Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Stolen ❯ On the Altar of Peace ( Chapter 6 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Chapter six

Relena was just barely listening to the crisply-pressed waiter as he detailed the specials of the day. Somewhere she heard reference to salmon and decided that whatever it was, it would suffice. Lowering the menu to the table, she directed her eyes to the view from the wall of windows on her right. Unfortunately, though her gaze was directed towards a desirably quaint scene of curving road and tile-roofed buildings, she did not actually see anything, her mind being somewhere else.

She looked up, startled from her ruminations by the imperative use of her name.

"What? Oh, yes. I'll have the salmon. Thank you."

With that she handed the menu back to the waiter, plucked her napkin from its decoratively folded place before her, and methodically spread it on her lap. Having been trained from birth in all of the delicacies of elegant behavior, Relena automatically placed every item she came in contact with in exactly the proper position. She had a precise manner moderated by complete self-confidence and a fluidity of movement, which resulted in nothing short of grace.

Relena's grace was so natural that it often imbued everything and everyone around her with more dignity than they knew they were capable of, from the napkin in her lap, to the sighing waiter, to her already dignified date. The general effect of this contagion of refinement was to leave most people she met with the strange sensation of having briefly come in contact with a deity. To know her was not simply to love her, but to love yourself, your neighbor and their obnoxious pets as well. To be fair, Relena was completely unaware of her affect on people. She simply noted that people were usually much nobler at heart than they expected themselves to be. She didn't know her own causal relationship to that secret nobility.

After the waiter closed the door to their private dining room, Quatre cleared his throat to gain her attention. Relena raised her eyes and waited for the inevitable.

"Why do you want to get married Relena?"

Well, he was certainly direct.

"Because it's expected, I suppose."

It was a weak reply she knew, but she was unprepared for such an invasive line of questioning.

"Really Relena, after all we've experienced together I would expect a little more honesty from you. Aside from our strong professional relationship I'd like to think that you consider me a friend." With a dramatic pause, Quatre blessed her with one of his more soulful looks and gently took her hand in his. "You know you can trust me, Relena." Though she knew Quatre was subtly manipulating her, she still found herself swaying under his craft. She was almost ready to believe that this angelic politician that she'd spent the past three years dancing around true friendship with could be trusted with her complete honesty.

But complete honesty with Quatre would mean complete honesty with herself, and that was asking a little too much.

She delicately removed her hand from his and took a sip of water. "Quatre, I remember every death I've ever seen, including the Peacecraft family." This was not what she'd meant to say. She took another sip of water to cover her puzzlement. She'd never told anyone about that night, and now was certainly not the time to start. Better stay on track. "My only goal in life is to create a true and lasting peace, one which will never require another child to enter the battlefield, or another soldier to die for no reason. I want to make a world to be lived in, not fought over by people driven by fear. If marrying you will help accomplish that goal, then I could not possibly want a better husband." There, that ought to be plain enough.

"A better husband." Quatre sighed the words, staring wide-eyed at her. "Relena, I would give anything," he paused in thought, an obviously unpleasant one, "no, not anything." He stopped himself and a rueful look flickered through the edges of his mouth. "Who am I to lecture you. We've all made our sacrifices to the altar of peace. I just never thought I'd be called upon to light your pyre."

That truly shocked her. This was acid bitterness. This was naked bone jutting out of Quatre's skin. She hadn't seen him be this honest with her since the end of the Eve Wars. Maybe she was making a mistake. Maybe making a mockery of the societal convention of marriage was more painful for him than she'd ever imagined. Maybe he really did care about her. Maybe he really cared about Heero. Maybe he really was still kind inside.

"Quatre, I'm sorry. I..."

The waiter unfortunately chose that moment to re-enter with the wine. The wine should have alerted her. She should have realized as soon as he walked in the room, but her conversation with Quatre had muddled her usually attentive state. Neither of them had ordered wine. In fact, neither of them drank at all. Quatre must have realized it before her, but their attacker had already taken aim. One silent bullet through his chest was all it took to stop any attempted struggle. She stared in horror as the force of the bullet propelled the half-standing Quatre over the back of his chair, left leg still tangled over it.

Relena had just enough time to turn and recognize her attacker as the skinny red T-shirt from the student organizations she'd met with earlier before a needle was plunged into her arm and the world ceased to exist.