Paperwork. Always paperwork, thought Pia Nalaar as she sat at her desk. Now the Consul of Allocation, her life now consisted of making sure Aether was directed to the correct places via paperwork that needed to be read and signed (if she approved of what she read), referencing the city's updated maps, and asking her scouts to report to her whether or not districts were being powered. In the couple months since the end of the rebellion and she took her place in the Consulate, things have been running relatively smooth. The arena had been successfully demolished and was being cultivated into a massive park full of fruit-bearing trees, flowers in every color, and streams of water, just as her daughter's dear friend Nissa Revane had suggested. The Dhund was a different story though…
A massive pipe burst and collapsed a tunnel. That had caused a few buildings above to collapse as well. Thankfully, there were no deaths, but there were several injuries. Pia and the rest of the Consul had to pay expenses. Some of the others had to be forced into agreeing to pay for the bills and compensations of those hurt. It was a mess, and her job allowed little room for the inventor to do what she did best: Invent.
She sat back in her chair. It was comfortable, made with leather from a sky whale. Since joining the Consulate, whaling had been reduced, and laws were being put in place to ensure full utilization of the animals' bodies. The leather was some of the best, flexible, study enough to prevent injury, heat, shock, and water resistant; and very shinny. She smiled, thinking about how her daughter, the Pyromancy Chandra Nalaar, was always wide-eyed and fascinated by the massive, extraordinary creatures as a child. She would beam in delight and giggle as they sat on top of the old water tower, watching the rare pod of whales dancing among the Aether splash in the clouds. That enthusiasm carried into adulthood. Even Kiran enjoyed the sight of them.
A dull, stabbing ache in her heart made Pia pause in her work. Her eyes closed and her breathing came out pained. Her beloved Kiran. He was a loving, devoted husband, a wonderful father, a talented inventor and quick smith, a good cook, and damn good in bed. Tears rolled down Pia's cheeks. They only had one child: Their beautiful Chandra. Their only child. And she was a Planeswalker, able to move from one world to another, and it was unlikely Chandra would ever settle down and establish roots. Even if she did, would she settle on Kaladesh? Would Pia ever know her grandchildren, biological or adopted?
The dull ache became painful. It was too unlikely. Kaladesh had too many painful memories for Chandra. Pia started crying softly, putting a gloved hand to her face. She missed him so much, longed for him. Too often she felt cold alone in her bed. She missed the warmth her husband brought her. He would wake her with a shower of kisses. Even after their honeymoon, the passion and love never died. She still loved him. Her sobs grew louder, and outside her door stood her personal bodyguard and formerly a high-ranking member of the Renegades: Venkat. He heard the crying through the door.
It made his heart hurt. He knew Kiran, was his best friend when they were younger and best man at the wedding. He had known Pia for years. Since he became fighting for her, he started developing feelings for her. However, because of her marriage to Kiran, his best friend, how could he ever act on his feelings? He had long ago promised Kiran that if anything ever happened to him, he would look after Pia and Chandra. For five years, he failed to look after Pia. Then he found her again and kept an eye out for her. Then the Consulate started imposing heavier restrictions and laws on the people and the Weldfast was constantly being treated worse. So, Venkat left and joined Pia's cause. Twelve years he failed Chandra. She had disappeared. There was nothing he could do about it now. She was an adult and a traveler, with people who looked after her for him.
A loud sob tore his heart in two. He sighed and turned to the door, knocking hard. He couldn't let Pia cry anymore.
"On-one moment!" he heard, Pia's voice cracking.
Inside, Pia was trying to dry her eyes and look like she had been crying. She wiped her eyes and straightened herself out. "Come in," she ordered.
Venkat entered.
"Venkat? Is anyone with you?" Pia asked.
He shut the door. "No, Pia. Just me," he answered, moving toward the desk. He stood on the other side of the desk from her. "I heard you crying."
"Oh…" Pia looked a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry…"
"For what? You've taken little time to cry," Venkat pointed out, sitting in the chair across from Pia. "I know you miss Kiran. I do too. He was my friend. I'm just sorry I didn't do anything. I didn't even hear about it until Mrs. Pashiri told me.
Pia nodded. "It-it's alright," she assured.
"No, it's not," Venkat sighed, "and it's not alright that your heart has been shattered as it has. No one should ever have to cry. No one should ever had to be widowed or lose their children."
"Thank you."
They fell silent. Pia made no movements to continue working and Venkat was still seated, thinking: Say something, stupid! He looked up to Pia, who was fidgeting now. She didn't have much will to get back to work, and wanted to be working on something. He stood and went to her side where he knelt and took her hands into his. What are you doing moron?
"Why don't I take you out for dinner, just the two of us?" he asked. Bad idea! Back out! This is your best friend's wife!
Pia blinked, shocked. "Dinner? Us?" She felt she had sounded dumb. She looked down, finally realizing her hands were still being held. She felt her cheeks heat up. "Um, okay."
"Really?" Venkat asked, his usually deep voice softening.
Pia smiled and nodded. "Yes. Dinner sounds nice right now," she answered.
Venkat also smiled and brought Pia to her feet, still holding her hands. "Um, Pia?"
"Yes?" She looked at him.
Venkat closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I would like to be in a relationship with you." There! I said it! He groaned. "Yeah, I'm bad at this. I know you'll never look at me the same way. How could you? You were married to my best friend, but my feelings are there all the same. We can forget I said anything I'll just go back to being your bodyguard. I'll be outside if you need anything, okay?" He let go of Pia's hands and moved to the door, feeling embarrassed. Then he heard a snort and a giggle.
"Venkat…" Pia giggled.
He turned and saw the tears had returned, despite her giggling. He sighed again and returned to her. "Pia, are you okay?" he asked.
"Yes and no," Pia answered. "I owe Mrs. Pashiri a drink though." She rubbed her eyes. "Venkat, as much as I want Kiran back, I have to…Move…On." Five words, and they were the hardest words she ever had to say. "I've been alone for so long, and I want…I need to feel love again."
Venkat pulled her into a hug. "Pia, I get what you're saying. You were never alone though. Kiran was with you for all that time, making you strong. His spirit made us all strong. He made sure you survived the Dhund, gave me the strength to leave the Consulate, made Mrs. Pashiri keep working, guides Rashmi's hands, and brought Chandra back."
Pia bit her lower lip, head against Venkat's chest. Her vision blurred with tears. "You're right," she whimpered, voice cracking again and body shaking.
"No one can ever replace him," Venkat added, "and I don't plan on it."
"Good. Because I think that would only hurt."
"It would." Now Venkat was crying, trying as hard as he could not to. "Whatever pace you want Pia, I'll be patient. I'll wait until the end of days for you."
Through her tears, Pia saw Kiran, grinning at them. She blinked once, and he was gone. He wanted this for them, wanted them to be happy. Venkat kissed her head, and just held her close. He looked to his right and saw Kiran. He approved. Good. He would never have done so if he didn't. And they stood there for a time, just holding each other, and Kiran watched over them. No one was going to ruin this.
It's time to move on, Pia thought peacefully.