Author's Notes: I do not own Gundam Wing. I just wish that I
did. So please don't sue me.
Warning: the following content contains Dorothy--but don't run away. ^_^ This
fanfic takes place
during the episodes when Heero and Quatre are at the Sank Kingdom. So enjoy!
Kindness
By, Mirax_Terrik
A blond young man wondered through the lavishly decorated halls that lead to
the Sank Kingdom’s
main orchard. As Quatre Raberba Winner entered the orchard it was as if he had
stepped through a
portal to a more elegant and gentler time. In the middle of the orchard was a
large, makeshift dance
floor. The flowers and plant life of the orchard gave the surroundings a simple
beauty that Quatre
appreciate. Off to the side of the dance floor was an orchestra playing
soothing music as the stars
smiled over. Torches illuminated the garden and the people but were used in
vain because of the
majestic moon that lit up the night sky. The orchard exhibited such beauty that
Quatre had to catch
his breath.
The heir of the Winner family gazed at the people around him dancing,
mingling and eating. Quatre
could feel their happiness radiating off them. The guests were nobles and
leaders of their respective
countries. All had come to further the peace that the Sank Kingdom stood for.
Their daughters were
students of Relena Peacecraft’s Institution of pacifism. The reason of their
meeting was to discover
and, more of less, showcase how much their daughters had learned. Quatre
wondered for a moment
about Relena Peacecraft. He knew she would come to the ball to give a speech,
but he doubted that
she would stay the entire time. The young woman was weighted down with the
responsibilities of ruling a kingdom. Relena was a leader that would stop those
who could not help but fight and bring peace. Quatre just hoped that she would
not cave under the pressures.
He did not bother to look around for Heero Yuy. Quatre knew that his
anti-social companion would
be somewhere training hard for the never-ending battles that the Gundam pilots
faced. Just like
Heero, Quatre was a warrior and had fought in more battles than he could count.
The fair-haired
pilot wanted more that anything not fight, but he could not control it at the
moment. The people
around him know nothing of the harshness of war, only happiness and comfort.
Instead of feeling
bitter, Quatre was pleased. He did not want them to know what it felt like to
kill. They did not need
to be Gundam pilots.
Quatre walked slowly, examing the exquisite flowers. As he passed by, people
smiled warmly and
shook his hand, intrigued by one of the only male students.
Quatre felt a wave of guilt wash over him. They thought that he was a
student, but he was far from it.
He was a killer and a murder. He was unable to be a total pacifist, but he
deception was necessary.
Quatre pushed his guilt to the back of his mind and concentrated on a
red-haired girl. She was pulling
a young man after her, probably her brother, to a circle of girls. The youths
discomfort was obvious
to Quatre. The boy’s sister giggled as she sent him off to dance with one of
her friends. Quatre
chuckled at the awkwardness of the lad, but at the same time Quatre wondered if
he would have been
just like the young man had he not became part of Operation Meteor. Quatre stopped
himself and
frowned. Was he jealous of the boy? He froze, thinking. The past could not be
changed. It did no
good to pander what ifs. He could only follow his own path. He was not jealous.
His smile returned.
It did him good to be around happy people. They reminded him what he was
fighting for. They
needed someone to protect them. Quatre took a glass of wine from a waiter,
savoring its coolness in
his hand.
Quatre gazed idly at the crowd. He leaned against a massive pillar and
relaxed in the jovial
atmosphere. The kind-hearted pilot, then, caught sight of Dorothy Catalonia. He
stood up straight,
watching her with interest. Dorothy stood with a group of girls. She was with
them but also seemed
to be apart from them. She wore a long white gown. The torch light played
across her hair. In
Quatre’s eyes she looked strong but somehow fragile. He had seen Dorothy around
at the school
and knew that Dorothy advocated wars, but he did not know why. Quatre suddenly
felt
determination overtake hem. He set down his wineglass. Without a second thought
Quatre Raberba
Winner started in Dorothy Catalonia’s direction to find an answer.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Dorothy Catalonia listened with half an ear to the girls around her. They
girls were foolish, in
Dorothy’s opinion. They wanted total peace without war. All they could do was
blindly follow Miss
Relena. Dorothy was growing tired of their senseless prattle. All they talked
about was boys. Didn’t
they know there were more important topics to discuss? A brown-haired girl next
to Dorothy,
Katrina—a rather bossy girl, giggled bringing Dorothy out of her reviver.
"Look. That’s Quatre Raberba Winner. He is so cute," said
Katrina blushing. "I dropped my books
one day and he picked them up for me. He even carried them to class."
A blonde girl, who Dorothy remembered as Margaret, spoke quietly.
"Yeah, he is cute. But I think
the other boy is even cutter."
Katrina took this as a personal offense. "How can you like Heero Yuy?
He’s way too anti-social.
Quatre’s better."
The other girl sniffed, brushing her hair out of he face. "Well, it
does not matter anyway. He’s coming
this way so we better stop talking about him."
Another girl smiled slyly. "Maybe he’s coming to ask one of us to
dance." The girls, minus Dorothy,
all started to giggle but managed to regain control when Quatre reached them.
Dorothy kept her face impassive. She could not help but feel disgusted by
the way the girls acted.
Quatre greeted the girls, but went directly to Dorothy where he bowed with a
smile on his face. The
young pilot extended his hand to Dorothy.
"Good evening, Miss Dorothy. May I have the honor of this dance?"
Eloquence oozed out of each
word and movement.
Dorothy covered her surprise with a polite smile, which could have easily
been a predator’s. What
was the gundam pilot doing? She asked herself. It did not make sense to
Dorothy.
She looked into his eyes, blue like her own, and placed her hand in his.
"Why of course, Mr. Winner.
I would be delighted."
Curious/semi-jealous gazes followed Quatre and Dorothy as they walked to the
dance floor and
assumed a stiff dancing posture. They began to waltz in relative silence.
Dorothy tried to fill the
silence. "I must admit, Mr. Winner. I am a bit curious as to why you asked
me to dance. Did you
wish to talk?" Dorothy slightly sneered. Her words seemed to hold respect
and contempt
simultaneously.
Quatre shook his head. "I do want to talk to you—but later. We should enjoy the dance right now."
Dorothy looked as if she would argue, but she saw that Quatre has closed his
eyes loosing himself in
the dance. Dorothy smiled sardonically. She could play his game. She would soon
have the
information she wanted.
*~*~*
Dorothy slowly began to relax as the music washed over her. The melody was
simple and moving.
Before Dorothy knew it, she too was lost in the gentle music. Everything was
forgotten as they
danced.
Unbeknownst to the partakers of the dance, the flowing melody changed to an
intense, frantic song.
The tempo was beating faster as did Quatre and Dorothy’s hearts. They began to
dance intricate
steps that neither had ever learned, as they followed the rapid beat. The
middle of the ballroom soon
gave way to them. The other couples stopped dancing, in awe of the swiftness
and gracefulness of
Quatre and Dorothy’s movements. Quatre and Dorothy glided away from the middle
of the floor to
the edge where the garden began. Applause followed them. Neither of the two
noticed.
The music began to slow. Quatre and Dorothy swayed as the old tempo
reestablished itself. Dorothy
felt warm and comfortable in Quatre’s gentle embrace. The song began to dwindle
into nothing. As it
faded, she became once again aware of her surroundings. Dorothy’s eyes jerked
open as she
realized that her head was rested on Quatre’s shoulder. She recoiled from him,
breaking the trance
from the dance. Dorothy cursed herself. How could she have let down her
defenses? She had
worked so hard building those walls around herself, but they had crumbled.
She looked into his ocean blue eyes. She expected to see triumph over wining
that small battle, but
there was only concern in them. Concern? Dorothy’s mind was reeling. Concern
for her? Why would
he care? Dorothy turned away from him trying to regain her self-control. She
maneuvered her
features into an enthusiastic smile. She clasped her hands together and turned
back to him in a rush.
"Mr. Winner. You said you wanted to speak to me. It seems the music has
stopped now. Shall we
start out conversation?" Dorothy said in a cheery voice. Before he could
speak, she continued. Her
voice stilled carried the false excitement that she used to patronize Relena.
"I think we can dispense
with the formalities and get to the main point of this meeting." She
paused, letting a laugh fill the
space. "You and I are similar, are we not, Quatre? We are both warriors,
but you refuse to accept
the glory and beauty of battles. Do you understand how really foolish that is?
Are those not the
reasons why wars are fought?"
Quatre stared past her. "I’d rather think that wars are fought to
protect things like what we felt in that
dance." He said quietly.
Dorothy opened her mouth, but no words came. She let her arms fall to her
sides. There was and
uncomfortable silence. She wanted to deny everything he had said. Something
stopped her. Had she
felt something during the dance? Her fingers formed a fist. Why did this boy
affect her so?
Quatre focused his gaze back on Dorothy. "I fail to understand why you
are so attached to wars.
Peace can be so beautiful." His tone was sincere.
"But war can be just marvelous. The feelings felt by the fighters is
glorious." Said Dorothy
enthusiastically.
"No, they are not, Dorothy. I know that from experience." Quatre
said with a deep pain in his eyes.
"I’ve done horrible things. Wars are painful. If everyone stops fighting,
we can live in peace. Miss
Relena will lead us."
Dorothy snorted. "Yes, Quatre, we will have peace, but you can not deny
the beauty of war. To do
so wold be to shame the memories of the dead soldiers.
"That’s not true, but let’s forget about that for right now." He
paused. Dorothy could tell he was at
the point of the discussion that he was most anxious about. "Dorothy.
While we danced, I sensed that
something has hurt you in your past. You have a deep wound. I want to help
you."
Dorothy’s eyes flared. "Do not assume that you understand me."
Dorothy spat angrily. How dare he
imply such a thing?! "You know nothing about me!" She turned to
leave.
Quatre grabbed her hand causing her to stop. "But I would if you told
me. Dorothy. Let me help
you." He said soothingly.
Dorothy spun back to him. Her hand was still in Quatre’s gentle but firm
grasp. She was suddenly
aware of how close she was to him. She could feel his breath on her face. She
wondered if she was
as imposing to him as he was to her. They stared at each other in silence.
Dorothy broke away from
his steady gaze, noticing that it was becoming quite late. Some of the guests
were already departing.
The music still played while a cool evening breeze ruffled her hair. She let
her gaze drift back to
Quatre, who was still staring at her. The moonlight illuminated Quatre’s pale
features. The young
noble looked like a blond-haired angel. Dorothy realized with a start. It was
not only his physical
being that was angelic. There was a warmth that surrounded him, infinite
tenderness and kindness.
These were not trademarks of a warrior. Dorothy gave Quatre a hate-filled
glare.
"I believe that you are not a strong fighter, Quatre." Dorothy
drawled quietly and dangerously. "It
was simply enchanting to speak with you. Now I must leave you—but we will meet
again, Quatre
Raberba Winner." She wrenched her hand from his grip. Quatre let her go.
Dorothy left the orchard
and climbed unsteadily up a grassy hill in the direction of the student
dormitories.
What was it about that boy? He was the weakest of the Gundam pilots. She
thought. But why had he
affected her in a way only few had done before? When Dorothy usually engaged
the battlefield of
conversations, she was in complete control, only letting certain emotions slip
through her
self-imposed mask. Her voice was always mocking filled with false cheerfulness.
She would find her
opponent’s weak point and use it toward her advantage.
Battling this boy had been different, though. She had fled. Was it because
of his innocents or his
kindness? Kindness. Dorothy snorted. Kindness was overrated. As she thought
about Quatre, she
could remember faint glimmerings of the kindness that she had once felt in the
depths of her
childhood. Perhaps that was why this battle had been different. He reminded her
too much of her
past self. Quatre’s idealism was almost sickening to her. Peace would not come
without a price. She
had once thought like Quatre, but she had long since rid herself of foolish
kindness.
As she reached the top of the hill, she felt something compel her to look
back. Dorothy turned
around and stood amid the dark ocean of grass, her hair flowing behind her. To
her surprise, the
blond angel was still standing in the exact same place she had left hem,
watching her with such sincere
concern that Dorothy flinched. His eyes seemed to be willing her to rejoin him.
Before Dorothy could
find fault with this unspoken message, a thought crossed her mind. She could
rejoin him. It was an
almost dizzying prospect. Possibilities floated through her head. He would hold
her with those gentle
arms of his. She would be able to feel the happiness that she had felt only
early in her childhood. She
would confide in him about all the hardships and worries she had faced after
her father’s death and
he would murmur comforting things in her ear as he stroked her hair. Dorothy
would be able to see
the understanding in his warm, blue eyes. They would—
Dorothy stiffened. They would—what? Live happily ever after? She grimaced
bitterly at he own
foolishness. Those were fantasies of normal girls. Dorothy Catalonia was no
normal girl. She was a
warrior. She would not let that idealistic fool bother her any longer. She was
not weak like him. She
would be strong like her father and enjoy the beauty of battles until peace
could be won. Dorothy
spun on her heel. She strode confidently to the dormitories. She had restored
her precious
self-assurance. Yet in her soul, her kindness was not gone, but remained buried
waiting to be freed
by someone. Someone like Quatre…
the end.