Gundam SEED/Destiny: Yzak birthday fic
Title: Just the Two of Us
Characters:: Yzak Jule, Ezaria Jule
Rating: G
Word Count: 976
Summary: Yzak comes home to a special treat from his mother. (Strictly fluff, slightly AU)
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam SEED/Destiny nor its characters. They belong to Yoshiyuki Tomino and Sunrise.
One month onboard a ship seeing the same faces and talking of the same things, reviewing charts and maps in clockwork monotony, one dull month patrolling the placid stillness of space wasteland bored Yzak Joule to tears, to that kind of lethargy one gets when he sits too long under the shade of a tree on a hot and quiet summer day.
This was compulsory immersion, a requirement for advancement to senior year at the Academy. A necessary bore.
It was thus unsurprising that, upon docking at Aprilius City, Yzak practically skipped down the ramp of the Monterey; that he ran to meet his waiting mother at the terminal lobby; that he started conversation with her - a first, since Ezaria had always baited the unsociable boy in, always to his reluctance
Lounging in the spacious backseat of the limousine, he turned to her and asked, “Mother, is the territory between L3 and L4 under PLANT control?”
She blinked, her eyebrows lifting in question. “It’s not, but we maintain a strong presence because the Mendel colony attracts radicals. Why do you ask?”
Yzak frowned at the answer. “Nothing. It’s just that we spotted not a single ship during the entire duration of the patrol.”
Ezaria’s concern dissolved into a smile. “If there were any radicals around, they’d certainly hide from patrols.”
“But you just said --”
“I said it attracts, but I didn’t say there actually were.” She laughed softly. “You need to listen more, Yzak dear. It makes for good conversation.”
He wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Sadly, my skills have declined from disuse as there was nothing but stupid gossip and hearsay onboard. I chalk it up to a mild form of space madness.”
She uttered a mild tsk. “That’s a shame. I would’ve loved to hear what the plebeians gossip about.”
Appalled, he goggled at her. “Mother!”
Ezaria dimpled in delight. “Oh Yzak, I do enjoy shocking you. But you must know that I value every bit of information I hear. Information is power.”
“The wrong information can ruin you.”
“Are you implying I don’t know what’s right and wrong?” She raised an eyebrow.
“It’s not that! I --” Yzak reddened and quieted down. He could never win an argument with his mother.
Another laugh escaped her and she settled deeper into the plush leather. “I can see you’re concerned. It’s quite touching. But don’t worry about me.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it lightly. “Anyway, I’ve a surprise for you at home.”
“At home?” Yzak echoed. It was then he noticed she wasn’t wearing the severe Council uniform. Instead, a dark houndstooth-patterned suit clung to her slender frame. “Aren’t you working?”
“Working? Don’t be silly. Not when I’m seeing my only son after a month. ” She patted his hand. “Now relax. I know you’ve had a long trip.”
Relaxing never came easy while one waited for Ezaria Joule’s surprises. Yzak knew his mother well enough to hedge at her idea of a surprise.
The limousine pulled into the wide paved driveway and they disembarked. Ezaria led the way to the house, a fidgety Yzak behind her. He followed her into the foyer, past the grand staircase, the morning room, and the cedar-lined study. Down the grand hallway with its marble statues and oil paintings of flowers and long-dead ancestors. They turned right, away from Ezaria’s private study and French doors that opened onto the garden, and towards the dining room. As they neared, the smell of baked meat and herbs and fresh hot apple pie assailed his nostrils.
Savoring the scents, Yzak realized how much he’d missed a home cooked meal. Ship food actually disgusted him. He just convinced himself otherwise during the course of the patrol lest he die of self-induced starvation
Ezaria threw the dining room doors open and Yzak’s mouth dropped open in astonishment at the sight that welcomed him. On the long silk-draped table a plethora of dishes covered every space possible. Steaming bowls of mixed vegetables, baked fish, an assortment of steak and sweetbreads, twirly pasta blanketed with bubbly cheese, two sides of beef and a stack of baby back ribs, pies and gelatin and fruit salad - enough food to feed the two of them and their nine servants three times a day for the next two weeks.
He turned to his mother, groping for words.
“Is this... Uh. Where’s the charity?” Yzak blurted out, knowing his mother’s fondness for such things.
“Charity?” She repeated, obviously baffled. “What do you…Oh!” She eyes sparkled, and she pursed her lips to keep from laughing. “Don’t tell me you weren’t expecting this? It was your birthday two days ago dear. Or did you forget it?”
His eyebrows shot up as he realized he indeed had forgotten. And no one had greeted him because they knew he’d slap their mouths off and happily throttle them.
Looking down at Yzak’s expression, Ezaria raised a hand to her mouth to hide a smile. She stepped forward and mussed his hair.
“So you did forget. But just because you did doesn’t mean I did.”
He looked around in apprehension, as if expecting a flood of raucous loud gluttons to erupt from behind the window drapes and the carved cherry wood chairs. “…You didn’t invite anyone, did you?”
“Knowing how you hate celebrating,” she held a finger up for quiet when he blustered a half-hearted defense. “I’ve been aware of that, and I think I’m partly to blame because of all those parties I organized before - ”
“It’s all right Mother, really -” His cheeks warmed in embarrassment.
“Children’s parties are acceptable till the age of seven, not fourteen.” She smiled ruefully. “This year is different. It’s just the two of us.”
“But --”
Her eyes flashed a friendly warning. “Enough now. Unless you want me to start calling people? They’ve actually been asking about your party.”
He quieted down. “Sorry,” he mumbled, eyes downcast. He hated those parties because of all the rubberneckers and well-wishers who flocked to their home in droves, but he knew she enjoyed organizing them for him. And he appreciated the effort, but the result ---
He jumped when she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek, much to her amusement.
“Don’t tell you’re too old for a birthday kiss? Happy birthday, Yzak dear.”
And miserable, reclusive Yzak Joule, he shook his head slowly and smiled back.
~ end~
Author’s Note: August 8 is Yzak’s birthday! This is belated but my birthday gift for him. I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I did writing! Tell me how I did. Reviews are appreciated. Thank you!
Characters:: Yzak Jule, Ezaria Jule
Rating: G
Word Count: 976
Summary: Yzak comes home to a special treat from his mother. (Strictly fluff, slightly AU)
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam SEED/Destiny nor its characters. They belong to Yoshiyuki Tomino and Sunrise.
One month onboard a ship seeing the same faces and talking of the same things, reviewing charts and maps in clockwork monotony, one dull month patrolling the placid stillness of space wasteland bored Yzak Joule to tears, to that kind of lethargy one gets when he sits too long under the shade of a tree on a hot and quiet summer day.
This was compulsory immersion, a requirement for advancement to senior year at the Academy. A necessary bore.
It was thus unsurprising that, upon docking at Aprilius City, Yzak practically skipped down the ramp of the Monterey; that he ran to meet his waiting mother at the terminal lobby; that he started conversation with her - a first, since Ezaria had always baited the unsociable boy in, always to his reluctance
Lounging in the spacious backseat of the limousine, he turned to her and asked, “Mother, is the territory between L3 and L4 under PLANT control?”
She blinked, her eyebrows lifting in question. “It’s not, but we maintain a strong presence because the Mendel colony attracts radicals. Why do you ask?”
Yzak frowned at the answer. “Nothing. It’s just that we spotted not a single ship during the entire duration of the patrol.”
Ezaria’s concern dissolved into a smile. “If there were any radicals around, they’d certainly hide from patrols.”
“But you just said --”
“I said it attracts, but I didn’t say there actually were.” She laughed softly. “You need to listen more, Yzak dear. It makes for good conversation.”
He wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Sadly, my skills have declined from disuse as there was nothing but stupid gossip and hearsay onboard. I chalk it up to a mild form of space madness.”
She uttered a mild tsk. “That’s a shame. I would’ve loved to hear what the plebeians gossip about.”
Appalled, he goggled at her. “Mother!”
Ezaria dimpled in delight. “Oh Yzak, I do enjoy shocking you. But you must know that I value every bit of information I hear. Information is power.”
“The wrong information can ruin you.”
“Are you implying I don’t know what’s right and wrong?” She raised an eyebrow.
“It’s not that! I --” Yzak reddened and quieted down. He could never win an argument with his mother.
Another laugh escaped her and she settled deeper into the plush leather. “I can see you’re concerned. It’s quite touching. But don’t worry about me.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it lightly. “Anyway, I’ve a surprise for you at home.”
“At home?” Yzak echoed. It was then he noticed she wasn’t wearing the severe Council uniform. Instead, a dark houndstooth-patterned suit clung to her slender frame. “Aren’t you working?”
“Working? Don’t be silly. Not when I’m seeing my only son after a month. ” She patted his hand. “Now relax. I know you’ve had a long trip.”
Relaxing never came easy while one waited for Ezaria Joule’s surprises. Yzak knew his mother well enough to hedge at her idea of a surprise.
The limousine pulled into the wide paved driveway and they disembarked. Ezaria led the way to the house, a fidgety Yzak behind her. He followed her into the foyer, past the grand staircase, the morning room, and the cedar-lined study. Down the grand hallway with its marble statues and oil paintings of flowers and long-dead ancestors. They turned right, away from Ezaria’s private study and French doors that opened onto the garden, and towards the dining room. As they neared, the smell of baked meat and herbs and fresh hot apple pie assailed his nostrils.
Savoring the scents, Yzak realized how much he’d missed a home cooked meal. Ship food actually disgusted him. He just convinced himself otherwise during the course of the patrol lest he die of self-induced starvation
Ezaria threw the dining room doors open and Yzak’s mouth dropped open in astonishment at the sight that welcomed him. On the long silk-draped table a plethora of dishes covered every space possible. Steaming bowls of mixed vegetables, baked fish, an assortment of steak and sweetbreads, twirly pasta blanketed with bubbly cheese, two sides of beef and a stack of baby back ribs, pies and gelatin and fruit salad - enough food to feed the two of them and their nine servants three times a day for the next two weeks.
He turned to his mother, groping for words.
“Is this... Uh. Where’s the charity?” Yzak blurted out, knowing his mother’s fondness for such things.
“Charity?” She repeated, obviously baffled. “What do you…Oh!” She eyes sparkled, and she pursed her lips to keep from laughing. “Don’t tell me you weren’t expecting this? It was your birthday two days ago dear. Or did you forget it?”
His eyebrows shot up as he realized he indeed had forgotten. And no one had greeted him because they knew he’d slap their mouths off and happily throttle them.
Looking down at Yzak’s expression, Ezaria raised a hand to her mouth to hide a smile. She stepped forward and mussed his hair.
“So you did forget. But just because you did doesn’t mean I did.”
He looked around in apprehension, as if expecting a flood of raucous loud gluttons to erupt from behind the window drapes and the carved cherry wood chairs. “…You didn’t invite anyone, did you?”
“Knowing how you hate celebrating,” she held a finger up for quiet when he blustered a half-hearted defense. “I’ve been aware of that, and I think I’m partly to blame because of all those parties I organized before - ”
“It’s all right Mother, really -” His cheeks warmed in embarrassment.
“Children’s parties are acceptable till the age of seven, not fourteen.” She smiled ruefully. “This year is different. It’s just the two of us.”
“But --”
Her eyes flashed a friendly warning. “Enough now. Unless you want me to start calling people? They’ve actually been asking about your party.”
He quieted down. “Sorry,” he mumbled, eyes downcast. He hated those parties because of all the rubberneckers and well-wishers who flocked to their home in droves, but he knew she enjoyed organizing them for him. And he appreciated the effort, but the result ---
He jumped when she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek, much to her amusement.
“Don’t tell you’re too old for a birthday kiss? Happy birthday, Yzak dear.”
And miserable, reclusive Yzak Joule, he shook his head slowly and smiled back.
~ end~
Author’s Note: August 8 is Yzak’s birthday! This is belated but my birthday gift for him. I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I did writing! Tell me how I did. Reviews are appreciated. Thank you!