Remnants of My Dream: ACT 1 I think this is AU anyway... and then, I am sooo sorry to skip Zechs Off Duty Days, but this idea just came by, and if I ignore an idea I might lose it forever! Anyway, this idea came up when I watch Adventure in Motion Picture's Swan Lake... I don't know whether anyone had seen it yet, but it is definitely not like the traditional Swan Lake, and for those who had watched it, this fic I wrote is not very true to the AMP's Swan Lake either. If anyone wanted to know more about this, feel free to email me and I'll tell you the story... (*uh oh*) Disclaimers: GW characters are not mine, Swan Lake's never mine, don't own money, and Warnings: Yaoi, mushy, sappy, ooc, au, and all the above... I think and most of all, Trowa and Zechs. And yah, I think I changed my style of writing . and because it is AU, lots of OOC...makes sense? Of course not.And I am not that good at chronological years of the g-boys so I made it up. And then there is a made up character called Gawain...who ever that may be... Remnants of My Dreams based on Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake (c) Adventure in Motion Picture, 1996 UK tour 2000 ------------------------------------- TROWA I grew to hate sleeping, there are always bad dreams and all of those scary things that seemed to chase after me. But here I am now, sleeping again, and having all sorts of dreams intermingling in my head. There are crashing voices from a 100 piece orchestra and cat calls from the audience in the circus... there are hopes and shattered ones, there are friends and people I despise. Everything seemed to be endless torture for me, everything seemed to be as bad for me, and worse I can't bring myself to get it rid of. I can't seem to wake from the darkness... I don't know why. ZECHS I watched the young boy tossing and turning in his sleep... he can't be more than eight or nine years old... maybe ten. What is it of him that attracts darkness like a friend to a lonely one... but then again, darkness do love people so helpless... And I stood there in silence, watching as the tossing and turning grew more and more restless, grew in intensity, and in horror, I watched and waited for the boy to wake up from his dreams... But he didn't. Why? Then another young boy went in and checked on him, and I had to go.But my heart told me not to... what is this that attracted me to him? TROWA I sprang from my sleep, bathed in sweat and my breathing ragged. I couldn't get a grip of myself. It seemed like everlasting hell...this feeling. I don't know why I had these nightmares, I'd hope it'll go, really... Then I sensed the flap to my tent cracked a bit. A head of a boy peeked in from the light that streams into my tent. I can't remember his name, though, but vaguely I know he's older than I am. I've just met him once,I'm new with the mercenaries... I have yet to know him and the others. His looks are with concern, his eyebrow knotted together and his eyes sparkled in curiosity. His held tilted to one side. I looked at him into his deep green eyes and held out my hand, trying to get a grip to something real, trying to tell myself that I am not left alone with my nightmare. He seemed to come near me, walking very slowly... Oh I hope I could just jump and hug him and cry on him, I am just so desperate for a friend, a real one, and not my imaginary friends that I made up. Living with mercenaries, though I know, does not give such privileges called friends. But I know he cared for me. He touched my fingers briefly. How nice it was to have a feeling of someone, a real someone, a warm touch. So I leaned in and tried to get more of his to comfort my wrecked body... But he pulled away. "No." his word is sharp and commanding. "We can never tolerate people as weak!"he gave me another look, and left me. I felt I am going to die... I cried myself to sleep that night... GAWAIN He was such a pitiful beautiful creature. Such soft heart he had... I wish he would never be in a mercenary, I wonder whether he could cope with such things. As I looked at his grief stricken face, I grew with concern... He's such a small child, frail... He reached out to me, his short span of hands trying to reach me, he stretched himself to meet my fingers, and to my surprise I am walking to him. My paces are slow and measured. I have never showed any interest in other members of the mercenaries before, let alone took pity in them. But this one is different. I touched his fingers, assuring that he is safe from whatever nightmare that he was in. He seemed to relax a bit and leaned to my touch. Wide-eyed as I am, I pulled back in instinct. "No."my voice is short and sharp. /I can't let you be soft like this./ He stared at me in disbelief. Had his ally turned an enemy. /Oh little one, if only you know how much I do care for you.../ "We can never tolerate people as weak!"There, that does it. His heart seemed to crumble. Not that I don't notice. But if I don't do that to him he will not stand a chance with the others. We are not a bunch of friendly people... Little one, you have yet so many to learn. And I spun around, walking briskly out from the tent. I dare not turn around for if I do, the sobbing that I heard will have a face, and I can't do such thing as a shoulder to cry on... We are not taught to do that... We are hunters... Killers... Mercenaries... In us there is no pity... With pity there is no survival... I am sorry... I cared, But I can't... *** And that night, darkness enveloped the land, no moon, no stars... But a broken little boy... Who sobs himself to sleep. >>>tbc That is particularly Act 1...tell me what you think! please? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- comment fish <>< Remnants of My Dreams - ACT 2 Okay! second part. So, if I didn't get the whole thing...I don't know, I give up!! Anyway all disclaimers apply (you must be bored by this by now, anyway)... oh yah, maybe a bit ooc, and the stuff like that... bear with me please... and C&C... flames? not when I am doing my laundry. Remnants of My Dreams part 2 based on Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake (c) Adventure in Motion Picture, 1996 UK tour 2000 -------------------------------------------------------- TROWA I am surprised I slept the night, even though I woke up with a heavy head and nauseous all the way. But I would be telling a lie if I said my sleep was not satisfactory. It was so dreamless and so beautiful that I need to be kicked off from bed by one of the senior members of the mercenaries. They are never nice to me, and because I am small they found a way to bully me, somehow... They took my clothes off, roughly and splashed cold water onto me, soaped me clean...I think they are teaching me how to bathe. They make me wear poorly cut clothes, not that I've worn something better in the past anyway. It stinks, like something that hadn't been washed for decades. Leftovers from rations I guess... Then food...they tasted funny in my mouth, something that tastes like uncooked meat, even as I can't see it, too much spices and salt it burnt my tongue, watered down soup...who cooked these anyway. But I didn't bother say anything, I know they'll pounce me if I do... I was ushered out from my tent, shivering at the cold weather and the cold water, trying to keep the rumbling noise of my unhappy stomach down, and trying to act my best. It worked, a bit. A man, older than the others, the one I was introduced to as the leader of the group walked over me, and gave a low growl...I think he doesn't like the idea of a miss-goody-two-shoes. Then he slapped me... and left. It hurts! I stood there in awe, until I jumped off from the ground when someone touched me on the shoulders. I looked up, and saw the boy from last night, his eyes full of pity and concern. "Hi! I am Gawain, I'll be teaching you things from now on." "I'm Trowa... well, not my real name, but that's what they called me anyway..." I smiled, trying my utmost to be civil to him. Then he walked away, his cold back staring back at me. I don't understand him... Never could understand him...how can that be possible? Ally in one second, and arch-rival in another? GAWAIN I saw a group of the more senior mercenaries entered that new boy's tent when I woke up this morning. A bad omen indeed... They tend to be seriously uncivilised around newer ones, especially young, beautiful ones, like him. I am of normal looks, I shared my looks and build with a million other people, easily missed... but him... that's another question. You could spot him from a mile away and gape at his build and looks... but that doesn't get him anywhere in the group, well, somewhere, if you include the seniors bed and the such. I pity him, but... pity is weakness here. I was so lost in my own musing that I didn't know that they had dragged him out from his tent. He's shivering and... maybe hungry too. Those people are not cooks. I've figured out since I first came here to cook my food by myself and be very territorial, even though that means being cast out from the rest of the group and being hit now and again. But at least they kept their distance for once. I saw him being approached by the gang-leader. Oh yes, a very bad omen indeed... if you look at the feral glint in his eyes... he scared me, some of the older ones admitted once that he even scared them one time or another...even now... Then, a tight slap. The boy might not know why, but well, it's pretty obvious for any other of us. the gang-leader doesn't like people who rise later than him, and to make things worse that boy woke up later than the rest of us... I was told, the night before that I am to teach everything to the boy. Maybe because I am nearer to his age than anyone else. And to be truthful I am quite fond of him. I approached him, who had been deserted by almost everyone, and slowly put my palm on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze of assurance. He looked up. Oh those brilliant eyes of confusion... "Hi! I am Gawain, I'll be teaching you things from now on." I said. "I'm Trowa... well, not my real name, but that's what they called me anyway..." his first few words are hesitant, but I saw his effort to be cheerful and well...depending. And being dependent is not a thing to be bred amongst us mercenaries. That made me furious. He's supposed to learn that by now! I stomped and turned around sharply. I walked away. I hurt him again. But I have no choice. ZECHS The boy...what's his name? Oh, Trowa. He looks so helpless. I flinched when I saw that authoritative person slapped him across his face. I don't know what happened in the tent, however... but something MUST have happened. But what can I do? Go in there and help him out? Hardly... that would be impossible. Then? What? Just be an onlooker and pray? That seemed to be the only way... Give him occasional help when needed? Maybe... What is this feeling anyway, why am I drawn to him? I don't even know him... This is ridiculous... I smiled, and I heard: "Captain Merquise! Where are you" I sighed, these people, useless, can't be left alone. I gave another look at the bewildered boy, crouched on the dusty earth, and walked away. Looking and keeping from afar would be the best idea. But why would I even do that? *** And lest, my beloved, the boy grew up with the mercenaries, with his friend Gawain, teaching him the tricks of trade, and young Trowa grew to be a fine mercenary. Until one day... *** TROWA This person we are pursuing had the largest sum of money tied to his head, more than anything that the group had ever seen before. But, as that sum of money is big, so as the person being very murderous and dangerous... We tracked him down for months, for years, across the colonies, doing menial mercenary tasks along the way keeping ourselves alive. I've learnt some tricks from Gawain, learnt to cook decent food, and learnt to be territorial. Then one night when we were having supper, Reginald, our scout came and shouted the words. "He's there".This means that our prey is nearby. The pursue was swift and fast, very commendable and satisfactory, Until, Gawain got shot. Lying there lifeless... My friend, my mentor, My arch-rival, I feel like dying myself... And my world darkens around me. ZECHS I saw him got shot, Gawain... the friend of that boy I had my heart on. Gawain was a very good mentor and friend, being nice or harsh at the right moments, and I could see why he became the life thread of that boy... and now he's dead. I saw Trowa rushing to his dying comrade, I saw the trails of silver tears rushing from his eyes and creating streams of glittering pain in the moonlight, I saw how life drained from Gawain, and how life drained from Trowa... I wanted to reach out, But I can't I am a shadow for him I didn't exist in his world, I saw how my protégé collapsed beside his mentor, beside his friend... I saw how his life meant nothing anymore... But I am here, Trowa! Can't you see? I can be your strength and I always will... But the wheel of Fates dictated not that... So I turned my back on the scene, That's the only thing I can do, That's one sin that I have done... Not being there with you, But, don't you know, my heart breaks with you? Heavy hearted... I went back to my subordinates... Went back to my fold... And continue looking, without being able to do anything... How I wish things could be different... *** tbc okay!this is supposed to be the end of act 2. very, very different from the AMP Swan Lake, but hey! Can't make it fit... Trowa wasn't a prince, wuz he? <>< JejeFish! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- comment fish <>< Remnants of My Dreams - ACT 3 Disclaimers as usual, and the others, as well.. I wonder what that is, anyway... Oh and, brace yourself for OOCness (as all my fics are) and sappiness and mushiness (well, this is the first time I put something into something) Remnants of My Dreams part 3 based on Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake (c) Adventure in Motion Picture, 1996 UK tour 2000 --------------------------------------------------------- Well, my dear beloved, years had pass by and our little boy is now an agreeable young man... teenager... He had long left the group of mercenaries... but not without any scars in his heart. First, because his dearest friend, Gawain died in one mission, secondly, because of the ill treatments he got from his fellow mercenaries... even though ill treatment is an understatement. And most of all, he chose to be a Gundam pilot, and four new friends... But he is closest to a pilot by the name of Quatre Raberba Winner. *** TROWA It's a nice day, today... and we are just over with our last mission. It went fine, but with considerable amount of damage. Heero and Duo have both been hospitalised for their injuries, Wufei had miraculously survived the mission, only Quatre and me left considerably unscathed, partly because our Mechs took most of the blasts, and partly because we were caught up around the base and not somewhere near the front line. And lots of civil casualties. Quatre and me decided to spend the day with Heero, Duo and Wufei, though most obviously Duo, even in his nearly unhelpable state, could still make the most noise out compared to the rest of us combined together. So, here we are, standing in the reception hall of the hospital, trying to make our way through the crowds anxious to see their loved ones and make sure they are fine from the incident. We, me and Quatre, are doing fine until a small little boy stumbled our way and bumped hard into Quatre's injured hip. Oh you should hear him 'yeowl'-ed. It is rare of him to let out such a loud noise and such strand of words, which is supposed to be Duo's department. I scooped up the young lad and asked both of them, whether they are okay. Quatre, an angel as he is, said it'll be fine, but scurried off to find a ready physician...I know he is in so much pain. I turned my attention to the boy in my hands. He had such an angelic look, very handsome in such a young age, he couldn't be more than seven or eight years old. Big blue eyes, a mop of ebony-coloured hair... "So, young un... where's your mommy?"I asked, trying to be less intimidating as possible. "Huh?" his eyes widen into an impossibly questioning pair of deep blue crystal orbs."Mo..mmy?" "Uh...your mother? Or your father?" I asked again. He shook his head vigorously, and I feared it'll snap. "No...nurse said they've gone to heaven..." and he burst into helpless stream of crystal tears. "They left me alone" I walked to a nearby vacant seat and sat there, placing him on my lap "... Now... now... it's not all bad you see, My parents had left me too, they went to heaven" "They are bad too?" I chuckled, "Of course not, it's just that they are making a nice home for me, when I came to join them next time..." A white lie...how many times in my childhood and in my adult years that I blamed them of what I am now...how many times had I blamed them for my luck of getting picked up by a bunch of mercenaries... of why they have to leave me, and make me meet Gawain, and made him leave me, again? My train of thoughts were cut short by the boy tugging at the sleeves of my shirt. "Are you all right?" he asked. And I tried to choke back my tears. I lifted him up as I stood and walked to the direction of Heero, Duo and Wufei's room. "Little one, I want you to meet my friends." And I could swear he lightened up. ZECHS I haven't seen my young boy for a long time, even though I tried to catch up with his affairs. I've heard him becoming a Gundam pilot, for L3 colony. an enemy to OZ by right... an enemy to me? How am I supposed to protect him now? Without hurting him? Then I saw a glimpse of him in the crowd. With his fellow pilot...Quatre, if I am not mistaken, the rich Arab. unmistakably going to visit their wounded friends. I must admit they fought well, Trowa no less. But how can I say? That I cared about him? Now that we are at the wrong side of each other? TROWA I could hear Wufei sighing again, it.s the bazillionth time he did that today, mainly because of this young little boy who grew restless around my friends. Not even Duo's endless chatter, or Heero's poisonous remarks or Wufei's glance of daggers could restrain this little boy down. Quatre came in minutes later, only to get a bit irritated, a bit... because he's Quatre... with this particular nuisance...I tried to reason with myself that maybe this boy is in need of a friend... and instead of one, he got five new ones now... Then it dawned to me that I haven't known his name. "Little one..." "I am not 'Little One'" that witty young boy remarked, "My name is Gawain!" I was in shock! Gawain... Gawain... I looked into those round innocent eyes... ebony hair... Gawain! He looks like Gawain... Suddenly my heart clenched, It hurts... I wasn't there when Gawain needed me... When he died, I wasn't there for his last breath... I wasn't there for his burial, even though the gang-leader had been extra nice to me and asked me to...more than once... I wasn't there when he needed me, but he was always there, when I needed him... I always swore he'll pay for what he had put me through, because it's unbearable... Never once thought he went through the same thing too... Gawain... Gawain... I rushed out of the room, ran down the flight of stairs and bumped into almost everyone... I know my friends are astonished, at the very least... surprised... I don't care! I can't care... ZECHS I almost dropped my blood sample vial when I got hit by someone... I muttered a small curse under my breath and spun around to see who knocked me, and a dozen of others, over...hoping I could shoot the person... Well, I got ticked off easily these days... Trowa! He was a perfect duplicate of the small young boy, years back, when he ran to catch the lifeless body of his friend. He, now, was doing the same, and for the life of me, I couldn't make out why he was so distressed... yet again... distressed? with his new friends? Those crystal clear tears, always captivated me, in one way or another... Those light sprints And I looked up to the second floor balcony, hoping to find some clue and saw the young boy he took care of just now. And I could swear that boy was...smirking? And it dawned that the boy looked like... Gawain! Someone was putting some trap! Spinning false images... Why? I turned to look at the fleeing footsteps and Trowa disappeared in the crowds. I felt myself went limp. For another time, I couldn't provide help for him... For another time, he's hurt again... Under my nose, Without me, even being able to help in the remotest way... And I promised to protect him? I laughed at myself, to the point of tears... >>> tbc there! the third instalment. I have to run off and make myself my 'packed lunch' for TC, and I'll be back for the fourth instalment! see ya... and keep the C/Cs rolling hon... <>< JejeFish! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- comment fish <>< Remnants of My Dreams - ACT 4 Ummm... the continuation... things have gone a bit boring in the first three part... I am trying to get things sorted out now... All the disclaimers blah dee blah blah... I don't know whether the 'searching each other scene' (you well know what I mean!) is here or in the next part... Oh yes, maybe OOC... very high maybe... you know why!! Remnants of My Dream part 4 based on Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake (c) Adventure in Motion Picture, 1995-1996 UK Tour 2000 ------------------------------------------- TROWA I ended up in a seedy club that I often see fleetingly when I traveled the remotest part of town. It best describes what I am feeling now, down, sort of moody, seedy... I went in, trying to lose myself in drinking, dancing, pissing myself off, and smoking, or others that I will never do before. I don't know I am capable of that... until now... I ordered a few shots of cognac, never tried that before, but then, I am not in the mood of reasoning good or bad with myself right now. I downed a few shots until I saw an unmistakably small figure at the end of the club... Gawain? what is he doing here? I tried to level myself and walked towards the little boy, trying not to trip and fall or just hurt myself in the most stupid way... I am drunk anyway... What is he doing here? An underage? in a club of nothing but adult entertainment? And who is that man he was talking to? His father? no can't be... his father died, as well as his mother... Ah, maybe someone he know. Who am I to dip into his business? I moved pass the beautifully erotic dancers, and from the liquor soaked men, and edged my way through the rest of the crowds. Gawain and the older man looked at me as I approached them. Gawain's eyes widen, as if he is not expecting me to be anywhere near the club, or anywhere near him. He started to back away. I quicken my pace and caught the small wrist, maybe too quickly and harsh... He squealed and swore under his breath. I released him with a short soft apology, and he shot away. I was going to run after him when a strong hand caught me and restrained me from going anywhere but back to where the man was standing. "Hey! whatdyathinkyardoin'" his words fast and slurred. I stared at him, at his words, at his built... I had a feeling I knew him from somewhere... but it doesn't seem to click to any of my memory, which can be very sharp if I wanted them to be... A dejavu? hardly, though... But I brushed that question for later when I felt the large hand tightened considerably around my wrists. "Hey, Iaskedwhatdyathinkyardoin'?" again... very long slurring words that I can't made out. I pointed to the boy and said, "I need to talk to that boy, urgently... really." "He's not in the mood of talking... bug off, kid!" the guy seemed to spell his words out, since it has become clearer now, and that doesn't mean a good omen. I twisted free from the man and ignored his shouts as I approached Gawain. I got hold of the small shoulders of the young boy and turned him over to look at me. "Gawain..." I started softly, "what are you doing here? aren't yo u supposed to be with Quatre?" He looked at me in utmost disgust and to my surprise, he spat on me. "None of your business, you made my life hard as it is already!" He yelled at me and broke free, stomping away into a corner, only to bump into a middle-aged man who quite happily fondled with him... I stared in disbelief... I turned away and headed to the cheesy bar and ordered some cheesy mixture of something in something. Such night. Suddenly the man who confronted me was beside me, again. I cringed, not because he's big, I could easily run him through if I wanted to, but I cringed because of his likeness to someone, who made me traumatic of such and such kind of face and build. He turned out to be nice at me. He pulled my drink off from me and ordered with a bark the most decent drink of the bar, which turned out to be the most expensive... he gave several shots for me and patted me on my back. "Look here, kid. He's dangerous okay. Young un, but very dangerous. I suggest you not playing with him..." I stared for the third time, maybe more, in one day. "dangerous?" The man sighed and sunk deep into his chair. "Yeah... very. I don't know what he did to you, but you're lucky he got tired of you fast, usually he screwed people up so badly that..." then a heavy pause... oh you wouldn't want to know that..." I looked at the man, then the kid... back and forth as if not believing what I heard. "That kid?" "Yeah, who else?" he nodded, and left, but without patting my back first of all. *** You see, my beloved, that Trowa was haunted by his past and even his present. But then, all these, what will be of his future? And the story rolls, my beloved, that he should meet his "guardian angel" that with that meeting he will not see a long future from himself... and with that meeting too, he will taste the bittersweet of knowing and being known... *** TROWA I don't know how much I drank, but all that I know is I am one of the last customers to be staying there... Lets just say I am eyeing on a particular somebody. Gawain. The next thing I know, the Drag Queen who is the bar attendant shoved me off into the street, with a harsh, "We are closed." Maybe there are some other string of words, but I just can't make it out anymore. I'm too drunk. I swayed as I picked up my jacket and the world swayed with me. The swanking noice of cheap music heightened the sway and made me feel sick. The bar door opened as I threw up. The girl who came out from there swore strings of words, both known and unknown to me... I watched her blend into the night's darkness and I moved to a warmer corner. The door opened again, and two sailors that I saw being intimate with the boy and doing whatever they are supposed to be doing with one another, walked out, swaying and swinging and singing, as drunk as anything. They saw me crouched in the corner and approached me in a very foul manner, catcalling and... flirting? if you want to say that... I gave no second thought on them,and they left, swearing in a more colourful and illustrious manner than the girl before them. And people kept streaming out from the club, mostly drunk, mostly better-off dead than alive. And Gawain came out, with the man who seemed to be friendlier than most of the club-goers. To my surprise he tore away his clothes, revealing a mercenary's gear underneath, tore away his hair... his fake hair, and revealed himself, more clear than anyone else. The gang-leader! I curled myself deeper into the shadows and watched the exchange between the two of them... The man, now being very clear than ever pressed some large amount of money into Gawain's hands... and laughing endlessly. Damn! but why? why would the gangleader wanted to screw me up? I don't think I am a renegade or something... Not one I know is a renegade, or close to a criminal... why? I spread my jacket on top of my body, blending into the shadows as both went up the street and disappeared. I looked out from my hiding place and traced my eyes on the trail they left, definitely walking to where the mercenaries' lodgings are. Sometimes mercenaries can be so predictable in choosing their place of stay, making it easy for anyone to access, and kill them... or get killed... I stumbled onto my feet in disbelief and ran blindly into the night, not knowing what to do, where to go, and why... I am just so lost... Gawain... All the memories just surfaced up into my head and spun themselves stories that caught me all the way, caught me in a pang that life cannot redeem, caught me in a wave of nothingness... *** SOLDIERS OF Oz We saw him there, crying his heart out. We saw him there, anguished. And when we saw him, We saw the heart of our capain, That none can see. ZECHS I watched him, from the shadows, with my subordinates. Not that we are spying, lets just say we hang around there for long period of times, getting out from duties and slipping for a few drinks. Oh I should have known, the mercenaries wouldn't like to let go of their prized warrior, if not, bedmate... But I can not do anything, lest fate dictated so. And we, me and my subordinates, walked to a park, which is just a short distance away, getting ourselves an unadulterated night out. >>>tbc Okay, this is the fourth part, and I think the Act 4 ends here. Next act would be the promised scene... I am still thinking how, but eventually it'll come... <>< JejeFish! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- comment fish <><