Ryuu no Hikou, 8/?

[Goldilocks]

Again with the delays and the whatnot. My life as of late has not been easy. Finding energy to post stuff has not been easy. But enough whining. This post brings me up to speed with all that has been written and ready. I should have Chapter 9 done as soon as my beta-readers get back to me...which means I have no idea when it will be ready. -_-

Much grateful thanks go to all of the people who have read and responded thus far; it means a lot to me. One day I hope to get my energy back up to the point where I can respond, as I should've been doing all along. But don't think for a moment that the kind words left for me thus far have not been appreciated; they have, believe me. ^_^

All prior chapters can be found in my Featured Author section. Look for "Sara". ^^

~~

Chapter 8

An air of tension seemed to hover over the sickroom, and even though the curtains were drawn open and the late-afternoon sun streamed in warmly, the room seemed dark and cold. Wufei stood as close to the bed as he could without hovering, fighting the urge to both stare at his sister and turn away in shame and disgust.

Meiran had not awakened since collapsing in the shrine, and with Lun's help, he had rushed back to the ducal estate, setting up a clamor in calling for the family physician that shook the foundations of the house and caused people to panic. Wufei's father had also come running, his face a dark thundercloud of anger, but the instant he saw Meiran's prone form in Wufei's arms, the anger dissipated, leaving behind something very much like fear.

The physician had taken one look at Meiran and cleared all but the immediate family from the room. He had been examining her ever since, his mouth set in a grim, determined line. Not a word had been uttered since, and the only sounds in the room were those of the physician as he went about his business.

Finally the man straightened, and regarded Wufei and his father with a grave expression. Both men paused expectantly, their eyes focused on the physician. Wufei's father was the first to speak. "Well?"

The physician regarded them, his steely grey eyes serious. "It is a disease of the mind," he said quietly. "There are no marks on her body, no indications of injury. I can see no physical reason for her condition.

"But she does not react. It is as though her mind has been shut away, locked behind some deeply-hidden barrier that not even she can breach."

The duke of Ri Shin uttered a small, choked sound that might have been a sob. Wufei closed his own eyes to hide his grief. When he opened them, he realized that the physician was scrutinizing him.

"Can you tell me nothing of what happened?" the physician asked.

Wufei sighed. "No more than I have already told you," he murmured in reply. "She was trying to tell me something, gasped as though starved for air, and collapsed. She did not rouse, and so I brought her here as quickly as I could."

The physician's eyes narrowed slightly. "What happened in the shrine is between your sister and yourself," he said quietly, "but if I had to make any estimate, I would guess that there is serious black magic involved here, the kind that has been banned from our borders for many hundreds of years." He began to gather up the tools of his profession as he spoke. "For I can see no other reason for an otherwise hale and healthy young woman in prime physical shape to simply collapse and not wake up, yet remain living."

Wufei clenched his fists in anger. "If only I had not pushed her to speak! She only did so at my insistence. Had I left her be, this might not have happened!"

But to this, the physician merely shook his head sadly. "If it is indeed a form of black magic, then all you could have done was delay the inevitable," he said. "It is likely that the seeds of this foul deed were planted within her mind quite some time ago."

This caused Wufei to lapse into thought as he recalled Meiran's words. How long had she suffered under the curse on her mind? She had spoken of the enemy as having powers that she could not combat. Perhaps the physician's guess was accurate. He grew angry at the thought of his strong, fierce twin, cowed into subservience by a power that she did not understand.

The physician's voice jarred him from his thoughts. "Until I can learn more about her ailment, I want someone with her at all times. Make sure that an attendant is always nearby, and rotate them frequently to lessen the chance that one would doze off while watching her. We must remain alert to any small change in her condition; it could mean the difference between bringing her back to us sooner, or losing her entirely." With that, the physician exited the room, followed by the duke, who no doubt wanted to organize female attendants to stay at Merian's bedside.

Wufei found himself alone in the room with his sister. The air seemed to draw close about him, stifling him, and before he could become overwhelmed by panicked emotions, he stepped forward to her bedside.

Meiran's face still bore faint hints of the terror that it had shown when she was felled. He noticed as if for the first time the dark circles beneath her eyes, the tight lines and tenseness about her mouth. How long? How long had it been? Had she been fighting against the shadow even before he had left for Sanq?

His thoughts made him angry, and with anger came more determination than ever to find who had done this to her and exact his vengeance upon them...for so very many reasons. He made a silent vow to his sister and his ancestors as he slowly left the room.

In the hallway outside the sickroom, he was confronted by his father. But it seemed as though he, too had been changed. "Your sister...she..." he whispered in a quiet, shaky voice.

"We will find out who did this to her," Wufei answered, though his mind reeled with doubts, "and we will bring her back to us. I swear it."

His father nodded, regarding him. "Normally, there would be a punishment...some sort of retribution for deserting your post as a guardian of Sanq...but..."

Wufei then saw his father do something that he had never seen him do, ever before, not even when Wufei's mother had died. The older man seemed to crumble, and his knees buckled as he sank to the stone floor of the hallway. "Your sister...Meiran...my little bird..." he sobbed. The display made Wufei uncomfortable, yet strangely comforted all the same. His father really was human.

A wave of pity for the man whom he had both loved and hated in turn washed over Wufei. Before he knew what he was doing, he had reched out to gently squeeze his father's shoulder. "Meiran is strong," he said earnestly. "She will overcome this, and stand with us proudly once more. In my heart, I know this. You must believe in her, too."

His father had started at the touch, but tentatively reached up to clasp his son's hand. "You are...both strong," he said in an emotion-roughened voice. "You make your mother proud. As you make me proud, as well."

Wufei said nothing. No words were necessary.

"You will return to Sanq," said the duke, regaining his feet and his haughty demeanor. "We must prepare to meet this challenge with weapons raised, to show that Sanq is not a land of softness and cowards." His eyes narrowed with determination. "Before your time, the ducal army of Ri Shin was the stuff of legends," he said contemplatively. "I shall prepare for war, so that we can show those black dogs that there is still great strength to be found within Ri Shin, and that legends have not softened her edges, nor her strength."

Wufei nodded wordlessly, feeling a sudden surge of pride for this man that he called father. "I will leave at once," he stated. "There is much information that I must bring back to my comrades-in-arms. Perhaps we have gained more from this tragedy than it seems." With that, he dropped down into the traditional bow of subservience, but his father stopped him. Baffled, Wufei stood hesitantly.

His father regarded him, the light of pride in his eyes. "That gesture is for those to whom I am superior," he said, "but you have proved yourself to be my equal today." His eyes grew steely once more. "Now go. The enemy already has an edge over us. You must work quickly to lessen the gap. Go quickly, and make your ancestors proud!"

Wufei nodded curtly, and turned to stride from the room with his head held high. Out in the courtyard, his dragon turned to regard him, her scales glinting sharply in the late-afternoon sun. Lun seemed to sense a change, and arched her neck proudly, cutting a fierce silhouette against the sky.

It was long after dragon and rider had departed that the lone figure of the duke moved from his spot, watching his son disappear.

* * *

The journey back to Calon Gaer seemed to take an eternity. Wufei knew that Lun was stretching herself to her utmost, flying as fast as she could, yet it still felt as though they were barely moving. He knew that he had information that the others must be made aware, and his urgency led him to be more impatient than he had been since he was a small child.

So it was when he finally saw the glistening spires of Calon Gaer, he very nearly whooped with joy and relief. Throughout the entire flight he had debated with whom he should seek first, and had finally resolved to tell the first people he saw; or, if they were servantry, have them bring him to Weyridge at once. Never had it occurred to him that he may not be granted such an audience; the knowledge of how important the information he carried was so strong it overshadowed all else.

As he neared the castle, movement near the front promenade caught his eye. With a wash of relieved excitement, he realized that the other dragon-riders, minus the Maguanacs, were exercising outside. Most of them were in various stages of stretching. Duo's mercury dragon had carefully folded his wings and was rolling to and fro on the turf like a horse, kicking up dust and bits of grass. Wufei could hear the beast grunting with exertion from his perch.

Lun barked a short roar of arrival, and all heads snapped around as though controlled by marionette strings. Eyes widened then narrowed, and several heads turned away as he landed. Wufei was taken aback. Did they not know he carried vital information? He scoffed at his own arrogance. Of course not. How could they? It was his duty to pass along the information so that they could know!

He strode purposefully across the promenade, Lun close behind him. Yet a strange phenomenon seemed to be taking place; whenever he tried to make eye contact, be it with beast or man, his own eyes were carefully and studiously avoided. Even Deathscythe was unnaturally silent, the tip of his tail flicking rhythmically, though he eyed both rider and dragon with unabashed curiosity. Something had happened.

Finally, Wufei confronted Heero. The other youth did not turn away; he stared long and hard at Wufei, not breaking eye contact nor blinking. Finally, with a scoffing snort, he broke his gaze and stalked over toward where Wing stood. The topaz dragon wore a matching expression of disdain.

"What is going on?! Why will you not acknowledge me?" Wufei was growing rapidly angry. "What crime have I committed? Have I not been faithful to the Pact?"

The only one who would meet his gaze now was Quatre. His eyes were very sad, as though he had just lost someone very dear to his heart. At his shoulder, his massive bronze dragon shifted uncomfortably and cast his gaze to the sky, as if hoping to see something there that would cause a diversion. Wufei took the chance given and strode quickly over to where Quatre stood, confusion quickly giving way to panic.

"I don't understand...what is going on here? Why am I being given to the silent treatment?"

Quatre looked down and studied his hands for a moment before drawing a breath of strength, squaring his shoulders, and looking up to meet Wufei's gaze once more. The other dragon-riders and their mounts had gathered a short distance away; far enough to not be involved in the exchange, but close enough to hear what was said.

"I think that you should seek out Weyridge immediately," Quatre finally said. "I'm sure it was a misunderstanding...I do want to think that the others are jumping to conclusions, and we are all wrong about this. I believe that there must be a rational explanation for all of this." The youth was speaking in a voice uncharacteristically rushed; his words jumbled together so badly that Wufei at first did not understand what he was saying.

"What was a misunderstanding?! What should I speak to Weyridge about immediately? I don't understand!"

The sad expression on Quatre's face deepened. "Sally's faerie dragon told us this morning," he said quietly. "When we awoke to find you gone, we did not know what to think. Nothing like this has ever happened, not in all of the history of the Pact. We weren't sure of what to do, at first. We met with Weyridge, and he had some ideas...but he didn't want to follow through with them. He said that he would give you some time, but not much." The boy began to turn away to face the other dragon-riders, but then turned quickly and laid a hand on Wufei's arm earnestly. "That is why it is so important that you find him," he said, his voice urgent. "You must catch Weyridge and explain yourself before it is too late!"

"Before WHAT is too late?!"

Quatre had turned away fully this time. His voice was calm and quiet, yet each word he spoke struck at Wufei's soul like a thousand sword-blows.

"Before you are labeled a Deserter of the Pact."

* * *

People seemed to move out of Wufei's path as though he carried a vile plague. He strode down the hallways of Calon Gaer, seeking out Weyridge, and servantry and castle residents alike scooted out of his way as he passed, watching him with wide eyes and murmuring in low voices to their neighbors. Wufei fought the urge to scowl deeply. It seemed that everyone had found out about his "desertion" before he even knew he'd been branded with the label.

He finally found the advisor in one of the map libraries. The older man was seated at a long table with the princess, poring over a zoning map. The princess looked bored to the point of mental pain but, to her credit, was holding up remarkably well. Both of them had the exact same reaction when Wufei entered the room. They looked up, eyes widening in realization, and in one synchronous movement, stood up abruptly.

Wufei suddenly felt his resolve crumbling. Weyridge looked furious, but the princess looked upset, as though a part of her world had come crumbling apart. Yet, thought Wufei, she had seemed to wear that expression since the ball. Perhaps something happened that has nothing to do with this?

"I trust that you have a very good explanation for...disappearing so abruptly," said Weyridge in a deceptively cool and calm voice. Wufei drew his mind from mental speculation to focus on the task at hand.

"I did," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "There were matters that needed attending-to, and so I took my leave--"

"In the middle of the night, without informing another soul of your destination or your plans, and without any advising from myself or the Princess!" Weyridge exploded, his face turning red with ire. Wufei had never seen the man so angry. "Do you realize what you have done?! Never, never once in the entire history of the Pact has the question of desertion ever been raised! Ever! All who were summoned by the Pact responded with pride and no regrets! Yet you think that you are different, in some way?"

"I did not desert!" retorted Wufei, rapidly losing his composure. "Never once did it cross my mind to not return to Calon Gaer, once my errand was completed!"

"And what errand would be so important that you would leave the castle without consulting with anyone?"

Wufei paused. Should he tell the advisor, in a fit of pique? Certainly the truth would come to light eventually, and he fully expected to tell the advisor where he had gone and why he had gone there. But should he tell them now, or wait?

He squared his shoulders. "I returned to my home," he said, as calmly as he could. "I went to confront my sister, to see if she played some role in this. I felt that--"

Wufei had not thought it would be possible for Weyridge to get more infuriated than he already was, but it seemed he had thought too soon. The advisor was beside himself with anger.

"You deliberately went against my wishes and my orders! I specifically told you that no dragon-riders were to leave the premises on any orders other than my own or those of the Princess! Do you realize what you have done?!"

"I went to confront my sister on my own business! I had a feeling that she would be able to provide us with information, and she has! If you would just listen to me--"

"You have spoken long enough, Wufei of Ri Shin," said Weyridge in a dangerous voice. "As it stands, the evidence weighs in favor of declaring you a deserter and banning you from--"

"Wait!" cried Wufei, panic edging his voice. "You cannot remove me from the circle of dragon-riders! Our numbers are few! Not to mention I have information about the enemy that must be heard!"

"Of what use is a dragon-rider who cannot be trusted to remain at his post?" retorted Weyridge. "Must we keep you under constant guard to ensure that you remain at the castle? It was made clear at the outset that you were not to leave the palace grounds except on official errand. What makes you think that you are so different from the other dragon-riders, who do not seem to have any difficulty understanding the conditions that bind them?"

To this, Wufei had no answer. The information that he had, the trouble he had gone to, the sacrifice of his sister...it all seemed to be spiraling away from him. He would have to return to Ri Shin, a dishonored soldier. His family name would be forever tarnished. He had disrespected and failed his ancestors. He felt himself falling into apathy and dismay.

He once again recalled the image of his sister, lying prone on the floor of the shrine, and the physician's voice, stating that nothing could be done to revive her. With the memories his determination returned. "I will not let my sister's sacrifice be in vain!" he said with angry conviction.

Both the princess and Weyridge started at this. "Sacrifice?" repeated Relena, shock tinging her voice. "What has happened to your sister?"

Wufei sighed slightly, sensing that he had perhaps gained a toehold. "It is part of the information that I am trying to pass along, if I may speak," he said, seeking askance from Weyridge. The older man seemed about to retort, then sighed slightly, nodding his head.

Wufei took a deep breath, and began to speak. He told them everything; from his decision in the bathing pools with Lun, to the confrontation in the shrine and the information that Meiran had imparted before being felled. By the time Wufei finished his recounting, Weyridge had regained his seat and was stroking his chin thoughtfully.

Relena looked aghast. "Such powerful magic...!" she breathed. "I have never heard of it. Weyridge, do you know of this treachery?"

"I have heard of such," said the advisor slowly, "but it was a long time ago, and only in passing. But I thought that the creature responsible for it was long gone from this plane." He stood and began to pace. "What is the connection? First the weaponry found with the attack squad that matches that of the country bordering Qa'nirvenye, and now this. How are they connected? Are they connected?" He continued to murmur to himself, his voice too low to make out individual words.

As Weyridge ruminated, Relena cornered Wufei. "Your sister," she said hesitantly, "is she...?"

Wufei shook his head. "We do not know, and it is too soon to tell," he said, trying to mask his grief. "The physician could find nothing wrong with her, but said that she was in good health and that not all hope was lost. Only time will tell, now."

The princess lapsed into silence, pondering his words. She turned to look at Weyridge, who had stopped his pacing and was scrutinizing Wufei shrewdly.

"It is obvious that you were not acting upon cowardice, with this information that you have passed along," he started slowly. It took all of Wufei's composure to keep from gloating at the admission, but he knew that doing so would be foolish. "Now, we must determine what to do with it." He began pacing again. "We will call the dragon-riders together, and the emissary. Some of the scholars should be present, as well. The dragons, they should be included, also. This is important information that we will need to consider carefully before making our next move."

Wufei heaved a relieved sigh visibly, and Weyridge fixed his eyes upon him once more. "Do not think that this ends this," he said severely. "You will not be labeled a deserter, nor will your honor be stripped from you. But know that you are far from being granted total reprieve. Your taking it upon yourself to leave the castle without permission or askance from anyone is a severe infraction in and of itself, and I shall have to determine a proper consequence for your actions." He sighed. "For now, you are dismissed. Return to your quarters, get some rest, and refresh yourself. I will summon you with the rest of the dragon-riders when I need your counsel."

* * *
Dorothy had to admit that, by and large, Calon Gaer and its occupants had exceeded her expectations. Rumor of Es'rilshan had listed the kingdom of Sanq as a pacifist backwater; content to sit by and watch time pass idly, not concerning themselves with war or conquest or trying to attain land through battles. Then again, she supposed, when you've got an elite force of soldiers on dragons to defend your nation at a moment's notice, I suppose that there really is no need to go looking for trouble, and most doesn't come seeking you, either.

Not that Es'rilshan was a swirling vortex of turmoil, itself. It was a very peaceful nation; her cousin ruled it fairly with a calm, level head, not letting momentary angers get the better of him. It was almost a shame; his dragon was such a shrewd tactician that quite possibly the entire world could have been theirs, with a few well-placed strategic movements. But Es'rilshan's king was quite content to rule what he had been given and no more; indeed, he was the first king of his country to not be interested in open warfare with Sanq.

She was sitting in one of the sun rooms inside the castle, pretending to read a book; off to one side, the Princess sat with her small entourage of ladies-in-waiting. The murmurs of the ladies' voices filled the room with quiet, pleasant sound. The princess of Sanq was working on an embroidery project, and was, for a change, not avoiding the emissary, though the tension in the room was still palpable. Dorothy found this all terribly amusing. She was not certain why the Princess had invested so much energy in staying out of Dorothy's way, but it was impossible to ignore the fact that she was obviously very nervous around the emissary. Dorothy supposed that it could be because of the rumored enmity between the two nations, though much of those rumors were speculation and not based on even the slightest kernel of truth.

Now it seemed as though the two nations were headed toward peace and alliance. Dorothy chewed her lower lip idly, contemplating the possibilities. With such a large nation as their ally, Es'rilshan would have further insurance of their own security. Perhaps the Pact could be modified to include their nation, as well, especially considering that there were two dragon-riders within its borders. Never mind that both were either refugees from Sanq, or the descendants of such. Only those of Sanq blood attracted dragons; no one knew why. Though dragons lived outside of Sanq's borders, they did not seek out riders anywhere else. It was rare enough that Es'rilshan's kings continued to be dragon-riders, and that was only because their lineage could be traced back to the royal house of Sanq.

Now, there was the possibility of a different war from a different nation, and an enemy that had yet to show its face. Dorothy knew it was out there, though; she knew it because she could feel it. The air held a semblance of tensing, as though preparing for something big, and she could sense its growing anticipation. Her role was not only to aid the fledgling diplomatic relations between the nations, but to sniff out the truth behind the Oracle's speaking and the hints of war on the horizon. So far, she had gathered precious little information. Her only consolation was that no one really knew what to expect, not even the Princess's top advisors and councilors.

Dorothy flipped a page in the book idly. She hadn't really been reading; her mind caught up in contemplation. The sunlight filtering into the room was making her sleepy, so she slipped her feet out of her shoes and tucked her legs beneath her, leaning back on the chaise and arranging her skirts for modesty. One of Relena's ladies looked up and pursed her lips slightly in disapproval but said nothing. Dorothy merely smirked in response. Even as an emissary, she still outranked the lady-in-waiting, and did not have to defer to her.

What would happen next? Her cousin had told her that her role in Sanq would be that of liaison and emissary; she would gather information and help to establish diplomatic relations with Sanq. Yet since her arrival, she had been asked to do precious little. Though she was being treated like an important guest, and given a great deal of respect, she was bored.

She caught herself stifling a yawn, and swung her legs over the edge of the chaise abruptly. Though it would not be bad to take a quick nap, Dorothy decided that she'd rather take a walk and clear her head. She slipped her feet back into her shoes and stood up. She excused herself from the Princess's presence and left the room.

Dorothy pondered taking a stroll in the gardens, but the idea of breathing air redolent with the perfume of flowers did not appeal to her. She could almost feel the start of a headache, a dull throbbing behind her eyes, and decided that being around the flowers would only make things worse. Instead, she found herself wandering down the cool halls of the castle, the silent stone a refuge after the brightness of the sun room.

She had meant to explore more of the castle as she grew accustomed to her surroundings, though she did not want people to think that she was sticking her nose where it did not belong. Even if that were part of the reason for her explorations, she did not want to give people the wrong impression.

Besides, Calon Gaer was a very old castle with a rich history; would it be considered that odd for a diplomatic emissary to try to learn what she could about the castle?

Dorothy hadn't realized how far her wandering had taken her until she realized that she had begun to stray into the hallway which lead to the catacomb-caves where the dragon-riders resided. Her eyes widened for a moment, and she stifled a laugh. What would Princess Relena think to see her down here! None of the palace ladies were supposed to go near the catacombs; it was considered the height of bad etiquette for them to do so.

Well, what's done is done, she thought, and I really don't want to rot away in that stifling garden all afternoon. Besides, I am not a 'palace lady'. Perhaps there is a library around here....

The hallway looked no different from any of the other passageways in the castle, save that it was considerably wider. The floor was scored with countless marks from dragon talons; countless years of dragons passing through the halls had made their mark upon the worn stone. All along the path were huge bas-reliefs of the various species of dragons; their tails and wings carved artfully into archways and doorways. She could see several hallways darting left and right off of the main path, and at the very end, a set of massive stone doors belied the presence of the bathing-room; their surfaces etched with an intaglio of a bronze dragon dancing under a waterfall.

Dorothy began to peek into doorways unobtrusively, trying to seek out a quiet corner or a library. She spotted storerooms filled with dusty artifacts and tools, large, drafty hallways that twisted and turned out of sight, and closets full of linens, some containing small cots and pallets for servantry to sleep so that they would be able to be summoned at a moment's notice for the dragons and their riders. But except for Dorothy, the hallway was completely devoid of other people.

About this, she was indecisive. Though she would not admit it, the truth was that Dorothy was bored, and felt rather isolated at Calon Gaer. In Es'rilshan she had had friends and acquaintances, and was treated well, as the cousin of the King. Here, she was treated like an emissary; given respect, but not friendship. The Princess did her best to avoid Dorothy, and her ladies-in-waiting spoke to no one but Relena herself, it seemed. Even her personal soldier rarely spoke to anyone outside of their entourage.

She had also seen nothing that would indicate Calon Gaer plotted against Es'rilshan. Though her cousin had very emphatically instructed her to not start a war, only a naive fool would believe that her sole purpose in traveling to Calon Gaer was to facilitate peace. She was information-gathering as much as she was playing the diplomat. But truthfully, she'd had precious little to report. The people of Sanq were far too preoccupied with their Oracle and the nameless, faceless threat that menaced them to concern themselves with annexing a neighboring nation.

Her cousin had suspected no less. She still remembered his last letter to her, which she had carefully tucked away in the hidden compartment at the bottom of her traveling trunk. "Truth be told, dearest Cousin," he had written, "I expected no less from gentle Sanq. Their nation has become one of peace and pacifism; military coups are simply not in their style. I did not believe that their nation bore us ill will or malice, and am gratified to hear that my beliefs are founded in truth."

But of an order requesting her return to Es'rilshan, Dorothy had heard no word. It seemed that she would be stuck here, at least for the time being.

She squared her jaw, inwardly biting her tongue to take her mind off of her homesickness and to keep herself from crying. The last thing that she would need right now would be to lose her composure in the middle of a foreign nation! She would get to go home soon enough; once her cousin realized that Sanq posed no danger to Es'rilshan, her role would end, and she would be able to return home.

"...will work better this way, with two of us working together. How did she even do that in the first place? There's barely any turf hard enough for miles around!"

"I have no idea. She wouldn't even let me look at it until the bleeding stopped."

Dorothy was jarred out of her thoughts by voices echoing down the hallway. She realized that in her haste to escape prying eyes, in case she were to start crying, she had ducked down one of the hallways leading to the catacombs. Someone--two people, from the sound of it--were approaching.

"Should we call for Sally?"

"Perhaps. I want to see how badly she is injured first, just in case it doesn't require medical attention."

She recognized the voices of the tall dragon-rider, and the short, fair-haired one. Her homesickness was momentarily forgotten. These two intrigued her. They were both princes, yet Dorothy was no fool. She had not played the game of the court for years for nothing; she knew the signs that they displayed, and wondered if they themselves realized how obvious it was becoming.

She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she completely forgot to duck out of sight.

"If you say so...I just can't believe it's damaged so badly. What was she doing? Sandrock used to wrestle with the brass dragons in the desert back home, and he never ripped a talon so badly!"

A chuckle. "I don't believe Heavyarms is as injured as she'd lead us to believe. You know how talon wounds bleed. It's probably a simple split. If we wrap it, it will be fine."

The two young men rounded a bend in the hallway. Trowa was carrying a large box inlaid with archaic symbols. Quatre trotted alongside him, his arms filled with a long, cloth-wrapped object, and a small earthenware pot. Both stopped dead in their tracks when they spotted Dorothy.

Trowa immediately bowed. "I would greet Your Ladyship properly, were my arms not full," he said cordially, using the proper tone one would use to address someone in equal standing. Dorothy dipped into a perfunctory curtsey, and turned expectantly toward Quatre. But he seemed to have forgotten himself. The boy stared at her, mouth agape, as though his own grandmother had risen from the grave and begun to sing.

Dorothy would have laughed at his absurd facial expression, yet instead of amusement, she felt a lance of anger. Ever since her arrival, this particular dragon-rider had given her nothing but distrust. Had she ever done anything to garner such treatment? She was an emissary; sworn to diplomacy and good faith between their nations. She had never given anyone any reason to believe that she was trying to tear down their nation from within, nor did she have reason to do so.

Suddenly, it was as if something had flung wide the dark curtains obscuring the situation, and Dorothy understood. Quatre's nervousness around her did not have anything to do with a belief that Dorothy was out to destroy Sanq at all! The realization almost made her laugh, but instead, she carefully schooled her features and regarded him with the best predatory expression she could summon. She banished the many hours of training in decorum and etiquette she had endured, and allowed her eyes to roam slowly from his toes to the crown of his head.

Sure enough, the dragon-rider flushed a deep scarlet, and all but leaped backward. I knew it, she thought triumphantly, he thinks that I fancy him! Dorothy completely forgot about her loneliness. This would prove to be much too entertaining.

"Lah-lah-lah-lah-lady Dorothy! Wh-what are you doing down here?" he stammered, trying to regain his composure. Next to him, Trowa remained silent, but regarded both people with an air of cool observation. Dorothy smirked inwardly, and decided to pull out all of the stops.

She self-consciously fluffed her skirts and leaned over as though distressed, clutching her hands together and allowing her bosom to heave slightly over the top of her bodice. "I was trying to find a library," she said, toning her voice into what she hoped sounded like distress, "but I think that I got lost." She carefully cocked an eye toward Quatre. Her motions had not gone unnoticed. The dragon-rider was practically purple, and was fighting very hard to keep from staring at her decolletage. She resisted the urge to laugh out loud.

"B-but...there are libraries near the Princess's quarters, not to mention your own...surely you could have found a different one?"

Dorothy heaved a convincing, dramatic sigh, clasping her hands in front of her once more. "Yes," she said in her best petulant, spoiled tone, "but those books are so boring." She looked up, her eyes glinting dangerously. "Besides...perhaps I wasn't seeking out just books..." She gave Quatre her best seductive gaze, allowing the tip of her tongue to dart out, wetting her lips.

If my Cousin could see me now...he would surely lock me in the top of a tower until I am legally wed! But she was having far too much fun to worry too deeply about the consequences.

She regarded Quatre under heavily-lidded eyes. The young duke's son was far too well-trained to lose his composure in front of a lady, but Dorothy could tell that he was having a difficult time controlling himself. His knuckles were white from clutching at the fabric-wrapped bundle, and he gripped the earthenware jar so tightly that Dorothy suspected it might shatter at any moment.

It was Trowa who finally spoke up, breaking the spell. "I apologize for our haste," he said in a cool, yet cordial voice, "but we have an obligation to tend to an injured dragon. The library is back the way you came; look for the first set of double doors to your right just as you're about to leave the hallway. Perhaps you'll find what you're looking for there. Now, if you'll excuse us, we must make our departure." He tugged at Quatre's sleeve, gently guiding the other boy down the hall toward the bathing room.

Dorothy was faintly disappointed to have her fun spoiled to abruptly. She straightened and smoothed her skirts, gazing down the hall toward the closed, still doors of the bathing room. A slight smirk flitted across her face, and she turned to retrace her steps back to the sun room.

* * *

Several days had passed since Wufei's abrupt departure and return from Sanq, and though it had generally been accepted that he had not deserted his role as guardian of the kingdom, people still gave him a wide berth in the hallways, and eyes followed his path with whispers close behind. Wufei strove to ignore all of it, fighting to remember that it was his sister who was his topmost concern, and that as soon as his information was proved true, all doubts against his character would be erased.

Still, there were many times when he sought solace in the more remote areas of the castle, choosing to hide in places where others rarely chose to tread.

Roughly a week after Wufei's return, Weyridge and the princess called a council of war to discuss the information that Wufei had been given. By that time, nearly everyone in the castle had heard the story of what had happened to his sister, since Wufei took every opportunity to tell it as a way to maintain his innocence.

"It is apparent now that the assassination attempt, while meant in all seriousness to remove the Watcher, was also a feint to try and force us to target Es'rilshan," Weyridge began. "According to the information that we have been given, we have nothing to fear in the form of an attack from Es'rilshan--"

"With all due respect, Advisor, I would have to say that that much is obvious," Dorothy's voice cut through. "My cousin would not have sent me here as emissary if we had designs for an attack on your kingdom." She settled back into her seat, hands folded in her lap. Weyridge cleared his throat slightly and continued.

"As I was saying, it has been confirmed that we need not fear an attack from Es'rilshan. But that only eliminates one possibility. We still do not know who our attackers are, or why they are choosing to attack us."

He leaned forward in his seat, bracing his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his clenched fists. His eyes flickered toward where Denethor, as representative of the scholars, was seated. "Have you made any conclusions about the weaponry?

Denethor shook his head. "Whoever sent the infiltration team either expected that they would be defeated, or planned on not leaving a trace. We can draw nothing conclusive as evidence from studying the blades, nor have we seen any weapons similar to them. However, thanks to the Maguanacs, we are fairly certain that they come from an-Mymar'alachvurdes. The style of the weaponry seems to match, though we can find no evidence of a forger's mark or the like."

Weyridge sighed. "Then we must plan for an attack, and be ever vigilant. Though I do not doubt that we will be hit with a frontal assault soon, all evidence thus far has shown that they prefer stealth techniques."

"Could this be a plan to try and wear down our reserves? Several small attacks often do more damage than one great one," Noventa was also sitting in on the counsel. "Perhaps they are waiting until we are weary from constantly defending against small skirmishes, then plan to attack when we are at our weakest."

"That could be," conceded Weyridge. "If that is their plan, then we must take care to step up border security. That enemy forces are allowed to get so close to the castle with no detection is simply inexcusable. I will see at once to setting up border patrols, to prevent this from happening as much as possible."

"What of the dragon-riders? We could occasionally respond to border skirmishes, yes?" Quatre looked thoughtful. "If we make an appearance occasionally to confront enemies at our borders, it will show the people that we represent Sanq as a whole, and are not only concerned with protecting Calon Gaer.

"We should also consider our allies," commented Trowa. "Five dragon-riders are a fearsome force, but they are not as great as in the past. We should consider building alliances with neighboring nations; after all, if Sanq is defeated, what would stop our attackers from moving on? Chances are they plan to take down the nations one at a time."

To this Weyridge nodded, then a look of surprise passed over his face. He turned to Rasid. "What of your Maguanac corps? Can we not utilize your forces for defensive purposes, as well?"

Rasid shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Our orders were to look after Master Quatre," he said stiffly. The youth in question turned red, and ducked his head in ashamed fury. "We cannot involve ourselves in any battles unless our charge is in danger."

Weyridge was speechless, but covered his shock well. "Then we will not plan on using your forces in our defense," he said smoothly, though it was apparent that he was unsettled by this information. The Maguanac corps was 40 dragons strong; to lose that force would be bad.

Various nations were suggested; some were discarded out of hand, while plans were made to contact the others. Resources, strengths and weaknesses were discussed, and in the shuffle, the ladies in the room began to be summarily overlooked.

Relena may be complacent to sit back and simply observe while the others planned a war around her, mused Dorothy inwardly, but such things had never suited herself. She had loved sitting in on her cousin's war councils; listening to his smooth voice as he detailed attacks, parries, and coups; his great sapphire dragon shouldering next to the King as his strongest and most trusted advisor. Treize had even listened to Dorothy on a few occasions, letting her whet her own skill in strategy.

It seemed as though Sanq had very different notions, when it came to war and a woman's role in them. Dorothy would never deny that the Princess's advisor was an intelligent man; her time in the Sanq Kingdom had assured her of that much. However, there was one thing she did not understand....

Dorothy stood up, and placed her hands on the table with more force than she'd intended. The resounding smack of her palms against the smooth wood resounded through the room, and the others gathered there looked up in surprise. Weyridge looked at her inquiringly. "Is everything all right, Lady Dorothy?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Dorothy replied, her voice more snide than she'd intended, "I thought for a moment that we were having a council of war. Yet not once have I heard Es'rilshan mentioned, either as a potential ally or as a source of weaponry, soldiers, or supplies."

Weyridge looked surprised. "We were just about to discuss the involvement of Es'rilshan--"

"You were, were you? Well, that's very interesting. Because from where I am standing, it seems that you were taking very special care to avoid all mention of Es'rilshan, am I right? You still fear them as a potential adversary. You do not want to let Es'rilshanian troops inside your borders for fear of a coup. When did the Sanq Kingdom become so paranoid? If Es'rilshan had wanted to invade, we would have done so years ago."

The room was silent, partially out of shock that the emissary had spoken so harshly, and partially because her words had hit home. Dorothy raised one eyebrow. "I would not suggest that Es'rilshan be included if I did not think that they would be able to help in some way," she said, her voice still carrying a sharp edge of determination. "My cousin did not send me here to babysit your kingdom and watch for signs of danger. He knew that you would overlook Es'rilshan in a council of war."

Advisors and dragon-riders alike shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Relena was staring at Dorothy, her mouth hanging open. Dorothy bit back a smirk. Obviously, the princess had never seen the power that a woman could command, when she chose to do so.

Weyridge finally regained his voice. "I do not think that our...omission of Es'rilshan was deliberate..." he started tentatively.

Dorothy blinked with slow, deliberate nonchalance. "I see," she drawled coyly. "So I am to report to my cousin the King that you 'forgot' a border nation whose founding began in a civil uprising within your own borders?"

She was satisfied to see that the advisor did not crumple beneath the scrutiny. The older man squared his shoulders and faced her as he would an enemy. "Perhaps we did deliberately omit your nation from our consideration, but you can hardly blame us," he said tactfully. "The acrimony between our nations is no secret."

"That, dear Advisor, is precisely why I am here," she replied neatly. "My cousin believes that the time for peace between our nations has come, and what better way to encourage that than to team up against a mutual enemy? It is true that we are hardly safe behind our own borders. I suggest that we invite the King and his war council here, to Calon Gaer. He is a skilled tactician, and his dragon is a force to be feared and admired. With their aid, we can surely overcome this threat."

At the emissary's suggestion, the tension in the room rose to a palpable level. Murmured conversations buzzed to and fro between those assembled, and it took a moment before things calmed down enough for Weyridge to speak.

"Invite the King of Es'rilshan to our nation?! When there is not even a pact of peace between us?! When he would not even visit our nation for a pleasure trip?"

The smile that graced Dorothy's lips was almost feral. "But my dear Advisor, this is not pleasure," she purred sibilantly. "This is war."

~*~

TBC

C&C is, as always, loved and appreciated. ^_^
--Sara

[Morrighan]

Oh boy... This shall prove to be interesting, that's for sure.

I can't wait to see more!!

[C.G]

Cool! Can't wait to see what happens next.

[silent muse]

I love it! I leave for a few months and updates of almost all of my favorite stories are up! Once again, Goldilocks, you have me on the edge of my seat wondering what's going to happen next! Will Relena find out who the masked rider really is? What is the terrible power that's has control over Meiran? Who or what is behind all this. And when are we gonna see some more Heero and Relena moments ?

I'm eagerly awaiting the next chapter! Please post as soon as you can! I'm going crazy here!

-muse-

[Primus2021]

I agree, & must appologize to Treize for wanting him dead, if indeed he wishes to help Sanq, & not take over, (ep. 45-48 of MSGW, The Treize Faction, Treize died helping Relena & the Pilots achive peace, I just remembered that, sorry Treize I see death in your future no matter what side your on, BTH where is Une!)

Wufei, I'm sorry but I fear that your sis WILL die, (MSGW EP. ZERO, mentioned her death sorry.)

Dorothy, THE seductress, poor Quatre ( Um SIKE, Good going Dorothy MAKE Q-Man SQURM)

Quatre had better ORDER Rasid & The Maguanac corps to help or ealse! (Calling MY DRAGON, Bahwumout "The King of All Dragons" & killing all 80 Maguanac corps Men & their Dragons, See I'm All Powerful)

I must see King Herro, & Queen Relena Yuy IT IS INEVITABLE!!! (Insert Yuy Laugh Here)

Anyways griat fic, & Good Night My friends!