The Garden (part 2 of 3)
Posted: Wed Aug 27, 2003 3:22 am
I meant to get this up sooner, but it's just been a crazy week- I'm trying to finish this huge project and my parents are going to Portugal (they'll be gone on my birthday!), PLUS I'm moving into my college dorm in the morning, PLUS I just HAD to go see "Pirates of the Caribbean" tonight. Despite all this, I am taking the time to post this chapter, so you'd better enjoy it, or I'll sic the gremlins on you.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or the story "Roses by Moonlight" by Patricia C. Wrede
---
The Garden, Part Two
by Eienvine
There are flowers here that will bring you happiness.
The woman’s words seemed to echo in his ears, and Heero suddenly felt eager to find one of those flowers. Turning away from the archway he’d entered through, he strode out into the garden, looking for a better choice.
He moved to a bush covered with small, orange roses. Choosing one, he bent low to the ground and inhaled, letting his eyes fall closed.
Dropping his bag to the floor, he moved to the window and looked out. Windsor Castle . . . could there be a more scenic place to work? Bodyguarding the king of England was certainly better than his factory job.
He’d met the head of the king’s bodyguards during the war, and when Heero contacted him some five years later, the man had gotten him a spot among the king’s guards, working under an assumed name. He glanced down, fingering the badge on his chest which stated his name to be Marriner Calverton.
Heero smiled. He could very happily stay here, his identity hidden, for the rest of his life.
Heero blinked and pulled away. It was certainly a better choice, but he wasn’t sure yet. He memorized the location of the flower, just in case, and moved to another bush.
As orders began to crackle over the radio, Heero felt the rush of excitement that came with being back on the battlefield. Of course, he wished he was in his Gundam, but since all the mobile suits had been destroyed after the wars, he was forced to be content with a tank.
He began to wonder again if what he was doing was right- destroying the peace he’d helped to create. He wasn’t sure if he believed in the rebels’ cause, but he couldn’t help being drawn to battles. After trying for years to resist, he’d finally started to believe what everyone said about people like him: soldiers were only good for fighting.
Heero opened his eyes and stared at the rose. How did it know that statement plagued him? “I am better than that,” he whispered, glaring at the bush. He stood angrily and walked to a large yellow rose.
Space. It was just like he remembered it- still, serene. Heero maneuvered his shuttle easily through the field of space debris, pulling it to a stop alongside the remains of a Leo so that his fellow scavengers could pull it into the shuttle. This certainly wasn’t what he’d expected to do with his life, but at least he got to work in his beloved space.
Heero shook his head. He did like being in space, but being a junk scavenger wasn’t what he’d had in mind. He reached around the other side of the bush, being careful not to break any stems, and pulled another rose toward his face.
“I’m so glad you called me,” Quatre Winner said earnestly. The blond aristocrat was seated on the veranda of Heero’s spacious Parisian flat, sipping tea. “It’s been nearly ten years since any of us have seen you.”
Heero nodded and drank his own tea. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d called his former compatriot; after disappearing, working in St.-?tienne, and then opening a very successful nightclub in Paris, he hadn’t expected to see any of his former friends again. When he’d heard Quatre was in town, though, something had prompted him to call him. Quatre was delighted to hear from him, and after promising not to tell anyone where Heero was, he’d come over to visit. Now, he smiled his sincere smile and looked at Heero. “So, what have you been up to?”
Heero frowned. “Nightclub?” He was sure the woman laughed, but when he turned around, her face was calm. Shaking his head, Heero moved to another bush.
Heero pulled his black mask off and dropped it beside the bag of jewels on his bed. Stretching luxuriously, he let a malicious smile cross his face. Who’d have thought the skills he’d acquired as a Gundam pilot would help him become the greatest thief in New York City?
Heero let go of the rose and smirked. The thought amused him, but it was probably not a good choice. Rising to his feet, he glanced around to find a new bush, then walked to one of the hedge roses.
“Preventer Icarus, come in.” Heero moved quickly to the vidphone and clicked it on to see Wufei Chang’s face on the screen. “Report.” Heero immediately began detailing the progress of his latest assignment, heading the search for an escaped convict. Wufei looked impressed. “Nicely done, Icarus. I see I was right to take you on.”
The call ended and Heero sat back, smirking. He was glad to have proved himself to Wufei, who, along with Sally Po, headed the Asian branch of the Preventers. Wufei, who understood Heero’s feelings of unworthiness better than anyone, had agreed to hire Heero to work in the Thailand office under a false name. The stoic Chinese man had promised not to tell anyone of Heero’s whereabouts, and he seemed to be living up to his word. Even Wufei’s partner Sally didn’t know where Heero was. No one knew that Heero Yuy even still existed.
For the first time that evening, Heero hesitated, straightening slowly, staring at the rose in front of him. The choice it offered was tempting: to work as a Preventer, but anonymously, with no demands and no expectations. No one would know that Heero Yuy was still alive. It sounded perfect- so why was he hesitating?
Heero stared at the flower a moment longer, his hand still extended towards it. Somehow, though, he couldn’t bring himself to pick the bloom. I just need to see more choices, he told himself, and, memorizing the flower’s location, he turned to a low bush of blood-red roses. Choosing the topmost one, he leaned down and inhaled.
From his hiding place in the organ loft, Heero had what he considered a perfect view of the church: he could see the pastor and the casket, but the occupants of the pews were hidden under the edge of the balcony. Although he’d felt obligated to attend the funeral, he didn’t feel up to facing a group of people he’d abandoned fifteen years before.
The pastor began to speak, and Heero leaned forward to peer more closely at the body in the casket, an unfamiliar tightness in his throat. He hadn’t expected to feel such sorrow for the death of Trowa Barton.
Frowning, Heero straightened and stood, staring, at the flower. He was beginning to see a pattern. A few of the roses had made him happy, but so many more foretold only sadness in his life. Was it a sign, if that was all the garden could come up with to show him?
No, he told himself. I refuse to believe my life has to turn out that way. He turned away from the rose and pushed his way blindly to the center of the garden, finally finding himself standing at the huge marble fountain. Might as well, he told himself, and crouched on the ground to smell a delicate, white rose.
The room was silent. Heero frowned a little; somehow, he’d thought everyone would be glad to see him. True, he’d been gone more than a decade, but- oh, why was everyone looking at him like someone had died?
Blonde-haired Zechs Marquise was on the couch, holding a crying woman whom Heero recognized as Lucrezia Noin. The Lightning Baron looked up at Heero with weariness in his eyes. “You heard, then?”
Heero shook his head. “Heard what?”
Trowa Barton, sitting on the windowsill, raised an eyebrow. “It’s been in all of today’s newspapers. Did you read any this morning?” Heero shook his head mutely. What was wrong? And where was everyone?
Hilde Schbeiker and Catherine Bloom exchanged glances, but it was Duo Maxwell who came forward, his large violet eyes serious. “Heero, there was an attack last night. It’s Ojou-san. She’s . . . dead.”
Heero, coming back to himself, was vaguely aware that he had fallen to his knees. He stood abruptly, swallowing the tight feeling that he inexplicably found in his throat, and pushed himself away from the fountain, rounding on the dark-haired woman. “Why?” he demanded. “Why can’t I find happiness here? Is there no hope for me? Is that what these are saying?”
The woman seemed unaffected by his outburst. Heero felt his anger rise, but before he could shout again, she raised a hand to silence him. “You have only tried a few flowers. Don’t be so quick to lose hope. There is still a whole garden of possibilities.”
A sudden desire to find a better vision surged through his body, and Heero strode into the garden, determined to find happiness among the roses.
---
One more chapter! Wahoo! It should be up fairly soon, so check back.
Will: You cheated!
Jack: Pirate!
Anyone else seen the little clip after the credits? I must say, that skeletal monkey is going to haunt my dreams for weeks.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or the story "Roses by Moonlight" by Patricia C. Wrede
---
The Garden, Part Two
by Eienvine
There are flowers here that will bring you happiness.
The woman’s words seemed to echo in his ears, and Heero suddenly felt eager to find one of those flowers. Turning away from the archway he’d entered through, he strode out into the garden, looking for a better choice.
He moved to a bush covered with small, orange roses. Choosing one, he bent low to the ground and inhaled, letting his eyes fall closed.
Dropping his bag to the floor, he moved to the window and looked out. Windsor Castle . . . could there be a more scenic place to work? Bodyguarding the king of England was certainly better than his factory job.
He’d met the head of the king’s bodyguards during the war, and when Heero contacted him some five years later, the man had gotten him a spot among the king’s guards, working under an assumed name. He glanced down, fingering the badge on his chest which stated his name to be Marriner Calverton.
Heero smiled. He could very happily stay here, his identity hidden, for the rest of his life.
Heero blinked and pulled away. It was certainly a better choice, but he wasn’t sure yet. He memorized the location of the flower, just in case, and moved to another bush.
As orders began to crackle over the radio, Heero felt the rush of excitement that came with being back on the battlefield. Of course, he wished he was in his Gundam, but since all the mobile suits had been destroyed after the wars, he was forced to be content with a tank.
He began to wonder again if what he was doing was right- destroying the peace he’d helped to create. He wasn’t sure if he believed in the rebels’ cause, but he couldn’t help being drawn to battles. After trying for years to resist, he’d finally started to believe what everyone said about people like him: soldiers were only good for fighting.
Heero opened his eyes and stared at the rose. How did it know that statement plagued him? “I am better than that,” he whispered, glaring at the bush. He stood angrily and walked to a large yellow rose.
Space. It was just like he remembered it- still, serene. Heero maneuvered his shuttle easily through the field of space debris, pulling it to a stop alongside the remains of a Leo so that his fellow scavengers could pull it into the shuttle. This certainly wasn’t what he’d expected to do with his life, but at least he got to work in his beloved space.
Heero shook his head. He did like being in space, but being a junk scavenger wasn’t what he’d had in mind. He reached around the other side of the bush, being careful not to break any stems, and pulled another rose toward his face.
“I’m so glad you called me,” Quatre Winner said earnestly. The blond aristocrat was seated on the veranda of Heero’s spacious Parisian flat, sipping tea. “It’s been nearly ten years since any of us have seen you.”
Heero nodded and drank his own tea. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d called his former compatriot; after disappearing, working in St.-?tienne, and then opening a very successful nightclub in Paris, he hadn’t expected to see any of his former friends again. When he’d heard Quatre was in town, though, something had prompted him to call him. Quatre was delighted to hear from him, and after promising not to tell anyone where Heero was, he’d come over to visit. Now, he smiled his sincere smile and looked at Heero. “So, what have you been up to?”
Heero frowned. “Nightclub?” He was sure the woman laughed, but when he turned around, her face was calm. Shaking his head, Heero moved to another bush.
Heero pulled his black mask off and dropped it beside the bag of jewels on his bed. Stretching luxuriously, he let a malicious smile cross his face. Who’d have thought the skills he’d acquired as a Gundam pilot would help him become the greatest thief in New York City?
Heero let go of the rose and smirked. The thought amused him, but it was probably not a good choice. Rising to his feet, he glanced around to find a new bush, then walked to one of the hedge roses.
“Preventer Icarus, come in.” Heero moved quickly to the vidphone and clicked it on to see Wufei Chang’s face on the screen. “Report.” Heero immediately began detailing the progress of his latest assignment, heading the search for an escaped convict. Wufei looked impressed. “Nicely done, Icarus. I see I was right to take you on.”
The call ended and Heero sat back, smirking. He was glad to have proved himself to Wufei, who, along with Sally Po, headed the Asian branch of the Preventers. Wufei, who understood Heero’s feelings of unworthiness better than anyone, had agreed to hire Heero to work in the Thailand office under a false name. The stoic Chinese man had promised not to tell anyone of Heero’s whereabouts, and he seemed to be living up to his word. Even Wufei’s partner Sally didn’t know where Heero was. No one knew that Heero Yuy even still existed.
For the first time that evening, Heero hesitated, straightening slowly, staring at the rose in front of him. The choice it offered was tempting: to work as a Preventer, but anonymously, with no demands and no expectations. No one would know that Heero Yuy was still alive. It sounded perfect- so why was he hesitating?
Heero stared at the flower a moment longer, his hand still extended towards it. Somehow, though, he couldn’t bring himself to pick the bloom. I just need to see more choices, he told himself, and, memorizing the flower’s location, he turned to a low bush of blood-red roses. Choosing the topmost one, he leaned down and inhaled.
From his hiding place in the organ loft, Heero had what he considered a perfect view of the church: he could see the pastor and the casket, but the occupants of the pews were hidden under the edge of the balcony. Although he’d felt obligated to attend the funeral, he didn’t feel up to facing a group of people he’d abandoned fifteen years before.
The pastor began to speak, and Heero leaned forward to peer more closely at the body in the casket, an unfamiliar tightness in his throat. He hadn’t expected to feel such sorrow for the death of Trowa Barton.
Frowning, Heero straightened and stood, staring, at the flower. He was beginning to see a pattern. A few of the roses had made him happy, but so many more foretold only sadness in his life. Was it a sign, if that was all the garden could come up with to show him?
No, he told himself. I refuse to believe my life has to turn out that way. He turned away from the rose and pushed his way blindly to the center of the garden, finally finding himself standing at the huge marble fountain. Might as well, he told himself, and crouched on the ground to smell a delicate, white rose.
The room was silent. Heero frowned a little; somehow, he’d thought everyone would be glad to see him. True, he’d been gone more than a decade, but- oh, why was everyone looking at him like someone had died?
Blonde-haired Zechs Marquise was on the couch, holding a crying woman whom Heero recognized as Lucrezia Noin. The Lightning Baron looked up at Heero with weariness in his eyes. “You heard, then?”
Heero shook his head. “Heard what?”
Trowa Barton, sitting on the windowsill, raised an eyebrow. “It’s been in all of today’s newspapers. Did you read any this morning?” Heero shook his head mutely. What was wrong? And where was everyone?
Hilde Schbeiker and Catherine Bloom exchanged glances, but it was Duo Maxwell who came forward, his large violet eyes serious. “Heero, there was an attack last night. It’s Ojou-san. She’s . . . dead.”
Heero, coming back to himself, was vaguely aware that he had fallen to his knees. He stood abruptly, swallowing the tight feeling that he inexplicably found in his throat, and pushed himself away from the fountain, rounding on the dark-haired woman. “Why?” he demanded. “Why can’t I find happiness here? Is there no hope for me? Is that what these are saying?”
The woman seemed unaffected by his outburst. Heero felt his anger rise, but before he could shout again, she raised a hand to silence him. “You have only tried a few flowers. Don’t be so quick to lose hope. There is still a whole garden of possibilities.”
A sudden desire to find a better vision surged through his body, and Heero strode into the garden, determined to find happiness among the roses.
---
One more chapter! Wahoo! It should be up fairly soon, so check back.
Will: You cheated!
Jack: Pirate!
Anyone else seen the little clip after the credits? I must say, that skeletal monkey is going to haunt my dreams for weeks.
....I'm hopeless...I like sappy endings!!!!! 