11-Dec-2004
Title: Ecumenopolis
Author: Mookie
Pairing: None
Rating: G
Word count: 756 (OK, so my [i]drabbles[/i] always end up as [i]ficlets[/i])
Warnings: Spoilerish for series and EW, extrospective
Notes: Dedicated to Merith, for her Christmas drabble request.
He accepted the cup of tea and took a sip, watching his host move about with seeming ease, among people that just two years ago had been complete strangers. But then, he'd come to learn that about Quatre. Although he was an open book most of the time, he could put his own problems aside when it came to his friends, acting as if the weight of his actions didn't threaten to crush him daily.
He smiled ruefully into his cup and shook his head, noting that it felt a lot lighter with his hair cut shorter. It now only fell to the middle of his back. He supposed he'd not been able to completely sever all of his ties with his past.
What would his father think of him today?
Zechs' eyes fell on Noin, who was laughing at something that Relena had said. His sister might not be a princess in name or title, but she'd certainly grown into the role. There was an elegance about her movements that he'd not noticed before. How long had she been growing into the young woman she was today?
Quatre joined the two women and watched as Relena placed her hand on his shoulder in a welcoming gesture. The young man visibly relaxed and smiled. It was fascinating, the way Relena seemed to have a soothing effect on his posture, as if she were the hostess and he were a guest unsure of his welcome.
Zechs understood that last part. His gaze moved to the open doorway to a room off the side, where the rest of the former pilots were involved in a game of billiards.
Wufei had just scratched, apparently, judging from the annoyed look on his face and the amusement on Trowa's as he reached in and removed the white cue ball. His mouth moved and whatever he said must have been amusing, because someone, Duo from the sounds of it, started to laugh.
It struck Zechs as funny, to hear Maxwell laugh that way. It didn't last long, but it was clearly a genuine indicator of his good humor. He'd heard so many men laugh as they went into battle, to meet their deaths. The sound still followed him in his dreams, among memories of Heero Yuy's determined visage over his vid screen, the images he'd had that had assured him that earth was their enemy, and that peace could only be attained through war.
He could still hear Dorothy Catalonia's cultured tones as she stood there and told him how brilliant, how beautiful, war was.
Back then, they'd all had their own visions of what the right path was. It was a shame that his own had changed so often. He looked at Noin again. That the woman could have such unwavering faith in him was either a sign of a great fool or a great friend, and probably a bit of both.
He dropped his eyes to the cup in his hand. It seemed incongruous to hold such a delicate piece of china. The filigree pattern seemed out of place beneath his fingers, yet so at home in Relena's. The king would certainly have been proud of the way she'd upheld his beliefs, although he likely would have frowned at some of her actions.
Was that all part of being a parent? If he'd had children of his own, would he constantly alternate between overwhelming pride and complete frustration?
He was almost sorry that Noin didn't want to have children. Part of him realized that it was very unlikely that any of them would leave behind a new generation. It was a frightening concept. Would the rest of mankind remember what had happened during the war, and provide an example to avoid repeating the mistakes of their forefathers?
He knew better than to expect the impossible, but sometimes it was nice to dream.
Zechs looked up when a shadow fell over him. He'd obviously become far too complacent here. No one ever snuck up on him that way, but then, Heero Yuy had always managed to surprise him.
Heero held out his hand, and Zechs placed his empty cup in it. The dark-haired young man met his eyes for a moment, then turned away.
"Heero," Zechs called.
The boy who had been his greatest rival stopped and turned his head. "Merry Christmas, Zechs."
Zechs settled back into his chair near the fire, and watched Heero as he went around collecting other teacups.
"Merry Christmas, Heero Yuy," he said quietly. "Merry Christmas."
The End
(:./mookie/ecumen)
