Two, of Diamonds

Chapter Two
Communique

[Author's Note: Almost all of this chapter takes place after episode nine of G Gundam, with references to events of that ep (in George's email); Spoilerish for that ep.| I don't know what France's Gundam was for the 12th Fight, so I made one up. ;-] | This chapter is liberally sprinkled with HoND references. The ending conversation between Jehan and George is what is known as sleep-deprived stream-of-conscious writing. ^_^; Uh, and it's not my fault Jehan has taken up Clopin's mercurial personality. At least I think it isn't. O.o]

[Dedicated to the Clopin fans and all the readers of my previous fanfic obsession! ^_^]

F.C. 60. Paris, France
Jacques stood outside the door of Jehan's room, studying the cracks and chipped gray paint with more interest than necessary. Paquette had asked him to talk to the boy, but he wasn't sure there was anything he could say. He counted the scratches on the lintel twice then finally knocked. When there was no answer, he opened it himself. The room was empty...but the closet door was ajar. Jacques narrowed his eyes, crossing the area in two strides. He nudged the closet open farther with one foot.
It was empty as expected. He sighed and stepped inside, pulling the door closed after him. He didn't need light to find the certain indentation that triggered a hidden panel to swing out into the tunnel beyond. He did need to duck down to fit through the opening, however. The tunnel was lit by primitive sconces placed about seven feet apart on the right-hand wall. He followed them along the gently sloping path, keeping an eye out for cracks in the stone walls and ceiling. Here, they were much more important than any warped door.
He had just stepped off the incline when the sound of wood hitting rock came out from a doorway leading to yet another tunnel. This time he cleared the portal with a meter to spare. A little ways down this second, larger tunnel, Jehan was beating the hell out of a defenseless lump of stone that might have been a statue at one time. It hadn't been much of a sculpture when Jacques first saw it soon after he moved in, and was only slightly less so after Jehan's administrations with a solid but battered halberd with no blade. The older man frowned and walked right over to the boy without being noticed. Jehan was too busy timing swing after swing at the rock, striking the target yet applying only enough force to draw a sound; he pulled back before the recoil of the staff reached his arms.
Jacques plucked the halberd from his hands on a back swing.
The youth cast a disgruntled look at him, knowing who it was. Only two other people knew of that place, and one would never have dared to touch one of the ancient weapons stashed there. "You said I could use that one," Jehan muttered sullenly.
"In place of a quarter staff, not as a bludgeon!" Jacques studied the the newly added dents and scratches along the halberd's length. "What has you so worked up, anyway? You keep skipping performances. You've been hiding down here more often. Jehan, you're worrying your Mama. And we can't afford for you to keep behaving like this." Jacques frowned at him pointedly. The youth looked away, his ears turning red.
"You -- You know what's bothering me!" Jehan finally replied with vitriol. He snuck a glance over at the older man, then quickly pretended he had been glaring at the wall the entire time.
All the same, Jacques had to think for a few moments, checking through a mental time line. His frown remained as the answer came up. "Jehan...that was almost a month ago already. The government has said they'd look into rebuilding the tower."
"They said that about the Louvre, too!"
Jacques cleared his throat, staring off toward a corner. "Yes, when they've completed the replicas."
"Hmm. Too bad they don't have the original set of replicas." Humor entered Jehan's voice. He rocked up on his toes then back on his heels, now glancing into the next tunnel entrance, where, from that angle, one could see an old weapon's rack and the gilded edge of a painting's frame. He leveled a smirk at the older man.
"Kept them from being smashed, didn't it?" Jacques grinned back at him.
Jehan dropped the smirk. "If only the colony would be so generous as to return the orginals." The chill in his tone made Jacques' grin fade.
"Jehan..."
"Do you think the glorious Napoleon Gundam would have been so careless if the originals had been there?!" His hands closed into fists.
"Jehan! There is more to this than you're letting on."
The youth's face fell. His tone softened. "Papa...please just leave me alone for a while..."
Jacques' eyebrows shot upward into his hairline. "You haven't called me that in ages. Something really is bothering you." There was silence for a moment, then Jacques held the halberd out toward the boy. "Just...be careful. Don't hurt yourself."
Jehan glanced him over, then offereed a small smile as he took the battered weapon and nodded.

Elsewhere, a few miles away and two stories above ground, in a room with finer furnishings and fresher air drifting through white lace curtains and over plush burgundy carpetting, George de Sand reclined in a high-backed armchair as he read over a partial email displayed on the computer built into the desk before him. His hands rested at the base of the keyboard, poised to type more.

Dear Miss Maria-Louise,
No doubt you have heard of my battle with Neo England's Gentle Chapman via the fight signal registry. I am not ashamed of what the reported outcome was. I would like to provide you with a few more details. There is...something of a notice for the quality of future Gundam Tournaments.
When Raymond and I arrived in London, we were graciously received and Monsieur Chapman responded as I expected when I issued a challenge. Yet, the honorable duel I had been looking forward to became a nightmare of tricks, surprise attacks, and more failure than I was prepared for. However, I assure you that this knight was able to recover from that battle, which ended in forfeit: Msr. Chapman retreated at the last moment, rather than destroy Gundam Rose's head. Our Gundam Rose may have been damaged, but I am grateful to say we are still in the Fight.
Monsieur Domon Kasshu and Miss Rain Mikamura happened to be in London at the same time, and, as a doctor, Miss Rain professionally tended the wounds I received during the fight. As you can guess, Msr. Domon was intent on challenging Msr. Chapman. While he had seen the condition I was in, I also warned him, describing the manner of ambushes by decoy mobile suits and the insidious fog that jammed Gundam Rose's visual feed and other sensors. I could not find the words to describe Msr. Chapman's disturbing behavior.
I later discovered why the gentleman was not himself. Four years of Gundam Tournaments had taken their toll on his body and mind. With both failing, he was taking medication to assist. Unfortunately, it removed his rationale and he became a ruthless beast...
Yet he was also supported by his wife, Miss Manon. It was her idea to use "fog" to scramble an opponent's cameras, and also to confuse an adversary with numerous dummy suits.
I regret that I could not have a true battle against Msr. Chapman, but I believe the final outcome was for the best. Msr. Domon ultimately defeated him, putting an end to not only his reign of Gundam Champion, but to his suffering as well.
I bear no ill will toward Miss Manon. She spoke to us of her wish during the past years to aid Msr. Chapman in anyway she could, and in her eyes the way was to help him continue to win -- by any means.
George studied the far wall for a few minutes, knowing he wanted to write additional comments, and waiting for the words to come to him. He frowned when he realized the difficulty lay in actually typing them out; hence, he took his time pecking at the keys.
There was something else she spoke of after Msr. Chapman's defeat...a warning to Domon and I, and could be perceived to include Miss Rain as well. She said, "Take a good look. This could happen to you some day."
It was Domon who emphasized, "The fate of a warrior."
Miss Manon's reply is on my mind at this very moment.
"However, it is also within your power to avoid this fate."
As I await the final repairs on Gundam Rose, I cannot help but consider her words. I believe that in part it means I need to gain more strength to overcome the challenge of the Gundam Fight, as well as acquire more power to deal with the adversity of fighting.
He sat back, rethinking the last comment. He had a vaguely unsettling feeling, but quickly let it pass.
I hope all is well with you and our Neo France colony.
Sincerely, George de Sand
He closed the message and sent it on its way. It would likely be a few hours before he received a response. He shifted in the chair to gaze out the window. The sky was dotted with few clouds and the air was very clear. Not at all like London on that day...

There came a knock, then Raymond's voice, muffled by the closed door. "Your tea, Master George..?" The gundam fighter had lain down on the chaise lounge by the fireplace intending to rest his mildly sore ribs for only a few moments, but it seemed he had dozed off in the meantime. Slightly abashed, George hurried to his feet and crossed to the door. "Yes, Raymond, thank you." The butler smiled as George held the door open for him, entering and carrying a tea tray over to the desk.
"How are you feeling, Master George?"
"Better. I think I have had enough rest." George nodded and accepted the saucer and full cup Raymond offered.
"Very good, sir. I'm happy to report your Gundam Rose is completely repaired and ready when you are, as am I, for your next choice of battle."
George nodded again, pondering just what that choice should be as he took a sip of the drink. "Raymond, have any gundams been seen around France's borders, or headed toward France?"
"I can check for you now, sir." The butler sat right down at the desk and booted up the computer, typing in the search parameters when it was ready. "Hmm. Not in the last few days. May I suggest preparing to travel, sir?" The gundam fighter thoughtfully studied the bottom of the cup through the tea. The computer beeped. "Oh. There is mail here for you, Master George. It's from Miss Maria-Louise."
George looked up, his pensive expression lightening as he came over to look. Raymond hopped up from the chair, then sidled away so George could read the email in private. But after only a few seconds he touched the 'print' command and stood up again. "Raymond, I'm going for a little stroll. I will have made a decision upon my return."
"Very good, sir. Enjoy." The butler smiled and collected the tea tray, leaving the one cup for George to finish before his walk.


My dear George de Sand~
I did indeed hear of the incident in London. I have been very concerned for your safety, and I am grateful for your recovery. I have no doubt you would have triumphed in a fair fight against Msr. Chapman.
To my eyes, you already have all the strength and power you need to win. Believe in yourself, in your brave, noble heart, and you will win all, my dear knight.
George smiled weakly up at the sky as he closed his hand around the printed email. "Your words are pretty, princess, yet I am not sure you can completely understand what I mean..." He then folded the paper into quarters without reading the rest, put it in his pocket, and continued on his way down a thoroughfare lined with small shops advertising one type of food or another. One for produce, one for fish, one for meats, one for pastries...and all with additional stands outside displaying bouquets of roses.
George's smile softened. He came to a halt outside the pastry shop and leaned closer to their display, inhaling the sweet scent of the peach Osiana roses. The bell over the shop's door jangled as someone exited, but he did not look up, a bit intoxicated by the heavier scent of the Carnival Queen bouquet, their petals white with dark pink edges.
"Well, well," a male voice said sourly, "You again. Where's your princess today, knight?"
George turned his head, shocked at the rude behavior of someone native to France. But wait, this person is--! The young street performer. George hadn't seen him since the night they were accosted by the three scoundrels. "Monsieur Jehan."
The youth only frowned at him, adjusting his grip on a large paper bag full of bread loaves.
George straightened, casually flipping his cape back behind his shoulder. "I take it your question is sincere?" No answer, besides a hard stare. "Well then. If you must know, she...has returned to the colony."
The hesitance in his voice made Jehan waver. His expression lightened. George could have sworn he saw sadness in the youth's eyes, but it was gone in a blink.
"Jehan!! We're finished!!" The feminine yell came from the direction of the produce market. The knight turned to see the young girl from the performance and a woman around Jehan's age with the same complexion as the girl, both carrying a full armload of heavy-looking grocery bags.
George stepped toward them, holding his hands out. "Mademoiselles, allow me--" The younger girl dodged around him to Jehan, placing the bags at his feet then accepting the bag of bread from him.
The older girl glared at George from the corner of her eyes as she walked past. "We don't need your help, knight. Don't soil your gloves on our account."
"Emiline," Jehan scolded quietly. He looked George over with the critical eye of a connoisseur. "...Give him your bags, Emiline." She spun on him in outrage. He held up a hand to stop the oncoming protest. "One bag, then." She frowned, but ungraciously dumped the heaviest bag into George's waiting arms.
Jehan smirked. "Franchesa, Emiline, I'd like to introduce Monsieur George de Sand. Monsieur de Sand, these are my sisters." He picked up the last two bags. "Thank you for your assistance. If you'll follow me..."
Franchesa immediately skipped ahead, singing out, "Lala lala-lali-lala!" Her enthusiastic hopping carried her to the end of the street and into a quick left turn.
Emiline raced after her. "Franchesa! Slow down!"
Jehan chuckled. "Don't mind Emiline. It wasn't personal."
George merely glanced over at him, too absorbed in his thoughts to offer a reply. Something along the lines of, I should be on my way to my next Gundam fight, or at least practicing for it, not carrying around groceries, was going through his mind just then. Still, one should always assist a lady.
"So," Jehan spoke up with an abrupt change of tone, his eyes downcast, "Princess Maria-Louise is back on the colony. I suppose that means you won't be seeing her for a while."
"I...Y-Yes, that is true." The full implications suddenly hit him; he hadn't realized just how pleasant it was to be greeted by Maria-Louise's congratulations each time he returned from a fight. This was something new to consider...
Jehan glimpsed the newly formed thoughtfulness on George's face and gave a wry smile. Softly he said, "Well, monsieur knight, perhaps you can now understand my feelings a little better. I'm sure you remember our last meeting."
"Certainly. You assaulted me when you found out I was a Gundam Fighter. I was deeply offended, for all citizens should support their representative in the Tournament. Yet I wondered what caused the reaction." George nodded to him. "It has something to do with your friend on the colony, doesn't it?"
Jehan took a deep breath then exhaled. "Her name is Melisande L'Marlon. She used to live here on Earth, but her parents had been wanting to move to the colony. They just needed one good..." His voice hardened. "...excuse." He clenched his jaw for a moment, then continued, "She and I met when we were twelve years old. The following year was the Gundam Tournament. We...traveled out of the country and went to see a fight. I'm not naming names. There was an accident. The place where we and other spectators were collapsed. But the two gundams kept on fighting, neither aware of what they had done." The youth's face contorted in anger.
"I see," George said quietly, bowing his head in shame. "I...could guess what the outcome of the incident was."
"I had been one of the lucky...But I would have traded places with her in an instant." Jehan squeezed his eyes shut, willing his mind to stop offering up memories of that day. "Her parents insisted on bringing her to the colony for treatment. The last I heard, she was in stable condition." His expression darkened. "That was three and a half years ago."
George glanced over at him as they both kept walking. Now there was indeed sadness in every line of the youth. The gundam fighter knew his own loss was a trifle; the presence of the letter in his pocket suddenly seemed very obvious. Haltingly he asked, "Have you been able to get word to the colony that you wish to know of her latest condition?"
Jehan turned an incredibly sour frown on him. "I'm a street rat, knight. I don't have access to very many resources." The frown then passed as if he regretted lashing out, but he did not apologize. He then turned down an alley shaded by the buildings on either side. Franchesa and Emiline were waiting by a sunken doorway. Franchesa reached for the handle, watching Jehan until he nodded. She then pushed it open, letting Emiline and the men enter, then shutting it silently.
Emiline lead the way past a few more doors, all closed. The floor seemed to slope downward to the forbiding door at the end, which she opened and then continued on, leaving it for Franchesa to close behind them, which she did with a loud finality. Despite trusting in his fighter's instincts, George began to feel somewhat uneasy. The other three remained quiet, moving along the dark stone corridor with habitual ease. The temperature grew colder and there was a hint of dampness on the walls. George wrinkled his nose at the musty smell of air that didn't often get refreshed by a breeze.
They emerged onto a broad staircase. George tightened his grip on the bag in surprise at what lay beyond the bottom of the steps. Jehan shifted his bags to wave one arm around at the scene. "Welcome, monsieur, to the Court of Miracles."
He relinquished the groceries to another man who had approached, then plucked the one from George's arms and handed it to the boy who followed next. Both ignored the tall nobleman. Jehan was amused by the gundam fighter's astonishment at the sheer scope of the cavern with all it's assorted ramshackle housing structures, ranging from faded cloth tents to huts of mismatched wood.
Finally George stammered, "What is this place?"
"It was founded centuries ago by the outcasts of Parisian society, mainly the gypsies who were so often persecuted and wished to find a safe shelter where they could reside." Jehan propped his foot up on a stone and leaned closer, his arm over his knee. He was fond of this speech. "Naturally, others like the povery-stricken and even less savory types such as thieves and murderers came to live there as well. It had been a well-guarded secret for many, many years. Then came the industrial years, and it was forgotten. Then the Gundam Tournament came along.
"More people than ever before found themselves without homes. A man said to be descended from a great gypsy king came to lead them back to the sanctuary of the Court. And here we have stayed for the last sixty years. Some of us have homes aboveground, but we return here to take care of our own."
George looked around again, then said quietly, "I had no idea a place like this existed below France..."
Jehan snorted. "Of course you didn't. Anyone from the colony wouldn't have the faintest idea. It's something they forgot to include in both their design and history books."
"Why did you bring me here?" Georger rested his hand on the pommel of his epee.
Jehan straightened, moving to lean on a pole cemented into the wall. From it hung a purple banner stitched in yellow with decals of a sun, moon, two stars, and a circle with a ring around it. The young man turned his gaze to the side. "You say you are a grand gundam fighter for France, but you don't know everything about her. When next you fight for this country, or for your sense of knighthood, or for the princess' hand -- whatever it is you do -- don't forget the foundations the Tournament is fought on -- the physical foundations of the stone of the Earth."
The youth looked at him now, expression stern. George met his gaze evenly. The bustle of the Court continued around them without pause.
After a few minutes a wry smile creeped onto George's face. "While we are broadening horizons, may I make a request of you?"
Jehan raised an eyebrow. "I suppose you may."
"I implore you to watch a few gundam matches in the coming months. Perhaps you will gain a new perspective other than what you feel you know about them from four years ago."
The youth scowled. "I doubt I'll have time, but...I guess fair's fair. Just don't expect me to be cheering from the sidelines."
George nodded and swept his gaze across the cavern. "I will keep the Court's secret, if you wish...yet I could bring the plight of these citizens to the king's attention to help..?"
"No thank you, monsieur knight," Jehan said coldly. "We gypsies can still manage in our own ways." At George's curious glance, the youth sighed in disgust. "Yes, I'm adopted. There are plenty of orphans here, too. No, I don't care who my real parents were. They can't do anything for me now, unless they were nobl--" He bit down on the inside of his lips, stopping himself from continuing the thought he'd had for a while. He spun to the entranceway with a scowl. "Come on, monsieur gundam fighter, time to go before someone starts throwing mud at those pristine clothes."
George was about to protest the comment, then noticed several people milling at the base of the steps, most of them eyeing him with open hostility. Swallowing back the un-knightlike disappointment at their response to him, he composed himself and followed Jehan with an even, intentionally non-rushed pace.
He remained in a thoughtful silence all the way back to the inner door. He also watched Jehan as the youth walked ahead. He knew that the younger man's hostility did not have the same basis as the rest of his people. George was unsure of how to react to their feelings, but he hoped to diffuse Jehan's anger over the Tournament. "Monsieur Jehan, if I may..?"
The youth paused, his hand on the door's handle. He looked back at George with a neutral expression.
"I'm beginning to understand why you feel as you do, but I hope you will cease blaming all gundams for what happened. I could blame Neo-Japan's fighter for Miss Maria-Louise being sent away, yet--"
"It's not the same thing." Jehan now stood rigid. "The princess was not almost killed."
"She almost was," George said softly. "She was in the path of the falling tower. I risked losing the match to stop it."
Jehan studied him, a faint twitch going across his face at the mention of the Eiffel Tower. Then he sighed. "Sir knight, you're not going to change my mind that easily. Maybe I'll agree to watch a blasted match, but that doesn't mean I dislike those wretched machines any less." With a warning glare he gestured through the opened door, indicating for George to see himself out. George uttered a small sigh of his own and walked out of the catacombs. When he reached the other door, he peeked out, cautious of onlookers, then exited since the area was clear. He mentally marked the alley's position as he made his way back to the main thoroughfare.

Raymond's smiling face met him at the door. "Did you have a pleasant walk, Master George?"
"Yes...it was enlightening. Were there any messages for me?"
"Yes, sir. The Neo-Ireland fighter has issued a challenge. He will arrive tomorrow. There is also a challenge from a fighter in Shinjuku, Japan."
"Japan? Domon Kasshu??"
"No, it is from a man who happened to be in that area, the champion of the Twelfth Fight, pilot of the Kowloon Gundam, Master Asia."
George was floored. The Master Asia had sought him out for a match? A smile crossed the knight's face. Gentle Chapman had not been able to provide a true duel, but surely the champion of the last Tournament would offer better. "I will answer Ireland's challange, then we will travel to Shinjuku."
Raymond bowed. "I will see to the preparations, sir."
"Thank you." George nodded and headed for his study. There he sent an acceptance notice to the signals from Neo-Ireland and Shinjuku. Then he began to type a new email to Maria-Louise. When he reached the end he thought for a moment, then added more.

I have a request for you, if it is possible at all. I met a citizen who is searching for a friend of his residing in Neo-France. Her name is Melisande L'Marlon. I don't have much information other than she was injured in an accident during a match in the last Gundam Tournament. Please be as discreet as possible if you can look into this matter at all.
He wasn't sure how much she would be able to do from her position, but then, she had successfully sneaked out of the palace here. There was also the chance that he and Jehan would not cross paths again, but somewhere inside George found that doubtful.


Coming Next: Two, of Diamonds: Chapter Three: Common Ground


Back to the G Gundam Shrine



(c) 2004 Autumn Loweck. This work may not be copied, distributed, or reprinted without the author's permission. Characters of Jehan, Paquette, Franchesa, Jacques, Andry, Robuert, and Damek are property of Autumn L. (aka Shiri) and may not be "borrowed" or mentioned in other works without notifying the author first. The Court of Miracles is from Disney's/Victor Hugo's The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Characters of Maria-Louise, George de Sand, Raymond, Gentle Chapman, Manon, Domon Kassshu, Rain Mikamura and the mechs Gundam Rose, Shining Gundam, and John Bull Gundam belong to the creators of the G Gundam series, Sotsu Agency, Sunrise, Bandai, and whoever else in Japan involved in this most cool anime.