Dedication: My great-grandmother was a talented artist, and an intelligent, forward- thinking woman, who devoted a large portion of her life to charity work. She died in 1989. Her daughter, my grandmother and my mother's mother, also actively works to help raise money for charities, as well as wholeheartedly filling the place of carer to all the family. My mother is a teacher who has dedicated much time to doing everything she can for her pupils. This story is for them.
(Because we do not understand one another.)
I remember clearly the day Relena first fell in love. It was obvious to me what had happened as soon as she got home; I recognised that look in her eyes. I had seen it before. The fear, the excitement, the awe; it was all familiar to me. I had seen it on my father's face the day he met the woman who was to become his mistress. I had seen it on my brother's face the first day he took a gun in his hand, shortly before he became a pilot and was shot down and killed on his first real flight. I had seen it on the face of my best friend, Suha, a few days before she ran away to be with her female lover, the last day I saw her.
Relena did not confide in me what had happened. We have never been like that, she and I. My daughter--and yes, I have always thought of her as 'daughter--is a fiery girl underneath her calm exterior, with a love of the brilliant, the dramatic. I have never been openly active enough to really gain her interest. To be honest, I never really tried. I am soft-spoken, gentle and unassuming, seemingly compliant and difficult to anger. A mother. Relena's mother.
I have always wanted a child, ever since before I was married. I used to work as a nursery teacher back then, you know. My parents' friends laughed at me for taking such a humble position, but I did not mind. It was what I wanted to be doing.
After my husband's death, I tried going back to my old line of work on a part-time basis. It didn't work out, though. The media started coming along to photograph Darlian's widow playing at being normal. I had to resign for the sake of the children.
I'm not sure if Relena noticed. She was confused and hurt when she returned home from space. The man she'd called 'father' had died before her eyes, and his last words had been to inform her that in fact, she was no relation of his. He had meant the world to Relena. She felt as if he had disowned her.
Relena cried when I asked her if she knew. I never meant to make my daughter cry. She let me hold her in my arms for the first time since she had been a little girl, and buried her face in my chest. I've kept that piece of my dress with her tear stains on it, unwashed and sealed in an airtight bag, locked inside a little box given to me when I was a little girl. I can't remember by whom.
Relena told me I'd always be her mother that day. I've always wondered what that meant.
I wore grey for my wedding. A grey cotton dress with a plain, uncomplicated cut. Simple, like me. My husband and I were married in a registry office. That was before he became a well-known public figure; that happened after the collapse of Sanc.
Over the next few years, I learned photography. It was a good way to pass the time. After a while, I began selling my pictures to magazines. I suppose that's not really a very exciting vocation, but it suits me well.
I go out for long walks whenever life starts to feel too suffocating, and take pictures of anything beautiful. I don't look back over my photos afterwards. In processed form, they hold little meaning for me. I'm a photographer for the moment of capture, because that's what makes me smile. Then I can return home and go back to being a society lady, always in the public eye. Always under scrutiny.
I never meant for Relena to have that kind of life, but it happened anyway. She was born for it.
Even at school she was treated as someone special; someone to be pointed at and whispered about and adored, instead of just another human being. I know things like having a limousine didn't help, but really, it was because of her status, and the popular image of her as the perfect little girl.
I think that's why she was so quick to fall in love. The first time someone treated her without kid gloves she was enthralled. And she was driven to work hard to gain the respect of this person.
They're getting married now.
When I got married, I thought I loved my husband. He was so much like me: hard working, dedicated, caring and calm, but without my lack of self-confidence. He was perfect for his position as minister under the King of Sanc.
Over the years, I found that I was wrong. I did not love my husband after all; I merely cared for him, and enjoyed the feeling of being important to someone for the first time since Suha left me. I never considered divorcing him, or separation. I was content as I was, even without love. It still hurt me when he died.
During the later stages of the war, in AC195, I would often get visitors coming for tea or coffee and cakes. I haven't had friends for a long time, although I'm sure there are many that consider me as such. My visitors would offer condolences on my husband's death, and ask me how my 'daughter', the Princess, and later, the Queen, was getting on. Very often, I did not know. Public information was not very good at that time.
I suppose I could have used my connections to find out what was going on, but I did not want to put anyone at risk, and I always assumed that if there was something truly important going on, Relena would tell me. It came as a shock when I discovered that she had gone into space to try to reason her brother out of starting a war. It must have been hard for her, at the age of fifteen to be betrayed, to see the whole world betrayed, by her only surviving blood relation.
I took a picture of his grave, when he was thought to have died, and sold it to a leading newspaper. I had to use a fake name; Relena was against people making profit out of the war.
As with all my other photos, the money I made went to organisations and causes I support. A lot of these were underground during the war, and although most became legitimate under the new government, there are still a few which are frowned upon by the authorities. I have to be very careful. I've had to stop donating to some.
I'm not sure if my daughter loves her fiancé. He's a very attractive personality; fiery and full of vitality, with a feeling heart devoted to protecting people. She thinks she's found something special in him. He feels the same way about her. They're so similar; I can't help but wonder if she's repeating my mistake. I don't know how to tell her, though.
The End
(:./psyche/daughter)
