AN: Yeah, I'm changing chapter 4...because I absolutely HATE the chapter that I wrote before. I re-read it...and it pissed me off. It was too cliché. So, I, along with my mighty pen, am changing that be-darned thing. So there. *poutz...then shrugs sheepishly* yeah. N'wayz, this is the rewritten chapter 4 and I think it's a little better than the old version. Okayz, tha's it.

Despite Dorothy's previous optimism, Relena's health steadily worsened; somehow, infection had entered through the open wound, black lines tracing her way up the pulsing veins. Sweat beaded on her brow and fever dreams made her tremble and cry out, calling pleadingly for her absent parents that had long left the mortal plane for the Havens. Lost in memories, and unable to find her way past the pain, she ambled aimlessly in her mind, the periods between fevers growing fewer and farther apart and her eyes opened in lucidity less and less.

Dorothy bit her lip, almost trembling with exhaustion herself as she carefully spooned water into Relena's parched lips, her vision graying around the corners from days of no sleep. Her lustrous platinum-blonde hair, her vanity and the envy of many ladies, grew lank and oily from lack of care and new lines formed on her face, giving her the appearance of one ten years her senior. Listlessly, yet with the stubbornness she was well-known for, she brought the spoon up again, noticing that her hand was shaking so violently that much of the water splashed into her lap, soaking into the black satin of her gown. She closed her eyes briefly.

I don't know how long I can take this...

Suddenly, long, sure fingers curled around hers, supporting the handle, and a familiar presence, reassuring and strong, stood at her back, infusing some of his strength into her, and she opened her eyes wearily to meet a concerned, azure gaze that could have been the twin of her own.

"Lady-"

"I can't get to her, Quatre." Her familiar causticity was missing, the vivacity and life in her had seemed to drain away the past week that she had spent caring for her foster sister until she looked not unlike a walking corpse herself. Hating to show weakness, yet needing his reassurance, she dropped her head onto his shoulder letting his arms steal around her shoulders in a comforting embrace. "She will not speak to me, only to my aunt and uncle; when she opens her eyes, I do not know if it is me she sees."

For a moment, Quatre said nothing to the woman in his arms, carefully weighing his words. "Odin sent for Sally Po, Dorothy. On the third day of Relena's sickness, he cast his messenger bird toward the Sanq Kingdom and replies have returned. She will arrive in the morning."

Dorothy stiffened, "Sally!?" There was indignity in her voice and for a second, her old spirit lit briefly. "What can she do that I cannot-" Then just as quickly, the fight left her and she sighed, defeated as she corrected herself simply, "No. No, Odin is right; I do not have the skill for this and I trust none of these so-called medics of the White Fang with Relena's life."

Her crystal blue eyes flashed contemptuously as she recalled the rotund little man that had tried to give Relena a purgative to 'clear her of her bad spirits'; Relena, who already suffered from intense dehydration and malnutrition as the fever burned her extra fat storage away. Fools, if the fever wouldn't kill her, their tender administrations would! And she could not stay awake always to make sure that none of the Palace quacks came near Relena, she was at the end of her endurance as it was and could do no more without making mistakes. Leaning back against Quatre, she murmured reluctantly, "No, I cannot do this...Sally it must be."

Quatre looked down on her, reminding gently, "Sally is professionally trained to be both surgeon and medic, Dorothy. You are not. You cannot blame yourself for not knowing all the arts of healing as well as warfare and diplomacy."

"But she is my sister!" Anguish laced Dorothy's voice, pain that was usually hidden in beneath her sharp wit, "My sister in all but blood, she has guarded and protected me always! And when she needs me now, I can do nothing!"

"She is alive now, Dorothy, and this is your doing." Quatre pointed out. "You have been here for her as she would have been here if your positions were reversed and you have done your best. Tomorrow, Sally will come to take your place and you will be able to finally sleep as you could not." His eyes strayed towards the discarded bottles that lay at haphazardly at Dorothy's side, all of them empty of their former liquids. "You have taken enough ril to kill an ox, Dorothy; it is amazing that you have not yet felt the toxins and continue to work."

"I had to stay awake," Dorothy sighed wearily, almost painfully, "and ril is a good stimulant...for a while. It allows me to forget my weariness. But my body cannot handle this stress of sleeplessness much longer...I can feel the ache in my hands as if they would fall from my wrists and I do not believe that I can stand from my chair for my legs do not move at my will."

"Then sleep." Rising with graceful efficiently, Quatre piled furs by the fireplace, the warmth of the flames flickering in an enticing gold against the shadowed pallet. "I will stay and guard over both you and my Lady Captain as you rest. All will be well until morning and Miss Sally will be here then." Dorothy's wavering expression yielded and she rose unsteadily to her feet, stumbling from weariness and would have fallen if Quatre had not caught her and led her to the makeshift bed. She collapsed into a boneless heap, too tired to be graceful and was asleep as soon as her cheek touched the furs. She did not feel the woolen mantle that Quatre draped over her nor feel him arrange her into a more comfortable position.

When he was assured that both his patients were well asleep, he sat down in the chair that Dorothy had just vacated, taking up the mostly untouched bowl of water. Not bothering to turn around, he asked calmly, "How long have you been there, Duo?"

"Maybe a few minutes. Maybe more." There was a low chuckle from the shadows and an almost inaudible shuffle of lightweight robes. "It's kinda hard to tell when everything's pitch black."

"True." Quatre turned slightly so he could se the outline of the braided man. "Let me ask you another question then, why are you here?"

"Why are you here, Q-man?" Duo countered, "I'm worried 'bout 'Jousan." Quatre smiled lightly as he saw Duo's eyes stray towards the formless figure draped across the pallet.

"And Lady Dorothy as well, it would seem."

Duo snorted but admitted grudgingly, "Yeah, yeah, so I was kinda worried 'bout Miss 'I can Do all, Be all, See all, and Still have time for Tea' over there. But don't tell her I said so, she'll lord it over me for the rest of my life and I'll never hear the end of it."

Quatre chuckled at the too accurate assessment before inclining his head slightly, "As you wish." He paused awkwardly and then asked, a little more hesitantly, "And how is Hilde?"

"What else? She blames herself," Duo shrugged, obviously to Quatre's empathy a little upset. "It's not like we all don't anyway, but you know how she takes this kind of thing, almost as a personal insult. Doesn't help that all the Dominioners are so fascinated with her berserker mode the other day; they keep on challenging her to mock duels as if they're trying to prove something to themselves. Not as if she's not feeling bad enough as it is!" The last sentence was bitten off savagely and Duo's violet eyes flashed in the midnight shadows around him.

"Prove?"

Duo smirked. "I dunno, that they can't be beat by some Sanq pacifist? That a female of our species can't knock them on their ass as easily as any man? Who knows the mysteries ways of the Dominion warrior? Hell if I do." He paused again, then some of the anger faded from his face as he added as if inconsequentially, "She's beat most of them down on their asses by the way. You don't really wanna deal with a pissed off Preventor...especially not one of the Mandalore Guard. You get hurt that way. I tried to tell 'em but do they ever listen?"

There was a marked pride in his voice as if he relished the fact that Hilde was able to win against the Dominion test and Quatre smiled slightly too, his instinctive worry easing somewhat. His smiled dimmed somewhat as he looked down at Relena, each breath shaking her entire body like a harsh gale against a young willow tree, and carefully, he smoothed her hair out of her face, murmuring quiet words of comfort.

She whimpered in response, a high, childlike sound. "Mother?" Forlorn loss tinged the voice of her younger self and she curled in more tightly around the knotted sheets in a semi-fetal position.

"Mother....Mommy! I'm scared!"

"Shhh...Relena, it's us." Her eyes barely opened before she turned her face away, unseeing. Soothingly, Quatre trailed a damp cloth over her feverish skin, still speaking gently, "You are safe here." He glanced at Duo, who moved closer to sit at her other side, cradling her uninjured hand in his.

"Yeah, 'jousan. We're here. We won't let anything hurt you..."

"There's fire, and smoke...I can't breathe! Help...please-"

"There isn't any smoke, Lady Relena. There isn't any fire here." Quatre comforted, "That's your past, a part of your childhood. You are an adult now, these things can't hurt you any more."

For moments after, Relena didn't make a sound except for her shuddering breathing, in, out, in, out...

"Mommy...?"

"Relena..."

"Why's Papa lying there? Mommy..." There was a long pause, and then she gripped the coverlet more tightly in her hands, her body trembling with pain, both mental and physical. "Why did you have to die?"

*~*

Dawn caste a mulish yellow tinge into the sky, lighting up the cyclone green clouds and gray night air in an ominous array of colors. It was as if true light would not coming with morning today and the scent of rain and wetness hung heavily in the air, blanketing the plains with a sort of brooding silence for not even the snake slithered out from beneath his rocky shade.

Odin sat motionless on his warsteed, eyes riveted on the far horizon from whence he expected the healer to appear. Titain shifted underneath him in response to his rigid unease, shifting from foreleg to foreleg in a restless, shuffling dance and then tossed his head, blowing air from his nostrils loudly. Absently, Odin put a hand on Titain's neck, quieting the horse before he turned his attention once more to the northern skies. His side still twinged from time to time from the pain of the blade wound of his attacker, but he ignored it for the time being. There were more important things afoot.

He heard the shuffle of muffled hooves behind him and without turning around, said coldly, "Warrior."

"Hn."

The sound of hoof beats stopped a few paces away and Heero sat motionless as well, his features hidden by the long, folded burnoose that protected his face from the stinging sands. He looked briefly, curiously, towards Odin before turning to face the north as well, his Prussian-blue eyes unsettling in its blandness. For a second, neither of them spoke, as if loathe to break the quiet around them with meaningless words, insignificant and petty. They sat together quietly until unwillingly, Odin glanced at his unwanted companion, pale olive eyes snapping.

His voice not softening, Odin continued curtly, "Ye've seen my mistress then and ye know that we sent fer th'healer?"

"Yes. His Excellency bade me come greet them."

Odin snorted cynically, "Just as ye greeted us, eh? Your ambassador challenges Rel to a duel, slices through 'er arm, tosses 'er into fever dreams, and ye say this be a greetin' worthy of allies...well, t'is a strange greeting to be sure! Remind me t'give ye the same when ye reach the Sanq." Hostility and resentment wove through his voice in tangible threads and he would have said more but for the distant thunder that rumbled across the grassy plains, drawing nearer.

Rising on his stirrups, Odin looked hard and saw a thin line of dust darkening the edge of the sky and two horses galloping towards them in a smooth, ground-eating pace. Their proud heads were curved back and their manes poured behind them like molten gold, billowing like the clouds themselves.

"Two riders?" Odin muttered sharply then dropped, closing his knees about Titain's flank, causing the horse to leap forward, thinking rapidly. Lady Une had undoubtedly heard of Relena's illness and sent an extra guard for the healer as well. And at a time like this there was only one person that she would trust to guard both Relena and Dorothy. Self-trained, as skilled in politics and pretense as she was in her position as Sanq's top undercover intelligencia...

Midii Une, Lady Anne Une's youngest daughter.

Calling a greeting across the distance that separated them, Odin raised his arm in a wave, a smile forcing its way across his hard-planed face and weathered features. "Midii! Miss Sally, ma'am!"

Odin reached forward, gripping Midii's forearm in welcome as he grinned down at the young woman before him. She didn't respond other than to nod coolly, but a small smile that she showed to few flickered in the depths of her slate gray eyes, laden with painful memories and unnamed fears and she returned his grip with equal intensity, before letting go. She glanced towards Sally meaningfully before guiding her horse back a step so that he could properly greet the tall, blonde woman.

Taking a hint, Odin bowed respectfully at the healer, touching three fingers lightly across his forehead. "Aknavet l'ashralan. T'is long that we have watched th'hills for yer coming."

The woman smiled soothingly, pulling the beige hood back to reveal a heart-shaped face with warm, competent eyes and mobile, sensitive mouth. Returning the same gesture with two fingers, Sally straightened, allowing him to clasp her hand loosely in his. "Preventor Lowe, I am here, as always, to serve. However, I regret that my skills are needed at all during this mission. Please inform me of the current updates to my patient."

Odin looked up quickly and turned the horses towards the city, speaking rapidly as he guided them across the long tendrils of fern-haired grass. "Miss Sally, t'is welcome ye'are. Lady Dorothy 'as tried 'er best for Rel, but still, she gets sickens. Th'arm is red w'infection and 'er fevers are getting worse. Lady Dorothy fears poison of th'blood but she 'as worked 'erself t'exhaustion, barely sleeping so as t'take care 'of 'er foster sib." When Sally glanced sharply at him, he nodded in brief assent. "She's been takin' ril to stave off sleep, Miss Sally."

"She must rest or the ril's toxins will do irreparable damage to her nerve endings," Sally murmured, "Does she sleep now?"

"Aye, last night when we received message of yer comin."

Sally nodded once, "And Lady Relena needs my help now." She urged them faster towards the stone city, dismissing Heero's greeting with a quick inclination of her head and a smile. "Dispense with formalities with me, my Lord. I am no Lady." Turning back to Odin, she demanded swiftly, "How much longer to the capital, Preventor Lowe?"

"Soon, ma'am." Sally said no more, lost in thought as she glanced through the medication and surgical tools in her bag to make sure that all was in order.

As soon as they reached the courtyard, she grabbed her black case and hiked the swirling hem of her healer's robe higher, walking rapidly towards a frantically waving Hilde. For a second, she hesitated, glancing back at her lathering horse but Midii had already dismounted, taking both the animals in hand. She glanced at Sally briefly before, a single, laconic word fell from her lips in a crisp command.

"Go!"

Sally wasted no more time, and turned to run into the Imperial mansion, taking the wide steps two at a time as she busily shouted orders to the waiting Preventors that hovered hesitantly at the top of the stairs. They all scattered in her wake like rabbits in the face of a coming typhoon, doing her bidding without question. Heero sat atop Wing, watching silently as she efficiently marshaled the Sanq warriors to do different tasks for her, sending Hilde to find a cauldron from the kitchen and Duo to procure some water from the well. To Quatre she gave a syringe, directing him to give Dorothy a dose of medicine to mitigate the affect of ril before she disappeared out of sight, walking down the long, stone corridors. Soon afterwards, he heard the door open and slam shut, the loud bang causing a few startled birds outside of Relena's window to take flight.

Thoughtfully, he dismounted, leading his horse after the one that Odin had called Midii. Were all women so imperious or was it only those born of the Sanq? And why would a mere healer command so much respect from these Preventor warriors...as a matter of fact, why would she be able to command them at all? Things did not seem to be adding up completely.

How strange.

Tbc.

* Ril: a stimulant that induces adrenaline flow to the brain and can be used in the short term to reduce the need for sleep. When used too long, exhaustion works with the drug to make toxins in the body and eventually, the user becomes addicted heavily to the drug or dies

* Aknavet l'ashralan: Welcome, honored one

* There are degrees of respect amongst those of the Sanq. Two fingers to the forehead means one of equal rank, three fingers means that the person you are paying respect to is of higher rank than you, four fingers is only to nobility, and five fingers is reserved only for the Prelate herself.

AN: that's that....Don't worry, this does not mean that I'm going to kill Relena now. Although...angst does have its merits...*thinks thoughtfully* hmmm...tee hee. ^____^ love you guys! Sorry for the previous crap-chap! I think this one is a little better and it works with my plotline a bit more. Ah...all my little pawns...er...characters are finally all in place. *smiles evilly* alrighty then!!!

Major thanx to Kristine, who *ahem* FORCED me to keep on writing this when I wanted to give up and is helping me get everything into order and helping me deal with thousand and one subplots that are just about to begin. -_-;; *mumbles again* I feel so much like a carpet....