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It arrived on a little card, written in neat, elegant handwriting. It was much like the cards he used to leave Relena on her birthdays.
Heero frowned and read it again.
Heero Yuy,
I am delighted at the news that you have returned to Relena's side after all these years, after so much speculation and mystery. As her dear friend, I would like to spend more time with the man who she has chosen to share her fate with. If memory serves, you are quite the skilled fencer and I insist you allow me to entertain you. Indulge my whim, as a gentleman, by accepting my invitation to a spar. It has been far too long since I have had someone new to test my skills against.
My regards,
Dorothy Catalonia
He knew Dorothy and Relena had become close in the years since the war; the topic was regularly covered in tabloids but the actual nature of their relationship was up for debate among the public. The Catalonia heiress and Vice Foreign Minister - bitter rivals or bosom friends? There had not been an opportunity to talk to her about it, so Heero’s knowledge was limited to headlines.
It had been less than two months since he had decided to come back to Earth. He had found a job and a place to stay - Relena was often up late or traveling so there was little point to him living with her - and settled into a routine.
They had decided to keep their relationship private as they figured it out. There were few in Relena’s immediate vicinity who knew Heero, only a few friends that visited occasionally. The exception was Wufei, who still worked as Preventer, and if Wufei had said anything, Heero assumed it would be to the other former pilots or Sally. Definitely not Dorothy.
The delicate little card had arrived in his apartment, absurdly ornate, in direct contrast to his bare rooms.
She even knew where he lived.
Heero looked again at the envelope, which only had contained his name in golden lettering. No address, no stamp.
What the fuck.
“Heero.” Relena smiled as he stepped into her office, after being announced. He wasn’t sure if he was ever going to be used to the fanfare and rigidity in her life, but this was not difficult to tolerate. It simply unnerved him.
They waited for the man to leave the room before he leaned down to kiss her. Heero tried not to be greedy, but it was difficult to resist touching her now that she was right in front of him. She smelled of faint perfume and ink. Relena happily reciprocated his touch. Heero reminded himself of the large, open window and the two guards outside her door.
Relena broke their kiss, smiling. It was not the innocent and earnest smile from their past, but a complex, polite smile of an adult who didn’t want to be rude.
“Am I interrupting?”
She gave him another smile, this time apologetic.
“I thought I would be done by now, but I promise I’m close.”
Heero assured her it was no trouble - he’d rather wait for her than make her wait for him, and excused himself. He didn’t like being in her way, making her anxious with his presence, and had learned to keep himself busy.
It was a mansion that was more a place of work than a home. Built for a family, half the building was unused and only received occasional maintenance. Besides Relena, Relena’s mother would occasionally come to live with her daughter, but she spent most of her time in the Japanese estate Relena had been raised in.
He descended the stairs past the main floor into the basement, the housekeeper letting him pass without much notice. The staff were getting used to him.
In the kitchen there was a cook making dinner, a quiet affair compared to what the kitchen was equipped for. Relena always had a three course meal available to her - balanced, professionally cooked, and served hot, whatever time she was ready for it.
Heero filled the kettle, already set out for him, and placed it on the electric stand. 70°C for chamomile. The dried flowers were bulkier than most loose teas, so he needed an extra half tablespoon. The kettle’s electronic signal let him know the water had reached and Heero filled the teapot.
Ever since the Mariemaia coup Relena’s tea had to be prepared by a select few trusted aides and had to be tasted first - one of many strict regiments that eased her mind. Pagan usually took care of it but, to help occupy his time, Heero had learned to prepare several of her favourites. It was something he could do for her while she worked.
When Heero approached the study the two guards opened the door for him. He nodded to them as they passed.
“Thank you, Heero.” She was clearing her desk, packing her suitcase for the next day. “I’ll join you in a moment.”
The sitting area in front of her desk sat two antique couches flanking a coffee table made of dark oak. He set down the tray and set the coasters on the table, side by side. Two teacups, made of silver. He checked the teapot - the color was not quite right yet - before sitting down.
Relena swept across the room, pulling her hair out of its low ponytail. Heero drank the sight of her in, wanting to reach out and brush her hair away from her neck. Then he could see the delicate curve that drew your eyes to her jawline, her lips, her eyes.
Taking her seat, Relena leaned into Heero’s arms. Finally able to relax and be herself.
To be his Relena.
Heero pressed his face into her hair, grasping Relena’s far shoulder and pulling her in closer. She giggled, girlish and unpolitical-like.
“Chamomile?”
“You haven’t been sleeping well.”
He felt her sigh as she dug herself in a little deeper.
“This proposal - the mobile workers.”
“To recycle mobile suits.” Heero offered, rubbing his hand up and down her arm.
“Yes. I can’t shake the feeling that they’re going to be used to build weapons again.”
And yet some of the costs from Relena’s housing projects could be offset with the money from this project. Some of the former soldiers rehired.
Heero wrapped his arms around her - unable to help but unwilling to do nothing. She was and always had been stronger than him. All he could do was...
“Nevermind that, let’s have some tea. I’ll have them bring dinner in here - it’s cozier.”
Heero poured the tea as Relena called for Pagan. Both teacups in quick succession, no sugar, no milk. He waited for her to be back with her cup in hand before taking his first sip. She smiled and drank from hers.
“How was your day?” She pulled her legs up onto the seat, turning to him. Her long skirt rode up, revealing white stockings. She had not had the chance to change out of her blouse into something more comfortable.
Heero started to shake his head, then he remembered Dorothy’s note.
“Dorothy sent me a card.”
Relena’s brows knitted as she paused, her teacup poised for another sip. “Dorothy, as in… Catalonia?”
Heero nodded.
“How does she kn-” Relena stopped what she was saying and her eyes rolled up in exasperation. She took her sip of tea. “I should have known she would find out. I’m sorry.”
It wasn’t clear to Heero what she was apologizing for. That Dorothy had sent him a card? Or that she knew where he lived?
“Dorothy always seems to know what I’m up to. I honestly stopped asking how.” Relena sighed and set her cup on the table. “I should have realized she would figure it out.”
Heero stared at his own cup. He didn’t really like chamomile or tea, but the idea of someone having so much intel on Relena highlighted the bitter tones.
“Do you- is that okay?”
Relena seemed surprised by this reaction.
“Dorothy? I… haven’t really thought about it, really.” Their eyes met, Heero watching her face for any sign of distress. Relena seemed honestly unaffected by the idea of being closely watched. “She means no harm, but after everything we’ve been through, she needs some... assurances, you know.”
Like they all did.
Her unspoken thoughts rang through Heero’s mind. He was learning the idiosyncrasies that Relena clung to. There was security, of course, the personnel that worked for her were thoroughly vetted and held to strict codes of conduct and scrutiny.
And then there were the rituals that gave the illusion of control.
Relena was very particular about her tea and most of her closest acquaintances had learned to accommodate. Almost any drink, really. She always had to have an attendant available to follow a thorough investigation of the beverages being served and specifically the ones to her. It was lucky that it was easy to hide the neurosis in most public settings, with her army of attendants and guards available to her. After everything Relena had been through, it was simple accommodation to give her peace of mind.
But Dorothy… knowing everything Relena did. To allow her such knowledge was more than simple accommodation.
“-say?”
Heero’s attention snapped to Relena. She smiled, bemused.
“I said, what did Dorothy’s note say?” There never seemed to need to ask if he’d heard her.
“She invited me to spar with her.”
“Spar?”
He remembered now that he had brought the card to show Relena. He handed it to her.
“I don’t know how to respond.”
Relena read the card, her brows furrowing as her eyes worked through the neat little lines.
“I can see why. She must be up to something.”
“No- I… don’t know how to send a message back.” Relena gave him a questioning look. “She didn’t leave a return address.”
She sighed. Heero wasn’t sure if he had ever seen Relena sigh so much in their time together.
“She wanted you to show me. She wants me to know she knows.” Relena looked in the distance, thinking. Heero watched her silently. “What will you say?”
Heero set down his cup, taking the moment to consider his answer. “I accept.”
“I think that’s the right move.”
Before Heero had the time to decide if he was going to ask Relena about her relationship with Dorothy, the door to the office opened and Pagan entered with a fold out stand for the food the housekeeper was carrying. He stood to help the woman set the tray properly on the stand.
They had a pleasant evening, saying little but enjoying each others’ company. It wasn’t until later when they were in bed together that the topic of Dorothy came back up.
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“I can handle Dorothy. Whatever she has planned.”
Her smile, again. But this time it was genuine, brimming with sweet pride and contentment.
“I know that. But do you want me to come anyway?”
Heero pulled Relena in towards him, feeling her body through her nightgown. He buried his face in her hair, diving into the light scent of her sweat under the citrus shampoo.
“I’ll be fine.”
He kissed her deeply, and pushed himself up and over her. Her eyes followed, watching expectantly. She had a hand resting on his chest, and her lips were parted slightly. He could see the rise and fall of her chest, deeper and more erratic already.
He was done thinking about Dorothy.
Dorothy’s response invited Heero to her summer estate in the Alps. It was midsummer but the air coming off the mountains was cool. The taxi stopped in front of a large, handsome building of dark brick, sprawled across green fields and surrounded by stone walls.
He was greeted by Dorothy’s butler - a young man smartly dressed. Heero followed the butler up the main stairwell that elegantly bridged the entrance to the second floor. He showed Heero to a room with equipment set out for his match. Dorothy would meet him in the gymnasium.
There was a jug of water and an empty glass in the room. He was offered no further refreshments.
Only one jacket was provided, and it fit him well. The plastron, breeches, helmet… even the gloves were perfectly fitted. How Dorothy seemed to know his measurements, all of his measurements , down to the half inch, Heero tried not to think about. The woman was raised in Oz and likely still had access to much of the resources that had been scattered after the war.
She means no harm .
He trusted Relena. He always had. But Dorothy had too much power, and she was too close to Relena.
The butler led Heero to the gymnasium, on the main floor in the eastern wing and near the back. It was at least the size of a ballroom - perhaps it was in a previous life. He entered through a heavy set of metal doors. Above him, on one side, were rows of seats - cushioned and luxurious - that still sat low compared to the vaulting ceiling. The other side featured large glass panels that gave way to a brilliant view of the Alps.
His and the butler’s steps echoed, slow and distant, against the voluminous chamber. He was led to the far end of the floor where some of the glass walls, actually bifold doors, had been opened and the breeze brought sounds of water and birds.
Dorothy, half silhouetted, half drowned in sunlight, stood in front of the opening, inspecting an épée. Her helmet sat on a chair set out next to a sword rack boasting a half dozen different weapons.
“Ah, Heero Yuy.” Her voice came, low and powerful before he could see the expression on her face. “It looks like the equipment fits you well. I was worried.”
Heero didn’t respond. Dorothy did not seem like she needed one, anyway.
“I took the liberty of assuming you would be fine with épée. The other styles seemed too patronizing to me.”
He was close enough to see her face now, set into adulthood with fine, high cheekbones and brilliant, discerning eyes. She looked exactly as she did on print or video - not a wrinkle or imperfection to be found. One corner of Dorothy’s lips was turned up, but her eyes were a mix of amusement and contempt.
“I have a few choice weapons for you to consider. Take your time - I’ve already chosen mine.”
Picking up her helmet, Dorothy stepped away from the rack without turning her back to him. Heero watched her warily, more so because he knew she wasn’t going to attack. The woman was up to something, but he had no idea what direction to throw his guard.
The rack held five different swords, unsharpened, three different pistol grips, and two French. Heero looked at Dorothy’s - a French grip - and chose the same.
“The piste, whenever you’re ready.” Dorothy gestured to the painted strip on the floor.
Heero gripped the épée and gave it a few flicks - to measure the flexibility of the blade. Satisfied, he donned his helmet and stepped into place to face Dorothy.
“It’s been over ten years since I saw you fence. What do you say to a bit of a warm up?” Without waiting for an answer, Dorothy stepped past the en garde line and held out her épée. Heero followed suit and crossed her weapon with his own.
Dorothy tapped his sword and advanced. Heero stepped back in tandem and leaned away from the attack that followed. They paused, each studying the other’s stance before disengaging and returning to the initial stance.
This time Heero tapped Dorothy’s weapon and began to advance. Dorothy recovered quickly and moved to lunge, aiming for his turned torso. Heero fell back and found the space to parry her weapon, making her shoulder a target for a straight thrust. Dorothy dropped her stance and his épée caught empty air.
They paused again, each having overextended their positions.
“Like riding a bike, isn’t it?” They disengaged and righted themselves. “I’m sure you could use some brushing up, but nothing this level of warm up will help with.”
When she took her place on the piste, Dorothy stood at the en garde line. Heero followed her lead and retreated to his own before taking up his stance.
Dorothy was a skilled fencer who led the spar with confidence. She demonstrated with ease an array of techniques that combined defensive, offensive, direct, and indirect moves. Heero let her lead, reacting to her swift changes in style faster and faster as the muscle memory within him awoke and he became familiar with the weapon he was wielding.
“I see the long years have not dulled you too much.” She commented as he dodged her lunge. “I’m glad to see that.” She retreated to avoid his counter attack.
“Remarkably little about you has changed over the years.” Rather than return to the offensive, she stepped further away.
“I could say the same to you.” Heero inched forward, leery of her sudden change in style.
“Oh, so he speaks.” He couldn’t see her face through her mask, but the tone of her voice sounded like a smirk.
Dorothy was waiting for him to lead the spar, he realized. The sudden shift in the dynamic gave him hesitation.
“What’s wrong? You don’t need to be led, do you?”
Heero moved towards her, looking for an opening. Dorothy’s stance was open but her frame was small. A difficult target before even taking her agility into consideration.
“How unreliable.”
She lunged. Heero parried her attack but instead of retreating Dorothy pushed forward, flicking her wrist so her épée curved into his abdomen. It dug into the padding without breaking the fabric, but enough so that it would need to be intentionally dislodged.
Dorothy disengaged, but did not relax. She returned to her line and took her stance.
“Again.”
This time Heero attacked. Dorothy parried, and they carried their bout a while before Dorothy scored on him again. This time on his foot.
“Again!”
Her intensity was increasing. Heero found less and less opportunities to attack. She must have been matching his ability before because now Heero was getting scored on more than scoring.
But her breathing was becoming labored.
For all she was a brilliant fencer, the intense offensive was tearing at her constitution. She was a politician; white collar, physically taxing but not in the way that lent itself to a fight. He had spent the last several years in manual labor, and years before that a pilot and soldier. If she wanted to win Dorothy needed to be conserving her strength.
But, instead, she was wild. Just on the edge of control.
Again and again, Dorothy lunged, thrust, or attacked him. Heero kept the defensive, reserving his energy. He let her score on him, let her push him to the end of the piste. The longer he let this go on, the less it looked like fencing.
The more it seemed like she was out for blood.
She pushed him past the edge. Heero began to disengage, but Dorothy knocked the sword out of his hand.
“Why won’t you fight me?”
She thrust again, not giving Heero time to pick up his weapon. But she was losing concentration, losing power.
“Why won’t you fight me!”
He could easily sidestep her attacks now. Dorothy swung wildly, madly, trying to catch him with the blunted weapon. She lunged. He dodged.
There was a clatter as her épée hit the ground. On her hands and knees Dorothy gasped for air, her breaths wracking her body. Heero checked for his own weapon, for assurance, in case she caught a second wind.
His attention was brought back to Dorothy when she removed her helmet, her pale gold hair spilling out around her. It reminded Heero of Relena’s hair, releasing after a long day
“You only know how to run.”
Heero waited for Dorothy to move, half expecting her to stand and attack him again.
“These last five years. No, more .” Her voice was ragged, low. “You forgot how to fight.”
Last five years? He hadn’t seen Dorothy for much longer. Since Sanc Kingdom. When she was with...
“Relena.” It had been about five years ago that Heero had started seeing Dorothy appearing in the media, next to Relena.
“ She fought. She fought every day.” Heero saw that she wasn’t going to stand. Not sure what else to do, he knelt. “She never ran away or hid. Didn’t even think of it.
“And you were never there.”
They sat in silence for a bit, the accusation hanging heavy over Heero. He thought of Relena; respected, smart, and strong. He thought of how she tricked him when he first saw her again.
“When I met Relena again,” he started, slowly, “she was almost a different person.”
Her eyes, shining in the dark, much the same blue he’d always remembered. Honeyed hair that flowed gently against her skin. But the expressions were harder to read, the words more carefully chosen.
“Even as I watched her through the newscasts and interviews, I never imagined she could change so much.”
So many smiles. Once, Relena’s smile would mean… peace, safety. But now she had complicated smiles that sometimes told stories and sometimes said nothing.
But then she would pull him into her arms and they were sixteen years old again, finding peace in each other the same way they always had.
Dorothy threw her helmet at him. He was caught off guard but still managed to catch it.
“Don’t say it.”
Heero frowned, not entirely sure what earned her ire this time.
“Don’t say something stupid like you love her. I can see it in your eyes, but you don’t get to feel that way.” Dorothy was half facing him, having dropped her hips to one side to throw her helmet. She pushed herself up to a sitting position, her knees together.
“Changing yourself isn’t peaceful. You don’t get to wrap yourself in a cocoon and emerge someone different. No… you cut yourself open, split yourself in half, and fight to escape who you were.” Her eyes darted up to meet his face. “That’s what she’s been doing. And I was there. Quatre, Noin, Hilde… even the fool, Wufei, we were all there. All these years.
“You weren’t.”
Heero saw hatred in her eyes. Cool blue eyes that struck like steel. They seemed to suck the warmth out of the air around them, casting a chill down his back.
Hatred and jealousy.
The tabloid cover came to mind. Bitter rivals or bosom friends? Two beautiful, rich, and intelligent women appearing at parties together, arm in arm.
“Did you… and Relena...?”
Dorothy's laugh was derisive.
“If we had, do you think she would want you ?”
Heero watched as Dorothy scowled, sighed then stood. Her butler, who had been standing obediently by the doors, scampered forward to retrieve her sword. She was done with the spar.
“I stayed away because I believed she was better without me.” He found himself saying, making Dorothy pause. “But I left because Relena’s mother asked me to.”
She turned her head, just enough to show she was listening. Heero rifled through the memories, trying to decide which ones would be relevant.
“She was a nurse in the Sanc Kingdom, Marlene. She said she’d seen this before, hundreds of times. Right after the Mariemaia coup, Relena… was having nightmares.”
Heero remembered how Relena would wake in the middle of the night and visit him as he was recovering. It was hard to believe it nearly ten years ago now.
“Mrs. Darlian.” He looked up at Dorothy’s voice, cracking like a whip through his reverie. “Show some respect.”
He stood, taking off his own helmet. “Mrs. Darlian told me that I couldn’t support Relena. I thought she meant I wasn’t strong enough to do it. I now know she meant that I couldn’t do it alone.”
Heero bowed. Back straight, at the hip, low enough to show the deference he wanted her to see. He heard Dorothy’s feet shuffle against the floor. When he looked back up she was staring at him in surprise.
“We were both suffering children. We both needed help. More than we could give each other.” He straightened and faced her again. “I needed to leave to let us find the people we needed.
“You were one of the people Relena needed.”
Dorothy collected herself, turning away from Heero and continuing on her path out the gymnasium.
“Collect your things. I’ll call you a ride.”
Heero nodded and started towards the exit, sure he could find his way back to the room he had first been led to. The estate was large but smartly laid out, with the wings feeding into a main hall.
It was only as Heero was finished in the room did he stop to wonder what Dorothy had meant by “ride”.
Relena was waiting for him at the airport of New Port City, almost three hours after a golden helicopter had lifted off from the Catalonia estate. Heero had thought he would be brought to a local airport to take a more… conventional means of transport, but Dorothy’s helicopter had flown in straight to Sanc, offering brilliant views of the scenery as they passed.
She was on the tarmac, waiting by her car a safe distance from the landing pad. Anticipating his questions, Relena greeted him first.
“My flight home arrived an hour ago. Dorothy told me she was lending you her ride.” She indicated the golden, luxury vehicle behind him. “Seems like you made a good impression.”
“It seems more like she was showing off.”
“She does that to everyone,” Relena laughed , not a reaction many people could get out of her, “but not always with so much inconvenience to herself.”
Heero wondered if Relena knew how deeply Dorothy felt about her. It didn’t matter, she could handle herself. He preferred not to be caught between the two monsters that he knew both women could be.
“I nearly forgot,” Relena turned to Heero as her car pulled up to her home, “Pagan told me your suit arrived while I was gone. Would you be able to try it on tonight? Are you tired?”
Given the delays they experienced with the tailor, Heero understood Relena’s eagerness to have him fitted into the formal attire they were preparing. “Just in case.” Relena had said, since their relationship could not be private forever. Dorothy had made that abundantly clear.
“I’m not tired.”
It was quite early and Relena still had work to do even after her travels. Heero had the chance to shower before he met with Pagan in the dressing room adjacent to Relena’s bedroom. The base outfit he could put on himself, but the accessories and jacket were for the butler to dress him in.
Heero had a sense of deja vu as the jacket slid over his shoulders, with the snug fit of a piece of apparel made perfectly to his measurements. But it was the gloves… fitting so well that made him sure.
“Pagan, does Relena share a tailor with Dorothy, by chance?”
The old man chuckled as he adjusted the tie.
“No. Even if they did, sharing another customer’s information is highly unprofessional.” He stepped back, looking for any detail out of place.
“I, however, find the young miss’s pranks highly enjoyable.”