Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ My father, the soldier ❯ One-Shot

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing. This fan fiction has no commercial value, and I am not making any kind of profit or income off of this story or the use of characters owned by Sunrise and Bandai.

 

 

My father, the soldier

 

It had been an emotional day. Treize Khushrenada was not particularly close to his uncle, but they were fond of each other despite their fights, and it was always hard to lose a commanding officer, even in combat. He had had to deal with relatives throughout the funeral, and they had just made it back to the house. It belonged to one of the family members who were staying with Duke Dermail for a few days. When they had finally been able to return to the house, His Excellency had gone straight to his room, most likely for some private mourning. Lady Une followed after a few minutes, and Zechs Marquise had recently left to check on the two. Lucrezia Noin thought that that was more than enough to comfort Treize right now, so she stayed in the living room and inspected the books that were out of the library.

 

She picked out one of her favorites and flipped through the pages, still standing next to a chair. She tried to read it, but her mind kept returning to the future. They were leaderless for the moment. Romefeller would be telling the Alliance who to put in charge any minute now. The obvious and best choice was the General's nephew, of course, but there were some in both Romefeller and the Alliance who would keep the position away from Treize just out of pure spite.

 

A knock on the door brought her out of her thoughts. It was not a loud, demanding knock of a messenger but a soft, meek knock. Thus, when she went to the door (no one else was in the house but the four), she wondered who could be disturbing them at this time, for the entire town knew of the tragedy. She discovered a hastily bundled, shivering young girl after she opened the door.

 

“Dorothy!” she exclaimed. “Come in! You must be freezing.” She pulled the child inside the house shutting the door. Dorothy Catalonia was General Catalonia's daughter, and many were worried about her because she had not cried at all during her father's funeral. “Would you like me to get your cousin?”

 

Dorothy shook her head numbly; she wore no expression on her face. She pulled off her jacket and tangled scarf. She had a little trouble pulling off the mittens and threw them on the floor while she muttered incoherently.

 

“What's wrong?” Noin inquired. “You should be with your grandfather.”

 

“I'm not going back to him,” she stated with an edge to her voice. “I hate him.”

 

Noin waited for her to elaborate, but the girl just entered the living room and sat on the couch. “I take it you two had a fight.” Dorothy shook her head. “Does he know you're here?” Dorothy shrugged. “You just left? You walked all the way over here in the cold?” Dorothy nodded. “I take it you were in a hurry given the state of your warm clothes.” Dorothy looked away. “Is there anyone you want me to get?” Dorothy shook her head. Noin sighed; she did not know the child too well. The men would be better at this, even Une knew the girl better than she, but it was clear Dorothy wanted none of them.

 

“He was supposed to be back,” the child explained staring at a wall. “He was supposed to be home by now.”

 

“Your father?” inquired Noin.

 

“It was his last mission, and then it would be safe for Christmas. He would be home to share it with me this year; it would be the best Christmas ever,” she continued to the wall, not acknowledging the older woman's presence at all. “But he was wrong.” A sob sounded in her voice, and her eyes started to water. “He ruined Christmas! He ruined Christmas and the other Christmases for the rest of my life!” She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand; her nose was starting to turn red.

 

“Your father loved you very much, Dorothy,” Noin tried to console. “I'm sure he—”

 

“—and Grandfather acts like it's such a noble sacrifice!” Dorothy spat in disgust. She turned her head and stood, staring at one of the many abstract paintings in the room. “He…he says I should be proud. Proud of what? That my father, the gifted soldier, got himself killed on the battlefield? That he left me all alone to my grandfather?” She quickly spun on her heel and stared at Noin with such grief and anger that the woman was taken aback. “My grandfather acts like it was the best thing he could do! He said that all soldiers should die on the battlefield instead of growing old and useless!” She grabbed the largest object near her, a vase from Italy. “My father had me!” She chunked the vase to the floor, breaking it instantly. “He wasn't supposed to die!” She took a couple steps and grabbed a glass trinket before Noin could stop her. “I would have always used him!” She threw the bauble at the wall.

 

Lucrezia hurried over and puts her hands on the girl's arms before she could do anymore damage. “Stop destroying the house! Now, I'm sure your grandfather was only trying to comfort you.” She had not been expecting the lass to react like that. When Treize mourned, he drank wine and reminisced about old times, the good and the bad, and he might, might, shed a tear in front of others. She had not expected a temper tantrum from one of his relatives.

 

The child struggled and threw the nearest things in anger once she was free. “I hate him! Why did he send my father to that battle? Who cares about the stupid colonies! Why did he send him away?”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Grandfather sent Father onto the battle. He said they needed an expert there.” Her eyes were watering once again. “He sent him to his death!”

 

“Your grandfather could not have foreseen what would have happened.”

 

“He did!” Dorothy insisted. “He's blamed Father for Mother's death! He's been trying to get him killed in battle for years!” She wiped a stack of books right off a table.

 

Noin was not sure how to react to that statement. She did not think Dorothy's grandfather actually did that, for he had to know that sending General Catalonia on suicide missions would harm their cause more than help, no matter what personal vendettas he might have, but she knew it was not impossible for him to have done that. Still, they had to place nice with the Foundation at this stage of the game, or so Treize had told them time and time again.

 

“Now I'm sure that whatever your grandfather may have believed, he wouldn't have sent him to his death knowingly,” she said truthfully. “He has other things to consider besides just the grief over your mother's death.”

 

“Liar!” the girl shrieked. “Traitor!” She grabbed a sword off the wall; it was ornamental and not very practical in battle, but it was the only weapon in the room. She took it and brought the sword near Noin's torso.

 

Whatever movement the child may have made, Noin blocked it after quickly drawing her own weapon. Luckily, she had worn her formal military uniform to the funeral, and she had not yet changed out of it. The uniform came with a sword; Dorothy's father himself gave it to her and gave its mate to Zechs upon their graduation from the Lake Victoria military academy.

 

“Don't be too hasty to jump into a fight, Dorothy,” Noin warned.

 

The girl pulled back the sword and made another attack on her, which the woman promptly blocked. Noin did not have a vast amount of instruction, but she was bound to pick up a few moves simply from being around Zechs and Treize so often.

 

“It's not fair! He was supposed to be home! He promised!” she cried again. She held the sword steadily against Noin's, but she did not attack again. “He said he was fighting to keep me from the sadness of war; he said he was going to make it to where I would be safe and happy ! Well, he just got himself killed, and now I'm sad! It's all his fault! Why did he die? I hate him!”

 

Noin effortlessly turned Dorothy's blade away, and she jerked the girl on the shoulder. Dorothy looked up and saw a stern expression where before there had been a soft, understanding one.

 

“Don't you ever say you hate your father,” she hissed. “I know you're upset, but that is no cause for this behavior. You are quite too old for this.” Dorothy looked down in shame and dropped her weapon; she allowed Noin to take her back to the couch and sat down.

 

“What do you know?” Dorothy whispered, averting her eyes.

 

“I lost my father in battle, too,” Noin confided. Dorothy looked up into her eyes. “How old are you?”

 

“Thirteen,” she answered.

 

“I was a little younger than you at the time,” she informed. “My father wasn't around too much. He had to fight to keep the people safe, of course. When he was young, he didn't have too much money, but he had enough to get by. Then he met my mother, and they had me. He wanted more than enough to just get by. The military was the only place hiring with enough pay at the time, so he joined. He rose fairly well in the ranks.”

 

“What was his rank?”

 

“He was a Master Sergeant before he died. He was in a space battle. He always said those were some of the best. When the fighting had stopped, he would always have a few moments where he could pause and float silently, reflecting on the Universe's beauty.

 

“He was in Africa for his last battle. It was a routine mission, nothing out of the ordinary: `disarm the rebels and reinforce the Alliance government in the region.' However, the longer a man stays a soldier, the more likely he is to die on the battlefield. My father died like yours: a brave soldier in battle.”

 

Dorothy looked at her in awe for how she was able to speak of the tragedy.

 

Noin smiled warmly. “It gets better with time. Eventually you can talk about him without crying.”

 

“Does it ever go away?”

 

She shook her head. “Not completely, but it becomes part of you.”

 

“What happened to your family when your father died?”

 

“My mother's family offered to take us in; they were well off, but my parents refused to rely on them when they could make do on their own. My mother went to them when the money ran out, but I went into the military. I wanted to learn what interested my father in it so much. I thought I could get closer to him at the time by joining. Also, I wanted to make my family, especially my late father, proud. He was never able to take the courses—he thought he was too old—and so he was always an NCO, Non-Commissioned Officer.

 

“I went to the most prestigious military academy I could find: the one at Lake Victoria. I got my affairs in order and enrolled. I succeeded very well in the academy, bested only by Zechs. Because of our close scores, I soon befriended Zechs, and he was always with your cousin, Treize; this was before Une came over from Germany. I learned that commanding officers are more politicians than military men; they care more for the monetary resources than human lives. My father, the soldier, was a mere pawn. He was fighting for a corrupt government. I wanted to drop out of the academy; I was sick of war and the politics, but Treize convinced me to stay. He said was needed to be there to make others see the right way, that I won't be able to change anything if I just go home and ignore the problem.” Noin cut herself off before she revealed any of their future plans.

 

“Was my father one of the corrupt?” Dorothy asked eventually.

 

“Of course not,” she assured. She smiled at Dorothy, glad that her confession brought comfort to the girl.

 

“Every man in my family is involved in the military. I don't want anymore of them to die. What can I do?”

 

“We all have our ways. Go back to your grandfather; he'll help you find your way.” Duke Dermail was probably not the best guardian for Dorothy, and he would probably only use Dorothy's grief for her father to fuel her in whatever his means were, but he was all she had at the moment. She had basically lived him when her father alive anyway; he could not do too much more damage.

 

“I don't want to go back.”

 

Noin sighed and prepared herself; however, Dorothy stood. “I don't want to go back, but I know I have to. I've been acting like a brat.” She picked up her jacket, scarf, and mittens, and she put them back on carefully. She turned to Noin and bit her lip. “I, uh…well….”

 

Noin nodded. “It was nothing. Just be thankful for what you have.” Dorothy nodded, and they walked to the door. Dorothy went to leave, but a messenger was at the door.

 

“Hello! What timing!” the messenger exclaimed. “I have great news, straight from Duke Dermail!” He noticed Dorothy and frowned. “Miss Dorothy? I didn't know you were gone; I believe there will be a big to-do once they see you're gone.” The teenager shrugged this off. The soldier ignored her as quickly as he had become aware of her, and a grin swiftly returned to his face. “Col. Treize is to replace Gen. Catalonia as the head of Oz! I must deliver this news to His Excellency at once!” Noin instructed him where Treize was likely to be found; she turned to see Dorothy once more, but the girl was already running across the snow.

 

Lucrezia shook her head and returned to the living room. The others soon joined her. It was a time to celebrate, and she quickly put her conversation with Dorothy to the back of her mind. She would have time later to wonder about the girl.