Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Truth ❯ Dance of Life ( Chapter 3 )

September 27th 202

"Stars," Relena decided. "That's what they remind me of."

Lighted candles, decorating the perimeter of the grand ballroom, flickered and swayed along with the music, while the large crystal chandelier loomed above from the center of the ceiling, sparkling. The heady aroma of wine and laughter wafted through the air, intoxicating all those who were present.

Looking down the staircase, Relena's chest swelled with pride at the sight below.

'Peace is wonderful.'

The crowd of dancers parted to give room for a couple that was about to perform a difficult waltz.

'It brings a feeling of calmness, and stability that nothing else could duplicate.'

Blond hair swept across the porcelain face of the female dancer who was spun by her stoic partner.

'Peace gives us the chance to breath.'

The tempo of the music increases and the dancers move with such grace and efficiency, many gasped while others nodded in appreciation.

'The chance to think…'

The woman was thrown in the air, completed three spins, and fell promptly in the young man's arms.

'… and fulfill our dreams.'

The pair moved with energy and what might be mistaken as love as each; step, twist, and touch looked sacred and cherished.

'It brings life and provides an atmosphere for it to duranate- survive and prosper.'

Regrettably, the music faded and the dancers ceased movement, still embracing. After a brief moment, a roar of applause resounded throughout the room, causing the pair to blush lightly. When the applauses came to an end and the music began for the other guest, was when Princess Relena Peacecraft decided to make her entrance.

'It's life- pure and simple. Something we often take for granted and should not live without.'

Declining the long case of the loosely spiraled steps with her right arm on the banister, the slight hum of the company below came to a halt when she came into view. Instead of the 16th century (AD) attire she wore in her teenage years, she was dressed in a straight white dress. Its collar covered three quarters of her pale neck and sleeveless sleeves. The dress was so long that it would have touched the floor had it not been for the three-inch gold high heel strap-in sandals. Her golden tresses flowed down her back, without any braids, and reached her midriff, framing her slight but womanly curved form. With her dress trimmed with gold stitching and the imperial crown of the Sank Kingdom upon her head, she looked like she just stepped out of a fairy tale. A herd of unmarried men congregated at the bottom of the stairs, impatiently waiting for her descent.

Belatedly, she remembered to smile, even through their sight made her ill with disgust. Aqua orbs searched desperately for a familiar face. Her once forced smile, when she saw her friend from her teenage years, became genuine.

He parted the gentlemen and bowed grandly before her. Relena performed a curtsy in return that would have had her mother proud, and accepted the arm he presented her.

Bringing her lips close to his ear, she whispered, "thanks, Quatre".

He blushed, but it went un-noticed due to the deep tan he received from his vacation in the Arabian Desert.

"It is my pleasure, Ms. Relena."

She looked up at him in amusement. No matter how many times she asked him- begged him, to call her just Relena; 'I don't want to be disrespectful,' was his defense.

Quatre led her further into the room towards a small group of familiar faces.

"Trowa, I never knew you could dance so well!" Relena said. "Dorothy is no surprise since she gave me lessons last spring." He was spared from commenting when a sudden out burst from Wufei caught their attention.

"Blast it!" he grumbled, arms crossed. "I feel like a fish out of water in this room full of penguins."

His date chuckled at his obvious discomfort. "Be careful, Wufei." Sally cooed, "You almost sounded poetic."

His scowl deepened when he realized they were laughing at his expense. "I knew inviting you wasn't a mistake," jested Relena, smiling.

"True," Dorothy drawled. "He's the life of the party."

"Women," he snorted. If it were possible, his frown deepened and Sally wondered if it was seriously going to affect his health.

"Speaking of which," Quatre turned to Relena. "May I have this dance?"

"It would be my pleasure." He took her hand and led her to the dancing area.

'Geez, these shoes are *killing* me. What possessed me to wear high-heels, especially when they are as thick as a wire! I should have brought extra footwear- like my combat boots or running shoes-'

"Woman! Are you paying any attention to what I just said?"

'Men,' Sally thought eyeing Wufei's sensible flat shoes with envy. 'They are so darn lucky'! "Hmm?" she smiled sweetly.

"That's it! I'm laying down the law-"

"Wufei! It's not the time."

Under Trowa's cold emerald eyes, Wufei unconsciously pouted and folded his arms over his chest in defeat.

"How are things going?" Trowa directed his question to the willowy blond.

Tucking a strand of her waist length hair behind an ear, "as expected," Dorothy replied.

"If you need anymore equipment-"

"Please woman, that goes without saying." Wufei interjected.

"Listen here you self-righteous-"

""If you'll excuse me…" Dorothy smiled and separated herself from the group.

"Tonight?"

Strong lean fingers grazed the item in his pocket that his mind had been on all night.

"Tonight," Trowa replied.

"Well it's about time," Sally exclaimed. "How long has it been, two years?"

"Two years and three months."

"He can count too."

"Shut up woman!"

"Bite me!"

Unnoticed, Trowa slipped out of their company to a secluded dark corner, relishing his solitude.

With each ground he covered his composure was deteriorating.

'She couldn't have left without me…'

His speed increased with his fear. Each room he inspected gave no clue to her presence and no knowledge of where she was. As a precaution, he produced a handgun that was strapped to his chest. His search brought him to the brown oak doors of Relena's bedroom. His nerves were wrecked and as he reached out his hand to turn the doorknob he could literally feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

Hesitating for only a moment, Trowa push his way in the room.

Stepping over the thresh hole, gun posed, he allowed his eyes to adjust to the dim light. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

Blood. It's wretched stench filled the room. The sound of the gun falling to the floor, from Trowa trembling hand, was muffled be the beige carpet. Slowly, Trowa made his way to the source of the smell and the throbbing in his chest.

Pale, lifeless, dead- Dorothy.

Kneeling beside the mangled body, he ignored the red liquid that embedded itself into the carpet giving it a mucky colouring. Lifting her head, which was twisted in an unusual fashion, and he placed it in his lap.

Drinking, dancing, and music continued below. The world moves on either ignoring or unaware of the passing of Dorothy Catolina.

Rocking her back and forth, Trowa held her in his arms and wept.


TBC