New
Year’s Kiss
By
Midii Une
Lady
Une gave the smaller girl a gentle shove, smiling benevolently down on her
reluctant Cinderella. New Year’s Eve, a
time to make amends, to right past wrongs and strive toward the gracefulness he
so desired to see in her. Her growing
maternal interest in Mariemaia promised to be its own reward, the little girl
would need lavish love and attention as she worked toward the full recovery the
doctors promised in time. And then
there was the launching of her young, impoverished cousin into her rightful
place as an Une topped her agenda as After Colony 197 approached.
Outside
the window a small white star twinkled gently and a slow smile curved her lips
as her long, delicate fingers played wistfully with the ends of her satiny-brown
hair. Her little cousin Midii stood hesitantly, looking over her shoulder at
her newfound fairy godmother for reassurance only to find her far away in a
dream of her own.
How
well Midii knew that dreamy look, that distant gaze and part of her resented
Lady Une for prodding her back into the world of reality. It was too late to do any good now, she had
seen and done too much to make her personality revert back to its former
innocence so it would match the angelic appearance of the reflection of herself
she saw every time she passed a mirror-like surface.
Sensing
her older cousin would be no further help tonight, entranced as she was by the
distant star, Midii felt free to disappear into the anonymity of the crowd and
douse her memories and lost dreams in the sparkling champagne that flowed
freely and was passed in sparkling crystal glasses by an army of black-clad
waiters . . .
.
. . If she let her vision blur the battalion of servers could almost become an
army of black space Tauruses. The
slender blonde jerked her head away and reached for a glass of champagne,
lifting her head in surprise as another hand reached for the same glass and
they found themselves at an impasse.
Dorothy Catalonia scowled down at the shorter girl, accustomed to
deference from lesser beings and was surprised by an equally determined lift of
the chin and defiance shimmering in the luminous gray-blue eyes that met her
lavender ones without fear.
Instantly
Dorothy took the measure of her opponent and shrugged, loosening her fingers
from the slender glass stem and signaling a waiter to bring her a glass from a
fresh bottle.
“They
say champagne that sits loses it’s flavor every second,” she said smugly,
taking a dainty sip of the freshly poured, ice-cold liquid.
The
other girl smiled wryly. “I never heard
that,” she said softly. “And I was
raised in the shadow of the famous vineyards in Champagne.”
“Peasants
may know how to grow grapes,” Dorothy bit back. “But they don’t know the first thing about drinking wine.”
A
shadow dimmed Midii’s eyes. Was even
small talk with some obnoxious aristocrat to be forever colored by memories of
the past? Her father had been no
peasant, but rather the disgraced alcoholic son of the noble Une family and he
had certainly known too well how to drink wine. She let the glass slip from her fingers, barely hearing the
satisfying smash of crystal on marble, barely hearing the taller girl’s
exclamation of annoyance as the golden liquid spattered her expensive dress.
Dorothy
watched the girl in innocent and pure white satin disappear without a word of
apology. Anger boiled up inside her and
curiosity too. The girl’s eyes didn’t
match the image the face and the dress projected. She felt so restless, the adrenaline rush of the happenings on Christmas
Eve, the short-lived battle with Dekim Barton’s forces and her own part played
in it fading fast and leaving her alone again with her regrets.
A
murmur ran through the crowd and Dorothy gulped her champagne quickly. Her eyes were drawn instantly to Miss
Relena, whose face glowed as she hurried to the doorway to greet her
knights. All five so handsome and noble
in the traditional dress of Cinq. She
was no coward, no one could call Dorothy Catalonia a coward, but every good
commander knew when it was time to retreat.
She denied herself even a glimpse of the boy whose halo of platinum
waves shimmered beneath the sparkling lights and withdrew into a small, hidden
chamber behind a satin curtain.
Her
full lower lip jutted in an annoyed pout. She was there already, curled
cozily in a huge rose velvet armchair, heedless of the wrinkles her posture was
creating in the sumptuous fabric of her dress.
Dorothy wondered if the girl was consciously posing, she looked as
pretty as a picture there, the deep rose sash of her dress perfectly matching
the chair and loose ringlets of pale blonde hair framing her face.
Midii
ruined the portrait she painted of serenity and girlish beauty by lifting a
champagne bottle to her lips and taking a deep gulp of the bubbly liquid, she
awkwardly wiped her lips with the back of her hand. Her eyes narrowed as she heard the definite sound of derisive
laughter from the doorway. Still she
was relieved it wasn’t cousin Anne to find her like this she would be so
disappointed.
“You
owe me an apology,” Dorothy challenged, anxious for a distraction from the
young man who had dominated her thoughts for more than a year. His charitable words and honorable actions
fresh in her memory although it had been a year, no a year and six days since
she had seen his face.
“Hmm,
I’m as bad as that pathetic Lucrezia Noin, so smitten with Zechs she counted
the minutes they were apart,” Dorothy thought, but she looked to the skies
beyond the tall glass windows that framed the silent Midii’s chair. Lucrezia was happy at last though, shuttling
off to Mars with her one true love and Dorothy fancied she could see their
shuttle far away in space, shimmering like a fast-moving star. Lucy had always vowed Milliardo wasn’t dead,
her heart had been right. If only she,
Dorothy, could be so sure of her own feelings.
“What
are you hiding from,” Midii asked, her eyes watching Dorothy knowingly as her
question pulled the other girl from her romantic thoughts.
“I
could ask you the same,” Dorothy asked and feeling suddenly devoid of energy
and the odd feeling of hope the thoughts of Noin and Zechs’ happy ending had
given her, sank into the chair opposite the other girl.
Midii’s
face took on the visage of a dark little storm cloud and anger bubbled. Anger that no one could ever understand what
she had faced in the war. No one here
could know what poverty had driven her to.
What could this rich and pampered girl know of her pain?
Dorothy
held out her glass and Midii arched a brow, but refilled it from the bottle she
held.
The
champagne she drank dissolved Dorothy’s natural reticence and she spoke at
last.
“I
must confess I’m hiding from him,” she sighed, her voice soft as his face came
unbidden to her mind, turquoise eyes gleaming at her with interest and sincere
sympathy that she would have been unable to abide from no other human but when
it came from him was suddenly welcome and oddly comforting.
“Ah,”
said Midii softly, wondering if she ever saw Nanashi again if she would hide as
well. No matter, he was gone forever
and here she sat with some spoiled rich girl who played hide and seek no doubt
in some paltry lovers’ game. She took
another long sip of the champagne, again wiping the excess moisture from her
lip with her fingers but this time somewhat more delicately in deference to the
fact she was no longer alone.
“I
suppose I’m hiding because I don’t belong here. My cousin thinks I do but I don’t, not just because my father was
the family disgrace but because of what I’ve done as well. I’m not sorry I did it, my family made it
through and my brothers deserve this chance that Lady Une has given us,” Midii
said.
Dorothy
giggled wondering what the sweet little thing across from her could possibly
have done that rivaled her sins. She
took another drink, letting the champagne warm her insides before raising her
eyes to the other girl’s shining ones.
“Let
me tell you a story Miss Midii,” Dorothy said, remembering the rumors now about
Lady Une’s poor little cousin and leaning forward slightly. “Once upon a time there was a little girl
who grew up in a beautiful and perfect world, she had everything money could
buy and a papa who doted on her. She
loved her papa so very, very much and her pride in the fact that he was an
important soldier was not the least of the reasons why she loved him. She loved war and she loved her father but
when war killed her father what was she to do?
She couldn’t hate war because without her father there would be nothing
left to love, except for battle. Those
people out there don’t understand, no one understands, except for one.”
“Then
why are you hiding from him,” Midii asked simply, feeling a bit ashamed that
she had fallen prey to the selfish feeling that only she had suffered in the
war. She knew so well that that wasn’t
true. Nanashi had taught her that.
“I
don’t want to,” Dorothy confessed, her voice almost too soft to be heard by her
companion. “How can you understand, I
almost killed him, it was only accident that I didn’t and still he forgave me,
he understood. I knew in that moment
that he and I were the same. How can
you understand, how can anyone?”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Quatre
sighed as he saw Trowa disappear behind
a draped satin curtain into one of the little alcoves that lined the
ballroom. He shook his head a little in
sadness and a bit in familiar amusement. This kind of gathering was close to
torture for his stoic friend. He was
rather disappointed too, Miss Relena had said Dorothy would be here and he so
longed to speak with her. But she was nowhere
in sight. He found himself pushing
aside the curtain and following Trowa into the little room. Quatre spotted his friend leaning against
the window, arms folded and eyes on the ground.
“Trowa,”
Quatre asked suddenly, surprising even himself with the question, “what did you
mean on Libra that night, when you said how sad it was for a woman to be unable
to cry.”
Trowa
was silent and Quatre prodded him. “Were you thinking of Cathy?”
Almost
too quickly Trowa nodded, but he turned away from Quatre to look up at the
stars. The stars sparkled like tears
and he was assaulted by a memory from long ago.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“He
left me behind and I wanted to be with him forever,” Midii finished, tears
streaking her face as Dorothy stared at her, compelled with fascination by a
story so like her own. Shocked by the
pain of a little girl forced to choose between her family and the young boy who
had saved her life. As always the war
held its unimaginable horrors and surprises
“You
did what you had to do,” she said. “You
believe that don’t you?”
Midii
found a napkin and dabbed at the tears that wet her cheeks, she nodded.
“Yes,
I wouldn’t change what I did, I had no choice.
But he couldn’t see that! He didn’t understand,” she said.
“I’m
sorry,” Dorothy said. “Perhaps if you
saw him again things would be different.”
“So,
is he here tonight,” Midii asked simply, “the one you’ve spoken of?”
Dorothy
nodded dumbly, the thought of him out there somewhere merely beyond the wall
making her heartbeat almost audible.
Midii
stood, wobbling slightly with emotion and too much champagne and went to the
window. The palace clock tower showed
the time was almost midnight.
“If
he were here, my Nanashi, I’d go out there and find him tonight,” she said wistfully.
“I
can’t,” Dorothy said, her voice uncharacteristically timid and small.
Midii
turned on her like a small whirlwind and grasped both her hands.
“Please!
For both our sakes, show me that at least someone’s dream can come true, it
would be like a reason to keep believing.
How can you hide in here when the one person in this world that
understands you is just beyond that door,” she scolded. “My God Dorothy you commanded armies you can
do this!”
Dorothy
laughed, the tone both wistful and self-deprecating. “You win, I’m going,” she conceded, a high flush heating her
cheeks and making her eyes sparkle prettily with hope and youth.
Midii
gave her a lopsided smile and a little push of encouragement but Dorothy turned
and pulled the other girl to her in a tight embrace.
“Thank
you,” Dorothy said and disappeared behind the satin curtain.
Midii sighed and turned back to the window.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Quatre
sighed and turned away from Trowa’s continued silence. Perhaps Dorothy had finally arrived, she
seemed like the type to make a fashionably late entrance and he could picture
mischief gleaming in those haughty lavender eyes of hers. Surely she wouldn’t be avoiding him when he
wanted so much to see her again. Her words on Libra had touched his empathetic
heart with feelings stronger than anyone ever had.
“Trowa--,”
he started but he could tell his friend was lost in a reverie of his own and no
amount of curiosity on his part would make the quiet soldier talk of things he
wanted to keep private.
Quietly
Quatre slipped from behind the curtain, his eyes landing on his target just as
the lights started to dim in preparation of the New Year’s countdown.
As
Quatre stepped out from behind the curtain Duo took notice of what he considered
a vacancy and the exuberant American tugged on Hilde’s hand pulling her into
the little room to celebrate New Year’s with her in private. Trowa scowled at the sudden, intrusive sound
of happy voices. He moved silently to
the little door hidden in the wall paneling bent on escape and he disappeared
unnoticed into the adjoining alcove while Duo and Hilde fell giggling onto the
velvet-upholstered couch just as the lights went out.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Midii
stood alone in the darkness watching her own reflection in the window as a
cacophony of voices chanted the New Year’s countdown.
10.
. . 9 . . . 8 . . . 7. . . 6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . . . 3
Midii
lifted her eyes to the window, her breath catching in her throat, a boy’s face
was reflected there above hers on the dark glass. Her heart pounded as if he were real and her fingers reached to
trace the image, the wild brush of hair of indiscriminate color because the
window only reflected the dark, vague outline of him. A prince he seemed to her in the old-fashioned clothing straight
from a fairy tale and she felt again like the Cinderella her cousin had
compared her to as she dressed.
.
. . 2
Dorothy
restrained a shocked gasp as a warm pair of hands grasped her bare shoulders in
the darkness and strands of soft, fine hair tickled her cheek. She could feel breath on her cheek and the
heat from the stranger’s hands traveled along her cool skin like hot water
streaming from a shower as she melted into the embrace that seemed somehow
familiar.
Holding
her close in his arms Quatre could feel her heartbeat pounding close to his
chest. The soft fragrance of roses
surrounded him, an old-fashioned variety that grew in only one garden in the
whole world. He’d heard her telling
Miss Relena that once, once upon a time in the Cinq Kingdom, in a room
above the very ballroom where he held her now.
He felt her heartache and her reluctance and made a New Year’s vow. Dorothy would not be an easy prize to win,
but oh so worth it. A small taste of
victory was so close, he sensed the nearness of her lips beneath his.
Dorothy
Catalonia, his mind whispered as he covered her mouth with his in a gentle
kiss.
Quatre
Raber ba Winner, her heart answered although her mind denied it, as she wrapped
her arms around his neck for a fleeting second.
.
. . 1
Midii
closed her eyes and touched her lips to the smooth cold glass, leaning her
forehead against the soothing coolness as well, her thoughts a haze of
champagne and the memories she had shared with Dorothy. The coldness of the glass burned against her
lips and made her tingle as if she really kissed those phantom lips.
Happy
New Year, voices screamed cheerfully.
Dorothy’s eyes fluttered and she found herself alone, her lips throbbing
from an anonymous New Year’s kiss.
“Happy New Year Nanashi,” Midii whispered, closing her eyes and laying her cheek against the icy glass, over the heart of the boy’s reflection in the window.
Trowa looked down silently on the small girl at the window as the lights came up, frozen in place by the name she spoke, that name that wasn’t a name at all.
Nanashi.
Loose ringlets nestled on the soft white skin of her neck and her dark lashes brushed the delicate skin beneath her eyes as a crystal tear crept from beneath one of her lids and sparkled on her cheek. Any second now she would open her eyes and see him there. Midii. Midii, the mistress of sweet, endearing gestures that made you believe she was an angel.
A golden cross dangled before his eyes but he tore his glance away from the shining bauble to glance at her shy, downcast face. He shook himself almost visibly. She would open her eyes and turn to him and tell him she hated him. Hated him for leaving her, hated him for being free. He had imagined he could hate her too, although he had never second guessed his decision not to kill her for her betrayal those years ago. He knew instead he would keep the memory of seeing her again, the picture of her kissing his reflection in the silent recesses of his hidden heart.
Slowly Midii opened her eyes and looked at the window seeing there only her own reflection mirrored on the image of garden and fountains and stars beyond. He had disappeared in the light.
She took a deep breath and patted her hair, attempted to straighten her rumpled gown and ducked out behind the curtain into the lights of the ballroom. Her eyes scanned the room for Lady Une, she wanted to go home, it was past midnight and after her imagined kiss the rest of the evening would pale in comparison. She could still feel the cool smoothness of the windowpane beneath her lips.
At last she spotted her cousin across the floor, talking to a tall, handsome boy who leaned against the ornate paneling. As she stood watching them they turned to look at her, Lady Une smiled and held out a hand to her while placing the other gently on the boy’s arm to make him stay.
This year, Midii thought, as she walked slowly across the floor toward her future, I’ll find a way to tell you Nanashi.
The End
(Happy New Year 2002—Go After Your Dreams!)