Hello world. First thing's first, a big thank you! I've finally reached the coveted 1,000 review mark. It's been more than seven years since I started this story, and it's practically seen me grow up as a writer (and to a certain extent, as a person). I'm really happy I have all the readers to join me in this journey of sorts. So yes, thank you so much for all the support.

In any case, just a few things I want to clear up, just in case you've forgotten after that one month wait for the update: Kira's real gift was the bow Talia gave. He sent someone to deliver it to Zaft, but Talia's henchmen got to the messenger first, killed him, swapped the bow with the decapitated heads and sent that to Athrun. Then Talia had the leader of those henchmen killed since he was the only who knew she ordered the murder. So yes, Talia's definitely somewhere in the dark side.

Just thought I had to give you that background since I'm mentioning that again somewhere here. Without further ado...

Disclaimer: The author of this fic does not own gundam seed/destiny, or its characters, because if I claimed I did, would delete my story—wouldn't it?—and the copyright people will sue me. Any similarities from other fics are purely coincidental, and so are any allusions to real events, places and people.

Chapter 40: Allies

The prince's chamber had always been too quiet. It was located in the palace's highest tower, the prince being its sole occupant. Several flights away from the nearest receiving area, few servants came in to check on the rooms, composed of the study, the prince's bedroom, and a grand bath. Athrun said he had always stayed in this part of the palace as soon as he was old enough to live apart from his mother. He liked the view—reaching over the walls of the fortress and as far as the neighboring villages. It towered over every establishment in the white city. From this high up, it was easy to see the smoke coming from the royal crematory.

A window in one corner of the bedroom was the only thing linking Cagalli to the outside world. Somehow, if she blinked, she thought she could see the fortress of Orb, a little comfort away from home. On the second night of her hiding, it was impossible to sleep. Athrun had been gone the whole day, dealing with the untimely deaths of Todaka and Waltfield. The whole day had been filled with anxiety, with Cagalli pacing back and forth in the confines of Athrun's bedroom. She wasn't aloud to step outside, not even into the study.

When Athrun did come back around midnight, the first thing he asked Cagalli was to be left alone. The exhausted look on his face told her he didn't want to explain anything. Not wanting to incur his ire, Cagalli obeyed.

It had been two hours since then. The girl couldn't bear her anxieties any longer. She had to ask him what happened. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door.

He seemed uncomfortable, his body limp in his oak desk. His head rested on his arms crossed on top of the table, like he had fallen asleep while thinking of something extremely difficult. She couldn't see his face, but she figured that he didn't notice her step into the study because he was asleep. Upon a closer look, his eyes were closed, scrunched up like they put so much effort in staying shut.

She wished she could smooth the creases on his brow and watch him sleep more peacefully. He had forgotten to change into more comfortable clothing, the coat he wore today still hanging from his seat. All he had on his back was the silk shirt he had been wearing since morning. Cagalli was sure it was too thin to protect him from the night wind. Thinking it was the least she could do, she unraveled the blanket she had wrapped around herself to keep her warm, and threw it on his back.

The next thing she knew, a steel dagger threatened to pierce her throat.

"I'm sorry," Athrun said, still breathless after releasing Cagalli's neck. It took him a while to realize that he was hovering over the girl, his weight pinning her to the table.

She could still feel the skin around her neck sting as Athrun told her it was always a bad idea to disturb him in his sleep. She watched him rub his face in an effort to wake up his sore muscles, his eyes slightly red from staying awake for so long. Cagalli urged him to tell her what was wrong.

"Even if I told you, there's nothing you can do."

Again, he asked her to return to her room and try to get some sleep. Athrun insisted on this arrangement, even if Cagalli said it wasn't right for him to be treated so poorly when she was the one who owed him a favor. The desk didn't look very comfortable, and the fireplace to keep his room warm was in his bedroom. It was warm enough in the prince's study, but the big window behind Athrun's desk let the cold night wind in.

"There has to be something I can help you with."

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

"Go to sleep," Athrun snapped. Cagalli probably wouldn't budge until she saw him snoring. So even if his mind still went in circles with all the problems he had to deal with, he tried to pretend he was asleep. As Aprilian custom dictated, Todaka's and Waltfield's heads were cremated the day after the ball, in one of the grandest funerals ever held for anyone not of noble blood. Thousands turned out for the procession as the caskets were paraded to the royal crematory.

From his study, he could still see the faint traces of red in the smoke coming from the crematory chimney. Nobody could explain where the red traces came from. Some speculated it had something to do with the way they were killed, while some blamed it on witchcraft.

I call for prudence and fortitude, the king said in his eulogy. The truth will be uncovered.

Fortitude—of all the virtues, this seemed to be the one thing he needed the most amid these turbulent times. In lieu of the mob's witch hunt, the king had arranged his own search team to search through every house and establishment Cagalli had visited. Within 24 hours, entire mansions had been upturned—including all three townhouses of the Elsmans. Many innocent civilians were included in the search, sparking even more blame and hatred for Orb.

The other noble houses were left relatively untouched. Athrun had enough reason to believe that this was because the man heading the search was Duke Janus Westenfluss, who had never liked the Elsmans in the first place. The prince was sure the duke was watching his every move in this evening's meeting of top officials involved in the investigation. Athrun wasn't fooling anyone.

They knew he was hiding something. It was only a matter of time before the search reached his room. The search was random—he was unsure when it would happen. But when it did, he needed a plan. He would take Cagalli down through the secret passages leading to the city's underground network, secret bunkers maintained by the Joule family where citizens could seek refuge in case the fortress fell. Even Athrun would get lost in the maze, so he would need Ezalia's help to lead Cagalli through the labyrinth, which, in turn, led to the caves of the blue river. From the other side, they could walk to the next village, where their journey to Orb would begin.

Their journey—Athrun couldn't emphasize it more. If it ever came to a point where he needed to help Cagalli escape, he knew he would never be able to set foot in his homeland again. He would be branded a traitor, disowned by his father and a country he had served for all his 22 years in the world.

"Is there really nothing I can do for you?"

He refused to lift his head and look at her in the eye. Seeing her sad would only crush his faith more. From the fleeting glimpse of her face, he could see dark rings framing her eyes. Sleep had evaded her as well. The more he saw the worry on her face, the more he felt his anger surge.

His enemies were moving. And they were after her as well. They sought her not because of the information she knew—which was next to nil—but because her pain would be his. It would be sweet revenge for his enemies, lieutenants demoted for corruption and nobles reprimanded for their transgressions.

Spies were never treated lightly in Aprilius. He didn't want to think what they would put her through in the dungeons.

He crossed his arms in his seat, pretending to fall asleep. To his relief, her feet finally made soft steps on the carpeted floor, the blanket dragged behind her like the train of a gown. When he heard his bedroom door click open, and then close after a few moments, he finally relaxed. The cushion of his armchair seemed a little more inviting now. To his relief, he could feel the paralyzing effect of exhaustion, climbing through his muscles and lulling him to slumber.

Until he felt two legs straddle both sides of him on his chair, something soft and warm leaning on him.

The sheer position they were in sent his senses flying.

"Wh... what are you doing?"

"Shh. I'm going to help you sleep. If it's the only thing I can do."

The gasp he let out made him fluster, more so as Cagalli's thumbs made small circles around his temples. He tried to protest as her other fingers climbed to his brow, tracing fine lines to wipe out the creases that had marred them the whole morning. Her fingers were cold—the nights certainly were growing colder—as they brushed his forehead.

"Is this some sort of therapy?"

"I'm just making this up," she giggled, letting her weight fall on him more. At first his heart started to race, but as her body pressed further, he felt his breathing grow steadier, more comfortable as her hands kept stroking his face. Soon, it got very difficult to keep his eyes open.

The only thing keeping them open was the sight of her face, radiant under the dim light in the room. Just as she always had, she looked straight into his eyes, the only thing he could see clearly in these long nights plagued with anxiety. Of course she could tell how entranced he was, how her touch made him lose track of his troubles in a matter of seconds, how he thirsted more and more of the feelings she gave him now.

In a night where it seemed no one could be trusted, her lips were a welcome comfort. She was gentle and unintrusive, watching him intently for the slightest reaction. There was something enthralling about her initiating the kiss, when sometimes Athrun thought her feelings were not as deep as his, and that she was unwillingly stuck in this predicament he had drawn her into. Her breathing was steady, her calmness showing him she was sure. Without him having to move a single muscle, she leaned further, parting her lips slightly so she could deepen the contact, letting her own feelings spill out in that cold and windy night.

When she lifted her head, her lips were shaking a little, her eyes looking downwards. She seemed surprised of her own actions. But whatever doubts she had, they seemed to have faded quickly as she wrapped her arms around his neck, warming him as the cold wind blew. She told him she didn't want to be a burden. Before Athrun could tell her she never was, Cagalli had fallen sound asleep.

+o+

Cagalli would stay in Athrun's chamber for five more days. Under the guise of official business, Luna and Ezalia came in every morning to check on her. Luna would bring her books to pass the time, and Ezalia would update her of the events outside. Much to her relief, Miri had been released, and at that time was under the care of the Elsmans.

Just as the king had ordered, she was treated properly. Repeatedly questioned but never hurt, she was released only two days after her capture.

"Don't fall for it. It's a trap to lure you in."

But Ezalia said the only reason they let Miri go was to give Cagalli a false assurance that she would be treated the same way. Aprilius was not known for torture, so it was easy to believe that the dungeons were not as terrifying as Athrun made them out to be. Ezalia refused to delve into the details, but she did say this.

"Don't be fooled. The very fact that you've never heard of the horror means too few had actually survived the torture."

Her meetings with Ezalia didn't take very long. She and Luna had to leave as soon as Athrun had to attend to his duties. While Dearka and Nicol took turns guarding the hall leading to the prince's chamber, they seldom met Cagalli, with all the other responsibilities they had to deal with, topped off with the task of keeping up with the developments of the investigation.

So most of the time, she was left alone in Athrun's room, immersed in the books Luna was able to bring in for her and the small collection Athrun had in his room. Cagalli was still forbidden to enter the prince's study in daytime. Attendants came and went to clean the study and the rest of the chamber, and none of them knew the princess was just a door away.

Conveniently enough, none of them were allowed into the prince's bedroom. Athrun said it was just a matter of preference—he didn't like the idea of other people sifting through his personal things, so he took it upon himself to clean his own room. For a man's room, Athrun's place was surprisingly neat. The daily clothes and accessories were folded primly in his closet, his papers and books clean of dust on the shelves—in fact, the only thing out of order in the room was his bed, because it was Cagalli sleeping in it. She hated to admit it, but the only reason her own room was anywhere as orderly was because she had attendants clean it for her.

To give Cagalli some semblance of normalcy, Athrun asked his servants to prepare two baths a day, one in the morning for her, another in the evening for himself. The bathroom seemed to be one of the few vanities he indulged in. The tub—pool is a more appropriate word—was always filled with warm water, the rose petals changed everyday. There was a door from the study that led straight to the bathroom, so to make her feel more comfortable, Athrun locked that door and stayed in his desk throughout the whole time she bathed. Everytime Cagalli peeked, Athrun would be asleep in his desk.

But if there was anything interesting about the prince's chamber, it was his dress room, a small enclosure connecting his bedroom and the bathroom. She found many treasures in it, old things from his younger days—rainbow colored coats and trousers that made him look like the jester instead of the prince, bright and pointy shoes that were fashionable at some point in Aprilian history, and the old blanket he couldn't sleep without when he was a little boy. Athrun furiously grabbed the last item when Cagalli waved it proudly at his face. In his defense, most of his clothes were chosen by his mother, and even Ezalia lost her mind trying to drill in any proper fashion sense into the woman.

Even more notable were Athrun's old worksheets from his tutors. From these, Cagalli figured out Athrun fared best in history and ethics, fared so-so in math and science but performed dismally in art and calligraphy. Calligraphy was his worst subject, and according to one of Ezalia's many side comments, the prince was so frustrated, he did away with all of his calligraphy teachers—at this point, he had changed tutors at least fifty times—and hired at least ten scribes to compose all of his messages. It had been this way ever since.

It may have been strange for a girl like her, but Cagalli liked being in Athrun's dress room. It was her personal treasure chest, a sneak peek into the boy Athrun was before he became Commander. It also showed her more of what Athrun was behind the armor, the fancy coats and cravats, and the princely demeanor he seldom dropped even in her presence. Most of his pants were black, the occasional blue for the tokenistic appearances in formal gatherings, and brown for trips to the country side where he preferred not to wear anything that gathered dirt so easily. He hated hats, but had a lot of hoods. Apparently, he used them to go incognito in smaller villages. Judging from the stash of white shirts filling one side of the enclosure, she could tell he preferred silk more than anything else—perhaps the only other bit of vanity he had. The only time he didn't wear silk was when he was in the battlefield, preferring cheesecloth shirts because they endured wear and tear better.

Athrun once told her in passing that his entire wardrobe had to be revamped after his torture in Logos—nothing too rough and absolutely nothing that showed the ugly lacerations. The preference for silk was because for a long time it was the only thing his skin could endure. His back had grown numb to the occasional bouts of pain over the years, but it would still come to bite him every now and then, especially in the weeks leading to winter.

The pain had recurred in the past few days. Athrun refused to tell her how bad it was, but he seemed to have been using more of a particularly strong painkiller he added into the water he used to bathe. It soothed the muscles and numbed the flesh where the scar was, and it also gave Athrun the distinct scent he had. Two days ago, Cagalli found out first hand just how strong it was. That night, Athrun had been in the bathroom for two hours. Cagalli was worried, so she gathered all her courage to knock on the door.

Nothing. Not even when the door shook as her fist pounded on it. In a fit of panic, she pulled it open.

"Wha... What happened?" Athrun got up, suddenly awakened by the sound of a banging door. The painkiller was so strong, he fell asleep in the bath. It was a bad habit he had. Sometimes he would wake up still soaking in the water the following morning.

Cagalli was sure he still sported the little bump on the head she gave him that night. The shock of that incident made her throw the nearest thing to her—a small metal water basin—straight to his face. He was able to evade, but not without losing balance and hitting his head on one of the marble statuettes. Since then, Cagalli never entered the bathroom no matter how many hours it took Athrun to get out.

The scent in Athrun's dress room made the memory more poignant. Her own thoughts made her blush, but at this point, all she could do was indulge in the scent as she looked for more shirts and coats she could borrow. In her search, she stumbled upon a stack of notes left on top of one of the shelves. The sheets varied from white to yellowish to weathered brown, meaning they were written at different points in time.

For some reason, Athrun had been reading a few notes written a long time ago, along with a few recent ones from his allies. The latest note was from Dearka, and it detailed the events as of yesterday.

Athrun,

I bring you good news. I think the investigation's heading in a good direction for us. Most of the king's court are starting to agree. The evidence doesn't seem to be pointing to Orb.

The day after the grand ball, a group of armed men were arrested after attempting to enter the fortress without authorization. After days of questioning, one of them finally admitted that they had murdered someone at the gates and they were waiting for their leader who had met up with the woman who had ordered the murder.

They said the victim was from Orb. Their leader told them to take all of his possessions, which their leader delivered to their client in the city. They never saw their leader after that.

Another thing the court is investigating is how the heads got into the city in the first place. All the guards had been questioned for any suspicious packages that had entered the city gates. These are soldiers, Athrun, they know the scent of blood. Even if it was sealed tightly, they would have caught the scent up close.

It was the other thing that made the fateful package so strange. The putrid scent of death should have given the package away the moment it was brought into the ballroom. Half of the people inside were soldiers—they would be the first people to realize when a dead man was brought into the room. The two men had been dead for several days. The stink should have been unbearable. But no one noticed the contents of the package until they spilled out.

We curse ourselves for having thought of this only now, when the heads have already been reduced to ashes. We'll have to think of another way to investigate this.

With this, he ended the note, adding a quick reminder for Athrun to greet Cagalli for him. After a quick prayer for their success, the girl opened the next note. It was dated October 25, a few days before Athrun's birthday.

Commander,

Your requests have been granted. The museum's new exhibit was meant to have a grand launch tomorrow, but my friend was nice enough to give Cagalli a private tour that day. Luckily, he's a fan of her, too. He keeps giving me odd looks because he thinks I'm trying to score points with her, but I keep saying I'm doing this under the orders of a mystery suitor. Well, like that's any secret by now. Do you honestly think you're fooling anyone with all the mystery bouquets and chocolates you ask me to buy for her? Everyone knows it's you. I bet Cagalli's the only one who doesn't know—she's dense, lucky you. You have to tell her, sir. It's the only way you'll ever move on.

The next part was done in slightly different handwriting. Only now did Cagalli realize how similar Shinn's and Athrun's handwriting were. If Cagalli didn't know better, she would have mistaken them for brothers for the queer set of notes they traded days before his birthday.

Thank you for your help, Captain. I knew I could count on you.

Don't evade the subject, Commander. You have to tell her.

Can't. I don't have to explain things to you.

Why not? Not man enough to admit your own feelings?

Take that back.

She could easily imagine them bickering about this face to face, or at least the frustration on Shinn's face as he scribbled away. This made him miss the young soldier, who had been sent to Orb on an important mission. He was to investigate the murders first hand. If circumstances permitted, Shinn was also ordered to meet Kira in Haumea. Hours after the ball, Cagalli asked Nicol to use Haro to send a message to Orb's prince, informing him of the attack. Whichever messenger got first could hold the key to solving the entire fiasco.

The comic notes took Cagalli's mind off Shinn's perilous situation. The next notes in Athrun's stack were exchanges with his allies, mostly from the past five years. This one was from last year, the year Shinn finished military school.

Athrun,

Your favorite cadet's graduated, finally. Just like you, he's a pain. Don't you dare assign him to my division or I'll bludgeon you to death.

Yzak

PS: I demand to be relieved of my duties as academy trainer. I hate kids.

Right below it, Athrun wrote:

Sure.

Athrun

PS: You should try and get used to kids. You'll have them eventually.

Athrun,

I don't want to be told that by someone who's never wooed a woman in his life.

Yzak

Yzak may have been the quintessential grump, but his candidness was strangely endearing. In fact, a lot of the notes made references to Athrun's eternally single status, with his friends setting him up with several Aprilian noblewomen, and Athrun telling them over and over that he didn't need a girlfriend.

Dearka, Heine and Nicol,

For the last time. If anyone tries setting me up again, I AM DEMOTING ALL OF YOU TO CADETS!

Athrun

But it was the next note that truly caught her attention. It was written five days after Lenore died.

February 19

Athrun,

It's been five days since we last saw you. They told us you were sent back to the capital. You didn't even show up at the funeral in Junius. We're worried. Please send us a message.

Heine

It was a series of notes, written in the first few months after the queen's death. Like the rest of the soldiers, Heine and his friends waited anxiously for Athrun's return to the battlefield.

March 20

Athrun,

The army has returned to the capital. Are you aware? They say you haven't come out of your room since you got back. The men are anxious to see you. Especially Yzak. He says he can't believe you abandoned all of us in the battlefield. He wants to see you and hack you to death. Dearka's worried as well. Please send us a note.

March 22

Athrun,

It's been two days. Dearka, Yzak and myself had been coming up to the palace to visit you, but the attendants said you wanted to be left alone. Are you still eating right? Sleeping? How long do you plan to stay locked up?

If you ever want to talk, we're right outside of your room. Literally.

March 29

Athrun,

It's been a week. Dearka, Yzak and myself had been camping outside your room for days now. I'm not joking. We've been staying at the room across yours for the past week in hopes of seeing you well.

Please send us a note. We're worried.

Based on the notes, Athrun finally emerged from his seclusion on the first week of April, just in time for the battle in Montgomery. Even then, Athrun kept his interactions with his friends to a minimum.

April 16

Athrun,

I got your message. Congratulations on winning back Montgomery. I heard you were leading the battalion that won the decisive battle. That should shut up your critics in the king's court.

I'm still convincing my grandfather to let me ride up to the north and join the battle in Magsaysay. You know he's never liked you. Dearka's born ready, and Yzak's relatives are more than eager to get him killed. Just so you know, everyone thinks the mission will be suicidal. But we trust you now as we always have.

PS: I know a lot of people are saying you don't have what it takes. I've told you this before, but I'll say it again. Don't listen to them. To be in your service is an honor. No one can defend Zaft better.

At the bottom of the note, Athrun wrote this message.

Heine,

Thank you. I'm alright now. Sorry for making you all worry. I'll wait for you.

Thank you for your trust. I will always treasure it.

Athrun.

"He was injured because me," she remembered Athrun telling her once, when she asked him if he was truly fine with the current rift between him and the lieutenant. Among the three hundred Aprilians who had joined the battle against three thousand mercenaries in Magsaysay, Heine was one of those critically injured. Athrun was about to get struck from behind, but Heine blocked the attack and got slashed instead. Heine's family appealed to him to leave the army, but he insisted he wouldn't be anywhere else but by the prince's side.

The next notes were from his other friends, all written this year.

October 12

Athrun,

Thank you for coming to the concert last night. I wouldn't have had that piano solo without your recommendation. You've been so much help in my career as a musician and soldier, I can't thank you enough. You will have my loyalty forever.

Nicol

PS: I know you slept through the whole concert. Don't worry. I understand.

April 5

Athrun,

How are you? It's been a year since we last saw each other. How's the weather in Junius? I know you're homesick, but bear with it. I'm told you're very close to smiting the entire northern force this time.

When are you sending me back there? I'm bored in the capital. You know I'm always eager to join you in battle. Heine's getting all the action. I thought we were best friends?

Dearka

April 12

Athrun,

WHAT THE HELL TOOK YOU SO LONG?! Dearka and I are riding up to the North in a few hours. You should have called for reinforcements earlier. When I see you, I'll squeeze your eyes out for your stupid decisions.

Yzak

PS: Don't you dare get killed before we get there.

The last message in the collection was an exchange between Heine and King Patrick. It detailed the events of the last battle in the northern frontier, where Athrun and his men ultimately defeated Djibril. Heine had been reporting to the king as his eyes and ears in the battlefield.

Your Highness,

The forces from Joule and Elsman clinched the battle. The Commander broke Djibril's back like a twig. He was screaming when his men pulled him out of the chaos. We will consider the battle won and send the men home.

The king's reply was short, like all of his other messages mixed up in Athrun's notes. With Athrun, his messages were always formal, constantly addressing him as Commander or Prince. But with Heine, it was different. Cagalli understood now what Athrun meant by Heine being more loyal to the king than anyone else.

Heine,

Thank you. As always, I trust Athrun's life with you and your friends.

Patrick

At the end of the note, Cagalli found out Athrun didn't intercept the letter on his own. Heine sent it to Athrun this morning, making a quick postnote at the end of the sheet. The ink was still slightly fresh and smudged.

No matter what you do or how much we disagree, we will never abandon you.

A small smile playing on her face, she put the stack of notes back where she found it. The prospect of seeing Heine again and knowing he was still an ally made her giddy. But just before she could step out of the dress room, she heard the chamber's entrance bang open.

Ignoring Cagalli's pleas to tell her what happened, Athrun shut himself in the bathroom. The carpet he stepped on was soaking wet, freezing water mixed with blood that had dripped from his shirt. Thankfully, he seemed uninjured, but the anguish on Athrun's face told her there was something terribly wrong.

With the door wide open, she saw Heine standing at the chamber's entrance. When their eyes met, she could still feel the frustration in them, no matter how hard he tried to suppress it. Nevertheless, she urged him to tell her the truth, saying she didn't want to be a burden to anyone. They were all risking their lives and hard-earned honor.

There had to something she could do.

"Nicol's been captured. For treason."

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And that sums up this chapter. As always, I urge all of you to tell me what you think. Till the next update

Feb 28 2014