The Cold Destiny

Author: Luna Sealeaf

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Andromeda, am not making any profit from this, it's purely for fun.

Rating: PG-13, just to be safe, since later chapters may become more mature

The Hanged Man

Key Words: Wisdom, circumspection, trials, sacrifice, intuition, prophecy.

"What?" Dylan roared angrily. Even Beka looked a little startled at his vehemence, resting a cautionary hand on his arm to remind him that they weren't exactly in a position of power. He gave her a wary gaze and lowered his voice slightly. "You can't expect me to believe that in your entire history there hasn't been at least one person who's given up their role as Avatars for your gods?"

His question was met by a circle of ancient faces that watched him with no sign of concern for his outbursts. In the center, on a slightly higher seat than all the rest, was the Oracle, or Messir Prévoyant, as the natives called him, and it was he who spoke to Dylan and answered his questions.

"The only way a person may leave the Destiny given to him by the Gods is through death. That is the only rest and reward received by the servants of the Gods."

"But Harper isn't one of you, he's our friend!" Trance interjected. The three of them were tired and frustrated. An eternity surely had passed since they'd last been on the Andromeda. To Beka's mind, even a near death situation was better than this endless politicking. She reminded herself to never, ever, let Dylan get them tangled up in a planet's politics again.

"The Gods know neither borders nor nationalities. It is not for us to question Them." Messir Prévoyant explained.

Dylan said nothing but turned and talked to Beka and Trance in a low voice.

"I think we're out of options…"

"Diplomatic options, you mean." Beka protested. The captain gave her an incredulous look.

"Beka, we're not going to blow their world up."

"No, but they don't know that." She insisted, crossing her arms obstinately. To leave would be to admit defeat; to admit defeat was to condemn Harper to abandonment on a strange world surrounded by strange people. Dylan sighed and brushed his hand across his eyes, feeling a headache starting.

"Alright, I guess it's worth a shot…" He turned around and once more addressed the Council.

"I'm afraid you leave me no choice. Seamus Harper is a member of the Systems Commonwealth and you have no right to hold him here against his will; if you do not release him we will be forced to take aggressive actions." Almost immediately guards stepped forward with weapons raised. Even though he knew they were drastically outnumbered Dylan reached for his forcelance.

"You forget, Captain," The old man's voice matched his dour expression. As he spoke he raised a hand to keep the guards from moving any closer. "Seamus Harper took the trials of his own free will, no one forced him to."

"That's what you think," Beka muttered angrily, but knew they couldn't prove otherwise.

"Unless you are planning to go to war with an entire planetary system, I suggest you leave your weapons out of this. You are a guest on our planet, but I'm afraid that if you keep persisting in your efforts to kidnap our High Priest we shall be forced to arrest you." He stood and left, moving much faster than he looked.

Dylan, Beka, and Trance were left alone with the guards, their situation becoming more hopeless by the minute.

Harper awoke to the sound of singing. For a moment disorientation flooded his mind and he sat up slowly. The music was not the singing of the priestesses and this confused him.

The sound was coming from an open window –which also explained the distinct lack of heat in the room- that led onto a balcony. Bringing a blanket wrapped tightly around him and with teeth chattering so loudly that it nearly drowned out the beautiful song.

In my hands
A legacy of memories
I can hear you say my name
I can almost see your smile
Feel the warmth of your embrace
But there is nothing but silence now
Around the one I loved
Is this our farewell?

There, on the balcony and facing the rising sun, was Esperanza. The dim light cast a golden sheen to her hair, so that it was nearly the same color as his. Dressed in a plain white dress so thin Harper was sure she must feel the frigid air as though it were against her bare skin, she looked rather like an angel might.

She strummed a small stringed instrument while her clear voice sang. Captivated by the sad melody Harper stood and watched her, oblivious to the chill.

Sweet darling you worry too much, my child
See the sadness in your eyes
You are not alone in life
Although you might think that you are

So sorry your world is tumbling down
I will watch you through these nights
Rest your head and go to sleep
Because my child, this is not our farewell.
This is not our farewell.

Her voice ended in a whisper and the last notes were carried away by the breeze. Still Esperanza did not turn or even seem to notice he was there.

"That's a pretty song. It sort of sounds familiar." He commented sleepily. Esperanza turned with a smile; it looked rather sad to Harper, but his eyes were still blurred from sleep, so he couldn't be sure. The sun's new light spreading over the frozen tundra did not help his sight.

"It's a very old song. I doubt you've heard it before."

"It sounded kind of sad."

"That's because it's a true song, at least for me." He had no answer for that, but he did not need one. Her expression resumed its normal sweetness and she took his hand to lead him back inside.

"What were you doing up so early anyway?" He had never seen her rise so early before.

"I was greeting the dawn. Come, we must continue with your lessons before you break your fast with My Lady Alba."

"It's freakin' cold in here! How can they expect me to memorize anything when my brain is freezing?" Harper exclaimed. For what seemed like the hundredth time he stood and paced around his small chamber in a futile attempt to get warm.

Beside the small bed that was his, Esperanza sat on a chair with a large book open on her lap, calm eyes watching him as he paced.

"You must come from a warm climate." She scrutinized him for a moment before continuing. "I wouldn't be surprised if your face turned blue, you're shaking so hard."

"I live on a ship where the climate is perfectly regulated so that it's never too hot or too cold! I used to think planets weren't so bad, but now I'm beginning to agree with Beka, atmospheres suck!" The thought of Beka brought him to a halt and he felt a little guilty for snapping at Esperanza.

"I know you must miss your friends dearly."

"More than I thought I could," Harper admitted. What wouldn't he give to even have just one of them there with him? Trance, Beka, Rev Bem or maybe even Dylan would have made his plight much easier to bear.

"Well no doubt you'll see them soon. You should go now or you'll be late." She snapped the book shut and Harper cringed internally.

"You're not coming with me?"

"I'm just a bard, my Lord. Hardly fit company for the High Priest and High Priestess!"

"But," he felt more than a little panicked at facing Her Holiness all by himself. "Can't you come and sing, or tell a story, or something!" With a rather heartless laugh, in his opinion at least, Esperanza shook her head.

"Entertainment is for late suppers not breakfast! You'll be fine Harper. You're the Hands of the God and don't forget it." Harper blinked.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," She lowered her voice as though to keep others from hearing. "That you are equal to her in every way. Do not fear her."

But as Harper was dressing himself in a smaller room next to the bedchamber he heard Esperanza singing to herself once more.

When leaves have fallen
And skies turned into grey.
The night keeps on closing in on the day
A nightingale sings his song of farewell
You better hide for her freezing hell

Probably she had not meant for him to hear the words. Certainly they offered no comfort whatsoever. Heart heavy with dread, Harper prepared to dine with Lady Alba.

The dinner was, just as he had feared, long and awkward. The people of the temple already thought he was strange; the night he had arrived a dozen or more servants had tried to dress him and bring him food. Feeling rather panicked, Harper had asked them all to go away. The men and women had obeyed at once; so quickly it was eerie.

Somehow he managed not to say or do anything too disgraceful. The clothes he wore were not his own; they were a white tunic and long pants. Lady Alba was dressed much the same, except she was wearing a dress of the same material.

No sooner had he breathed a sigh of relief as the food was cleared away from the table then Alba stood and declared in a soft voice,

"Come, let us make our way to the chapel." Without a word everyone else seated at the table stood as one, Harper following their example a half-beat later than everyone else. Alba waited for him to stand at her side before proceeding.

The chapel was in the center of the Temple; the place was just as large, airy, and cold as everywhere else, but there was a silence different from the rest of the building. It was not a silence that brought death to mind, or of frozen stunted growth; it was a comforting quiet, and for this reason Harper preferred it to the rest of the Temple.

Still, silence and quiet were not his elements and everything was still strange. His life aboard the Andromeda felt like a dream. Or was this a dream? These people watching him and bowing? Feeling disoriented, Harper sank to his knees while, standing at his side, Alba raised a brilliantly silver staff marked with dark etchings and glittering with clear stones. She began to chant in the native tongue of P'Laraska. Light from the roof windows reflected on the bright gems and cast beams throughout the room. The entire crowd of people was half-singing, half chanting, except for Harper. His heart was beating faster and he could not take his eyes from the bright stream of light.

The singing became faster, the light brighter. More than anything Harper wanted to get out of there, but there were too many people blocking his way. With a surge of despair he held his head in his hands.

Is this where I'm meant to be? Is this my destiny…?

At last the ceremony ended. Filled with unexplainable exhaustion Harper found his way to his room. Welcoming the peaceful lack of people, Harper nevertheless called out for Esperanza. She didn't answer and he entered the main chamber, wondering if she had already gone to sleep. But the bard was not in any of his rooms; beginning to feel worried he walked to the balcony where he had found her earlier. There was no sign of her. Unsure of what to do next he leaned on the railing, staring out into the dark night.

Then he heard something; it sounded like a person. But where was it coming from? Harper started to call out and then stopped. Could it be an assassin? Lady Alba had assured him that the people of P'Laraska were all very devout and would accept him as their God's Avatar regardless of his being a foreigner. Yet Esperanza had warned him that he should be afraid of the High Priestess and Harper's own experience of people in power told him to be on his guard.

The sounds continued and Harper stepped away from the railing, fists clenching; if only he had some sort of weapon! Whoever was making the noise was climbing up the wall; suddenly a dark form leaned up over the railing. It reached out a black hand; Harper steeled himself, ready to yell for help –and then the form fell. Struggling with a long dark cloak the person stood up.

"Harper is that you? Harper? I think I'm stuck!" A voice issued from the cloth.

"Trance! Is that you! What are you doing here? How did you find me? Are you alone?" He kept babbling questions as he helped Trance get untangled from the cloak. When she was free she smiled up at him.

"Are you okay Harper?" The relief at seeing one of his friends again was overwhelming; he threw his arms around her and hugged her tightly.

"Aw man am I glad to see you Trance! This place is awful! You gotta get me out of here!" Trance laughed at his enthusiasm.

"Trust me, we're working on it." Her face grew serious. "But getting you out of here is a lot harder than we'd thought it would be. Harper, why did you go with Tazione and the Empress? I warned you not to."

"They threatened to hurt you and Dylan and Beka, I didn't know what else to do." Harper released her and stepped away.

"You could have trusted us." She pointed out.

"Well excuse me for caring about my friends!" He replied angrily. Seeing his hurt expression Trance didn't answer.

"We've tried everything we can think of so far Harper, but everyone here keeps threatening to imprison us, or worse, if we try to take you back."

"What do you expect me to do? No one tells me anything. I'm supposed to be equal to Alba but no listens to me and instead do whatever she tells them to. I asked if I could leave…"

"And?"

"They said no." His voice was flat.

"We're running out of ideas Harper. Our best one so far has been sneaking me up here; and climbing that wall wasn't easy!" Her words were not bringing the comfort her presence had promised. Frustrated, Harper paced the small area of the balcony.

"There's nothing, nothing at all you can tell us to help us find a way to rescue you?" Trance continued. Harper shook his head hopelessly.

"All I know is that the Empress used Tazione to make me the Hands of the God. I don't know why exactly; I think it had something to do with giving herself more power. Now all she has to deal with is Alba." Trance looked thoughtful at his explanation of all that had happened to him, minus a few details, since they had been separated.

"I don't know Harper." Was all she could think of to say. Harper sighed, his heart heavy.

"Maybe you should tell Dylan to leave. Go back to the Andromeda."

"We're not going to abandon you Harper!" Trance protested indignantly.

"I didn't say you were! I'm not gonna sit here for the rest of my life, being used for other people's gains! But if there's nothing else you can do, you guys should regroup." Anxiously he ran a hand through his hair. "Think up a plan with Rommie and Rev…and Tyr. I don't know; it just doesn't seem like there's anything else to be gained by you guys staying here."

Trance said nothing. She stared at the floor and tried not to cry.

"You'll come back. I can stay here a little while longer without going crazy if I know you'll come back." He tried to smile.

"You're already crazy Harper," Trance murmured. This time it was she who flung her arms around him. He returned the embrace.

"Just promise me you'll come back."

"Beka's not going to like this," Trance muttered, face pressed against his shoulder.

"Trance…" She looked up at him solemnly.

"Harper, I promise."

A/N: Sorry it took so long to write this. Hopefully next one won't take so long. Thanks for reading! –Luna Sealeaf

Next Chapter: Death