a/n: And we have reached the end! Please see full acknowledgements at the end of this story. For your convenience, here are the preceding works:
1. Fresh Start
2. Running to the End
3. Growing Pains
4. Grounded
5. Preferences
6. Release
7. Falling
8. Support Systemt
9. The Hard Way Down
10. Wintercaerig
11. Coming to Terms
12. Relic
13. Unconditional
14. Together
15. Release Part II
B'Eall was crying, rather aggressively, copious tears and snot pouring down a face that still held its baby roundness. A stiff breeze passed through the veranda and blew the little girl's red curls into her face. She batted at her rebellious locks, a small growl inserted amongst the sniffles. Miral covered a smile with a worn and wrinkled hand, but the nine-year-old's big sister was not amused.
"You are such a baby," Moira pronounced from her spot on the porch swing. Her opinion was of paramount importance, given her advanced age of twelve. "It's not like you didn't know the stories would end this way."
"But it's so sad!" B'Eall continued to blubber. "They loved each other so much!"
She was being a bit overwrought, Miral reflected as she wiped the child's nose and kissed the faint ridges that trailed down B'Eall's forehead. Miral still missed her father, sometimes terribly, but even she'd done no more than dab a tissue at damp eyes as she'd shared how he'd died over eleven years prior. But perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing, that B'Eall had been so affected by hearing the stories of her great-grandparents. Perhaps that meant the stories would live on for another generation, or even the one after that. "They did love each other very much," Miral reassured the still sniffling child that was now snug in her arms. "And they shared a very long and happy life together. We should all be as lucky as them."
"Grandpa Tom sounds like he was fun," Moira commented. "I bet he would have let me take the shuttle controls." Moira and her father were still embroiled in an argument that had started on their flight here to Qo'noS from where they lived on Deep Space Eight.
"He certainly would have," Miral agreed, but she wagged a crooked finger at her grand-niece. "But that doesn't mean I'm taking sides."
"What about Grandma B'Elanna?" B'Eall asked, poking Miral in the shoulder. "When did she die?"
"Don't be rude, B'Eall," Moira said, flicking the end of her heavy, black braid at her sister. Her sentimentality for her great-grandparents grew exponentially when it meant there was an opportunity to correct her sister. "You're talking about 'e'mamnI's mother, you know."
"Sorry," B'Eall whispered, but Miral smiled her reassurance.
"It's all right, saj." She stroked the little girl's soft curls. "I know your grandfather isn't much for telling stories. Grandma B'Elanna died about three years later. Right after your mother found out she was pregnant with you."
There was no real story to tell there. B'Elanna had vacated the big house in Pacific Heights within a week of Tom's passing and never returned. She'd lived with Joe and Aatto for the rest of her life, remaining hale and hearty until almost the very end. Miral suspected her mother had resented her good health; that B'Elanna had felt it just one more way her Klingon heritage had betrayed her — making her live past so many of her friends and her husband. The Doctor had been blindsided by how quick and complete B'Elanna's decline had been, but neither Miral nor Joe had been surprised. The two siblings had spoken many times about how diminished their mother had been by their father's death; how those last three years she seemed to be living only half a life.
The sound of the front door slamming echoed through the large stone house, and was soon punctuated by shouts and laughter. "It sounds like your cousins have arrived," Miral said. The girls gave squeals of pleasure and bolted from the veranda.
Within a few moments, the tread of a sturdy shoe hit the wooden floorboards of the porch. Too heavy to be her son or his wife, but too light for her husband, Miral didn't bother to turn her face from the distant mountains as she greeted the newcomer with a solemn: "Turdbucket."
"Shrimp," Joe said with a nod as he lowered himself onto the bench next to her. "The girls didn't give you too much trouble while we were gone?"
"No," Miral said with a smile. "Although B'Eall got rather emotional over my stories. Maybe she's a bit too young for them still."
Joe laughed. "Oh, she's fine," he reassured his sister. "That one's just dramatic. You should know all about that sort of thing." He grunted when a sharp elbow landed hard on his ribs.
They chatted about minutiae then, the dozens of tiny details one must address when ten extra family members arrive for an extended stay. "How will you stand so much chaos for a whole seven days, little brother?" Miral nudged him again with her elbow, this time far more gently.
"For my family, I will do my best to endure." He said it with a dramatic sigh, but Miral wasn't fooled. After Aatto's death six months ago, it hadn't taken much prodding to get her lonely brother to join her on Qo'noS. He spent a fair bit of his time alone in the guest quarters, but more often than not, he would join them at dinner, or she'd spot him in the kitchen of the big house, helping one of her seven grandchildren with their schoolwork.
The raucous herd of cousins thundered out of the house, the biggest three tossing a no'Vich ball back and forth, disturbing Joe and Miral's quiet and causing a large flock of cha'par to scatter. "It might be a long week even for me," Miral conceded once she shooed the children and their noisy game further into the fields.
"Remember the trip to Qo'noS when I was nine?" Joe said as they watched the children play. "When Dad got it in his head to try no'Vich?"
Miral started to laugh. "Yes! The look on Mom's face when he said he was going to play. I thought she was going to murder him."
"She nearly didn't have to." Joe smirked. "How many teeth did he lose?"
"At least three," Miral replied. "Was that the same trip as the pIpyuS?" By the shaking, silent laughter Joe gave in response, she knew the answer.
PIpya were a type of Klingon crustacean and a coveted delicacy on Qo'noS. They looked a bit like a Terran lobster, if a lobster were to have tentacles and grow to the size of a small child. "We'd gone to Tareq to see the boat races, right?" Miral asked. "When the pIpyuS went after her?"
Joe's laughter finally subsiding, he nodded. "I'd never heard Mom make a noise like that before or since."
B'Elanna had always been the valiant dispatcher of any hornets or spiders that terrorized her children when they were small, so both Joe and Miral had been shocked at the frightened scream B'Elanna emitted when the pIpyuS' claw scraped against the bare skin of her calf.
Tom had started to laugh. "It's just a giant crab, B'Elanna," he said. "What's the big— Oh, shit!"
Their father's mirth had quickly turned to terror when the pIpyuS spied its newest victim and raised up on its four hind limbs. With its massive claw raised above its head, it was nearly as tall as the fourteen-year-old Miral.
It also moved far faster than it had any right to. Tom jumped out of reach of the snatching claw and fell backwards into a container of yaq'boch. Several Klingon fisherman ran out from behind their booths to help wrangle the beast, but there was no need. B'Elanna had snatched an enormous cleaver off a nearby stand and freed the pIpyuS of its head with one decisive slash.
"This is going to set us back a few credits," Tom remarked once he'd climbed out of the fish barrel. Their mother was still busy hacking the offending crustacean to bits. "B'Elanna, I think you can stop," he called out over her grunts of rage and exertion. A bit of pIpyuS spleen hit him in the cheek. "That thing's gotta be in Gre'thor by now."
"I'll stop," B'Elanna had panted as she landed another blow to the cracked outer shell, "when I'm sure," another swipe to its thorax, "it's dead." She dropped the cleaver to the wooden planks of the pier with a loud clatter, then eyed her fishy spouse. "Gross. You stink."
"We stink," Dad had corrected with a grin, then proceeded to chase his children around the pier with his fish-covered hands.
Even as she smiled at the happy memory, Miral filled with longing. She missed them both so much.
The sun had nearly finished its daily journey to the horizon, and the first stars of evening began to appear. A qanraD sounded a melancholic call — perhaps looking for its mate, or maybe just bidding another day farewell. Miral relaxed against her brother and together they listened to the shouts and laughs of their grandchildren. Soon she would need to call them in for dinner.
But first, a question. One that had begun to trouble her lately, as she passed into her own twilight years. "Do you think Mom and Dad are out there somewhere?" she asked. "Do you think Sto-vo-kor is real?"
"I think," Joe said as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "that wherever Mom and Dad are now, that they're together. And they're happy."
The End
I want to thank everyone who came on this journey with me! I enjoyed writing these stories so much and I'm glad at least a few people enjoyed reading them, too. A huge thanks to everyone that took a few minutes to comment but I want to give a special shout out to max2013, banzi, and tmtcltb because I think they reviewed every single story! I can't tell you how much all the fic authors I know LIVE to hear that people are reading and enjoying their work. It is literally the only tangible reward we get for writing fic, so every single comment counts.
I also can't close without thanking the wonderful ladies of Deck Nine: rsb, photogirl1890, delwin, crlkseasons, and last, but never least, sareki02. I'm so glad we found each other and have been able to support each other in our love of Tom and B'Elanna, however that manifests itself.