DIE UPON A KISS - ACT I

DIE UPON A KISS

A GUNDAM WING FIC BY SANDRA DERMARK

BASED UPON SHAKESPEAREAN WORKS

Act Zero: The Play and Cast.

DIE UPON A KISS

A RETELLING OF SHAKESPEARE’S OTHELLO

REWRITTEN BY SANDRA DERMARK

Dramatis personae (that is, cast):

Othello: Zechs Merquise, né Milliardo Peacecraft

Desdemona. Lucrezia Noin

Iago: Treize Khushrenada

Emilia: Lady Une

Cassio: Quatre Raberba-Winner

Bianca: Dorothy Catalonia

Random Catholic Priest: Duo Maxwell

Random Waitress: Catherine Bloom

Random Waiter/Roderigo: Trowa Barton

Setting: Random outpost cut off from the outside world.

Act One: A Wedding, A Promotion, And A Complicated Scheme

Leaves that all the summer
Gave us cool and shade
What will be left of them
When our bonfire's made ?

The doors of the chapel were firmly shut, and Treize, who had chosen not to attend the ceremony, was listening to the baroque hymns that were sung within. He personally relished all that German chanting. But, no matter what, he couldn’t forget last week’s trauma.

It was a tête-à-tête in Zechs’s office, considering the general’s choice of an aide-de-camp, or right-hand man. The curtains were drawn and a ray of light was cast on the veteran’s inexpressive face. He was sure he was the man for the post. But then, Zechs stood up, looked at Treize with those steely eyes of his and told him coldly:

“Pardon me, Khushrenada, but I have already chosen my officer.”

“And prithee, who is that officer?”

The response made Treize nearly faint with shock. “Quatre Winner”. The other candidate. The adorable-looking one, who never had proved his worth on the battlefield, yet read and owned so many books on military history and tactics. That position was made for Treize. And if that stripling of a usurper thought himself worthy, he would have to pay the price.

“I do”, Treize heard Zechs through the shut door, since he was the bridegroom.

“I do”, the bride replied.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife”, Reverend Maxwell concluded before the kiss segued into the hymns again.

One hour later, the doors opened and the newlyweds left the chapel. Zechs, wearing his mess uniform with the sword and epaulets; and the bride in a white empire waist gown that contrasted with the color of her hair and eyes.

“Lucrezia Noin”, thought Treize.

They were followed by Quatre, who had been the best man, and then by the rest of the congregation, their best wishes being made to the newlyweds. Treize felt a warm hand on his right shoulder and pretended to be listening. It was Lady Une, his own wife, for whom he cherished no feelings: theirs was a marriage of convenience, and he wasn’t pleased with women. Something unknown to Une, who, like everyone else in that secluded outpost, saw Treize as the reliable kind.

A scheme without possible failure had been hatched upon listening to those baroque hymns, and Treize would make his move that evening, during the wedding celebrations, because it had been disposed that Quatre would be on guard duty...