Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Two Sides of a Coin ❯ chapter 7 ( Chapter 7 )

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

By: gaelan

Disclaimers: I don't own Gundam wing. Should any of the images and ideas in this chapter be very familiar, then they're not mine either.

Ratings: PG- 13

Warnings: the usual.

Chapter 7 --- Trowa decides to go to Methru. Catherine watches her brother. Craig and Sano talks.

The flickering light from the bonfire cast shadows over the thoughtful face. Catherine watched the illusionary crags created by the shadows, shifting and darkening the smooth, beautiful face. The cold is beginning to seep, and Catherine clutched at the blanket that she held. She planned to give it to her brother, but seeing him brood so still before the fire --- unmoving ever since they arrived with the Srafian queen and her son earlier that night --- Catherine felt afraid. She may be older than Trowa in years, but that is all. Perhaps Trowa's maturity beyond his twenty-four years is due to his life as a mercenary before he came to them ten years ago.

Catherine shivered as she tried to comprehend how a young boy could be a mercenary, but she couldn't. Wanderer though their people may be, they protect their young, and Catherine is just that, protected. Trowa would have been to, if not for the accidental fire that caused their parents' deaths, and the disappearance of her brother. The surviving gypsies had believed that the toddler had survived the fire because they didn't find his young body among those who died, but he couldn't be found anywhere either.

Ten years has passed, but a 17-year old girl still remembers and believes, clinging to the thought that her baby brother is alive. It was thus, when their paths crossed with those of a group of mercenary soldiers, and the older members of their tribe exclaimed at the swarthy child among the group, claiming that he looks exactly like Gustaf Bloom, Catherine's father who was infamous for his looks and talents.

That was enough for Catherine to believe that the silent, mysterious boy is her brother, and she went her way to convince him to stay with them. Trowa did, and even if he still does not believe that he is Catherine's real brother, he had conceded as he learned to love her and the whole tribe. He is now their leader, Uncle Willie having proclaimed him thus before he had died of old age six years ago.

“Catherine.” She was jolted out of her reminiscing by the quiet voice. She focused on her brother to find him looking at her. Trowa has now turned his back to the large bonfire that he had been staring at for the better part of the night, and Catherine blinked as an illusion of bright red light surrounded her brother.

“Catherine, what are you doing standing in the shadows? It's late. You should be sleeping,” Trowa said when Catherine remained where she is.

Those words prompted the older woman to walk into the light, draping the blanket over Trowa's shoulders before sitting on the large log beside him.

“Stop treating me like a child, _boy_. I'm older that you are for three years. Besides, _you_ should be sleeping. You were the one who was traveling for a whole day,” Catherine said, a half-playful scowl on her face. She waited for the usual rejoinder, but Trowa only smiled slightly at the fire, then he grew serious once again.

Catherine sighed, the scowl slipping away into a frown. She had been curious ever since Trowa and Dorothy came back with the Srafian queen and a child, Roe completely nowhere to be found. The presence of the queen is alarming enough, since they had been on Srafian lands for four months, and they had seen first hand the cruelty of the usurper ruler. For Catherine though, the absence of the beautiful sword-dancer that they took in almost a year ago is much more alarming, although she don't know why. All that she knows is that Trowa loves Roe, and that is enough. The whole tribe had also liked him, not only because he is beautiful but also because he always seems gay.

“Trowa, what is going on? Why is the queen of Srafia here?” she asked a little bit aggressively, only softening it down with the last question, “Where is Roe, Trowa?” almost compassionate. Catherine felt through the affinity that she held for her brother that Trowa's brooding might somehow be largely because of the absence of Roe.

She had certainly guessed right when she glimpsed the anger that crossed Trowa's face before the man turned and hid them from her. Alarmed at the fierceness of the expression, Catherine laid a gentle hand on Trowa's shoulder, turning him back to her.

“Trowa, what is going on? What happened to Roe?” she asked with urgency, staring intently at Trowa's turned face.

“Roe is gone. No, he never was.” Trowa had murmured to the fire.

Catherine became increasingly alarmed, her fingers now digging into Trowa's shoulder. “What do you mean? What happened? Is---“ she hesitated, “---is Roe dead?”

Trowa laughed loudly, almost madly, adding to Catherine's apprehension. Trowa rarely becomes this passionate that it is almost frightening to see him thus. “I wish that he is. It would have been better,” Trowa answered bitterly when his laughter died down.

“Oh, Trowa. You do not mean that,” alarmed as she is, Catherine opted for patience, instead of going hysterical with worry and curiosity herself. “Please, tell me what is going on. What happened to Roe, and don't go for that mad answering again!”

That seemed to draw Trowa into a semblance of sanity, as he fully faced Catherine, resentment still evident on his expression. “Roe is not who he seems to be,” he began, raising a hand when Catherine was about her mouth once again. “He --- is the prince of Srafia, Heero Yuy.” Catherine now remained still, shocked. “He joined us so that he could enter Srafia and the castle freely. He plans to avenge his parents, he told us, and regain his rightful place.”

Trowa had again taken to looking at the fire, and Catherine grew impatient when Trowa seemed to have no inclination to continue.

“Trowa---“

“He intends to offer himself to the Shinigami-king. He thinks that it would stop him from attacking Srafia.” Trowa drew in a deep breath, the laughed bitterly again. “Isn't that idiotic?” he spat out.

Catherine nodded, although she did not actually agree. Roe or Heero Yuy is a beautiful creature, and she would have made known that she liked him, even seduced him perhaps, if she had not seen that Trowa liked him too. The Shinigami-king would have been a fool, or does not like men if he would not accept such an offering. Catherine opted for the fool reason; even those who prefer women definitely could not resist Roe.

Trowa became silent and brooding again, as if contemplating something. “No, not idiotic,” he said after a while. “More like manipulative. Yes--- manipulative. And he would succeed too. He said that the Shinigami-king was his lover,” Trowa shook his head. “He uses people ---“

Catherine was about to speak, to disagree, because she could not comprehend that the gentle dancer could be such, but someone spoke behind them before her.

“No. That's not true, Trowa.”

Dorothy. Now, that is a manipulative person. Catherine had always thought of her so, and assumes that it might be because of her noble blood and all those summers spent on the Srafian court. But there is no smirk on that pretty face now, only earnestness as she came to sit across them, with the flickering fire between them.

“What are you doing here?” Trowa said in a cold voice. “I do not wish to speak to you or listen to any of your lies again.”

Dorothy ignored him, staring at the fire instead. Then the smirk returned, only this time, there is a hint of sadness there. “_Lying_ as you call it, is the only thing that I have. Do you have any idea how hard it is to be like who I am? A noble father, a gypsy mother. Two worlds that could not accept me entirely.” Dorothy paused to look at Trowa's face and saw something there as she looked away again.

“Or perhaps you did, except that the tribe accepted you like they could not accept me.” Catherine felt a surge of guilt as she realized that it is true. Even as children, they always treated Dorothy differently because they always kept in mind that she is different. Perhaps Dorothy had no choice but be what she is because of the cruelty of children, even of the elders.

“I'm sorry ---“ She began, but Dorothy only shook her head.

“I did not come here to make you feel guilty, only to tell you that Heero only did what he did for something that he believed would be for the good of his people.”

“And why are you doing this Dorothy? How many times have you made it known that you hated the Srafian royalty?” Trowa said indifferently, not willing to listen any more.

Dorothy nodded solemnly, unperturbed by Trowa's apathy. “I do. But Heero is different. My father had always told me that if Heero becomes the king, then Srafia would be happy again. He said that he is like the old kings. I did not believe him before, but I do now. Heero is willing to do everything for his duty. I admire him for that. It hurts him, because he does not wish to use anyone, but…”

“What is the Wing Zero?” Trowa cut in, no longer indifferent but still cold and resentful.

Dorothy stopped; staring at Trowa as she tried to weigh in her mind how much of the truth she will have to tell and if this will be of any disadvantage to Heero. After a long moment, she decided to trust Trowa and whatever it is that he feels for Heero, hoping that it would be enough. So she began with the least known Srafian legend.

“According to legend, Srafia was about to die due to famine and plague. Then a magician begged the spirit of the world, Gaia, to spare the small kingdom. In response to the heartfelt plea, Gaia gave him the power that brought rain and made the parched lands fertile. Other than that, it also brought healing, curing everything and everyone except death. As repayment for what it did, the power asked the right to choose any of the royals to be its vessel.”

“The power… it's sentient?” Catherine asked when Trowa remained silent.

Dorothy nodded. “It came from Gaia, Catherine,” she said almost condescendingly. They are nomads, living off with whatever the land gives them. And they knew better than any one else that Gaia is not merely land or forest, but a pulsing, breathing being that held their world as its whole body.

Catherine blushed, and Dorothy tried to correct her mistake for the first time in her life.

Catherine nodded, smiling a little as she knew how hard the apology must be coming from Dorothy. Meanwhile, her brother remained silent.

Dorothy looked at him for some time then continued. “The name of the power is Wing Zero. It was given to it by Master J. He is the magician who begged Gaia.”

Catherine interrupted again. Gypsies are well-known for their entertaining skills, story-telling among them. Catherine is the best story-teller among their tribe. “Is?” she inflected.

“The legend is true. According to what my father told me, the famine and plague that threatened to destroy Srafia occurred six hundred years ago. But Master J was rendered undying by the Wing Zero until it chooses its vessel.”

“And this Master J is still alive?”

“Yes. He is Ro --- King Heero's teacher.”

“It chose Heero.” It was a statement, so sudden and so quiet that it surprised both Dorothy and Catherine. The light-haired woman nodded, waiting for the next question that she herself had asked when she tricked Heero into telling her.

It never came, and as Dorothy peered at the silent man, she knew that it was not needed, not for Trowa anyway. He loves the man after all. Then she realized that the two are taking everything too well, especially Trowa. She herself did not believe that much when she was told of this legend by her father.

“Heero could have refused.” Another sudden statement and it took all of Dorothy's will not to voice the first thought that came to mind. Trowa may love Heero and believe in him a lot, but he couldn't seem to understand the extent of Heero's sense of responsibility.

She decided not to answer, allowing Trowa to come to that realization himself.

Trowa was inwardly shaking, disbelief and admiration warring within him. He had seen the scars on Heero's body, had known where he got most of them. Despite all of it, Heero chose to do what he is chosen to do.

Dorothy could not see any emotion cross Trowa's solemn face, but knew that he must be shaken at least.

“My father said that only Srafian royalty could control the Wing Zero. However, King Trane could hardly use it. He could, but it was also said that the Wing Zero is very unstable.” Dorothy recalled her conversation with Heero when she asked if this was true. Heero answered back by telling her his fears; that the Wing Zero, with its unstableness, might explode and let out the endless energy that it held, annihilating everything.

She chose not to voice that recollection though, certain that Trowa's reaction would be violent at best.

“But I thought that it brought healing to Srafia?” Catherine now asked.

Dorothy nodded, but did not answer. Looking at her with narrowed eyes, Trowa spoke. “It is energy. It is a sentient being. And it is unstable.” He said. Then he stood up, having seen the silent acknowledgement in Dorothy's blue eyes.

Watching the retreating back, Dorothy sighed.

____________________________

His chest hurt, but it became even more intense as he stood in that balcony, surrounded by darkness and untouched by sound. He wondered if the hurt was all due to the wound given to him by the Shinigami-king, but he is an honest man, at least to himself and he knew that it is not. Some of his pain comes from his emotions; humiliation, anger, but most of all, self-loathing, so strong that only dwelling on it caused him to shudder.

Self-loathing had been very familiar to him for many years, ever since he left Srafia with Sano, but time and their travels had lessened it, until it was a faint nagging on the back of his head. Coming back to Srafia brought some of those emotions back, but it fully unleashed that morning, upon seeing Heero and then… Selfish, he was very selfish. They should have returned earlier. Or they should have never left at all. But he was so very afraid, and he still is. Selfish and a coward.

Craig sighed, leaning back on the smooth wall, so tired and yet so restless.

It had been a long, long day, and it is not yet over.

“Craig?” a familiar voice called to him from within his darkened rooms. “Where are you?”

“Here.”

The familiar silhouette of his brother stepped into the balcony, standing beside him where he leaned. “What are you doing standing in the dark? You should be resting. Sally would be very angry.”

“I have rested, Sano. Too much that I already feel restless.”

Silence. Then Sano turned to stare at the numerous lights from the bonfires that the common people built to celebrate Heero's ascendance into the Srafian throne. “Let's leave here then. We are not really needed.”

Craig sighed. Sano had only been ten when they left. He would not understand, too young as he was. But he is wrong. They are needed. They had left long ago without doing anything, and when they returned, their sister and their uncle, the man who killed his father, were dead. So weak. So useless. Unlike Heero.

“How is he?” he finally asked, although he had been dying to for sometime already. He would have gone out and watched over him if he knew that Sally ---and the Shinigami-king--- would do something unlikely towards him. He shuddered, the Methruian king's possessive words still frightening him.

“Who?”

“Heero.”

“He does not need us, brother. He made it clear this morning.” There was aggressiveness on Sano's voice, and resentment. Craig heaved another sigh silently. True, Heero mad it clear that he does not need them with his silence and laughter, but he is their blood, and Sano should be mature enough to know it. But Craig said nothing, allowing his silence to do the speaking.

Sano heard what he meant to say, and relented to it. The gap between their ages had been too wide that Craig is more of a father than a brother, even now that they're at their prime. But Sano still does not like it, and this is not like Craig at all. Why is he suddenly caring when he all but cursed their uncle and sister and all the Yuy blood?

Even though he was young when it happened, he still remembered; their father was the one who was supposed to be king. But their uncle, Trane Yuy, killed him, fratricide --- it seemed that they are cursed, them with their bloody heritage, that a man would kill his own brother, as their ancestors had done in the past. And Trane would have killed them too, if they had not accepted his offer that they leave Srafia. They did, gladly, or at least for him, but Craig had always been guilty, thinking himself weak for not fighting back.

“Brother. He does not need us. The Shinigami-king is more than capable in protecting him.” He now said. And he believed it, for he had seen the way the king or one of his warriors seem to always hover over their fierce-eyed, but helpless-looking nephew.

Sano was too deep in musing over the protectiveness that he saw a while ago that he did not see his brother shudder. However, what he said was loud enough to give Sano some clues as to what his brother fears exactly.

“What did you say?” Sano demanded; certain that he had not heard clearly the first time.

“Who would protect him from the Shinigami-king?”

“Craig… this is… idiotic. Perhaps you have not seen it, but the Shinigami-king obviously --- well…”

“What? Loves him? Do you think so? Even if I had not seen them tonight, I have seen enough to see that the Shinigami-king treats him more like an object than a human being! Would you still call that love?” Craig shivered, recalling the words of the said king earlier that day.

“He is mine. And I would kill everyone andhimbefore I allow anyone to touch what is mineagain.”

“You've seen that too, huh?” Sano said sheepishly. Then he shrugged, his mind still made up. “It does not matter, Craig. He chose to do this, but if…”

“He chose to sacrifice himself! And I've had enough of it! Even if he does not ask for help, I will still stay by his side,” Craig growled determinedly. Sano shrugged once again; complain though he might, he will do as his brother tells him to, and if he said that they'll stay, so be it.

Although he doubted that they could make any difference, or be strong enough to go against such a legendary ruler.

TBC

A/N: Sorry about the space that I have given to my OCs. If you think that they're wasting your time, feel free to leave this ficcie behind, because I will be using their POVs for some chapters in the future.