The Mercenary, Chapter 1/?

[Tomorrow]

AN: Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing so far. I wanted to say that the dialogue in this chapter does serve a characterization and plot purpose (it?s not just here as a theology/history lesson). Also, the numbers in parentheses refer to a few footnotes (they were superscripted, but I don't know how to transfer that to this setting).

Disclaimer: I don?t own Gundam Wing, ?Sleepy Hollow,? or ?The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,? by Washington Irving.



The remote chant of mystics in the adjacent chapel, muffled by the drafts that whispered through the expansive halls of gold, marble, and decadent alabaster stone, consumed any transcendence and captured intimate revelation in the fading, smoky rings of sacramental incense. As though hesitant, dissipating then clouding again in the reflection of lantern light, those hazy fingers reached towards divinity, yearned to find Sophia floating near the bell's sluggish chime or frosting the stain-glass windows of the tower with Her breath; rousing the stagnant night with sanctity through empyreal, subjugating respiration.

Stillness, disturbed only by footsteps, echoed as boot heels scraped across the tiles. But that resonance halted before the Madonna, with curls of brown spraying out along the fringes of her deep blue veil, setting off those Europeanized cheekbones and milk-white skin with cobalt eyes. Her eyebrows were fine and delicately arched, head bowed, as though to portray a sense of deference to that in the portrait which the artist had her gazing at with such intensity. Such... awe. Perhaps even dread. Indeed - the Virgin held an infant Messiah in her arms, clothed in soiled, yellowed scraps and tattered shreds of fabric that concealed a few dark ringlets of his own. She pressed his halloed head to her breast.

Gently - only one ruffle in her cloak where the baby's head burrowed.

Her full red lips parted in prayer.

Hoping...

?You look troubled, Muslim,? the raspy voice of Milliardo Peacecraft startled his guest from the rendition's trance, causing the merchant?s shoulders to tense from the drawling syllables that echoed off the hall's pillars - those that disappeared deep into the narrowing innards of the spire. His head jerked to meet his inquirer's eyes. ?Could it be because you?re immersed in orthodoxy?? The prince lightly snorted under his breath and quirked his lips at the Arabian?s flinch. ?Or face to face with your own heresy??

?No? No, I?? Quatre responded with the downward turn of his face and partial stutter. Although there remained in his voice a rehearsed civility, his right hand fidgeted near his belt. ?It?s just that I? Well I?ve never??

?You?re much too kind, Quatre. I just blatantly called your religion a heresy, and you didn?t even make a move for your sword. No wonder we Christians took Jerusalem for a time.?

?At the cost of my ancestors? blood, of women and children, no less.? The trader?s fist began to shake with wavering control, twitching near his sword's hilt. His chain of bronze and silver bracelets clanked around his wrist with his trembling, shrieking stifled curses up into the hollow of the bell swaying above them in reverential slowness to the Holy Ghost that smoldered within its curved belly - sending softer wails of damnation into the night. ?I don?t see how you can stand there so casually and mock the past, without any remorse for the murders of your infidel fathers.?

?Because, heretic,? the blonde-haired reagent answered while he straightened to his full height, forcing the Muslim?s attention with the ferocity of his glare, ?it was your damned caliph that desecrated the Sepulcher (1). He forfeited your privilege to the Holy Land when he destroyed Christ?s tomb and spat on the blood of martyrs. He challenged to the entire Christian tradition that day, so you have only him to thank for your misfortunes. Without him, perhaps the crusades could have been avoided.?

?As a fellow man of the Book, I wouldn?t think to hear such lies come out of your mouth, Millardo,? the young heir murmured, a novel sadness to his voice as the sacrilegious banter in his friend?s tone poked holes in his normally amiable disposition. It made the younger's words breathy and prolonged. ?Those wars were mounting for a while, and you know that. Your pope wanted Byzantine and the knights sought fortune.? He swallowed, choking on the tingle that crawled up the confines of his throat and skittered around his gag reflex-- Forced to swallow again. ?You Christians even stole from your own people? You wouldn?t even return Constantinople to your Orthodox (2) when you reclaimed it.

?You opened your own wound, and now it?s left a festering sore that?ll never heal. The Eastern Patriarch will never reconcile with your pope again. ?

The prince?s pale gaze then traveled, almost languorous, to the Thanatokos (3) hanging above them in that chamber full of nesting, anomalous shadows that stalked from crevices and cracks and corners, even manacled the flames that tried to disentangle themselves from the sticky, tallow webs of candle wax. His stare lured the attention of the Arabian?s own eyes, which instinctively turned away from the painted reproduction in disgust. Quatre narrowed his brow as his head fell against his chest, shutting his eyes against the memory of the image so fiercely that his grimace began to quiver. Her gentle, distorted features were a mockery to him - her rendered flesh enticing scorn.

?Is there something else, Quatre??

?I find your ignorance about idolatry appalling, especially when it comes to constructing icons of Maryam (4). Do you Westerners really believe she was so fair and richly clothed? That she wasn?t dark like the women in my homelands? Such delusions can only be the product of arrogance - that all people must be as you are.?

?Perhaps, Muslim. But we create pictures of God, the Virgin, and the saints based on our perceptions of humanity, as an act of devotion and worship. It makes our God much more personal and easier to approach in prayer.?

The mystics sang on, hypnotizing themselves in God's energies and visions of sought ecstasy - illusions they could never name - nearly rolling around on the floor and moaning from, what they would deem, transcendental pleasure. Their rosemary incense invaded the Arabian's nostrils, causing his chest to burn and eyes enflame, watering nearing the edges of his lower lashes.

?Shirk worship,? the foreigner condemned amidst the tears, pulling a cloth from his robes and blotting his eyes, soon covering his nose and mouth from the pungent assualt. Though his eyes immediately softened, effects of the stench forgotten, when Milliardo?s brow raised in question of the Islamic term.

Nonetheless, it was a small but definitive victory in the Muslim?s mind, with the sovereign?s reaction a subliminal reward for submission and attempted jihad. But to be on the receptive end of Allah?s wrath wasn?t a desirable position, he knew, and so Quatre found himself pitying his poor, culturally illiterate friend - had enough compassion to relieve the Westerner of his ignorance and elaborate. ?Trying to associate Allah with man - or anything else, for that matter.?

?No? Trying to associate God with man, for He became one once.?

The heir shook his head resignedly and chuckled, darkness entwining in his fair strands. ?Allah and your God are the same deity. We just view it differently.?

?Then why are we arguing??

?I?? and with mouth awkwardly agape, Quatre smiled, defeated. Biting his lower lips, eliciting a sigh to staunch his rambling thoughts, he let his inner self align with the incantations of the mystics, shivering as their notes hovered over his senses. Somnolent. Yet... almost ticklish - like the faint, holy whispers that shimmied through his blood and massaged his muscles during his meditations, those that offered him solace from his irreligious practices of late, that inspired his soul to stillness and quiet hesychia (5).

Wetting his lips with his tongue as the sacred pitches surrounded him, he found himself swallowing a painful hardness that had suddenly lodged itself in his throat. ?I suppose I don?t really know.? And in that admission his face grew suddenly sober, with his hands smoothing out the creases of his garments. ?But as you know, I didn?t come here to discuss my culture with you, but to learn yours.?

?Then you?ve just had your first lesson: how to confront an apologist (6).?

?And you consider yourself one??

?When the need arises.?

?I see??

The young Arabian trailed off and averted his eyes to the far wall, waiting for the reagent to continue their conversation - the silence somehow eerie as the silhouettes of the candles? flames flickered upon the limestone, casting his comrade in a lazy radiance that left Quatre heady from the gleam's slouching and drowsy waltz. Mesmerized by the dancing fire that slid between the ridges of the stones in rhythmic crackles, as the gypsy whores stripped for a few pieces of copper and kept their beats with the jingles of tethered tambourines. Their sheer scarves flailed like smoke around their exposed, nimble bodies, wrapping them in hues of obsidian and voluptuous streams of burgundy and crimson...

?Highness,? a cold voice interrupted the heir's musings. ?Midnight approaches. If my services are no longer needed, I?ll take my leave for the night.?

?No, thank you, Trowa. You may go. But before you do,? the soldier halted in the doorway at his master?s request, though still facing the hall, ?please look in on my stepmother and the princess? She?s been anxious to see you well.?

The sentinel bowed low before the doorway, his voice muffled by his obstructive position. ?Of course, my lord.? Then he left with the reverberant shutting of the sanctum?s door.

With the departed safely out of earshot, Quatre looked over to his friend with wide eyes and unfurled a timid smile, a hint of amusement lacing his remark. ?He?s a character, isn?t he? Trowa, you called him??

?Yes, Trowa Barton? but why do you say so??

?Well, because as he escorted me to the palace, he mentioned something about ghosts, and heads, and a horseman and all such nonsense,? the tradesman remarked with a flippant wave of his hand. ?He claimed that the ?mercenary,? as he referred to this horseman, was about lately, scouring the highways for suitable heads to replace the one he originally lost. What childish fairytales.?

A hand reached out and clutched the young man?s shoulder, Quatre locking eyes with the prince that regarded him with a countenance as stern as his grip - the light from the wicks, one by one, withered, died on the older?s face. ?Don?t.?

?What??

?Don?t speak profanely of the Hessian demon. Or next he my decide to come for you.?

?A head-thirsty Hessian, Milliardo, really? Tell me you don?t believe in such superstitions as ghouls and goblins and??

?He?s not a Hessian,? a whisper echoed through the deadened, guttural halls, its tone nearly husky as those syllables mated - stroking the rustling drafts - with the credence of the mystics? panting. The carnal breath resurrected the candlelight in a sequence of bursts and illuminated the face of Relena Peacecraft - the princess of Cinq. Burnishing the intensity in her dove-blue eyes and grazing the edges of her lips like the flicking, consuming tongue of a lover, the flames hissed. ?He?s a good Christian man.?




Footnotes:

1) One of the religious causes of the crusades was the desecration/destruction of the Holy Sepulcher (Jesus? tomb) by Caliph Al-Hakim.

2) When Western Christians reclaimed Constantinople, they refused to return it to the hands of the Eastern Orthodox?a transgression that is still remembered today.

3) Greek word meaning ?Mother of God.?

4) The form of ?Mary? found in the Qur?an.

5) Christian form of meditation (trying to achieve inner stillness) usually associated with the Eastern Church. However, I?m using it as a general reference, of simply Christian meditation.

6) One who defends Christianity (explaining beliefs and the validity of those beliefs in terms others can understand).

[Morrighan]

Ooh.... Now what does Relena know about this "mercenary," eh? Is it who I think it is??

Can't wait to see more, the set up so far is so interesting!!!

[Kaili Charmer]

Hmm...I finally had time to read this, it's intriguing!! You've got to get the next part out soon, I'm in suspense as to how the conflicts are escalated! :razz: Coolness.

[Tomorrow]

I apologize for this taking so long. I got the prologue and chapter 1 out rather quickly, but then I was having... not necessarily writer's block. More or less writer's boredom. However, I'm over it, and the next chapter should be up fairly soon (within the next couple of days).

Thanks for your patience.

~Tomorrow

[Kaili Charmer]

YAY! :razz:

[APerfectSoldier87]

Hey I havent read the prologue yet, but this was freaking awesome. But serioulsy you did a good job. Very cool.

[athena]

*gapes* The detail! You must have done an insane amount of research for this fic! *applauds you*

The dialouge/banter between Milliardo and Quatre was priceless. It really did set up the scene, and lets the reader get a glimpse of what we're getting in to!

I'm getting so wrapped up in this story! I can't wait to read the next chapter!

love, athena

[lilac310]

I just read the last chapter of Kinship Beset and voila!..while I was browsing through the forums, I came across your apparently newly posted story (or so I think) and I read it....Quite frankly, I think this is very intriguing....I'm eager to read more about the "mercenary"..is it who I think it is?...this is interesting!!!..keep posting!!!

[lilac310]

umm...sorry to bother you but I'm just wondering whether you're still gonna finish this fic or not...

[Tomorrow]

::Cowers in the corner::

I know I've promised an update, and it will be done within the next week or so. I actually expected an earlier chapter addition, but I was reading Rose's advice in the "First Aid for Writers" forum, and agreed with it. Rose seems to always know what she's talking about. I've been using the past few days to edit these past chapters to try and incorporate her suggestions (I've also been slowly editing "Dreamer's Prayer," which I plan to update soon as well ).

Also, I was all set for chapter 2 of this story... when a new twist dawned on me. I've had to do some extra research to accomodate for the change, to make sure everything resembles some historical accuracy, at least. Also, I've been debating on the best format to present this new plot complication.

I'm sorry, but I really like this story and want to write it the best way that I can. Besides, when inspiration calls, who am I to put it on hold? Really, the next chapter will be out within the next week or so... REALLY!

~Tomorrow