05-Mar-2001
Title: The Wyrd
Author: Dan
Archive: GW Addiction
Pairings: Not tellin'
Warnings: Some yech, AU, OC, violence, yadda yadda
Timeline: In between the series and EW but it's an AU so I am beyond the timeline!! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Rating: PG-13? No worse than Gladiator, really.
Disclaimer: Not mine, Don't sue.
Elsinore sighed as she watched her proud Warlord stalk about the tent. She fondly imagined her Warlord as a great blond lioness who would protect her people just as fiercely. The tiny flame-haired child understood the immensity of the duty that she was asking her Warlord to undertake. But she also knew that she could trust no one else.
"Regent? Me? My lady, all I want to do is go home." Charmiane turned to regard her Empress with eyes filled with longing.
The girl looked down at her delicate hands. "Charmiane. If you do not become Regent we may not have a home for you to return to. My Uncle wishes to become a tyrant. He will no longer allow the Senate to rule. Charmiane, I need you. Please."
Charmiane knelt next down and bowed her head. "My lady.... There must be another way."
"There is none." The child's high, clear voice held sorrow that was ancient and deep, as sorrow felt by all true leaders. She reached out to tilt the warrior's proud face up. "I'm sorry."
"Give me time. Just a little, to be with my family, and then I will come to Tipharies to become your Regent." Charmiane was far too proud to beg, but she came close. "Just a little time."
The royal girl-child tilted her head to the side. "Hurry, Charmiane, Warlord of the Northern Lands, because there may be nothing for you to return to if you tarry too long."
"Have you discussed this with Adrienna?" Charmiane knelt next to her Empress's chair, watching the flame-haired ruler with earnest, faithful eyes.
"Ah. Our fair prophetess has dark visions that I am hoping to prevent." Elsinore studied her hands and smiled slightly. "She can give us no clear guidance; apparently, her visions are clouded by a dragon from the past."
Charmiane frowned. "My lady, I'm a warrior, not a magick user; but I will obey you, and do my duty."
She blinked when the young royal framed her face with two pale hands. "Always the faithful one, Charmiane? You are the one I trust because you trust me. If I could find a way to bring you peace, I would."
The warlord watched in horror when one perfect tear spilled over Elsinore's cheek. "Empress...."
"Shh." The frail-seeming girl pressed two fingers against her lips. "I'm a little tired, that's all. It's been a long day. Walk me to my tent, Warlord of the Northern Lands."
"You were my inspiration." Mariemeia looked up to Relena with guileless cornflower-blue eyes. "Or, should I say, Queen Relena was my inspiration."
The sixteen-year-old pacifist could only stare in horror. That horrible joke that had been played upon her by the Romefeller Corporation was this child's inspiration for starting another war. Relena's hands tightened compulsively around each other. All she could do was stare at the small girl.
"Are you surprise?" Mariemeia tilted her head to the side and smiled. "You shouldn't be. Queen Relena, the only one who was capable of uniting all the world into one grand alliance."
"I never had any power. I was merely a puppet, as you will be." Relena's face was deathly pale with two high flags of color on her cheeks signifying her temper. "Your uncle is using you. Surely you see that."
The room resounded with crack of the child's small hand against Relena's face. The pair stared at each other as words that should have been said, and might have been said at another time and place, pulsed between them.
"I will not allow such talk from you." The finality of those words were made all the more chilling by the girl's high clear voice.
End Part 3
(:./dan/wyrd3)
