Vater der Freude, Sohn der Sterne


Wolfgang Mittermeyer put the newspaper aside and looked up at the sky. With the passage of time, he'd learned to cherish the moments like this, when he could sit on the terrace and occupy himself with nothing more serious than guessing what Eva would prepare for the dinner today. Early on, when he'd only started his career in the military, he wouldn't have suspected to one day be able to spend his time in such manner, yet now he managed to do so perfectly. When he came home, he ceased being the Chief Commander of the Space Fleet, and became a husband and a father instead, a 'normal' citizen. It could be that he simply had gained some distance to his rank, as well as a more practical view on the matter: after all, no-one paid him for bothering with the work in his free time.

The sky over Fezzan was very blue today. It was hardly anything surprising in the galactic capital; the climate was mild here, and the sun would shine on a regular basis. It was a good place to live, in many respects; what Wolfgang, having grown up in the idyllic atmosphere of a small town, especially appreciated was that he could find a real calm even in the most important metropolis of the galaxy. The vicinity of their house, though quite close to the city centre, was full of trees, gardens and parks. The nature was within reach, and its soothing influence had been long since known to anyone. After months in the space, could there be anything better than afternoons filled with singing of birds, and evenings smelling of flowers?

"Vater...?"

Wolfgang started; he hadn't heard Felix approaching. Had it been for anyone else, he would've asked himself whether he was getting old, but now he still had no reason to worry; Felix moved as quietly as a cat, that was all. He tore his eyes off the sky and looked at the boy, who was standing at the opposite side of the table with a slight frown.

"Yes, sonny?"

Felix placed both hands on the back of the chair and kept silent. Although Wolfgang consider himself bad at guessing the emotions of the others - and Felix could hide his emotions skilfully, if he wanted to - this time he was dead sure that his son had something on his mind. It flattered him that the boy - pretty independent for a ten-years-old - came with his trouble to him.

"What is it?" he inquired as Felix was still quiet. "Why won't you sit down?"

The boy moved the chair away and perched on its edge. "It's Alec," he said in the end, in his typical spare way, staring at his lap.

Ah. Wolfgang should have known. Whenever it was Alexander Siegfried in question, Felix would worry for the two of them. He suppressed a smile; the thought of the friendship between the boys always filled him with warmth. "What about him?" he asked cautiously when Felix went quiet again.

"They tease him... They tease him because he has no father," the boy replied, and now there was an anger to his voice. "He pretends he doesn't care, but in truth it bothers him a lot. But he won't talk to me about it," he continued, encouraged. "He would say I don't understand him," he added bitterly. "Well, I know it he's right because I have both parents." Now, once he started, the words came easily to him. "But I'm his friend, I'd like to help him, but he... he just shuts me out and chooses to suffer alone... He doesn't let me help him, while I want to support him..." His voice trailed off.

Wolfgang was observing him intently. "Would you feel better if you had no father, either?" he asked without a second thought, prompted by an impulse. Felix snapped his head up and gave him a confused look. "No, I'm sorry. It was not fair on my part," Wolfgang withdrew quickly, abandoning his resolve, so firm just a moment ago.

Damn. It wasn't easy. Not that he hadn't prepared himself for this particular talk - he had been preparing himself for last ten years, and now the opportunity seemed to present itself - but he should have known that making plans and actually realizing them were two different things. In times like this, commanding a space fleet seemed a piece of cake.

"What should I do?" Felix asked, still staring at him, and Wolfgang ordered himself to return to the topic of the conversation. "Alec is down again, but staying alone won't do him any good, right?" he added with some helplessness and lowered his gaze again; he was clearly downcast.

Wolfgang thought that that sudden desolation must have been as hard for Felix as orphanhood was for Alex. Sometimes the boys, although so different on the outside, seemed twins - so deep was the bond they shared. It was obvious that being apart wasn't easy to bear to either of them. One day, they would learn how to live their own lives... But not yet; they didn't have to learn it yet.

In silence, Wolfgang regarded his son, who was so unlike his parents. Felix was pretty tall for his age, and slender. His face was long, with high cheekbones and eyes in a beautiful shape. Soon, the boy would become a man - would he look with such sadness then, too?

Wolfgang blinked; his chest pained. Sadness. Eva and he gave Felix as much love as they could, to make him happy - so that the name wouldn't be just an empty word - yet the boy would fall into melancholy every now and then. Although there was both understanding and trust between him and his parents, he wouldn't tell them the reason; he would simply get quiet and withdraw into himself, a smile would vanish from his face, and his normally blue eyes would turn grey. It would last for some time, and then he would regain his normal calm and cheerfulness, and optimism. But it was those particular moments that he resembled the most the man he'd inherited that melancholy from, along with the great sensitivity. Maybe in a few years, he would learn to hide it behind an ironic smile and sarcastic remarks...

"Dad...?"

Wolfgang fixed his gaze on the boy, who was staring at him hesitantly, and made his decision. He'd defected earlier, but now he thought it was the proper time, after all. Long ago, Eva and he had agreed that it would be him to tell the boy the truth. Felix was already ten, and protracting wouldn't do. They were lucky that the boy hadn't learned it from someone else... Besides, now it seemed that even Alexander Siegfried could benefit from it, although it sounded like a lame excuse; ah, all the same. However, Wolfgang realized it was more natural this way than if he prepared for it many days and then requested the boy's presence in his study, stating officially, 'Son, I have to tell you something.'

"Come closer," he offered in a most casual tone, moving the chair aside. Astonished, Felix obeyed and looked at him in anticipation. "You wish you could help your friend, yet Prince Alec cuts you off, saying that you don't understand him," Wolfgang repeated the boy's words. "I bet it's not the first time...?" Felix nodded, giving him a close look. "Soon, you will reconcile and everything will be like always... until the next time. Of course, once Prince Alec grows up, he will understand that, no matter how much he agonises over the past, he can do nothing to change it, but now it's still beyond him." Felix nodded again, although he did it somewhat mechanically; still, he was listening intently. "Now, he just needs someone who is in the same situation, to realize he's not alone."

"But how-" Felix started, but Wolfgang silenced him with a gesture.

He looked in the boy's dark grey eyes and cast away the last hesitation. "Felix, what if I tell you that we, your mother and I, aren't your real... your biological parents...?" he asked in a quiet and serious voice.

The boy blinked, and then his eyes grew wide. He said nothing, but Wolfgang didn't rush him. There was nothing to hurry to. He thanked the present system that made adoption something widespread and familiar, as well as all good spirits for the warm sunlight and bird-singing that made that afternoon calm and secure. There was no danger here. The truth couldn't hurt anyone - or, at least, that was what he kept telling himself.

Felix opened his mouth and then shut it again. He didn't avert his eyes, but his irises got even more dark, and his fingers whitened as he clutched at the fabric of his trousers. "Is that true...?" he whispered in the end. He didn't seem disappointed or scared; he was simply surprised, and it was natural.

Wolfgang nodded. "It is."

Felix squinted and then lowered his head. "I suspected it... sometimes," he revealed in a soft voice, then raised his gaze again and suddenly smiled, crooked and pale smile as it was. "My hair is so dark, while both of you are blonds and..." His lips quivered, so he pressed them into a thin line and said no more.

Wolfgang put one hand on his head. His son was a smart boy. "Your father died soon after you were born," he replied as quietly. "Your mother... went missing." He swallowed the lie that wasn't really a lie. "Since you had no relatives, and Eva and I couldn't have children on our own, we accepted you with joy. Be aware that we couldn't possibly love you more even if you were our real son. You are our only child, and we wouldn't trade you for anyone else. But it is also true that we're not related by blood," he added calmly, but then some fear forced him to ask, "Does it change anything?"

Felix stared at him in a serious manner and then, hesitantly, shook his head. Wolfgang didn't want to admit how much he was relieved. Of course, the boy would have a lot of time to think it over... to accept it... and only then he would be able to voice his real opinion; yet, Wolfgang was grateful to him for that very first response. Impulsively, he embraced his son - in a quick, brief and bashful hug - and then looked at him again, his hand still on the boy's shoulder.

"Then... who is... who was my real father?" Felix asked in a quiet tone as if he didn't trust his own voice, which was perfectly understandable; Wolfgang felt his throat was clenching, too. "Did you know him?" the boy looked up at him with a mixture of anxiety and desire for knowledge.

And that look, together with that question, made Wolfgang smile involuntarily, and that smile came from his very heart. During all those years, the bitter grief had turned into wonderful memory. Maybe it was for Felix' presence that he'd been able to believe that even the greatest evil, the most horrendous tragedy could bring about something good...? The fate hadn't been lenient with either of them, and though it wasn't Wolfgang Mittermeyer to pay the highest price, the events from ten years ago made even such an optimist lose faith and turn his back on the whole universe, if only for a moment. Now, however, when the suffering had been done and everything that had come later was like a balm, he could remember good things and leave behind the bad ones. And he could smile to those memories.

"Dad...?"

"Your father was the bravest and the proudest man in the galaxy. He reached for the stars and gave everything to stay true to himself," he said without a second thought, still smiling.

The boy frowned again and gave him a puzzled look. "You don't want to say that my father is... Kaiser Reinhard?" he uttered.

Wolfgang cast an astonished glance at him and, once he realized the boy was dead serious, burst out laughing. "No, sonny," he replied. "But I'm not surprised you conceived it." He couldn't stop laughing, but at the same time he was impressed by the boy's ability of quick thinking and making conclusions, even if missed. "Although," he added after a moment, "it was near that he became Kaiser himself."

"In that case... who was he?" Felix asked with emphasis; he seemed more and more curious.

Wolfgang leaned towards him and stared in the grey eyes solemnly. Although the rebellion of Oskar von Reuenthal undoubtedly faded in people's memory, there was still the risk that the boy would be exposed to unpleasant treatment when the truth spread. Wolfgang would rather take some countermeasures before that happened; if he should reveal his father's name to Felix, the boy would start to search the data, and not all information was going to make him happy.

"Can you trust me? Can you believe when I say that I'm going to tell you soon?" he asked. "And you won't try to find it out by yourself? I have a good reason, but I promise it won't be long," he assured his son. "That's why I ask you for some patience. I'll take a leave, so that we can visit his grave, if you want."

Felix stared at him fixedly, and it seemed two conflicting emotions were fighting in him: desire of independence urged him to pursue knowledge, while loyalty advised trust. Wolfgang thought he knew which of them would prevail - and he wasn't mistaken, for Felix finally nodded in agreement. Wolfgang hugged him again, wondering how to channel the boy's thought so that he wouldn't distress himself over what he'd just learned in solitude.

"I'm glad I've told you that," he said truthfully. "And it seems we managed to solve your initial problem," he added with a spark in his eye. Felix frowned again; apparently, he had managed to forget what it was that he'd come here with. "Now Prince Alec can no longer say that you don't understand him because you have a father, right?" It sounded somewhat harsh, but ten-years-old didn't need subtlety yet. "I think you should make use of that knowledge to support your friendship, as soon as possible," he supplied with a fake unction. Still, he was sure it would really happen and the bond that the boys shared would strengthen even more.

If Felix would rather stay and talk more, Wolfgang would have nothing against it. However, it was more probable that he decided to follow his will - not because he was a submissive child; he simply didn't use to pester others, especially when he knew he wouldn't gain anything from doing so. He sat in silence for a moment, then he gave another nod and rose. He took two steps and then turned back once more to look at Wolfgang shyly - although his words were rather bold, "But you could really tell me something about him," he said somewhat resentful.

Wolfgang looked at his son with love and smiled, realizing that the last burden had been taken off his heart and that life could still offer him a lot of joy. "Then, I'm going to tell you the most important thing. Your father was a good and noble man," he said and then added in a softer voice, "And the best friend in the universe."

A timid smile lit the boy's face, and then Felix bowed slightly. As he walked away, his back was straight and his steps light.

'I love you, my son,' Wolfgang thought, looking after the slender figure until Felix vanished behind the corner. He brushed aside some hair from his forehead and stared at the sky, taking deep, slow breaths.

Just as he'd used to do it frequently in last ten years, he thanked Reuenthal for bestowing such happiness at him. When they met again, he would raise the glass of the best wine in Valhalla to him, and Reuenthal would smile with his crooked smile and drink to him. And then, once they would have talked enough about Felix, they would settle about making plans for their next battle.

The best friendships in the universe never ended.


(The title is obviously German and means 'Father Of Joy, Son of the Stars'.)