Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ the Spirit of War and Peace ❯ the Spirit of War and Peace ( One-Shot )

Disclaimer: Roses are red. Violets are dull. G Wing isn't mine. My profits are null.

Author's Notes: I always wondered... what did happen to that dress?! God only knows it didn't disappear into the depths of Dorothy's closet!

Italics = flashback. all dialogue in flashbacks is taken verbatim from the series.

Warnings: Language. Relena POV. Possibly OOC, depending on your perspective.

the Spirits of War and Peace

I'm sitting in the room they've given me, my hands folded neatly in my lap. The room is luxurious, but far from what I would have chosen if given a choice. My chair is placed next to a window with a stunning view, but my mind is otherwise occupied. I have much heavier thoughts to ponder. I am far from happy. Earth is just starting to head towards peace. What is Brother thinking? I feel my face contort with anger. It would be so easy to end this. The sheer power I wield... No, whatever Brother is thinking, it's not right to fight. It is my duty to stop him.

Suddenly I hear a strange noise coming from down the hall, interrupting my thoughts. I am curious; it's the middle of the night. No one should be awake. Determinedly not thinking about assassins or kidnappers, I arise and leave my room, intending to go discover the noise's origin. I creep down the hall, winding up in a large dining room. As best as I can tell, this is where the sound had last been.

I burned it. I ripped that prissy, long-skirted, pain-in-the-ass, good-for-nothing, goddamn, piece-of-shit dress off and shoved it in the fireplace. I grabbed the heavy poker and shoved the garment deep into the heart of the flames, ramming it between the crackling logs. I stood there in my underwear, rubies dripping from my frame, their bloody depths reflecting the fire's frolicking dance, and watched. I smiled as the ruffled tiers were consumed by the flames, my hair still torturously contorted under that garish crown. As I inhaled the scent of burning silk, I stood witness as the white dress turned black. In no time at all, it turned to ash.

It only took a few seconds to kick the toe-pinching high heels across the room. They thudded against the floor with satisfying twin thwaps. I inwardly chuckled as I began to pull off the clinging pantyhose. The nylon shredded as my fingernails clawed it to pieces, peeling it from my legs as if I were removing a second skin. I left the tatters in a mangled mess atop the priceless carpet, a flesh-toned splotch amidst brilliant reds and browns. I left it there for them to deal with.

"Is anybody here?" I call, a second before I see him standing by the huge windows. "Oh," I gasp.

The figure turns slightly to face me. "Pleasure to see you again, Relena."

"Treize Khushrenada! What are you doing here?" I'm startled, confused, and utterly glad there's a heavy table and a dozen chairs between him and I.

I'll be damned if I didn't still feel like that skirt was clinging to my legs. I could still feel it clutching at my calves, wrapping itself around my ankles, its tiers of ruffles and layers of lace entwining themselves around me until I could barely shuffle forward. I could swear it was still wrapped firmly around my shoulders, pinching my arms to my sides, forcing stillness in the place of my normal gesticulations. I didn't feel as though I had burnt it at all. It was suffocating me even as I stood there. It was as if it had gained a life of its own.

The pale white dress, with nobody in it. [1]

Treize smiles a wolf's grin. He knows he's disconcerted me with his midnight appearance. He knows how uncomfortable he's made me. "I thought I'd give you the counsel's decision."

"The counsel's decision?" I repeat stupidly, not understanding what he's talking about. What did that have to do with his presence here?

He meets my eyes, all hint of teasing gone from his voice. "As of now, I will release you from the position of the foundation's representative. You must resign from being queen."

Trying to shake off the feeling of being watched, I padded barefoot across the room. Though reason denied it fervently, it seemed the dress came right along with me, whispering in my wake. I did my best to ignore it. With shaking hands, I reclaimed my habitual clothes from the bottom drawer of an armoire. I drew my soft sweater around my shoulders and hastened to fasten the buttons. I pulled my purple miniskirt up around my hips and yanked my thick socks over my feet. I jammed my feet into my scuffed brown loafers, the worn-in leather conforming perfectly.

The dress watched as I changed, a non-so-silent witness to my transformation. I could swear I heard it laughing. Its silken folds rustled as it danced a gleeful jig on the Persian carpet. I shot the fireplace an angry glare. It seems I am incapable of killing even an inanimate object.

I was well on my way out of the room when I caught a glimpse of myself in one of the many mirrors. I now wore my casual clothes, yet rubies were still dribbling from my ears. A tiara still sat upon my head. A gold necklace still glistened from where it fell against my sweater.

The dress was closer than ever. I could feel it brushing against my skin. The back of my neck prickled as I fought the urge to spin around. I wanted to see for myself that the dress wasn't there, yet wouldn't allow myself the indignity. Relena Darlian needed no proof that ghosts weren't real.

I am silent for a long moment, mulling the idea over in my mind. Does this mean...? "Very well. I will return the authority of the foundation." I am certainly not going to fight to keep a position I never wanted to begin with. Yet with the title comes such power... "But before that I have something to do. I must persuade my brother, Milliardo, to stop this war on earth."

"You cannot do that." It seems I've finally managed to surprise Treize. That wasn't what he was expecting me to say.

"What do you mean?" Didn't he want to stop the war? Wasn't he a pacifist as well?

Slowly, I reached up and unfastened the earrings one by one. I unscrewed [2] their backs and laid them carefully down on a nearby table. I undid the clasp on the necklace and lifted it gently from where it lay on across my chest. It joined the earrings on the table. They lay there, looking forlorn and rejected. They no longer caught the fire's glow. They looked... dead.

The dress was no longer laughing. Its grasp was no longer teasing. I could feel it pulling at me, enticing me to stay. It would be lonely if I left it. It would be alone...

The crown resisted when I tried to pull it off. My hair was wrapped so firmly around it, it was as if the golden ring were a part of my being. It thwarted all cursory attempts at its removal. In order to extricate it, I was forced to first let down my hair. As I pulled each stabbing bobby pin from its place, locks of hair slowly tumbled down around my shoulders.

With each pin I removed, the dress became more and more desperate. It left off tugging at my arms and began flitting its way around the room. I could hear it as I worked, skimming delicately over the parquet floor, its lacy hem surely becoming gray and tattered. I could hear it as it started to fray.

But Treize doesn't answer me. He simply turns to the windows before him, undoing their latch. As he opens the towering panes wide, letting the night air fill the room, he speaks. "It is a sin to keep you trapped you trapped in this old cage called Romefeller. Therefore I will become the representative. I will settle this. You are free to go wherever you wish."

The wistful note in his voice didn't escape my notice. Slowly, I turn and leave the room.

It took time, it did, to remove that golden crown. My arms went numb from being constantly lifted above my head. Every time I thought I was through, I would find yet another pin. Yet another tangled hank of hair. Yet another knot to unravel. As I struggled with the task, starting into my eyes in the wide mirror, I let my fingers guide themselves. I trusted my hands to know the way to freedom.

At last, it was done. The last pin was removed. The crown fell to the floor of its own accord. It hit the wooden surface with a dull clank and bounced a few times before spinning to a halt. I made no move to pick it up.

Behind me, the dress fell silent.

My hair fell around my face in its usual limp, stick-straight mass. I stared at myself in the mirror as I rubbed the feeling back into my arms. Slowly, I started braiding narrow strips of hair into braids, fastening them together in a knot at the back of my head. I steeled myself for what I knew I must do. As soon as my hair was back in its customary circlet, I left the room. I never looked back.

The pale white dress didn't follow.

-Fin-

Footnotes

[1] reference to Dr. Seuss' "the Pale Green Pants With Nobody in Them."

[2] On really expensive earrings, the backs screw on. This makes it more difficult for them to fall off. Not that I own really expensive earrings. I just work in a museum.

Zooie-Notes

This. Took. Forever. My mind spontaneously came up with the concept back in December, but then decided it was going to be selfish. It latched onto the idea with its grubby little hands and it took me until now to convince it to let go. *sigh* I think my mind is still in preschool. That would certainly explain the allusion to Dr. Seuss....