Blue Eyes - Chapter 31
Jan. 8th, 2004 04:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
itsallovernowAnd it's done, rough and wordy and sentimental. But done. So I'm posting the last chapter all together, because there is an epilogue, and that's not done. I think I need to go into the bathroom and cry now. I feel like I've just had a break up. (And there's still so much work to be done on it, but this is the hardest part, the work and the, oh god can finish it part, and I did. I don't know how, but I did. And I don't have a lot of hope that it's lived up to anyone's expectations, maybe not even my own, but I think, no matter what, I'm proud to have finished it).
Oh, and kids, it's NC-17 in parts.
Chapter 31
They held the ceremony outside in front of the gates of the palace compound. The generator was working again, but the marble halls were chilly and the ruined splendor the palace’s interior was just depressing. Unfortunately, the exterior wasn’t proving much better. The sky was overcast, and rain speckled the ground.
A processional had seemed foolish, but Novia demanded that they follow the traditions, her last recognized act in the service of her people. It embarrassed D’Argo, despite the military traditions of his own culture, all of this pink and gold and solemn oaths while charred remains of buildings and houses smoldered in the distance. Katralla and John were dressed in deep pinks, long red robes covering their thin clothing. D’Argo stood next to Aeryn in the hallway of the palace, waiting for this procession to begin.
They watched as Katralla smoothed the lapel on John’s coat, continued to watch as he gently kissed her forehead. Aeryn shifted her weight slightly, rolling up on the balls of her toes, and D’Argo jostled her arm. “You missed the wedding,” he muttered at her, “so don’t expect a lot of sympathy from me.”
“Oh, shut up,” she growled back at him, still staring straight ahead, watching her daughter. Anix wore a white dress, a silver decoration in her hair and looked decidedly uncomfortable as she tried to keep as far away from Novia as possible. The Empress was in grey, her thin shoulders weary, but her face was set in stone and a pink ribboned medallion hung around her neck. D’Argo wondered how in hezmana they’d managed to preserve those clothes.
Sen had sent down their own ceremonial uniforms, and he looked at Aeryn and wanted to smile in spite of himself. She stood straight and still, tall and unyielding, her dark hair pulled back tightly into a low tail, the silky strands sliding against her leather coat. The black uniform was tight, hugging the curves of her body, exposing the pale skin of her chest and her throat. She looked beautiful, he thought, and more than a little threatening. At this moment, she wasn’t beyond using everything at her disposal to render these people speechless and a little afraid. He didn’t blame her. He was equally tired of the inhabitants of the Royal Planet.
They’d been up all through the night, readying the generator, converting power and shifting it to parts of the burned out city and surrounding towns, and lighting some of the palace. The rest of the time had been spent coercing some of the more vocal, but not mutinous citizens into accepting a role in the new government. The senate had been devastated, a lone senator remaining and he was too old and too lost to be the lone voice of representation. Two men and one woman had finally stepped forward, at the urging of the people, and agreed to serve for a cycle. The proceedings had literally taken all night, arguments and strategizing and they finally had the basis for a government. None of them had slept, and as the arn grew later, exhaustion and anger and tension threading through the crowd, D’Argo had seen John watching Aeryn, his expression closed off, but his eyes tracking her every movement, waiting for her. The waiting proved pointless, time escaping them amidst the flood of things that had to be done.
The new senators looked extremely nervous as they huddled together, fidgeting with their robes, and stealing quick looks back at him and Aeryn as if they were as much of a threat as the Peacekeepers or Scarrans. Aeryn smiled at them evily, baring her teeth and one of them gulped and turned away, knocking into his fellow senator. D’Argo rolled his eyes. “Quit doing that,” he said, and she sighed and stood up even straighter. A horn sounded, and the procession began.
They stood in front of the ragged crowd, rain dotting the ceremonial robes. Katralla shivered and John moved closer to her, put his arm around her shoulders. They took their oaths, pledging loyalty and sacrifice to the people who merely looked weary, hope having lost much of it’s appeal. Novia placed the medallion around her daughter’s neck, transferring her power to the new Empress. She took John’s hand, placed it over Katralla’s and wrapped them together with a white ribbon, a symbol of peace, their duty to rule with that in mind. As if peace was an option now. Aeryn was motionless throughout the ceremony, stock still until Katralla stepped towards her, handing her the declaration of alliance, which she accepted and then moved back next to D’Argo. Then it was over, and scattered applause broke through the sound of rain and rustling bodies, and the people were welcomed inside to celebrate.
D’Argo was amazed at what the citizens of the underground community had come up with. Cakes and breads and festival foods lined the common area. Raslak and fellip nectar and beverages that had undoubtedly been horded throughout the sieges lined the tables, and people filed in to greet the new rulers.
Aeryn stood near the door, watch the mass of people, watching her soldiers and the palace guards edge them into order, and looked up as D’Argo put his hand on her shoulder, and nodded at the door.
“That was absurd,” she said quietly as they made their way through the halls to the hangar.
D’Argo sighed, “But necessary.” She shook her head, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “What if we’re just making things worse, making them an easy target for the next enemy?”
“Aeryn.” He was so tired of this argument. “Don’t let her stay then. If you’re adamant enough, she will come with us.”
She didn’t respond, and then finally said, “ He still doesn’t understand wormholes,” and D’Argo laughed at the ridiculousness. “Does it matter?” he asked. “Will they really help these people, or help us for that matter?”
“I don’t know, but it would be something. It would put us on equal footing. As it is, if Scorpius figures them out…” She let the sentence hang.
“Aeryn,” he said sharply.
“It could be done,” she said, icy death in her voice. “I know it could. I know how.”
“You stopped being an assassin cycles ago,” he said, coming to a stop and grabbing her arm, suddenly alarmed. “We thought you were lost once to this. Don’t…” he tightened his grip. “They aren’t lost to you Aeryn,” he insisted. “John is doing what is necessary, and Anix will be back with us in a cycle. Don’t let go of that.”
The words didn’t feel particularly comforting to him, however. Aeryn nodded, but eyes were bleak and he released his hold on her arm. He wanted to pull her too him, hold onto her like he would Anix, but she wouldn’t allow it, and they had too much to do.
“Let’s go,” she said finally. “They need to leave.” He watched her proceed him as they went to dispatch their troops to the neighboring sector, a process that had begun just a few solar days ago and had been so thoroughly disrupted.
***
He was freezing, and the silk robes itched uncomfortably. He was also tired and irritable and the bones in his hand ached. His head hurt and the bongo set that Harvey had unearthed wasn’t helping any. Anix bumped up against him, looking a little desperate and he gave her a sympathetic nudge, and whispered, “Hang in there kid. I think we can escape soon.”
The room was filled with people, talking and jostling, and most of them didn’t smell so fantastic, due to the lack of running water, and the guards were trying valiantly to maintain some sort of order, but John was just too tired to care. The crowd was oppressive, restless and uncertain and still pretty frelling scared, and he was starting to feel overrun.
Katralla squeezed his hand, Harvey tsked, opening up a bright blue star for him, streaks shooting behind his eyes, and someone thrust a cup into his hand. He knocked back the liquid, and realized that it was heavily alcoholic as it burned down his throat and tingled to the ends of his fingertips. He opened his eyes, throat suddenly tight, and then his chest expanded, and he whistled, “Damn.” Anix raised an eyebrow, looking at him inquisitively, and he shook his head, “Not a chance in hell kid.”
The oppresiveness of the crowd started to fade with the alcoholic buzzing, and he looked around, trying to spot Aeryn in the crowd. He’d about given up, feeling ill with disappointment, when he saw her near the door, head turned in profile, and the noise and the bongos and the chaos stopped, leaving the air crystalline clear while he watched her. Her hair was pulled back tightly, her high cheekbones sharp, the bruise fading but still discoloring her skin. He traced down the long line of her throat, to the tight collared jacket and then gulped. The leather made her look even more feline than usual, sleek and sexual and threatening, and lust slammed into him, fueled undoubtedly by the effects of alcohol on a tired body and an empty stomach, but as she arched her back, rolled her neck a little, he tightened his grip on the cup and fought to get his breathing under control. She turned a little, her features still and drawn, sadness pulling down the corners of her beautiful mouth and she caught his eye, forced a small smile, and he was lost.
He didn’t know what he said, made some lame excuse, handed the cup to someone and slid into the crowd, moving through it like water, easing and edging and nodding appropriately at well wishes and gratuitous thanks as they closed the ranks behind him.
She hadn’t moved, had watched his progression intently, and when he reached her, he didn’t touch her, just opened his mouth, tried to remember how to breath, and followed her as she slipped out the door.
Their footsteps rang in the empty halls, Aeryn walking in front of him, the quick grace of her movements ratcheting up his need for her, his desire, until she rounded a corner. He sped up, grabbing her arm and turning, using her momentum so that they slammed into the wall.
His mouth was on hers instantly, tongues warring, teeth biting, blood and lust and love and warmth as they kissed with desperation. He dug his fingers into her hair, pulling sharply, need pulsing in his nerves, his fingertips and heart and breath. He jerked her head back, exposing her throat, ignoring her small whimper of pain as she clawed at his skull and his shoulders with equal need. He wanted to sob with relief at being able to touch her, but he couldn't stop long enough to do it, his tongue scraping along her neck, teeth scraping at her earlobe, her jaw, her collarbone, reaching for anything sweet and pale and near that he could touch with his mouth.
Her hand went to his chest, stroking over his nipple, and then lying flat over his heart, her palm cool and steady through the thin silk of the shirt. He moaned, his cock tightening at her touch and her hand stole down, squeezing him tightly, almost painfully and he groaned into her ear, the sound plaintive and yearning. He thrust forward into her hand and she found his mouth, kissed him again, cutting his lip with her teeth. He grabbed her hip, the leather slick under his palm, and bucked his hips again and she threw her head back, worldless with need as her hand was trapped between them, knuckles pressing into her sex. Her throat curved as she swallowed back a moan, and he bit the skin, wanting to tasted her wanting to devour her and as she shuddered, his brain turned on again and realized he had to slow things down.
There was no room for subtlety, and his will power was shot. He grabbed her by the shoulders, shoved her back, forcing her into the wall, far enough away so that touching him would be a stretch for her. The loss of her nimble fingers on his cock was enough to make him purse his lips, grunt with frustration, but he needed to just look at her for a minute, touch her and see her and not just fuck her up against the wall.
Her eyes were stormy, pupils dilated and she looked like she wanted to fight as much as she wanted to fuck, but their time was too precious and despite his desperation, he needed to savor her. Her chest was heaving as she tried to catch her breath, and the whiteness of her skin against the tight black leather of the jacket was just too much for him.
He reached out and slowly, notch by notch, edged the zipper down, the sound echoing in the silence, punctuated only by their breathing. She had an impossibly thin tank on underneath, the material delicate, her breasts outlined, nipples hard, the thin smooth skin of her chest looking so soft that he had to lean forward, had to brush his lips over the tops of her breasts, slide his hands under the shirt to encircle her waist. Couldn’t refrain from touching his mouth to the hollow of her throat and all of the desperation flooded away as she cupped his skull, soothing the scratches she had inflicted, and she held onto him in the hallway of this ruined kingdom.
The moment was quiet, a pause from the frantic urgency, but he was still hard, and the press of her breasts, the soft curve of her hip, her scent, the feel of her flesh had done nothing to soften his aching sex, and when he rolled his hips, nudging her with his cock, she growled at him, a sound of pure want and pushed him away. He nodded, and stepped far enough away so that physical contact was impossible.
“Are they gone?” he asked, trying for something that sounded like civility and control. But his voice was murky, and her mouth curved up.
She nodded then, looking at the ground, at his feet, anywhere but in his eyes. “They should be rendezvousing with the other team in a few solar days. They need to resupply, get properly briefed, that sort of thing.”
“And then you’ll go meet them.”
It didn’t really need to be said, they both knew the plan, but she still answered him.
” Yes.”
He reached out to touch her, slide his hand over her cheek, but she turned her head and he let his hand fall to his side.
“Not here,” he agreed regretfully. She bit her bottom lip, and then looked at him shrewdly.
“Tonight.” It wasn’t a request, and she turned to go, but he said her name, letting it catch in his throat.
“Talk to her. Please.”
“I don’t know what to say.’
“Then tell her that. Just. She’s doing everything she can to prove that this is the right decision. That she’s in control of her own life. But she’s scared to death.”
Aeryn looked at him. “Yes,” she said fiercely, “ I know.”
***
She’d gone to the hangar hoping to say goodbye to Atos, who’d gone on with the first wave of soldiers, but when she got there, the hangar was deserted, so she sat down on a bench feeling absurd in her white dress. She plucked the silver ornament from her hair and tossed it onto the table, wondering for the thousandth time since she’d made her declaration if she was doing the right thing.
She heard familiar footsteps, but didn’t look up until she heard the clink of something set down on the bench next to her and her mother sat down, handing her a slim silver container of raslak.
“Since I missed your introduction to the art of intoxication,” she said wryly and Anix looked over at her.
Her cheeks were a little flushed, but she looked like Aeryn, controlled, reserved, focused and it was such a strange comfort that Anix leaned towards her, brushing the shoulder of the leather jacket with her cheek. Aeryn took her hand in hers, lacing the fingers together, something she hadn’t done since Anix was a very little girl.
“This is really what you want?” Aeryn said, but it didn’t sound like a real question.
“I think so,” she answered. “Yes. I want to be in one place for a while. Even if it’s dangerous. I need to figure some things out.”
Aeryn smiled and nodded. “Okay. A cycle, and Teyvn stays, and if anything looks even vaguely threatening you evacuate immediately.”
The conditions had been set two solar days ago, but Aeryn seemed to need to say it aloud.
“Yeah. And I study, and train and stay out of trouble.”
Aeryn laughed. “Yes. And you do what John tells you, unless it just seems absurd.” But she laughed at that too.
“Mother,” she didn’t know exactly what she wanted to ask, maybe what if felt like to leave people behind, but Aeryn had turned to her, eyes glassy and Anix leaned forward, wrapping her arms around her mother and holding on tightly.
“I love you,” Aeryn said, quiet and fierce. “That doesn’t change, Anix. Nothing changes that. Love isn’t that transient. No matter what happens, no matter what I do or you do, or what happens in this kingdom or in this war, I love you. Leaving you has never, ever changed that.”
“I know,” she answered, her voice muffled against her mother’s chest. “I know.”
***
She’d only meant to rest for a few microts, the days events, hezmana the weeken’s events taking a toll on her still recovering mind and body, but she must have been asleep for some time. The overhead lights were off, candles and lamps giving off their own low light, and she realized that someone else was in the room with her.
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” he whispered, sounding amused and soft cloth dropped onto her face. She sputtered, and slapped her palm out, hitting John in the stomach and earning an amused grunt. She moved the cloth off her face and he sat down next to her on the narrow bed.
“Got a surprise for you,” he whispered. She arched an eyebrow, which wasn’t particularly effective in the dark of the room, but she let him take her hand and, still holding the cloth, they snuck out of the room, past her sleeping daughter and made their way out of the palace, all the way to the gardens.
The sky was clear, the stars winking and she looked up at them, feeling a twinge of longing to be back in space, but John’s warm hand closing over hers refocused her attention. He took the cloth from her hand, and dropped a bag onto the ground.
“What’s my surprise?” she asked, keeping her voice low and he tilted his head at the water garden.
“A bath,” he said with a low chuckle.
“You have to be joking.” She looked dubiously at the dark water, but he shook his head.
“The pools are critter free and the water circulates from the nearby river.”
“It’s probably colder than frell,” she said sternly, although the idea of a bath was hugely appealing. “And I don’t think people are supposed to bathe in them.”
“I’ll keep you warm,” he said, his voice still low but suddenly serious and really, what point was there in arguing with him? Instead, she reached for the hem of her shirt and dragged it slowly off of her body. He groaned softly, and reached forward, stroking gentle fingertips over her collarbone, cupping her breasts in his palms, rubbing the nipples with his thumbs and suddenly the cool water sounded like a perfect idea. She stepped away from him, shedding the rest of her clothing, until she stood their naked in the moonlight, caught by the longing on his face.
He was looking at her as if she’d just broken his heart, but then he stepped towards her, hands threading through her hair, and kissed her, drinking her in, desperation surging through them both. She broke the kiss and turned, walking with some trepidation to the edge of the pathway, and then, holding her breath, eased herself down into the water. It was cold as frell, but it also felt clean, surrounding her body, easing the scrapes and the bruises and the broken ribs, although that may have been the painkillers and she smiled, turning to John, the water lapping under her breasts, and said, “Soap?”
He laughed, a gleeful sound, and stripped his own clothing off in record time, and rooted in the bag, triumphantly producing a tin of soap and then walked towards her, and splashed into the water, tossing her the tin. She took out the soap, setting the tin on the wooden walkway, and held her hand out to him. He moved towards her, elegant in the cold water, intently focused on her and when he got close enough for her to touch him, he stopped, hesitating. She moistened her lips, suddenly grateful to be here, with him, the water and the cool air, and his body denches away.
She inched towards him, close enough so that she could feel the heat of his body, and lathered the soap in her palms, spreading it over his chest, fingernails scraping through the hair, hands running over his shoulders, down his arms and around his back, while he closed his eyes, swallowed heavily and let her explore his body until neither of them could stand the slow, stroking touches anymore. He ducked down under the water, and resurfaced, droplets sliding down his cheekbones, running in rivulets from his hair like tears and ordered lowly, “Come here.”
She did, sliding into his arms effortlessly, legs wrapping around his hips, mouths warm and wet, darting and meeting, teasing, tongues stroking and licking. His erection throbbed against her sex, undaunted by the temperature of the water and he turned, backing them up to the edge of the walkway, gaining some leverage against the slippery silt covering the bottom of the pond. The edges of the wooden slats pushed against her back, but she was beyond noticing such mild discomfort, looking intently into his eyes as his fingers dug into her hips.
She didn’t want to wait any longer, ready for him, wanting him so badly that her skin ached with wanting and she reached between them, curling her fingers around his penis, stroking and squeezing until he shut his eyes against the pleasure of her touch. She angled her hips, the feel of her fingers brushing her sex as his cock slid to the entrance making her catch her breath. With a swift motion, he was inside her, the slick, tight feeling, the fullness too much for both of them and they clung to each other, movements suddenly clumsy and frantic as they strained against together, hips bruising, whispers and moans filling the air, skin raked by nails and teeth, by rough the wood against her back, the feeling of his fingers digging into her hips, the friction of their bodies, wet and rough and overwhelming. He thrust into her violently, slamming her into the walkway and she came, throwing her head back, throat straining as she tried not to scream and he pounded his own release into her.
When he could talk again, when she’d released her grip, let her legs drift down so that she stood on her toes, the water lapping around her, he said, “Three days,” his voice haunted, and she leaned forward to kiss him, unwilling to answer yes, the truth not always needing to be spoken out loud.
***
Harvey wasn’t much on sleep, so spending his nights doing a lot of vigorous not sleeping really wasn’t doing him any more damage than untangling equations, of course, driving themselves into sated, desperate exhaustion did occasionally result in exhausted dozing, but neither one of them wanted to waste the few chances they would have. During the day, they worked separately, everyone focusing on their strengths, the commandos who were to remain working with the palace guards and with some of the hardier citizens to establish some civil order in the cities.
John drifted from project to project, helping out with the physical labor, working with Katralla to set up new supply lines, organize harvesting, help settle the daily disputes between everyone, and tried to stay away from Aeryn until night fell. It helped with the headaches, the constant questioning that Harvey insisted upon, the equations he taunted John with, and then, when they had time to rest, he and Aeryn came together, inevitably drawn, and tuned out the rest of the world.
But he made a concentrated effort not to think about her during the day, her sleek, strong body, her talented mouth and cool fingers, and D’Argo bellowed his name as he lost his grip on the post they were moving, the slick sweat on his palms defying his good intentions. D’Argo dropped his end as well in frustration and stood up straight, looking at John in disgust, and then his gaze shifted into sympathy.
“Can you really do this,” he asked. “Stay here? Rule this place. Work on those frelling wormholes?”
John set his jaw and glared at his friend. He nodded abruptly, and turned back to the post they were hauling and D’Argo set his heavy hand on John’s shoulder.
“I am sorry, my friend. That things didn’t turn out differently this time, but at least it was…” he struggled for the word.
“A choice,” John said bitterely, and then sighed again. “Yeah. We made choices a long time ago. And even though the consequences sort of suck, it wasn’t all bad, I guess.”
“You have a daughter,” D’Argo reminded him gently, “A family and a life, and with luck, will be able to maintain that.”
John nodded. “Most people dream about those things,” he agreed softly. “ I know I’m luckier than most. And if the universe will lose it’s hard on for my brain, then maybe things will turn out okay.” He wiped his palms on his leather pants.
“You’ll take care of her, though, right? Keep her alive. Keep her noble intentions in check?” He tried to smile when he said it, but D’Argo squeezed his shoulder.
“We keep track of each other,” he said. “ And we do what we can. There are no guaruntees in this universe.”
“No,” John said heavily. “ I guess there aren’t.”
They turned back to the task at hand.
***
His fingers traced symbols into her skin, letters in his human alphabet, numbers, Sebacean words and senseless designs. She rested her cheek on her crossed arms, eyes closed, enjoying the feel of his hands on her skin.
“Aeryn?”
“Hmm,” he continued to stroke her skin. “Why’d Scorpy let you go?”
“She shrugged her shoulders. “Fear. Necessity. Honor.” She sighed, “I don’t know exactly, John. He got what he wanted, and taking me to high command wouldn’t necessarily change or facilitate that. But I don’t know. He didn’t give me a reason.”
Then he stilled his strokes, leaning forward, covering her body with his solid weight. “Stay,” he whispered, fierce and needy and intent. “Don’t leave tomorrow. Just stay!”
She took a deep breath, feeling the anger pulse in her throat, and turned under him, forcing him to roll off of her, and then faced him. “Come with me,” she hissed back, reaching forward to shove him back. “Leave all this and come with me!”
He grabbed her wrists and quickly slid on top of her. “Stay here. Stay away from the war. If we die, we do it together!”
She curled up her knee pressing it forcefully into his side and thrusting up her hips. “Abandon this planet, bring down the wrath of the Peacekeepers and the Scarrans and come with me.”
He pressed her arms over her head, settling between her legs and thrusting quickly inside her. She closed her eyes and arched her back. “Don’t leave me here,” he whispered, taking her breast between hip lips.
“Don’t stay,” she moaned, and wrapped her legs around him.
When they were spent, when she lay on his chest, his hands moving lazily through her hair, the soft sounds of “I love you and I know and I’m sorry,” fading into the air, she pressed her lips to his chest.
“I’m not going to say goodbye,” she said. “I’m just going to be gone in the morning. You have all of the information, everything is set. But I won’t say goodbye.”
He didn’t reply, just held her tightly.
***
Anix sat on the hill overlooking the lake. He hadn’t been there since before, since Moya and meeting the Princess and watching Aeryn walk away. She was brushing tears away, her arms wrapped around her knees, looking very, very young.
He sat down beside her on the grass, and looked up. They sat there quietly, a breeze caressing their skin, ruffling their dark hair, and then Anix looked at him, solemn blue eyes watching him intently and he thought about telling her some stories, about Earth, about her aunts and her grandparents and adolescent highjinks, but instead he just reached out, tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.
“So, what do we do now?’ she asked. He put his around around her, pulled her too him and rested his cheek on her silky hair.
“I don't know kid,” he said. “I think we just keep going.”
Oh, and kids, it's NC-17 in parts.
Chapter 31
They held the ceremony outside in front of the gates of the palace compound. The generator was working again, but the marble halls were chilly and the ruined splendor the palace’s interior was just depressing. Unfortunately, the exterior wasn’t proving much better. The sky was overcast, and rain speckled the ground.
A processional had seemed foolish, but Novia demanded that they follow the traditions, her last recognized act in the service of her people. It embarrassed D’Argo, despite the military traditions of his own culture, all of this pink and gold and solemn oaths while charred remains of buildings and houses smoldered in the distance. Katralla and John were dressed in deep pinks, long red robes covering their thin clothing. D’Argo stood next to Aeryn in the hallway of the palace, waiting for this procession to begin.
They watched as Katralla smoothed the lapel on John’s coat, continued to watch as he gently kissed her forehead. Aeryn shifted her weight slightly, rolling up on the balls of her toes, and D’Argo jostled her arm. “You missed the wedding,” he muttered at her, “so don’t expect a lot of sympathy from me.”
“Oh, shut up,” she growled back at him, still staring straight ahead, watching her daughter. Anix wore a white dress, a silver decoration in her hair and looked decidedly uncomfortable as she tried to keep as far away from Novia as possible. The Empress was in grey, her thin shoulders weary, but her face was set in stone and a pink ribboned medallion hung around her neck. D’Argo wondered how in hezmana they’d managed to preserve those clothes.
Sen had sent down their own ceremonial uniforms, and he looked at Aeryn and wanted to smile in spite of himself. She stood straight and still, tall and unyielding, her dark hair pulled back tightly into a low tail, the silky strands sliding against her leather coat. The black uniform was tight, hugging the curves of her body, exposing the pale skin of her chest and her throat. She looked beautiful, he thought, and more than a little threatening. At this moment, she wasn’t beyond using everything at her disposal to render these people speechless and a little afraid. He didn’t blame her. He was equally tired of the inhabitants of the Royal Planet.
They’d been up all through the night, readying the generator, converting power and shifting it to parts of the burned out city and surrounding towns, and lighting some of the palace. The rest of the time had been spent coercing some of the more vocal, but not mutinous citizens into accepting a role in the new government. The senate had been devastated, a lone senator remaining and he was too old and too lost to be the lone voice of representation. Two men and one woman had finally stepped forward, at the urging of the people, and agreed to serve for a cycle. The proceedings had literally taken all night, arguments and strategizing and they finally had the basis for a government. None of them had slept, and as the arn grew later, exhaustion and anger and tension threading through the crowd, D’Argo had seen John watching Aeryn, his expression closed off, but his eyes tracking her every movement, waiting for her. The waiting proved pointless, time escaping them amidst the flood of things that had to be done.
The new senators looked extremely nervous as they huddled together, fidgeting with their robes, and stealing quick looks back at him and Aeryn as if they were as much of a threat as the Peacekeepers or Scarrans. Aeryn smiled at them evily, baring her teeth and one of them gulped and turned away, knocking into his fellow senator. D’Argo rolled his eyes. “Quit doing that,” he said, and she sighed and stood up even straighter. A horn sounded, and the procession began.
They stood in front of the ragged crowd, rain dotting the ceremonial robes. Katralla shivered and John moved closer to her, put his arm around her shoulders. They took their oaths, pledging loyalty and sacrifice to the people who merely looked weary, hope having lost much of it’s appeal. Novia placed the medallion around her daughter’s neck, transferring her power to the new Empress. She took John’s hand, placed it over Katralla’s and wrapped them together with a white ribbon, a symbol of peace, their duty to rule with that in mind. As if peace was an option now. Aeryn was motionless throughout the ceremony, stock still until Katralla stepped towards her, handing her the declaration of alliance, which she accepted and then moved back next to D’Argo. Then it was over, and scattered applause broke through the sound of rain and rustling bodies, and the people were welcomed inside to celebrate.
D’Argo was amazed at what the citizens of the underground community had come up with. Cakes and breads and festival foods lined the common area. Raslak and fellip nectar and beverages that had undoubtedly been horded throughout the sieges lined the tables, and people filed in to greet the new rulers.
Aeryn stood near the door, watch the mass of people, watching her soldiers and the palace guards edge them into order, and looked up as D’Argo put his hand on her shoulder, and nodded at the door.
“That was absurd,” she said quietly as they made their way through the halls to the hangar.
D’Argo sighed, “But necessary.” She shook her head, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “What if we’re just making things worse, making them an easy target for the next enemy?”
“Aeryn.” He was so tired of this argument. “Don’t let her stay then. If you’re adamant enough, she will come with us.”
She didn’t respond, and then finally said, “ He still doesn’t understand wormholes,” and D’Argo laughed at the ridiculousness. “Does it matter?” he asked. “Will they really help these people, or help us for that matter?”
“I don’t know, but it would be something. It would put us on equal footing. As it is, if Scorpius figures them out…” She let the sentence hang.
“Aeryn,” he said sharply.
“It could be done,” she said, icy death in her voice. “I know it could. I know how.”
“You stopped being an assassin cycles ago,” he said, coming to a stop and grabbing her arm, suddenly alarmed. “We thought you were lost once to this. Don’t…” he tightened his grip. “They aren’t lost to you Aeryn,” he insisted. “John is doing what is necessary, and Anix will be back with us in a cycle. Don’t let go of that.”
The words didn’t feel particularly comforting to him, however. Aeryn nodded, but eyes were bleak and he released his hold on her arm. He wanted to pull her too him, hold onto her like he would Anix, but she wouldn’t allow it, and they had too much to do.
“Let’s go,” she said finally. “They need to leave.” He watched her proceed him as they went to dispatch their troops to the neighboring sector, a process that had begun just a few solar days ago and had been so thoroughly disrupted.
***
He was freezing, and the silk robes itched uncomfortably. He was also tired and irritable and the bones in his hand ached. His head hurt and the bongo set that Harvey had unearthed wasn’t helping any. Anix bumped up against him, looking a little desperate and he gave her a sympathetic nudge, and whispered, “Hang in there kid. I think we can escape soon.”
The room was filled with people, talking and jostling, and most of them didn’t smell so fantastic, due to the lack of running water, and the guards were trying valiantly to maintain some sort of order, but John was just too tired to care. The crowd was oppressive, restless and uncertain and still pretty frelling scared, and he was starting to feel overrun.
Katralla squeezed his hand, Harvey tsked, opening up a bright blue star for him, streaks shooting behind his eyes, and someone thrust a cup into his hand. He knocked back the liquid, and realized that it was heavily alcoholic as it burned down his throat and tingled to the ends of his fingertips. He opened his eyes, throat suddenly tight, and then his chest expanded, and he whistled, “Damn.” Anix raised an eyebrow, looking at him inquisitively, and he shook his head, “Not a chance in hell kid.”
The oppresiveness of the crowd started to fade with the alcoholic buzzing, and he looked around, trying to spot Aeryn in the crowd. He’d about given up, feeling ill with disappointment, when he saw her near the door, head turned in profile, and the noise and the bongos and the chaos stopped, leaving the air crystalline clear while he watched her. Her hair was pulled back tightly, her high cheekbones sharp, the bruise fading but still discoloring her skin. He traced down the long line of her throat, to the tight collared jacket and then gulped. The leather made her look even more feline than usual, sleek and sexual and threatening, and lust slammed into him, fueled undoubtedly by the effects of alcohol on a tired body and an empty stomach, but as she arched her back, rolled her neck a little, he tightened his grip on the cup and fought to get his breathing under control. She turned a little, her features still and drawn, sadness pulling down the corners of her beautiful mouth and she caught his eye, forced a small smile, and he was lost.
He didn’t know what he said, made some lame excuse, handed the cup to someone and slid into the crowd, moving through it like water, easing and edging and nodding appropriately at well wishes and gratuitous thanks as they closed the ranks behind him.
She hadn’t moved, had watched his progression intently, and when he reached her, he didn’t touch her, just opened his mouth, tried to remember how to breath, and followed her as she slipped out the door.
Their footsteps rang in the empty halls, Aeryn walking in front of him, the quick grace of her movements ratcheting up his need for her, his desire, until she rounded a corner. He sped up, grabbing her arm and turning, using her momentum so that they slammed into the wall.
His mouth was on hers instantly, tongues warring, teeth biting, blood and lust and love and warmth as they kissed with desperation. He dug his fingers into her hair, pulling sharply, need pulsing in his nerves, his fingertips and heart and breath. He jerked her head back, exposing her throat, ignoring her small whimper of pain as she clawed at his skull and his shoulders with equal need. He wanted to sob with relief at being able to touch her, but he couldn't stop long enough to do it, his tongue scraping along her neck, teeth scraping at her earlobe, her jaw, her collarbone, reaching for anything sweet and pale and near that he could touch with his mouth.
Her hand went to his chest, stroking over his nipple, and then lying flat over his heart, her palm cool and steady through the thin silk of the shirt. He moaned, his cock tightening at her touch and her hand stole down, squeezing him tightly, almost painfully and he groaned into her ear, the sound plaintive and yearning. He thrust forward into her hand and she found his mouth, kissed him again, cutting his lip with her teeth. He grabbed her hip, the leather slick under his palm, and bucked his hips again and she threw her head back, worldless with need as her hand was trapped between them, knuckles pressing into her sex. Her throat curved as she swallowed back a moan, and he bit the skin, wanting to tasted her wanting to devour her and as she shuddered, his brain turned on again and realized he had to slow things down.
There was no room for subtlety, and his will power was shot. He grabbed her by the shoulders, shoved her back, forcing her into the wall, far enough away so that touching him would be a stretch for her. The loss of her nimble fingers on his cock was enough to make him purse his lips, grunt with frustration, but he needed to just look at her for a minute, touch her and see her and not just fuck her up against the wall.
Her eyes were stormy, pupils dilated and she looked like she wanted to fight as much as she wanted to fuck, but their time was too precious and despite his desperation, he needed to savor her. Her chest was heaving as she tried to catch her breath, and the whiteness of her skin against the tight black leather of the jacket was just too much for him.
He reached out and slowly, notch by notch, edged the zipper down, the sound echoing in the silence, punctuated only by their breathing. She had an impossibly thin tank on underneath, the material delicate, her breasts outlined, nipples hard, the thin smooth skin of her chest looking so soft that he had to lean forward, had to brush his lips over the tops of her breasts, slide his hands under the shirt to encircle her waist. Couldn’t refrain from touching his mouth to the hollow of her throat and all of the desperation flooded away as she cupped his skull, soothing the scratches she had inflicted, and she held onto him in the hallway of this ruined kingdom.
The moment was quiet, a pause from the frantic urgency, but he was still hard, and the press of her breasts, the soft curve of her hip, her scent, the feel of her flesh had done nothing to soften his aching sex, and when he rolled his hips, nudging her with his cock, she growled at him, a sound of pure want and pushed him away. He nodded, and stepped far enough away so that physical contact was impossible.
“Are they gone?” he asked, trying for something that sounded like civility and control. But his voice was murky, and her mouth curved up.
She nodded then, looking at the ground, at his feet, anywhere but in his eyes. “They should be rendezvousing with the other team in a few solar days. They need to resupply, get properly briefed, that sort of thing.”
“And then you’ll go meet them.”
It didn’t really need to be said, they both knew the plan, but she still answered him.
” Yes.”
He reached out to touch her, slide his hand over her cheek, but she turned her head and he let his hand fall to his side.
“Not here,” he agreed regretfully. She bit her bottom lip, and then looked at him shrewdly.
“Tonight.” It wasn’t a request, and she turned to go, but he said her name, letting it catch in his throat.
“Talk to her. Please.”
“I don’t know what to say.’
“Then tell her that. Just. She’s doing everything she can to prove that this is the right decision. That she’s in control of her own life. But she’s scared to death.”
Aeryn looked at him. “Yes,” she said fiercely, “ I know.”
***
She’d gone to the hangar hoping to say goodbye to Atos, who’d gone on with the first wave of soldiers, but when she got there, the hangar was deserted, so she sat down on a bench feeling absurd in her white dress. She plucked the silver ornament from her hair and tossed it onto the table, wondering for the thousandth time since she’d made her declaration if she was doing the right thing.
She heard familiar footsteps, but didn’t look up until she heard the clink of something set down on the bench next to her and her mother sat down, handing her a slim silver container of raslak.
“Since I missed your introduction to the art of intoxication,” she said wryly and Anix looked over at her.
Her cheeks were a little flushed, but she looked like Aeryn, controlled, reserved, focused and it was such a strange comfort that Anix leaned towards her, brushing the shoulder of the leather jacket with her cheek. Aeryn took her hand in hers, lacing the fingers together, something she hadn’t done since Anix was a very little girl.
“This is really what you want?” Aeryn said, but it didn’t sound like a real question.
“I think so,” she answered. “Yes. I want to be in one place for a while. Even if it’s dangerous. I need to figure some things out.”
Aeryn smiled and nodded. “Okay. A cycle, and Teyvn stays, and if anything looks even vaguely threatening you evacuate immediately.”
The conditions had been set two solar days ago, but Aeryn seemed to need to say it aloud.
“Yeah. And I study, and train and stay out of trouble.”
Aeryn laughed. “Yes. And you do what John tells you, unless it just seems absurd.” But she laughed at that too.
“Mother,” she didn’t know exactly what she wanted to ask, maybe what if felt like to leave people behind, but Aeryn had turned to her, eyes glassy and Anix leaned forward, wrapping her arms around her mother and holding on tightly.
“I love you,” Aeryn said, quiet and fierce. “That doesn’t change, Anix. Nothing changes that. Love isn’t that transient. No matter what happens, no matter what I do or you do, or what happens in this kingdom or in this war, I love you. Leaving you has never, ever changed that.”
“I know,” she answered, her voice muffled against her mother’s chest. “I know.”
***
She’d only meant to rest for a few microts, the days events, hezmana the weeken’s events taking a toll on her still recovering mind and body, but she must have been asleep for some time. The overhead lights were off, candles and lamps giving off their own low light, and she realized that someone else was in the room with her.
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” he whispered, sounding amused and soft cloth dropped onto her face. She sputtered, and slapped her palm out, hitting John in the stomach and earning an amused grunt. She moved the cloth off her face and he sat down next to her on the narrow bed.
“Got a surprise for you,” he whispered. She arched an eyebrow, which wasn’t particularly effective in the dark of the room, but she let him take her hand and, still holding the cloth, they snuck out of the room, past her sleeping daughter and made their way out of the palace, all the way to the gardens.
The sky was clear, the stars winking and she looked up at them, feeling a twinge of longing to be back in space, but John’s warm hand closing over hers refocused her attention. He took the cloth from her hand, and dropped a bag onto the ground.
“What’s my surprise?” she asked, keeping her voice low and he tilted his head at the water garden.
“A bath,” he said with a low chuckle.
“You have to be joking.” She looked dubiously at the dark water, but he shook his head.
“The pools are critter free and the water circulates from the nearby river.”
“It’s probably colder than frell,” she said sternly, although the idea of a bath was hugely appealing. “And I don’t think people are supposed to bathe in them.”
“I’ll keep you warm,” he said, his voice still low but suddenly serious and really, what point was there in arguing with him? Instead, she reached for the hem of her shirt and dragged it slowly off of her body. He groaned softly, and reached forward, stroking gentle fingertips over her collarbone, cupping her breasts in his palms, rubbing the nipples with his thumbs and suddenly the cool water sounded like a perfect idea. She stepped away from him, shedding the rest of her clothing, until she stood their naked in the moonlight, caught by the longing on his face.
He was looking at her as if she’d just broken his heart, but then he stepped towards her, hands threading through her hair, and kissed her, drinking her in, desperation surging through them both. She broke the kiss and turned, walking with some trepidation to the edge of the pathway, and then, holding her breath, eased herself down into the water. It was cold as frell, but it also felt clean, surrounding her body, easing the scrapes and the bruises and the broken ribs, although that may have been the painkillers and she smiled, turning to John, the water lapping under her breasts, and said, “Soap?”
He laughed, a gleeful sound, and stripped his own clothing off in record time, and rooted in the bag, triumphantly producing a tin of soap and then walked towards her, and splashed into the water, tossing her the tin. She took out the soap, setting the tin on the wooden walkway, and held her hand out to him. He moved towards her, elegant in the cold water, intently focused on her and when he got close enough for her to touch him, he stopped, hesitating. She moistened her lips, suddenly grateful to be here, with him, the water and the cool air, and his body denches away.
She inched towards him, close enough so that she could feel the heat of his body, and lathered the soap in her palms, spreading it over his chest, fingernails scraping through the hair, hands running over his shoulders, down his arms and around his back, while he closed his eyes, swallowed heavily and let her explore his body until neither of them could stand the slow, stroking touches anymore. He ducked down under the water, and resurfaced, droplets sliding down his cheekbones, running in rivulets from his hair like tears and ordered lowly, “Come here.”
She did, sliding into his arms effortlessly, legs wrapping around his hips, mouths warm and wet, darting and meeting, teasing, tongues stroking and licking. His erection throbbed against her sex, undaunted by the temperature of the water and he turned, backing them up to the edge of the walkway, gaining some leverage against the slippery silt covering the bottom of the pond. The edges of the wooden slats pushed against her back, but she was beyond noticing such mild discomfort, looking intently into his eyes as his fingers dug into her hips.
She didn’t want to wait any longer, ready for him, wanting him so badly that her skin ached with wanting and she reached between them, curling her fingers around his penis, stroking and squeezing until he shut his eyes against the pleasure of her touch. She angled her hips, the feel of her fingers brushing her sex as his cock slid to the entrance making her catch her breath. With a swift motion, he was inside her, the slick, tight feeling, the fullness too much for both of them and they clung to each other, movements suddenly clumsy and frantic as they strained against together, hips bruising, whispers and moans filling the air, skin raked by nails and teeth, by rough the wood against her back, the feeling of his fingers digging into her hips, the friction of their bodies, wet and rough and overwhelming. He thrust into her violently, slamming her into the walkway and she came, throwing her head back, throat straining as she tried not to scream and he pounded his own release into her.
When he could talk again, when she’d released her grip, let her legs drift down so that she stood on her toes, the water lapping around her, he said, “Three days,” his voice haunted, and she leaned forward to kiss him, unwilling to answer yes, the truth not always needing to be spoken out loud.
***
Harvey wasn’t much on sleep, so spending his nights doing a lot of vigorous not sleeping really wasn’t doing him any more damage than untangling equations, of course, driving themselves into sated, desperate exhaustion did occasionally result in exhausted dozing, but neither one of them wanted to waste the few chances they would have. During the day, they worked separately, everyone focusing on their strengths, the commandos who were to remain working with the palace guards and with some of the hardier citizens to establish some civil order in the cities.
John drifted from project to project, helping out with the physical labor, working with Katralla to set up new supply lines, organize harvesting, help settle the daily disputes between everyone, and tried to stay away from Aeryn until night fell. It helped with the headaches, the constant questioning that Harvey insisted upon, the equations he taunted John with, and then, when they had time to rest, he and Aeryn came together, inevitably drawn, and tuned out the rest of the world.
But he made a concentrated effort not to think about her during the day, her sleek, strong body, her talented mouth and cool fingers, and D’Argo bellowed his name as he lost his grip on the post they were moving, the slick sweat on his palms defying his good intentions. D’Argo dropped his end as well in frustration and stood up straight, looking at John in disgust, and then his gaze shifted into sympathy.
“Can you really do this,” he asked. “Stay here? Rule this place. Work on those frelling wormholes?”
John set his jaw and glared at his friend. He nodded abruptly, and turned back to the post they were hauling and D’Argo set his heavy hand on John’s shoulder.
“I am sorry, my friend. That things didn’t turn out differently this time, but at least it was…” he struggled for the word.
“A choice,” John said bitterely, and then sighed again. “Yeah. We made choices a long time ago. And even though the consequences sort of suck, it wasn’t all bad, I guess.”
“You have a daughter,” D’Argo reminded him gently, “A family and a life, and with luck, will be able to maintain that.”
John nodded. “Most people dream about those things,” he agreed softly. “ I know I’m luckier than most. And if the universe will lose it’s hard on for my brain, then maybe things will turn out okay.” He wiped his palms on his leather pants.
“You’ll take care of her, though, right? Keep her alive. Keep her noble intentions in check?” He tried to smile when he said it, but D’Argo squeezed his shoulder.
“We keep track of each other,” he said. “ And we do what we can. There are no guaruntees in this universe.”
“No,” John said heavily. “ I guess there aren’t.”
They turned back to the task at hand.
***
His fingers traced symbols into her skin, letters in his human alphabet, numbers, Sebacean words and senseless designs. She rested her cheek on her crossed arms, eyes closed, enjoying the feel of his hands on her skin.
“Aeryn?”
“Hmm,” he continued to stroke her skin. “Why’d Scorpy let you go?”
“She shrugged her shoulders. “Fear. Necessity. Honor.” She sighed, “I don’t know exactly, John. He got what he wanted, and taking me to high command wouldn’t necessarily change or facilitate that. But I don’t know. He didn’t give me a reason.”
Then he stilled his strokes, leaning forward, covering her body with his solid weight. “Stay,” he whispered, fierce and needy and intent. “Don’t leave tomorrow. Just stay!”
She took a deep breath, feeling the anger pulse in her throat, and turned under him, forcing him to roll off of her, and then faced him. “Come with me,” she hissed back, reaching forward to shove him back. “Leave all this and come with me!”
He grabbed her wrists and quickly slid on top of her. “Stay here. Stay away from the war. If we die, we do it together!”
She curled up her knee pressing it forcefully into his side and thrusting up her hips. “Abandon this planet, bring down the wrath of the Peacekeepers and the Scarrans and come with me.”
He pressed her arms over her head, settling between her legs and thrusting quickly inside her. She closed her eyes and arched her back. “Don’t leave me here,” he whispered, taking her breast between hip lips.
“Don’t stay,” she moaned, and wrapped her legs around him.
When they were spent, when she lay on his chest, his hands moving lazily through her hair, the soft sounds of “I love you and I know and I’m sorry,” fading into the air, she pressed her lips to his chest.
“I’m not going to say goodbye,” she said. “I’m just going to be gone in the morning. You have all of the information, everything is set. But I won’t say goodbye.”
He didn’t reply, just held her tightly.
***
Anix sat on the hill overlooking the lake. He hadn’t been there since before, since Moya and meeting the Princess and watching Aeryn walk away. She was brushing tears away, her arms wrapped around her knees, looking very, very young.
He sat down beside her on the grass, and looked up. They sat there quietly, a breeze caressing their skin, ruffling their dark hair, and then Anix looked at him, solemn blue eyes watching him intently and he thought about telling her some stories, about Earth, about her aunts and her grandparents and adolescent highjinks, but instead he just reached out, tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.
“So, what do we do now?’ she asked. He put his around around her, pulled her too him and rested his cheek on her silky hair.
“I don't know kid,” he said. “I think we just keep going.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 05:14 pm (UTC)I have plotty comments, but you know I can wait until you put it all together and set me loose on it with the machete.
Yay for you. That was great. You done good.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-09 10:56 am (UTC)I have plotty nightmares running through my head, places I know I dropped the ball. Things that have to be hacked out and added in, but I'm still doing the "I finished it" dance of joy. However, I can't wait to have you rip it apart:)
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Date: 2004-01-08 05:19 pm (UTC)Tears, Thea. I have to go read the rest now.
***
Now that I've finished the rest I realize that you're really going to break me.
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Date: 2004-01-09 10:54 am (UTC)And I'm glad you liked it. And that line kind of sums everything up for me, at least about families, parents and children.
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Date: 2004-01-08 05:46 pm (UTC)Bravo! And congratulations on finishing a truly fine piece of work - you should be proud of yourself. Thanks so much for this wonderful story.
Hope you post the epilogue here ... Aeryn's last line really has me curious.
Maury
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Date: 2004-01-09 10:52 am (UTC)I will post the epilogue here. Anyone who got this far deserves some conclusion:)
no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 06:39 pm (UTC)But I refuse to cry! Comparatively speaking, this is a happy ending - our protagonists are alive, in good health, safe and are where they are by choice.
On another topic - you remember the PWPbunny I mentioned? Since you are the master of erotic J/A, would you be willing to beta for me? It's 4 pages.
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Date: 2004-01-09 10:51 am (UTC)And absolutely. I'd be thrilled to beta the PWP bunny. Send it on over!!
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Date: 2004-01-08 07:07 pm (UTC)Waah!
seva
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Date: 2004-01-09 10:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 10:51 pm (UTC)I'm crying, yet they are tears of sympathy and appreciation, not mournful, because there is still hope. Yes, they have to do what the universe commands right now. But maybe there will be a day when peace isn't just a fantasy, maybe they will see each other again, and they do have each other, even if they're apart. That line says it all.
God. Congratulations!
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Date: 2004-01-09 10:44 am (UTC)And yeah, that's the key isn't it? That maybe peace isn't a fantasy, and you just never know what will happen next.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-09 01:48 am (UTC)Extra special love for your Aeryn/D'Argo friendship. I just wanted to hug him in the beginning.
Agent Rouka
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Date: 2004-01-09 04:21 am (UTC)The first time, there were three choices, as I see it. John could marry, the crew could try to get him away or Scorpius would grab him.
This time around, Aeryn could take him away with her, he could stay with Katralla, he could take a ship and fly out at random. Aeryn could stay with him and Anix.
It's not lack of choice that guides their decisions now, but acceptance of duty. If they were different people, they could ignore 'the right thing to do' and flee, since Aeryn was believed to be dead by her troops.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-09 05:26 am (UTC)If someone else was ready to step up to the throne, or take over Aeryn's troops, then it would be an actual choice. But like this it's like telling a parent "You can die with your children or run and leave them here." and then saying "But I gave them a choice!" It's not really a choice if the outcome is a foregone conclusion.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-09 06:09 am (UTC)There's no reason to think that John couldn't give Katralla genetic samples for future children, leaving her with Tyno as happened in LATP. It'd be rough on her, but she's got the fortitude to carry on.
If Aeryn chose to remain hidden, if she asked John to leave with her and Anix, he'd say yes.
That's the great angsty thing about choices like this. Is the chance for personal happiness worth abandoning your duty? There's always the possibility that just at that moment, the person could say, "I've done my part. Can't I have something for me?"
Considering what happens in S4, the possibility of choosing for oneself instead of others doesn't seem so impossible.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-09 07:24 am (UTC)Theoretically, it's possible that Aeryn could choose to stay behind. She could have taken command over the troops on the Royal planet, been John's lover. (Incidentally, that doesn't sound so bad. If you ignore that her abandoning of duty would undermine her reputation with the troops quite badly.) So to me, the only choice was Aeryn's.
I guess that's fair. If John's can't leave duty behind then so shouldn't Aeryn, because that would be unequal, her giving up everything she built in her life because of a choice John made 16 years ago.
Looking at it this way, it's a lot better.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-09 10:17 am (UTC)And, the wormhole knowledge still plays a part. This is a responsability, whether or not it was a chosen one and carries with it consequences as well.
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Date: 2004-01-09 10:20 am (UTC)But (and this is what the edit is for:), part of the problem is that the personal choice effects other people. And it's about doing what you inherently know is right.
Aeryn can't simply stay on the planet because her duties go beyond John. Her obligations go beyond John.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-09 10:26 am (UTC)For me, at least, the person in this story who makes a real choice is Anix, and that's kind of what it was about. Her parents giving her that gift, even if it wasn't that easy. How their effect on each other shaped her, in part.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-09 05:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-09 05:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-09 06:46 am (UTC)I'll bite. :D
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Date: 2004-01-09 10:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-09 10:36 am (UTC)And I have a lot of sympathy for John:) But, largely because he never saw life as duty before, and now he's being forced to live up to the consequences of his choices.
I'm glad you enjoyed it and thanks so much for the feedback.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-09 05:29 am (UTC)Congratulations on finishing this! I definitely understand how it feels like a sense of loss to be done with it.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-09 05:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-09 10:22 am (UTC)And thanks for the feedback!
no subject
Date: 2004-01-09 08:16 am (UTC)Dude.
*sigh*
dude.
*bg* lovely, lovely. and believe it or not I actually have a quibble/suggestion for those last two paragraphs. Make it at sunrise because as it was the time frame jump was too muddy. and hell the symbolism of it alone will eek tears out of some folks. The whole new beginning thing also it would tell us that yes it is the next day and Aeryn is really gone.
But that's just me. ;)
Once more for good measure:
Dude.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-09 10:13 am (UTC)And I agree completely about the last two paragraphs. Actually, the jump between all of the paragraphs in this section is muddy and abrupt, but I needed the scenes to be there, needed to have them on paper first:)
And thanks for the legions of support!!
no subject
Date: 2004-01-09 10:29 am (UTC)Wow. Amazing work Thea *sends virtual mini Mr Goodbars*
It's never easy for them, is it?
I am so looking forward to rereading this in it's entirety.
oh, and I'm glad there's still an epilogue to look forward to *g*
no subject
Date: 2004-01-09 11:01 am (UTC)And no, it's never easy:) I, however, am terrified to read this in it's entirety:) It will make me pound my head on the desk in frustration.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-09 03:46 pm (UTC)You break my heart everytime!
Watching and waiting for each new chapter, I feel like I was present at the birth of something special. Thanks for sharing it.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-09 04:00 pm (UTC)And now I'm blushing beyond belief.
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Date: 2004-01-09 11:43 pm (UTC)The picture I have in my mind from your description is simply breathtaking. Really that whole section just killed me.
I put off reading this yesterday because I don't want it to end! :( It was wonderful and sad and gut wrenching and desperate and comforting all at the same time.
You have such a beautiful way with words Thea. They appeal to me so much and take me to another place. I really am so looking forward to reading this altogether once you've got it polished up and finished.
Congratulations on finishing this step. You've done such a great job!
no subject
Date: 2004-01-10 10:01 pm (UTC)And hopefully the edit will be an improvement. I have several betas lined up all clutching their machetes and their plot finders:)
no subject
Date: 2004-01-10 01:59 pm (UTC)Thea, this rocks.
(But waaaahhh, it's over! Except for the ep.)
Fabulous.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-10 09:53 pm (UTC)So glad you enjoyed it!