AUTHOR'S NOTES: Well, it's a little after Christmas but I hope no one minds too much. I wrote this a long while back for the Blissful Ignorance 2005 Christmas Challenge entitled: The KNIGHT Before Christmas (or Holiday KNIGHTS). Rules involved (1.) 300 word minimum (2.) Het pairings (3.) Gundam Wing (4.) Fits theme (5.) Includes the following objects/things in the body of the fic: snowflake(s), a kiss (or kisses), and (at least) one of the following medieval-traditional Christmas items: wassail, yule log, or mistletoe. And extra credit to those who want to include the following line: "The true meaning of knighthood lies not in the glory or the money but in..." (suggested by inukikyo).
Happy Holidays!
"The true meaning of knighthood lies not in the glory or the money but in..."
Tuning out what would no doubt ensue to be a long and ponderous speech concerning the season and goodwill toward men, Wufei turned away from the podium. Plagued with boredom and a vague restlessness that held no particular name, he wove through the glittering throng of politicians and other high-flyers and tried to make his leave-taking towards the balcony as inconspicuous as possible. Which really turned out to be not at all that possible.
After all, he was the only Chinese man dressed in Chinese garb.
Glaring at another gawker, Wufei took mild pleasure in the way the unwelcome gaze immediately skittered away to focus with sudden fascinated concentration at the speaker still droning on his holiday spiel. Other gawkers met the same fate, but it was bothersome and he almost regretted thumbing his nose at what he knew was expected when the invitation said for guests to arrive in 'traditional medieval garb.' Although it was never specified what kind of traditional medieval, that it would be of the old European variety only made common sense but Wufei couldn't bring himself to do it for one very good reason.
There was no sadder sight than a Chinese man dressed in medieval European armor.
The few delegates of Chinese heritage he'd spotted were proof of that.
Granted, judging from how the guests were dressed, medieval didn't necessarily mean donning metal armor from head-to-toe, which was probably a good thing as the men Wufei had come across in just that hadn't looked very comfortable. Or flexible. But the alternative didn't seem much better to him because, while more relaxed, putting on colored tights just seemed somehow…wrong. Judging from the looks on men's faces who'd gone that route showed that many of them were of the same opinion.
It was good to be Chinese.
While it made him stand out in the crowd, and being in the public eyes wasn't something he enjoyed, the clothing of his ancient heritage suited him much better than anything else. He didn't regret dressing in them, though he did regret having to come at all. But it was a political ball and, like it or not, the Gundam pilots were very much political figures and all were required to come, a statement that even the symbols of war were shifting to the tides of peace that this event represented on the night before Christmas.
It wasn't all bad, Wufei supposed. At least instead of a seated dinner where he'd have to rub elbows and be forced to converse with whomever he was seated beside, food was served in an open-style buffet. Complete with traditional European-type Christmas fare, Wufei had sampled the buffet earlier and while he couldn't take a liking to the yule log, which had been too sweet for his taste, he had to admit the wassail was rather nice. He'd never had any before and, while strange on his tongue at first, he came to quite enjoy it. If he had a choice between rubbing elbows and gossiping with society's elite or nursing a cup of wassail in solitude, he knew what his choice would be.
It wasn't, however, a choice he was given.
"Making your great escape?" an amused voice asked just when he thought he was alone.
Turning in the direction from which he'd come, he saw the last person he expected to see follow him out the balcony doors away from the bright and laughing crowd of politicians which, judging from her elegant medieval lady costume, suited her much more than it did him. It wasn't as if they'd spent much time together in the past so it made him wonder what she was doing outside with him here now.
"I could ask the same of you," he shot back. "It's your party."
"It is? That's strange, I can't recall having to do anything with it until I received the invitation myself."
"You know what I mean," Wufei snorted, turning his back on her as he leaned his arms on the balcony railing and stared out at the winter's night. "The theme of goodwill and peace towards men…this gathering was put together specifically for you."
"Funny," Relena mused as she joined him at the railing, "I always thought that theme went with this season, not just me."
"You have to read between the lines. Politicians don't do anything without an ulterior motive."
"Oh?"
"Except for you. Maybe."
Instead of being insulted, she laughed. "Thank you, I think."
He just gave a low grunt in response.
"I know you have a cynical and low view on politicians."
"It's nothing personal."
"No. I actually agree with much of it."
That vaguely surprised him. "You do?"
"Of course. It's hard dealing with them day after day and not pick up on the way they think or try to maneuver things to their way with their sometimes not-so-pleasant methods. Though I muddle through it, it doesn't always mean I like it."
"Then why do you do it?"
At that, she smiled at him. "Because someone has to. And because I care about the people politics will effect, I'd rather it be me doing it than someone else who doesn't have the same scruples."
"The lesser evil."
"Exactly."
"I don't envy you."
"Sometimes, I don't either." She tilted her head. "So, you never answered my question. Were you escaping?"
"Were you?" he countered.
"I won't tell if you won't."
He frowned, not wanting to be drawn into the childishness of it.
"Oh, come on!" Relena huffed. "Can't you unbend a little? It's childish not to."
At that, he relented. "I got tired of the staring."
"Ah, your costume." She looked him over. "It's different, but it's you. I like it." A teasing smile curled her lips. "Much better than a suit of armor."
He made a sound that could have meant anything.
Amused, she asked, "Did you see Trowa?"
"No. Why?"
Her eyes just laughed up at him.
When he finally got it, his lips twitched. "Really?"
"Yes." She gave a tiny giggle. "Though I've always had a hard time reading him, he still somehow manages to look horribly uncomfortable."
"He should have gone for the tights."
"Probably. After all, Duo and Quatre seem to enjoy them."
Wufei grimaced. "So I saw."
Images of Duo happily prancing around in tights wasn't a sight Wufei wanted to recall. It was disturbing how much his costume seemed to suit him while Quatre managed to still seem like a courtly gentleman in his. Fierce Gundam pilots reduced to fools in costumes and tights…maybe he should have considered another line of work.
"It wasn't so bad," Relena said. "At least they seem to be enjoying themselves regardless of the situation. Unlike you. And Heero."
That had him cracking a smile. "He doesn't seem to be taking too well to the tights."
"Well, Duo told me he was leaning towards the armor. Until Duo convinced him that he'd be more comfortable the other way. But I think now that Heero would rather have gone the less pleasant route. When I spoke to him, I had the impression that he was a bit envious of you."
That surprised as much as it amused. That Heero would envy anyone, much less admit it, and envy him of all people was something he found so odd, Wufei was hard pressed to find anything to say. Eyeing the woman next to him, he had a feeling that Heero would only comment on such a trivial thing with her. While he initially found the thought of a Gundam pilot and a very-much-in-the-public-eye politician unusual, much less a personality like Heero's matched with one like hers, who was he to judge if it worked for them?
Not that he ever thought much about other people's relationships aside from a working one. Why would he? It was none of his business what other people did behind closed doors and if he didn't even bother about his own nonexistent relationships, why would he bother to concern himself with those of others?
Relationships. Gah, even hypothesizing about them gave him a headache!
Drawing in a breath of crisp night air, he exhaled but that vague restlessness he'd been plagued with all night – and long before if he were being truthful – was still there like an itch he just couldn't scratch. So caught up was he in his internal reflections that he even forgot about the feminine presence beside him until she sneezed.
"A-choo!"
He glanced at her just in time to see her shiver and rub her arms. While the medieval lady's garment she wore bore long sleeves, her costume didn't consist of as many layers as his own and it suddenly occurred to him that it wasn't suitable for being out in the winter night without a coat for long duration. Inwardly cursing himself for his insensitivity to others – it would hardly do if he let the princess of peace get sick on his watch, after all – he hurried to correct his oversight.
"Why don't we head back inside before you catch a cold?"
"Just a second," she said with a shake of her head. "I want to watch the snow fall."
He blinked. "But it's not snowing."
No sooner had he spoken than he felt a drop of wetness on his cheek. Looking up, he saw tiny spots of white beginning to lazily drift down from the skies above. A happy sigh had him caught his attention and he found his companion holding her cloth-covered arm out, a tiny smile lifting her lips and her gaze focused on fabric.
Puzzled, he asked, "What are you doing?"
"Looking at snowflakes." She held her arm out to him. "See? Each snowflake has a different design and I've always been fascinated by them. But if you catch it with your hand, it melts instantly on contact. Catching them on cloth is the best way you can examine them closely."
He stared at her. Seeing this gleeful childlike side to the refined woman was an unexpected surprise. As if feeling his gaze, she looked up and stared back in amusement.
"What? You've never done anything silly before?"
He thought about it. "Not intentionally."
"Wufei," she sighed. "No offense, but you need to loosen up."
He was offended anyway. "I'm fine the way I am."
She made a noncommittal sound. "I think it's time to go back in."
"Well, I am."
Ignoring that, she offered him a hand. "In keeping with tonight's theme, will you do the knightly thing and escort a damsel in distress back inside?" She sent him a winsome smile. "You're right, I was escaping too. All the figurative bowing and scraping gets on my nerves sometimes. But now it's time to go back into the lion's den before rumors start flying about our torrid affair."
His eyes widened.
"Oh, don't look so horrified," she laughed. "You'll hurt my feelings."
"I wasn't horrified," he muttered, taking her hand. "I just don't know how you can stand it sometimes."
"The rumors?"
He gave a brusque nod.
"It's something you have to get used to. And find humor in it or else go crazy otherwise."
"What does your other think about it?" he asked, and would have kicked himself for the intrusive question if he could have. It was none of his business.
But Relena wasn't bothered. "Heero? I believe he finds it slightly annoying and tolerates it, though he doesn't really care what people say as long as it doesn't affect me negatively. I doubt you pay attention to the rumor mill but some of the things that have been said about us, especially by opposition to the policies I support, can be far-fetched and really wild, not to mention vicious." A secret smile played about her lips. "But Heero's way of comforting me when he thinks they've got me down can be…nice."
He shouldn't have asked.
He really shouldn't have asked.
Uncomfortable and ears burning with what couldn't have been embarrassment because embarrassment was the result of doing something stupid and everyone knew Wufei didn't do those kinds of stupid things, he tried hard to pretend he hadn't heard anything. It turned out to be not that difficult because as soon as the two of them reached the threshold of the balcony doors, he froze.
Everyone was staring at them. Everyone.
Features carefully schooled in to blank stoicism, he gave no sign that showed just how unnerved he was by the immediate and focused attention. Scanning his gaze around the crowd of faces, he tried to figure out just what it was that caught everyone's attention but saw nothing but goofy grins and annoying smirks.
Why was everyone staring?!
A muffled sound had him turning to glance down at his side. Sparkling eyes laughed up at him as a feminine finger pointed up. Hairs prickled in foreboding alarm at the back of his neck as he followed the direction to gaze upwards only to stop at a bundle of leaves tied with a festive red ribbon hanging overhead.
Mistletoe.
Damn, he knew he should have stayed at home!
"Are you afraid?" Relena asked, amusement clear in her tone. "Because with this much of a crowd, we have an obligation to uphold the traditions of Christmas."
"It's not the tradition of my people."
"But when in Rome…"
He glared.
She chuckled. "It's just for appearances, something that has to be done. Think of it as a gesture of goodwill upholding your duty to keep peace by promoting interracial cooperation."
He snorted, amused despite himself.
"I promise it won't hurt," she teased. "Just close your eyes and think of China."
He gave a short cough to cover his chuckle.
He tensed, however, at the light touch on his face. Wary, he was caught in smiling eyes that loomed closer as she leaned in. Spine stiff, he stood there like a frozen statue as he willed himself not to back away like a coward before a multitude of watching eyes. Humor was in her tone, reflected in her gaze, when she was just a breath away.
"You look like you're facing your execution," she whispered for his ears only as she leaned in and closed that final distance.
They kissed.
Under mistletoe. In front of lots of people. Before cameras that he could distantly hear clicking away – they kissed.
Well, he was kissed. By her.
He just stood there.
It wasn't that long, just the soft press of lips against lips, hers against his, and over in an instant. A friendly kiss, a pleasant kiss. It didn't mean anything, he told himself, as she pulled away with a still-amused expression at his apparent petrified state. Tilting her head, she tapped her lips.
"Lipstick," she replied to his baffled stare. "You might want to wipe it off."
He blinked, then caught sight of an approaching Heero out of the corner of his eye. Uneasy and wondering if he was about to be killed, he eyes his comrade warily and wasn't eased in the least by the calmly blank face that returned the stare.
"Relax, Wufei," Relena said warmly. "I'll keep him from killing you."
The look he turned on her was dry. "Thanks."
When Heero finally reached them, Relena was quick lean against his side, an arm sliding around his waist as she stood on tiptoe to whisper something into his ear too low for Wufei to catch. Whatever she said had the angled features on the Gundam pilot's face softening in a way that Wufei would have been hard-pressed to believe of the ex-assassin if he hadn't witnessed it himself. While the action itself wasn't as intimate as a kiss, Wufei felt he was observing something that was supposed to be just as private.
There was that vague unnamed restless feeling again, whatever it was. Shifting on his feet, he looked away from the scene as he pondered the reasons behind his unstable emotions and coming up with no satisfactory answer.
"Wufei?"
Relena's inquiry broke him from his thoughts.
"It's time for that mingling again," she told him when she had his attention. "Duties to uphold and all that. But I'm glad we had a chance to talk. Maybe we can do it again sometime."
"Sure." What else could he say?"
"Then I suppose I'll see you later," she said with a smile.
With a small wave, she was led off by Heero who gave him a nod of acknowledgment that showed there were no hard feelings for the previous public display. Staring after them, watching as they were swallowed by the glittering crowd that had returned to its previous activity before a certain kiss below the mistletoe, an odd feeling of dissatisfaction swept through him and he couldn't quite pinpoint its source.
Touching his lips, he let go with an uncharacteristic sigh and turned his attention from things he didn't understand to things he did. Unnoticed, he slipped back outside to the balcony, this time undisturbed, and found his solitude, which wasn't as inviting as it had once been. Trying hard not to think of anything, attempting to find a peaceful balance within himself, he simply leaned against the railing and stared up into the cold winter night's sky.
And he watched the snow fall.