Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I probably never will. If everyone knows that, why do I have to write it?

"Dorothy!" Releena grabbed Dorothy's wrist, quickly bandaging her bleeding palm with a handkerchief. Dorothy didn't seem to notice, her face pale and ashen as she stared at her palm with sightless eyes, her lips pressed tightly together in some emotion that Releena couldn't quite identify. "Dorothy, are you all right?" Releena pressed the kerchief tightly against the shard wounds to stop the seep of red blood that was already soaking through the thin material of the cloth.

Dorothy suddenly winced, jerking her hand back instinctively from the pain before she glanced at Releena. Noticing the concern in her eyes, Dorothy forced a smile, thin lipped and definitely dangerous as her blue eyes glittered with flinty anger. "I'm fine, Miss Releena. A little stunned for a moment, nothing more." She turned her gaze on the distressed butler, asking pleasantly, "Is there any lead on what might have happened?"

Pagan shook his head, "The pilot told us that he was coming back on a return journey, then static. We've heard nothing from them since. Poor Mr. Quatre..." But Dorothy wasn't listening to him as her mind whirled. Someone had captured Quatre, the holder of many assets and one of the largest ore manufacturing and refining agencies. A ransom perhaps? Or something else...

Dorothy frowned slightly. Miss Releena had done so much to ensure peace, surely it was not another organization bent on world takeover? Dorothy shook her head unconsciously, one brow furrowed. Impossible. Even the delegation of the Western democracies had signed, ratified, and formally agreed to all the operative clauses denoted in the Peace of Nations Doctrine. If they suddenly reneged, they would face the literal wrath of the colonies and the EarthSphere alliance. Something else was going on...

"Excuse me," She said abruptly, turning on her heel to walk out of the room. Her hand groped for the saber hilt that was not there and she gritted her teeth, turning directions to her room. She needed to practice, to train. Ideas came better to her when she fought.

***

She parried, lunging forward in a slashing triple combo before dancing back five steps, arm withdrawn in a defensive posture. The sound of her panting filled the dueling room, hollow, cold. With a snarl, she attacked her imaginary enemy again, saber winding in snakelike grace as her feet slid across the floor soundlessly. The dull gleam of the sword flashed, sharp enough to cut at the shadows that played against the red glow of the dying sun. She danced alone, trying to find the usual exuberance that came with the battle, but finding nothing but emptiness.

With a sigh, she dropped the point of the sword to the floor, her blue eyes snapping in vexation and worry that was otherwise not shown on her face. Why do I care so much? She wiped the sweat from her eyes, her blonde hair plastered to the back of her padded dueling suit. He's an acquaintance of Miss Releena, nothing more. A Gundam pilot that I met a few years ago as a soldier to the White Fang. For a moment, she felt the yearning for those days overpower her like tidal waves.

Things were simpler in war than in peace. As a soldier, there was only time to attack, defend, and respond. There was no need to weigh the good versus the evil, only fight, attack. In peace...peace was an ideal that one had to constantly maintain, the most fragile network of webs and political intrigue that had ever been encountered by man. But even in peace, there was always something that went wrong. Something that made people turn against it, turn to power, to the blood of a sword.

Why? Why did we have to be caught in this again?! We only left this behind! How many more people must die while I live?? Grandfather, what should I do? I don't understand this...this hatred of mankind for its own. Why did they have to take him?? Why do I care?!

There were no answers except for the absent flitting of the shadows against the walls, silent, mocking. Weak...In a fit of fury, Dorothy raised the sword and flung it against the nearest wall, watching it imbed the tip into the scarred wood before clattering to the wooden floor. Like laughter. She could almost feel the gaze of scornful eyes at her back from her lack of control and she stormed over to the sideboard, throwing her mask viciously on the table.

She didn't belong here, not here. It was something that she had known for a long time. Here was a place of peace, untainted with the shadows of the battles that hovered on the fringes of the Kingdom. Even though the Gundam pilots, even though soldiers were stationed like silent sentinels against any threat, they knew their place in this life. A place that stood for guarding the peace that lay as fragile as a blossom against the winter cold.

"But I live for the battle." She whispered opening her fists to gaze at her palm. With the pain had come that assurance. The blood had felt warm, alive, in her hand, as if that was where it belonged. She had killed so many in the battle first for OZ, then against it. It was like life and death were an endless dance around her, even though the waltz was over. She didn't understand herself, her dark side, the side that felt content, happy when she was here or with Quatre. He brought out the joy in her, something that she thought she would never be able to feel. With him, she felt...safe...almost like she felt when she listened to Miss Releena speak. Then, and only then, she knew that this peace was right.

Otherwise, she sought her battles off the fields, learning the mysteries of the saber, then the more dangerous graces of the firearm and archery. She hid herself well. No one knew of her obsession with the battle. They had thought she had grown away from it long ago, but nothing was farther than the truth. She lived for it, breathed it, consumed it with the hunger of one famished. Like a thirst that could only be satiated after years of abstinence, it had only grown within her...

Dorothy hissed, leaning against the table as sweat dried, freezing against the cold air. She didn't belong here...was a danger here. If she ever let that part of her get loose again...well, best not to stay in the Sanq kingdom where it could and would destroy the peace that Miss Releena had worked so hard for. She needed somewhere to go, somewhere where she could regain the peace that had been sorely lacking.

Why does it rear at me now? Dorothy asked, refusing to let despair sap at her energy. Now was a time for action, not cowering. Because...is it because of him? Dorothy's eyes widened. It has to be. Every time I almost lose control, he's been there...one of the only ones that I can actually call a friend. Dorothy glanced around the room that had steadily become her home for more than four years. Four years of peace, four years of hiding.

A small inscription lay engraved in gold above the doorway, one she knew by heart.

Know thyself. Know thy Work and do it. -Thomas Carlyle Past and Present*

It was time to find out who she was, and in doing so, she would have to find the only person that knew her well enough to help her. Dorothy smiled with quiet menace, retrieving her saber and mask as she walked from the room. She needed to leave, to find out who Dorothy Catalonia was. It was time to spread her hawk's wings from the nest of a dove.

"Miss Releena, you'll just have to get along without me for a while," She whispered, eyes gleaming. "Yuy, I'm giving you this chance to keep her safe without me. This time, I have a mission. And I won't fail." With a laugh, Dorothy ducked into her room, switching her accounts and balances so she could withdraw money without anyone tracing it. She packed, taking only the dark clothes that she had worn before she had come to the Sanq Kingdom and her saber, the sun at the window dancing like crimson blood against the blade's edge.

The shadows lengthened, darkened, with the coming of the storm. The wind hushed. It was time to go.

Author's note: Thomas Carlyle is a preacher that I think was an orator during the Second Great Awakening. I just finished reading one of his speeches and they aren't half bad. I especially liked this phrase that he interpreted from the Bible, so I put it in. I hope you enjoyed the story, although it's mostly Dorothy's introverted thinking. And please, give some r&r to tell me if you like it or not. I need to know whether to continue along this vein or not. Thanx!