by TylerRose.
“Well isn’t that just peachy. So the only way to find him is to perform systematic visual surveys of every square mile in Northwest Ohio,” Jerome said.
Exactly what he’d done that morning.
“Pretty much. Unless you get your hands on a very powerful telepath who can penetrate the inhibitor.”
“Hey, I just happen to have one of those,” Jerome said.
Glancing around, Tyler saw the room had emptied. Only Landra Ahr remained with them.
“This is very difficult,” she said in Voranian, and didn’t mean walking.
“It is.”
His left hand came up, fingertip tracing the rings on her left hand. The blue on the first finger and the green on the second.
“I approved of this?”
“You did. The blue was first. You liked them because they matched my eyes at the time.”
“But—This wearing is not allowed after the union is dissolved,” he protested.
“No, no, no. You told me I could not wear it around my neck or wrist. You said nothing about a ring.”
Their walk paused as he glared down at her. “Skirting the rules as always,” he accused.
“It is not my fault if the rule made is not complete. I will say that Encito knew about it and never altered the rule. I need to sit.”
They turned and went to the window seat. She took her customary position and he sat opposite her, holding her hand to look at the rings again.
“Did you come back to me of your own accord the second time?” he asked with sincere curiosity.
“No. You came to my rescue again. Earnol was going to send me to Quarint for going to Earth.”
“That’s not much reason. It’s your home.”
“He doesn’t need reasons, only pretexts. It is the same now. If he knew of my existence, he would make up any reason to be rid of me. Why are my nails cut?” she suddenly asked.
“I trimmed them to prevent you from harming yourself or your friends should your addiction get away from you.”
“You had no right to do that.”
“Of course I did,” he said, flat and undeterred. “I have every right to see to the safety of those around an addict. You would know that.”
She glared hard and angry at him but said nothing. Eyes going out to the room and seeing for the first time that her cd shelves were bare. They’d been stacked for dealing with later. Most of her knickknacks were gone but the journals remained. She held out her hand and the book containing their first marriage sped through to air to her. She offered it to him.
The book fell open to the center, to the thin black enamel bracelet rich with gold symbols of the Emperor of Voran. The Emperor’s gift of familial love. Shestna’s breath rushed out upon seeing it. A fingertip traced a curve.
“Possession of this alone speaks volumes. He rarely gives one of these to a new bride.”
“I never wore it after you were killed,” she said, hugging her knees. “I couldn’t.”
“You have every right to wear it whenever you wish,” he said, taking it from the page. “It does not belong closed away in a book on a shelf.”
He reached to slide it over her left hand and she pulled away unexpectedly sharp.
“No. I can’t.”
Not to be stopped, he recaptured her hand and placed the thin circle on her palm. He closed her fingers with diligence.
“Wear it when you choose, Femina. When you wish, because you wish. It is part of who you have been and who you are now.”
He turned pages to another bracelet, this one solid gold with raised gold lettering.
“You have them both?” he questioned, as if such a thing was unheard of.
“The solid gold one he gave to me on our first introduction, during the seven day marriage. Your brothers and sisters lined up to put their bracelets on me, then he put his on at his throne. The second he gave to me after we married permanently.”
“He must have been very fond of you indeed.”
“Read and you’ll see for yourself,” she said.
He turned back to the beginning of the book to read page after page of her most private, personal, and blatantly honest thoughts. When he neared the last pages, she reached out and a second book came to her hand. Closing the first, he stared at her for a long moment and she stared back in that silence. She took the first book and handed him the second. He began to read without a word or a thought between them. He read events of a future that would never be. For her a painful past, for him a wish that could never be fulfilled.
The book closed in his hands halfway through, where she’d stopped writing.
“Femina,” he whispered, fingers gently grasping hers.
A third book came to her and she pressed it into his hand.
“I cannot read anymore.”
“Read,” she insisted. “You should know exactly what Earnol and Solomon have denied you and what it cost me.”
“This is a different timeline,” he said. “Different people are we all except for you and Solomon.”
“Not so different as you might think, Sta. Some of you are mighty consistent no matter the timeline.”
He smiled genuinely at her and read, at last closing the volume and releasing a tortured sigh. He regarded her with hard eyes.
“You do me great honor, Femina. Know that I am your ally without question. Call to me. Ask of me. You will have what you need.”
Having no reply, she left the window seat to put the bracelet into the bottom drawer of her jewelry box. She gave way to a fresh flood of tears and he was behind her in an instant, hands grasping her upper arms before one wrapped around below her clavicles in the manner he had always done.
“I’ve missed you so much, Sta.”
The torrent stopped abruptly, emotions reined in, and she walked away.
“But it’s not you. We’re like two amnesiacs who remember different versions of the story. But yours only goes up to Crecorday and that’s it,” she said bitterly.
“Through your words, I know I was to have a future with you, Femina. That is enough for me.”
“Don’t call me that!” she gritted, back to him and arms tensing like she was going to turn around and slug him.
“It is what I have always called you, by your own words in your own hand.”
“You aren’t him.”
“No. I am not. But you are still she.”
One thing hadn’t changed. He still had the final answer for everything.
She sat on the floor to sort the discs and inserts into piles, needing some task to take her away from raw emotions she’d not been prepared for. She set aside a good case to make copies of to replace the broken and missing ones. He sat to help her.
“Julian tells me you’re on the Council in this timeline. Good for you.”
“Thank you.”
“How is Alila? I have missed her greatly.” His mother, the Empress of Voran, who had treated her as much like a daughter as any woman could.
“She is well. Pestering me to take a harem and give her more grandchildren, as always.”
She chuckled. “Some things never change.”
The A section finished, she floated them up to their places facing outward on the shelf. Jerome came to the open door to see them side by side on the floor. A row of cases floated up to the wall.
“Are you coming down for supper? It’ll be ready in a few minutes,” he asked quietly.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You need to eat, Ty. You haven’t had a bite in twenty four hours.”
“I’m not hungry,” she repeated.
“You will join the household for its meal, Femina,” Shestna said in Earth English with a particular firmness to his tone. “You will eat.”
She scowled but said nothing, finishing the reassembly of her wall display.
“It’ll be about fifteen minutes,” Jerome said.
Shestna looked up to him with a curt nod. “We will be there.”
Jerome went down and t
hrough the kitchen to find Julian on the deck.
“Can we talk?”
“That’s why I’m here,” Julian replied.
Jerome told of Shestna’s command that she join the meal, ending with “That’s not the Tyler I know.”
“Yes it is, and he is almost identical to the Shestna she knew.”
“So?”
“There is no one to whom Tyler submits.”
“That is my point,” Jerome said.
“No one except the one who is stronger than she,” Julian amended. “No one except the one who is closest in her intimacy. That one trusted soul. Voran is very male. Women do as they are told, in large part, and she was fully integrated into that society for nearly a year before she was ripped from it. She would have stayed with him for the rest of her life, happy in that role. That was her plan. She is accustomed to shutting her trap and doing as he says.”
“I don’t like it,” Jerome complained. “Not one fucking bit.”
Julian chuckled lightly. “Now you need to stop a minute and think. Last week, to whom did she acquiesce? To you. Only to you.”
He paused to let that sink in. Jerome’s brain stopped cold. He was right. “What am I missing?”
“She is the strongest female you’ve ever known, right? Always in control?”
“With exception of crap like last night, yes,” Jerome followed.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to turn that over for a while now and then? Wouldn’t it be nice to let someone else decide the hundred and one things that make up a day? To live and enjoy a peaceful day without people pulling you in twenty different directions?”
Jerome leaned over the rail to look out on the field and stand of trees behind the warehouse. “Yeah, that it would.”
“That is what she had with Shestna and what she allows with you when you are alone with her. He was her shelter. Her greatest love. The one she gave up her entire life to be with. The only man she ever allowed to own her, as Voranian wives are technically property.”
They were silent a moment.
“He going to try to take her now?” Jerome asked.
“No. He is here to help her through the Rovan. Nothing more than that except, perhaps, to satisfy his own curiosity.”
Jerome accepted the answer.
“He does know about you and that you are close to her. He respects that you two have strong feelings for each other.”
Jerome turned to lean his side against the rail and stare at Julian.
Julian grinned at the expression. “I am the man in the middle, Jerome. I see everything. When are you going to stop wasting time and tell her you love her? She will never say it first. You must know that.”
Jerome sighed out the tension of the last two days. “The timing is always wrong. Neither of us could afford the emotional attachment before Adamantine came. And now…”
Addiction, withdrawal, Shestna appearing from nowhere.
“No. Not now. Sometimes the best love is the one shared but not declared.”
“How philosophical of you. Not going soft are you?”
Jerome laughed a burst. “I’m becoming seasoned,” he rolled his eyes.
“Ewwww! That’s worse.”
“I know!” A pause. “I didn’t say it before. Thanks for coming to Sanctuary and here,” Jerome said. “Thank you for bringing something that would help.”
Julian slapped him on the back. “I hate the circumstance, but it is my duty as her Adjutant, and my personal pleasure, to help her. I am the Watcher.”
Jerome shook his head. “You’re the Watcher. Landra is the Sentinel. What the fuck am I? Guard dog?”
“You really wanna know?”
“I’m almost afraid to know. But yeah.”
“You are the Keeper.”
“Keeper of what?” Jerome asked.
“Two of the greatest power sources in this galaxy,” Julian said, turning around to see Shestna holding the door open for Tyler to walk through. “One inside of you and the other inside that beautiful woman. You are the Keeper of the Witness, Jerome. You see to her personal well-being and protection. So, yes. You are the guard dog.”
“Woof,” Jerome grimaced.
“Where do you want to sit?” Shestna was asking.
“I need sunlight.”
He pulled out a chair for her and she sat. Fatigue plain on her face, she was silent while he poured a glass of water for her and put it into her hand. Gable came out with the heaviest platter and introductions were brief.
“I’m okay,” Tyler replied when Gable asked how she was feeling and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“You certainly look better than the last time I saw you.”
Star and Roc brought out the last bowls and platters. They all sat around the table. Dishes passed around the circle, Shestna reached to take every bowl or platter that came by. She shook her head at them all, refusing food. Shestna spooned out a small portion or speared a small piece onto her plate anyway before serving himself. Curled up in the chair, she sipped the water and absently stared out over the treetops, listening and feeling. Shestna tapped her plate with his fork to prompt her to eat, ignoring glances around the table.
“You must eat if you want to beat this,” he said in Voranian a moment later.
“I told you I’m not hungry,” she replied in kind. “I’m too tired to eat.”
“It is because you do not eat that you are tired,” he contradicted.
“I’m not going to argue about it.”
“Good. You will now eat.”
She was on her feet and walking away. “You’re not my husband,” she said, climbing the stairs.
“Femina, stop.”
“Don’t call me that!”
He threw his napkin onto the table and made to rise. Julian stopped him with a hand and pushed Jerome with the other. Jerome went after her, finding her standing some ten feet back from the edge of the roof, hugging herself and looking out to the woods alongside the property. Her own view from the windows directly below. She flinched inside her skin as his arms came around to hold her close.
“A little overwhelming, huh?” he asked.
She nodded mute and eyes misty.
“I bet he was the last person you ever expected to see.”
She nodded.
“Stirs up a lot of shit, don’t it?”
Another nod.
“I’m sorry you have to go through this, babe. I’d give anything to be able to make it better for you.”
“I know,” she said, in control of her emotions again. “I thank you for the sentiment. I’ve been in limbo for so long, my feelings for him never reconciled. I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel.”
“What’s to reconcile? You loved him enough to marry him twice and he was taken from you too soon. That never goes away.”
She made no reply, remembering that Monica’s death was enough like yesterday for him too.
“It if helps, I have it on good authority that Shestna won’t be trying to make you love him.”
“He never did. He never pursued me in the first place. He was there when I needed him to be and did exactly as I needed him to do without being asked. Like you do. That was enough. He saved my life. There’s a lot about my previous life I’ve not told you. I should have.”
“You don’t owe me any explanations, Ty. You don’t have to tell me a damn thing. You and I have this mutual respect and understanding thing happening. I have a past. You have a past. Let’s leave them there. We don’t have to know all the details.”
Her hand came up to hold his forearm, comforted by his non-threatening, non-possessive attitude. She looked down, the arm not feeling right.
“Did you shave your arms?” she asked, thinking it a weird thing to do.
“You did that last night. Sent a pyro blast at me so hot it took the hair right of my arms and gave me a little sun burn. I countered it. It’s fine now.”
Her head jerked up and she took a turning step away, holding his arm betw
een her hands. Disturbed by her own actions.
“I stopped you and Landra took us to Sanctuary. If he hadn’t you might have died,” he told her.
She stared up at him and he gave her time to put her words together.
“I hear everything,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly that. I hear every thought of every person within fifty miles.”
“Me included?” he asked.
“Not sure yet.” Her eyes pinched in pain. “I could have killed you.”
He captured her chin gently. “You didn’t. Now it doesn’t matter.” He kissed her tenderly, gratified that her lips responded. “Will you please come back to the table and eat a few bites? I don’t care how much so long as you have something.”
“Not you too,” she groaned with an eye roll.
“Of course,” he smiled. “I’m not going to issue orders and be all bossy like he is. He may be right, but he’s going about it all wrong. I’m asking you nicely. Will you please come eat supper with me?”
She sighed, a harsh and annoyed sound. “Oooooooookay.”
“Good.”
He took her hand and they returned, he with a better, clearer understanding of Julian’s statement. She was the Witness, the one who saw everything and could influence almost nothing right now, and he was going to take care of her until the end of his days.
The table was half cleared of dinner plates and serving dishes, the remaining food piled onto one platter or in one bowl for picking at. Gable had already returned to the shop to finish his shift. Jerome offered her the plate of bread. She took one piece and buttered it. She ate slowly, ripping off bites.
“Is the pain supposed to come back?” she asked, interrupting the conversation around her.
“It may. Is it?” Shestna replied.
“Don’t know yet.”
“If it does, I’ll give you another injection and that should be the end of it.”
“And the tremor? When does that start?” she asked.
“Any time. I have something for that as well,” he said, reaching into his pocket.
He held up a two inch long rubber band.
“What am I supposed to do with that?”
“Loop it over a finger and swiftly turn your hand back and forth to make it swing,” he demonstrated. “A small thing but quite effective in managing the disruption of the tremors. It gives the tremor something to do and hides the condition. People merely think you play with a rubber band.”
