Disclaimer: B5 does not belong to me. Where's Morden when you need him?
Authors Note: This come about post the repeat of Season 5 - specifically 'Day of the Dead' and 'Objects at Rest,' and, er, the one where Lennier and Delenn meet in Down below without Sheridan's knowledge. Why? Because there is a much better and much more Arthurian way for Lennier to betray the Rangers.
AN2: I've taken some liberties with Minbari prisons. Please forgive. In my defence, the Minbari don't seem to be much for rebuilding, no matter how unsuitable. As for Sheridan's apparent actions - that was my main argument for writing the rest of the story; to explain. See below.
AN3: I began expanding this story into something longer and more complex, but felt it took something away from this scene that I wrote first, (what would be the final scene of the story had I continued it.) So, if you want it expanded let me know. Otherwise - here it is, as written and unbeta'd.
# # #
Qui Sera, Sera,
---------------
(or, The Story of Sir Lennier of Babylon)
----------------------------------------
She entered the cell silently, her silver slippers gentle on the rough stone.
"Lennier?" He voice echoed fearfully around the room, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. "Lennier, are you here?"
"Where else would I be?" His voice was rougher than she remembered, and too much
like John's in the darkness.
She turned, and saw him. A trickle of blood was causing him to blink rapidly, as it trailed down his left eye. "You're hurt." She spoke as she gathered her robes and hunched beside him.
"Your . . . partner paid me a . . . visit." Lennier looked down, avoiding her eyes.
"Lennier, look at me."
"That would not be. . . appropriate."
She smiled gently, a tease in her voice. "Lennier . . . if you do not look up, you will start walking into things again."
"Or perhaps I will stop." She touched the wound above his eye gently, and he hissed softly with pain.
"Lennier I am, so, so sorry. . . I never,"
"Don't say it." His voice cut roughly across hers. "I do not need to hear your lies."
She pulled back from him. "I never said I loved you."
"You didn't need to. You spoke without words, whispered without voice, I thought. . ." He paused, his fingers busy on the rough hem of his tunic. "You knew I loved you Delenn, and yet still you. . ."
"I never meant to mislead you." Delenn said quietly. "I was just so . . so scared and lost and . . ." Her voice broke off, and she sat down across form him, skirt bunching on the dirty floor. "John and I . . . He. . .You were . . ." She paused, frowning, biting her lower lip in thought. "When I was a child, I imagined I would marry. Not immediately, but one day. I had a . . . a picture in my head, of what he would be like. Loyal, and strong, faithful and devoted to our people . . .and to me. A perfect Minbari. Just like you Lennier." She placed a hand beneath his chin, but he resisted looking at her. "You were those childish thoughts come to life. . . just like my father and brothers. . .the acolytes. . . loyal and good and true and devoted to me, and only me."
"Yet you married him."
"Yes I did. Because I don't love you Lennier. I love him. And it's scary, because of what he is, and what I am now. I'm not the child who dreamt you up. I'm different now, and John is different from anything I could have dreamt of then."
"So I am a discarded dream. I exist for you Delenn. You say as much yourself. And if I am so discarded, why come to me? Why fool me into believing what you never said?"
"Because sometimes John and I are so different, it scares me. I am Minbari at heart, no matter what I may appear. He doesn't understand our culture, or our language, or how I even think! He cannot meditate, he cannot accept what I have always believed."
"You're afraid because he's human. You think you're losing what makes you. . . Minbari."
"What makes me, me." She shook her head. "I could fall Lennier, because of who we are, who am I and he, but I always knew you would catch me if I fell."
"So you came to me. To reassure yourself."
Delenn looked away. "Yes."
"That was selfish."
She bit her lip. "I know." She blinked back tears, wishing she could see his face.
"I still love you."
"I know that too."
"Delenn?" He was looking at her with tired eyes, and she wished suddenly that he had not looked up at all.
"If it were not for him . . . for this war . . . for what you had become. . . " Lennier paused, gathered his thoughts. "If I had met you, before, as that child. . . would you. . . could you love me?"
"I don't know."
"But maybe." He pressed.
Delenn looked at him for a minute. "Maybe." She conceded.
Lennier nodded and looked down. "But you love him . . John Sheridan. Starkiller."
"Yes." She smiled sadly. "I do. In spite of it all. . . I do."
"I always knew that."
"I know."
"Then it's over."
"It has to be Lennier."
"Of course."
A pause.
"What are you thinking Lennier?"
"What I think does not matter. What is, is. What was, was. And what will be. . ."
She stood after a few minutes, gathering herself. He remained seated, in his own thoughts. She sweeped out, head bowed, silver slippers whispering across the stone.
And in his own office, John Sheridan switched off the viewscreen.
You know the drill. Send on the feedback!
Alice
Authors Note: This come about post the repeat of Season 5 - specifically 'Day of the Dead' and 'Objects at Rest,' and, er, the one where Lennier and Delenn meet in Down below without Sheridan's knowledge. Why? Because there is a much better and much more Arthurian way for Lennier to betray the Rangers.
AN2: I've taken some liberties with Minbari prisons. Please forgive. In my defence, the Minbari don't seem to be much for rebuilding, no matter how unsuitable. As for Sheridan's apparent actions - that was my main argument for writing the rest of the story; to explain. See below.
AN3: I began expanding this story into something longer and more complex, but felt it took something away from this scene that I wrote first, (what would be the final scene of the story had I continued it.) So, if you want it expanded let me know. Otherwise - here it is, as written and unbeta'd.
# # #
Qui Sera, Sera,
---------------
(or, The Story of Sir Lennier of Babylon)
----------------------------------------
She entered the cell silently, her silver slippers gentle on the rough stone.
"Lennier?" He voice echoed fearfully around the room, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. "Lennier, are you here?"
"Where else would I be?" His voice was rougher than she remembered, and too much
like John's in the darkness.
She turned, and saw him. A trickle of blood was causing him to blink rapidly, as it trailed down his left eye. "You're hurt." She spoke as she gathered her robes and hunched beside him.
"Your . . . partner paid me a . . . visit." Lennier looked down, avoiding her eyes.
"Lennier, look at me."
"That would not be. . . appropriate."
She smiled gently, a tease in her voice. "Lennier . . . if you do not look up, you will start walking into things again."
"Or perhaps I will stop." She touched the wound above his eye gently, and he hissed softly with pain.
"Lennier I am, so, so sorry. . . I never,"
"Don't say it." His voice cut roughly across hers. "I do not need to hear your lies."
She pulled back from him. "I never said I loved you."
"You didn't need to. You spoke without words, whispered without voice, I thought. . ." He paused, his fingers busy on the rough hem of his tunic. "You knew I loved you Delenn, and yet still you. . ."
"I never meant to mislead you." Delenn said quietly. "I was just so . . so scared and lost and . . ." Her voice broke off, and she sat down across form him, skirt bunching on the dirty floor. "John and I . . . He. . .You were . . ." She paused, frowning, biting her lower lip in thought. "When I was a child, I imagined I would marry. Not immediately, but one day. I had a . . . a picture in my head, of what he would be like. Loyal, and strong, faithful and devoted to our people . . .and to me. A perfect Minbari. Just like you Lennier." She placed a hand beneath his chin, but he resisted looking at her. "You were those childish thoughts come to life. . . just like my father and brothers. . .the acolytes. . . loyal and good and true and devoted to me, and only me."
"Yet you married him."
"Yes I did. Because I don't love you Lennier. I love him. And it's scary, because of what he is, and what I am now. I'm not the child who dreamt you up. I'm different now, and John is different from anything I could have dreamt of then."
"So I am a discarded dream. I exist for you Delenn. You say as much yourself. And if I am so discarded, why come to me? Why fool me into believing what you never said?"
"Because sometimes John and I are so different, it scares me. I am Minbari at heart, no matter what I may appear. He doesn't understand our culture, or our language, or how I even think! He cannot meditate, he cannot accept what I have always believed."
"You're afraid because he's human. You think you're losing what makes you. . . Minbari."
"What makes me, me." She shook her head. "I could fall Lennier, because of who we are, who am I and he, but I always knew you would catch me if I fell."
"So you came to me. To reassure yourself."
Delenn looked away. "Yes."
"That was selfish."
She bit her lip. "I know." She blinked back tears, wishing she could see his face.
"I still love you."
"I know that too."
"Delenn?" He was looking at her with tired eyes, and she wished suddenly that he had not looked up at all.
"If it were not for him . . . for this war . . . for what you had become. . . " Lennier paused, gathered his thoughts. "If I had met you, before, as that child. . . would you. . . could you love me?"
"I don't know."
"But maybe." He pressed.
Delenn looked at him for a minute. "Maybe." She conceded.
Lennier nodded and looked down. "But you love him . . John Sheridan. Starkiller."
"Yes." She smiled sadly. "I do. In spite of it all. . . I do."
"I always knew that."
"I know."
"Then it's over."
"It has to be Lennier."
"Of course."
A pause.
"What are you thinking Lennier?"
"What I think does not matter. What is, is. What was, was. And what will be. . ."
She stood after a few minutes, gathering herself. He remained seated, in his own thoughts. She sweeped out, head bowed, silver slippers whispering across the stone.
And in his own office, John Sheridan switched off the viewscreen.
You know the drill. Send on the feedback!
Alice