Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Der Wasserman ❯ One-Shot

Der Wasserman

Disclaimer: GW still doesn't belong to me, and yes I am still sending them money for thier products. I have recently considered actually shelling out cash for the original series so they should be very happy.

Author's Note: Der Wasserman was originally a German song by Robert Schumann. Here I've included the lyrics in English. Oh and Cat's comment about the weather, that could be applied to where I live! It's still cold, and it's May right now!

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"Now children, what shall story shall I tell you today? Shall I tell you about the Dragon from the East that tried to take Wufei as it's mate? Or shall I tell you about the time that Duo Maxwell wove elf-locks in the manes and tails of all the horses owned by Lady Relena Kushrenada?"

"Grandma, tell us about the merman."

"The merman?"

"Yes, the one who attended the May dance and fell in love with your brother and took him away to dwell in the crystal halls of Sky Skellen."

"That was over 50 years ago. Strange how I still remember it . . .

In May, with the weather

Mild and fair,

The Tubingen girls have a dance in

The square

In the village of Tubingen, the week after Easter was the weekend of the spring festival. It was heralded by a great dance, which was considered by many to be the social event of the year. Many a respectable matron and master could nostagically claim to have first danced or kissed together in some long ago spring dance here.

"Honestly Trowa, you can't spend all your time dancing with me at these things." Catherine huffed impatiently at her brother. Catherine and Trowa were twins, both 19, and just the age to start taking these dances as a serious part of the marriage rite. Catherine, of medium height and hourglass figure, with flashing grey eyes and bouncy curled, bright red hair, was looking forward to another round of heartbreaking. Her brother Trowa was somewhat less popular. Although attractive enough, tall with stunning green eyes, his quiet and reserved personality had a tendency to make the village girls overlook him for more flashy specimans, such as Duo Maxwell. Both were dressed in thier best finery, Catherine in a soft lavender dress with a sheer overlay on the skirt and large star earrings, and Trowa in a forest green jacket and trousers.

"I don't just dance with you Kathy." he retorted mildly. "But I don't feel like throwing myself on the mercies of some hormone-driven teenage girls for the sake of a simple dance."

As gay and as happy

They could be,

They danced and danced

Round the linden tree

"Come on now Trowa. You should at least start looking." she mock-frowned at him. "That is the point of these things after all." Trowa didn't respond, not that she had expected him to. "Someone must interest you."

"Not really."

"Oh come now!" Catherine pursed her lips in thought, trying to remember who he had danced with last year. She spotted a small girl dressed in a dark blue dress the color of her hair across the square. "Look, isn't that Hilde? She said that you were cute, why don't you go up now? If you don't hurry, someone else is going to show up!"

He gave her a somewhat wry look. "I'm hoping someone else does."

"What?"

He sighed. "Don't be a goose Kathy. She's not really interested in me."

"True, true. You think Maxwell's going to propose anytime soon?"

` "Wait till the end of the festival."

She sqealed. "You're kidding! He is? How cute! Hilde's going to flip! Oooo, I can't wait to see her face! She's going to be so happy!" Trowa smiled, glad he'd gotten his sister off his love life. But his relief was too soon. "What about Dorothy, you were dancing with her last year?"

He winced. "No thank you. Her eyebrows . . . and she's a tad too intellectual and independant for me."

Katherine eyed him out of the corner of her eye. "A tad too intellectual? Are you being a bit misogynistic, about her going to college?" He winced again. "Of course not, but she is rather out of my league. And we really don't get along."

"Why not?"

Might as well let the cat out of the bag now. "One, she's a girl . . ."

"Oh! You should have just said something!" She reached out and embraced him. "After Sally and Une you should know that we won't reject you."

Trowa hugged her back. "It's not that, it's just that there is no one else like that here. There was no reason to tell you because it wouldn't have made a difference." He drew back. "There's time yet, we're not even twenty." Next he changed the subject. "Besides, it's not as if you have anyone."

"I beg to differ, my dear brother." She smirked at him.

"O Gods, now who would be idiotic enough to marry you? You'd poison them in the first week with your cooking." he groaned. She hit him lightly. "For your information, O ever loving and supportive brother, someone does indeed appreciate my charms, cooking included."

"Who do I have to kill then? God, not Wufei."

"Ha, you wouldn't be able to beat him up if he had both hands tied behind his back." she grinned at him mischieviously. "It's Hiiro, the blacksmith."

"You're right about me not being able to beat him up. Hiiro is very strong for such a decptively small frame. But are you sure he's interested, he does have the Baron Peacecraft's sister Relena after him."

"Trust me, I'm sure. And Relena's attatched to herself to Wufei." He gave her an unreadable look, unreadable to most but she could discern the disbelief from his eyes. "Really!" She tossed her curly hair back, setting her star-shaped earings a-swinging. "Now, come and dance the opening dance with me. After that, I'll go after Hiiro and you can start looking for a future bride." He sent her another look, a 'did that come out right?' look. "Oh, you know what I mean!" With that she grabbed his arm and dragged him out to the middle of the square, near the linden tree.

A strange young man,

Very proud and tall,

Came up to

The prettiest girl of all

Trowa obediantly led his sister in the opening dance of the festival. Long familiar with the steps, he devoted just enough of his attention to keep from bumping other couples and to nod in the right places of Catherine endless stream of conversation, focusing instead on observing the people around them. There sitting on the rim of the fountain was Baron Milliardo Peacecraft with his new wife Lucrezia, Hilde Schebeiker's older sister. Lucrezia and Hilde had inherited the village bakery from thier mother, the widow Noin Schebeiker. Now that Hilde was alone, although Lucrezia did help on the weekends, she needed someone to help her. Maxwell was perfect, although charismatic and flirty, he was dependable and strong as a rock.

Another turn and he spotted Sally Po dressed in pale green, with ribbons of the same color tied about her waist and wrists, and braided into the two curls that fell on her shoulders. Although elsewhere she might have been dismissed as simply an old maid, here she had managed to win respect as the only doctor in the entire district. And she was hardly alone, she had her partner Une. Beside her stood Dorothy Catalonia, in a stiff maroon jacket over a pale pink skirt. A modern woman, she was the only child of the neighboring district's Baron. He was somewhat wealthier than their own Baron, and she had traveled extensively, and been to a woman's college in England. She gave him a wink as he completed the turn.

Then he spotted something, or rather someone who nearly stopped his heart. It was just after the spectacle of Relena Peacecraft trying to drag Wufei, an itinerant scholar who had finally settled in Tubingen, onto the dance square. Small and delicate, with sun-gold hair and aquamarine eyes like the sea, he looked to be about 16. The rough clothes identified him as a peasant, but he was far too striking to be an inhabitant of the village. The stranger was whistfully watching the dancers.

He offered his hand

To her in the dance,

With a sea green wreath

And a tender glance.

The opening came to an end, and he quickly seperated from Catherine. He made his way over to the stranger, picking up a small lily from the piles of flowers that were scattered over the tables around the square. Coming up, he offered it to the stranger. "Oh" blonde child exclaimed. "I'm not a girl!"

Trowa chuckled, trying to hide his reaction to the voice, a musical tenor that melted it's way into his brain. "I'm just trying to be friendly." He reached out and closed the stranger's hand around the flower, noting the smooth skin. "I haven't seen you here before. I'm Trowa, my sister and I are tailors or seamstresses in the village. And you are?" What am I doing? I'm never this forward!

"My name is Quatre. From . . . around." said the stranger and blushed lightly.

"Ah, an intinerant scholar perhaps, like Wufei."

"Something like that. I'm a musician."

"Really? How wonderful. What instruments do you play? I play the flute myself."

"Several instuments. The flute happens to be one of them. I also play the violin, the pianoforte, the harpsichord, the lute, the guitar and several others."

"That is a lot. How did you learn that many?"

"It's just something I picked up." Quatre changed the subject. "You said you have a sister?"

Trowa snorted. "Yes, over there in the lavender dress."

Quatre laughed softly. "She must run your life like a tyrant."

Trowa smiled back at him. "Yes, she is something of a mother hen. Do you have any family?"

"Yes, I have twe . . . well, a lot of sisters." The happy expression dropped off Quatre's face, warning Trowa not to pursue the matter further.

"Well Quatre, you looked rather mournfull standing here by yourself."

"Oh, don't worry about me, watching everybody dance is fine. You should be out there enjoying yourself, not wasting time on a stranger."

"Don't worry about it, I enjoy you're company. Would you care to dance?"

Quatre looked up at him with wide eyes, which made him look even more innocent. "I don't think people would take kindly to two men dancing together."

"Don't worry about it. Besides these dances don't mean anything, see?" He pointed over to where Duo had latched onto Wufei and was dragging him out, then moved the stranger's attention to Lucrezia who was agreeably partnering with Hilde while Duo commited his daily escape from death escapade.

"Even if it is serious, in your case, look over there." He directed Quatre's gaze to Sally and Une. Une had just stepped out of their shared home, dressed in a purple velvet gown. Une was a former nun, had once run the town church donated by a Trieze Kushrenada, a close friend of Milliardo. "I wonder what took her so long to show up?" he muttered to himself.

Quatre cast about for another solution. "I'm afraid I don't know how to dance."

But Trowa wasn't planning on let this seductive stranger get away so easily. Even if he's not interested, at least I'll get a dance with him. "Neither does Hiiro. That's not preventing my sister from dragging him out." Indeed, Catherine had gotten a vice-like grip on Hiiro's arm and propelling him to the floor. "If you're so disturbed by dancing with a man, I could get one of my friends-"

"No, no, I didn't mean to offend you!" Quatre cut him off. "But truly, I do not know how to dance, and I have no wish to make a fool of myself in front of so many people!"

"No problem." Trowa quickly guided Quatre toward the edge of the wood, towards the sea. "There is a small clearing here. It's close enough to hear the music and call for help if we need it, but the screen of brush offers a measure of privacy." He turned and offered his companion a smile. "Don't worry Quatre. I'm the last person to want to harm you."

"O tell me! Why your

Arm is icy cold?"

"Beneath the sea

'Tis not warm, I'm told"

Despite Quatre's assertion that he was a complete klutz, he quickly picked up the steps and his natural grace ensured that even during the short learning period he didn't step on Trowa's feet. While they danced, Trowa and Quatre exchanged stories, Trowa on village life, Quatre on the different sights he had seen on his many journeys. He told stories of greedy villagers whose towns were repaid with horrid drought, of a child he had saved from a raging river, of high ladies that threw themselves into the great Danube, pining for thier lovers. He talked of the rocky shores of England, haunted with the ghosts of a thousand dead sailors, and spoke of the golden sands of far Arabia, where a Sheik could have a couple dozen children and an army made of giants, like the army of the Hapsburgs in Prussia. His tales enamoured Trowa, drawing upon his sense of adventure with a call as strong as any siren's. After Quatre had become proficient in most of the dances that Trowa knew, Trowa finally noticed something odd about his companion. "Hey are you alright? Your hand is very cold."

Quatre suddenly tensed and drew away. "I'm fine. I just come from a very cold area originally." He turned a smile that probably was an attempt to look reassuring but just looked forced. "Where I come from, there is still snow on the ground at this time of year. Undoubtly part of the reason I went a-wandering."

"I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable, I was just worried about you." Trowa tried to calm the young man down.

"Thanks."

"O tell me! Why your hand

Is pale and white?"

"Beneath the sea

It is dark as night."

"But while we're on the subject, where are you originally from? You're obviously not from around here and you're so very pale. Are you an aristocrat?"

He led her far

From the linden tree

"O let me go!

My mother calls for me!"

He led her down beside the sea

"O let me go! O woe is me!"

Quatre pulled away at this. "I have to go." He ran from Trowa. Worried, Trowa followed him, an easy task due to Trowa's long legs and the ease which he saw the mop of golden hair. He followed him, not inland as he suspected, but out to the shore of the sea. When he started to wade in Trowa called out "Wait! What are you doing?"

Quatre quickly turned around. "Y-you followed me?"

Trowa grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the water. "Yes. Why are you walking out to sea?"

Quatre closed his eyes, then let out his breathe in a long exhale. "Listen, it's none of your concern. Just go away and forget about me. You're better off to have never have met me."

"Why?"

Now he reopened his eyes. In the sea-colored orbs Trowa saw a measure of despair and loneliness, and something . . . not quite human. "Because I'm a merman."

He held her close

And her prayers denied

"Fair maid, the merman

Makes you his bride."

A merman? "What do you mean?"

A soft smirk or perhaps merely a bitter smile made it's way over Quatre's face. "I'm a merman. One who dwells on the bottom of the ocean, in the crystal halls of Sky Skelly. Brother to the sirens and lamias who ply the mouths of rivers, drawing ships to a rocky death to make jewelry from the bones of sailors. Lord of Silkies and Naiads, who travels over the waterways like light playing on waves. All those stories I've told you, they're all events I have witnessed through the veil that seperates our worlds. Those instruments I've learned, I've picked up on hearing party ships of royalty."

"If all this is true" and Trowa's tone made it abundantly clear that he didn't believe a word of it. "Then why are you here?"

"Did you ever here of a woman named Quaterine Raberba?"

"Yes, she disappeared from this village about a hundred years ago. There's even a folksong about her."

"She's my mother. I wanted to see the town where she came from."

He danced with her

Into the foam and the brine

"O father and mother,

Mother mine!"

"That's impossible! You can't be more than 16, she'd be long dead before she had you!"

"As a matter of fact, I'm 50. The youngest child. And she's still alive, Father gave her the lifespan of a merman. But she has never been allowed to leave Sky Skelly, for fear that she might try to make her way back to this village." He paused, another whistful smile on his face. "She's told me so many stories of this village, that I finally had to see it for myself. This is the first time I've been allowed to walk on land, and I came straight here."

It makes sense. He looks so young, yet knows too much for his appearent age. And certainly it is dark and cold beneath the sea, which would account for the coolness and pallor of his flesh. "Why are you going back then?"

Aquamarine eyes widened. "I certainly can't stay here! I don't even know how to be human! What would I do here?"

"Stay with me" Trowa stepped closer then raised one cool hand to his lips. "This may seem incredible, but I want you to stay with me."

"Why?"

"Because . . . because you feel like the other half of my soul. Seeing you for the first time, it was like being hit with a lighting bolt. I've talked more with you in an evening than I do in a week with my sister. Nothing in this world has made me as happy as you have."

Quatre looked as if he wanted to cry. "Oh Trowa, I know what you mean, but it cannot be. Even if I wished for it, the sea still calls my soul. I cannot tie myself to stay in a single land while there is still the world's oceans to explore. And you forget, you will die long before I even grow old."

"Then take me with you. Your father took your mother to his crystal palace and gave her long life to live with him."

"No, no Trowa." He shook his head. "I can't ask you to do that. How can I take you from the world forever. You would never see your friends or your sister again."

"You said that your mother was confined in fear that she would try to return to Tubingen?"

"Yes, Father always fears that she will someday escape from him."

"Well if I travel with you, we could occasionally return to the village, couldn't we? You're not dragging me kicking and screaming to the shore. My sister and friends will understand that you make me happy." He reached up and brushed the back of his hand along Quatre's cheek. "Let me love you Quatre."

Quatre said nothing in return, simply reached up and hugged Trowa fiercely.

He led her away to his crystal hall

"Goodbye, my sisters, goodbye all!

Goodbye! Goodbye!"

"And the merman took your brother away with him, right Grandma? Did you ever see him again?"

"Well, I don't know if it was a merman. And yes Odin, I did see Trowa, several times. He used to come to visit every year during Mayfaire."

"Yeah Odin, remember what Old Man Chang said, that Trowa ran off with a wandering musician after a Mayfaire. Granny Kathy's just filling your head with nonense, there's no such thing as merfolk."

"Hush up Solo. You're just jealous that you don't have any fairy relations to boast of."

"Ha, I wouldn't be so sure of that. Duo Maxwell was such a lucky and charming man, I always thought he must of had at least some Fey blood in him. Your mother Helen certainly inherited quite a bit of that, Solo. And you're the spitting image of your grandfather at that age. A shame you never met either of them."

"But Grandma, the merman?"

"Well, I won't say anything either way. But I'll give you this. At the next Mayfaire go down to the strip of woods, right where the sand meets the sea. I promise, if you listen carefully, you can still here my brother's flute, playing a duet with a violin that echoes with the sound of the sea in it's very voice."