Conclusion

1. an end or finish.

2. the summing-up of an argument or text.

3. a judgement or decision reached by reasoning.

4. the settling of a treaty or agreement.

The soft chimes of a bell rang out across the muted dinner conversation, causing an instant hush as Relena Peacecraft stood, her sash of royalty clear against the pearly white of her evening gown. Her eyes swept across the banqueting hall as she held aloft her glass.

'My Lords, Ladies and gentlemen, I propose a toast.'

The company rose as one.

'To those who, without their bravery, intelligence and sacrifice, we would not be starting this new era of peace. To the Gundam Pilots.'

'To the Gundam Pilots.'

The objects of the toast sat scattered at the heads of different tables, downcast, lost in their own thoughts.

The period of time just before 10.00 pm found Duo Maxwell leaning his elbows against an empty table as waltz music drifted through the massive double doors leading to the ballroom. He didn't look up as a figure dropped into a chair beside him.

'Tell me when it's polite enough ta blow this joint,' he growled.

'Not until eleven at least. Relena insisted we must stay until then,' Wufei replied, sounding equally disgruntled.

Surprised, Duo cocked his head to one side.

'Not havin' fun, Wu?'

Any reply that might have been made was forestalled by the appearance of a manservant requesting their presence, urgently. With an odd sense of shared reluctance, they followed the man away from the celebrations towards the far side of the house, eventually arriving above at the mansion's entrance, three floors up.

They were met by three bemused pilots and a princess who seemed to be hiding an inexplicable excitement. Badly.

'Relena-' Quatre began, but was stopped as she put a gloved finger to her lips.

'Listen.'

Silence fell in the small room that led out to a balcony, sheltered by a thick velvet drape. A muted rumbling sound became a steady roar, voice upon voice upon voice. They looked at each other in startled puzzlement. Suddenly a voice spoke from beyond the curtain.

'Three, two, one and …live.'

'This is for you,' Relena whispered as she grasped the curtain and swept it back. They stepped hesitantly out on to the balcony.

The view rushed to met them, grasping them and snatching their breath away. Trowa's eyes widened as Heero's mouth dropped open. The volume of noise magnified upon their arrival and a blast of air sent Wufei's trousers billowing and Duo's braid dancing behind him. Quatre was grasping the railings, white-knuckled from the sheer heart-pounding, nerve-crackling energy in the air.

They stood looking down upon the upturned faced of a multitude beyond count, stretching away into the grounds, candles twinkling and banners flying. Amongst the gathering were raised huge screens, showing yet more crowds from around the world and every colony, cheering wildly.

They had all joined Quatre by the railing, hanging on for dear life as they stared out, wide eyed.

'Wh-what…?' Wufei stuttered.

'They wanted to say thank you,' Relena said. 'They were the ones that mattered, weren't they? And they are the ones that matter. You listen to them.' She waved an arm out and the noise redoubled. 'And not to them.' She flapped a contemptuous hand behind her at the ongoing ball.

They stood there gaping at her, then suddenly Trowa burst into laughter, picking her up and swinging her around. She squeaked in surprise and tottered at he set her down, only to be steadied by Heero. He stared down at her, and whispered, 'Thank you.'

In the moment after, something akin to panic fluttered across his face. Then he reached out and gently pushed back a strand of hair.

Rolling his eyes, Duo stared out across the mass of people, staring at the colony screens, at the third world screens, at poverty and gratitude mingled. Swallowing, he felt emotions rise and dropped his head. Next to him, Quatre released a long, steady sigh, closed his eyes and smiled.

'At last…I'm feeling right again.'

Wufei nodded, having regained his balance.

Behind them, a smile of delight.

'You are never nothing...'

The End

'After all, all he did was string together a lot of old, well-known quotations.'

H. L. Mencken (1880 - 1956), on Shakespeare