The graveside service was almost over. A cold wind was scouring the little cemetery, presided over by one gnarled tree that had spread its branches over this sacred space as long as Serran could remember. The wrought iron fence, something Avon had caused to be made, had always struck their neighbors as odd. She thought of it as mainly keeping those buried there IN, rather than keeping possible predators out. She didn't come here much, finding it eerie and uncomfortable, preferring to fix her eyes on the future, first hers with Val, then on her children's and grandchildren's futures. Avon had come here more often, though, especially after they'd buried his son Torr here so many years ago.

She watched as Gayan moved back. His tribute to his own father had been brief, but from the heart. Though the two had only become acquainted when Gayan was already an adult, a mutually respectful friendship had grown up between them. After that first visit, Gayan had made it a point to stop at Avilla whenever the ship he captained made planet-fall on Darkover, sharing his adventures and often as not asking advice of his father and Avon. They'd backed his career in space, the only place the tall, quiet, sandy-haired man felt at peace. He was now an integral part of Avilla Trading Company, a valued commander and advisor on anything to do with Avilla Trading's far-flung empire.

When Gayan brought them Gabriel, a big-eyed, five-year-old child of a one-night stand, Vila had been given a chance he'd been denied with Gayan, to raise a child of his own. More of a father than a grandfather to the boy, Vila had loved Gabriel unreservedly. When Gabe had married Serran's daughter Liva and Liva's twin brother Lerrys had bonded with Avon's grandson Evan, Vila had seen them as fitting unions that somehow validated his with Avon, bringing full circle the saga of their lives. Vila's happiness when Gabe and Liva's own twins were born had been boundless.

Serran felt Avon stir between her and Cally. Knowing what he was about to do, she put her hand on his arm. "Father, you don't have to; everyone will understand."

He just shook his head. "No, I need…" His voice trailed off as he walked to the place where Vila rested beneath the cold, hard-packed soil. He felt the lack of flowers covering the bare earth, but there were no flowers to be had and the wind would have blown them off anyway.

Looking down, his silent audience of family, friends and workers of Avilla forgotten, he said softly, "There are so many memories of you, I don't know which one I should share." He seemed to consider for a moment. "But perhaps the one that comes to mind now is of the time we first met, as children, when you rescued me, took me to your home and showed me what a loving family life could and should be. Through all the years, the difficulties and more, I think that's the reason our lives here have been the way they were. A loving family is the most important thing to us all and I thank you, for always being there, for being…my lifeline. I've loved you almost all of my life and I will continue to do so." He stepped back, stumbling slightly.

Serran rushed forward to steady him. "I think we should go back to the house now, father. There are guests waiting."

Avon nodded silently.

"Mother and I will play hostess, Father. Don't worry."

"Thank you, Serran." Brown eyes gazed at the dark clouds piling on the grey horizon, a distant look clouding their usually piercing expression. "I'd…like to stay here by myself, just for a few moments longer, please."

"Oh course, Father. I understand."

He watched as Cally and their daughter followed the rest of back to Avilla, then turned to bid a final farewell. Through eyes obscured by tears, he took one last look, then turned toward his home. As he walked, slowly and heavily, Avon remembered all the words spoken by those closest to Vila, the tradition on this world in place of a religious service. It was a good tradition, he thought, one that made more sense than some of the more barbaric funeral rituals he'd discovered during his years in space. The tributes spoken today would remain with him forever. But it would not be enough.

He had reached the house now, vaguely aware of the comforting touches and soft words of understanding as he passed among the people gathered there. Oh, yes, Vila had been a popular man on this world, making friends easily. That was obvious by the number in attendance.

Avon looked around the library, picking out his family. One by one, his eyes rested on them a moment before passing on. He was tired and his head ached, but the thought of lying in that big bed upstairs, alone, was something he couldn't bear, not right now. Maybe not ever.

"I wish I could have been here for you, Avon." Cally's voice gently interrupted his isolation.

"Thank you," he replied, looking briefly into her concerned eyes. He noticed she had donned the Avilla tartan, the plaid Vila had created especially for them both, though this time the brat, or sash, was worn over a black blouse and skirt. He was touched by her kindness and thoughtfulness. "We'll talk later, Cally, just you and me."

She nodded, then moved away to join her daughter, bidding a good evening to departing guests gathering up their belongings and bundling up in cloaks, coats, and capes.

Avon headed away: away from people, away from family, away from well-meaning but ultimately worthless words of comfort. He came to haven in Vila's cluttered, well-worn office. The huge galactic map of Avilla holdings still dominated the room. Ledger books and reference print-outs lay strewn about the large desk, waiting for its owner to return and take up his work. The high-intensity lamp Avon had imported for Vila as his eyesight had gotten worse, remained hovering over the work area.

After a moment's stunned recognition of where his aimless wanderings had brought him, Avon sighed, moving heavily into the room and quietly shutting the door behind him. Hearing the click of the latch, he smiled briefly, remembering so many locks bested by Vila and himself over the years, sometimes even locks meant to stand between them.

Sobering, he made his way around the desk, sinking into the comfort of Vila's cushioned, thread-bare chair. His sitting down in it brought up a soft cloud of dust and scent-Vila's scent. Avon closed his eyes, letting memories wash over him as tears washed down his face. He couldn't remember crying so much before, but then, he'd never lost Vila before, either.

*Avon.*

The voice, one that had accompanied him for forty years, seemed hesitant and fearful. That couldn't be, could it? ORAC was a computer, not a person, no matter its irascible nature.

"Yes," he replied wearily. Best to get over whatever the super-computer wanted. What could be so important, though, as to disturb him now?

*Vila is laid to rest, I take it?*

Pain almost buried Avon, washing over him like a tidal wave. He raised one hand, pulling it down his damp face, feeling the throb of tension and ache there. "Yes, he is, ORAC."

*May I ask what your plans are?* ORAC was asking him, not demanding, as was his nature.

"Plans? There are no plans. My life has ended with Vila's." It was the truth, Avon saw, the literal truth. He could feel the recurring stirrings of his heart as it ran on toward its final beat. What more was there to do?

*And what of your family?*

His family? Yes, he loved them, but they would be fine. They had each other. Most of them were happily married. He regretted for a moment that he wouldn't see their grandchildren grow up, but that was as had to be.

When he stopped to think about it, he only felt bad for Evan. Now a young man with a loving partner, he'd never known his father. Avon couldn't bear to tell him about his own son Torr and how he'd died. How he'd lived, for that matter, something Avon himself didn't know.

Suddenly, Avon knew what he had to do. Perhaps the final thing he could do for the loving family he and Vila had created between them.

*ORAC, please record my next words and send them to Servalan, after I am gone. Bid her come to Avilla, but don't tell her why. Both Servalan and Evan must be present for you to transmit my message. Understood?"

*Confirmed.*

And Avon began to speak.