all limbs hurting in unison. also, fic.
Dec. 13th, 2006 04:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rivendellroseYou wouldn't think that a person could injure herself while walking to the grocery store. Oh, but you'd be thinking wrong, apparently, at least if that person is me. Nope, I managed to trip and skid across cement on both palms and one knee, and bruise up the remaining knee something fierce into the bargain. Then, because I'm a horrible wimp, I got all dizzy and had to sit down on the edge of somebody's garden before I started walking again. Why, you ask, did I not just go home? I'm not sure either, honestly. It just seemed necessary to go to the store. Of course, then by the time I actually got to the store I realized that my palms were bleeding and my knee was killing me, so I didn't exactly get a lot of shopping done. And then walked home, because I knew I'd just get more and more focused on "damn, this hurts" if I waited for the bus.
I can deal with the fact that my palms sting like nobody's business. But the bruised knee? Really starting to fecking hurt at this point. I look like a damned idiot every time I try to walk somewhere in the house, limping and muttering under my breath, and then trying to stretch the damned thing out to reassure myself that it's not anything serious.
The worst thing is that I feel like a total wimp whining about a stupid bruised knee. And a skinned knee. And two skinned palms. *Headdesk* Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have toddler-injuries. And just when I was feeling pleased with how the stupid burn-blister was healing, too.
Anyway. New LJ interface, I see. I want the old one back, damn it. Must they constantly change things? Apparently so.
I was going to edit this again, since I wrote the last bits of it late last night when I should have been in bed, but right now I'm feeling a little cranky and not at all up to combing through Sheridan-speak manuscript to see if I've buggered anything up. So please, if you see any mistakes, let me know.
Fandom: Babylon 5
Characters: Sheridan, Delenn, Lennier
Disclaimer: I don't own them, don't make money off them, don't mean to infringe. Just playing.
Summary: Set early S5, between and behind the scenes of "The Very Long Night of Londo Mollari." Sheridan POV, and hence very much stream-of-consciousness and slightly odd.
Notes: I've noticed recently that I tend to rely very heavily on dialogue in my writing. Hence, I made an effort to keep the dialogue to a minimum in this. If you have feelings, good, bad, or confused, about this, please let me know! Experimentation does nothing if the person playing around never finds out that everyone else hates it. ;)
Title: The Things You Know
He’s heard it said in the past that under their communal ethic and spirituality, Minbari are arrogant, authoritarian, even cruel. He can’t agree with them, of course - people are people, for one thing. Regardless of species, they’re all individuals - applying adjectives like that to an entire species is both ignorant and dangerous. More to the point, he loves Delenn and can’t imagine applying those words to her.
But every so often, he understands what these people mean. He still doesn’t agree with the terminology or the sentiment, exactly, but he can still see what they’re talking about.
It never actually occurred to her, he realizes, that Lennier might leave.
Never once. Ever since he told her, she’s stared into space as though this calls into question every part of her life, as though if this could happen, then at any moment gravity might stop working, the stars might all burn out at once, the station might fly apart and leave them all sucking vacuum in the cold and the black of outer space. Delenn is an intelligent woman - brilliant, even, at times, and certainly has no lack of understanding of the way minds and feelings work. She has never failed to find the right buttons to influence him, that’s for sure, and her diplomatic record indicates the same of anyone else she’s been in contact with, as well. She was the first to console Susan after what happened to Talia Winters, and later the first to remark on Marcus’ feelings for Susan and the commander’s apparent determination not to return those feelings. The first to recognize their own budding attachment, even, back when he was still in such a flutter that he didn’t know what to make of the feelings that drew him to this enigmatic and charming ambassador. And yet, somehow, she managed to ignore her own aide’s increasing discomfort and distraction.
There are none so blind as those who will not see...
For the longest time, he thought it was just his imagination. They were Minbari, aliens, after all, and Minbari did things differently than humans. He was vaguely aware, from station records he’d examined when he first came aboard, that this was Lennier’s first position outside the temples, and his first impression of Delenn’s aide was of a young man intensely devoted to his work and his mentor. That kind of loyalty was familiar to Sheridan from so many green military officers that he didn’t think twice about it. What did it really matter that the ‘young’ man was more than double Sheridan’s age? Minbari aged at a different rate than humans. He was practically still a teenager, judging by his attitude.
Maybe that should’ve been a hint, looking back, but it still didn’t occur to him for several months. Not until he and Delenn were already dating, and he began to see more of the aide than he would have under normal situations of station business. He saw how Lennier watched Delenn, looked at her maybe just a little bit more than was appropriate for a purely business-like relationship. And yes, he noticed because he was doing the same thing. But that was different. And he noticed how closely Delenn relied on her aide, trusted him with all the little details of her life... and yes, he noticed because he wished that she would trust and rely on him like that. It was dangerous to anthropomorphize aliens, to assume that their gestures and expressions meant the same as a human’s. Dangerous, because it led inevitably to cultural misunderstandings and misinterpretation.
But still, he noticed. And he wondered. And then, finally, he knows that he’d been right all along.
And now he’s leaving.
Maybe other men would be grateful - hell, maybe he ought to be, too. It’s a bad situation, having someone else in love with his wife, especially since it’s someone who spends a lot more time with her than he possibly can. Someone who knows the ins and outs of her schedule - hell, who creates her schedule every day, and spends hours cloistered away with her in any number of rituals that Sheridan knows not a damned thing about. Looking at it with the eyes of cynicism, he supposes that they could have conducted an affair right under his nose, and he would probably never have even realized. Maybe he’s fooling himself, but he just can’t imagine it. It’s part of that Minbari arrogance people talk about, he thinks - the feeling that they simply wouldn’t. They would see themselves as above that kind of deception, he thinks, and the idea of Lennier or Delenn doing anything so improper is so bizarre that he would almost laugh about it, if it weren’t also so contrary as to be almost disturbing. He supposes it’s wrong to limit, to dehumanize the other man that way, but he can’t help it. Lennier strikes Sheridan as almost priest-like in his adherence to rule and regulation and ritual, and that attitude doesn’t mix with even the thought of sex in the human’s mind. Thank god for that, at least. And while he certainly doesn’t regard Delenn as asexual or untouchable - thank god for that - he can’t imagine her betraying his trust that way.
Other ways, maybe - he does still remember the situation with Anna, and he can’t help wondering whether there might not be other secrets that she has simply decided he doesn’t need to know. Sins of omission, he knows her capable of. Sins of commission, true betrayal of their marriage... those he still feels free to doubt. She’s too good, too moral, too focused on a spirituality that he respects but doesn’t entirely understand, to do something like that.
And right now, that spirituality seems to be the only thing on her mind. She’s sat in front of that damned candle for the last three hours, ever since Lennier left their quarters, after she confronted him with the knowledge that he was leaving. He’s seen her go through this before, many times - she’ll just sit and meditate for hours at a time, lost in mysteries that he neither can nor especially cares to comprehend. He leaves the world of prophecy and fate to her capable hands. And to Lennier, who has always knelt by her side in these times, ready and able to coax her back to the world of the living with gentle words, a glass of water, a keen understanding of how far she can push herself without danger.
“Delenn?” He kneels awkwardly at her side, touches her arm - is it dangerous to wake someone out of this kind of trance too quickly? He remembers reading something like that, but maybe it was sleepwalkers, or telepaths, or something like that... “Sweetheart, you should eat something...”
She doesn’t even open her eyes. “This is our way, John. I will come back when I am ready.”
You don’t understand. You are only Human.
She doesn’t say it, of course, but the words dangle behind, twisting in and out of her tone. The certainty that he is Other, that he can’t comprehend the subtleties of Minbari ways. He’s just the stupid Human. He inadvertently maligns sacred practices with his boorish, barbarian ways. He falls asleep when they try to meditate. He snores.
And he’s about to be left alone with her. It isn’t right to feel panicked at this thought, of being alone with his own wife - that’s the way it’s supposed to be! But he’s long regarded Lennier as something of a buffer - a safeguard, for the times when Delenn does something that he doesn’t understand. Lennier would never let harm come to her. He can trust the other man to counter her in times when he might back off and, through his ignorance, unknowingly allow her to do something unnecessarily dangerous. He’s always counted on Lennier to come to him and tell him, ‘Go to her, you must stop this.’ Or to follow on his own and do what he can to protect her, in places a Human cannot go. They are an odd team, but they both love her, and in that they have been a united front. They are stronger for their cooperation, though they have both sometimes resented it.
Despite all of this, he finds that he doesn’t half mind the idea of having his wife to himself for a change. Does that make him selfish? He watches her for another long moment, sees the way her eyes are red and swollen, how her jaw is tight and her lips press together. The candle is casting strange shadows on her face, but he’s fairly sure there are tears hanging onto her eyelashes. And he makes a decision.
It’s not hard to guess where Lennier will be - he and Vir have met at the same place every week or so since early in both their tenures here. He always found it rather amusing, the hard-drinking Centauri and the sober Minbari sitting side by side, engaged in mutual soliloquys, neither of them especially seeming to listen to each other. And yet, they both seem to get what they need out of the arrangement. They’re there again, tonight, just as he predicted. Vir will need the comfort, if Londo dies, and Lennier... Lennier needs it no matter what happens. They both look as though they’ve lost their best friend.
It’s on the tip of his tongue to call the Minbari man’s name, to pull him away from Vir and talk some sense into him, make him stay, for her sake, for all their sakes, and he knows that if he plays his cards right he can do it. She’s hurting, Lennier. She needs you. You know her so much better than I do, I can’t... we can’t do this without you. What would it mean to say those words? What Pandora’s box would he be opening, if he convinced Lennier to stay, if he played on the young man’s sense of duty and his love of Delenn, used his morals to beat away his better judgment?
For Minbari, three is sacred.
Yup. That’d be how it would end, he has no doubt. He and Lennier are both too incapable of denying Delenn anything for it not to end that way, once she’d gotten the thought in her head, and as much as she pretended she hadn’t, he knew damned well it had occurred to her. He just knows. He can see it in her eyes when she said it. And he’s not ready for that. Not at all. But she’d make it happen. She’d push and pull them both gently, so soft and delicate they’d hardly notice it happening, twisting and being oh-so-charming until one day it would happen, and there’d be not a damned thing either of them could do to stop it. And then with the jealousy and the recriminations, the subtle back-biting, the scolding and the fights. It would tear them apart, all three of them. He and Lennier because they both love her too much to share, and Delenn because she loves both them too much to choose, and would be destroyed with the knowledge that she was hurting both of them in the effort to hurt neither.
In his own twisted, self-effacing way, Lennier has taken the single step that could save them all from that choice, from that fate. From that sinking, slow descent. And who is he, John Sheridan, to take that away from the other man?
He already has her. He can at least allow Lennier an honorable exit. He watches them for one more moment from the shadows, sees them both stand, and smiles a tight smile to himself alone when Vir envelops his friend in a drunken bear-hug. This is for the best. For all of them.
It has to be.
He means to go back to his quarters, but on the way he catches sight of Delenn headed in the opposite direction... toward the docking bay. To see Lennier off, he realizes, and even though he shouldn’t, he finds himself following in her footsteps, just far enough behind that she doesn’t notice him. It’s not right, he tells himself, spying on your wife like this. She doesn’t deserve that. But he can’t resist. He just has to know what they’ll say, whether he did the right thing, or whether Delenn will convince Lennier to stay somehow... and what will happen, if she does. It’s just curiosity, he tells himself. He really does trust her. He does. It’s just that he also wonders.
He’s not the least bit surprised that Lennier meant to slip away unnoticed into the night. And he’s not surprised that Delenn reminds the young man of an oath he made to stay with her, though he is somewhat surprised by the content of that promise. And then it begins to settle into place in his mind, all written out like it’s already happened, and maybe it has, maybe that’s what everyone means when they talk about prophecies. Maybe Delenn’s been right all along about all of this being out of their hands, already decided by fate. Because at that moment, even he, the non-believer, the constant skeptic, can see it all so clearly.
In twenty years, he will die. The energy that Lorien gave up to revive him will fade away, and his body will simply... stop. And in that short time, Delenn will be left alone, barely out of middle age for a Minbari. And of course it wouldn’t be fair to expect of her that she’d spend the rest of her days alone. Lennier will come back to her then, he’s sure of it, and the triad will be complete. It’s a frustrating thought, morbid and horrible to John’s mind. But right now, his would-be rival looks so young and helpless in comparison to the other rangers who are gathered here that John can’t even begin to work up a good righteous anger. The soft peaks of his headcrest look almost ludicrously smooth in comparison to the knotted ridges of the men and women around him. And John starts to feel guilty, like the proverbial shepherd pushing a lamb to slaughter.
He could have - should have stopped this before it went so far. For Lennier’s sake, yes, but also for Delenn, who sounds as though her heart is in her throat, breaking into pieces that stop up the rich honey of her voice.
Minbari mentors and acolytes usually have a relationship that remains close throughout the life cycle, he remembers her telling him at some point in the first days of their marriage, when he’d made a half-joking remark wondering when Lennier would get promoted away from the station and into his own career. She hardly ever talks about her own teacher, but when she does it’s with the kind of reverence he usually hears reserved only for gods and prophets among other species. As he understands it, their bond is broken only because the man is several years dead.
And yet here’s Delenn, seeing her own student off into battle and danger because he can’t bear to be with her anymore. For now, a nasty little voice reminds Sheridan. Only for now.
Is it better or worse, to think of it that way?
She watches the phalanx file out with Lennier among them, and she looks so small and alone when they’re gone that he can’t resist making his presence known. She doesn’t question why he’s here, thank god, and leans into him without a word, letting him lead her out of the docking bay. And she doesn’t speak until the door to her quarters shuts behind them.
It’s the last thing that he wants, to sit in his wife’s quarters and listen to her talk about another man who loves her, but that’s what he does. Maybe it’s the universe’s idea of poetic justice for what happened with Anna. He makes tea for her - he even tries to do it the ‘right’ way - and brings it to her on the couch. He wraps a blanket around her shoulders, because she’s shivering, and she catches his hand and squeezes it tight against her sternum. He’s seen them do this, Minbari, when they meet close friends. It’s something to do with keeping the person in their souls, or recognizing that they’re already there, forever. He’s never been too clear on it, but he knows that right now he can feel the sobs trying to catch up to her breath, and he feels like absolute shit for not knowing the words to stop it, to make it all better.
It’s a Minbari thing, he tells himself. It’s nothing you can help with. Nothing you can understand. But he thinks about it, and he wonders what he would feel if someone, maybe Ivanova, had taken this route with him. How would it be to lose someone you thought was your closest friend, because they love you so much they can’t handle seeing you with someone else? And then here’s your bumbling idiot of a husband, trying to make the whole thing better with his stupid jokes and complete lack of understanding about your culture and the intricacies of what you’re going through.
Okay, so that last part he can’t really empathize with. Especially the barbarian thing. But he’s got a feeling for the rest, anyway.
“It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” she tells him. “I should have spoken to him earlier. I should have known that this weighed on him.” At least he’s not the only one feeling guilty, he tells himself, and concentrates on convincing her that she couldn’t have done anything to change it. He knows better, of course, and so does she. But it would all have been worse if it had gone the other way. He has to keep telling himself that, or he’ll call out the fleet and go after the self-sacrificing bastard of a Minbari, track him down and drag him back to the station unconscious if necessary, just to keep that look out of her eyes. Regardless of the consequences.
It’s late - early, really, and too damned close to time for his first meeting of the day, but he’s trying not to think about that - when she finally falls asleep, practically in the middle of a sentence. He doesn’t quite trust himself to get up without waking her, or to get them both safely onto the angled bed while she’s unconscious, so he just pulls the blanket over them both and wraps his arms more tightly around her. She snuggles in against his chest, and the crest of her skull fits neatly under his chin. And it’s so damned perfect, he can almost believe what she says sometimes, that it’s fate that they came together, that they were destined and designed by the universe to restore the rift between their two peoples.
What’s a simple infatuation against that kind of fate? He tries that logic on for a moment, then dismisses it as contrary to his own understanding of the world. That’s for her to think, if it comes to that, and he won’t be the one to put the thought in her mind. He doesn’t believe in destiny. He just believes in chance, in luck, and in hanging on like the devil to whatever good things you find in life. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose.
For the moment, he’s won. If and when Lennier comes back he’ll try to be gracious about it, and remember that the chips will almost certainly fall another way, someday. Hopefully Lennier will prove those ill sentiments about Minbari truly wrong when it comes around to his turn.
I can deal with the fact that my palms sting like nobody's business. But the bruised knee? Really starting to fecking hurt at this point. I look like a damned idiot every time I try to walk somewhere in the house, limping and muttering under my breath, and then trying to stretch the damned thing out to reassure myself that it's not anything serious.
The worst thing is that I feel like a total wimp whining about a stupid bruised knee. And a skinned knee. And two skinned palms. *Headdesk* Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have toddler-injuries. And just when I was feeling pleased with how the stupid burn-blister was healing, too.
Anyway. New LJ interface, I see. I want the old one back, damn it. Must they constantly change things? Apparently so.
I was going to edit this again, since I wrote the last bits of it late last night when I should have been in bed, but right now I'm feeling a little cranky and not at all up to combing through Sheridan-speak manuscript to see if I've buggered anything up. So please, if you see any mistakes, let me know.
Fandom: Babylon 5
Characters: Sheridan, Delenn, Lennier
Disclaimer: I don't own them, don't make money off them, don't mean to infringe. Just playing.
Summary: Set early S5, between and behind the scenes of "The Very Long Night of Londo Mollari." Sheridan POV, and hence very much stream-of-consciousness and slightly odd.
Notes: I've noticed recently that I tend to rely very heavily on dialogue in my writing. Hence, I made an effort to keep the dialogue to a minimum in this. If you have feelings, good, bad, or confused, about this, please let me know! Experimentation does nothing if the person playing around never finds out that everyone else hates it. ;)
Title: The Things You Know
He’s heard it said in the past that under their communal ethic and spirituality, Minbari are arrogant, authoritarian, even cruel. He can’t agree with them, of course - people are people, for one thing. Regardless of species, they’re all individuals - applying adjectives like that to an entire species is both ignorant and dangerous. More to the point, he loves Delenn and can’t imagine applying those words to her.
But every so often, he understands what these people mean. He still doesn’t agree with the terminology or the sentiment, exactly, but he can still see what they’re talking about.
It never actually occurred to her, he realizes, that Lennier might leave.
Never once. Ever since he told her, she’s stared into space as though this calls into question every part of her life, as though if this could happen, then at any moment gravity might stop working, the stars might all burn out at once, the station might fly apart and leave them all sucking vacuum in the cold and the black of outer space. Delenn is an intelligent woman - brilliant, even, at times, and certainly has no lack of understanding of the way minds and feelings work. She has never failed to find the right buttons to influence him, that’s for sure, and her diplomatic record indicates the same of anyone else she’s been in contact with, as well. She was the first to console Susan after what happened to Talia Winters, and later the first to remark on Marcus’ feelings for Susan and the commander’s apparent determination not to return those feelings. The first to recognize their own budding attachment, even, back when he was still in such a flutter that he didn’t know what to make of the feelings that drew him to this enigmatic and charming ambassador. And yet, somehow, she managed to ignore her own aide’s increasing discomfort and distraction.
There are none so blind as those who will not see...
For the longest time, he thought it was just his imagination. They were Minbari, aliens, after all, and Minbari did things differently than humans. He was vaguely aware, from station records he’d examined when he first came aboard, that this was Lennier’s first position outside the temples, and his first impression of Delenn’s aide was of a young man intensely devoted to his work and his mentor. That kind of loyalty was familiar to Sheridan from so many green military officers that he didn’t think twice about it. What did it really matter that the ‘young’ man was more than double Sheridan’s age? Minbari aged at a different rate than humans. He was practically still a teenager, judging by his attitude.
Maybe that should’ve been a hint, looking back, but it still didn’t occur to him for several months. Not until he and Delenn were already dating, and he began to see more of the aide than he would have under normal situations of station business. He saw how Lennier watched Delenn, looked at her maybe just a little bit more than was appropriate for a purely business-like relationship. And yes, he noticed because he was doing the same thing. But that was different. And he noticed how closely Delenn relied on her aide, trusted him with all the little details of her life... and yes, he noticed because he wished that she would trust and rely on him like that. It was dangerous to anthropomorphize aliens, to assume that their gestures and expressions meant the same as a human’s. Dangerous, because it led inevitably to cultural misunderstandings and misinterpretation.
But still, he noticed. And he wondered. And then, finally, he knows that he’d been right all along.
And now he’s leaving.
Maybe other men would be grateful - hell, maybe he ought to be, too. It’s a bad situation, having someone else in love with his wife, especially since it’s someone who spends a lot more time with her than he possibly can. Someone who knows the ins and outs of her schedule - hell, who creates her schedule every day, and spends hours cloistered away with her in any number of rituals that Sheridan knows not a damned thing about. Looking at it with the eyes of cynicism, he supposes that they could have conducted an affair right under his nose, and he would probably never have even realized. Maybe he’s fooling himself, but he just can’t imagine it. It’s part of that Minbari arrogance people talk about, he thinks - the feeling that they simply wouldn’t. They would see themselves as above that kind of deception, he thinks, and the idea of Lennier or Delenn doing anything so improper is so bizarre that he would almost laugh about it, if it weren’t also so contrary as to be almost disturbing. He supposes it’s wrong to limit, to dehumanize the other man that way, but he can’t help it. Lennier strikes Sheridan as almost priest-like in his adherence to rule and regulation and ritual, and that attitude doesn’t mix with even the thought of sex in the human’s mind. Thank god for that, at least. And while he certainly doesn’t regard Delenn as asexual or untouchable - thank god for that - he can’t imagine her betraying his trust that way.
Other ways, maybe - he does still remember the situation with Anna, and he can’t help wondering whether there might not be other secrets that she has simply decided he doesn’t need to know. Sins of omission, he knows her capable of. Sins of commission, true betrayal of their marriage... those he still feels free to doubt. She’s too good, too moral, too focused on a spirituality that he respects but doesn’t entirely understand, to do something like that.
And right now, that spirituality seems to be the only thing on her mind. She’s sat in front of that damned candle for the last three hours, ever since Lennier left their quarters, after she confronted him with the knowledge that he was leaving. He’s seen her go through this before, many times - she’ll just sit and meditate for hours at a time, lost in mysteries that he neither can nor especially cares to comprehend. He leaves the world of prophecy and fate to her capable hands. And to Lennier, who has always knelt by her side in these times, ready and able to coax her back to the world of the living with gentle words, a glass of water, a keen understanding of how far she can push herself without danger.
“Delenn?” He kneels awkwardly at her side, touches her arm - is it dangerous to wake someone out of this kind of trance too quickly? He remembers reading something like that, but maybe it was sleepwalkers, or telepaths, or something like that... “Sweetheart, you should eat something...”
She doesn’t even open her eyes. “This is our way, John. I will come back when I am ready.”
You don’t understand. You are only Human.
She doesn’t say it, of course, but the words dangle behind, twisting in and out of her tone. The certainty that he is Other, that he can’t comprehend the subtleties of Minbari ways. He’s just the stupid Human. He inadvertently maligns sacred practices with his boorish, barbarian ways. He falls asleep when they try to meditate. He snores.
And he’s about to be left alone with her. It isn’t right to feel panicked at this thought, of being alone with his own wife - that’s the way it’s supposed to be! But he’s long regarded Lennier as something of a buffer - a safeguard, for the times when Delenn does something that he doesn’t understand. Lennier would never let harm come to her. He can trust the other man to counter her in times when he might back off and, through his ignorance, unknowingly allow her to do something unnecessarily dangerous. He’s always counted on Lennier to come to him and tell him, ‘Go to her, you must stop this.’ Or to follow on his own and do what he can to protect her, in places a Human cannot go. They are an odd team, but they both love her, and in that they have been a united front. They are stronger for their cooperation, though they have both sometimes resented it.
Despite all of this, he finds that he doesn’t half mind the idea of having his wife to himself for a change. Does that make him selfish? He watches her for another long moment, sees the way her eyes are red and swollen, how her jaw is tight and her lips press together. The candle is casting strange shadows on her face, but he’s fairly sure there are tears hanging onto her eyelashes. And he makes a decision.
It’s not hard to guess where Lennier will be - he and Vir have met at the same place every week or so since early in both their tenures here. He always found it rather amusing, the hard-drinking Centauri and the sober Minbari sitting side by side, engaged in mutual soliloquys, neither of them especially seeming to listen to each other. And yet, they both seem to get what they need out of the arrangement. They’re there again, tonight, just as he predicted. Vir will need the comfort, if Londo dies, and Lennier... Lennier needs it no matter what happens. They both look as though they’ve lost their best friend.
It’s on the tip of his tongue to call the Minbari man’s name, to pull him away from Vir and talk some sense into him, make him stay, for her sake, for all their sakes, and he knows that if he plays his cards right he can do it. She’s hurting, Lennier. She needs you. You know her so much better than I do, I can’t... we can’t do this without you. What would it mean to say those words? What Pandora’s box would he be opening, if he convinced Lennier to stay, if he played on the young man’s sense of duty and his love of Delenn, used his morals to beat away his better judgment?
For Minbari, three is sacred.
Yup. That’d be how it would end, he has no doubt. He and Lennier are both too incapable of denying Delenn anything for it not to end that way, once she’d gotten the thought in her head, and as much as she pretended she hadn’t, he knew damned well it had occurred to her. He just knows. He can see it in her eyes when she said it. And he’s not ready for that. Not at all. But she’d make it happen. She’d push and pull them both gently, so soft and delicate they’d hardly notice it happening, twisting and being oh-so-charming until one day it would happen, and there’d be not a damned thing either of them could do to stop it. And then with the jealousy and the recriminations, the subtle back-biting, the scolding and the fights. It would tear them apart, all three of them. He and Lennier because they both love her too much to share, and Delenn because she loves both them too much to choose, and would be destroyed with the knowledge that she was hurting both of them in the effort to hurt neither.
In his own twisted, self-effacing way, Lennier has taken the single step that could save them all from that choice, from that fate. From that sinking, slow descent. And who is he, John Sheridan, to take that away from the other man?
He already has her. He can at least allow Lennier an honorable exit. He watches them for one more moment from the shadows, sees them both stand, and smiles a tight smile to himself alone when Vir envelops his friend in a drunken bear-hug. This is for the best. For all of them.
It has to be.
He means to go back to his quarters, but on the way he catches sight of Delenn headed in the opposite direction... toward the docking bay. To see Lennier off, he realizes, and even though he shouldn’t, he finds himself following in her footsteps, just far enough behind that she doesn’t notice him. It’s not right, he tells himself, spying on your wife like this. She doesn’t deserve that. But he can’t resist. He just has to know what they’ll say, whether he did the right thing, or whether Delenn will convince Lennier to stay somehow... and what will happen, if she does. It’s just curiosity, he tells himself. He really does trust her. He does. It’s just that he also wonders.
He’s not the least bit surprised that Lennier meant to slip away unnoticed into the night. And he’s not surprised that Delenn reminds the young man of an oath he made to stay with her, though he is somewhat surprised by the content of that promise. And then it begins to settle into place in his mind, all written out like it’s already happened, and maybe it has, maybe that’s what everyone means when they talk about prophecies. Maybe Delenn’s been right all along about all of this being out of their hands, already decided by fate. Because at that moment, even he, the non-believer, the constant skeptic, can see it all so clearly.
In twenty years, he will die. The energy that Lorien gave up to revive him will fade away, and his body will simply... stop. And in that short time, Delenn will be left alone, barely out of middle age for a Minbari. And of course it wouldn’t be fair to expect of her that she’d spend the rest of her days alone. Lennier will come back to her then, he’s sure of it, and the triad will be complete. It’s a frustrating thought, morbid and horrible to John’s mind. But right now, his would-be rival looks so young and helpless in comparison to the other rangers who are gathered here that John can’t even begin to work up a good righteous anger. The soft peaks of his headcrest look almost ludicrously smooth in comparison to the knotted ridges of the men and women around him. And John starts to feel guilty, like the proverbial shepherd pushing a lamb to slaughter.
He could have - should have stopped this before it went so far. For Lennier’s sake, yes, but also for Delenn, who sounds as though her heart is in her throat, breaking into pieces that stop up the rich honey of her voice.
Minbari mentors and acolytes usually have a relationship that remains close throughout the life cycle, he remembers her telling him at some point in the first days of their marriage, when he’d made a half-joking remark wondering when Lennier would get promoted away from the station and into his own career. She hardly ever talks about her own teacher, but when she does it’s with the kind of reverence he usually hears reserved only for gods and prophets among other species. As he understands it, their bond is broken only because the man is several years dead.
And yet here’s Delenn, seeing her own student off into battle and danger because he can’t bear to be with her anymore. For now, a nasty little voice reminds Sheridan. Only for now.
Is it better or worse, to think of it that way?
She watches the phalanx file out with Lennier among them, and she looks so small and alone when they’re gone that he can’t resist making his presence known. She doesn’t question why he’s here, thank god, and leans into him without a word, letting him lead her out of the docking bay. And she doesn’t speak until the door to her quarters shuts behind them.
It’s the last thing that he wants, to sit in his wife’s quarters and listen to her talk about another man who loves her, but that’s what he does. Maybe it’s the universe’s idea of poetic justice for what happened with Anna. He makes tea for her - he even tries to do it the ‘right’ way - and brings it to her on the couch. He wraps a blanket around her shoulders, because she’s shivering, and she catches his hand and squeezes it tight against her sternum. He’s seen them do this, Minbari, when they meet close friends. It’s something to do with keeping the person in their souls, or recognizing that they’re already there, forever. He’s never been too clear on it, but he knows that right now he can feel the sobs trying to catch up to her breath, and he feels like absolute shit for not knowing the words to stop it, to make it all better.
It’s a Minbari thing, he tells himself. It’s nothing you can help with. Nothing you can understand. But he thinks about it, and he wonders what he would feel if someone, maybe Ivanova, had taken this route with him. How would it be to lose someone you thought was your closest friend, because they love you so much they can’t handle seeing you with someone else? And then here’s your bumbling idiot of a husband, trying to make the whole thing better with his stupid jokes and complete lack of understanding about your culture and the intricacies of what you’re going through.
Okay, so that last part he can’t really empathize with. Especially the barbarian thing. But he’s got a feeling for the rest, anyway.
“It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” she tells him. “I should have spoken to him earlier. I should have known that this weighed on him.” At least he’s not the only one feeling guilty, he tells himself, and concentrates on convincing her that she couldn’t have done anything to change it. He knows better, of course, and so does she. But it would all have been worse if it had gone the other way. He has to keep telling himself that, or he’ll call out the fleet and go after the self-sacrificing bastard of a Minbari, track him down and drag him back to the station unconscious if necessary, just to keep that look out of her eyes. Regardless of the consequences.
It’s late - early, really, and too damned close to time for his first meeting of the day, but he’s trying not to think about that - when she finally falls asleep, practically in the middle of a sentence. He doesn’t quite trust himself to get up without waking her, or to get them both safely onto the angled bed while she’s unconscious, so he just pulls the blanket over them both and wraps his arms more tightly around her. She snuggles in against his chest, and the crest of her skull fits neatly under his chin. And it’s so damned perfect, he can almost believe what she says sometimes, that it’s fate that they came together, that they were destined and designed by the universe to restore the rift between their two peoples.
What’s a simple infatuation against that kind of fate? He tries that logic on for a moment, then dismisses it as contrary to his own understanding of the world. That’s for her to think, if it comes to that, and he won’t be the one to put the thought in her mind. He doesn’t believe in destiny. He just believes in chance, in luck, and in hanging on like the devil to whatever good things you find in life. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose.
For the moment, he’s won. If and when Lennier comes back he’ll try to be gracious about it, and remember that the chips will almost certainly fall another way, someday. Hopefully Lennier will prove those ill sentiments about Minbari truly wrong when it comes around to his turn.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2006-12-14 02:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-14 07:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-14 06:50 am (UTC)If I were to suggest anything it would actually be more dialogue--but then, I'm a sucker for dialogue.
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Date: 2006-12-14 07:44 am (UTC)So'm I, usually, but when I started this one it came out with a lot less than usual, so I decided to go with that and see where it took me. It was kind of a fun exercise, if nothing else. I'm glad you liked it!
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Date: 2006-12-15 12:05 am (UTC)This was gorgeous, and perfectly subtle in its relationship with canon without stepping over into AU. Sheridan's voice is spot-on here, and I think the monologue/dialogue balance works really well, in terms of his character as well as in how well the story works as a whole - there's just so much stuff he wouldn't say, but he thinks things through very logically, even down to how useless he feels for not being able to comfort Delenn enough. I love the way he can idolise her and still see when she's kidding herself, here; I don't think Lennier could ever do that. (And I think Sheridan's probably right about how things would have ended up if Lennier had stayed, too.)
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Date: 2006-12-15 01:58 am (UTC)I'm glad Sheridan's voice comes out well, here - he's a fun guy to try to write. He thinks in such a different way than the Minbari, and that makes his relationships with them kind of fascinating to me. And yes, poor guy, he may not have all the pieces, but he's still got a more realistic image of her than Lennier does... which says a lot for how messed up Lennier's thoughts are, I guess.
I really think that's how it would have happened, too. Delenn's a tricky, determined woman... and she would totally have driven the boys crazy with trying to love them both. I'm so glad you liked this!
And is that your kitty? What a cute picture!
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Date: 2006-12-17 12:39 am (UTC)I think you're right about Sheridan seeing a lot more of Delenn's flaws than Lennier does. He's got the Anna situation to work from there, of course, but even so - I don't think Lennier would ever, ever accuse her of lying, let alone confront her about it.
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Date: 2006-12-17 01:07 am (UTC)Heck, no. In his defense, there's a whole lot of cultural stuff against Lennier saying such a thing, but... still. Poor boy.
mm, bad code, my favourite.
Date: 2006-12-17 03:35 am (UTC)Also, much love for a future with Lennier and Delenn.
Re: mm, bad code, my favourite.
Date: 2006-12-17 07:17 am (UTC)That's my little secret - a big part of this was getting myself prepped for a 'later' fic I've been writing with Lennier and Delenn. I needed to work myself up to it, and this came out of that process. ;)
Re: mm, bad code, my favourite.
Date: 2006-12-18 01:47 pm (UTC)And truly? Then do you mind if I friend you, so I don't miss it whenever it comes out? I very rarely do any fannish things now, so don't feel obliged to add back.
Re: mm, bad code, my favourite.
Date: 2006-12-18 05:23 pm (UTC)You betcha! And I just generally like 'meeting' new people and finding out what they're talking about, so I'll probably add you back anyway. ;)
Re: mm, bad code, my favourite.
Date: 2007-01-09 03:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-18 01:06 am (UTC)Is good... is very very good. Puleeez write some more. :D
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Date: 2006-12-18 02:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-18 02:02 pm (UTC)I've friended you, btw. We have a number of things in common on our interests list.... and I've had my shots. *wink*
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Date: 2006-12-18 05:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-18 04:18 pm (UTC)Hope you don't mind; I've friended you so I can't miss any more of your fics. :)
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Date: 2006-12-18 05:25 pm (UTC)And not in the slightest. Old stuff is in the memories organized by fandom, if you're interested. :D
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Date: 2006-12-18 06:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 06:11 am (UTC)