29-Jul-2001
Title: Here There Be Dragons 21/??
Author: Lasha Lee (anakerie@cinci.rr.com)
Pairings: 1x2, 5 x OC, OC + OC
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. The "Four Dragons" is a very old Chinese legend and not my own creation.
Warnings: Very mild angst in this part.
Notes: Okay, I SHOULD be finishing up my packing but my muse had other ideas.
It's funny what we think about, when we're least expecting to.
I stand here beside my friends... no, my brothers, and a group of young men and women. The planes wait behind us; different from the gundams we piloted so long ago, and yet waiting to become part of us.
And I think about the Four Dragons.
The story goes that long ago, when China was new, a great drought swept over the land, and the crops withered in the fields. In those days, the only water was the Eastern Sea, and the children of China were dying for the lack.
And watching this happen were four dragons. The Long dragon, the Pearl dragon, the Yellow dragon, and the Black dragon. The dragons had kind hearts and they ached for the humans, and they decided that they would help them.
So they flew to the God of Heaven, and asked him to grant rain to the people, so that they might live. But the God of Heaven refused their quest, not caring about the fate of mortals.
The four dragons realized that helping the people would enrage the God of Heaven, and might mean the forfeit of their own lives, and yet they could not simply stand by and do nothing.
The dragons flew to the Eastern Sea and scooped up water in their jaws, and sprinkled it over the fields. Again and again they repeated this, until the crops were once again alive, and the children of China were able to eat and regain their strength.
The God of Heaven was furious at the dragons actions and sealed each of them under a mountain. However, the dragons love for the humans was still strong, and they changed themselves into rivers. The great rivers brought life fully back to the Chinese lands, and the people would never suffer for lack of water again.
When I was a boy, I would often whisper that story to myself before battles. Instead of four dragons, we were five. We would risk our lives to bring water and life to the people. We would become their rivers.
My children love the story as well, and now I stand here and I think of them. And my own life is such a small price to pay for theirs. However, the thought of dying, of not watching them grow, makes me almost unman myself by weeping.
Shan and Meishel have already learned to count to five by dragon toes. Japanese dragons have three toes, Korean dragons have four toes, and Chinese dragons have five. And after her bath Meishel will wiggle her feet in the air and say "Look Baba. I'm a Chinese dragon." and I will laugh and embrace her and tell her that yes, she is.
Who will teach her these things if I am not around? Who will teach Shan?There are things their mother simply will never know about my culture, just as there are things in her own that I am unfit to teach the children. Without me they will grow up knowing only half of who they are.
Not acceptable. They are the product of two separate worlds; a blending of both and they need to know both. They need me.
Therefore, I must not die in this battle.
"Wufei? Are you all right?" Duo asks, waving a hand in front of my face.
"I will not be fighting with you right away." I blurt out. "I will rejoin you in battle when I can, but first I need to reach the planet. I need to get our families to safety."
"That's a really good idea." Heero agrees. "I was going to suggest one of us head to the farm. Duo and I will cover you."
I nod, grateful that they understand.
Denea, I think. Keep fighting. I'm coming.
She's such a small woman. Not much bigger than a child herself. But she will fight like a devil cat if they force her into it, and I almost pity anyone who tries to harm our children while she is around.
Almost.
I fall back into my own thoughts. I remember the first time we made love, right after we pledged. She felt so... right as I held her. My only other time with a woman had been on my wedding night to Meiran. It had been an awkward, frightening experience for us both. She bled, and I was too terrified to ever touch her again. We were fourteen years old; we left the marriage bed confused as to why anyone would want to engage in something that painful and demeaning.
But on that night, with Denea, I learned how wonderful it could be. And she knew of my limited experience and did not tease me about it. She taught me, with her tiny, gentle hands, how to please her, how to please myself. And when I broke down and wept afterward, she dried my tears and promised me that it would only get better from that point on. And she did not lie.
The only discord between us was on the subject of children. I longed for them; my wife did not. The very idea had made her shudder long before she lost her eyesight. "Sorry, Wu." She would say. "I'm not Mommy material. I can't even keep a potted plant alive for more than a week."
So the years went by, and I did not bring up the subject often, not wishing to upset her. And I would watch her playing with Rosemary and then Luke, and find myself hoping that maybe... maybe... and unknown to Denea I asked Nataku to have a go at changing her mind.
Two weeks later, we found out that she was pregnant.
To say that she was surprised is like saying that Jazz was a bit high-spirited. She wept, and lashed out at me for "doing this to her" and swore that the child would grow up hating her for all that she could not give to it. The idea of ending her pregnancy was never an issue; I could not have stopped her from doing it, but it would have been the end of our marriage and she knew it.
Given how small she is, she showed quickly. At that time we did not know there were two children instead of one, and I started referring to the baby as Shan. She thought it was simply a Chinese name I liked until Heero told her what it meant.
"'Mountain?' Oh, that's REAL funny!" She snapped, but she had been calling the baby Shan herself for too long a that point to stop. And each day, the mountain grew larger. Then we heard the words that changed our lives:
"I'm hearing two heartbeats here."
At that point, my wife very calmly asked to be placed in a coma, and threatened legal action when her request was denied. I dragged her out of the hospital room as she still cursed and waved her fist at the frightened doctor. I was more than a little frightened myself as she began describing all the things she planned to do to me with a dull kitchen knife.
"You weren't exactly complaining when we conceived them!" I reminded her. "I believe I still have the scars on my back as proof!"
And at that, she did the meanest, dirtiest thing a woman can ever do to a man.
She began to cry.
I spent the remaining months of her pregnancy doing everything I could to make her more comfortable, but it wasn't easy. I was either "fussing too much" or "ignoring her". The bigger she grew, the worse it became. She became terrified that she was going to trip and fall, and lose the babies, or accidentally feed them something poisonous, or let them shoot each other with neuralizers.
"Don't forget accidentally stabbing each other with katanas." I reminded her. "Toddlers are notorious for that."
She cried again. So did I. By that point, I cried far more often than she did. I found myself with what Duo called "sympathy hormones". I grew misty-eyed at sunsets, shooting stars, and pictures of smiling infants on laundry detergent boxes. When we went shopping for clothing, I grilled the poor clerks almost to tears about how tightly the buttons were sewn on and if the material was fireproof. I had nightmares about children waving weapons around as they sucked down fasteners and set each other on fire.
Duo publicly questioned my sanity on that one. I returned that I'd simply been around his children too much; I was expecting anything.
What I wasn't expecting was the reality of it when the time finally came. When my wife clung tightly to my hand and told me that she was trying not to scream, but it hurt so badly...
"Scream." I told her. "I'll help." My hand hurt.
So we screamed together, and soon enough Shan's screams were added to our own. Twins are usually much smaller than single births, and as I held him I marveled at how something that tiny could be that perfect.
And then it was Meishel's turn, and she was very tiny. So much so that they would not let us hold her immediately. While Shan was being cleaned up, our daughter was being taken to intensive care. And our joy was tempered by terror.
Denea cried that it was her fault; that her feelings against having twins had somehow hurt the smaller one. I was powerless to comfort her; I had never felt as weak in my entire life.
"She's fine." Came the answer hours later. "She's very small for a full-term baby, even a twin, but she has no health problems. She's probably the liveliest one we've had all year." And they gave her to us then; wrapped in a pink blanket, her little face dark and pinched.
"What do they look like?" Denea asked.
"They're dark, like me. And they have my eyes. And their hair is black, but that could change. They have your nose. They're the most beautiful things I've ever seen in my life." I told her honestly. "And our daughter is a midget, like you."
I kissed her softly. "And she's a fighter like you as well. Feel her grip."
We named her after the two strongest women we had known; my first wife Meiran and Denea's beloved Sheld.
Jazz came to see us. He was in that stage where boys look their silliest; all hands and feet. But he was so gentle as he sat down in a chair and held my children for the first time, and they cuddled against him.
"They like me." His voice sounded awed. "Can I keep them?"
"Over my dead body." Denea told him sweetly. "After what I went through to get them here?"
"Wufei? We're ready to go." Heero tells me.
I nod, the images of the past fading once more.
I head for my plane, and turn to watch them. They kiss deeply in the hanger, not caring a bit what the other pilots might think or say. I wonder what had been going through their minds these last few minutes. They stand there kissing as though it might be their last kiss, and it might well be.
And as I climb into the cockpit I think that once more, the dragons go to bring rain to the people.
And may we all return from this as dragons and not rivers.
I'm coming home, Denea. I'll hold you soon, my children. Be strong.
The rain is on its way.
End Chapter 21
(:./lasha/dragons21)
