Warnings: None.

A/N: Holy cow, another ST: DS9 story. Who'd have thunk? Not me, that's for sure. I kinda like it though. Definitely not as dark as the other one. But still a bit sad. Ah well. I hope you like it.

Something small slammed into Elim's leg, nearly causing him to fall over and drop the expensive clothes in his arms. The trees on either side of the path wavered as Elim stumbled back, and only years of training in the Obsidian Order kept the Cardassian on his feet. He whirled in a half circle to maintain his balance, steadying the mixture of silk and cotton in his hands and peered down. A human child, no more than three years of age, by human standards, lay sprawled on his back. The boy, his dark hair curling about his tiny ears, blinked up at him several times.

Then the boy sat up and a wide grin grew across the thin face until it was bright with delight.

Elim felt his ridged brow start to furrow. He'd had many a reaction since his arrival on this planet. Starfleet's acceptance of his plea for asylum did little to assuage the disgust of its people. It'd taken months for any town, let alone nation, to even agree to let him live in their borders. Never mind that Elim only did tailor's work. No one wanted to be the first to try this…experiment (for what else could Elim call it?).

Yet here sat a youngling, gazing up at him with open pleasure. Elim bent down to the boy's level.

"You are unharmed?" he asked. It would be just his luck that the boy'd hurt himself running into him. Elim never doubted who would be blamed, should the parents or town ever find out. Thankfully, the boy shook his head, wild curls flying from side to side. Elim let out a relieved breath. "Good."

The boy smiled at him.

Elim cocked his head to the side. "Now, where were you off to in such a rush, my boy? Surely, your parents are nearby."

The smile dimmed and the boy took a sudden interest in the pebbles on the path. Elim raised an eyebrow. Ah, it was like that, was it? But Elim remembered his research saying that humans cosseted their young at this age. Strange. Perhaps, this boy's parents were more Cardassian than the other humans here.

Elim leaned in closer. "Off on an adventure, are we?"

The boy shrugged, his earlier enthusiasm gone.

Elim pressed on. "And where might your sojourn be taking you this day? Are we to travel the vast expanse of space in a starship? Or maybe thwart the logic of a Vulcan?"

He feared he might be using words too advanced for the boy, but the youngling only peeked up at him and giggled.

Elim smiled, resting his clothes on his knee. "There now, that's better. So, tell me, where are you off to so fast?"

The boy pointed to the little cherry tree on the left. "House."

"Your home is over there?"

"House!" the boy insisted, pointing at the tree.

Elim craned his neck further out. "I must apologize, I see no house."

The boy's eyes filled with tears. "Not house?" he whispered.

Elim leaned back in bewilderment. "I'm afraid, I do not know. I haven't been around here much, but I might be mistaken. Your home could be in that direction. Are you lost?"

A single tear made its way down the boy's pale cheek. "Not house?"

"I'm afraid you have me at a loss, my boy. What has gotten you so upset?" Elim glanced past the trees, but from his vantage point he could see no house about.

Wonderful.

The boy wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Not house."

"Yes…" Elim ventured to agree. "Perhaps we could travel together and find it that way?"

"What name?" the boy asked.

Elim narrowed his eyes at this abrupt change in topic. "I'm sorry?"

The boy pointed to the cherry tree. "Not house. What name?"

Elim studied the boy. It could not be. The boy looked normal enough, if a bit tiny in bone structure. Yet what other explanation was there? Elim took a deep breath. "What age are you, my boy?"

"Six." The boy held out two fingers, frowned, and then held out five. More tears sprang up and rolled down his cheeks. "Six…"

Elim slowly reached over and pulled out one finger from the other hand. "Six."

The boy looked down at his fingers. "…six…"

Something clenched in Elim. The poor youngling. Why had his parents allowed him to degrade so far? Surely there were medical means to fix this? Why torture the child so?

The boy offered him a tentative smile, showing him his fingers. "Six."

"Yes, my boy. You're doing it quite well." Elim stroked the boy's hand and tugged gently on his wrist. "Come, let us look at that tree you were so enamored with."

"Tree?" the boy asked, getting up and following Elim over.

"Yes," Elim said. He stopped at the cherry tree and put his clothes in a careful pile at the base. "Come, would you like to see the blossoms?"

"Blossoms?" the boy asked, eyes dowsed yet still tinted with hope.

Elim picked off a pink bud and held it out to the boy. "Blossom. It's a cherry one. Quite beautiful."

The boy cradled the tiny bud in his hands, touching each of its petals with a fingertip. "Pretty."

"Indeed."

"Jules!" a woman's frantic call cut through the air. "Jules, answer me!"

The boy jerked towards the woman voice. "Mommy."

Ah, that helped things. Elim cupped a hand around his mouth. "Over here! He's over here!"

It took but a minute for Elim to catch sight of the female. He waved a red cloth to catch her attention and watched as she hurried over. Her footsteps faltered as she came near enough to see just who was standing with her son. Elim shoved the hurt that caused away. The boy came first. Elim pasted on a genial smile. "They do run fast at this age, do they not?"

"Y…yes," the woman stuttered. She pushed a strand of ebony colored hair behind one ear. It came back anyway. Next, she smoothed her knee length, purple coat, all the while avoiding looking Elim in the eye.

"Pretty, Mommy!" the boy cried joyfully, holding out his cherry blossom bud.

The woman's eyes flickered from her son, to the bud, to Elim in rapid succession. Elim made sure to stay still. Females of any species were most protective of their young. How much more so would this one be, what with her child's mind being so simple? No, better to err on the side of caution in this.

"He was just telling me all about his adventure to this tree," Elim supplied.

The woman's face flashed confusion before clearing. "Oh, of course. Yes. He…he spoke to you?"

"Of course."

"It's just…" the woman pulled her son close to her. "Jules hardly ever talks to anyone."

"Perhaps he merely needed to know he would be listened to," Elim couldn't help but say. It only occurred to him how that sentence might be misconstrued when the woman flushed with anger.

Her features hardened. "Come, Jules, it's time to go home."

The boy looked between them, but nodded, grabbing hold of his mother's coat. The woman glanced down at him and then moved off. Elim watched them until they disappeared into the waving stalks of corn. Poor boy. He hoped his parents found a solution soon. Otherwise, the boy was doomed to live a life of solitude and ridicule.

Ah well, another time.

Elim picked up his clothes again, his mind musing over making a small tunic. One that might fit a certain, little boy perhaps? It would not do harm to sew it.

And that's it. Please, leave a review and let me know what you think. :D