06-Feb-2001
Revised: 25-Feb-2001
Major revision: 20-Jul-2004
Title: Of Wolf and Man
Author: Dan
Archive: GWA (they have 1-3 already, and will have more shortly. BWAHAHAHAHAHA!)
Timeline: This is AU! So you can't wave the timeline at me! I am beyond it now KYAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Pairings: 2+1, mild (reeeeeally mild) R+D, phantom hints of 5+R, and then there's Aidan and well.... you'll see.
Warnings: This is AU. It has two OCs so far (I'll probably pick up a whole host of the little buggers before I'm through >.<) There is blood, violence, NCS references, yaoi, yuri, het, and a rather significant yech factor. Angst, Relena-torment, Duo-torment (I'm working towards that dammit!) And a favorable portrayal of the girls (So SCREW YOU my little Flamer KYAHAHAHA)
*whew* I think that's it.
Disclaimer: GW isn't mine. The mythology is nicked from LKH. She is a goddess, go read her books. Anita kicks my bitch ass. (Yes Tina, I stole your phrase ;p) I'm poor so sueing me would just be a complete and utter waste of your time. (unless you're sadistic and get off on sueing people. And then, my friend, you need serious help.)
Notes: God only knows where Victor came from. Relena sure does have issues
with those father figures, doesn't she?
"I know I should have told you
I was so afraid you'd leave
And now there's nothing left to say
Well, nothing that you'd believe."
--- Stabbing Westward, Torn Apart
"So, let me get this straight... "
For as long as we have known each other I've been running to Dorothy. I didn't always realize that was what I was doing, and it took longer still before I was willing to admit to it, but ever since the wars, I've run to her when I had nowhere else to turn.
" ...you went to your apartment, attacked and were attacked by a hot, second-generation Asian, red-headed werewolf, discovered that you're an alpha--no surprise there"--I made a face; she smirked at me--"went to the lupi... what was it called?"
"Lupinar, pack meeting place."
She mocks my stupid mistakes, gives me pitying looks, calls me names, and, in short, has saved my sanity more times than I'd really care to count.
"Right, that," she said dismissively, but I knew that the word had been filed away in that obsessive-compulsive, pack-rat mind of hers. "Where you had an interesting run in with some pack ghosts and met up with your ever-loving, surrogate father, werewolf king"--I made another face; she giggled--"Didn't like that description?"
"No."
I don't know why she puts up with me--put up with me at my idealistic worst and now puts up with at my cynical best--but she does and I'm not about to knock it.
"Poor thing," she said, voice dripping of insincerity. "Anyway, you have, in other words, have had a rather eventful evening."
Dorothy was sitting Indian style, her long hair spilling down her shoulders and over the side of the couch. Her eyes were bright and curious as she looked at me with her chin resting on her palms. She looked disconcertingly girlish and sweet.
"I never said Aidan was hot," I sullenly muttered.
"Not in so many words, no," she agreed.
Somehow during the war we had become friends, close friends. She was the only person who would listen to me and not the public image. Even during the war, when we both thought the other was completely off her rocker, she was the only one who listened to me. And, I guess, I was the only one who listened to her.
Listened well enough to hear the silences and all that clichéd drivel.
"And it looks like I can't get rid of him," I sighed from my spot on the floor. I stared up at the ceiling and wondered exactly how I was going to explain the sudden presence of a very eye-catching redhead. "How the hell am I supposed to deal with this?"
Dorothy lay down on the couch and stretched a hand out to me, running one finger over my upturned palm. "Like we've dealt with everything thus far, one step at a time."
I pressed the backs of my hands to my eyes, and then raked my hands through my hair. "Wufei is going to kill me."
"Why?"
"Because... " I couldn't think of an answer. "Because it's too sudden. Aidan's--"
"Aidan's bloody perfect," Dorothy snapped.
I blinked, startled out of my maudlin thoughts. "But... "
A quick snap of her hand cut me off. "No. Wufei will be bloody thrilled. A lycanthrope to guard you the way we can't? Someone to catch you when you finally snap and lunge across one of those negotiation tables to rip the throat out of some pompous prick? It's a fucking God-send, Relena."
I shut up. I'd liked to say that I gracefully, maturely accepted the logic of her statements, but in reality I lay on the floor and sulked. She hit me with a pillow, and then arched an eyebrow when I tugged it away sputtering indignantly.
"Stop pouting."
"'m not pouting."
"Stop sulking then."
I sighed. "I just don't want to tell Wufei."
"I noticed."
I really did not want to tell Wufei about what had happened at the lupinar, and I would have to eventually. I didn't want to see the look in his eyes--didn't want to see the resigned sadness as he watched me slip further away. Something told me that he knew what this was like--that somehow he'd seen this happen to someone before. And he felt he was fighting the same battle again, and loosing it again.
It was not comforting to look into his eyes and see his resignation to my doom.
She continued to give me that even, patient look she had learned from Une. It rankled a bit that she had learned to be serene and unflappable while I had continued to be petulant, irritable, and rash. Oh well, it got the job done. She delicately brushed my too long bangs from my eyes, and tucked them behind my ear, like you would a sulky child.
I closed my hand around Dorothy's. "I'll call Wufei in a little bit."
"Good." We both knew that he wouldn't really mind being woken up at five am. Not for this--not if I was manifesting yet [i]more[/i] otherworldly powers. And if I told Wufei then he would tell Sally and I would be back in her lab as she poked and prodded at me, trying to figure out exactly what was happening. Sitting in one of those thin paper-sheets doctors fondly call 'robes' and listening to her talk about rapid genetic mutation, new types, and aberrant cell formation. I had a new and profound sympathy for cancer patients after that first trip.
"I hate this," I announced as I stared blankly up at the ceiling.
"I noticed that as well," Dorothy commented dryly. Then she gave me a more serious look. "You're going to have to get used to this eventually, Relena."
I gave Dorothy a decidedly unfriendly look, and she responded by turning her hand around in mine and gripping down. Hard. "You have to let them into your life sooner or later."
I scowled. "I am."
"No, no you're not," she sounded bone-tired. It was an argument we had be over a thousand times before, and probably would go over a thousand times again. "You never let anyone in unless you have to."
"I have." I was a little hurt at that, and defensive, which wasn't a good sign. If I was defensive, that probably meant she was right.
"No, you have not," she sounded sad despite the bite of her words. "If anything, Relena, you've pulled even father away."
"Have I ever mentioned, Cat, that I really hate it when you go all psychiatrist on me?"
Not even the use of her hated nickname got her to change that all-too-serious expression. Those glacier eyes flicked over my hair, my face--god only knows what she saw there--my hands, balled into fists so tight my hands were white-knuckled and shaking, and sighed.
"Don't say it," I told her, looking away. Looking up to watch the fan make its lazy, ineffectual circle. The damned thing never made anything cooler; it just swished the hot air around. Rather like the political process of the new government. That thought depressed me further. I didn't change, the people around me didn't change, the society we lived in never changed. I rolled over onto my side. "Just don't say it."
"You've never dealt well with anything that doesn't go according to your carefully made plans. Never," she said, completely ignoring me. "And you have always hated being different."
I gave her a look. "How could I hate myself for being different? I've been different all my life."
"Need I state the obvious?"
"No... "
We sat in uncomfortable silence for as long as it took me to finally break down and sit up to face her, which wasn't--in retrospect--all that long. I think maybe fifty seconds or so. Nearly a new record for me.
Dorothy arched one eyebrow at me, waiting for me to spit out whatever was on my mind. She'd developed a talent for simply out waiting me. She'd always been patient, but over the years she had cultivated the ability to make you understand, at some fundamental level, that it was only a matter of time before you did what she wanted. It was a skill I wished I had, but patience has never been one of my main virtues.
"So how am I supposed to 'get used to' the fact that I turn into a bloodthirsty beast once a month?"
Dorothy gave me a look of deep seriousness, and said, "Relena, I understand that your PMS is a dangerous and terrifying time of the month for all involved, but I wouldn't put it quite like [i]that[/i]."
I shot her a dirty look. I did not appreciate being mocked during my time of trouble, but blind support was not something that Dorothy has ever believed in. That was, technically, a good thing, but that didn't mean I liked it any. Sometimes, you just want someone to pet your hair and tell you pretty lies.
"Cat."
"I'd apologize, but you were about to go off into high melodrama."
I made a disgusted sound; though for the life of me, I wouldn't have been able to tell you if I was disgusted with myself or with her. Either way, she had a point; she had had many points over the years and I'd learned that it was generally a good idea to listen to them or suffer.
"I don't know what to do about it," I told her as I had been telling her since all this began. "I don't even know how to begin to find my equilibrium."
"I know one thing you could do that would help: Quit. Work."
I scowled. This was one thing we had been fighting about for quite sometime. Dorothy wanted me to step down as Minister of Foreign Affairs even before the attack. She said I had given people enough. Said that I need to take sometime for myself. Said I was burned out. Also said, when I disagreed with her, that I was a stubborn mule-headed git with the self-preservation instinct of three-month-old ADHD kitten. She might be right, but that didn't mean I was going to let her know it.
"We've been through this before, Cat, and my answer is still no. Not yet," I replied. I didn't even sound mad. Just tired.
"If not now, when?" She asked, voice soft and sad. Dorothy reached out and tucked my hair behind my ears. Not letting me hide behind it. "If you aren't ready to let go now, then when will you be?"
"After this terra-forming contract is done for Mars," I said and even meant it. "Once we get that settled, then I'll quit."
"Will you?" She asked. "I don't think you will." I opened my mouth to protest, but she held up one hand stopping me in mid-syllable. So I sat and listened and fumed. "You won't because after this contract and licensing agreement you have to review there will be something else, something that needs you to be there. Not to do anything, but just to be there as some sort of living good luck talisman. How long are you going to allow yourself to be symbol? How long are you going to let them use you as a crutch to ward of the darkness in themselves?"
I looked away and gritted my teeth. "I can't just leave."
"Can't you? Others have, no one would blame you. And that government will never grow to be a power unto itself if it's legitimized simply because you're there."
"That's not the only reason it's there."
"If you really believe that, then let it go, Relena. Let them figure their own way through this."
"After the Mars negotiations are done I'll think about it."
"Relena... "
I gave her a look, a cold one that I used for ending debates that were simply not going anyway. "I'll think about it then."
Dorothy heaved a sigh, but let it go. She simply brushed my hair back from my face and cupped my chin. "Stubborn bitch."
"Yes, yes I am."
~~
It was because I was a stubborn, mulish bitch that I managed to get through not just one but two press conferences on nothing but caffeine and a wishful thought of a nap. I'd even been polite, decorous, and sounded like I actually gave a damn about whether company that was producing the engines for the terra-forming ships got 15% rather than the original 12.5% percent of the profits expected from project.
But as I stared out at the sea of faces that tended to blur together until they were one mass of pink, Dorothy's words ran around my head in an endless loops--as annoying as any pop song refrain that refuses to leave. The expressions I could make out just brought her point home.
In each pair of curious, trusting eyes I could see that I wasn't a person, or even a politician, standing up there talking to them. I was the Pacifist Princess who ended the Eve Wars, and I could do no wrong. That sea of faces turned up to me like I was some sort of messiah. She was right, damn her, as long as I remained in this office, as part for this government, they would never think for themselves or question what I said. Because I wasn't quite human to them, I was something more than that, and something less.
I had been playing the role so long that now I wondered where and what I was under that mask. I was caught between that façade and the beast that prowled right under the skin. Between them I was no longer sure where I was. And Dorothy was right, as she so often was, I needed to let it go. I needed to walk away now before I lost the chance forever, and lost what little bit of myself was left.
I sighed before I could stop myself. It was getting beyond old, this song and dance. I excused myself from the reporters who jumped up like excited dogs to bark their questions--each of them just a tedious and pointless as the next. All just as meaningless. Questions no one else cared about except for other journalists who would congratulate themselves and each other for being so very clever when they really weren't.
Sylvia waited for me at the wings of the stage. She held the files for my next meeting close to her chest. I frowned at her. I had been expecting Hilde, but she'd been missing for the past few days. I hadn't thought it too odd, until I found myself look at Sylvia who looked far too young despite her professional, carefully tailored suit.
She looked cutely perplexed and a little distressed.
"Do you honestly believe in what you're telling them any more, Ms. Relena?" Sylvia Noventa's voice carried worry the way other people's held laughter. I gazed down into those cerulean eyes and saw her conviction and her innocence. I wondered briefly if that's what Heero had seen when he looked into my eyes all those years ago. It made me tired just to look at her.
"Does it really matter, Sylvia? As long as they believe it, it's enough." I kept walking down the hallway, my black heels making soft clicking sounds on the polished marble. I had stopped wearing pink a long, long time ago.
"No!" Her denial echoed through the hallway. Golden hair flew as she shook her head to emphasize her rejection. Juvenile, perhaps, but it did make me pause and think. She stood with her hands clenched into fists, looking at me with tormented eyes.
"No, it's not enough! You'll be just like Treize if all you are doing is manipulating the people." The hopeless anger in her voice stopped me from making the polite reassurances that had become so common place. Was I just manipulating people the way he had? Playing games with them? No, Treize had believed in his vision of the future with far more passion than I believed in mine. If it really ever had been 'mine.' Sylvia looked away from me to the floor. "If you don't believe, then just stop. Don't lead us on like this if you don't believe in it."
I stayed quiet. Thought about just walking away. I didn't have any answers for her, but I'd be doing her the same injustice that Heero had done me if I just left her there with no explanation. I walked back to where she stood, fragile and afraid. When had I grown to be so tall? She barely came up to my nose; she was so tiny.
I tilted her chin up and smiled at her. "I don't believe in the abstracts anymore. They don't mean anything by themselves." I watched her bottom lip tremble for a moment and laid a finger over it. "However," something in that delicate face had me going softly where I would normally would not give a second thought. "I do believe in the people. I think the people will do what is right and they'll be able to do it on their own soon. Soon they won't need me for their figurehead."
Sylvia stared up at me and then nodded slowly. "I'm sorry, Ms. Relena. I'm sorry for doubting you, for questioning you."
That made me laugh. "What am I? Infallible like some sort of saint?"
She blushed a little at that. "No, it's just," she gave a helpless little shrug that she probably thought explained it all. And it did, unfortunately.
Sometimes it was hard to believe that we were the same age. I felt so much older than her. I felt so tired. I watched as she took a deep breath, smiled up at me, and then continued down the long hallway away from the auditorium. I looked back for a moment to where we had just held another of those repetitive press conferences. I kept saying the things expected of me, but somewhere along the line I had just stopped caring anymore. And for the life of me I couldn't remember just when that had happened.
"Ms. Relena?" Sylvia was waiting for me at the end of the hallway. We had a meeting with yet another industrial group looking to get in on the profits to be had from terra-forming Mars, and we were late.
"I'm coming."
End Part 4
(:./dan/wolf4)
