|
"Baby Series 3"Written By: Karina Rating: PG Spoilers: None Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing or the Characters from the series but the baby is mine. Pairing:Anastasia + Pagan Notes: Challenge 138. Baby Series 3 #186. Takes place immediately after Despair. Many thanks to ShenLong for her work betaing
this fic.
The Colour Of Blood Grand Duchess Anastasia watched Pagan as the dancing flame devoured the paper one piece at a time. It was something she had intended to do, but first she had wanted to bring home to Pagan how worried she was for their young King. She had succeeded and she held her peace as Hunter watched the flame. She plucked a cherry from the bowl on the table beside her and for a long moment studied the fruit. Rich dark red, cerise, crimson… the colour of blood. So much blood had fallen within Sanc's borders over the past years. A country that prided itself on being a bastion of pacifism and the streets had run red, not once but many times. To be honest, she was surprised she had survived to see a Peacecraft installed safely on the throne… though how safe he was remained to be seen. There were trying times coming and she was far from confident they could see this child of the line secure. He had so many doubts in himself, but he had strength enough to combat those doubts. They needed to ensure he heard less of the voices intent on bringing him down and more of the cries of hope for him as King. They owed him to secure his position and keep him safe, after all, it was through no design of his that he wore the crown. So many things surrounded him, reminding her of the blood he was steeped in. From the cherries to the rubies featured in the Crown Jewels, to the clothes he wore… They reminded her of the price paid to see him sit upon the throne. Moonlight on Snow she had called him all those years ago when, bleeding from wounds incurred in the fall of the palace, he had stumbled on numb feet into the Standing Stones. Such a small, helpless looking child, numb from the terrible weather and the more terrible events of the night. Such a pale child, all white and silver streaked with life's blood. He had given his blood that night within the Circle of Stone and though he had not known the significance of that giving, she had. From the line of pacifists Sanc had chosen a warrior to give his blood to the soil. Fantasy and poppycock, they would say. Superstitious rubbish. But was it? Blood marked him, from the haemorrhaging at his birth to the blood staining the soil of Sanc, the cerise of his uniform in Oz. He had commanded the forces that liberated Sanc from Federation rule. He was the one fate had aligned to sit the throne and see to the needs of the country. Relena tried her best, but her thoroughly modern outlook overlooked what made the people of Sanc what they were. Her brother would stand between the people and the outlook of the modern world and he would, in the fullness of time, bring about an acceptable compromise and merge the two peaceably.
~ * ~ |
