Disclaimer:  Standard Disclaimer
Written By Desert Bloom
Authoresses Note:  I was cruising the web and I found a lot of good Heero and Relena stories.  Suddenly I feel depressed because 'Swiftly Falling World' lacks in that aspect.  So what am I to do?  Of course, I wrote my own HY and RP fic!  This couple is not my favorite, and they're not very easy characters to keep in character.  But I tried my best and thought up this story, and I think it's a decent attempt, so please read!  I'm going to take a little break from Swiftly Falling World to do this.

Title:  White Rose
Part:  Prologue

 The Sanc palace had always been prided on its beautiful gardens.  There was a reason for that, of course.  The people of this lovely
kingdom had always been thought of as peaceful artisans.  Only the best pottery can be found in the region.  The land holds many a blissful painting.  Musical talent blooms in every corner, every aspect of life. Many a talented actor and actress have been discovered here.  This has always helped the economy.  That is one of the three reasons that the Sanc have never known poverty.  The other two is fertile farmland and gracious leaders.  It has always been blessed with dictators that don't dictate.  That is because the bloodline of successors is none other than the Peacecrafts, and a gentler heritage has not been known.
 The young girl knew all this.  She knew for she was Relena Peacecraft, heir to the throne.  One looking at her age and childish appearance would have thought that it was all over for the country.  They would have been wrong.
 She was, however, perhaps too young for her role.  She constantly found herself contradicting herself - she was sure of nothing lately, and that won't do for a leader.  Her eyes, large and curious, little blue pools of hope, were always wide with the flair of youth and innocence.  Her face was still too round for her years of wisdom, and her hair was cut in the latest fashion of the schoolgirls.
 But you could easily see she was born to lead.  Her walk had a bounce to it, but not a giddy one.  Her back was straight for aristocrats can't slack.  She kept her chin up in constant defiance.  Her mouth was puckered into an easing smile and her eyes seemed to spray blue fire. Her hands were at her sides, never waving foolishly in mid-air, for it would take down her superior aura.
 Not that she thought she was superior.  A humbler soul was never found.

 She was in the gardens at the moment, reflecting on their history, taking a breather from her endless paperwork.  So taxing was her work, unfortunately, that she could not relax much, even in the privacy of this serene solitude.  She knew this, but chose to ignore it.  She would force her mind off her job, if she had to!  It may have helped if it had been spring or summer, when the world
recovers from the frost and everything is in full bloom .  It was neither, for the season of fall had laid its golden grip on the kingdom.

 It was still pretty.  Golden red and orange swirled around the gardens, in the form of grass and leaves.  The sky was a lovely blue hue, tinted by the odd white of clouds.  Relena shivered.  The air had a crisp and bitter feel to it.  She listened with pleasure to her feet on the pavement.  Smack.  Smack, smack.  Smack.  Smack, smack.  She grinned to herself, and mused, I may at least have little fun.
 Memories floated back to her of her previous father, Mr. Darlian.  He was long past, and that hurt her.  But this recollection was of a good kind.  Happy.  She remembered when she had been a little tot; barely seven going on eight, and had decided right then and there that she was to be a ballerina, no ifs and no buts.  So of course her father had loved her to the end.

 Therefore, she was soon enrolled in Miss Prescott's fine dancing class.  It had been a learning experience for her.  She had learned that she had bad feet, poor stature, was a bit too plump, and would never be a ballet star.  Good old Miss Prescott!  With her thin form and her nose constantly in the air.  What Relena would give to see her face now, as she discovered that the little girl whose dreams she had dashed was none other than the savior of the one-year-w ar, none other than Queen Relena Peacecraft.

 Of course, that was a long time ago.  She had been seven, and now she was twenty-one.  A difference of fourteen years!  Where had the years gone?
 But now she used these memories to inspire her.  She struck a pose, giggling as she went.  Then she tapped her foot once, twice on the pavement.  Relena mused at how immature she was being, and then discarded that thought.  She might as well live a little!
 "One, two, one, two," she murmured to herself, her feet striking the rock below.  It was a pattern that she had memorized, as she struck first and then second position.  She twirled a bit, waved her hands about in the air, and tried a delicate move where you jump and spin simultaneously.
 She was clumsy, though, and she stumbled, wincing as her knee struck the pavement.  A swerve of imbalance, and she was on the ground.  For a moment she just sat on the ground, a crumpled mass, her right knee stinging painfully.  Tears burned of smarting pain burned at her eyes.
Then she let out a one big guffaw.  She laughed and laughed and laughed until the tears started to run down her cheeks and blur her makeup.  She didn't care!  All the stress that had built up in her for all these years just melted away.
 When done she glanced about for something to help herself up - a bench that she could lean on, anything.  Not finding anything she sucked in her breath, exhaled sharply, and got to her feet with a rocky whirl.
She was about to turn to the castle when she sighted a white blur.  She paused in thought, her head chiming 'snow'!  But that was
impossible.  A second's look showed the skies were as pleasantly  blue as before.  Relena shook her head and leaned in for a closer look.  What she found surprised her.
 Imbedded in a thick layer of leaves was a single solitary white rose.  White roses have in modern times been used to symbolize friendship. Pink roses mean 'I like you' and red roses mean 'Stop!  I am madly in love with you!'  That is modern times.  If you should go back, however, you would learn that white roses first meant true love.  The very first poets described a white rose as good luck with a lover.  Early writers used it to symbolize hope in a difficult time.  One man, whose name and origin is not known, summarized things with the words:  the purest thing on earth is a white rose.  Mythically, a white rose has strong magical powers.
 These thoughts and a thousand more flashed through Relena 's head as she bent to pick up the rose.  After plucking it from the ground, she turned, her long hair moving with her, and went to make accommodations for the rose.

 "Paperwork!" complained Noin loudly as she set down a large stack on the kitchen counter.  Her eyes flashed dark annoyance. "Maurice, do you know how many forms I've filled in the last hour?"  Maurice sighed, straightening his back and peering at her over his spectacles.  He was a solidly built cook, with a short mustache of whitening hair and playful eyes.  He had come highly recommended to the Sanc Palace.  His art was a delicious and beautiful one at that.  He turned from his tub of bubbling stew and wiped his oily hands on his apron.

"No, I don't, miss.  But I'd be thrilled to hear it." He said sarcastically.
 Noin laughed, her pretty eyes crinkling.  She was a good size or two smaller than Maurice, but one wouldn't have noticed.  She was a natural born leader; at least that's how it appeared nowadays.  Maurice had heard rumors of her following a man during the one-year-war, but he couldn't imagine it now.  This woman was not a follower.
 "I'm sorry Maurice.  I guess I do get annoying sometimes, don't I?"
 "No, miss!" he turned back to his soup, took back his ladle, and began to stir. "You work hard!  But I know the perfect remedy to cure that!" His eyes flashed to a darkened corner of the cooking chamber. "Klia!
Get the lettuce leaves, would you!  I sense a treasure being born!"  Klia started, a bit surprised by his voice at first, and then the young girl turned to face him.  She set down the corn she had been shilling for the noon meal, grunted a "Yes, sir," and ran to the cupboard.  Maurice shook his head.  The girl never could quite come out of her shell, and she never let anybody crack it.  Quieter even than Miss Relena at times - and it was hard to be that.  And she certainly had no reason to be embarrassed!  Her figure was a lovely one, her eyes black heaven, and her hair long, black, and easy to work with.
 Halfway across the room, Noin snorted.  The perfect cure was undoubtedly another of his odd medical mixtures, which were nothing in comparison to his carrot cake.  She was about to turn down his offer, however, when Relena burst in the door.
 "Hya Noin!" she giggled, jolting Noin awake.  Relena hadn't shown this much pep since Noin had known her, which was a very long time.  She was almost giddy. "Look what I found!" Relena thrust her hand out at Noin.  Noin stared at it for a second, grabbed her soda can and gulped, then stared at Relena.

 "Relena, it's a rose." She stated, chugging Pepsi.
 Relena blinked. "But I found it out at the gardens, Noin!  And its fall!  Maybe its some sort of an omen or something!"
 Now it was Maurice's turn.  He dropped his ladle into the can by accident, and turned with a thrust of his baldhead. "In fall!  That's
quite a find!" he grinned, his Italian accent tainting his words.
"Klia!  New mission!"
 Relena nodded vigorously. "Uh huh.  Tell me, Maurice, where's a glass to put it in?"
 Maurice and Klia bustled off to help her find a glass elegant enough for it, leaving Noin dumbstruck in the middle of the gigantic kitchen.
What had just happened?  It was only a rose.
 She smiled sheepishly to herself.  Why, she did believe she was becoming a stiff!  Noin shook her head in self-aggravation, and then a paused a second to look at Relena.  She was maturing into a beautiful blossom.  Both her fathers would be proud.  Both, sadly, were dead, as were her mother - no matter, Noin would serve as her maternal supervisor.  They were like sisters.
 Relena did have a real sibling, but Noin thought very little of him.
Damned deadbeat.  The vision of him struck a painful chord, and she quickly walked from the kitchen, memories following her like an evil ghost.

 Around him lay a sea of golden sand.  Occasional 'waves', or in this case, sand dunes, were scattered all around him.  Above him was an eternal blue sky, and everywhere there was a horrid muggy heat that would choke the weak.  It bothered him little - he was far too used to pain, and this paled in contrast to other things he had endured.  He shifted uncomfortably in the back of the truck, unfolding his long gangly legs.  He exhaled outward roughly, gave the surroundings a quickglance, and returned to his laptop.
 He went by the name of Heero Yuy.  That name could pretty much tell his whole tale - the long training to become humanity's savior, the rigorous battles that he had all won, the horrid pain that tore and him both physically and mentally.  Heero Yuy had been a great leader, he had been killed, and therefore this boy had replaced him.  His real name was not even Heero Yuy - god knows what his mother had called him.  Go knows if this boy, who could appear inhuman at times, even had a mother!

 He ran his hand through his mousy brown hair and pondered about the region.  The last time there had been rain was five years ago.  Then it had rained for weeks on end.  He had read something about how the next good rain would be soon, in a matter of weeks even.  The population of the desert country exceeded about fifty thousand. The southern edges had some fertile farmland and that was where most of the people live.  Currently it was under harsh dictatorship - but the makings of a revolution was in the works, and Vice Foreign Minister Relena Peacecraft had agree to supply the rebels.
 Relena.
 He knew all these things because of his last mission, because he had stopped a smuggling business of yellow lizards in its tracks.  He knew it because it was issued in the report given by Une.  In fact, now was the time that he was to report back to Une and receive his next mission.

      His expert hands flew over the keyboard, there was a click, and in seconds he was connected with her private office.  The wonders of Science presented her secretary's face on the screen, though he wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse.
 "Hello 01," greeted the purse lipped old woman, "I'll sign you on to Une in a moment,"   Heero nodded, and her word was true.
 "Hello Heero.  I've heard your mission was successful -? "
 Heero nodded. "The smuggler are arrested, and a million dollars or so in smuggling products have been saved," he referred to the lizards, "If you have a new mission for me, I will take it now."
 Lady Une listened to the report, thinking all the while how Heero had never wanted to work for The Preventers in the first place. "Yes," she acknowledged, "I do have a new mission for you." She paused. "There's been a serial killer in the Sanc Kingdom, and she's nearing the Palace."

 "She?"
 Une readjusted her glasses and fixed Yuy with an icy stare. "The main suspect is female.  Would you like her bio?"
 "Yes."
 Lady Une nodded. "Stand by for transferring data," she announced, as was the custom.
 A momentary flash of technical light and a young girl appeared on the screen.  Heero studied her for a moment, his brow furrowed with concentration. Young.  Well built for male attraction.  Arabian.  He knew an Arab by the name of Winner well.
 "Young," he noted quietly.  He heard Une's voice come from somewhere behind the image. "Her name is Klia, Yuy.  Last name is suspected to be Rowell."
 "Suspected?"
 Her voice took a sharp edge to it. "She's an orphan.  Works in the palace currently - the head of maids saw her and hired on a chance. Highly capable at the job." She paused. "She took a blood test recently and it proved her ancestor of the Rowells.  Very, very closely linked."
 Heero felt an acute pressure in his chest.  He had fought the Rowells.
Scum Kingdom that took the side of OZ.  He wasn't sure, but he may have been the one to execute the king, Richard Rowell.
 "The Rowells?" he asked again, to make sure that he was getting things right.
 The bio flickered off, and Heero was able to see Une's face as she nodded towards him. "Do you feel like playing detective?" she asked him.

 Heero sucked in his breath sharply. "Yes." He answered sullenly, allowing Une to take him through a brief of the situation.

Last Word:  Alright, alright!  So it was nothing like a real prologue. Sorry.  If anybody is a diehard Noin and Zechs fan, don't worry; things aren't always so gloomy for them!  I originally meant this thing to be only six parts, but I think its going to be more like eight.anyways, like it or not?  Review!!