. On a ballet floor, the long, beautiful fingers curving above the russet curls or grasping the ropes of a trapeze swing, almost on top of the world.

"All right. I won't force you to tell me, Cathy," he consented almost sadly and loosened his grip on her. She gently slid her hands out of his and tucked them into her pockets.

An amazing amount of guilt welled up inside of her, but she told herself that Quatre would never be able to understand Trowa's and her relationship. Although he had many, many sisters, he was the youngest of all of them and the only male heir to an empire of wealth and industry. He had always been given whatever he wanted, whatever whim, need, and desire. He had never suffered the types of typical and unusual grievances that she had endured. He had not been dubbed worthless and an orphan when he was young, never had to harden his heart to the sufferings of others to survive. Both of which she had been submitted through. Of course, Trowa had come along and helped her through it all.

That Quatre also did not have.

Although he had close bonds to his sisters, he would never share the closeness that Trowa and she had shared. The small inside jokes and funny, embarrassing stories about each other. Even those little 'family' arguments that the troupe manager sometimes participated in. Everything that people with siblings can brag about in later years and groan about in present ones. Quatre's family had special moments, Catherine was sure, but never anything like the water gun fights that she put Trowa through when the heat simmered outside. Those little, seemingly unimportant times, that warms a person's heart up at the memory and brightens a glum face.

Things that she was sure that Quatre couldn't possibly ever have.

Quatre's family was too successful and dignified to do that sort of juvenile thing. Even if they had time to do so. Each sister had built her own legacy and was just as successful as Quatre in her own way, therefore taking up much of her free time to spend with her family.

When she realized she was staring into Quatre's eyes with a peculiar mix of regret and nostalgic contentment expression on her face she abruptly broke off eye contact and blushed scarlet. The light baritone chuckling of Quatre made her smile and her blush deepened. Quatre bent over her embarrassed face and kissed the soft, pink cheek.

"That was for smiling. I love your smile. You should smile more often," he whispered in her ear and pulled back again. "Well, I've rearranged my schedule to spend the day with you. I'll even be here to watch your evening performance. I want to see this replacement of yours. I highly doubt that this girl will be able to live up to the 'famous Catherine Bloom' reputation, but it ought to be interesting to watch," he said, an amused twinkle in his eyes.

"I think she's outdone my reputation, Quatre, dear. Plus, I'm all washed up. She'll be taking over soon, thank goodness. I need to start arranging the wedding, along with those 'wedding coordinators' of yours. I won't be able to perform at the same time arrange our wedding. It's too much!" she exclaimed jubilantly, obviously pleased that her she could spend the rest of the sunny, clear day with her one true love.

"Ah, since we're getting onto the subject. We need to go ring hunting soon, copper-curls Cathy," he said, tugging a curly strand of her hair. She blinked, astounded at his word.

"But I don't need a ring, you said that we were going to use your parent's wedding rings for ours. What do I need another one for?"

"I want to give you two rings, one engagement ring and one wedding ring. It's proper, isn't it? Something old and something new, something borrowed and something blue. I heard that somewhere," he said, grinning at her confusion and with absolute delight at having made her happy. "My parent's wedding rings will be something old, they are really heirlooms given down in each generation to the eldest son. We can find the other something's later." Quatre seemed utterly delighted by this old wedding ritual, causing Catherine to crack a smile. Then, it hit her: she was going shopping…

"Oh, I forgot all about that! Well, if we're going to leave, we'd better leave now! Shopping needs to start early, this will take all day," she said, her eyes brightening immensely as she grabbed his hand and started pulling him toward the circus grounds.

"You mean that we have to go shopping now?! I didn't think that-" said Quatre, stunned. "I thought we were just going to spend the day together!"

"We are spending the day together and ring shopping," she said excitedly.

"But… but…" he trailed off helplessly as his beloved fiancée dragged him towards his shiny, siren-red Porsche convertible.

"Oh, and Quatre? You don't mind if I drive, right? I've always wanted to," she added as an afterthought, depositing him in front of the car and turning her pleading eyes towards him. A low laugh burst out from behind the couple and they both whirled around, startled.

Trowa stood there, his arms crossed and an unfamiliar twinkle in his emerald eyes. He seemed to be trying very hard to suppress any more spontaneous laughter, but it was turning him a tinge pink. He'd been watching them the whole entire time, his sister's shrieks of delight catching his attention and bringing him there. He'd seen Catherine pulling Quatre and her steady stream of excited babbling.

"As properly behaved as the princess you're treated as, I see, Cathy. Quatre, I think it's more of Cathy reigning over you when you treat her like that. More of her demanding to be treated like the spoiled brat that she is," he said teasingly, a hint of a grin twitching the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, like you have a Porsche that you can just lend to me every day, Trowa," she retorted, sticking her tongue out at him. "And I don't lord over Quatre." She wagged her free hand behind her ear and stuck her tongue out again in an immature taunting gesture. Trowa strode over to her and pinched her nose in response.

"Sure, maybe if you keep telling yourself that it can come true. Here," he said, handing over a folded pink flyer from out of his jeans pocket. "It might be a good way to spend the rest of the day together, I'm sure that was your plan, anyway."

Catherine unfolded the paper and read in big bold letters:

Carnival!

Lots of FUN for families

And Kids of All Ages!

Goldfish scooping,

Ring tossing,

Fun Rides,

And Lots more!

Only in town

For ONE month!

"Hey! That's a great idea! I say we go," said Quatre eagerly, obviously dying for an excuse to get away from the tedious task of ring shopping and to spend some quality time with his fiancée. He was thanking every one of his lucky stars for having such a perceptive best friend and soon to be brother-in-law. They both knew that if Catherine was allowed free reign in ring culling, not only would she take forever, but she would also become so caught up in the spirit of things that she would most likely forget all about Quatre. And Quatre had something important to talk to her about…

"That's really not a bad idea. We'll go ring shopping another time I suppose," agreed Catherine, just slightly crestfallen.

"Sis, there's always going to be other times to go ring shopping. It's a little late to start, too," said Trowa, taking Quatre's hints of reluctance into mind. "I'm sure he'll be much happier spending some quality time with you."

"Okay, you're right, as usual," she said smiling and brightening at Trowa's usual unarguable logic, "But I'm still going to drive."

"I guess I can't win every battle. All right, all right. You can drive. Just as long as I don't end up in the hospital," Quatre said, grinning resignedly.

"Ah! I take that as an insult. I'll show you, you little-" she said in mock outrage and pinched his cheeks hard.

"Ouch! I hardly think that that was necessary," he said indignantly, rubbing his reddened cheeks.

"Enough flirting already. Get on your way," said Trowa, shooing his hands and pushing them gently towards the Porsche. "Have a good time, you two. And don't stay out too late, I don't like waiting up too long."

"But what about the performance, Trowa? I have to come back for that," said Catherine, confused. The wind flapped at the flyer in her fist and blew her hair back.

"Cala will take over. She is your replacement. I thought that the Manager told you already. You don't have to be here always. Maybe a couple evening shows but definitely none of the afternoon ones. You're free to enjoy the whole day with your fiancé," he said warmly, though Catherine couldn't tell what her younger brother was truly feeling. Quatre's reaction, however, was very enthusiastic.

"Great! That means we can go straight from the carnival to dinner. Don't worry, Cathy. It's not formal, but I have something important I want to talk to you about," he said, guiding her to the car and depositing the key in her hand. "You can start driving now. I'll see you later, Trowa," he threw back over his shoulder, along with silently mouthed thanks. Trowa gave them his mysterious smile and waved to the red car slowly backing out of the gravel parking area. Cathy was obviously enjoying herself immensely with the driving and a terrified look on Quatre's face gave his feelings away immediately.

Trowa hummed a nameless tune absently as he walked back to the main tent. He might as well dispense of his time in a useful way. After this performance they were moving on, on to yet another city along the Earth route that they normally took. However, the first stop that they were going to make in space, after the Earth route (a couple months from now), was altogether too familiar. It was the L2 colony, where Duo and Hilde lived with their two children, Maxi and Mathilde. He hadn't seen them in a while and he would really enjoy seeing them again.

It was wonderful to see Cathy and Quatre so happy together. Cathy was already getting on Quatre's case about ring shopping. That was the sign that she really loved him. She wouldn't bother anyone like that unless she really cared about him/her. The only person that Trowa actually knew for a fact that Cathy did it to was he, himself. And no man on Earth or in space would be able to take that kind of aggravation (the famous Catherine Bloom's stubbornness taken into mind) unless they really loved her, which showed Quatre's true feelings for Trowa's dear sister. They were really in love.

That fact made him happy and sad at the same time. Happy that Quatre had realized what was in his heart. Sad that his big sister was really going to be gone. But it was life and he would have to get over it. He was sure going to miss Cathy's presence, though.

Cathy's relationship with him was unique. But somehow, now… he just wasn't as disturbed at the thought of being without her anymore. Well, not as he used to be. He couldn't understand why, though.