Fire Rose Part 1

[Amanda Dale]

Author's notes: This fic comes with a SEVERE WEIRDNESS WARNING! I have no idea where it came from or exactly where it's going, but I though now would be a good time to post it since it's sort of a Christmas story. It's an introspective kind of thing with fantasy elements. Any comments are greatly appreciated!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters of Gundam Wing, and suing me will only get you a collection of cats who would be VERY DISGRUNTLED about being uprooted, if you get my drift.

The Fire Rose, Part 1

December 24, AC 199

Snow was falling in Brussels. It softened the severe outlines of the more modern buildings and frosted the elaborate ornamentation of the older parts of the city, creating an unusual harmony between the old capitol's historic past and its busy present. The modest 18th century townhouse recently inhabited by Vice Foreign Minister Darlian looked like something straight out of a Christmas card in its veil of white.

Upstairs in her private sitting room, Relena snuggled further down into the cushions of the loveseat and watched the snowfall. This would be her first Christmas in the new house; her first quiet, uneventful Christmas in years. Her mother had tried to prevail on her to come along with her to spend the holidays with distant relatives, but she had insisted she didn't mind being alone. This house was just beginning to feel like home to her, and she wanted a little time to accustom herself to it.

This was her favorite room in the house, her private sanctuary that no one entered except herself. It was a cozy room, decorated in restful cream and green, with a lovely bow window to let in the morning sun and a fireplace to warm it in the cold Belgian winters. The only furnishings were the loveseat, a small table just big enough to eat breakfast on, a bookcase, and a cabinet containing a CD player and a few photos.

At the moment the room's southern corner was occupied by a small tree. Like its more impressive counterpart downstairs, her little blue-green fir was a live tree. She could never see the point of celebrating a holiday dedicated to the renewal of life by killing a beautiful evergreen. When the holiday was over, the big one would go to a park and this one would be planted out in her garden.

Its ornaments were sparse and eclectic. Tiny white lights winked like stars between the dark boughs, presided over by a serene-faced angel her mother had presented to her just a week earlier. Most of the ornaments were origami pieces given to her by a group of schoolchildren on her last visit to Japan: eight-pointed stars and cranes and, touchingly, the simple, clean-lined Peace Dove. One of the doves bore her name written in kanji. Scattered among them were a few delicate blown-glass pieces she had found on one of her rare shopping trips in the city.

The only other decorations were a few cards from friends (a lovely one from Quatre, a simple one from her brother and Noin, and one from Duo featuring a picture of himself as Santa and Hilde in a somewhat abbreviated elf suit) and a single candle in the center of her window.

Relena smiled into the flickering fire. She really was enjoying the peace; even Peygan had gone to bed a long time ago and for a while she was responsible for no one but herself. Thank goodness they called a recess of the Senate for a week. By dint of working nonstop, she had managed to get most of the serious stuff off her desk by today and could take a few days off without feeling guilty.

"See, Mother, I don't mind being alone on Christmas,"she muttered sleepily, pulling an afghan over herself. Maybe she would just sleep in here with the tree. Leaving this cozily lit space to make her way down the dark hallway to her bedroom held very little appeal. No, she didn't mind the quiet, but sometimes the house was so empty. It wasn't huge, but it seemed larger with just herself and her butler rattling around in it. And she knew she wouldn't be finding anyone to share it with her anytime soon. She reached forward to pour herself another cup of vanilla tea and wondered about getting a pet. The thought of friendly, nonjudgmental company was appealing, but would an animal be unhappy during her prolonged absences? Would she have the time to give it enough attention? She hated to think of it waiting here in the empty house, wondering when she would come back.

Relena shook her head and added an extra scoop of sugar to her tea. "I refuse to feel sorry for myself!" she exclaimed. She looked around for something to distract herself with and realized there was still a stack of unopened presents under the tree. Well, no one's going to scold me for opening them a day early, are they?

Feeling agreeably like a naughty child, she reached for the most intriguing-looking one. It was a large, square package wrapped in opalescent paper, with a gift tag reading: I ran across this in the Bazaar one day and it reminded me of you. I hope you enjoy it-Quatre. Relena grinned. Sweet Quatre. As a Muslim, he didn't even celebrate Christmas, but his generous nature couldn't resist getting into the spirit of the holiday.

Under the paper was a layer of cloth, which she opened gingerly to reveal a painting framed in beautifully grained wood with Old English roses carved into the corners. Relena couldn't repress a squeal of delight as the painting came into view. It reminded her of the old Arthurian paintings of the Romantic period. The background was a castle, like the idealized Camelot, complete with turrets and balconies. In the foreground was a group of people in medieval costume so perfectly rendered that she could almost feel the pile of the velvet and see the patterns of the brocades. Their hair encompassed every shade from fiery red to blue-black, and their arms were stretched out towards the figure in the top of the picture. She was a tall, graceful woman, wearing a gauzy gown whose hems and sleeves seemed to fade into the haze of moonlight behind her. Her long silvery hair also seemed to merge with the night rather than ending. Her face was both gentle and knowing, and too beautiful to be quite human. In her hands she held an indistinct object; at first glance it seemed to be a sphere of cloudy colors, but as you looked into it, it slowly seemed to take on form, like a flower opening.

She let out a long breath. It was gorgeous, but there was more than just that; it gave her a feeling that she couldn't explain. She felt an instinctive sympathy for the people reaching out towards the woman with such entreating faces. Were they worshipping a goddess, or simply yearning for an unreachable ideal? Like her, perhaps. "Who are you?" she whispered.

"Interesting question." The low, melodious voice carried a hint of amusement. Relena whirled to find her windowsill occupied by a tall, fair woman whose outlines blurred disturbingly into the light of the candle and the shadows outside the window. Disbelief made her tear her eyes away from the woman and look at the painting. Where the glowing figure had stood there was now only a painted archway leading into emptiness.

"Identity can be a subjective issue, can't it, Vice Foreign Minister?" She laughed softly, with a sound like the ringing of faraway bells. "Or should I call you Princess? Or simply Relena? I've had a multitude of names, but one of the more recent ones was Oriande. Use that one if it pleases you"

"Oriande," Relena murmured. Part of her mind was trying furiously to remember where she'd heard that name before. The rest was wondering if she was drugged and hallucinating, or had fallen asleep, or if this was simply some kind of insane joke. Her house might look old fashioned, but its security system was top-notch. Still, there was a way around everything, wasn't there? "How did you get in here?"

"That painting acts as a talisman. If circumstances are right, it can summon me to the holder. Certain days of the year, particular surroundings, and above all, a person with a wish."

"Let me get this straight, you're here to offer me a wish?" Relena asked incredulously. Now she was certain of it; she was dreaming.

"How skeptical people have become. You don't really believe in me do you?"

Suddenly, Relena found herself looking into the being's eyes. They were bottomless, like the night sky, moonlight and darkness and pinpricks of stars all rolled together. Ageless. Impossible to counterfeit. Somewhere in the back of her mind a memory snapped into place, a memory of sprawling in her father's library, reading a book about fairies. "Oriande" she whispered. "The Moon fairy."

"As good a title as any other." The eyes released her. "And I haven't come to simply grant you a wish. It isn't as easy as that. I can't offer you enlightenment. I can't make your dearest wish appear like a mirage. But I can offer you the power to make that wish come true, if you have the courage to seek it. If you know what you're looking for."

The words went straight to her heart, leaving painful confusion in their wake. Relena made herself look away from that uncanny face. What was her dearest wish? The Vice Foreign Minister would wish for true peace on Earth. Wasn't that the goal she had dedicated herself to, and given up any hope of a normal life for?

As if reading her mind, Oriande shook her head. "To change the destiny of all humanity is beyond me. Such a wish could only come from the minds and hearts of all people. You already know this." Her face was without pity, but it was also free of malice.

Conflicting images flashed through Relena's mind: her father's death,Sanq,her brother, whom she never had the chance to know and perhaps never really would,the devastation she had seen on Earth and the colonies and worked so hard to heal,the moment she'd finally realized exactly what accepting this job would mean for her, five young men who had suffered from all the horrors of the era, and allowed themselves to be turned into killing machines to attempt to rectify those mistakes. The kaleidoscope of her thoughts slowly focused on one of those boys and steadied.
Was that it? Was her deepest wish really so selfish? She had wanted to help create a world where they could live like normal people again, and that had always been enough to sustain her through self-doubt and loneliness, but lately it had become harder and harder to keep them at bay. If I could see Heero; if I could ask him if I've succeeded, if all this is worth it...Or did she just want an excuse to see him and reassure her self that the connection between them wasn't a figment of her imagination?

She looked back at her mysterious guest, squaring her shoulders. "What if I don't know what I'm looking for?"

"Then you will find out, if you succeed. Remember, you can decline the opportunity. Your dearest wish is not something to be achieved without risk."

"I will do it." She had no doubts at all about that. A strange, reckless conviction had come over Relena. She needed the opportunity to see for herself what was really in her heart. Perhaps she could find the answers she needed about herself and her mission. Perhaps it would be enough to restore her flagging faith.

Oriande gestured with one long hand. The archway from the painting was rising off the canvas, becoming solid as it grew. Beyond it was an endless expanse of starry sky. "Step through the door."

Without hesitation, she stepped forward into the blackness. As she fell into nothingness, she heard a distant voice say, "Remember, your goal becomes real as you seek it."

[Aristale Wolf]

wheres the rest of it??? its really good, a little confussin but thats what makes and excellent story.....hope to read more of it :razz: