Delenn woke to complete darkness. The only clues to her location were the nearly imperceptible thrum of starship engines and the soft whir of the ventilation system. The surface beneath her was hard and cold – the deck of a starship. She had the sense of a vast room, but without light it was hard to tell. She stood, wrapping her one blanket around her, shivering slightly in the chill air.
A door hissed open. Delenn turned toward the sound as footsteps echoed through the unbroken darkness.
"Who's there?" Her hesitant query received no reply. The footsteps continued and she began to discern their origin amidst the echoes. The pattern was familiar, yet she couldn't place it. Someone – someone she knew, could recognize by sight, perhaps even by voice – was coming for her.
Four hundred sixty-three steps later, the footsteps ceased. Delenn could sense the other's presence, close, warm, unthreatening.
"Who are you? Why am I here?" Only after the words left her mouth did she realize how inane her questions sounded. It didn't matter – there was no response.
After what seemed an eternity, her visitor stepped closer – close enough to touch, then a step closer. One more step and he – he? yes, he – was in her space, practically touching her.
And then he did touch her. Feather-light, his fingers touched her face, her hair, her crest. She flinched slightly at the intimacy of it, and the fingers withdrew, though he did not step away. She wanted to move away, to step back, but she couldn't make herself move. Hesitantly, the fingers returned, touching, stroking, caressing. Slowly the fingers gained more confidence as she held still. The next move was hers.