032
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Underage drinking.
Characters: Dorothy, Treize, Zechs.
Note: Chapter four. This is posted a bit earlier since the previous was posted a bit later.
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: Five: Summer
Chapter Summary: In which Zechs plays chess, Treize is reprimanded, and Dorothy relaxes.
Her fingers still on the keys when the door opens. The footsteps are soft, graceful, without turning her head she knows it is Aria. Her aunt approaches and sits quietly on the bench next to her. Her strawberry blonde hair is beginning to show hints of silvery grey in it. Idly Dorothy wonders if Lilla’s would also now.
“How have you been Dorothy?” Aria asks finally.
“Very well and how have you been?” she replies immediately. Aria turns her head, stares at her from blue eyes just a shade darker than her mother’s. She turns to regard the sheet music spread out before her.
“I have been well. I’m happy to have you in my home Thea.” Her fingers tremble softly on the keys until she orders them mentally to stop. “How is Tim?”
“Good I guess.” She shrugs her shoulders absently. “He has a nurse and Grandfather says I’m too busy to see him anyway. I can hear him cry sometimes.”
“Ah.” She looks up to see Aria frowning slightly. When her aunt notices her look she smiles and brushes back a strand of Dorothy’s pale hair. “Why aren’t you out in the sun playing with Zechs and Treize? Have they shut you out?”
She wonders if it would be easier to say that they did, but she knows the lie will be bitter on her tongue. No matter her cousin’s faults, he has never turned her away from tagging along. “No,” she answers easily. A smile is forced pleasantly onto her mouth. “Grandfather says I’ll turn red and freckled if I stay out too long.”
“Psh,” Aria laughs. “You are my guest this summer Dorothy. My father has no claim over you at the moment. Go on out, I’m sure you’ll have more fun in the ocean than in here.” And then she hugs her niece and Dorothy sits, frozen, shocked. “I have missed seeing you Dorothy.”
She waits until Aria has left before turning to stare out the large windows overlooking the Mediterranean. The water is sparkling and deep and she lets out a wistful sigh. “Still locked up in here?”
She jumps, and turns to face the doorway. Zechs is leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets and sunglasses pushed up on top of his head for once. She smiles faintly at him. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen your actual face,” she responds. She smirks as he reaches up and feels for the glasses on his head. “They’re still there, don’t worry. Shouldn’t you be with Treize?”
“Shouldn’t you be shooting something?” he counters, entering the room.
“That does sound enticing.” He chuckles and she grins, turning on the wooden bench to face him fully. “Does Treize know where you are?”
“Yes,” he replies. “He understands that there’s only so much one can do on a yacht.”
“Of course,” Dorothy agrees with a smile. “The mail came; you got a letter from Miss Noin.” He nods and she raises an eyebrow. “I get the feeling that you’re plotting something, and that something involves me. Please don’t.”
He lunges and she shrieks as he picks her up bodily. At that moment Treize appears in the doorway, watching them. “Oh, good, you found her Zechs. I was afraid that the house had swallowed her up.”
“Nearly, I think she glued herself to the piano bench for all the force I had to use to lift her.”
Treize smirks. “Or Grandfather’s been feeding her too often.”
“Zechs Merquise, put me down this instant!” she yells. She tugs at his hair and he glares, tipping her further over his shoulder. “Are you going to help me?” she demands, glaring at Treize.
“I would, but it’s so much fun watching you like this.”
“You’re cruel!”
“Come now Thea, have a little fun. It is the summer after all.” He backs out as Zechs approaches. “What do you suppose we do with her?”
She pales as she watches the smiles appear on both boys’ faces. “Put me down!”
--
She shivers beneath Zech’s jacket as Treize pokes at the fire. Earlier, Treize had led the way out to the dock where Zechs had tossed her into the Mediterranean. She had surfaced spluttering and cursing to the amusement of both boys and the nearby maintenance workers. She had gotten her revenge though. She smiles now as she remembers splashing the both of them. It had been particularly joyful to watch Treize’s clothes become soaked through.
Now it is night though and Zechs had been the one to suggest the fire. They had stolen food from the kitchen and Treize had once again procured wine (neither of them questioned from where). Zechs glances at her and she glares at him. His sunglasses are broken from when she snapped them in anger. He deserved it though, even if it had been fun.
“You okay?”
“Freezing.”
“It was your idea to jump in the Sea after supper.”
“Well, I’d already been in once,” she mutters. Treize laughs and she throws a rock at him. It misses but then again, she hadn’t really been aiming for him.
“Your nose is sunburned,” Zechs informs her. He smiles and she rolls her eyes. She knows it’s sunburned. Just as she knows her arms are freckled and her cheeks are red.
“And your face is sunburned too,” she retorts. He glares and Treize smirks. They both consider it highly unfair that her cousin escaped without even the hint of sunburn. Instead he is pleasantly tan. Dorothy groans and pulls the jacket tighter as the night gets colder. “Who has the wine?”
“Zechs,” Treize replies. “He usually hogs it.” Zechs glares and Treize ignores him.
“Mm, figures,” Dorothy murmurs. She steals the wine while the boys fight silently. She lets the bottle settle into the sand and rocks of the beach and flops backward onto the grass she’s lounging on. The stars are endless above her and she sighs happily. “I’ve missed this,” she admits drowsily. The fire is warm against her bare feet and the jacket smells pleasantly of cinnamon and salt. Absently she registers Treize taking the wine back.
“Have you?” Treize asks. He glances at his cousin, his eyes unreadable.
“Yes. I have missed spending the summers with you,” she murmurs sleepily. “It’s…calming and pleasant…and right.” She smiles at Zechs and he smiles back. “I wish it would always stay like this.”
“Everything changes Thea,” Treize murmurs. “Life is about change.”
“Oh, shut-up Treize and stop hogging the wine,” Dorothy snaps. Zechs laughs as she scowls.
“It’s too rich for you.” He settles back against a twisted tree and looks out to sea. Dorothy narrows her eyes and leans across Zechs, trying to swipe it from her older cousin. “No, Dorothy.” He narrows his eyes at her in return.
“Oh, let her have some,” Zechs laughs. He leans over Dorothy’s reaching form and easily grasps the bottle. “Here,” he said.
“Thank you. It’s good to see that some sort of chivalry exists. I was beginning to fear that the entire race of gentlemen was extinct.” She smirks around the wine bottle and sighs contentedly. She ignores the look Treize sends her and focuses on the stars above. “Space looks pretty from here. It’s a shame Grandfather is going to destroy it.” She laughs, ignoring the looks the boys are sending her.
--
“You’re too kind to her,” Treize murmurs. Zechs frowns, following the older boy down the hallway. Dorothy is curled up in Treize’s arms, passed out from too much wine and sun. Probably fresh air too, now that he thinks about it. Zechs moves ahead, opening the door to the room she is sleeping in.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He pulls back the covers while Treize sets her down. She sighs a little and turns over. Zechs reaches down, pushing back her hair. “What?” he demands when Treize eyes him.
“Nothing.” Zechs frowns as Treize drapes the covers over her. “Come on, before she wakes up.” They leave her room and Zechs follows Treize once again. They are heading to the small library on the second floor apparently. He opens his mouth once or twice but Treize ignores him, frowning into the half-darkness.
“What’s wrong?” he asks finally. Treize pokes at the fire, watching it spark to life, and then sits down on the floor in front of it. Zechs hesitates before sitting down next to him. The fire feels nice, warming skin chilled by wind and sea spray.
“Nothing,” Treize repeats. He shakes his head and pokes the fire with the iron. “Have you noticed the change, Zechs?”
“In Dorothy?” Treize nods and Zechs shrugs in response. “Her mother just died eight months ago,” Zechs protests. “Of course she’d change. I did.”
Treize glances at him but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t point out that it was both his parents, that they had been murdered. He doesn’t mention the staff that was killed, the kingdom that was ransacked, or the childhood friends that were slain. He doesn’t bring up the loss of his sister.
“She’ll be fine,” Zechs finally adds.
--
The rain is falling steadily now, no longer the light drizzle from earlier. Treize lounges idly on the window seat, his head against the cold glass. His eyes watch as the black car passes in and out of sight as it moves along the driveway toward the house. He frowns as it pulls to a stop in front of the house and one of the servants dashes out with a black umbrella held high over the older man’s head.
His eyes narrow slightly as he watches his grandfather enter the car.
“Hm…Knight to E5,” Dorothy murmurs quietly behind him. She and Zechs have been playing chess for the past hour and a half. He waits until the car pulls away before he stands suddenly, crosses the room and opens the door.
Zechs looks up, frowning. “Where are you going?”
Treize offers a smile. “Just for a walk.”
“Oh, good, could you bring me back a soda from the kitchen?” Dorothy asks. She looks up, her bottom lip pulled in between her teeth.
“You’ll get an overbite,” Treize responds. She glares and he smiles slightly. “All right.”
He walks leisurely through the halls, his hands shoved into his pockets. No one pays him any attention and he is grateful. The rain slaps the glass of the windows the servants are cleaning and he sighs. Rain always makes him feel melancholy. At last he comes to his destination. He hesitates a moment before knocking loudly on the door.
“Come in,” a tired voice answers. He enters the room and smiles when his mother looked up at his reflection in the mirror. Her reflection smiles back. “Ah, Treize, Dear, how are you?” She continues to brush her fair hair, watching him curiously.
The sitting room is full with the scent of roses. Looking around he can see fresh cut yellow, red, and pink roses in vases on every surface. He moves out of the mirror’s line of sight, looking at the various paintings on the wall. Aria sets the silver-plated brush on the vanity and picks up the bottle of rose perfume, spritzing a light mist around her.
“Treize?” she repeats. She turns to look at him.
“What did he want?” he asks finally. It bothers him that he isn’t able to keep his voice neutral.
Aria sighs softly, standing slowly. She approaches, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Don’t speak like that Treize. He is your grandfather after all… He has our best interests at heart.” He snorts and she glares. “Treize Oberon Gabriel James Khushrenada, you do not disrespect anyone like that, let alone your grandfather. Is that understood?”
“Of course, Mother.” He turns to her and smiles. “However, I find it increasingly difficult to think that Grandfather has our interests at heart.” He takes her hand and looks at her earnestly. “Especially after Father’s death.”
“Treize, please, not this again.” She laughs lightly and ruffles his hair affectionately. “Where are Thea and Zechs at?”
“Chess,” he replies. He watches as Aria returns to her vanity, sorting through her jewelry. “Are you going out tonight?”
She nods slightly, fingering the ruby necklace thoughtfully. “Yes. Your grandfather has requested my appearance at Romefeller tonight.” She frowns at his reflection. “Treize I do not want to see that look on your face again.” Deftly she slips the ruby studs in her ears. “You must understand our position now Treize. Landry is dead; you are too young to inherit yet. We rely on my father for support.”
“I find that archaic.”
She shrugs as she clasps the matching necklace around her neck. “This is the world I was born into, the same world you have been born into. I know you’re upset that your grandfather won’t let you head the Alliance. You’re too young at the moment though. He should have instated a guardian until you came of age. Not passed it on to someone else, what he’s done is wrong.” She sets the hair pins on the tabletop violently. “He should not have overlooked you.”
“Yet you still welcome him with open arms.”
“Treize, please. If you want to control Romefeller one day learn to curb your tongue and do it quickly. Wear a mask like Zechs does and you’ll go far in their world.” She stands again, heading to her closet and sorting her dresses. She stops, turning to face him. Her eyebrows are drawn together, her hands clasping the hanger of one of the garments. “Please Treize, you have to understand politics. It isn’t as simple as parties and smiles. Think of it like war - you have to have strategy, allies, know when to feint and when to attack.”
“Of course, Mother.”
“Treize…” The clock on the mantle chimes and she glances at it. “I have to get ready but this isn’t over.” She looks at him hard. “Just remember what I said, alright?”
He nods, bowing slightly before leaving. She stands there for a moment more before sighing and returning to her dresses.
--
It had been Dorothy’s idea to take the yacht out. The day is clear after almost a week straight of constant rain. Treize is sipping something out of a blue glass, staring out at the ocean; Dorothy is lying on a towel across the nose of the boat. Zechs sits with his legs dangling between the railings, toes just skimming the water. In his hand is the letter that arrived for him that morning.
“Relena wishes to see me again,” Dorothy sighs. She turns over onto her stomach, letting her arm dangle over the side. “Her mother invited me to afternoon tea.” Her nose wrinkles and she sits up abruptly. “I hate tea.”
“Be quiet Thea,” Treize comments, watching as Zechs’s shoulders tighten.
“What, I thought you’d be interested.” Her bottom lip pouts slightly as she looks up at him but her eyes are calculating. “I obviously did a good job with her.”
“Obviously,” Zechs replies shortly.
“I’m still not sure why I had to. She’s only Darlian’s brat.”
Zechs stands and disappears into the cabin. Dorothy sniffs but she is smiling as she tilts her head to see her cousin better from under the sunhat Aria had forced on her. Slowly she stretches her pale arms out in front of her, frowning at the freckles speckling them.
“Must you needle him?” Treize demands. He sets the glass down on the table and frowns at her. She shrugs and runs her fingers over the ridges of the thick French braid.
“It’s not my fault he has paper for skin,” she retorts icily. “It’s not my fault he’s infatuated with her. Next I’ll have to shadow Miss Noin, right?”
“She reminds him of his sister,” Treize replies quietly.
She stands and looks out at the sea and the house sitting on the coast in the distance. “It’s like we’re the only ones in the world,” she hums, ignoring him for a moment.
Zechs returns, before Treize can respond, sans letter. Treize raises an eyebrow glancing between the younger boy and the cabin but Zechs avoids his eyes. Instead he leans on the rail next to Dorothy and stares at the too-blue water.
“Will you meet with her?” he asks softly.
She hesitates a moment before placing a hand on his. “Do you want me to?”
“Yes. I think it would be best if she had allies in Romefeller, in case someone thinks she resembles Relena Peacecraft a little too much, and you’re a good one.” His lips quirk into a smile and he tugs on her braid. “Even if you are a pain.” Her eyes narrow and he chuckles drily. “Thank you Dorothy.”
“Oh, don’t think I’m doing it out of niceness.”
“Never,” Zechs agrees with a fond smile.
“And who cares if she resembles your sister?” she adds. “Everyone knows she died in that fire.” His face turns impassive but she doesn’t notice. “So the Vice Foreign Minister decided to name her after the girl, so what? Everyone in Romefeller is named after someone after all.” She pulls off her hat and sets it on her towel followed by her sandals and over sized sunglasses. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She swings her legs over the rail and dives in.
“You shouldn’t swim by yourself!” Treize calls.
“You’re up there, not that I’d trust you two to save me if I started to drown,” she snorts. “You’re probably going to play grown-up and talk like I’m not there. So I’d rather enjoy myself as it were.”
“It amazes me that she knows us so well,” Zechs chuckles drily. Treize smiles as well and they turn away from the rail and the ocean (they both know she is adept at reading lips when she wants to).
“You’re still angry about the ball, aren’t you?” Treize questions softly. His voice is masked by the waves and Dorothy’s splashing. “You wanted me to decline Relena’s inclusion.”
“Yes.” His hands are clenched around the rail behind him so that the knuckles are white. “At first,” he amends. “But I meant what I said before to Dorothy. If things…” He takes a breath and stares at the white cabin across from them. “You know how they act more than I do. She has…She has the same name that my sister did.”
“Ah, yes. But she doesn’t look a thing like you,” Treize replies. He raises an eyebrow as Zechs stares at the floor. “Something the matter?”
“No.” He takes a deep breath and turns to stare at the house on the horizon. “If things go…wrong though,” he says slowly. “If they do think she’s a survivor, she’ll need someone other than the Darlians to support her. Dorothy could do that.”
“If she doesn’t throw her to the wolves first,” Treize chuckles drily. Zechs turns, glaring. “Ah, but I’m sure she won’t of course. It’s not in her nature.” He turns his head slightly to look at her. She’s floating on her back, her eyes closed and face tilted to the sun. “She likes to use them first, manipulate them for her own purposes before she discards them.”
“Just like you then,” Zechs responds.
“Ah, you’ve caught on then,” Treize comments idly.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Underage drinking.
Characters: Dorothy, Treize, Zechs.
Note: Chapter four. This is posted a bit earlier since the previous was posted a bit later.
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: Five: Summer
Chapter Summary: In which Zechs plays chess, Treize is reprimanded, and Dorothy relaxes.
Her fingers still on the keys when the door opens. The footsteps are soft, graceful, without turning her head she knows it is Aria. Her aunt approaches and sits quietly on the bench next to her. Her strawberry blonde hair is beginning to show hints of silvery grey in it. Idly Dorothy wonders if Lilla’s would also now.
“How have you been Dorothy?” Aria asks finally.
“Very well and how have you been?” she replies immediately. Aria turns her head, stares at her from blue eyes just a shade darker than her mother’s. She turns to regard the sheet music spread out before her.
“I have been well. I’m happy to have you in my home Thea.” Her fingers tremble softly on the keys until she orders them mentally to stop. “How is Tim?”
“Good I guess.” She shrugs her shoulders absently. “He has a nurse and Grandfather says I’m too busy to see him anyway. I can hear him cry sometimes.”
“Ah.” She looks up to see Aria frowning slightly. When her aunt notices her look she smiles and brushes back a strand of Dorothy’s pale hair. “Why aren’t you out in the sun playing with Zechs and Treize? Have they shut you out?”
She wonders if it would be easier to say that they did, but she knows the lie will be bitter on her tongue. No matter her cousin’s faults, he has never turned her away from tagging along. “No,” she answers easily. A smile is forced pleasantly onto her mouth. “Grandfather says I’ll turn red and freckled if I stay out too long.”
“Psh,” Aria laughs. “You are my guest this summer Dorothy. My father has no claim over you at the moment. Go on out, I’m sure you’ll have more fun in the ocean than in here.” And then she hugs her niece and Dorothy sits, frozen, shocked. “I have missed seeing you Dorothy.”
She waits until Aria has left before turning to stare out the large windows overlooking the Mediterranean. The water is sparkling and deep and she lets out a wistful sigh. “Still locked up in here?”
She jumps, and turns to face the doorway. Zechs is leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets and sunglasses pushed up on top of his head for once. She smiles faintly at him. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen your actual face,” she responds. She smirks as he reaches up and feels for the glasses on his head. “They’re still there, don’t worry. Shouldn’t you be with Treize?”
“Shouldn’t you be shooting something?” he counters, entering the room.
“That does sound enticing.” He chuckles and she grins, turning on the wooden bench to face him fully. “Does Treize know where you are?”
“Yes,” he replies. “He understands that there’s only so much one can do on a yacht.”
“Of course,” Dorothy agrees with a smile. “The mail came; you got a letter from Miss Noin.” He nods and she raises an eyebrow. “I get the feeling that you’re plotting something, and that something involves me. Please don’t.”
He lunges and she shrieks as he picks her up bodily. At that moment Treize appears in the doorway, watching them. “Oh, good, you found her Zechs. I was afraid that the house had swallowed her up.”
“Nearly, I think she glued herself to the piano bench for all the force I had to use to lift her.”
Treize smirks. “Or Grandfather’s been feeding her too often.”
“Zechs Merquise, put me down this instant!” she yells. She tugs at his hair and he glares, tipping her further over his shoulder. “Are you going to help me?” she demands, glaring at Treize.
“I would, but it’s so much fun watching you like this.”
“You’re cruel!”
“Come now Thea, have a little fun. It is the summer after all.” He backs out as Zechs approaches. “What do you suppose we do with her?”
She pales as she watches the smiles appear on both boys’ faces. “Put me down!”
--
She shivers beneath Zech’s jacket as Treize pokes at the fire. Earlier, Treize had led the way out to the dock where Zechs had tossed her into the Mediterranean. She had surfaced spluttering and cursing to the amusement of both boys and the nearby maintenance workers. She had gotten her revenge though. She smiles now as she remembers splashing the both of them. It had been particularly joyful to watch Treize’s clothes become soaked through.
Now it is night though and Zechs had been the one to suggest the fire. They had stolen food from the kitchen and Treize had once again procured wine (neither of them questioned from where). Zechs glances at her and she glares at him. His sunglasses are broken from when she snapped them in anger. He deserved it though, even if it had been fun.
“You okay?”
“Freezing.”
“It was your idea to jump in the Sea after supper.”
“Well, I’d already been in once,” she mutters. Treize laughs and she throws a rock at him. It misses but then again, she hadn’t really been aiming for him.
“Your nose is sunburned,” Zechs informs her. He smiles and she rolls her eyes. She knows it’s sunburned. Just as she knows her arms are freckled and her cheeks are red.
“And your face is sunburned too,” she retorts. He glares and Treize smirks. They both consider it highly unfair that her cousin escaped without even the hint of sunburn. Instead he is pleasantly tan. Dorothy groans and pulls the jacket tighter as the night gets colder. “Who has the wine?”
“Zechs,” Treize replies. “He usually hogs it.” Zechs glares and Treize ignores him.
“Mm, figures,” Dorothy murmurs. She steals the wine while the boys fight silently. She lets the bottle settle into the sand and rocks of the beach and flops backward onto the grass she’s lounging on. The stars are endless above her and she sighs happily. “I’ve missed this,” she admits drowsily. The fire is warm against her bare feet and the jacket smells pleasantly of cinnamon and salt. Absently she registers Treize taking the wine back.
“Have you?” Treize asks. He glances at his cousin, his eyes unreadable.
“Yes. I have missed spending the summers with you,” she murmurs sleepily. “It’s…calming and pleasant…and right.” She smiles at Zechs and he smiles back. “I wish it would always stay like this.”
“Everything changes Thea,” Treize murmurs. “Life is about change.”
“Oh, shut-up Treize and stop hogging the wine,” Dorothy snaps. Zechs laughs as she scowls.
“It’s too rich for you.” He settles back against a twisted tree and looks out to sea. Dorothy narrows her eyes and leans across Zechs, trying to swipe it from her older cousin. “No, Dorothy.” He narrows his eyes at her in return.
“Oh, let her have some,” Zechs laughs. He leans over Dorothy’s reaching form and easily grasps the bottle. “Here,” he said.
“Thank you. It’s good to see that some sort of chivalry exists. I was beginning to fear that the entire race of gentlemen was extinct.” She smirks around the wine bottle and sighs contentedly. She ignores the look Treize sends her and focuses on the stars above. “Space looks pretty from here. It’s a shame Grandfather is going to destroy it.” She laughs, ignoring the looks the boys are sending her.
--
“You’re too kind to her,” Treize murmurs. Zechs frowns, following the older boy down the hallway. Dorothy is curled up in Treize’s arms, passed out from too much wine and sun. Probably fresh air too, now that he thinks about it. Zechs moves ahead, opening the door to the room she is sleeping in.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He pulls back the covers while Treize sets her down. She sighs a little and turns over. Zechs reaches down, pushing back her hair. “What?” he demands when Treize eyes him.
“Nothing.” Zechs frowns as Treize drapes the covers over her. “Come on, before she wakes up.” They leave her room and Zechs follows Treize once again. They are heading to the small library on the second floor apparently. He opens his mouth once or twice but Treize ignores him, frowning into the half-darkness.
“What’s wrong?” he asks finally. Treize pokes at the fire, watching it spark to life, and then sits down on the floor in front of it. Zechs hesitates before sitting down next to him. The fire feels nice, warming skin chilled by wind and sea spray.
“Nothing,” Treize repeats. He shakes his head and pokes the fire with the iron. “Have you noticed the change, Zechs?”
“In Dorothy?” Treize nods and Zechs shrugs in response. “Her mother just died eight months ago,” Zechs protests. “Of course she’d change. I did.”
Treize glances at him but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t point out that it was both his parents, that they had been murdered. He doesn’t mention the staff that was killed, the kingdom that was ransacked, or the childhood friends that were slain. He doesn’t bring up the loss of his sister.
“She’ll be fine,” Zechs finally adds.
--
The rain is falling steadily now, no longer the light drizzle from earlier. Treize lounges idly on the window seat, his head against the cold glass. His eyes watch as the black car passes in and out of sight as it moves along the driveway toward the house. He frowns as it pulls to a stop in front of the house and one of the servants dashes out with a black umbrella held high over the older man’s head.
His eyes narrow slightly as he watches his grandfather enter the car.
“Hm…Knight to E5,” Dorothy murmurs quietly behind him. She and Zechs have been playing chess for the past hour and a half. He waits until the car pulls away before he stands suddenly, crosses the room and opens the door.
Zechs looks up, frowning. “Where are you going?”
Treize offers a smile. “Just for a walk.”
“Oh, good, could you bring me back a soda from the kitchen?” Dorothy asks. She looks up, her bottom lip pulled in between her teeth.
“You’ll get an overbite,” Treize responds. She glares and he smiles slightly. “All right.”
He walks leisurely through the halls, his hands shoved into his pockets. No one pays him any attention and he is grateful. The rain slaps the glass of the windows the servants are cleaning and he sighs. Rain always makes him feel melancholy. At last he comes to his destination. He hesitates a moment before knocking loudly on the door.
“Come in,” a tired voice answers. He enters the room and smiles when his mother looked up at his reflection in the mirror. Her reflection smiles back. “Ah, Treize, Dear, how are you?” She continues to brush her fair hair, watching him curiously.
The sitting room is full with the scent of roses. Looking around he can see fresh cut yellow, red, and pink roses in vases on every surface. He moves out of the mirror’s line of sight, looking at the various paintings on the wall. Aria sets the silver-plated brush on the vanity and picks up the bottle of rose perfume, spritzing a light mist around her.
“Treize?” she repeats. She turns to look at him.
“What did he want?” he asks finally. It bothers him that he isn’t able to keep his voice neutral.
Aria sighs softly, standing slowly. She approaches, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Don’t speak like that Treize. He is your grandfather after all… He has our best interests at heart.” He snorts and she glares. “Treize Oberon Gabriel James Khushrenada, you do not disrespect anyone like that, let alone your grandfather. Is that understood?”
“Of course, Mother.” He turns to her and smiles. “However, I find it increasingly difficult to think that Grandfather has our interests at heart.” He takes her hand and looks at her earnestly. “Especially after Father’s death.”
“Treize, please, not this again.” She laughs lightly and ruffles his hair affectionately. “Where are Thea and Zechs at?”
“Chess,” he replies. He watches as Aria returns to her vanity, sorting through her jewelry. “Are you going out tonight?”
She nods slightly, fingering the ruby necklace thoughtfully. “Yes. Your grandfather has requested my appearance at Romefeller tonight.” She frowns at his reflection. “Treize I do not want to see that look on your face again.” Deftly she slips the ruby studs in her ears. “You must understand our position now Treize. Landry is dead; you are too young to inherit yet. We rely on my father for support.”
“I find that archaic.”
She shrugs as she clasps the matching necklace around her neck. “This is the world I was born into, the same world you have been born into. I know you’re upset that your grandfather won’t let you head the Alliance. You’re too young at the moment though. He should have instated a guardian until you came of age. Not passed it on to someone else, what he’s done is wrong.” She sets the hair pins on the tabletop violently. “He should not have overlooked you.”
“Yet you still welcome him with open arms.”
“Treize, please. If you want to control Romefeller one day learn to curb your tongue and do it quickly. Wear a mask like Zechs does and you’ll go far in their world.” She stands again, heading to her closet and sorting her dresses. She stops, turning to face him. Her eyebrows are drawn together, her hands clasping the hanger of one of the garments. “Please Treize, you have to understand politics. It isn’t as simple as parties and smiles. Think of it like war - you have to have strategy, allies, know when to feint and when to attack.”
“Of course, Mother.”
“Treize…” The clock on the mantle chimes and she glances at it. “I have to get ready but this isn’t over.” She looks at him hard. “Just remember what I said, alright?”
He nods, bowing slightly before leaving. She stands there for a moment more before sighing and returning to her dresses.
--
It had been Dorothy’s idea to take the yacht out. The day is clear after almost a week straight of constant rain. Treize is sipping something out of a blue glass, staring out at the ocean; Dorothy is lying on a towel across the nose of the boat. Zechs sits with his legs dangling between the railings, toes just skimming the water. In his hand is the letter that arrived for him that morning.
“Relena wishes to see me again,” Dorothy sighs. She turns over onto her stomach, letting her arm dangle over the side. “Her mother invited me to afternoon tea.” Her nose wrinkles and she sits up abruptly. “I hate tea.”
“Be quiet Thea,” Treize comments, watching as Zechs’s shoulders tighten.
“What, I thought you’d be interested.” Her bottom lip pouts slightly as she looks up at him but her eyes are calculating. “I obviously did a good job with her.”
“Obviously,” Zechs replies shortly.
“I’m still not sure why I had to. She’s only Darlian’s brat.”
Zechs stands and disappears into the cabin. Dorothy sniffs but she is smiling as she tilts her head to see her cousin better from under the sunhat Aria had forced on her. Slowly she stretches her pale arms out in front of her, frowning at the freckles speckling them.
“Must you needle him?” Treize demands. He sets the glass down on the table and frowns at her. She shrugs and runs her fingers over the ridges of the thick French braid.
“It’s not my fault he has paper for skin,” she retorts icily. “It’s not my fault he’s infatuated with her. Next I’ll have to shadow Miss Noin, right?”
“She reminds him of his sister,” Treize replies quietly.
She stands and looks out at the sea and the house sitting on the coast in the distance. “It’s like we’re the only ones in the world,” she hums, ignoring him for a moment.
Zechs returns, before Treize can respond, sans letter. Treize raises an eyebrow glancing between the younger boy and the cabin but Zechs avoids his eyes. Instead he leans on the rail next to Dorothy and stares at the too-blue water.
“Will you meet with her?” he asks softly.
She hesitates a moment before placing a hand on his. “Do you want me to?”
“Yes. I think it would be best if she had allies in Romefeller, in case someone thinks she resembles Relena Peacecraft a little too much, and you’re a good one.” His lips quirk into a smile and he tugs on her braid. “Even if you are a pain.” Her eyes narrow and he chuckles drily. “Thank you Dorothy.”
“Oh, don’t think I’m doing it out of niceness.”
“Never,” Zechs agrees with a fond smile.
“And who cares if she resembles your sister?” she adds. “Everyone knows she died in that fire.” His face turns impassive but she doesn’t notice. “So the Vice Foreign Minister decided to name her after the girl, so what? Everyone in Romefeller is named after someone after all.” She pulls off her hat and sets it on her towel followed by her sandals and over sized sunglasses. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She swings her legs over the rail and dives in.
“You shouldn’t swim by yourself!” Treize calls.
“You’re up there, not that I’d trust you two to save me if I started to drown,” she snorts. “You’re probably going to play grown-up and talk like I’m not there. So I’d rather enjoy myself as it were.”
“It amazes me that she knows us so well,” Zechs chuckles drily. Treize smiles as well and they turn away from the rail and the ocean (they both know she is adept at reading lips when she wants to).
“You’re still angry about the ball, aren’t you?” Treize questions softly. His voice is masked by the waves and Dorothy’s splashing. “You wanted me to decline Relena’s inclusion.”
“Yes.” His hands are clenched around the rail behind him so that the knuckles are white. “At first,” he amends. “But I meant what I said before to Dorothy. If things…” He takes a breath and stares at the white cabin across from them. “You know how they act more than I do. She has…She has the same name that my sister did.”
“Ah, yes. But she doesn’t look a thing like you,” Treize replies. He raises an eyebrow as Zechs stares at the floor. “Something the matter?”
“No.” He takes a deep breath and turns to stare at the house on the horizon. “If things go…wrong though,” he says slowly. “If they do think she’s a survivor, she’ll need someone other than the Darlians to support her. Dorothy could do that.”
“If she doesn’t throw her to the wolves first,” Treize chuckles drily. Zechs turns, glaring. “Ah, but I’m sure she won’t of course. It’s not in her nature.” He turns his head slightly to look at her. She’s floating on her back, her eyes closed and face tilted to the sun. “She likes to use them first, manipulate them for her own purposes before she discards them.”
“Just like you then,” Zechs responds.
“Ah, you’ve caught on then,” Treize comments idly.