7A/N: I told myself that I wouldn't start posting it until the first draft was completely finished, but lucky for you, my lovely readers, I decided to start posting as I rewrite for the motivation to actually do so. Gundam Wing, however dear it is to my heart, doesn't belong to me. I merely play with its characters and make them properly hate me for what I put them through. So without further ado, please enjoy this first chapter and those that come after.
Dragon and Phoenix
Chapter One
Long Mountain
To be perfectly honest and terribly plain, Treize wasn't sure what had hit him. Actually, that wasn't entirely true. The Gundam Nataku had hit him, and to devastating effect. Which meant that he should have been dead, his last memory being closing his eyes as he watched 05's Dragon Fang arm coming for him as if in slow motion, bringing death to his willing arms.
But unless this was some strange afterlife, and the little jolts of pain Treize felt as he shifted argued that it wasn't, he'd survived. Somehow. And for all his knowledge and experience in warfare and piloting and crash statistics, he had no idea how. Landing hadn't been in his plans.
Treize slowly pushed himself to his feet, sucking air through clenched teeth as his injuries clearly declared themselves in protest to the movement. He got upright only through sheer stubbornness, legs trembling as they fought to keep him that way long enough to take proper stock of his surroundings and at least figure out where he'd landed.
He was on Earth, that was immediately obvious. The old growth trees clinging to a sloping mountain ground could exist nowhere else. Even if any of the remaining colonies were old enough to play host to such plants, they wouldn't be able to spare the space for a forest like this, reaching up towards the heavens and blocking all but a few stars from view. Which was a pity on its own. The sky could have given him a hint had it been more visible. And unfortunately, for all of his love of roses, Treize was no botanist to be able to look at the plants around him and tell instantly where in the world they all intersected. No, there would be no hints while he stood there.
The general sighed and ran a hand down his face, idly noting a line of blood soaking through his glove from a particularly tender spot near his hairline. That explained the pain, not quite right to just be the ache of a migraine. Well, not just a migraine. It came as no surprise though. Even if his survival had been a miracle, surviving completely unscathed from a Gundam fight was simply impossible. And as it was, he felt like one giant ache.
The bruising in his ribs was a given, but careful pressure on each surprised him with the fact that none of them felt broken. And neither did any of his other bones. But he hadn't escaped the shrapnel, not entirely. Little pieces had gone right through many parts of his uniform, catching on torn cloth even as he searched them out.
Treize carefully tugged his gloves off, just as gingerly removing his ascot and feeling along his exposed neck until he could get a hold on the tiny shard of wreckage that'd lodged in soft skin, a scant inch from hitting his carotid artery. He'd been lucky in every step of this, he knew. He drew a slow breath and pulled on it until it started to come free, hand pressing over the wound immediately to stop any more bleeding. Passing out from more blood loss at this stage would likely be fatal. Treize had been planning to die today, it was true, but in battle. Not here.
Biting the soft cloth of his ascot, he used his teeth to tear it into two strips to wrap snugly around his throat, tucking the ends carefully so they'd stay in place. He could feel other pieces of shrapnel lodged in his skin, but they would have to wait. He needed to find civilization, or a safe place to camp failing that. And a stream so he could wash out the wounds.
Without anything to go off of, Treize decided on a direction and started walking. If he kept going in a straight line, he'd find something, whether it was a road or the edge of a cliff. Either way, he could follow it.
Progress was slow as Treize carefully judged each step for objects or holes that could be in his path and where there were trees and branches he could use to help support himself. But he refused to just sit because of something as minor and ignorable as pain. He kept his ears tuned to the woods around him for predators drawn to the scent of blood, putting every sense to work to keep him alive.
That attention was how he noticed the rustle of leaves that couldn't be accounted for as wind. He wasn't alone. Treize stopped, turning slowly as he searched the shadows. Where are you..?
He felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise before he heard the growl. And one of those deep, dark shadows he'd dismissed... moved. Fast.
Barely taking time to register the size of the creature or the way that moonlight reflected off of dark scales, Treize threw aside his cautious steps and ran. He didn't look back, barely able to hear the heavy footsteps pounding behind him as it gave chase over the sudden pounding of his own heart.
The general hissed as he stumbled into a thick briar bush, thorns catching the thick wool of his uniform and holding him fast. The more he struggled, the more it caught hold of him. And his pursuer sped closer with every second. Treize twisted his head around, his eyes going wide as he at last got a glance at what had been chasing him, far too late.
The long, sinuous form of a Chinese dragon couldn't be mistaken for anything else, even when only glimpsed in patches of light. It was black, the size of a small horse, and coming for him. Treize gritted his teeth as it leapt, mentally preparing himself for a bloody, messy end.
It never came.
At the last second, a whistle rang out in the night and the dragon (how strange to think he'd escaped one in name to be chased by another in flesh) twisted to miss him, kicking off of a tree trunk to jump the other way and vanish back into the shadows.
Heart racing, he looked around for the source of the life-saving whistle. It didn't sound like an animal, or a mechanical whistle. That voice had been human.
He began to slowly pry his uniform from the thorns, grimacing as they raked over his hands and tore at his skin further. But he was alive. For now.
Treize was just finishing freeing himself when someone walked into view, impossible to miss even in the darkness, that same dragon following close behind in a slouch that screamed pout even in a mythological animal's body. Black hair pulled back into a loose tail, a white Chinese robe that seemed to glow in the moonlight, and his face... Wufei?
No. The man in front of him was too old, even if the annoyed expression aimed at him was eerily similar to the young pilot's. The same dark eyes, the slant of his jaw similar to what Treize imagined 05's would have matured into once he lost his baby fat. A distant relative perhaps, one who had never left for the stars.
Not that his rescuer looked any more pleased to see him than his dragon had ever been, pointing firmly to the woods behind them with a clear word of command before turning towards Treize again and stalking towards him with all the temper and grace of an enraged panther. The black beast didn't move though, watching both humans curiously, more kitten than threat. The sudden change was startling. But not as much as the anger with which his rescuer approached.
"What are you doing here?" the man growled, glaring furiously. Perhaps mother bear was just as appropriate of a metaphor for him as panther, with the way he moved between Treize and the dragon. "You're trespassing where you are not welcome."
"I apologize," Treize said, dipping his head in a shallow bow. He was far from being a humble man, but neither was he a fool. Just by being here, he'd upset this stranger, and he still needed his aid. "I didn't intend to crash land here. If I can get medical assistance, I'll depart as soon as possible."
"This mountain is a no fly zone," the other snapped. He narrowed his eyes and stepped closer, squinting at Treize's face. What he saw made him freeze dead in his tracks, face growing pale. "Impossible..."
The Wufei look-alike stumbled back, denial written all over his face, and Treize reached out to catch him before he could fall. His rescuer hitting his head would not improve the situation, not when he had been the one able to control the dragon.
"No!" the young man shouted, flinching back from Treize's outstretched hand. He grabbed the dragon by the fur that grew up around its back, pulling it back with him. "Don't touch me!"
The general withdrew his hand, holding both up to show that he intended no harm. "I won't hurt you. Either of you," he said, keeping his words even as he tried to figure out what had set the other off. "I'm not quite sure how I offended you, but it was unintentional. You have my apologies. Can you tell me how to get to the road?"
"What does a dead man need with directions? I don't need you haunting me here, bastard!"
Treize stopped, that familiar insult striking a memory. It couldn't be. Yes, they looked alike, but 05 had only just turned fifteen when they faced each other in battle. The young man in front of him was no teenager. Yet...
"Don't just stand there staring," he snapped, glaring at Treize with such familiar passion. "Answer me dammit! Why are you here?!"
Slowly, Treize smiled, adrenaline starting to drop as an odd calm took him over. How fitting, for the young man to protect a dragon. "Chang Wufei. I didn't intend this to be part of our battlefield. Forgive me for this carelessness."
And darkness closed in. He didn't even feel himself hit the ground.
