Hello, all!

Sorry for the delay getting this chapter up - the beginning of the new year brought new goals and focuses. One of them was the approach of the first anniversary of my husband's death (today is "the day"). I found it increasingly hard to put my attention on fan fiction, but now that we've gotten to this point, I feel freer, somehow.

I still will probably only get a chapter or two up a week for a while. I've got several online writing courses I'm finishing this year, and I just accepted a part-time reporting job. I also have three mainstream novels I want to finish drafting, and both an anthology and a poetry collection I plan to pull together...

And I'm still the now-single mom of two teens...

The thought of Tavin set a slight quiver in his fingertips – and a most surprising reaction in his stavrit. That had never occurred, even with Koss. Perhaps it meant something –

But this was not the time to explore that possibility. Tavin wasn't here, and Kov wanted to go to him with the freedom to give his attention to the project of making the property he had purchased a proper home for Tavin and his sehlats – and possibly also for himself, as Tavin had said it was to be his home as well, if that was his choice.

He gave himself fully to the work, suppressing the unusual sensations. His fingers were particularly sensitized, and despite their slight trembling, they were adept and allowed him to work steadily. The thirty-two files had swelled to forty-seven before dawn came, and sixty-one at zenith. From dawn onward, there were students, and Kov found that most edifying, as he could study the way they moved across this space, and the patterns of the traffic. Natural resting places were suggested, both along the main, secondary, and tertiary routes, but also in other areas, where visitors could go to meditate, or to allow the view to provide aesthetic pleasure, rest, or perhaps inspiration fortheir work or meditation.

None of the students seemed troubled by the stranger wandering among them or standing where they must move around him. All were purposeful, focused on their own activities.

That was something he would change, if he was able to do so. He would build in areas where greater numbers could congregate – perhaps for musical performances, to listen to speakers, or simply for communal exercise.

The sixty-one files were ninety by the time he had spent an entire day's passage. Kov became aware of his hunger, and a desire to cleanse himself. He accessed the nightly record of T'Khut's rising; he had three point two six eight hours. He went first to the office, where he copied all the files to his interface, where they would be automatically categorized and ordered for his use. While there, he used the simple replication device and consumed a simple meal of plomik broth and pok tar. He sipped tea as he accessed the files for his other projects, putting these on his portable device as well, so he could devise a schedule in the moments he didn't have observations on these grounds.

There was a small comfort chamber attached to the office; he could procure a bag from Sivet's home, and have what he needed to periodically cleanse the sandy grit from his body, and clothing to wear when he was inside the office for any length of time. Perhaps Koss might perceive such an addition to the space as something of preparation to return to his chamber within the cleft cliff, and perhaps it would have been, if there had been no withdrawal.

But there had been, and with it had come a wounding. Had Koss also experienced it? Had he known it would be the result of his refusal to accept their Awakening? If so, he had been far better prepared than Kov. Were it not for Tavin, KOv would have remained hollowed and emptied of what had seemed so close when their fingers and souls were dancing.

Whether Koss knew, or did not, he had withdrawn. He had been dishonest, where Tavin hadn't. Therefore, Kov wouldn't or his hidden chamber or dancing fingers that withdrew precisely when the music demanded the greatest level of sharing. Koss might think of the travel bag what he would; Kov would make no clarification on any personal matter to the architect.

Decided, he returned to Sivet's home, using the side entrance closest to his own rooms. With relief, he noted that Sivet was not in the common areas. He had apparently followed his typical custom of spending the evenings in Shi'kahr proper, or perhaps at the Academy, attending lectures or viewing art, both pastimes that often occupied him, and which he would prefer Kov to take a greater interest in.

Kov had never told his father that it was precisely Sivet's desire that he attend that prevented his developing that interest. It was difficult to be in his father's presence; there were always expectations that Sivet didn't express but which remained, unspoken and unmet. Kov couldn't meet them by his nature, and he didn't comprehend what they were well enough to attempt to shift his inclinations toward a more acceptable course in Sivet's perception.

Once, as a child, he had asked, in frustration he was not yet adept enough to suppress, "What is it that you want from me, Father? What is it that would make me acceptable to you, rather than an unwanted obligation?"

Sivet had turned from him in that moment, and, thereafter, he had seldom willingly been in Kov's company.

He had learned the lesson well. He was not to speak to the lacks in their relationship, or his own inability to lessen them. He was simply to accept that this was the way of their connection, and wish nothing other than what Sivet offered, if he offered anything more than shelter and access to learning.

But Kov hadn't been able to abide by those requirements, and also be in Sivet's presence any moment he was not specifically required to be so. It had been that way since before his Kahs-wan trial, and he had no expectation that it would ever be otherwise.

He was uncertain he would ever want it to.

He went to his chamber, and selected enough clothing to afford him three complete changes, as well as the essential items he would need to ensure he was presentable when he needed to meet with others –

Or when Koss was in the office.

Yes, illogical as it seemed, it was a matter he considered. Likewise, and far more logically, what he would wear when he went to speak with T'Sia. She had selected several robes for him, beginning when they were completing their primary education. She gave them as gifts, because, she said, he had little patience for such things, and no mother to see that he had clothing that suited him in more than comfort. Kov was uncertain he understood what more there was to the selection, but her choices were comfortable, and it seemed to bring her pleasure to do this small service for him, and so he allowed it and accepted each item she offered, incorporating them into his wardrobe.

She was especially fond of the sand-colored robes that fit more closely than the others. He would wear those for her, and, when the conversation had ended between them, he would ask her whether she wished him to return the items she had given, as she would no longer be his Intended – or, if she would wish to gift them to a consort.

If she did not, perhaps Koss would find the sand-colored garments as appealing as T'Sia did.

It was illogical to wish it so, but Tavin had said that Awakening had a logic of its own, one that wasn't tied to the traditional intellectual forms, but to something "both deeper and truer." Still, that didn't explain why the thought of Tavin brought a mental image of him seeing Kov in those robes, reaching out to touch them, unfasten them –

The tremor passed through his entire body, and remained in fingertips and stavrit, as though it intended to deliver a single, irrefutable message.