Human Behavior
By Jillian Storm
(Disclaimer: I needed to take a break from Some Half-Baked Ideal Called Wonderful and thought I'd write something pretty off the wall for me. This is a Gundam, Alternate Reality fic about Une and her early relationships with Treize and Nichol. Some elements may be similar to the series, but for the most part it'll be a completely separate and different tale to suit my purposes. With their young ages also comes quite a bit of immaturity different from their developed character in series.)
***
Her name was Ekaterina Mikhailovna Une. A name to honor her maternal history, a lineage of Russian pride and dignity. Her father had affectionately called her Katenka. Kitty was the name her mother used in gentle moments. Grandpapa, when holding her on his knee, matching the weathered print with the measure of her smaller white fingers, called her Katia. Classmates, teachers named her Katerina.
So many names. Some familiar, some less so. The identities each assigning her a certain temperament, ascribed an expected behavior. Shaping her response. It was a game she played with more than a little ease. Performing was simple enough. To absorb whatever they anticipated and supplying the appropriate response. The only surprise she caused was that of an individual finding that they were right. As if following a script, she was everything they expected. Seventeen and already dancing the sophisticated circles of the elite.
She was the pride of her family.
The first individual who called her Une was the son of her mother's friend, Nikolai Fyodorovich Veslovsky. He was a sturdy lad with wiry, dark hair and manly burns stretched before his ears along sharp cheek bones. Nichol amused himself by watching Une charm others. All the while appreciating how she would share her honest opinions with him in the next room. Swirling the drink she managed to sneak from the elegant cupboards of the home's owner. Taking a fast swallow, then gossiping about how the Peacecrafts were losing the ability to hide their family skeletons. Of how the Po's daughter was far from still being an unspoiled bride. Une told him everything that he expected.
She treated him no differently than the others.
That night, Nichol had begun to feel the effects of the harder liquor himself. In a few minutes their absence would be noticed, he sat in the desk seat and was waiting until the dizzying buzz left the space between his ears. Une was browsing the books.
"I'd imagine that none of the Maxwells have actually read any of these." She said smartly, leaning forward so that her hands were balancing against her knees. Fingers entwined in the ample fabrics of her skirt. Nichol was used to seeing her in riding pants most days, so the more elegant robes of these dinner parties transformed her significantly. Her hair, rather than tied back into two coiled braids, spun around her bare shoulders. Those moments reminded him that she was different from himself: she was a woman. Or nearly so. "Perhaps one," This time she did look back as she pointed.
"What is that?" Nichol put his arms against the wooden rests on either side and made to lift himself up.
"War of the Worlds," she laughed lightly to herself, "Listening to them talk about wars and space and . . . sounds like that family has taken the story to heart." She turned around to face him as he began to walk toward the door back to the hallway. Back to the entertainment and the crowds.
Nichol smiled at her expression, one that seemed almost genuine as her caramel eyes sparkled. She seemed so harmless when she left her reading glasses at home.. Nichol knew better than to see her as innocent. Nevertheless, as much as he felt he knew her, the twinkle in her eye still felt mischievously directed at everyone and himself.
They maneuvered through the corridors. While their families clung to tradition and appearance, no one would question why they had slipped away for the better part of the last hour. With the busy atmosphere at formal dances, one could easily get misplaced.
The family portraits' dust covered eyes peered at the twosome through the shadows. Since this was the Maxwell home, more often than not, the images were separated by a crucifix or some replication of Catholic iconography. The individual portraits themselves seemed to be of saints, some with undisguised similarity to more famous church pictures or unsubtle haloes of light crowning their heads.
Nichol commented, "This house always makes me feel like a sinner."
"Please," Une dismissed his comment. "And if we were in the Peacecraft house, you would feel like a tyrant. Or the Barton's would make you feel clumsy. Feeling inadequate, are we?"
"We?" He guffawed, "You, never." Nichol felt the back of his neck warming, as if someone might overhear their conversation. Or overhear his feelings, if that were possible. Her reassurances coached his own brittle ego with confidence and something he feared might be love.
She smiled across at him again, in the past year his height and weight had put him at her eye level. Where before he'd always felt her junior, the new perspective was reminding him of the good fortune he might have. Keeping Une, of all women, by his side forever. A strong asset. A companion his equal if not more.
She knew that was what he wanted, and she took his elbow as they re-entered the main assembly room. The dance was just ending; however the string quartet played on.
"There you are, my lady." Interrupting their return was a voice, which had potential to grow into sultry power over the years. Nichol's brow pulled together, the angry expression understood in his case as a way of expression confusion. Anything unduly puzzling had the knack of moving Nichol to the brink of fury. Not necessarily beyond.
"Why, Mr. Kushrenada?" Une's fingers unwrapped from where Nichol tried to keep them between his arm and the side of his suit jacket. "Have you been looking for me?"
"Please, no apologies are necessary, I simply wanted to see you once more before retiring for the evening." Treize Kushrenada came from new money, was new to their circle, and enjoyed his father's success with no small pleasure. Well-dressed in the latest fashion and sporting a cape and dueling sword, his vanity appeared almost subconscious. The presentation was annoying to Nichol, who began at that point to watch Une exclusively.
"If you must retire, then good evening." Une replied curtly, tipping her head. She could feel Nichol's stare, not that it troubled her. As an only child, and given her social position, she was used to close observation.
Treize made a small bow. Then went the opposite way sharply, his cape billowing around the sword.
"What a pompous lout." Une chuckled, to Nichol's relief. In his most unselfish moment, a portion of Nichol's relief was that if he himself could not claim her, then she would not let herself be claimed by anyone, let alone anyone as pretentious as young Mr. Kushrenada.
***
The image of Treize continued to amuse Katerina Une as she brushed out her hair the next morning. The elegant person that she became at such parties as the Maxwells' had hosted was used to being pursued and adored. Some approached her like a delicate flower, as when she had been secretly courted by Lucrezia Noin. Others entertained her intellectual wit as had the young Master Barton. Each uniquely fascinating, and upon occasion flattering in their unrequited attentions.
Unlike when an intoxicated, impetuous Milliardo Peacecraft had pretended to have passed out when his face suspiciously fell into her low cut dress. Une's expression twisted into one of almost self-satisfaction as she remember how his injured, ashamed pride kept him in the farthest corner from her at every public gathering. He'd taken to walking on the far sides of streets and suddenly lost interested in the tutoring and extra classes they were used to taking together-dropping them altogether.
Not as if Une were the only attractive girl to gain attention. It was just that Une had the reputation of being a prize catch, given her social grace. And she was not unpretty. Not terribly vain, she did often wonder if others noticed their own noses as often as she did her own. But confidence took one farther than physical appearance.
Which was probably why she might have considered Nichol the closest companion she could claim. He dared to say he understood her, and while she was not one to make her feelings available, upon occasion, she did feel that he saw around her false eloquence. Because of his confidence in her.
After those thoughts, she had managed to tame her long hair and pull it back into her characteristic buns. Balancing her thin framed glasses on her nose, she was entering the new week as her academic self. Her private tutor came on Tuesdays and Thursdays to examine her progress for the week, but Une's diligence granted her as much instructional freedom as possible.
She excused herself from her parents who were still at the breakfast table and with her backpack secure between her shoulder, she claimed her bicycle from where it balanced behind the back stables. She could smell the aroma of horses and heard a familiar snort and call from the dark creature she called Leo. The name had amused her father so much that he'd nicknamed his most recent invention the same. "It's all about horsepower." He had snorted at his own joke, leaving his daughter more than a little puzzled. But she had laughed daintily, as expected.
Pedaling leisurely down the front drive to the gateway, Une nodded at the guard as he allowed her passage. The formal protections were simple nuisances. A mile ride would take her to the nearest town, then another fifteen minutes to the public library. She liked the luxury of time to herself. And the moderate spring weather granted her such opportunities for the time being.
She planned on continuing her studies through the summer until she left for the university. With her birthday in the summer, she was to attend Victoria University in the fall. A private school with astronomical professors and expenses, Une already knew who several of her classmates would be.
Lucrezia had been first to eagerly share the news. Holding Une's waist and whispering how exciting it would be to live in the same dorm, or to share even the same room. Being of similar age, Milliardo achieved his entrance on sports scholarship and name recognition. Victoria University, as part of a military base, held a small measure of leniency for those children of influential families who directing their careers to government positions and military command. Of new money, both brash Treize Kushrenada and scandalous Miss Po had received their acceptance letters. And Nichol. When she had at last questioned him, the casual shrug had lazily said both "of course" and "what did you expect?" at once.
His much appreciated confidence again. She laughed to herself, enjoying the brisk pace she could keep without yet breaking a sweat. The breeze was comforting, indicating that another winter would not come for some time.
At last crossing traffic, she locked her bicycle in the rack before the grand public library. It was rather unprecedented in size and quality given the large financial support that it received from the local aristocracy. Smelling of air-conditioned classics and faint lemon cleanliness, she passed the main desk and climbed the marble stairs to the second floor where she could study near a window. The squeaking sound of her sneakers against the cool hardness of the floor gained the attention of the patrons sitting quietly at the strategically placed tables and computer terminals.
As she smiled sheepishly in admission of guilt, their glares softened at her silent apology and everyone soon had returned to their research.
While striking at parties, Une dressed herself rather plainly for study and daily activities. And besides her Russian nose, she felt quite capable of blending into her everyday appearance of a seventeen year old student. Just one of her many transformations to juggle.
Following one of the rows of books to the wall, she selected the nearest solitary desk to settle her bag.
"That must weigh seventy pounds, what are you reading today?"
She recognized his voice immediately, and without acknowledging the irritation she might have felt initially, Une began removing the books one by one.
"Latin, Sociology, World Civilization, and a little Tolstoy for light reading in between." Each title being punctuated by the text's simultaneous addition to the tabletop.
"Tolstoy? Which translation?"
Une finally met his eyes, as Treize Kushrenada leaned against the upper shelf of the wooden study desk. His brown hair was already sun-bleached if that were possible, falling into his eyes a little. Making him also seem rather casual in contrast to the snobbery she was used to at their family gatherings.
"Hey, this is Russian." He took the book without permission and began turning the pages faster and faster as he realized he couldn't read any of them. "What secrets you keep, my lady."
She reached out for the book when it seemed he had finished with it, not promoting any further conversation between them. No one had persistently called her "lady" before and in her informal clothes and sneakers she wasn't certain what he meant by it. Reading his expression was simple enough. The way his mouth was just open, his tongue ready to respond to any of her own retorts. He was an arrogant bastard trying to actively engage her in petty games.
While it was something new. Une was not amused or interested. "My mother is Russian, I enjoy reading her native language upon occasion."
"Sure," Treize lifted his expressive brows, "But one does not read 'War and Peace' lightly. I finished it only after dedicating my every waking moment to its pages. I would not have imagined you trying it."
"Would not have imagined . . . ?" His suggestion unbalanced her. What had he intended of her? To read common science fiction like the Maxwells' or trite women's novels?
"My mistake, I see. Well, enjoy." He seemed tired of her company already and lifted one hand in farewell.
She bit back her instinct to call out, "Wait." Her competitive spirit awakened at his dismissal. Her fingers tightened, curling around the topmost book until the tips turned red and purple from the pressure of resistance. Releasing it suddenly, as he called back in a cheery-o voice, "Let me know if you manage to finish at some point. Or try 'Crime and Punishment' at least. I found that one insightful myself."
***
The sparring continued in unusual fashion. Treize gloating over some recent accomplishment. Any comment about Une being dismissed without consideration. His sudden attitude toward her was quite popular with their peers. Milliardo becoming nearly inseparable from the opportunity to chime in with his less sophisticated barbs.
At least Une was unthreatened by Milliardo. She had conquered him. She knew his boyish pride could be squashed with the smallest insult to his vulnerable character and identity. Pushing Milliardo into his place was easy enough. Milliardo had not yet learned to grow into his confidence and react effectively.
But to Treize she could make no comment. He never directly suggested that she was lacking, but the way he looked over her in every respect antagonized her to no end. She began to hate the silences in the room if were only the two of them. She hated the way that he could make Lucrezia laugh at his chauvinistic jokes. And she had never wanted or felt possessive of Lucrezia.
The only ally she sensed through the transitional months of the summer of course was Nichol.
"What the hell does he want from me, the egotistical prick?"
Nichol's eyes had widened in pleasure, indescribably delighted at the new intimacy that Une allowed him. Amused by the rapidly changing expressions altering her facial features. Almost as if each reaction then took on a distinct personality within her. "He's a bastard, and undeniably jealous of the attention that you earn without playing such sport with others."
Une didn't completely agree, but nodded. "He is a bastard. Truly. And we're going to have to endure years at university with him." Then a pleasant thought must have occurred to her, "Unless he reveals himself. Unless he reveals his true nature to them as I see it. How long before the others reject him then? How quickly?"
"Please, Une," Nichol was tired of the conversation constantly turning to his nemesis, "Don't envy his attention from the others. They aren't worth it."
"Envy?" Une seemed mystified by the possibility, "That isn't it. I just hate his falseness. How can they believe all these things he says about himself. Now he reads 'War and Peace' in Russian. He's becoming a Russian scholar. He's considering a career as an ambassador for the world federation and the possible space colonies. How fitting for someone who can do no wrong."
Enjoying every snap to her words, Nichol reminded her, "These are children he's impressing. Don't expect the professors to be as gullible." He rested his hand against her shoulder, a sign of support that Une didn't even seem to notice.
"But if I have to listen anymore to him talking about his ideals of how a perfect unit of soldiers could command the entire government from within," Une glared, "I will make him eat every word of that science fiction crap."
***
Of course, Nichol had been wrong about the professors. Before the first month of classes had complete, Treize had already become a faculty favorite. He charmed them with perfect answers to their questions. Satisfying each professor with tradition while amusing the student body with his appreciation of anarchy.
"It's a balance of both that achieves true power." Treize would say, not that anyone really understood him or his intentions behind such a phrase. What they loved was his amiable smile, approachable authority, and impeccable academics.
Une did well herself, although her courses of study were less mainstream. Where Treize had prescheduled his academic load for a position in highest military command, Une had taken a less conventional approach mingling a major of psychology and with warfare strategies.
"Professor Noventa asked me to see if you'd consider his proposed class, 'War of the Mind'?" Nichol crossed her path as they were planning to meet in the common dining hall. "I'd take it except it's at the same time as Spaceship Design and I need that to have enough credits in the weapons department."
"Isn't Dr. J teaching that?" Une recalled the nickname of one of campus' more infamous instructors.
"It's required," Nichol began to complain, "Do you think I'm taking this by choice?"
"You could skip out by taking that Chains of Command history class Dr. Catalonia teaches." Une suggested, then laughed as he glowered. "Don't get mad, Nikolai. I know that man irritates you."
"Mildly." His eyes darkening with dislike, "And have you met that prissy daughter of his? Following around on his suit tails. Thinks she's the next Napoleon and he *encourages* it."
"Some daughters love their fathers, well, excessively." Une said thoughtfully, remembering the girl who was tall for her age, with childishly long blonde hair. The child, Dorothy, had been quite smitten with Treize in a study group that had met at the professor's house. Another victory for Treize. She stiffened.
"Chains of Command?" It was his voice, somehow, Treize himself had come up behind them on the sidewalk. Nichol began to scowl darkly. Une started to walk faster herself, all of this Treize overlooked, continuing to comment, "Don't tell me you're taking that class lady? It's not like you need another weapons class after you took Future of Mobile Suits."
"Don't butt in on conversations you know nothing about," Nichol hissed through his teeth with unveiled dislike. Even his coiled curls which normally sat so tight against his scalp were quivering.
"You're quite right. There is no need for me to take Chains of Command." Une felt her emotions going cold. The control she normally felt seemed to slip farther and farther away each time she mentioned or met Treize. At first it was anger, and now . . . an inexplicable emptiness.
"Going to dinner?" Treize asked, he was keeping pace well enough with his longer legs. He was dressed quite nicely, but without the cape and rapier from their family parties. When she glanced at him from the corner of her eye, around the glasses that she wore almost every day at the school, she caught a peculiar grin on his lips. One almost delighted.
"She's eating with me," Nichol spat, becoming more and more disagreeable the longer Treize lingered. It was bad enough that Une would spend the rest of the dinner complaining about the man. He need not join them actually.
"Too bad." Treize replied lightly. Once in the dining hall, the unwanted companion found a distraction in young Dorothy Catalonia who was eating alone at one of the front tables. He slid into the chair next to her and leaned forward. Whatever he was saying made her smile quickly, then hesitate as if fearful he were teasing her. Apparently, he was sincere since Dorothy's thin shoulders relaxed and her overgrown and underdeveloped girl's body openly relaxed.
"What a snake." Nichol grumbled as they took plates and examined the selection for the evening's meal.
For the first time, watching Dorothy laugh and begin to chat eagerly, Une doubted.
***
Over the Christmas holiday, Une spent most of her evening pouring over the advance reading list for her new semester's worth of classes. She already planned on taking classes over the summer at a branch of Victoria University in Corsica.
The only evening she ventured out was Christmas Eve, a comfortable gathering usually at the Bartons. They were a pillar of the town, old money, and very good people. Their oldest daughter had been friendly to Une letting her respond in kind. Catherine had not pursued academics, but had agreed to the proposal offered to her by Philip Walker who was one of Une's classmates. The party was partial in congratulations to their coming wedding. It unnerved Une slightly that her peers might get married, even though she understood her parents and most of theirs had been married at such young ages also. She had planned to do much before accepting any proposal. Not that she had met anyone who she would agree to.
"Is your sister happy, Trowa?" Une asked the Barton's youngest child. A straightforward and bright boy, Trowa spoke much better than his fourteen years. Which was why she had not laughed at his declarations of love the year before. His infatuation had grown into a shared mutual affection. He could have been her own younger brother.
"Walker is a good man." Trowa nodded, veiling his opinion with simple facts. "Although you might have heard that he's moving to the Corsica location as a permanent student there."
"Catherine will go with him then." Une acknowledged Trowa's fear. As siblings would go, Catherine and Trowa had always been unnaturally close. Almost seeming to have the ability to read each others thoughts, or at least having incredible trust in the other.
Trowa drooped his chin, she was right. The boy was quite heartbroken, but his eyes showed none of it.
"Then Catherine will have to have you visit her soon and often." Une said, indirectly. Comforting in the only way he might accept it. "Walker is a good man. That goes even without saying. But Catherine will also need your assistance in moving her things after the honeymoon."
"I could help." Trowa's eyes searched the crowds, finding his sister who's red-brown curls were vibrating above her cream shoulders. The source of her laughter at first seemed to be her uniformed fiancé. Walker was holding both of their drinks. But just beyond the grinning Walker was the broad shouldered, darkly modern suit undeniably characteristic of Treize.
And indeed, it was him. He toasted them with his own glass.
"There you are." Nichol appeared, "I've only just arrived. My mother and yours have this idea I should go to Corsica this summer as well. But I had my heart set on going to America with my father. What do you think?"
Une hardly heard him. "Nichol, later." She dismissed herself absently, and walked up to Catherine.
"Cathy, Philip." Une let the smile demurely stretch her cheeks and sparkle in her eyes. "Congratulations."
"One would almost think you were happy, lady." Treize spoke before Catherine could reply. The other woman glanced between them. First at Une, then Treize and back to Une. "But wouldn't everyone agree that you are the role model for independent and single women everywhere?"
"I would say that Miss Une is very accomplished," She didn't know Philip Walker that well but decided he must be a good man to speak up for her. Catherine without a doubt knew when to keep a good one.
"Accomplishments of the academic world have very little use if one does not have the backbone to follow through on those ideals," His eyes met hers in undeniable challenge. She fought back, keeping his gaze without blinking. Then, as suddenly as the threatening words began, he eloquently glossed them over. "Which is why I'm determined to infiltrate the powerful figures in our current society. The voices of the people need to be heard and recognized. No change will take place without sacrifice. And I will see that the sacrifice brings great change."
Catherine wavered, as if uncertain if she understood correctly what she had heard, "Victoria University does train the next generation of soldiers and world leaders. I'm sure both you and Miss Une are doing very well." Her eyes sought out Walker instinctively.
Walker nodded, "That is why I am there. To guarantee security for future generations." The newly engaged couple shared a bashful smile.
***
During the course of the party, Treize danced with Lucrezia who then was handed over to Milliardo. Sally Po, who had left Victoria University mid- semester to enter medical school, danced with him for the better part of the evening. She was an ambitious girl who had manipulated her parents well, by obeying their request to go to the University, then using the power of the professors to support her desire for medical learning. Her parents practically believed that was where they had meant to send her all along. It was hard to miss them as they beamed her direction at all times. More proud of their daughter than anything.
Une and Nichol had raided the Barton's now long familiar family stock of whiskey. Simply tasting a few of the different bottles. Her heart was not in it, and she didn't want to smell of it in front of anyone else. Let alone Treize.
Nichol knew she was distracted. He most likely also knew why, but wisely kept his own council. Before long they were back in the main room watching Catherine and Philip Walker start the last dance alone. Slowly, more couples joined them. Surprisingly enough, one of the first was Milliardo and Lucrezia. The way he held her with such insecurity impacted Une's perspective of them strongly. For all of their imperfections, perhaps the two of them were finally exploring something with a possibility. One that might engage a new and mutual respect.
"Lady, have you not danced tonight at all?" Treize leaned in from behind, between her face and that of Nichol who stood beside her. "I'm sorry if your gentleman has let you down, once again."
Nichol's ears were immediately purple, as he must have held his breath in rage. But just as immediately, Treize had taken his hand to the small of Une's back and propelled her to the floor, grasping her other wrist and holding her in the imitation of two people dancing.
"Why?" Une felt her heart pound, but maintained a degree of control in her tone regardless. "Why do you call me a lady if you won't treat me like one?"
His grip on her wrist slipped and instead he had her fingers more gently caught. His other shoulder relaxed his hold just above her skirt. His eyes, which she studied fearlessly, flashed something almost of an apology. Nothing, however, was said.
If Treize were to be honest with himself at that point, he was terrified of Ekaterina Une more than any other woman he had met. She was of more simple beauty, but her spirit was more influential than any other he had come across. When she focused her entire soul and attention on one person, he could feel her power over them. Even Nichol, who loved her with pathetic abandon, also hated her control over him. With not a word, she had commanded him to stay along the wall. Not to interfere. Although, Treize had no doubt, that if she called him to interrupt, Nichol would come without question.
Treize's own desire was split. Half wanted to possess her, and half wanted to destroy her. She would become either an ally or an enemy, depending on how her spirit chose. And that spirit, like any woman's, he believed could be dictated by the fancy of her heart. So while he instinctively took her by force, he knew he could never keep her that way. If that was what he wanted.
When he never answered her question, she tried again. "What do you want?"
With a question so close to his thoughts, he answered naturally, "I want to be the individual to instigate the change necessary to bring this world to peace."
Une raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "I've heard you say that before. And while I see you manipulate everyone else to your side, don't forget that I am witnessing everything." His expression softened with each word.
"I want to kiss you, lady." He admitted leaning so that the words were breathed into her loose hair. "You make me weak, like no one else has."
She had others offer her love before. Lucrezia's affection, Milliardo's boyish lust, Trowa's admiration. Nichol's consistency.
But she'd never felt such shared desire and loss of control. He irritated her because of his power. From his words, did she make him feel that way also? She echoed the phrase, finding in it a reciprocated confession.
And, in front of everyone, they came to an understanding of each other. Nothing more was said. When the dance ended, Treize turned away. They had given each other nothing. But shared secrets and unfulfilled desires. No promises.
***
For appearances, nothing changed. But as Treize rose in esteem, she found herself keeping watch. Analyzing his strengths, being aware of his shortcomings. Studying Treize as much as her own class work. And for all of his confessions, he held her out farther than arm's length. As strangers.
Nichol, of course, reveled in having Une to himself once more. She played his game and his contentment settled into reassured joy. He neither proposed nor obligated her to any commitment. Not that she would have known how to address either. But the confidence she gave him propelled Nichol past needed those assurances. Once again, she controlled their relationship.
If anything, he became a kind person. And as cruel as she felt for not reciprocating the new truth of his feelings, she deceived herself that perhaps the sin of neglect might benefit Nichol in the end.
Her dreams, her work, her life became entangled with polishing Treize's ideals published in the school paper. Imagining how they might be realized. How he might succeed. But only if she were on his side. Of course, she was his weakness. As he had said.
She was the only one who could betray him. Or support him.
***
"I'm very happy, and, someday, you will be just as happy." Catherine was entertaining Une on her first visit to Corsica. She and Philip had moved there just the month before. Une's classes were to begin in mid-July. They were enjoying the Mediterranean sunshine from the white stone porch of the newlywed Walkers' apartment.
"I don't see myself ever being as pleased as Philip Walker has obviously made you, Cathy." Une said kindly, breathing in deep the aroma of the near water. The breeze threatening to untangle her braids.
She had never gone so long without seeing or at least reading about Treize. While he was well-known on the main campus, they had only finished their first year. Treize had gone to stay with Dr. Catalonia for the summer to study politics more specifically. Dr. Catalonia's father, Dorothy's grandfather, was a prominent figure in the current power circles. Une knew that meeting the older Catalonia would put Treize in a position to advance quickly within weeks of his final graduation from the Academy. If he didn't graduate sooner, Treize had already enough credits to make him a first semester Junior.
"You are too modest," Catherine chuckled, smiling ear to ear. "We've all seen the way Nikolai holds you in such high regard. You're future in secured."
Secured? Une continued to participate while the conversation went elsewhere, but her thoughts were constantly returning to the one man who made her weak.
***
After an entire summer on the entire island, Une found Victoria University surprisingly small. Her classes had expanded her skill within the ranks of the military. Bonaparte, positioned to be an Admiral in the next few years, had affectionately called her Colonel in the last weeks Writing to her parents, she explained that the understanding of strategies and minds had earned her promises of a command rank in the future.. News of her achievements reached the mainland before her letter did.
The only one more talked about than herself had been Treize. He had gotten along famously with Catalonia and his party of fellow politicians. After reaching an agreement with the school, Treize was going to graduate after finished just one more semester at the university then taking the remainder of his credits through tutors while being directly patroned by the older Catalonia.
It was almost as if each of their achievements would be mirrored by the other. Bringing them to a point where they would inevitably be together.
But they had never spoken, never been remotely alone together as they had at the Christmas party. His age filled him well physically, and she found herself being attracted to the softer chin. The intelligent shine of his eyes. The witty way he could manipulate words. It was almost as if he needed nothing.
Except, she felt, she knew. He had told her. He needed her.
Passing over offers to spend each holiday at home or abroad with one family or another, Une isolated herself. In effort to advance her own studies, to surpass her academic year and bring her own credits to an earlier graduation.
"I'm impressed," Nichol had studied her schedule when he returned for the January of his second year. "At this rate you'll be the second member of our initial class to earn enough credits to leave early. Of course, we all know that glamour hog Treize has already positioned himself to be the youngest member of the inner circles in government." Nichol watched her eat a moment, feeling a flicker of concern. He adored her abilities, but felt a bit frightened by them. He respected her too much to ask her why she wanted to leave so quickly. Not that leaving him behind disturbed his confidence in their future together. No one knew him better than Une, and he was certain no one knew her better than himself. Trying to make her smile, he snorted in mirth, "With both of you out of our immediate class I guess that means that Luce and Milliardo are going to have to duke it out for top spot."
As expected, Une smiled for him. Just a little, and that was all.
***
But as much as she might control them, Une could not completely ignore her emotions forever. Her desire to speak with him. To see if he ever meant those words he said that night. The words of his own desire. His desire for her.
She could not tell from such proximity. So she sought him out.
The eve of his graduation, Une found Treize walking through the campus. From the direction of the main campus toward the movements of the lake's water, mostly black but flickering with moonlight. The lake Victoria for which the campus was named.
He knew she was there. Stopping at last to put his hands into the pockets of his dress pants.
"You have your hair down tonight. It reminds me of when we danced." He spoke without needing to look or confirm who she was. "I was vulnerable to you then. Vulnerable to that guileless charm."
"Treize?" She asked, uncertain what he was thinking. All of her training, all of her observations, all of her efforts to analyze and strategize. Nothing could allow her access to his heart. The one thing she always failed to grasp.
"You say my name." He suddenly had closed the gap between them. Darkness still separating them with shadows. "Damn, if I don't sink into those unguarded eyes of yours and I'm lost." His words became bitter, "I can't do anything. Can't achieve anything if I don't build a barrier between us. I won't let you make me reconsider. I already know what love is without you."
He immediately knew why she had come.
And she panicked at his response.
"You won't love me?" The regret consumed her. The abandonment unexpected. Why was he reacting this way? Didn't he say she made him weak? Was that why? How could she make him strong? Confident? Anything to give her the opportunity. To become what he wanted.
"Still I want you to come away with me. Your graduation is affirmed. No one else could be my most loyal soldier." Treize whispered, still denying her access to that kiss as their faces were close. Denying her answers to the questions he was unable to answer. The only weakness he feared. Instead, stoking her hair idly, His hand then barely brushing back her bangs. Awkwardly, next, trying to reach the end of her long hair. "I also remember admiring your hair when you used the rose colored ribbons."
"Choose." Une spat impatient, frightened by what she was allowing him. "Tell me which you want. Which is it? Do you want a lady or a soldier? I can't tell. You will have to tell me."
Treize still held her shoulder, surprisingly strong even though he wore the clothes of a pampered individual. She could have broken free. He knew of her training in Corsica which involved to some degree hand to hand combat. The fierceness in her eyes frightened him a bit. It was a power that could stop his heart. Or, if used, could fuel his dreams. If he knew what those dreams were. He had dreamed of taking her lips. Just as this was offered, he knew he had dreamed more of his own power. Her offer would only make him weak.
Weak or alone?
Which would he regret more?
Why couldn't he have both?
"Become my colonel." He said, chilling her with each word as he unknowingly awakened her talent. "Why can't you feel this same way for my cause? Support me. Please always stay with me."
While she heard his words, breaking her spirit. Reshaping her. Destroying a part with his rejection. Forging another with his request. The whispers of hope he harbored in his doubt were a breathed undercurrent. Locking away the injury. Perhaps later she might return to those wounds and bleed once more. There would always be duty. If she could forget about love.
But the fleeting recollection passed as a dream upon waking.
He had said, no one understood him or recognized his plan. With her at his side, he could accomplish his own faction to upset the Federation. She had every ability at her disposal to promote, defend and protect her Lord Treize. And she would do whatever needed to be done to perform her duty.
There would always be duty.
***
"I came as soon as I heard," Nichol breathed heavily, not looking at her.
When she didn't give him any reassurances, he felt his stomach twist. She watched him coolly, blocking him any further access.
"He wants to use you. He will not love you. He will not take you as his wife!" Nichol cried, spilling out each phrase over the next. She knew them to be truth and not simple desperation. But she did not care. After announcing her new position under Treize's direct supervision, immediately promoted Colonel Une had been ordered to join his entourage to act as the military's strategic presence.
Meeting that morning at the Lake Victoria Airbase, porters were taking Treize's personal luggage and the supplies of his crew and position to a waiting air craft. Une was indirectly overseeing the premises. Since Nichol was acting like an agitated individual near a prestigious politician's point of transportation, Une was obligated to confront her childhood friend. But friendship meant little, even if he said his concern had nothing to do with Treize. Only with her.
She, on the other hand, wanted more than anything to be influential and important in Treize's life. His only.
"You won't understand, Nichol." She still used the name of endearment, but her voice was strict and low. Unlike any other voice he'd heard her use before. "But if this gives you any perspective: I will not abandon Treize just as you will not abandon me. I serve him, just as you serve me."
Nichol flinched, "You always have had me. Always, and this . . . you won't listen to me?" His chiseled features, so unlike the softness Treize presented, paled.
"Being a soldier means understanding the chains of command." Une's eyes narrowed. "I expect you to recognize them. Or learn them."
She left to join the rest of Treize's public party, following as his silent observer. Protecter. Unfulfilled lover.
Broken, but finding his emotions suddenly unchained, Nichol almost laughed. He had loved, he had followed her, but now he was free. Unlike Treize's lady, no, Treize's colonel. Now she would never be liberated. Not as long as Treize lived. But war had a funny way of destroying its leaders. And if Nichol were to bide his time.
There would always be revenge. He would do anything, if he could forget about love.
He was free except . . .
If he could only stop loving *her*.
The end.
( ~deep breath~ I needed a chance to write something a bit unordinary. I see this as a complete story since my purpose was primarily to explore the causes/source of their complicated triangle, Une's downfall (why did she have to follow Treize like a puppy!?) and to make Nichol a more poignant participant. I couldn't tie it into the Gundam Wing series or point you to the anime for a resolution or outcome. Some similar conclusion will come to Une, Treize and Nichol since they are parallel stories, but not exactly of course.)
***
(Disclaimer: I needed to take a break from Some Half-Baked Ideal Called Wonderful and thought I'd write something pretty off the wall for me. This is a Gundam, Alternate Reality fic about Une and her early relationships with Treize and Nichol. Some elements may be similar to the series, but for the most part it'll be a completely separate and different tale to suit my purposes. With their young ages also comes quite a bit of immaturity different from their developed character in series.)
***
Her name was Ekaterina Mikhailovna Une. A name to honor her maternal history, a lineage of Russian pride and dignity. Her father had affectionately called her Katenka. Kitty was the name her mother used in gentle moments. Grandpapa, when holding her on his knee, matching the weathered print with the measure of her smaller white fingers, called her Katia. Classmates, teachers named her Katerina.
So many names. Some familiar, some less so. The identities each assigning her a certain temperament, ascribed an expected behavior. Shaping her response. It was a game she played with more than a little ease. Performing was simple enough. To absorb whatever they anticipated and supplying the appropriate response. The only surprise she caused was that of an individual finding that they were right. As if following a script, she was everything they expected. Seventeen and already dancing the sophisticated circles of the elite.
She was the pride of her family.
The first individual who called her Une was the son of her mother's friend, Nikolai Fyodorovich Veslovsky. He was a sturdy lad with wiry, dark hair and manly burns stretched before his ears along sharp cheek bones. Nichol amused himself by watching Une charm others. All the while appreciating how she would share her honest opinions with him in the next room. Swirling the drink she managed to sneak from the elegant cupboards of the home's owner. Taking a fast swallow, then gossiping about how the Peacecrafts were losing the ability to hide their family skeletons. Of how the Po's daughter was far from still being an unspoiled bride. Une told him everything that he expected.
She treated him no differently than the others.
That night, Nichol had begun to feel the effects of the harder liquor himself. In a few minutes their absence would be noticed, he sat in the desk seat and was waiting until the dizzying buzz left the space between his ears. Une was browsing the books.
"I'd imagine that none of the Maxwells have actually read any of these." She said smartly, leaning forward so that her hands were balancing against her knees. Fingers entwined in the ample fabrics of her skirt. Nichol was used to seeing her in riding pants most days, so the more elegant robes of these dinner parties transformed her significantly. Her hair, rather than tied back into two coiled braids, spun around her bare shoulders. Those moments reminded him that she was different from himself: she was a woman. Or nearly so. "Perhaps one," This time she did look back as she pointed.
"What is that?" Nichol put his arms against the wooden rests on either side and made to lift himself up.
"War of the Worlds," she laughed lightly to herself, "Listening to them talk about wars and space and . . . sounds like that family has taken the story to heart." She turned around to face him as he began to walk toward the door back to the hallway. Back to the entertainment and the crowds.
Nichol smiled at her expression, one that seemed almost genuine as her caramel eyes sparkled. She seemed so harmless when she left her reading glasses at home.. Nichol knew better than to see her as innocent. Nevertheless, as much as he felt he knew her, the twinkle in her eye still felt mischievously directed at everyone and himself.
They maneuvered through the corridors. While their families clung to tradition and appearance, no one would question why they had slipped away for the better part of the last hour. With the busy atmosphere at formal dances, one could easily get misplaced.
The family portraits' dust covered eyes peered at the twosome through the shadows. Since this was the Maxwell home, more often than not, the images were separated by a crucifix or some replication of Catholic iconography. The individual portraits themselves seemed to be of saints, some with undisguised similarity to more famous church pictures or unsubtle haloes of light crowning their heads.
Nichol commented, "This house always makes me feel like a sinner."
"Please," Une dismissed his comment. "And if we were in the Peacecraft house, you would feel like a tyrant. Or the Barton's would make you feel clumsy. Feeling inadequate, are we?"
"We?" He guffawed, "You, never." Nichol felt the back of his neck warming, as if someone might overhear their conversation. Or overhear his feelings, if that were possible. Her reassurances coached his own brittle ego with confidence and something he feared might be love.
She smiled across at him again, in the past year his height and weight had put him at her eye level. Where before he'd always felt her junior, the new perspective was reminding him of the good fortune he might have. Keeping Une, of all women, by his side forever. A strong asset. A companion his equal if not more.
She knew that was what he wanted, and she took his elbow as they re-entered the main assembly room. The dance was just ending; however the string quartet played on.
"There you are, my lady." Interrupting their return was a voice, which had potential to grow into sultry power over the years. Nichol's brow pulled together, the angry expression understood in his case as a way of expression confusion. Anything unduly puzzling had the knack of moving Nichol to the brink of fury. Not necessarily beyond.
"Why, Mr. Kushrenada?" Une's fingers unwrapped from where Nichol tried to keep them between his arm and the side of his suit jacket. "Have you been looking for me?"
"Please, no apologies are necessary, I simply wanted to see you once more before retiring for the evening." Treize Kushrenada came from new money, was new to their circle, and enjoyed his father's success with no small pleasure. Well-dressed in the latest fashion and sporting a cape and dueling sword, his vanity appeared almost subconscious. The presentation was annoying to Nichol, who began at that point to watch Une exclusively.
"If you must retire, then good evening." Une replied curtly, tipping her head. She could feel Nichol's stare, not that it troubled her. As an only child, and given her social position, she was used to close observation.
Treize made a small bow. Then went the opposite way sharply, his cape billowing around the sword.
"What a pompous lout." Une chuckled, to Nichol's relief. In his most unselfish moment, a portion of Nichol's relief was that if he himself could not claim her, then she would not let herself be claimed by anyone, let alone anyone as pretentious as young Mr. Kushrenada.
***
The image of Treize continued to amuse Katerina Une as she brushed out her hair the next morning. The elegant person that she became at such parties as the Maxwells' had hosted was used to being pursued and adored. Some approached her like a delicate flower, as when she had been secretly courted by Lucrezia Noin. Others entertained her intellectual wit as had the young Master Barton. Each uniquely fascinating, and upon occasion flattering in their unrequited attentions.
Unlike when an intoxicated, impetuous Milliardo Peacecraft had pretended to have passed out when his face suspiciously fell into her low cut dress. Une's expression twisted into one of almost self-satisfaction as she remember how his injured, ashamed pride kept him in the farthest corner from her at every public gathering. He'd taken to walking on the far sides of streets and suddenly lost interested in the tutoring and extra classes they were used to taking together-dropping them altogether.
Not as if Une were the only attractive girl to gain attention. It was just that Une had the reputation of being a prize catch, given her social grace. And she was not unpretty. Not terribly vain, she did often wonder if others noticed their own noses as often as she did her own. But confidence took one farther than physical appearance.
Which was probably why she might have considered Nichol the closest companion she could claim. He dared to say he understood her, and while she was not one to make her feelings available, upon occasion, she did feel that he saw around her false eloquence. Because of his confidence in her.
After those thoughts, she had managed to tame her long hair and pull it back into her characteristic buns. Balancing her thin framed glasses on her nose, she was entering the new week as her academic self. Her private tutor came on Tuesdays and Thursdays to examine her progress for the week, but Une's diligence granted her as much instructional freedom as possible.
She excused herself from her parents who were still at the breakfast table and with her backpack secure between her shoulder, she claimed her bicycle from where it balanced behind the back stables. She could smell the aroma of horses and heard a familiar snort and call from the dark creature she called Leo. The name had amused her father so much that he'd nicknamed his most recent invention the same. "It's all about horsepower." He had snorted at his own joke, leaving his daughter more than a little puzzled. But she had laughed daintily, as expected.
Pedaling leisurely down the front drive to the gateway, Une nodded at the guard as he allowed her passage. The formal protections were simple nuisances. A mile ride would take her to the nearest town, then another fifteen minutes to the public library. She liked the luxury of time to herself. And the moderate spring weather granted her such opportunities for the time being.
She planned on continuing her studies through the summer until she left for the university. With her birthday in the summer, she was to attend Victoria University in the fall. A private school with astronomical professors and expenses, Une already knew who several of her classmates would be.
Lucrezia had been first to eagerly share the news. Holding Une's waist and whispering how exciting it would be to live in the same dorm, or to share even the same room. Being of similar age, Milliardo achieved his entrance on sports scholarship and name recognition. Victoria University, as part of a military base, held a small measure of leniency for those children of influential families who directing their careers to government positions and military command. Of new money, both brash Treize Kushrenada and scandalous Miss Po had received their acceptance letters. And Nichol. When she had at last questioned him, the casual shrug had lazily said both "of course" and "what did you expect?" at once.
His much appreciated confidence again. She laughed to herself, enjoying the brisk pace she could keep without yet breaking a sweat. The breeze was comforting, indicating that another winter would not come for some time.
At last crossing traffic, she locked her bicycle in the rack before the grand public library. It was rather unprecedented in size and quality given the large financial support that it received from the local aristocracy. Smelling of air-conditioned classics and faint lemon cleanliness, she passed the main desk and climbed the marble stairs to the second floor where she could study near a window. The squeaking sound of her sneakers against the cool hardness of the floor gained the attention of the patrons sitting quietly at the strategically placed tables and computer terminals.
As she smiled sheepishly in admission of guilt, their glares softened at her silent apology and everyone soon had returned to their research.
While striking at parties, Une dressed herself rather plainly for study and daily activities. And besides her Russian nose, she felt quite capable of blending into her everyday appearance of a seventeen year old student. Just one of her many transformations to juggle.
Following one of the rows of books to the wall, she selected the nearest solitary desk to settle her bag.
"That must weigh seventy pounds, what are you reading today?"
She recognized his voice immediately, and without acknowledging the irritation she might have felt initially, Une began removing the books one by one.
"Latin, Sociology, World Civilization, and a little Tolstoy for light reading in between." Each title being punctuated by the text's simultaneous addition to the tabletop.
"Tolstoy? Which translation?"
Une finally met his eyes, as Treize Kushrenada leaned against the upper shelf of the wooden study desk. His brown hair was already sun-bleached if that were possible, falling into his eyes a little. Making him also seem rather casual in contrast to the snobbery she was used to at their family gatherings.
"Hey, this is Russian." He took the book without permission and began turning the pages faster and faster as he realized he couldn't read any of them. "What secrets you keep, my lady."
She reached out for the book when it seemed he had finished with it, not promoting any further conversation between them. No one had persistently called her "lady" before and in her informal clothes and sneakers she wasn't certain what he meant by it. Reading his expression was simple enough. The way his mouth was just open, his tongue ready to respond to any of her own retorts. He was an arrogant bastard trying to actively engage her in petty games.
While it was something new. Une was not amused or interested. "My mother is Russian, I enjoy reading her native language upon occasion."
"Sure," Treize lifted his expressive brows, "But one does not read 'War and Peace' lightly. I finished it only after dedicating my every waking moment to its pages. I would not have imagined you trying it."
"Would not have imagined . . . ?" His suggestion unbalanced her. What had he intended of her? To read common science fiction like the Maxwells' or trite women's novels?
"My mistake, I see. Well, enjoy." He seemed tired of her company already and lifted one hand in farewell.
She bit back her instinct to call out, "Wait." Her competitive spirit awakened at his dismissal. Her fingers tightened, curling around the topmost book until the tips turned red and purple from the pressure of resistance. Releasing it suddenly, as he called back in a cheery-o voice, "Let me know if you manage to finish at some point. Or try 'Crime and Punishment' at least. I found that one insightful myself."
***
The sparring continued in unusual fashion. Treize gloating over some recent accomplishment. Any comment about Une being dismissed without consideration. His sudden attitude toward her was quite popular with their peers. Milliardo becoming nearly inseparable from the opportunity to chime in with his less sophisticated barbs.
At least Une was unthreatened by Milliardo. She had conquered him. She knew his boyish pride could be squashed with the smallest insult to his vulnerable character and identity. Pushing Milliardo into his place was easy enough. Milliardo had not yet learned to grow into his confidence and react effectively.
But to Treize she could make no comment. He never directly suggested that she was lacking, but the way he looked over her in every respect antagonized her to no end. She began to hate the silences in the room if were only the two of them. She hated the way that he could make Lucrezia laugh at his chauvinistic jokes. And she had never wanted or felt possessive of Lucrezia.
The only ally she sensed through the transitional months of the summer of course was Nichol.
"What the hell does he want from me, the egotistical prick?"
Nichol's eyes had widened in pleasure, indescribably delighted at the new intimacy that Une allowed him. Amused by the rapidly changing expressions altering her facial features. Almost as if each reaction then took on a distinct personality within her. "He's a bastard, and undeniably jealous of the attention that you earn without playing such sport with others."
Une didn't completely agree, but nodded. "He is a bastard. Truly. And we're going to have to endure years at university with him." Then a pleasant thought must have occurred to her, "Unless he reveals himself. Unless he reveals his true nature to them as I see it. How long before the others reject him then? How quickly?"
"Please, Une," Nichol was tired of the conversation constantly turning to his nemesis, "Don't envy his attention from the others. They aren't worth it."
"Envy?" Une seemed mystified by the possibility, "That isn't it. I just hate his falseness. How can they believe all these things he says about himself. Now he reads 'War and Peace' in Russian. He's becoming a Russian scholar. He's considering a career as an ambassador for the world federation and the possible space colonies. How fitting for someone who can do no wrong."
Enjoying every snap to her words, Nichol reminded her, "These are children he's impressing. Don't expect the professors to be as gullible." He rested his hand against her shoulder, a sign of support that Une didn't even seem to notice.
"But if I have to listen anymore to him talking about his ideals of how a perfect unit of soldiers could command the entire government from within," Une glared, "I will make him eat every word of that science fiction crap."
***
Of course, Nichol had been wrong about the professors. Before the first month of classes had complete, Treize had already become a faculty favorite. He charmed them with perfect answers to their questions. Satisfying each professor with tradition while amusing the student body with his appreciation of anarchy.
"It's a balance of both that achieves true power." Treize would say, not that anyone really understood him or his intentions behind such a phrase. What they loved was his amiable smile, approachable authority, and impeccable academics.
Une did well herself, although her courses of study were less mainstream. Where Treize had prescheduled his academic load for a position in highest military command, Une had taken a less conventional approach mingling a major of psychology and with warfare strategies.
"Professor Noventa asked me to see if you'd consider his proposed class, 'War of the Mind'?" Nichol crossed her path as they were planning to meet in the common dining hall. "I'd take it except it's at the same time as Spaceship Design and I need that to have enough credits in the weapons department."
"Isn't Dr. J teaching that?" Une recalled the nickname of one of campus' more infamous instructors.
"It's required," Nichol began to complain, "Do you think I'm taking this by choice?"
"You could skip out by taking that Chains of Command history class Dr. Catalonia teaches." Une suggested, then laughed as he glowered. "Don't get mad, Nikolai. I know that man irritates you."
"Mildly." His eyes darkening with dislike, "And have you met that prissy daughter of his? Following around on his suit tails. Thinks she's the next Napoleon and he *encourages* it."
"Some daughters love their fathers, well, excessively." Une said thoughtfully, remembering the girl who was tall for her age, with childishly long blonde hair. The child, Dorothy, had been quite smitten with Treize in a study group that had met at the professor's house. Another victory for Treize. She stiffened.
"Chains of Command?" It was his voice, somehow, Treize himself had come up behind them on the sidewalk. Nichol began to scowl darkly. Une started to walk faster herself, all of this Treize overlooked, continuing to comment, "Don't tell me you're taking that class lady? It's not like you need another weapons class after you took Future of Mobile Suits."
"Don't butt in on conversations you know nothing about," Nichol hissed through his teeth with unveiled dislike. Even his coiled curls which normally sat so tight against his scalp were quivering.
"You're quite right. There is no need for me to take Chains of Command." Une felt her emotions going cold. The control she normally felt seemed to slip farther and farther away each time she mentioned or met Treize. At first it was anger, and now . . . an inexplicable emptiness.
"Going to dinner?" Treize asked, he was keeping pace well enough with his longer legs. He was dressed quite nicely, but without the cape and rapier from their family parties. When she glanced at him from the corner of her eye, around the glasses that she wore almost every day at the school, she caught a peculiar grin on his lips. One almost delighted.
"She's eating with me," Nichol spat, becoming more and more disagreeable the longer Treize lingered. It was bad enough that Une would spend the rest of the dinner complaining about the man. He need not join them actually.
"Too bad." Treize replied lightly. Once in the dining hall, the unwanted companion found a distraction in young Dorothy Catalonia who was eating alone at one of the front tables. He slid into the chair next to her and leaned forward. Whatever he was saying made her smile quickly, then hesitate as if fearful he were teasing her. Apparently, he was sincere since Dorothy's thin shoulders relaxed and her overgrown and underdeveloped girl's body openly relaxed.
"What a snake." Nichol grumbled as they took plates and examined the selection for the evening's meal.
For the first time, watching Dorothy laugh and begin to chat eagerly, Une doubted.
***
Over the Christmas holiday, Une spent most of her evening pouring over the advance reading list for her new semester's worth of classes. She already planned on taking classes over the summer at a branch of Victoria University in Corsica.
The only evening she ventured out was Christmas Eve, a comfortable gathering usually at the Bartons. They were a pillar of the town, old money, and very good people. Their oldest daughter had been friendly to Une letting her respond in kind. Catherine had not pursued academics, but had agreed to the proposal offered to her by Philip Walker who was one of Une's classmates. The party was partial in congratulations to their coming wedding. It unnerved Une slightly that her peers might get married, even though she understood her parents and most of theirs had been married at such young ages also. She had planned to do much before accepting any proposal. Not that she had met anyone who she would agree to.
"Is your sister happy, Trowa?" Une asked the Barton's youngest child. A straightforward and bright boy, Trowa spoke much better than his fourteen years. Which was why she had not laughed at his declarations of love the year before. His infatuation had grown into a shared mutual affection. He could have been her own younger brother.
"Walker is a good man." Trowa nodded, veiling his opinion with simple facts. "Although you might have heard that he's moving to the Corsica location as a permanent student there."
"Catherine will go with him then." Une acknowledged Trowa's fear. As siblings would go, Catherine and Trowa had always been unnaturally close. Almost seeming to have the ability to read each others thoughts, or at least having incredible trust in the other.
Trowa drooped his chin, she was right. The boy was quite heartbroken, but his eyes showed none of it.
"Then Catherine will have to have you visit her soon and often." Une said, indirectly. Comforting in the only way he might accept it. "Walker is a good man. That goes even without saying. But Catherine will also need your assistance in moving her things after the honeymoon."
"I could help." Trowa's eyes searched the crowds, finding his sister who's red-brown curls were vibrating above her cream shoulders. The source of her laughter at first seemed to be her uniformed fiancé. Walker was holding both of their drinks. But just beyond the grinning Walker was the broad shouldered, darkly modern suit undeniably characteristic of Treize.
And indeed, it was him. He toasted them with his own glass.
"There you are." Nichol appeared, "I've only just arrived. My mother and yours have this idea I should go to Corsica this summer as well. But I had my heart set on going to America with my father. What do you think?"
Une hardly heard him. "Nichol, later." She dismissed herself absently, and walked up to Catherine.
"Cathy, Philip." Une let the smile demurely stretch her cheeks and sparkle in her eyes. "Congratulations."
"One would almost think you were happy, lady." Treize spoke before Catherine could reply. The other woman glanced between them. First at Une, then Treize and back to Une. "But wouldn't everyone agree that you are the role model for independent and single women everywhere?"
"I would say that Miss Une is very accomplished," She didn't know Philip Walker that well but decided he must be a good man to speak up for her. Catherine without a doubt knew when to keep a good one.
"Accomplishments of the academic world have very little use if one does not have the backbone to follow through on those ideals," His eyes met hers in undeniable challenge. She fought back, keeping his gaze without blinking. Then, as suddenly as the threatening words began, he eloquently glossed them over. "Which is why I'm determined to infiltrate the powerful figures in our current society. The voices of the people need to be heard and recognized. No change will take place without sacrifice. And I will see that the sacrifice brings great change."
Catherine wavered, as if uncertain if she understood correctly what she had heard, "Victoria University does train the next generation of soldiers and world leaders. I'm sure both you and Miss Une are doing very well." Her eyes sought out Walker instinctively.
Walker nodded, "That is why I am there. To guarantee security for future generations." The newly engaged couple shared a bashful smile.
***
During the course of the party, Treize danced with Lucrezia who then was handed over to Milliardo. Sally Po, who had left Victoria University mid- semester to enter medical school, danced with him for the better part of the evening. She was an ambitious girl who had manipulated her parents well, by obeying their request to go to the University, then using the power of the professors to support her desire for medical learning. Her parents practically believed that was where they had meant to send her all along. It was hard to miss them as they beamed her direction at all times. More proud of their daughter than anything.
Une and Nichol had raided the Barton's now long familiar family stock of whiskey. Simply tasting a few of the different bottles. Her heart was not in it, and she didn't want to smell of it in front of anyone else. Let alone Treize.
Nichol knew she was distracted. He most likely also knew why, but wisely kept his own council. Before long they were back in the main room watching Catherine and Philip Walker start the last dance alone. Slowly, more couples joined them. Surprisingly enough, one of the first was Milliardo and Lucrezia. The way he held her with such insecurity impacted Une's perspective of them strongly. For all of their imperfections, perhaps the two of them were finally exploring something with a possibility. One that might engage a new and mutual respect.
"Lady, have you not danced tonight at all?" Treize leaned in from behind, between her face and that of Nichol who stood beside her. "I'm sorry if your gentleman has let you down, once again."
Nichol's ears were immediately purple, as he must have held his breath in rage. But just as immediately, Treize had taken his hand to the small of Une's back and propelled her to the floor, grasping her other wrist and holding her in the imitation of two people dancing.
"Why?" Une felt her heart pound, but maintained a degree of control in her tone regardless. "Why do you call me a lady if you won't treat me like one?"
His grip on her wrist slipped and instead he had her fingers more gently caught. His other shoulder relaxed his hold just above her skirt. His eyes, which she studied fearlessly, flashed something almost of an apology. Nothing, however, was said.
If Treize were to be honest with himself at that point, he was terrified of Ekaterina Une more than any other woman he had met. She was of more simple beauty, but her spirit was more influential than any other he had come across. When she focused her entire soul and attention on one person, he could feel her power over them. Even Nichol, who loved her with pathetic abandon, also hated her control over him. With not a word, she had commanded him to stay along the wall. Not to interfere. Although, Treize had no doubt, that if she called him to interrupt, Nichol would come without question.
Treize's own desire was split. Half wanted to possess her, and half wanted to destroy her. She would become either an ally or an enemy, depending on how her spirit chose. And that spirit, like any woman's, he believed could be dictated by the fancy of her heart. So while he instinctively took her by force, he knew he could never keep her that way. If that was what he wanted.
When he never answered her question, she tried again. "What do you want?"
With a question so close to his thoughts, he answered naturally, "I want to be the individual to instigate the change necessary to bring this world to peace."
Une raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "I've heard you say that before. And while I see you manipulate everyone else to your side, don't forget that I am witnessing everything." His expression softened with each word.
"I want to kiss you, lady." He admitted leaning so that the words were breathed into her loose hair. "You make me weak, like no one else has."
She had others offer her love before. Lucrezia's affection, Milliardo's boyish lust, Trowa's admiration. Nichol's consistency.
But she'd never felt such shared desire and loss of control. He irritated her because of his power. From his words, did she make him feel that way also? She echoed the phrase, finding in it a reciprocated confession.
And, in front of everyone, they came to an understanding of each other. Nothing more was said. When the dance ended, Treize turned away. They had given each other nothing. But shared secrets and unfulfilled desires. No promises.
***
For appearances, nothing changed. But as Treize rose in esteem, she found herself keeping watch. Analyzing his strengths, being aware of his shortcomings. Studying Treize as much as her own class work. And for all of his confessions, he held her out farther than arm's length. As strangers.
Nichol, of course, reveled in having Une to himself once more. She played his game and his contentment settled into reassured joy. He neither proposed nor obligated her to any commitment. Not that she would have known how to address either. But the confidence she gave him propelled Nichol past needed those assurances. Once again, she controlled their relationship.
If anything, he became a kind person. And as cruel as she felt for not reciprocating the new truth of his feelings, she deceived herself that perhaps the sin of neglect might benefit Nichol in the end.
Her dreams, her work, her life became entangled with polishing Treize's ideals published in the school paper. Imagining how they might be realized. How he might succeed. But only if she were on his side. Of course, she was his weakness. As he had said.
She was the only one who could betray him. Or support him.
***
"I'm very happy, and, someday, you will be just as happy." Catherine was entertaining Une on her first visit to Corsica. She and Philip had moved there just the month before. Une's classes were to begin in mid-July. They were enjoying the Mediterranean sunshine from the white stone porch of the newlywed Walkers' apartment.
"I don't see myself ever being as pleased as Philip Walker has obviously made you, Cathy." Une said kindly, breathing in deep the aroma of the near water. The breeze threatening to untangle her braids.
She had never gone so long without seeing or at least reading about Treize. While he was well-known on the main campus, they had only finished their first year. Treize had gone to stay with Dr. Catalonia for the summer to study politics more specifically. Dr. Catalonia's father, Dorothy's grandfather, was a prominent figure in the current power circles. Une knew that meeting the older Catalonia would put Treize in a position to advance quickly within weeks of his final graduation from the Academy. If he didn't graduate sooner, Treize had already enough credits to make him a first semester Junior.
"You are too modest," Catherine chuckled, smiling ear to ear. "We've all seen the way Nikolai holds you in such high regard. You're future in secured."
Secured? Une continued to participate while the conversation went elsewhere, but her thoughts were constantly returning to the one man who made her weak.
***
After an entire summer on the entire island, Une found Victoria University surprisingly small. Her classes had expanded her skill within the ranks of the military. Bonaparte, positioned to be an Admiral in the next few years, had affectionately called her Colonel in the last weeks Writing to her parents, she explained that the understanding of strategies and minds had earned her promises of a command rank in the future.. News of her achievements reached the mainland before her letter did.
The only one more talked about than herself had been Treize. He had gotten along famously with Catalonia and his party of fellow politicians. After reaching an agreement with the school, Treize was going to graduate after finished just one more semester at the university then taking the remainder of his credits through tutors while being directly patroned by the older Catalonia.
It was almost as if each of their achievements would be mirrored by the other. Bringing them to a point where they would inevitably be together.
But they had never spoken, never been remotely alone together as they had at the Christmas party. His age filled him well physically, and she found herself being attracted to the softer chin. The intelligent shine of his eyes. The witty way he could manipulate words. It was almost as if he needed nothing.
Except, she felt, she knew. He had told her. He needed her.
Passing over offers to spend each holiday at home or abroad with one family or another, Une isolated herself. In effort to advance her own studies, to surpass her academic year and bring her own credits to an earlier graduation.
"I'm impressed," Nichol had studied her schedule when he returned for the January of his second year. "At this rate you'll be the second member of our initial class to earn enough credits to leave early. Of course, we all know that glamour hog Treize has already positioned himself to be the youngest member of the inner circles in government." Nichol watched her eat a moment, feeling a flicker of concern. He adored her abilities, but felt a bit frightened by them. He respected her too much to ask her why she wanted to leave so quickly. Not that leaving him behind disturbed his confidence in their future together. No one knew him better than Une, and he was certain no one knew her better than himself. Trying to make her smile, he snorted in mirth, "With both of you out of our immediate class I guess that means that Luce and Milliardo are going to have to duke it out for top spot."
As expected, Une smiled for him. Just a little, and that was all.
***
But as much as she might control them, Une could not completely ignore her emotions forever. Her desire to speak with him. To see if he ever meant those words he said that night. The words of his own desire. His desire for her.
She could not tell from such proximity. So she sought him out.
The eve of his graduation, Une found Treize walking through the campus. From the direction of the main campus toward the movements of the lake's water, mostly black but flickering with moonlight. The lake Victoria for which the campus was named.
He knew she was there. Stopping at last to put his hands into the pockets of his dress pants.
"You have your hair down tonight. It reminds me of when we danced." He spoke without needing to look or confirm who she was. "I was vulnerable to you then. Vulnerable to that guileless charm."
"Treize?" She asked, uncertain what he was thinking. All of her training, all of her observations, all of her efforts to analyze and strategize. Nothing could allow her access to his heart. The one thing she always failed to grasp.
"You say my name." He suddenly had closed the gap between them. Darkness still separating them with shadows. "Damn, if I don't sink into those unguarded eyes of yours and I'm lost." His words became bitter, "I can't do anything. Can't achieve anything if I don't build a barrier between us. I won't let you make me reconsider. I already know what love is without you."
He immediately knew why she had come.
And she panicked at his response.
"You won't love me?" The regret consumed her. The abandonment unexpected. Why was he reacting this way? Didn't he say she made him weak? Was that why? How could she make him strong? Confident? Anything to give her the opportunity. To become what he wanted.
"Still I want you to come away with me. Your graduation is affirmed. No one else could be my most loyal soldier." Treize whispered, still denying her access to that kiss as their faces were close. Denying her answers to the questions he was unable to answer. The only weakness he feared. Instead, stoking her hair idly, His hand then barely brushing back her bangs. Awkwardly, next, trying to reach the end of her long hair. "I also remember admiring your hair when you used the rose colored ribbons."
"Choose." Une spat impatient, frightened by what she was allowing him. "Tell me which you want. Which is it? Do you want a lady or a soldier? I can't tell. You will have to tell me."
Treize still held her shoulder, surprisingly strong even though he wore the clothes of a pampered individual. She could have broken free. He knew of her training in Corsica which involved to some degree hand to hand combat. The fierceness in her eyes frightened him a bit. It was a power that could stop his heart. Or, if used, could fuel his dreams. If he knew what those dreams were. He had dreamed of taking her lips. Just as this was offered, he knew he had dreamed more of his own power. Her offer would only make him weak.
Weak or alone?
Which would he regret more?
Why couldn't he have both?
"Become my colonel." He said, chilling her with each word as he unknowingly awakened her talent. "Why can't you feel this same way for my cause? Support me. Please always stay with me."
While she heard his words, breaking her spirit. Reshaping her. Destroying a part with his rejection. Forging another with his request. The whispers of hope he harbored in his doubt were a breathed undercurrent. Locking away the injury. Perhaps later she might return to those wounds and bleed once more. There would always be duty. If she could forget about love.
But the fleeting recollection passed as a dream upon waking.
He had said, no one understood him or recognized his plan. With her at his side, he could accomplish his own faction to upset the Federation. She had every ability at her disposal to promote, defend and protect her Lord Treize. And she would do whatever needed to be done to perform her duty.
There would always be duty.
***
"I came as soon as I heard," Nichol breathed heavily, not looking at her.
When she didn't give him any reassurances, he felt his stomach twist. She watched him coolly, blocking him any further access.
"He wants to use you. He will not love you. He will not take you as his wife!" Nichol cried, spilling out each phrase over the next. She knew them to be truth and not simple desperation. But she did not care. After announcing her new position under Treize's direct supervision, immediately promoted Colonel Une had been ordered to join his entourage to act as the military's strategic presence.
Meeting that morning at the Lake Victoria Airbase, porters were taking Treize's personal luggage and the supplies of his crew and position to a waiting air craft. Une was indirectly overseeing the premises. Since Nichol was acting like an agitated individual near a prestigious politician's point of transportation, Une was obligated to confront her childhood friend. But friendship meant little, even if he said his concern had nothing to do with Treize. Only with her.
She, on the other hand, wanted more than anything to be influential and important in Treize's life. His only.
"You won't understand, Nichol." She still used the name of endearment, but her voice was strict and low. Unlike any other voice he'd heard her use before. "But if this gives you any perspective: I will not abandon Treize just as you will not abandon me. I serve him, just as you serve me."
Nichol flinched, "You always have had me. Always, and this . . . you won't listen to me?" His chiseled features, so unlike the softness Treize presented, paled.
"Being a soldier means understanding the chains of command." Une's eyes narrowed. "I expect you to recognize them. Or learn them."
She left to join the rest of Treize's public party, following as his silent observer. Protecter. Unfulfilled lover.
Broken, but finding his emotions suddenly unchained, Nichol almost laughed. He had loved, he had followed her, but now he was free. Unlike Treize's lady, no, Treize's colonel. Now she would never be liberated. Not as long as Treize lived. But war had a funny way of destroying its leaders. And if Nichol were to bide his time.
There would always be revenge. He would do anything, if he could forget about love.
He was free except . . .
If he could only stop loving *her*.
The end.
( ~deep breath~ I needed a chance to write something a bit unordinary. I see this as a complete story since my purpose was primarily to explore the causes/source of their complicated triangle, Une's downfall (why did she have to follow Treize like a puppy!?) and to make Nichol a more poignant participant. I couldn't tie it into the Gundam Wing series or point you to the anime for a resolution or outcome. Some similar conclusion will come to Une, Treize and Nichol since they are parallel stories, but not exactly of course.)
***