REVELATION Relena Peacecraft, ensconsed in a black limousine as she rode around Sank kingdom, was glued to the window in anxiety, heart fluttering at the possibility of the rumor that had come to her ears in her manor was true: Heero Yuy was in Sank Kingdom, *her* kingdom. Her eyes picked over every detail in the streets, nose wrinkling at some of the dingier areas of her kingdom. Lazy people who had no sense of work ethics littered the streets in cardboard boxes, all gazing wistfully at the young ambassador inside the rich car. Relena searched their faces for that familiar young man with piercing cobalt blue eyes. There! "Stop!" she cried out, almost hoarse in her desperation. Heero turned about lithely as she emerged from her car, confidence in her step. Relena smiled, her poise perfect, outfit perfect, everything perfect as she crossed the dirt-encrusted sidewalk to come closer to him. "Relena." So much coldness in that one word, a hard edge to his voice as his eyelids lowered almost to a glare. If she didn't know better, she would have thought he wasn't happy to see her. "I've found you, Heero," she answered, fingers smoothing out infintessimal folds in her blue dress, feeling very much like a princess meeting her knight in shining armor. She noticed his hands were clenched tightly to his sides, probably nervous that she had found him unprepared. Eyes from all corners of the ramshackle place were peering at her, dirty people staring at her and her limousine like hungry wolves, and though she *was* with Heero, a desire to return to her nice, *clean* manor shivered through her. "Shall we go?" His eyes flickered towards the limousine before anchoring back onto her, a gaze that sent fear trembling down her spine as well as thrumming her heart with excitement. He remained in place, unwaivering. Another tactic would have to work. "Weren't you going to kill me?" she challenged him with a knowing smile. Unless his gun was tiny enough to be undetected in those deliciously tight shorts he was wearing, there was no danger of him acting upon his empty threat. Besides, he had ample opportunity to kill her before, always hesitating before the final blow. There was no chance of her *ever* being harmed by her Heero. Surprisingly, Heero turned his back on her, *her*, Relena Peacecraft. "Go home," he muttered, the tiny sound echoing off the rotting tin cans and smut-covered buildings surrounding them. "You don't belong here." "Heero!" she called after him, jogging down the detestable alleyway, her shoes starting to become contaminated by the filthy detritus lying about. "I can assure you, no one will find out you're here! You'll be safe with me, not out here." Furious at his adamancy, she sent him her final blow. "You *love* me! Why don't you admit that?" He stopped. Smiling satisfactorily, Relena straightened, repreening herself to perfection, replacing the indifferent mask she had dropped out of desperation. She had done it, reeled in the Perfect Soldier with her love. Surprisingly, there was no warmth in his steel eyes when he turned to face her; the stare was so fierce she had to relinquish a step of her ground. "I don't love you." The blow was a slap to the face, tearing out her heart and ripping it to shreds. "Yes you do!" she insisted, refusing this to happen to her. "You *saved* me! You..." "I love Duo." /Duo? No, that can't be! That *can't* be!/ Feeling herself losing her calm composure, Relena straightened herself, resuming her armored facade in spite of the torrent of fear tumbling through her body. "What did you say?" She tried to make her voice imperious, instead it came out a hoarse whisper, fear and anxiety slipping out from within. He turned away from her, saying, "Go home, Relena. Or else I *will* kill you." The threat was real, she felt it even in the marrow of her bones. But she couldn't let him go, she couldn't let him slip through her fingers. Not while there was something she could do about it. If she could just catch him, hold him in her delicate hands and shatter his iron exterior to the innocent child she knew was trapped within it, he would stay. He would stay. Yet she couldn't chase him this time. Her feet wouldn't obey her commands, as though the many eyes of the spectators had pinned her to the ground. Relena was aware, always aware that she was being watched by her people, displaying unmonarchly behavior in the streets was something she could not afford to do, not if they were to trust her, to accept her as their ambassador. So she let him go, turning defeated towards her limousine, emotions drained from her being. As the alley dropped into the background she numbly stared out the window, trying to think of nothing, trying to forget the stab to her heart as they approached the manor. * * * Relena closed off the door to her room, sealing out the outside world, encasing herself in her room with its gentle veils of protection. She fled to the bed, burying herself in the mounds of silk and satin, wallowing in the comfort. And it haunted her. Seeping through the layers of finery, a dark stain oozing to even this perfect haven. A pair of cobalt blue eyes, hardened by war, death, and many other factors she could never know, softening as he spoke that name. That awful phrase. "I love Duo." It echoed incessantly through her brain like a broken record, tearing through her veiled reality, slicing apart her dreams, her hopes, her ambitions. It rent her heart, sawing through it with jagged barbs over and over and over again. She clutched at her head trying to free herself from that torturous sentence, and the vision of the hard blue eyes that thrust it at her. "NOOOOOOO!" she screamed, breaking through her mound of comfort, the sheets cascading around her frail body. She shook her head to clear it, screaming to deafen the phrase pounding through her skull. No! No! NO! NO! Furious, she threw a pillow, and another and another until she was at the eye of a red whirlwind of anger. Again, she tossed, throwing all her hatred and bitterness into every precious object that left her hand, tears streaming down her cheeks, blurring her vision. How could he do this? Spit on the love and comfort she offered him like some vile disease and turn his back on her? All in favor of some laughing maniac who called himself Death. She could see that cursed braided pilot standing nearby through the corner of her eye, a taunting figure who had somehow managed to slip through her defenses in her room. Vehnemently, she hurtled one of her precious baubles at him, hating him for everything he stood for. Too late she saw the figure metamorphose into her own. Crash. She watched numbly as the bauble connected with the mirror, shattering her image into a thousand glittering pieces on the floor. Like her dream. Tentatively she took a step towards the pile of shards, then another and another, stumbling over the blankets strewn on the floor. She dropped to her knees, clawing the carpet, gathering the precious winking jewels together. They bit her hands, tore her delicate flesh, drawing bloood. She felt no pain, only a comforting numbness embracing her as she frenetically tried to place the jagged pieces together, needing them to fit. They denied her, refused to mold back together no matter how much effort she placed into it. "Miss Peacecraft?" It was Astair. Somewhere within her fog, her brain registered the calm voice and she raised her china face to see him, cradling her precious dreams in her hands. "What are you doing?" Astair kneeled to her level, gentle fingers prying her hands open. Wordlessly, Relina stared at him, then back to the shattered fragments in her hands, reality dawning on her. She opened her mouth to speak, trying to form an excuse in her brain, but words failed her. Slowly, she let the shards fall in glittering rainbows of light to the carpet. "I... I'm sorry." Letting out a breath of relief, Astair inspected her delicate hands, scanning for tiny remnants of glass in her palms. "Why didn't you call us when the mirror broke?" he asked sternly, venting his worry onto her. "We could have brought a broom. You don't have to clean it up." "Can... can you fix it?" She looked so much like a child, vulnerable and helpless, this young woman with the weight of the world on her shoulders, the fate of millions in her hands. It was easy for Astair to forget she was only fifteen, a child compared to him. He gave her a reassuring smile as he cradled her lacerated hands in his own. "I will see what I can do, Madam. In the meantime, you must have these attended to." "But you can fix it, right?" Desperation and fear clouded her usually bright cornflower eyes. "It isn't destroyed, is it?" Nodding, Astair helped her to her feet, noting the exact size and frame of the broken mirror. "Yes, I will fix it. Leave it to me. Now, if you will go to Frederick..." Fixed. The promise rebounded through her numbed brain, brushing aside the barbs of rejection, once again offering her reprieve against the harshness of truth. Yes, it could be fixed; her dreams, her desires, everything could be fixed. Scarred, she withdrew back into the cocoon of her reality, patching her wounds with false hopes and promises. /He really loves me. He just wants to protect me. He has no feelings for that boy./ One by one the bandages loosely pulled her together, silk entrappings shielding her from the truth, drawing her further back into her own comforting world. And rejection did *not* happen in that world. Relena hardened her face to the impassive mask she wore when in public, refusing to let the cracks in her armor show. Heero was hers, he knew it just as much as she. It was only a matter of time. A smile grew on her face as she anchored herself into her reality. She would not let that grinning specter of death, that braided peasant, that *boy* take her Heero away from her. She would overcome Death; after all, she was Relena Peacecraft, Queen of the World. You are *mine*, Heero, she thought. *Mine*.