(songfic) Hands 3x11 mention, 11+13, 11+3
Posted: Sat Sep 11, 2004 12:20 am
Title: Hands
Author: Kendra
Rating: PG
Pairing: 3x11 mention, 11+13, 11+3
Warnings: angst, a little sap.
Disclaimer; I don't own GW or this song.
Notes: On the fly inspiration. This is my first Une POV fic and I took license with her past.
I'm not a Treize fan so this fic may seem like Treize bashing even though I've tried to avoid
bashing him. I hope I got into her mind well. I love chara pieces.
Hands by Jewel
//If I could tell the world just one thing
It would be that we're all OK
And not to worry 'cause worry is wasteful
And useless in times like these
I won't be made useless
I won't be idle with despair
I will gather myself around my faith
For light does the darkness most fear//
To any observer, my hands are normal hands. They are small, slender and unadorned except for a
small golden ring on my left hand ring finger. My hands are unmarred by physical work; years in
OZ and having to wear gloves as part of my uniform have kept them in good condition. Trowa
jokes that if I ever need a job, I could be a hand model.
However, when I look at my hands, I see crimson red stains like the color of Zech's OZ uniform.
People say that hands can tell you about a person; the lines, the way a person holds them, how
they keep their nails. One time, when I was younger, just out of Victoria, a random person took
hold of my hands and told me that I had a long, interesting life ahead of me. I feel that was
an understatement.
//My hands are small, I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
And I am never broken//
I spent the first thirteen years of my life wishing to be someone that I wasn't. I never wanted
to be Anne Une, illegitimate daughter of OZ General Petersburg. I never wanted to be the brat
that no one wanted yet needed because I was the only child that Petersburg had. I never wanted
a family legacy that I was to uphold yet I could never claim. I did not want to enter Victoria
but I was forced into it. I wasn't like Noin who was working towards just getting into space or
Zechs who had his own personal demons. I graduated with high marks, but I did not want to be
there.
Then I met Treize. I laugh at myself now but back then I was a fainting fangirl when I saw him.
Treize was always so debonair, so handsome, and such a user. It was politically expedient for
him and my father to make me his secretary; he had a powerful friend on his side and my father
could say that he was friends with the soon-to-be head of OZ. However, no one expected love.
//Poverty stole your golden shoes
It didn't steal your laughter
And heartache came to visit me
But I knew it wasn't ever after
We'll fight, not out of spite
For someone must stand up for what's right
'Cause where there's a man who has no voice
There ours shall go singing//
I fancied myself in love with him; I cooked up scenarios where he swept me off my feet, made
sweet love to me in a rose-coated bed, and I would be his pampered wife for all time. The only
thing that came close to that was the fact that he made love to me in a rose-scented bath. He
would whisper words of love to me and then expect me to be the harsh Colonel Une in public. I
was to be the other piece of the puzzle for him, his fiercely obedient sergeant at arms, the
counterpoint to his ace, the Lighting Baron. It was an open secret that he had originally
wanted Noin in my position; it would be a coup to have the two best students as the top aides
in OZ but Noin bucked his plans and became an instructor with Zech's backing. I was number two
but it was okay with me as long as I was with Treize.
I pick at a nail; its time for another manicure. Treize always admired my hands; they were
proof to him of my noble background. I frown; the memories are always painful. I loved Treize
and I was sure that in his own way Treize loved me but I always knew I was never quite good
enough. I was a bastard; the leader of the Khrushenada family could never lower himself. I was
too useful to him as Colonel for him to even think of that. Plus, I think he got off the idea
that he had his private, nice Une to sleep with and his open, bitch Une to help him rule the
world. I mentally could not handle what he wanted from me.
//My hands are small I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
I am never broken//
I open the first drawer of my desk. I always keep a stash of emery boards there. As I take out
one, I remember the beginning of the OZ coup d'etat. I shudder as I remember my bloodthirsty
absolute obedience to Treize. Nothing else mattered compared to Treize; friends, family, even
my own health I sacrificed over six years to his mission. I snort; it was a mission that ended
up with Treize ultimately changing his focus to not ruling the world but to propel the world to
the confrontation needed for people to want peace for once and for all.
It had surprised me; I thought I completely understood him but I didn't. He originally wanted
to control the world to bring peace but I found that while I was gone in the colonies and on
the Lunar Base that his feelings had changed. I know the desire for peace had always driven him
but by then I was so obsessed in serving Treize in all ways that I was blind to the idea that
he wouldn't be pleased with what I had done. But then, I had a split personality that worked in
its own way.
//In the end only kindness matters
In the end only kindness matters
I will get down on my knees, and I will pray
I will get down on my knees, and I will pray
I will get down on my knees, and I will pray//
The last time I talked to Treize, really talked to him was right before he fought his duel with
Wufei. He did something that he had never done before: he apologized. He apologized for my
split personality; he apologized for everything that had happened. He apologized for putting me
in the position to get shot and most of all; he apologized for never telling me that he loved
me. By that time, my split personality had merged into one. I never spoke to him personally
again.
His death, I'm still ambivalent about it. My heart ripped into two when he died but I know that
he died how he wanted to die. He wanted to die in battle in a way that would be meaningful.
Treize got what he wanted; Zechs and Heero fought their last battle which I televised to the
world as my last act of homage to Treize. The world chose peace and the young Relena Darlian
became the personification of the peace that Treize hungered for.
//My hands are small I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
And I am never broken//
That year between the end of the Eve Wars and Mariemaia's rebellion was one of the worst years
I ever had. For the first time of my life, I was no longer working for OZ. I had to find
something for myself, something that I was doing for me and not for someone else. I originally
did not want to join the Preventers; I felt that it would be best for me to stay away from
anything remotely military but Noin talked me into it. But then, as I look at my hands again
after filing my fingernails, being a Preventer is a good way to pay for my sins.
I knew I made the right decision during Mariemaia's Rebellion. Even though I wasn't on the
front lines, just being there fighting for peace was everything. And Mariemaia.... She is the
loveliest girl I have ever met, a gift from Treize himself. It hurt to find out that Treize had
a wife but I feel like Mariemaia was given to me to make up for everything that had happened.
//My hands are small I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
And I am never broken
We are never broken//
I sigh as a rumble of thunder is heard in the air. It is nearly five o'clock, almost time to
leave, go home. Mariemaia should be home from school already; it is hard to believe that she is
almost fourteen years old now. My eyes unwillingly mist a bit. I look at Mariemaia and I see
the girl that I was; young, naive despite seeing things far beyond her years, and willing to
please. She has young boyfriends that I never had. It took me two years to admit that I even
liked Trowa, let alone loved him. She however, has the backbone that I never had when I was
younger.
I start to pack up, sorting papers and stacking files neatly on the desk to take him with me.
People have told me to stop worrying about the past. I have Mariemaia to take care of, a loving
husband but I cannot forget. I'll forever see the blood that is resting on my hands. But I see
today the peace that I'm helping to build and support.
//We are God's eyes
God's hands
God's heart
We are God's eyes
God's hands
God's eyes
We are God's hands
We are God's hands//
Author: Kendra
Rating: PG
Pairing: 3x11 mention, 11+13, 11+3
Warnings: angst, a little sap.
Disclaimer; I don't own GW or this song.
Notes: On the fly inspiration. This is my first Une POV fic and I took license with her past.
I'm not a Treize fan so this fic may seem like Treize bashing even though I've tried to avoid
bashing him. I hope I got into her mind well. I love chara pieces.
Hands by Jewel
//If I could tell the world just one thing
It would be that we're all OK
And not to worry 'cause worry is wasteful
And useless in times like these
I won't be made useless
I won't be idle with despair
I will gather myself around my faith
For light does the darkness most fear//
To any observer, my hands are normal hands. They are small, slender and unadorned except for a
small golden ring on my left hand ring finger. My hands are unmarred by physical work; years in
OZ and having to wear gloves as part of my uniform have kept them in good condition. Trowa
jokes that if I ever need a job, I could be a hand model.
However, when I look at my hands, I see crimson red stains like the color of Zech's OZ uniform.
People say that hands can tell you about a person; the lines, the way a person holds them, how
they keep their nails. One time, when I was younger, just out of Victoria, a random person took
hold of my hands and told me that I had a long, interesting life ahead of me. I feel that was
an understatement.
//My hands are small, I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
And I am never broken//
I spent the first thirteen years of my life wishing to be someone that I wasn't. I never wanted
to be Anne Une, illegitimate daughter of OZ General Petersburg. I never wanted to be the brat
that no one wanted yet needed because I was the only child that Petersburg had. I never wanted
a family legacy that I was to uphold yet I could never claim. I did not want to enter Victoria
but I was forced into it. I wasn't like Noin who was working towards just getting into space or
Zechs who had his own personal demons. I graduated with high marks, but I did not want to be
there.
Then I met Treize. I laugh at myself now but back then I was a fainting fangirl when I saw him.
Treize was always so debonair, so handsome, and such a user. It was politically expedient for
him and my father to make me his secretary; he had a powerful friend on his side and my father
could say that he was friends with the soon-to-be head of OZ. However, no one expected love.
//Poverty stole your golden shoes
It didn't steal your laughter
And heartache came to visit me
But I knew it wasn't ever after
We'll fight, not out of spite
For someone must stand up for what's right
'Cause where there's a man who has no voice
There ours shall go singing//
I fancied myself in love with him; I cooked up scenarios where he swept me off my feet, made
sweet love to me in a rose-coated bed, and I would be his pampered wife for all time. The only
thing that came close to that was the fact that he made love to me in a rose-scented bath. He
would whisper words of love to me and then expect me to be the harsh Colonel Une in public. I
was to be the other piece of the puzzle for him, his fiercely obedient sergeant at arms, the
counterpoint to his ace, the Lighting Baron. It was an open secret that he had originally
wanted Noin in my position; it would be a coup to have the two best students as the top aides
in OZ but Noin bucked his plans and became an instructor with Zech's backing. I was number two
but it was okay with me as long as I was with Treize.
I pick at a nail; its time for another manicure. Treize always admired my hands; they were
proof to him of my noble background. I frown; the memories are always painful. I loved Treize
and I was sure that in his own way Treize loved me but I always knew I was never quite good
enough. I was a bastard; the leader of the Khrushenada family could never lower himself. I was
too useful to him as Colonel for him to even think of that. Plus, I think he got off the idea
that he had his private, nice Une to sleep with and his open, bitch Une to help him rule the
world. I mentally could not handle what he wanted from me.
//My hands are small I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
I am never broken//
I open the first drawer of my desk. I always keep a stash of emery boards there. As I take out
one, I remember the beginning of the OZ coup d'etat. I shudder as I remember my bloodthirsty
absolute obedience to Treize. Nothing else mattered compared to Treize; friends, family, even
my own health I sacrificed over six years to his mission. I snort; it was a mission that ended
up with Treize ultimately changing his focus to not ruling the world but to propel the world to
the confrontation needed for people to want peace for once and for all.
It had surprised me; I thought I completely understood him but I didn't. He originally wanted
to control the world to bring peace but I found that while I was gone in the colonies and on
the Lunar Base that his feelings had changed. I know the desire for peace had always driven him
but by then I was so obsessed in serving Treize in all ways that I was blind to the idea that
he wouldn't be pleased with what I had done. But then, I had a split personality that worked in
its own way.
//In the end only kindness matters
In the end only kindness matters
I will get down on my knees, and I will pray
I will get down on my knees, and I will pray
I will get down on my knees, and I will pray//
The last time I talked to Treize, really talked to him was right before he fought his duel with
Wufei. He did something that he had never done before: he apologized. He apologized for my
split personality; he apologized for everything that had happened. He apologized for putting me
in the position to get shot and most of all; he apologized for never telling me that he loved
me. By that time, my split personality had merged into one. I never spoke to him personally
again.
His death, I'm still ambivalent about it. My heart ripped into two when he died but I know that
he died how he wanted to die. He wanted to die in battle in a way that would be meaningful.
Treize got what he wanted; Zechs and Heero fought their last battle which I televised to the
world as my last act of homage to Treize. The world chose peace and the young Relena Darlian
became the personification of the peace that Treize hungered for.
//My hands are small I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
And I am never broken//
That year between the end of the Eve Wars and Mariemaia's rebellion was one of the worst years
I ever had. For the first time of my life, I was no longer working for OZ. I had to find
something for myself, something that I was doing for me and not for someone else. I originally
did not want to join the Preventers; I felt that it would be best for me to stay away from
anything remotely military but Noin talked me into it. But then, as I look at my hands again
after filing my fingernails, being a Preventer is a good way to pay for my sins.
I knew I made the right decision during Mariemaia's Rebellion. Even though I wasn't on the
front lines, just being there fighting for peace was everything. And Mariemaia.... She is the
loveliest girl I have ever met, a gift from Treize himself. It hurt to find out that Treize had
a wife but I feel like Mariemaia was given to me to make up for everything that had happened.
//My hands are small I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
And I am never broken
We are never broken//
I sigh as a rumble of thunder is heard in the air. It is nearly five o'clock, almost time to
leave, go home. Mariemaia should be home from school already; it is hard to believe that she is
almost fourteen years old now. My eyes unwillingly mist a bit. I look at Mariemaia and I see
the girl that I was; young, naive despite seeing things far beyond her years, and willing to
please. She has young boyfriends that I never had. It took me two years to admit that I even
liked Trowa, let alone loved him. She however, has the backbone that I never had when I was
younger.
I start to pack up, sorting papers and stacking files neatly on the desk to take him with me.
People have told me to stop worrying about the past. I have Mariemaia to take care of, a loving
husband but I cannot forget. I'll forever see the blood that is resting on my hands. But I see
today the peace that I'm helping to build and support.
//We are God's eyes
God's hands
God's heart
We are God's eyes
God's hands
God's eyes
We are God's hands
We are God's hands//
