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"Fragments"Written By: Mookie
Disclaimer: I don't really need to be Captain Obvious here, do I? No ownership, no money being made. Written for fun, not profit. Rating: PG Character: Treize Khushrenada Notes: In response to gw_jeopardy Guns or Roses
category, 1000pts, in the crosshair Pairing: GW, none, Treize-centric
Treize Khushrenada leaned back in his hot tub and lifted
the flute of champagne from the rim. Ostensibly he was celebrating,
if only in the eyes of his Lady and a pair of twittering birds in
a nearby gilded cage, the latest victory in this war. His strategy had gained him the desired results. There
was more to successful battles than an army of skilled pilots and
superior mobile suits. They were of tremendous help, of course. Treize
wasn’t foolish enough to believe that their supply of land and
water mobile suits had nothing to do with their ability to best their
enemy. Brute force alone, however, would never result in a long-term
gain. Nor, he thought, was there any style or finesse to it. He spread his arms out and enjoyed the warmth of the
sun. There was a certain jubilance in acting out a plan and seeing
it come together, a sense of well accomplished gain, that couldn’t
be duplicated off the battleground, but Treize was a man who could
appreciate the finer things in life as well. Good wine, good sport,
and good conversation. He tolerated those with whom he could not converse
intelligently, but he did not respect them. He recognized his need
to appreciate that some men were of no use to him outside their mecha,
but history had shown that he was not the first commander who was
forced to work with soldiers who fell short of all expectations. It would be unreasonable to expect every man under him
to be Zechs Merquise. He held up his glass. It glinted in the sunlight but
if he lowered it the slightest bit, the jewel-like sparkle disappeared. Lady Une did not see eye to eye with Zechs. It was a
shame and he expected her behavior to be more gracious, but she was
still more devoted than anyone to what she believed were his ideals.
He’d told Noin to deliver a message to Lady, hoping that she’d
take the hint regardless of it coming to her second hand. He had faith that she would. While she was ruthless
when it came to battle, first and foremost she was still a lady and
it was to that part of her that his message appealed. Victory should
come as the result of a delicate balance of force, skill, and cleverness. He set his champagne down and stood up. The water streamed
down his body, droplets glistening on his skin like diamonds for a
second before disappearing into the tub. There were times when he
was tempted to give in to temptation and invite Lady Une in to assist
him with his bath; he was after all a man and the appeal of a beautiful
woman in the room rubbing him with a thick soft towel wasn’t
lost on him. There would be, however, ramifications of such an act.
He could give in to his baser urges and let nature take his course,
but that would put their future relationship in serious jeopardy.
Allowing Lady Une to attend him and treating her with indifference
was equally unpalatable, for he would never insult her by treating
her like an indentured servant. He dried off and donned a dressing gown, rich in color
and fabric. Treize appreciated luxury where he could. Denying himself
such things would do nothing to further their cause and he felt he
was in a much better position to make decisions when his mind and
body were at ease as much as possible. It was always a matter of balance,
to find tranquility in times of discord, but he was in a position
to achieve such a thing and it had not led him astray very often. He dressed slowly in front of the mirror, checking his
appearance carefully. A leader had to dress the part. Slovenliness
did not inspire confidence and he had enough self-respect to show
himself off to his best advantage. The rifle he removed from the cabinet to take outside
was old, not quite an antique but one that had long fallen out of
disuse. Treize admired it for the elegance of its design as much as
its accuracy. The clay pigeons awaited outside and he strode into
the sunlight, joining one of his men on the lush green grass. At times like these it could be easy to forget how much
was at stake, but Treize never let himself pretend that the war existed
only for others. He was not afraid to dirty his hands, but as he handled
his rifle with clean white gloves, he acknowledged that there would
be time for that soon enough. He looked forward to that time. Treize gave his man a nod and took careful aim, shattering
the clay pigeon with his first bullet. The next one took off before
all the pieces from the first one had hit the ground and it, too,
was annihilated. He spent the next hour out there but he never lost count
of how many he’d shot down. Seven more than he’d done the
day before and as usual he’d not missed a single one. The call he’d been expecting from Zechs hadn’t
come yet and he nodded again, shooting another pigeon and bringing
him eight ahead of the previous day’s record. He didn’t know what news Zechs would be relaying.
The Gundam pilots had gone into hiding and although Merquise was showing
an obsessive interest in at least one of them, it had done nothing
to adversely affect his ability to work with the Tallgeese. If anything,
it had driven him to master the Gundam. Fragments of the next clay pigeon he sighted in his
scope joined the others on the ground. The Gundam pilots, although they seemed to lack a sense
of unity, were formidable, not only in their skill but in their recklessness.
It was to be pitied almost as much as admired. For the briefest of seconds the pigeon took on the appearance
of a young boy, standing defiantly on the open hatch of his Gundam
with his thumb poised on a red button. When his thumb depressed that
button, Treize fired his next shot. He missed. He watched the disc fall to the ground where it would
likely crack upon impact. If it were capable of thought, Treize suspected
it would have preferred the same fate as the others. He lowered the rifle. “Excellent shooting, Your Excellency.” Treize returned the bow with a small one of his own,
turned on his heel, and walked back into the office. There was a small voice in the back of his head, one
he wasn’t foolish enough to ignore. The question plagued him
the rest of the day. Had it been? ~ * ~ |
