"I am not a pacifist." -Heero Yuy
The trip from the only place I had ever known and the train station was an uneventful as having a staring contest with my father. That is, until he won. Father was very enthusiastic about winning.
I sat on the bench facing the empty tracks, grasping my ticket in my shaking hands. Many thoughts ran through my head. The most dominant of which was, of course, ‘Where the hell is Cinq?’
The train whistle sounded in the distance, causing me to jump about a foot from my seat. It was so loud. You must, remember, I had never heard one before, so it startled more than most.
I gave the teller my ticket and boarded, taking the seat he led me to. Father had no doubt gotten the best for me. I had my own car, and it was furnished accordingly for my favorite era in history: Renaissance. I took a seat at the window and watched the world pass by in a blur. I must have fallen asleep, because sooner than I expected, we were there. I felt a bit guilty for not using the luxuries that came along with that ticket, but those feelings were soon overcome as I stepped off the train.
I could see, off in the distance, some sort of castle. I walked along the run of the station, staring at it, and almost ran into a pole and two benches along the way. I saw a girl about my age walk quickly past me, and I grabbed her arm, stopping her. Don’t ask why I did; I felt the instinct to.
"What?" she asked bitterly.
"Oh, I’m sorry, I just was wondering who that magnificent castle belongs to. It’s amazing!"
"Oh, that place? You mean you don’t know? What planet are you from?"
"Well, I’ve just never been here before, excuse me!" I responded, angry at her rudeness. I turned to walk off, but this time she stopped me.
"Wait a moment...who are you?" she inquired, sounding curious.
"Sarah Yuy," was my answer.
"Yuy?" her eyebrows raised so high I thought them to jump off her head. "Are you, by any chance, related to Heero Yuy?"
"Yes, he’s my father, why?"
"That palace belongs to my SOB of a father, Miliardo Peacecraft. Who, by chance, is your mother?"
By this time, although I had found my only cousin, I was boiling over. My mother had always told me that if I inherited anything from my father, it was his temper. Yes, I remember the only thing that kept me under control. Sunshine and daisies, sunshine and daisies...black daisies...sunburns. I laughed in spite of myself. I loved my sense of humor.
"My mother," I finally answered. "Is Relena Darlian,"
"No way! Auntie Relena got married to him? Come with me, I‘ve got to see this!" she drug me off to a car nearby, starting it. I noticed a tiara around the rear view mirror, along with a diamond pendant. Then, for the first time, I realized how much she reminded me of the picture Mother had of my uncle.
"This is gonna be great!" she exclaimed, speeding up the steep slope to the palace.
"I’m sorry, but, who are you? I didn’t catch your name...," I stated uneasily.
"Princess Priscilla Peacecraft, at your service...well, not really. You’re supposed to serve me, actually. I’m the Princess, not you...," she answered pompously.
"Yeah...," I responded, temper reaching a low simmer. "Sunshine and daisies," I added under my breath.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing...," clenching and unclenching my hands, I stared out the window. The castle loomed up before me, but at the moment I was too concerned with restraining the sudden urge to wrap my fingers around her "delicate Princess throat."
~*~
The car stopped abruptly and she jumped out, skipping up the walkway. I got out as well, making my way up to the front. As I closed the car door, she shouted, "Oh, wait, can you grab my tiara? Well, actually, scratch that. I’ll tell him that I lost it...I never liked that one anyway...," Her perpetuous exertion of over self confidence and never ending egotistical comments reminded me much of my father, even though he didn’t speak as continuous as she. Not even knocking, she strode inside, throwing her coat upon a chair just past the parlor. The main problem with her coat throwing was that my uncle was sitting in the chair, and the jacket landed squarely on his honey blonde hair.
"Oh, yes, just the person I wanted to talk to...,"
"You wanted to talk to...me? What do you want...let me rephrase that. What did you break? How much money do you need? What did you crash into? Your choice...,"
"No, Father, I just wanted introduce you to my new friend, Sarah...," Uncle Miliardo stood up sharply, coming forward to greet me while tossing the windbreaker back at his daughter. He hadn’t seen me yet, but as soon as he looked up, Priscilla finished her sentence. "Yuy...,"
The blood drained from his face, and I was positive his knees where about to buckle at any given moment. Glancing over at my cousin, the strong dislike I felt for her grew strong as I noticed a grin plastered on her face and her eyes lit up in watching her father’s anguish.
"Are you okay?" I asked, my attention focused more on my mother’s brother now.
He stared at me, looking over my features and furrowing his brow. "As in, Heero’s sister’s daughter, right?"
"No, well, as in, Heero Yuy’s daughter, Sarah Peacecraft Yuy,"
"He didn’t...," My uncle stated in denial, shaking his head furiously.
Princess Priscilla piped up from somewhere behind him. "Oh, but he did...,"
"I’m sorry, but what is this all...,"
"Your mother. Please tell me she’s not named...," he paused, trying to regain himself before continuing. "Relena,"
At the moment, I really didn’t want to admit that to being my mother’s name, but I had no choice. "Well, um, how about this? Father always calls Mother ‘dove,’ and not...so...much...Relena...," I chuckled nervously.
Remember that blood that previously drained from his face a few moments earlier? It returned; with reinforcements. "Why that dirty, yellow, low-life, bastard, son of a bitch! He didn’t even have the courage to tell me! How dare he lay a hand on my sister!"
The steady stream of insults pouring from my uncle’s mouth was quite impressive really. After the comment which would have caused the impression that Father hit Mother to be driven into any spectator’s mind, his tirade pretty much ran together. I think he was making up insults just so he could keep shouting to help vent his anger.
"When he told me that his reason for not killing me was because Relena would be sad, i hadn’t actually thought he cared about her feelings. I convinced myself that he was just being the weakling I know that he really is! When were you born?"
His question caught me off guard because I thought he was still raging on about Father. The look following my silence was enough to instigate the blurting out of , "September 23, AC 197." and a rapid dropping of mouths.
"You were born that soon after Mariemaia? Wow he really got down to it..." he paused, and I figured he wasn’t angry anymore. "Were they married first? Oh, if he just knocked her and up left...ooh I’ll hunt that bastard down and pull his heart out through his foot!"
After witnessing this, I found the cause of my short temper not to be my father. Still, not wanting to make Uncle Miliardo only more angry, simply because I knew what I was capable of when I got a bit mad, I answered his question with a very determined, "Of course they were married!"
Priscilla rolled her eyes at this comment. "What would be the problem if they hadn’t been, Father?" she asked in a sickly-sweet tone that convinced me of her spoiled temperament.
Shooting a murderous glance that caused his daughter to recoil in fear, Zechs, continued, bringing his voice down once again to an "inside voice."
"Is Relena still alive? Wait, let me take that back; is Heero still alive? I know Relena is, she’s too strong to die at her age. Unless that ass finally followed through with his mission to kill her...and even then, she’d survive."
"Well, sir, yes, they are both alive and well, I hope..."
"You didn’t run away did you?" he asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.
"No, Father sent me here on a mission. I have to..."
"You live with your father? Why not Relena? She’s make a better mother than he would a father! Was the jury crazy when they gave him custody or what?"
Now, I admit, when he asked if my parents were married when I was born, it did anger me a tiny bit. But now he was implying that they were divorced and that Father did love her and was a horrible parent to me! I couldn’t keep my temper at bay for much longer. The dam broke after this one statement.
"Did Relena ever tell you why she married that jerk? Was it because of you?"
"Now you listen here! You have absolutely no right to be talking about my father in this way! He is a wonderful man and he loves Mother as much to where he’d die for her if the situation called for it! And they got married because they are in love, not because of some accident names Sarah! They are still together and I live with them both and we are ONE HAPPY FAMILY!" I screamed, pulling out my hidden firearm and cocking it. The sighted along the barrel, pointing it towards his head, and calmed myself, hands shaking. In a quivering voice I stated as monotone as possible, "So you can just take all of what you said about him back."
Taking a breath instead, the tall man stared down at me, his left eyebrow twitching. Silence enveloped the room. Priscilla just kept glancing back and forth between us, eyes wide in amazement at the battle of tempers. Realizing the situation, she muttered under her breath, "You can tell she’s a Peacecraft." and turned to flounce up the stairs.
I watched Uncle Miliardo, never blinking, and witnessed a small grin tug at his cheeks, breaking open his mouth in a wide smile. A low note of laughter escaped his lips, then another, as he made his way over to a loveseat, sitting down and making a grab for a pipe.
My mouth dropped. There I was, his one and only niece, threatening his life, and he was cracking up and smoking a pipe as if nothing happened! I pressed for an explanation. "Well?"
"That’s different then." he replied.
"What’s different?" I demanded.
"That they were and are married still, he loves her, and you were planned. That means that either his humanity has returned, or she has a lot of guns. And judging by that thing," he pointed to my weapon. "I’d say it was the latter."
My arm dropped down to my thigh, and the gun almost escaped my grasp as I felt my side go limp. Before I knew it, my knees buckled and I was laying on the floor, Miliardo and some other woman standing over me. Then my world went black.
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