039
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing.
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Characters: Dorothy, Treize, Zechs, Noin.
Note: Chapter Seven. OMG, an update! I know, I'm in shock too.
Summary: They were born into a world of soldiers and politicians, aristocrats and royalty. A world where there are two sides to every story, two faces to every person. Their childhood was stolen from them the moment they learned to reason, the moment they learned the benefit of a lie.
Chapter: Seven: Plotting
Chapter Summary: In which Dorothy overhears plans, Noin beats Zechs (again), and Treize is curious
--
She is not sneaking, that’s what she tells herself. She is simply taking a midnight stroll through the shadows of the house. There is no shame in that. She doesn’t believe it though - especially as she ducks into an alcove when she hears a door open down the hall. She crouches behind the bust of her father’s great-great-great-grandfather.
“Dermail, I don’t think this is necessary,” Alexander grumbles. She recognizes her father’s voice immediately and shrinks back into the shadows. Silently she chews the end of her braid even though she’s been told repeatedly not to. “You make it like it’s some sort of grand secret.” Alexander laughs heartily.
“Be quiet Alexander, you don’t want to attract the attention of the servants. That’s the last thing we want - those gossipers listening in,” Dermail grumbles. Dorothy swallows and leans forward to try and see them. They’re standing in the open doorway and by the way the light dances she supposes they’ve lit a fire. It makes her remember the cold and her bare feet and she shivers.
“What is this about Dermail? It’s late and I have to be in San Francisco tomorrow. Damn Noventa and his ideas…”
“This is a bit more serious than some foolhardy old man with his own mind,” Dermail hisses. “Now, come away from the door and let us be civilized Alexander. I see no reason this shouldn’t benefit both of us. After all, I have always treated you as a son, haven’t I?”
Their voices fade as they disappear and the door closes once more. She takes a deep breath before slipping past the marble sculpture and down the cold floor. Her nightdress is thin and she shivers again from the cold creeping in through closed windows. She wishes she had remembered her robe. Quietly she kneels down and presses her ear to the warm wood of the door.
“…Dorothy has her uses,” Dermail is saying. “You know I adore her Alexander. She reminds me so much of Lilla lately…”
“Yes, she does, doesn’t she?” Her father’s voice is fond and musing and a chill seeps down her spine. “She is a…asset surely.”
“Surely,” Dermail agrees immediately. There’s the clink of glasses. “Dorothy is a rosebud on the brink of blossom. She’ll be lovely when she’s older…but she’s a girl.” Her teeth grind. “She isn’t fit for battle or for tactics, just look at the disturbance she caused in Marseille. Timothy is.”
“Now…I don’t think…Dorothy is a mature girl. She’s got her mother’s spirit and my cunning. She’s a good shot too.” Dermail snorts. “What of Treize then?” her father questions.
“Treize? Aria’s let him go soft; I don’t know what she was thinking. I always thought she had more brains then that. Evidently I was mistaken.” Another clink as the wind howls. “Treize will be disposed of as seen fit once he’s served his purpose. But if we are to insure that power remains with us, we must start on Timothy as soon as possible. I will not have him being influenced by Treize, or even Dorothy to an extent.”
“I have to think on this Dermail, these are my children you’re talking about.”
“Have it your way Alexander, just remember I can’t protect you from The Committee for much longer. Noventa will eventually be able to bring up those charges of war crimes and it may be sooner than you expect.” She hears a sigh and scampers back to her alcove before the door opens. “Think on it - I head for my house in the afternoon.”
Before the door closes once more she sees her father glare at the glass in his hand. She dashes back to her room, the sound of breaking glass echoing in her ears.
--
Milo is breathless when he reaches them. Zechs quirks an eyebrow and Noin crosses her arms. It takes a few moments before he regains his breath and stares at them with a frightened look. “Halice just informed us that Treize Khushrenada will be here to see our tests at the end of the month!” he pants.
“He’ll be judging?” Noin questions. She moves her pawn and Zechs frowns at it. “Or will he just be looking at the results?”
“No, he’ll be judging. Halice said he’d be the primary judge too.” Milo sinks onto the bench next to Zechs and stares at the board forlornly. “This is a damper,” he grumbles. His grey eyes focus on the black and white pieces finally. “Who’s winning? Noin again?”
“Of course,” she replies happily. Her bishop moves into place. “Check.”
Zechs mutters under his breath. “Damn.” He squints at the board, trying to see a way of rescuing his king.
Milo rolls his eyes. “Give it up Zechs, ya know she always wins.” Noin grins brightly.
“Whose side are you on anyway?” Zechs growls. He takes a breath and moves his knight.
Milo grins at Noin. “Hers, of course.”
“Smart move,” Noin replies, “checkmate.”
--
“Your grandfather invited us for Christmas this year,” Aria comments. The old cook, Chef Fournier, places the tray of Cornish hens down on the table smartly. “These look lovely.”
“Thank you Madame,” he replies. His voice is deep and monotone, brittle around the edges from too many years spent yelling at assistants. Silently he places a small hen on each of their plates before replacing the silver cover over the tray. “Bon appétit.” He disappears back into the kitchen.
“I presume you already told him yes.”
“I did.” Treize watches as she efficiently cuts into the chicken. Juice with faint traces of blood ooze out and the meat looks raw and bleeding. Her light eyes lift to regard him. “You will be on your best behavior Treize. You are the head of this family, or will be one day soon. I will not have you embarrassing yourself or your father’s, may he rest in peace, name. Is that understood?”
“Yes, of course Mother.” His eyes turn to his own bird and he sighs. “Tell Chef that it looks delectable but I am not feeling well. I will see you in the morning. Good night Mother.”
He starts to stand but her voice cuts in. “You have not been excused, Treize.”
“Quite right, but since I am the head as you just pointed out I no longer need permission, do I?” He smiles at her, pats her chilled hand, and stands fully. “Enjoy your meal, Mother.”
He leaves the dining room and heads out onto the back terrace. The garden is illuminated with the soft glow of iron lamps and he can hear the Mediterranean churning just out of sight. Every so often the moon drifts out from behind the clouds and catches on the restless water. He leans against the iron railing and stares out into the dark.
The wind brings with it the last traces of summer laced with the icy breath of winter. He can just make out the spot where he, Zechs, and Dorothy had made the bonfire just a few months ago. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth and his knuckles turn white from the grip he has on the banister as he remembers.
--
Instructor Halice is grinning at them. It isn’t a pleasant look on him. He has a thin, pointed face with a thin, pointed nose, thin lips, and squinty eyes that are always narrowed suspiciously - usually in their direction. Lieutenant Roux stands next to him, his eyebrows drawn together in a V as he frowns at them.
“Well, what have you to say for yourselves?” the lieutenant demands. His arms cross over his thick chest as he stares down at them. Incredibly, he’s more intimidating than the instructor standing at nearly seven feet tall with dark eyes and clenched teeth. He never speaks, only barks.
“Expulsion,” Halice recommends next to him. “They broke Rule 12 in the Lake Victoria Academy of Academic and Student Conduct Book.”
“We didn’t do anything!” Noin exclaims finally. Her violet eyes are narrowed to a point that rivals Halice’s squinty looks. “That’s a stupid rule anyway.”
“Cadet Noin!” Lieutenant Roux barks. “You will speak civilly or not at all, is that understood?” Her mouth sets into a firm, thin line as she glares up at the commander of the school. “Cadet!”
“You told me not so speak if I couldn’t be civil, Sir.”
Zechs’ lips quirk up into a smile and he glances at her out of the corner of his eye. Her small hands are fisted at her sides and her head is tilted back in defiance. “Do you find this amusing, Cadet Merquise?”
“No, Sir,” he answers softly. “Noin’s right though, we were just studying for the Biology test Instructor Drei is giving us on Friday.”
“That is all well and good Cadets, but as Instructor Halice has noted, Rule 12 of the Lake Victoria Academy of Academic and Student Conduct Book has clearly been broken. Under no circumstances should a member of the female gender be present in the male dormitories. Nor,” he continues when Noin opens her mouth, “should a male be in the female dormitories. If you two are to study then stick to the common areas or better yet, the library.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Noin exclaims. “Zechs is my best friend, why can’t I visit his room?”
“They are clearly disregarding our rules, Lieutenant,” the instructor comments. “Expulsion is best; it will teach them not to question authority…”
“Enough, Halice. You may go; you two may take a seat.” Instructor Halice shoots them one last gleeful look before disappearing out the door. Lieutenant Roux takes a seat behind his desk. Noin and Zechs take the two chairs across from him. “You two have a penchant for upsetting Instructor Halice,” he growls.
“Now, I do not care. Rules are rules. The only way that I will allow this to be broken is if you get permission prior to the event and leave the door open. Is this understood? I would hate to lose not just one but two talented students because they would not follow protocol.”
“Yes, Sir,” they both answer quickly.
“I would suspend you both but I know that both Treize Khushrenada and Duke Dermail are interested in your continued progress. Do not let this happen again. You are both to report to Detention for the remainder of term and rest assured you each will lose twenty-five merits. Dismissed!”
--
“You remind me of your mother more and more each day, Thea.” She looks over to where her father leans against the doorframe to her bedroom. He smiles at her but it doesn’t reach his eyes anymore. He has a box in his hands, wrapped up in pink paper and a glittery bow.
“What’s that?”
“Brought you a gift for your grandfather’s party tonight.” He sits next to her on the bed and deposits the box into her lap. Her fingers skim the edges of the wrapping lightly. “Go on, open it.”
Carefully she removes the tape and slides the white box out of the paper. She removes the lid and pushes aside the equally pink tissue paper to reveal a deep green velvet dress. On top of it sits a headband the same color and material as the dress only it is sprinkled with tiny white gems.
“Those are real diamonds there. Only the best for my little girl.” She can sense him staring at her as her fingers rub the smooth material absently. “Do you like it?”
“It’s very pretty,” she admits softly.
“Is something the matter, Thea?” Alexander questions. He lifts her chin and studies her eyes. “You’ve been distant since your mother’s passing. Do you want to talk to someone?”
“I do not need to talk to anybody,” she retorts. Her eyes dart away from his though and a moment later his hand is on her shoulder.
“I miss her too, Thea. Every day. But I remember her smile and her laugh, the way she walked and how she smelled. It helps. Find something to help you cope with her loss, Dorothy.”
“Does it really help you?” she asks softly. Her eyes search his face but it closes off suddenly.
“Get dressed. The guests will be arriving within the hour.” He pats her shoulder and then leans forward to kiss her forehead. “I will see you downstairs.”
--
Treize watches as she dances with first her father and then their grandfather. Her smile is wide and bright but her eyes look calculating and quick. By the time the orchestra switches songs he knows she has the entire congregation of party goers memorized. He smiles as she approaches him.
“Dorothy.”
“Treize.” They stand there for a moment and he catches sight of the locket around her neck. Her eyes flick behind him and her smile widens. “Zechs.”
“Hello Dorothy, it’s good to see you again.”
“Of course it is.” Her eyes sparkle and Treize raises an eyebrow at her. She ignores his look and twirls a curl around her finger until her cousin reaches out and pins it behind her ear. Her eyes flit to Treize’s and she raises an eyebrow. “I did not expect to see you here.”
“Of course I’d be here. Mother said we’d come.” As one they all look over to where Aria is laughing with Lord Willard Dubiel. Dorothy shudders and turns her attention back to the boys. “How has Grandfather been treating you?”
“Well enough. I am the favorite.” Her voice is smugger than she feels and she’s grateful for that. Zechs chuckles as Treize’s face darkens.
“Lighten up, Treize,” Zechs admonishes. He nudges Treize and smiles at him. “You know she’s only teasing.”
“Of course she is.” His eyes narrow as he takes Dorothy’s arm in hand. She frowns back at him. “And how are your lessons.”
“Well enough,” she repeats. She wrenches her arm free. “You’ll crinkle my new dress.” Dorothy’s face pales suddenly and Treize turns to see what’s caught her attention. Aria and Lord Dubiel approach. Aria smiles at the three of them.
“Willard, this is my son, Treize. Of course you know Dorothy. And this is Zechs, a friend of Treize’s. He’s at Lake Victoria Academy.”
“Is he now? Well, that’s very good.” Lord Dubiel runs a hand through his dark hair and smiles charmingly at them. “Miss Dorothy, I was wondering if you would grace me with a dance.”
“I would be delighted.” She smiles up at him as he takes her hand, leading her out onto the dance floor. His hand is sweaty and she fights to keep her nose from wrinkling. He’s clumsy on his feet as well and she grimaces as his oversized shoes squish her feet.
“Terribly sorry,” he repeats. “Can’t keep up with a dainty elf like you.”
“Don’t worry; I’m used to dancing with Treize.” He chuckles at that and gives her a little spin. She giggles and then quickly schools her face into one of polite interest. “Are you enjoying Grandfather’s party?”
“Yes, the food is wonderful and the company enchanting.” He offers her another smile that she returns halfheartedly. When they pass the spot they’d started from she notices that Zechs and Treize have disappeared again. Despite herself she feels a pang of sorrow. “And what about you, are you enjoying yourself?”
“Oh, yes. It’s a wonderful party.”
--
Zechs tugs at his hair nervously before straightening his shoulders and clasping his hands firmly behind his back. Treize stands in front of him, scrutinizing him from across the coffee table. He had been led into the library fifteen minutes ago and since then Treize had not spoken to him once. Zechs can feel the nervousness crawling up the inside of his stomach. He swallows hard.
“Do you like Thea, Zechs?” Treize finally asks. His face is neutral, giving no hint to the motivation behind his question. Zechs blinks back at him owlishly.
“Dorothy’s okay. She’s had a rough patch.”
“There’s no doubt that Dorothy is…troubled,” Treize murmurs. “My question though was do you like her.”
“I guess. She’s okay,” Zechs repeats. His fingers fiddle with the back of his suit jacket. Treize lifts an eyebrow and studies him silently. Zechs’s eyes widen as he finally gets the meaning behind the words. “Wait, you mean as…as in romantically?” When Treize remains silent Zechs chuckles softly before surrendering to the laughter and doubling over.
“I’ll take that as a no then?”
“Have you gone round the bend?” he demands. His chest heaves as he intakes much needed oxygen. “She’s three years younger than me! I think of her as a sister, a friend. I am not…I’m too young to even think of her that way!” he protests.
Treize nods and sits, waving for Zechs to do the same. “I simply wanted to be sure.” He leaves out his suspicions that Dorothy’s feelings are not quite so amicable. Or that he feels Zechs’s are possibly deeper than he’s admitting. For now it doesn’t matter. “Now, I have received word that Dorothy has fallen out of favor with my grandfather. It seems the old man is turning his attentions to Timothy.”
“Does Dorothy know?”
“I’m not sure at the moment. She doesn’t seem to but that means nothing these days.” He retrieves a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “This is a list of students currently enrolled at Lake Victoria. I would like your help in contacting them to see about their interests in Specials. Discretely. We don’t need you in any more trouble with Halice or Roux.” A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.
“That was a onetime incident,” Zechs protests. “We did nothing wrong, they overreacted.”
“Of course. And I had to pull favors; you both owe me, Milliardo.” Zechs glowers but Treize ignores him. “Once you’ve finished contacting them just destroy the list. In fact if you can memorize it and then destroy it then that would be even better.”
“Of course.” He smirks as he stretches his legs out to rest on the wooden coffee table. His dress shoes leave scuff marks on the polished surface. It seems to brighten Treize’s mood considerably. “Anything else, Your Excellency?” he mocks.
“Well, you could dance with my cousin.” Zechs chuckles drily as he places the folded up paper in his inside jacket pocket.