I do not own the “Gundam Wing” characters, nor did I make any money off of this project, so please no suing. Various pairings, yaoi, AU.

 

The Completion Of Death

 

 

Chapter Eight

War Wrecked Girl

Brothers-in-arms

 

 

            The young princess tied the final lace on her tall leather boots and hopped to her feet. She crossed her spacious room to the mirror that gleamed in the corner and gave herself a once-over. She tugged the leather vest down firmly over her chest, straightening her lavender tunic beneath it. She felt slightly uncomfortable in pants, being so familiar to skirts and dresses, but tolerated the black breeches she had donned. She ran a comb through her long hair, nodded once, grabbed a traveling bag and cloak, and bounded toward the exit.

            She threw open the door, and was about to step outside into the hallway, when her pale sapphire eyes fell onto a well-known face.

            “Where are you planning on running off to, Relena?”

            She held the eyes that leveled at her, a blue so pure it reminded her of where the ocean met the sky. Platinum hair fell about his shoulders in a cascade of brilliance while his face never changed expression. He stood tall and regal, with elegant war clothes of the nobility that clung to his well-muscled frame.

            “I am going to find Heero Yuy, dear brother,” Relena replied, voice steady.

            “Why?” Zechs asked in return. “He has served us and left, wishing, from what I understand, to be left alone. So why would you wish to go against his desires?”

            She turned her head away, looking down at her hands. She felt a certain embarrassment building in her, but she fought it down. “He needs me.”

            “If he needed you, he would have taken you with him,” her brother replied, his voice soft. “Relena, please-”

            “No!” she yelled, taking a step away from him. Urgency threatened to strangle the words dead in her throat.  “You do not understand! Heero and I- I mean, Master Yuy and I have a connection! I have felt it! Something stirred inside of me when I met him, when my eyes fell upon him while he was talking to you. Zechs, I-I-I love him! I was meant to be with him, spend the rest of my life by his side.”

            “Relena, there is something you should know about him before you go,” he whispered. His eyes fell onto her craving face, noting the desperate, yet controlled glint in her eyes.

            Delicately, she pushed past him, and continued walking down the hall, fastening the cloak about her throat. “I know all that I need to know. He is my prince.”

            “Relena!” Zechs yelled, causing her to stop in her tracks, but not turn to face him. “Before going into battle, you should always know everything about your opponent. You are going in unarmed.”

            The princess whirled around, hair flying in slow motion. She held her ground, looking back at him, boldly. “What is it that you know, brother?”

            “Heero Yuy,” he began, watching her face with a cautious azure eye, “is the legendary Angel of Life. He is one of the beings that shall bring destruction to this world.”

            Princess Relena Peacecraft said nothing as she felt her face crumble, even though she was numb. The brown leather bag she was holding slipped from her dead fingers and crashed to the floor, spilling her clothes and accessories everywhere. Her eyes stared at her brother in disbelief for a moment, then horror as she realized he spoke the truth.

            “T-then why was he here?” she whispered.

            “Diplomatic reasons,” Zechs muttered. “Talks of war. Nothing more.”

            Distantly, the girl felt herself sinking to her knees, her head falling forward. “No…”

            “Yes,” Zechs murmured, walking towards her. “Do you see now why I had to tell you this? Do you see the importance of knowing everything before a war?”

            Relena’s head flew up, eyes hard, yet watery. “He is not my enemy, Zechs! He was meant to find me! I know it! I can feel it!”

            A soft, comforting hand fell onto the girl’s shoulder, while the other one swept away a loose tear that had escaped down her tender cheek. “Sister, please accept what Lady Fate has laid before you and realize we cannot fight against her.”

            She brushed his hand away, gathered her things back into her bag, and rose to her feet. Her face was suddenly hard; her clear eyes full of a firm determination. “Brother,” she said, flashing him a small smile, “I appreciate your concern, but I know what I am getting in to. If nothing else, I have to see him again, something inside of me is telling me I have to. Please, understand.” With that, she turned and disappeared down the cold stone hallways, floating past the stained-glass windows, the colors painting her in a rainbow.

            Zechs leaned against a nearby wall, pushing the long bangs from his sapphire eyes. “I understand, Relena. Good luck and may the Lady Fate have mercy upon you.”

 

 

 

 

 

            The mismatched companions made their way through a small deserted village, one that Duo recognized immediately from a trek several days earlier. The shops were all deserted and mostly blackened skeletons, things barely identifiable. Of the buildings that remained standing, only a few had all their windows, doors, and walls intact, but they were beaten bare by flying dust and branches. Overhead, foreboding clouds drifted across the sky, casting shadows everywhere, while wind wrapped each boy in a cool embrace.

            “What has happened to this place?” Wufei asked while his hand unconsciously drifted to the hilt of his sword.

            “The result of a war,” Quatre murmured, noting the decay and isolation that hung throughout the town. “Things that I could not stop.”

            Trowa’s hand fell onto his shoulder, comforting. “You cannot save the entire world at once.”

            The boy king responded with a short nod, his eyes hard. “I know. I can only do the best I can, and try harder next time so things such as these don’t happen again.”

            Duo looked around, his violet eyes narrowed. Something didn’t feel…right. Slowly, he unsheathed his sword, holding it tightly in his hand. Wufei, sensing the demon’s distress, grabbed his own weapon, sloe eyes darting around frantically. Trowa took a protective step in front of Quatre, watching everything with hard emerald eyes.

            Quatre took the initiative, speaking like the diplomat he was. “Whoever is there, I ask that you please show yourself! We wish you no harm!”

            “Funny thing to hear from someone who is traveling with the Demon of Death!” A young man emerged from the shadows, mousy brown eyes narrowed into hate-filled slits. His hair was long and auburn, brushing against his shoulders in light waves. Armor, a carefully polished metal that gleamed with importance and rank, covered his body, while his sword was loosely clutched in his hand. His gaze fell onto Trowa, who stared evenly back at him. “Hn. Surprised to see you here.”

            “So am I, Tomo,” Trowa replied, his knuckles going white with pressure. “What is a Knight doing out here?”

            “We heard rumors of the demon coming this way,” Tomo replied, stalking slowly towards them. “Just as we heard rumors of a betraying Knight of the Scythe and a mad king.”

            “Watch your tongue!” Wufei screamed.

            The Knight glanced at him, then casually waved him aside like an bothersome insect. “Your name has not been mentioned yet, general. If I were you, I would keep it that way. Remember, you are nothing more than a slave at heart, and it would be more than simple enough to make you relive your past.”

            Wufei prepared to leap at the arrogant Knight, but Trowa steadied him with a glare. “Hold your place, Wufei. Now is not the time,” the emerald-eyed boy said, and silenced a furious Wufei once more with another glare.

            “So, what do you want?” Duo growled. “If we’re going to fight, let’s hurry up and get it over with, because I have some really important things to do.”

            “Don’t worry, beast,” Tomo replied. His voice was taken up and carried on the wind to their ears, nothing more than a mocking growl. “The world will still be here for you to destroy in a few moments. I just want to talk.”

            “Talk?” Trowa asked, raising an eyebrow that was covered by his jutting hair.

            “Aye,” he replied. “I would like to know why you are going against everything you have ever believed in, why you are doing something as foolish as helping this monster.”

            “Hey!” Duo yelled, but his objection fell onto deaf ears.

            Tomo’s brown eyes drifted to Quatre, who stood solid behind Trowa. “Is it because of this boy? How cute!”

            “How much longer must we listen to your pointless babble?” Wufei screamed.

            The Knight did not give him a second glance as he bypassed Trowa and took Quatre’s face in his hand, grabbing it lightly by the chin. “And how is our stark raving mad lord doing today, hmmm?”

            Quatre tore his face away while Wufei rushed to the Knight, shoving him roughly out of the way. His sword caught a small beam of light and flashed it, the point flying to the Knight’s throat, while a snarl fastened itself to his lips. “Keep your dirty hands to yourself. You are not fit to look at him, let alone touch him!”

            “Me?” the Knight of the Scythe growled, baring his teeth and taking a few steps away from the blade. He looked like an animal, primal and feral and completely ready to attack. “You are the ones working to destroy the world!”

            “It’s nothing like that!” Quatre yelled, spreading his arms apart. “I love my kingdom and would gladly die for them if need be. Why would I want to kill them?”

            “I don’t know,” Tomo mocked. His head cocked to the side, a wicked smirk clawing at his mouth as a few strands of auburn hair slid into his eyes. “Maybe because you are insane?”

            “I’m tired of listening to this guy,” Duo said. “Let’s just get rid of him and get out of here.”

            Tomo raised one eyebrow, his eyes swinging over to Trowa. “You won’t go against me, now will you, Trowa? We have fought side by side on many occasions, all for the good of the world; are you willing to throw that all away now? Are you willing to go against everything you have ever known? You cannot abandon us, your brothers-in-arms. We have you by the heart, if nothing else.”

            Trowa’s face did not change, but his hand drifted to the king’s shoulder. “Brothers you may be, but I have to fight against my family now, for the sake of my own beliefs. Please, let us pass without blood. I have seen enough in my lifetime.”

            The Knight gripped his sword, a snarl leaping onto his lips. “We took you in when you had no one! We made you one of us! How dare you betray us, you filthy fool!”

            At last, the emerald-eyed boy drew his blade, face indifferent. “I am grateful for what you have done for me, truly I am. However, I have found my place in life and will kill anyone who dares stand in my way. Including you, Tomo.”

            Tomo turned away after a moment, face indifferent. “So be it.” Bringing his free hand to his mouth, he inserted the fingers and pelted out an earsplitting whistle. Four armor-clad men appeared, emerging from the dark oblivion of one of the few standing shops. Each one brandished a glittering short sword, so bright they seemed as though no blood had ever touched them. Their faces were blank and emotionless, as if they were no more than living dolls.

            “We shall do what we must to stop you,” one Knight proclaimed, his voice as dead as his face. “Including turn on our brother.”

            A smirk crossed Duo’s lips as his blazing eyes narrowed to slits. He automatically fell into a defensive stance while watching his surroundings with an ageless gaze. “Oh, am I going to have fun with you! You bunch of arrogant bastards, thinking that you can do whatever you want with weapons that don’t belong to you! I want my scythe back, and I want it NOW!”

            Tomo instantly flew at Trowa, his sword clanging against the emerald-eyed Knight’s weapon and holding it. After a second of leaning, they broke apart and Tomo immediately attempted a downward swipe, which was easily parried. Growling, he sliced his blade from right to left, unto which Trowa slid back, narrowly missing the steel, but feeling the soft breeze and quiet hiss as it passed within inches of his chest.

            Wufei had been rushed by a Knight himself, but fought with an intensity that seemed unnatural. Whereas the Knight battled mostly with his sword, Wufei used his body, relying on his blade only to parry certain sword thrusts. A swipe came sailing at his stomach, but the general danced away with a swiftness that was inhuman, and leapt into the air, his foot connecting with the man’s head. He stumbled back a few paces, but quickly regained his bearing and charged at Wufei once again.

            The general sidestepped another sweep of the sword and weaved his way around his adversary. He moved like a blur, a spectral that was barely visible. With a quick punch, he drove his foe to his knees, allowing for a moment’s reprieve.

            Quatre fought at a slight disadvantage, having only his dagger to depend upon. However, with Wufei as his comrade for several years, he had learned the finer points to war, and was currently holding his own against his opponent. He ducked a swing, diving down and sweeping the man’s legs out from underneath him. He watched as the Knight flipped onto his back with a grunt, a small billow of dust rising. Behind him, the king heard Duo throwing out insults and threats, his voice thick with sarcasm.

            “I can’t believe this is what they got to guard my scythe!” he raged while dodging a sweep of a sword. “I’m actually insulted by this! It’s a miracle that a bunch of five-year-olds didn’t come in and take it!” The Knight grabbed the demon’s wild braid, yanking him around hard. Duo growled a cursed under his breath, a feral snarl leaping onto his lips as his sword flew at the man, cutting through the protective armor and into the stomach beneath. Blood, scarlet as fire and thick as syrup, flew across his hands and his face, streaking down it in small rivers.

            “No one pulls on my braid,” he growled, pulling his weapon from the body. His eyes snapped over to Quatre, and upon seeing that the boy was battling with only a dagger, lent his help that way.

            Wufei parried another thrust and saw his opening; the Knight left his right side open after his attacks, a rather distinctive pattern, actually. He dodged yet another thrust and drove his weapon through the steel plates in his armor. The man’s face twisted into a mask of pain and surprise; his mouth working silently as he fell onto the dirt road, a pool of crimson seeping out with a dreamy slowness beneath him. Wufei’s sloe eyes flashed to Quatre, and seeing that Duo had him covered, dashed over to aid Trowa.

            Tomo growled an obscenity, shooting glances as his comrades fell too quickly. “Damn,” he cursed, feeling Trowa’s blade crash against his own. “I suppose I didn’t give you people enough credit.” Behind him, he heard his last Knight fall with a grunt under a careful attack placed by the boy king. Tomo tossed his head, auburn waves flying as his eyes narrowed. “What a grave mistake on my part.”

            “That it is,” Trowa calmly stated, flying down with his own attack: a quick jab at the Knight’s throat that missed and cut the side of his troubled face.

            “Shit,” Tomo snarled, feeling the blood slide down his cheek like tacky honey. He stopped his assault, his hand and weapon loosely hanging at his side. “Well, upon seeing my eminent demise in this city, I think now would be the perfect time for me to take my leave!”

            “Think again,” Duo replied, stepping between him and one end of the town. “If we let you go now, we would just have to fight you again later on, and I really might not be up to killing you then.”

            Trowa shot him a look, his sword still held up. “Duo…”

            “Actually,” Wufei muttered, strutting to the immortal boy’s side, “the demon proves a good point. We would only be forced to do battle with him later, at the site of the scythe. Do we really wish to take that kind of risk?”

            Trowa stared into the hard brown eyes of his fellow Knight. His heart was torn between his duty and his debt, each one heavy and beckoning. Finally he turned to Quatre, who stood dusty and bloody, yet still tall and regal. “Any thoughts from you?”

            “Well, I have one…”

 

 

 

           

 

            The angel stomped into the deserted village, noting the remnants of three bodies that lay half covered by a constant moving dust. Ignoring those, he walked past the ruined shops and blackened wood, feeling the harsh sun overhead. A bird, ebony and slick, burst from a tree to climb into the air, crying indignantly.

            “Are you the Angel of Life known as Heero Yuy?”

            The angel snapped his head towards the sound of the husky, dry voice. He was met with the vision of a once attractive man that hung from a nearby tree, now emancipated and dehydrated. His body was gaunt and his delicate, burned skin was stretched thin and leathery over his brittle bones. Hair hung in dirty auburn clumps about a young face, while mousy eyes narrowed from the harsh light above. Rope was wrapped around his entire body, tight and unforgiving, and connected to a sturdy branch from above.

            “Who are you?” the angel asked, raising a dark eyebrow.

            “My name is Tomo,” the man replied, voice cracking. His lip split and blood began to dribble down his chin, so thin it seemed like colored water. “I am one of Knights of the Scythe, or at least I was until I met up with the demon.”

            Heero’s face didn’t change as he walked to the Knight and sliced through the rope with his shimmering sword. He fell to the ground with a painful thud and grunt, but looked up adoringly at the angel. “Thank you, sir.”

            “What happened?” Heero asked while retrieving his waterskin for the man to drink from.

            “It is a long story,” Tomo mumbled, greedily taking the skin and swallowing almost every last drop of liquid from it. “I came across them three days ago and-”

            “‘Them’?” Heero asked, replacing the skin to his belt and raising an eyebrow.

            “Yes, Trowa Barton of the Knights, General Wufei Chang, and his highness, King Quatre Raberba Winner,” Tomo replied, secretly wondering if the angel bore any food as well. “They have taken up with the Demon of Death and are currently going after the scythe.”

            “What?” Heero nearly screamed, his throat clenching. That fool! How can he do such a thing?

            Tomo nodded, his eyes wide. “They left me here to tell you that. They said you would be by in a few days and told me that I must become the Messenger of the Soul. They said you would know what that means.”

            Heero made no movement for a moment, understanding the phrase abstractly. They know something about my soul. Perhaps one of the people he is traveling with has it. Could it be that close? Could I be that close to the Completion of Life?

            “So, would I sound rude if I asked you for some food?”

            Heero reached into his bag and pulled out a piece of jerky. He flung it at the Messenger and began to walk down the dusty path, feeling the sand beat against his face like needles. Dimly, he heard the man screaming his name behind him, pleading with him to make them pay for what they did to him and his brothers-in-arms, but he paid no heed.

            Duo, could you really be that close to finalizing everything? Could you really have my soul at hand? If you do…

            I’ll have to kill you.

            Please, Duo, don’t make me have to shed your blood. Duo…  




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