DISCLAIMER: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise, and Setsu Agency. This work is for entertainment purposes only.
WARNINGS: None for this chapter. Later chapters will be highly yaoi.
PAIRINGS: in future chapters 13xmany; manyx13; eventually 13x6/6x13
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is an AU fic based in Britain's Regency era (circa 1814 or so.) The story is told from Zechs's p.o.v. In this story, Zechs is approximately five years younger than the pilots and 12 years younger than Treize.
As he had wanted, we rose early the next morning and ate a quick breakfast in the inn's common room, nearly deserted at that hour, before climbing into the carriage for the last leg of our journey. My cousin looked no more awake this morning than he had the day before. He looked ready to go back to sleep, nestled into his cloak again, but I didn't let him immediately.
"When do you think we'll arrive?" I said, trying not to sound too eager.
"Midafternoon, I expect," came the sleepy drawl from inside the cloak.
Nothing more was forthcoming, so I probed a little more. "Is it a large house - the one you live in?" I said, secretly enjoying the withering look he gave me from his one open eye.
"Not large, no," he said, "but very old and very beautiful. Rosewood was built in the 1600s and has always had a caring owner. I wouldn't sell it for the world."
"Rosewood..." I said, rolling the name around on my tongue a bit. "Does that mean you have a garden? With rose bushes?"
"You're mind is like a rapier, dear boy," he drawled back, tone dripping with irony. "Yes indeed, I have a rose garden - one of the finest in Kent, I might add. And you're not to touch one petal of it, do you understand?" The single eye peered blearily out at mean from the recesses of the cloak and I fought down a sudden urge to laugh.
"Absolutely," I said at last and busied myself with the view outside my window, allowing Treize to snort and then close his eyes to nap.
The landscape had undergone an amazing change from the flat, gray fen country of Peterborough. The rain was only a light shower now and there were downs and pleasant lanes on either side of us. Everything seemed to be painted in colors more intense than any I remembered from East Anglia or even London. Even this tiny trip south was enough to make spring that much more a reality and my spirits brightened with every mile.
A particularly picturesque scene passed the carriage - a pale green meadow with a stream running through it and apple trees in early blossom,and I couldn't contain my excitement. "Treize!" I said, rather impatiently, my nose practically touching the window, "you're missing all this beautiful countryside!"
He muttered something about dreadful boys and then seemed to wake up. "Miriald," he said, "I *live* in this countryside, I see it every *day.* Surely there's no need to get excited about *everything.*"
He closed his eyes again briefly, which allowed me to stick my tongue out at him and our journey continued.
About an hour later he sat up in earnest and looked out the window. "Thank goodness for hearth and home," he murmured and our carriage began to slow. We were passing through a small village on the outskirts of Maidstone and Treize watched, enraptured, as the village gradually fell away and we approached a long lane of cherry trees.
I peered out the window as well, eager to see my new home. We came upon it suddenly, for the gardens surrounded it nearly completely, and when I saw it I couldn't stifle a little pleasured squeak. It was a very large, thatched roof cottage with diamond paned windows and climbing roses covering the outer walls. In fact, all the things around it, even the twin chimneys, were rather rosy colored and if it wasn't rosy it was a soothing green. The house seemed to glow with life and color, making it a dwelling unlike any I'd ever seen.
The rain that had dogged our entire trip had lightened to a fine mist and the sun was already breaking through a few small pieces of cloud. Treize alighted first, paying the driver, who then began unloading our baggage. I stepped out next, gazing up at the house, and came to stand beside Treize. "It's beautiful," I said, "truly beautiful. You must hate to leave here."
He was silent for a moment and then said, in a low voice, "Sometimes... and other times I can't leave soon enough. With that, he turned away from me and strode up to the house, where a housekeeper was opening the front door.
I was introduced to Cubbins, a middle-aged woman of plain face and serious ways, who looked me up and down critically then seemed to sigh in resignation to my presence and bade me follow her up the stairs. I did so reluctantly, watching my cousin disappear with a pile of letters into a small study off of the front hall.
"Your room," she intoned, "is here." Opening a door off the stairway landing, she led the way into a small but handsomely furnished room with a simple bedstead, a writing desk, a bookshelf, and a lovely view over the front garden and drive of the house.
I had just spotted a rider approaching when Cubbins cleared her throat loudly and then gave me her own version of "the Rules."
"I keep to the master's schedule, so don't expect me to change anything for *you.* Bath water is ready every morning at 9am. The master insists on daily baths and you'll not be arguing about it. Breakfast is at 10 am, not a moment before. If you finish your dressing earlier than that you will stay to this room, the morning room, or the garden - and nowhere else, do you understand?"
I looked at her, stupidly for a moment with my mouth open, and then stammered, "Y-Yes."
"The master has engaged a tutor for you. He will give you lessons from 1 o'clock to 4 o'clock on most days. There is a small sitting room downstairs you may use in the evenings, unless the master invites you into the main sitting room."
She was at the door now, again eyeing me from head to toe with a slight look of disdain. "I am to be found in the kitchen at most times. My girl comes in the mornings to help with the cleaning. You are not to disturb me unless it is an emergency and under no circumstances are you to go near my girl." Surprisingly, she did a slight curtsey and left, closing the door behind her.
I sat down on the bed and contemplated my new situation. The house itself was beautiful, the room comfortable, the garden very inviting indeed. It seemed I should have felt very happy there and yet, there was something underneath it all, a strange sense of hush and secrecy, that I couldn't quite make out. There was nothing to point to really and say, "There, that's it. That's what's odd about the place." But there *was* something odd, and the mystery of it piqued my boyish curiosity and made me determined to find out what it was.
When I looked out of the window about half an hour later, the horse was gone, and, I assumed, so was the visitor. This was confirmed a moment later by a loud knock at my door and the entry of my cousin into the room. He had changed from his traveling clothes into a comfortable looking nightgown jacket over his trousers and shirt, his boots replaced by soft, leather slippers.
"Well," he murmured glancing around the room, "what do you think of it, cousin? Will it suit you?"
"Yes!" I said, eager to seem agreeable. "It's wonderful, really. Thank you so much, Cousin Treize, for allowing me to come here."
He made a noncommittal sound and looked towards the bed where I had begun to unpack. "Are these really the only clothes you have?" he asked, waving an arm at the small collection of shirts, breeches, and coats I had brought with me.
"Yes ," I replied, somewhat embarrassed, "I... grew quite a bit last year and Grandfather said it was a waste of money to buy clothes that I wouldn't wear for long. Besides," I added, ducking my head a bit, "I never left the grounds, so I didn't need anything fine."
"Well that is certainly grandfather for you," Treize responded. His voice was full of disdain as he flung himself across my bed. "Now *I* on the other hand, say what is the point of having a body if one covers it in cheap and drab clothing? Like... this, for instance..." He held up one of my coats, a plain, gray one, between his thumb and forefinger. "*This* wretched thing is enough to give me melancholia for a week. And look at this - all breeches -no trousers for day wear? What era are you living in, this one or the last?"
He shook his head sadly. "No, there's nothing to do but buy you a proper wardrobe. Otherwise you'll disgrace me." Tilting his head to the side, he seemed to take stock of me and then pronounced, "I see you in deep blue with gold buttons and cream colored Cossack pants -- and for evening wear... blue as well, and maybe a deep plum also. I suppose I should get you something to wear around the house and some decent shoes. *Heavens* it will take quite a lot to make you fit for the public."
I felt wretched at that moment, knowing how he must have seen me, what he must have thought. I was a poor relation, indeed, and no asset to him at that point. I promised myself at that moment, however, to improve every aspect of my character that I possibly could, so that I would cause him no further embarrassment.
Glancing out the window again, I ventured a question about the visitor. "I saw a horse and rider come to the house. Have you friends come to call now you're home again?"
"You're prying, Miriald," he said quietly. "I have many visitors, you'll have to get used to being in the dark about them since most of them you'll never meet. Some of them are from Town, others from my small but intimate circle of friends in the district. I'll introduce you to a few, but really, I'm sure you'll have little interest in them."
"Why would you say that?" I asked, surprised at the statement.
"Well, after all," my cousin drawled, picking up a shirt of mine, examining it, then tossing it over his shoulder with a grimace, "you're a normal, healthy boy, aren't you? You enjoy pursuits appropriate to your age and station, do you not?"
"Yes... I suppose so," I said, warily.
"Well," he said firmly, "*my* friends are anything but 'normal' and many would question 'healthy' as well. A small chuckle escaped him. "We will cheer you as you make your proper little way in the world, but we will not choose the same path ourselves. No, little coz - you are as different from me and my friends as day is from night."
"What makes you so different?" I said, feeling emboldened.
He looked up at me, slightly bemused. "Many things, Miriald. The way we live, whom we love, the very way we approach the world. It's not something a child could understand, so you're better off not knowing too much."
I wanted to ask again - to find out more, but he held up a finger and stood, gracefully. "The interrogation is over for today. Come - let me show you the rest of Rosewood."
And with that, we left the room, Treize sweeping out of the door ahead of me, and my scurrying to keep up behind him.
End of Chapter 3
(:./kumiko/mor3)
