SHIN KIDOU SENKI GUNDAM WING

SAINAN NO KEKKA
Navidad

I. UNA LUZ BRILLÓ EN LA NOCHE
[Una luz brilló en la noche, Un ángel canta en el Cielo
Ha nacido de María, Jesús, el Dios verdadero]

Are you going to Scarborough Fair? // Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there // She once was a true love of mine

"Papá? I'm home."

She stepped gingerly into the study to see the leather chair turned away, the back of her father's head facing her as he watched the flames in the fireplace. The room smelled of cinnamon and cider and some unnamed musky fragrance that reminded her of the Spanish roses which her mother had loved.

Her father turned slowly in his chair and she couldn't help feeling a pang of disappointment that there wasn't more of a welcoming expression in his face. Then again, she hadn't been expecting one.

León Catalonia, Duke Dermail, was dressed in his usual silk dressing gown, the same kind he had been wearing at home ever since she could remember. Though now he was wearing silver-rimmed glasses, which he hadn't needed before when she had lived here, and as he stood up, she noticed that he had been reading. She struggled to make out the title of the book, but it was too far away and she didn't want him to notice her trying to make it out.

"Welcome home, hija," he said, reaching out both arms. Obediently, she crossed to the desk and let him kiss both her cheeks gently. As if everything was all right. "I trust you had a good trip?"

"Yes, father," Alicia Catalonia said. The Spanish that she had not used in almost eight years sounded awkward to her ears, like child's Spanish.

He released her. "Good. The servants should have brought up your things by now. I suggest you go rest."

She stood uncomfortably for a moment, hoping he'd say something else, but he merely put took up the book again and settled himself back in his chair. Slowly, she walked to the gilt-gold edged double doors and slipped out between then, closing them softly.

She still remembered her way around the manor, making her way absent-mindedly to the front doors and then out to the front porch of the house, a massive stone-fenced structure with slim stone pillar supports, Spanish moss draped in flowing arcs from the old iron hooks that had once been used to hold hanging flowerpots. The manor itself was over ninety years old, built by her great-grandfather whom she had never met. Her father talked about him sometimes, though she had never really listened. She'd never cared to.

The air was bitterly cold, but she didn't mind, staring off into the dusky sky and at the winking lights of Santiago de Compestela across the river. There would be a festival tonight, a continuation of the holiday festival that had been going on for the past two weeks before her arrival. Tonight would be a big one. She remembered the celebrations from her childhood: the folk costumes, the dancing, the storytelling and the food. So much food. Usually it snowed, but tonight there was no snow, though last week's snow still hugged the ground. It wouldn't melt till the spring.

"Alicia?"

One of the front doors creaked open and she heard the step of a boot on the stone patio. Knew who it was even though she had not seen him in eight years.

"Hello, León," she said.

Her brother didn't say a word as he came up to join her, leaning on the balcony with his arms crossed in front of him. She stared at the city lights for a while longer, then turned her head to look at him. He'd grown, she noted absently. A lot. His broad shoulders filled out his overcoat and the elegant riding jacket and pants under it. He'd grown his hair out since she'd seen him, and it hung curling and dark just brushing his shoulders, longer than their father had ever had his. For two men who bore the same name, they shared nothing else in common.

She was glad.

"Eight years and you don't have any more words for me?" he said, teasingly.

She couldn't tear her eyes away as he turned his head to look at her and then she was wrapping her arms around him, feeling her tears spill onto the slightly scratchy material of his coat, and she felt his arms around her.

"Alicia…" he murmured. "Alicia, welcome home."

"I've missed you," she said fiercely. "You don't know how much I've missed you…"

"I've missed you too," he intoned softly, breaking her tight embrace to hold her at arms' length and look at her. His dark eyes were soft in the fading light. "You're still as beautiful as ever, little sister…and as rebellious, I assume."

She turned away from him and he caught her arm. "Sorry. It was a joke."

"I…I saw Papá before I came out here. He didn't say a thing."

León raised an eyebrow. "No?"

Alicia scuffed one toe of her book along the railing. "Not a damn thing…not that he missed me, not if I've had a good twelve years away from home. As if I'd never left."

"Well," her brother reasoned, "at least you two didn't argue."

She didn't reply to that, and after a moment he placed one hand on her shoulder. "Come on. It's cold out here and you don't have a coat on…you'll freeze. I'll help you unpack."

Alicia hesitated a moment, then nodded and let him lead her back through the doors, up the spiral staircase and through the long corridor of the first floor to the room which she'd occupied as a child, before she'd made up her mind to go to the Academy. Her father hadn't liked that. It had been a bad parting.

The servants had piled her trunks in a neat little pile by her canopied bed, which had been freshly made before she had arrived., and she lifted the first one onto the feather-down quilt, snapping it open. Bras and underwear spilled out and she glanced at her brother, but he didn't seem fazed as she began folding them.

"You're really quiet," León remarked, watching her throw her things into the open drawers of the boudoir by the bed. "You didn't used to be like this."

"Yes, well, things change," Alicia said. "Sometimes I don't know why I agreed to come back for Christmas. It's too quiet here."

"What did make you come back?"

Something in his voice made her stop and turn around. "What do you mean?"

His dark, clear gaze was penetrating. "You know what I mean. You've been avoiding us for twelve years and then suddenly you call and say you're coming home for Christmas? You and Papá don't even talk, for goodness' sake."

"Things change, León," she said softly. "More than you think."

"What's that around your neck?" he asked suddenly.

"What? Oh…this?" She drew out the ring that hung heavy on a thin gold chain nestled close to her skin. Its amethyst stone sparkled in the light, and she held it out to him so he could read it. She already knew the raised lettering by heart.

LAKE VICTORIA ACADEMY CLASS OF '66

"Boyfriend?" he asked.

She stuffed the ring back inside the neck of her dress, turning away. "I don't want to talk about it."

He sighed explosively. "We don't seem to be starting it off on the right foot, do we?"

"Look León," she said, pulling out a long scarf from her pack. "It's been eight years since I've seen you and twelve since I've been home. Things change. We've both grown up. All right? I just need….I just need a little time, that's all, to adjust, then I'll be fine."

"A little time, Alicia, and you'll be gone back to Britain. We don't have that. Who knows when I'll see you again?"

The raw hurt in his voice surprised her and the scarf in her hands trembled a bit. "I didn't know you missed me that much," she murmured.

"You're all I've got," he said. "With the colonies in such a mess after Yuy's death…I don't want to lose you."

"Don't be stupid, León."

"I'm being melodramatic again, aren't I?" His voice was rueful. "Too much time around those old Federation fogies, I guess."

"León," she said suddenly, "the Dermail Duchy won't be yours until both Papá and Uncle Sergio die, will it?"

"Why do you care?"

"I thought you wanted it," she said, carefully folding and smoothing the scarf and placing it beside the clothes on the bed. "You always talked about it before."

"That was a long time ago," he said. "Before I realized that it wasn't all fun and games."

"León-"

"This conversation is way too serious for my taste," he said, and she felt his hand on her arm, felt him pull her around. She made a surprised yelp in her throat. "Come on, let's go downstairs. Papá won't be out yet until the guests are all here, but the first ones will be arriving any minute."

"Christmas Eve," she said. "Noche Buena. What's so good about it?"

He came forward a few steps and hugged her. "Alicia, if there's something you want to talk about…"

"No," she said into his chest, feeling the ring around her neck digging into her collarbone. "Nothing."

"Let's go downstairs," he said.

"I think I'd rather stay here…"

León frowned at her. "Alicia-"

"I'll be down in ten minutes," she said. "Ten. Give me time to put the rest of my things up and change. This dress isn't suitable for the party."

"I'll be waiting," he said, just as a knock sounded on her door. León opened it. The servant standing outside bowed politely.

"Señor, the Estancios are here."

"I'll be right down," León said, easing the door closed. "Alicia, are you sure-"

"I'm fine," she said angrily. "Fine. Leave it, all right?"

He still didn't look convinced as he left, and she sat down on her bed, a sock in her hands, staring at the wall. When they had been children it had always been her asking why, asking to bend the rules, and her brother the solemn one who would restrain her, hold her back. It was much the same now.

León said that she had changed, but it was he that had changed. He'd always been solid and quiet, but now he seemed burdened with a sense of responsibility that hadn't been there when they had parted ways twelve years ago. He had been the spoiled heir to the Dermail estates, the firstborn male child, the family prodigy at only fifteen years old. Anything León did was great. Anything that she did was frowned upon, because she was the girl child, useful only for marriage.

At age thirteen, she'd rebelled.

Her father hadn't liked it. In fact, he'd hated it. He'd threatened to cut her off, leave her on her own without a penny to her name. But León had stepped in, intervened, and the elder Catalonia had let her go. She hated her brother for that sometimes. It had been her one great act of rebellion, and even that had to be marred by his perfection.

León loved her. He loved her too much to let her truly be free. After she had graduated from the Academy and had been stationed in Germany he'd shown up at her flat in Rammstein one day unannounced, and she had no choice but to let him in, let him fuss over her and reassure her that she was welcome at home any time. She'd wondered at first how he had even gotten on base, but later realized that the names Catalonia and Dermail were powerful tools.

She never mentioned her ties to her family if she could help it, but she knew León reveled in the political scene, the intrigue and the gossip and the scandals. He was always on the news regarding some new development in the political arena….he along with Mayer and Georg Khushrenada and Corwin Peacecraft. It wasn't entirely his fault. He had been groomed for this since birth, and she had not.

Alicia sighed, got up, slid the dress that she'd brought for the party off the hangar and changed quickly. Reaching for a brush for her hair, her hand brushed the edges of the silken scarf and she picked it up. The fabric was woven in a gypsy pattern, wide bands of color swirling in dizzying patterns that made her lightheaded if she stared at it for too long. On a whim, she draped it over her shoulders, which were left bare by the elegant evening gown. She had forgotten how she hated parties.

The tinkling music of the harpsichord in the music room downstairs drifted through the wood of her closed door, which meant that the Khushrenadas were here and that Marie was showing off again. No matter that no one played the harpsichord anymore, because if it was refined, no matter how old fashioned, Marie would do it. Alicia had never liked Marie. Or her sister…Emily?

It had been a while.

The scarf was soft and cool on her warm skin and she touched it gently, remembering his touch, so long ago before she had pushed him away, frightened of her own humanity. No one had ever…loved her like he had. Not even León.

"Alicia! Are you coming?"

That was her brother. She reluctantly opened the door and hurried to the stairs, placing one gloved hand on the railing and taking careful steps down. There were already quite a few people milling about, holding drinks and dainty pastries in their hands, talking, laughing. Marie was still playing the harpsichord in the other room.

"My, my, Señorita Catalonia…still as lovely as ever."

"Hello, Emily," she said calmly in English, ignoring the mocking words and taking the other woman's gloved hand. Emily Khushrenada was a lovely woman, but in a cold kind of a way that Alicia found nauseating rather than captivating. Then again, she was aware that Emily had had her eye on León for a while now. "It's been a long time."

Emily smiled graciously, though Alicia wasn't sure what lay behind those blank, beautiful eyes. "Alicia, meet my fiancé, the Comte d'Alsace, Jalbert Allaire."

So maybe Emily's designs on León hadn't worked out after all. Jalbert was a rather heavyset man with a broad face and a thin mouth. He bowed and took her hand, and Alicia murmured something that she hoped was polite and slipped away. She couldn't see León anywhere; he was probably in the music room with Marie. She was actually rather impressed that the whole Khushrenada extended family had come all the way from France and Germany to visit. Was there some special occasion?

The night air was as chilly as ever and she drew the shawl around her, shivering as she stepped onto the front porch again. It was too crowded in there, too many people drinking and talking about their meaningless engagements and gossip. She suddenly missed her mobile suit and her desk at the airbase. If she was going to take the holiday off, she wanted to enjoy it, and this was not her idea of enjoyment. She should never have come back.

"I'm a soldier," she said to the night air, "not a noblewoman."

"There's no reason you can't be both," said a voice behind her. León assumed his usual position beside her on the railing. "Aren't you cold?"

"Why do you have to be looking after me all the time?" she asked irritably.

"I'm your older brother," León said. "I have a certain resp-"

"Damn you!" Alicia shouted suddenly, ripping the scarf off her shoulders and flinging it at him. He caught it, surprised. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

She stormed into the house, not waiting to hear his reply, brushing by startled guests and running back up the stairs to her room, kicking off her high heels and flinging herself on the bed to stare at the ceiling. A tight ball of anger pulsed inside her and she grasped the ring around her neck, tugging hard on the chain, willing the room to melt away and to find herself back at her comfortable flat in Britain, with the roar of mobile suit testing on the Mildenhall airfields nearby and the fire crackling and a pot of coffee warming itself in the small kitchen.

This wealth…it sickened her, really. She'd forgotten what it was like, and now that she remembered, she had no desire to go back.

She gave an especially hard tug on the chain and it tensed, broke. Her hand hit the quilt, holding the ring with the loose chain crumpling around it.

There was a knock on the door.

"I don't want to talk to you!" she shouted, but the door opened anyway as she cursed herself for not having locked it, and, as she expected, León came into the room, closing the door behind him and locking it this time.

"Alicia, why are you avoiding me?"

"Because you're a nosy pest, that's why," she bit out. "You know, maybe I wouldn't be like this if you would leave me alone."

She expected him to give a pacifying answer to that, expected to become more angry at the answer, and looked for something to throw at him. But instead he held out a folded piece of cloth to her. She blinked, recognized her scarf.

"You forgot something."

She sat up, still clutching the ring, and took the scarf from him with her free hand, laying it in her lap. "León. Please, just…leave me alone."

"I'm engaged to Marie," he said suddenly.

Alicia blinked.

"I was going to write to you…but then I heard from Papá that you were coming home for Christmas and I figured I'd wait. It really didn't turn out the way I hoped, though…I thought you'd be happy to be here."

So that was why the whole Khushrenada clan was here tonight. She laughed scornfully. "Me? Happy here? I was perfectly happy until I got here."

"Then why did you come home?"

She laid the ring on top of the scarf carefully, cupping her hand on top of it. León, why are you making this so hard? "I…I wanted to make sure…I still had a home," she whispered, hoping that he wouldn't try to comfort her, because the last thing she wanted was comfort from him. It didn't mean a thing.

"Alicia, you'll always have a home," León said. "If not here, then wherever I am. You're always welcome."

"Well, you don't need me anymore, do you?" she said. "I mean, you have Marie now, and-"

In two steps he was there, kneeling at the side of the bed. "Marie and I are an arranged marriage. Papá arranged it. I have nothing to do with it. I don't even like Marie."

"Then why-"

"Sometimes you don't have a choice, do you?" She was surprised to hear a current of rough bitterness in his voice, and he got up, his back to her. "Sometimes you have to do what's expected of you. Even if you hate it."

Alicia could hardly keep from gaping at him. "León?"

"You had the right idea," he said. "You got away. I…I can't."

She slid off the bed, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "It's just that I can't…I don't belong here."

"Neither do I," he said sadly. "That's the crux, isn't it?"

"Thank you for bringing my scarf back."

"It's an interesting pattern," he remarked, putting his large hands on hers. "Gypsy pattern, correct?"

She nodded against his back. "How did you guess?"

"It's a distinctive pattern. Who gave it to you?"

"Someone very special," she whispered, letting go of him. "A long time ago."

He didn't question her. "If I'm making you uncomfortable, Alicia…"

"No," she said, smiling faintly up at him. "No, you could never do that. I'm just…not the same girl you knew when we were children. It's been too long."

"I understand," he said. "Believe me, I tried to get Father to change his mind…at least he didn't disown you like he had planned."

I'd rather he had, Alicia said silently, but she didn't speak her thoughts out loud, simply gathered the loose chain and ring and the scarf and handed them to her brother. "Can you keep these for me? They'll get misplaced if they stay with me."

The ring flashed a bright gold as León took it, tumbling from her hands to his in the loose embrace of the scarf. He gave her a quizzical look. "Why? You don't want them anymore? Bad memories?"

She shook her head. "No…good memories. Too good…I don't deserve them." I don't deserve him.

Again, he didn't press her. Twelve, even eight years ago, he would have, valiantly striving for the side of right, urging her to question her reasons. But he didn't do that now. "Alicia? Are you all right?"

She straightened and gave her brother as genuine a smile as she could manage. "I will be," she said. "When I have things all figured out."

"And when will that be?"

She shrugged. "Who knows? As you said, who knows how much time I have? I want to have things figured out…before it's too late."

"Now you're being melodramatic," León said chidingly. "You know I'll always love you, no matter who you are. And I don't know who gave these things to you…but I'm sure he always will, as well."

"How do you know it's a he?" she challenged.

"I don't," he said. "But who else would give a scarf and a ring to a lady?"

Alicia stared up at him, her gaze intense. "León. Promise me that you'll keep them for me. And when…when you find the woman you truly love, promise me you'll give them to her."

He looked confused. "What? I don't-"

"Promise." Gripping his hands. "Please. It's important."

She sensed him tense, then relax, and his eyes were clear and honest as he looked at her. "I promise, mi hermana. If it's that important to you. I'll promise you anything."

"Thank you," she whispered, then released his hands. "Come on, put them in your room and let's go down. We're missing the party."

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