Family
Thane rolled to his side, propping his head up on his fist, watching the bathroom door until she came back out again. She met his gaze and grinned, her hips swaying, enticing him as she made her way to the bed. Crawling on hands and knees, she reached him, pressing her lips to his. He slid his hand through the silken strands of her hair, holding her there to feel her mouth linger on his. She nudged his shoulder, urging him to his back, before stretching her body out against his side and settling into the crook of his arm. Her fingers traced invisible patterns over his chest, and she sighed.
He smiled, his heart beating out a contented rhythm beneath her touch. There remained so many things they needed to discuss, but neither seemed interested in breaking the tranquil silence for the time being. Stroking her bare shoulder and back, he soaked in the velvet smoothness of her skin against his scales, no less thrilling after a night filled with love making and sleeping with her in his arms. Morning came way too fast, and far sooner than he'd like, he'd have to leave her bed and return to the rehabilitation center.
Perhaps I can convince her to join me. It won't be exciting for her, but the time will pass so much more swiftly if she's there with me, and I won't have to be away from her. I wonder if I can convince her to read to me while I use the nebulizer, or perhaps even sing. She has such a lovely voice.
Jasmine groaned and buried her face against his side, pulling him from his thoughts.
"What's wrong, siha?" He ran his fingers over her hair, turning his head to get a better look at her.
"I'm hungry," she said, her words muffled against his ribs, "but I don't want to move and there's nothing to eat here."
He chuckled, gently easing her back until he could roll over to his side. One arm still beneath her head, he draped the other over her hip. "I have some time before I'm scheduled to see my doctor, we can go have breakfast together, or if you prefer, I can make us something back at the rehabilitation center."
"Mmmm. How are things with the treatments and everything?" The flicker of worry in her eyes warmed his heart.
Lifting his hand to trace the curve of her jaw, he smiled. "I'm well, Jasmine. I've made significant progress so far." He ran his thumb over her lips when she smiled. "I'll need to have tests run periodically and may need further treatments in the future, but my condition is completely manageable. I'll be able to leave Kahje in another month or two."
She pulled the corner of her lip between her teeth and quirked her eyebrows. "How do you feel about having company for a few weeks, then?"
His heart skipped a beat before quickening its pace. He'd been so sure they only had a few days together at most before she'd be gone again; feared asking how long she intended to stay in case she told him far less time.
Letting go of her lip, she turned her head a little until and kissed his thumb. "My new handler gave me a month's leave. I spent a couple of days on Earth with Geoffrey and his family before looking for you. I needed to make sure it wasn't a trick and no one followed me … but I figured I'd spend the rest of it here, if you're—"
He leaned in and kissed her, cutting off her words. "Nothing would make me happier." Overjoyed with the idea of having so much time with her after so much time apart—and so soon after they confessed their feelings for one another—he grinned, pulling her closer and kissed her again.
Jasmine took a sip of the still too hot cinuela and hummed appreciatively. "Yours is better, but this is still pretty damn good."
He smiled, lifting his own cup to blow across the surface. "I'm glad you approve."
"So Kolyat's been coming to see you?" She sat the cup down and picked up her fork—or whatever drell called the double-pronged, skewering eating utensil—her growling stomach insisting it no longer be ignored. "That's huge progress. How's it working out?"
"Indeed. It was a surprise the first day he came with his uncle to the hospital. He quickly became … upset with me, but we were both able to say a few things we needed to and shared in each other's emotions. A moment of catharsis, just as much for me as for him." He took a swallow from his cup before setting it back down on the table and picking at his food. "Since that day, things have slowly gotten easier. I've seen him every few days to share a meal or talk about what he's learning in school. In fact … my apologies, I should've mentioned it sooner, but I've agreed to have dinner at Rone's house tonight. I—I didn't know you'd be here …." He seemed so torn with his mouth hanging open and his brow furrowing deeper, it looked almost comical.
"You don't ever need to apologize for making plans with your family, Thane, and the last thing I'd want is for you to miss a second with your son because of me." She smirked lifting a piece of fruit to her mouth—something tropical and native to Kahje. "Besides, you know where to find me if you want to see me afterwards."
He surprised her by reaching across the table, holding his hand out to her. She didn't expect him to be so keen on the idea of public displays of affection, particularly on Kahje. Even his suggesting they go out to eat breakfast shocked her. She didn't question him, though, if he felt comfortable with it, then so did she. She slipped her hand into his and he closed his fingers around hers, giving them a gentle squeeze.
"I most certainly do." He smiled, a glint of lustful promise sparking in his eyes before softening into something else. "Thank you, siha, for being so understanding."
She snorted and took a sip from her cup. "Anyone who doesn't get you wanting to spend time with your son, isn't worth having in your life." Setting her cup down, she leaned a little further over the table, lowering her voice even though being tucked back in the corner of the little restaurant gave them relative privacy. "Neither is anyone who doesn't understand—all things considered—why they shouldn't expect introductions to be made." She tightened her grip on his hand when he dropped his gaze, urging him to look at her again. "Hey, it's okay. Really."
"Thank you." He squeezed her fingers, brushing his thumb over the back of her hand. "I'm not entirely certain I deserve you."
She smirked and shrugged. "Well, I mean, I am pretty amazing."
He chuckled, letting go of her hand to return to his breakfast. "That you are. I do want you to meet, Kolyat, though. I just think he needs more time."
What?
She froze, fork halfway to her mouth. "Oh."
Wow.
"That is, of course, if you'd like to meet him." He stilled, his face void of emotion—intentionally so, no doubt. "My apologies, I didn't mean to assume anything."
"Oh, no, I do!" Jasmine slapped her palm to her chest, unsurprised to feel the rapid flutter of her heart. "I'd love to meet him, I just didn't expect for it to be something you'd ever be comfortable with after everything …."
"I trust you, Jasmine, and I love you." He seemed to relax a little, the hard edges of his face softening once more. "I never would've told you about him, let alone spoken his name to you if I didn't feel certain no matter where you and I stand, you'd never seek to harm him to get to me."
"Of course not, and I know you'd never go after the people I care about either, but I still—I'd love to meet him sometime, when you think he's ready." She cleared her throat and took a drink of her cinuela. She needed some time to process. She didn't swear to understand how healthy, normal relationships were supposed to work—and hell, there wasn't much normal about either of their lives—but meeting her lover's kid, seemed like a pretty big deal.
Frowning, his gaze searched her face. "I've made you uncomfortable."
"No," she said, taking a deep breath and letting out a soft laugh at her own expense, "I don't exactly have a lot of experience with serious relationships. Leon …" She swallowed, shoving back the little ache in her chest. "Leon's the closest I ever got, and he sucked. He wasn't good to me or for me. Hell, I didn't even know he had a family until I spied on him on Illium, years after we broke up. So this," she said, removing her hand from her chest to wave between the two of them, "and everything that goes with there being an 'us', is all pretty much new territory for me. And I guess, I just don't always know how I'm supposed to feel or react to things, but I love you and trust you, too."
He smiled, a soft, almost sad twitch of his lips. "I think we both have a lot to learn about relationships." Putting down his fork, he propped his elbows on the table and clasped his hands in front of his face. "Irikah understood these things. She tried to share her wisdom with me, but so much of it I failed to hear." His voice took on the heavy, sorrow laden tones she'd heard before when he spoke of his wife. Shaking his head, he looked down at his hands. "I wasn't good to her. I didn't know how to be and it scared me, confused me … insulted me. So I stopped trying without ever really meaning to." He met her gaze again and took a deep breath. "I want to be good to you, siha, and I intend to do my best for you, but I can't even begin to say I know what it entails. So, if ever there is something you need from me; if ever I'm not giving enough—or perhaps I'm giving too much—I promise I will listen, but you have to be willing to tell me."
She huffed but smiled, turning the fork over and over in her fingers. "So, no pressure on either of us or anything."
"Indeed."
Thane straightened his jacket and pushed the buzzer for Rone's house. He'd taken care to cleanse himself of Jasmine's scents before leaving the rehabilitation center. If he wasn't prepared to introduce her to them, then it'd definitely be unwise to show up for dinner smelling of her. Still, she lingered with him, her voice whispering in his mind and phantom fingers trailing over his scales.
After sitting with him for his treatment, she'd returned with him to his room, and although they'd only intended to have tea together, somehow much more happened. He learned Jasmine was prone to biting and digging her fingernails into his shoulders while trying not to cry out with her ecstasy, and he still felt her marks on his flesh every time he moved. She'd probably torn a few scales loose, but he felt certain some of the other residents heard them regardless. Clearing his throat, when he heard the door opening, he eased her from his mind and fixed an image of Kolyat firmly in her place.
Rone's wife, Kelena, answered the door, offering him a soft smile before stepping aside and gesturing for him to enter. "Thane, welcome. It is good to see you again."
"As it is to see you, Kelena." He stepped over the threshold, waiting for her to lead the way into her home. "I hope you've been well."
"I have, thank you." She dipped her head, leading him down the hall to where he could hear several others talking in hushed voices. "I have been told the treatments you are receiving have been most effective; this pleases me to know."
The hall opened up into a sitting room, traditionally furnished in muted colors with low, squat chairs arranged around a table just as close to the floor. Everyone stood when he entered, and Thane stopped. He didn't expect Aleha and Drali to be joining them let alone know what to make of their presence; particularly Aleha who, last he heard, disfavored his reunion with Kolyat. The pinched look on her face told him she still didn't approve, and seeing it felt like salt on fresh wounds. He doubted it'd disturb him so much if it not for how much she looked like her sister; the same rounded face with pale, multi-hued ocular scales and nearly identical markings, and—Arashu's grace, Aleha was with child. He blinked, averting his gaze from the telling swell of his sister-in-law's abdomen.
Kolyat caught his eye and smiled. "Hello, Father. Please, join us."
"Of course," Thane said, moving to Kolyat's side to rest a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Hello, my son, you look well." Taking a seat next to him as everyone sat back down, Thane smiled when Kolyat took it upon himself to pour him a cup of tea. "Thank you," he said, accepting the cup and taking a sip of the warm, fruity elocol. Letting his gaze settle on Irikah's siblings, he sat the cup down and smiled. "Drali, Aleha, it's good to see you both."
Rone was the oldest, and by far the most centered of Irikah's family. He looked like her in some ways, particularly when he smiled, but the comparison paled when next to Aleha. A little more than a year younger than Irikah, Aleha looked enough like her sister anyone without a drell or a salarian's perfect memory might easily confuse the two of them. Until Aleha spoke, at least. Their personalities were nothing alike. Where Irikah had been passionate and strong-willed, Aleha remained stern, a traditionalist through and through, but utterly lacking in anything close to passion. The woman allowed herself to be ruled by the ideals of order and her role within drell and hanar society. In many ways, he saw some of himself in the younger woman.
Drali, on the other hand, was something else entirely. Utterly free-spirited, the youngest child left Kahje at the first opportunity. He spent years traveling throughout the galaxy in his youth, only settling back on Kahje permanently after Irikah's death to help care for Kolyat. Another life course altered by Thane's mistakes. The opportunity to meet Drali only presented itself on three occasions, when his visits home happened to coincide with the other drell's, but they'd gotten along well enough.
Taller than all of his siblings and also lithe, Drali possessed a narrow build while Rone, Irikah, and Aleha all carried a broader frame with a more defined musculature and curves. The older three primarily had tones of green with subtle areas of teal or blue, especially along their markings, but Drali's scales were the color of sand in most places. Thane knew—from Irikah's descriptions of her brother—red rimmed Drali's black markings, but the color difference remained indistinguishable to his eyes.
He never met her parents—Irikah's mother passed away from Kepral's Syndrome, and her father worked the mines on an asteroid in the Relic system—but she once told him Drali took after their mother while she and the others looked like their father. Even after his time back on Kahje, it seemed clear Drali clung to the bits of other cultures he'd picked up in his travels. The clothing he wore looked to be of asari influence, and he sat with a posture Thane most commonly saw in human males.
He smiled at Thane, tilting his head back in acknowledgement as opposed to lowering his chin—as Thane saw many humans and turians do—and lifted his hand in a half wave. "It's been a long time. I wasn't sure I believed Rone when he said you came back to Kahje." Drali nodded, his gaze sweeping over Thane. "You look good. The Kepral's withered Mother so fast, it's good to see it hasn't done the same to you."
Aleha hissed, turning her gaze on her younger brother. "Drali, we need not speak of such distressing things, especially while Kolyat is present." She turned her attention back to Thane and dipped her head, folding her hands in her lap. "You do look well," she said, her voice and expression lacking any indication her statement meant anything more than she'd made a simple observation.
Thane cleared his throat and picked his cup back up from the table, more for something to occupy himself with than for want of a drink. "Thank you. Both of you. Indeed, I have been lucky."
"I do not find the topic distressing," Kolyat said, squaring his shoulders. "I heard the nurse tell Father it is likely his strict adherence to an exercise routine and his time away from Kahje has kept the disease from progressing at a faster rate." Pausing, he turned his attention to Drali despite the exasperated sigh Aleha gave him. "Perhaps it is not luck, but the differences in lifestyle between Father and Grandmother that is to be credited."
Rone chuckled, earning him a glare filled with ire from Aleha. He picked up his cup and took a sip before setting it back down, adjusting it on the cloth until it sat just so. "Kolyat, please do not antagonize your aunt."
Kolyat lifted his chin, a spark of defiance shining bright in his eyes. "My apologies, I do not intend to antagonize her, Uncle, but I am not an infant. There is no need for Uncle Drali to avoid speaking of these things simply because I am here."
Drali laughed, the sound like wooden wind chimes, immediately easing the tension in the room. "Oh, but he is Irikah's child."
Thane smiled despite the dull ache being there, with Irikah's spirit hanging over them all, brought for him. "Indeed he is."
Kolyat grinned, seeming quite pleased with the implied comparison, and it filled Thane with warmth and pride.
"Very well, Kolyat. You are right, you are no longer a small child in need of coddling." Aleha offered him a soft smile. "Perhaps the conversation is merely distressing to me, my apologies. I worry, far more, now that I am expecting my own child."
"Congratulations," Thane offered once she brought the subject up on her own. "May Arashu watch over you both."
Her smile faltered when she glanced at him, but she dipped her head. "Thank you, and may she watch over you as well."
Rone held his hand out to his wife, an unspoken question pulling his brow ridge up. She smiled, slipping her hand into his and nodded.
"There is something Kelena and I would like to announce. We wished to wait until we could tell everyone in person, it is why we have invited all of you here tonight." He glanced at his wife again, but she only dipped her head. Turning his attention back to the group, his gaze finally settled on Kolyat. "Kelena is also with child."
Thane muttered his congratulations, undoubtedly lost in the din as all the others began talking at once. Even Aleha let her excitement show, standing and moving around the table to pull Kelena into an embrace before kissing her brother on the cheek. If he'd felt out of place a moment before, the intensity certainly increased with the announcement. He hoped, for Kolyat's sake, the news didn't change anything for Rone and Kelena in regards to the security of his son's position within their household. Surely Rone would allow Thane to help pay for Kolyat's expenses with a child of his own on the way? It was the least he could do if the man agreed to continue to look after Kolyat.
What if they decide taking care of Kolyat is too much, even with financial assistance? I doubt Aleha and her husband are willing to take him in, they've not been a large part of Kolyat's life so far, from what Rone's implied, not to mention she's carrying a child of her own. Drali … well, he does seem to have settled into his years, perhaps …. He'd want to know why I don't take Kolyat myself, and I'd have to tell him the truth. Still, he'd be a better choice than I.
His heart slammed against his ribs, the thought of there being any chance he might have to take guardianship over Kolyat scared him more than he imagined. Even if he took everything he'd saved, retired, and found a place to settle down to raise his son on his own while working a normal job, Kolyat would never be safe in his care. There'd always be the chance someone might come looking for Thane again, seeking revenge for a life he took under contract.
What's changed since Irikah's death? I still don't know how to be a father. Kolyat's older now, though, nearly fourteen. His needs won't be the same as when we last shared a home. He's becoming a man now, what influence would I be for him. And what of Jasmine?
He hated himself for even considering her a factor in such a decision, but he refused to ignore the happiness she brought him or how acutely he'd feel the loss if she weren't a part of his life. If forced to choose, he'd choose his son; always. He didn't believe for a second Jasmine would ever ask such a thing of him, but Kolyat might.
What life could they have—would Kolyat have—under such circumstances? She'd made it clear she didn't have any intention of a career change, and despite his past attempts to change her mind, she remained unswayed. He told her once before he didn't want to change her anymore, either, and he didn't. Their ability to accept one another for who they were and what they did meant everything to him; it brought them closer. Which also meant he could hardly expect her to settle down in one spot to be with him and his son. Even then, if she continued on as an assassin, her work—given time—just as easily made Kolyat a target to her enemies. Not to mention, he might not entirely understand relationships, but he felt entirely certain asking her for such a commitment would be far too much too soon. Anything less, though, might hurt Kolyat—confuse him as to why his father involved himself with someone who never stayed with them, even after the heartache Thane's absence caused Irikah. After the heartache his absence caused Kolyat.
In the commotion, Drali squatted down in front of him. The sudden intrusion ripped Thane from his overwhelming thoughts and very nearly provoked a reflexive palm strike to the other drell's nose. Concern showed in the tight line of Drali's mouth. The light caught in the myriad of greens and browns of the man's eyes, reflecting Thane's own terror back at him.
"Are you alright?" Drali's gentle voice barely reached Thane's ears.
Thane blinked and opened his mouth to speak, not really knowing what he meant to say, but Drali saved him from trying to find some excuse to cover his obvious discomfort.
Nodding, as if answering his own question, Drali plastered a wide grin on his face and stood, turning to the others; effectively blocking Thane from sight. "This is cause for celebration! Thane and I are going to the market for dessert. Any special requests?"
"What do you think?" Drali held up a bottle of wine, showing Thane the label.
Thane chuckled and shook his head. "I think we're having dinner with two pregnant women and a child."
Drali shrugged. "Sure, but doesn't it just leaves more for us and Rone?"
"I'm not much for alcohol," Thane said, waving his hand, "and it's been forbidden while I'm on triheptate."
His brother-in-law sighed, tilting his head back to gaze at the ceiling. "Very well, for Rone and I, then."
Thane smiled when Drali turned a hopeful look his way. "I don't recall Rone being one to drink often either … but it is a celebration."
Drali grinned, paying for the wine before putting the bottle in the basket he carried draped over his forearm. He started walking again, moving on to the next stall, and glanced over his shoulder at Thane. "So … what happened back there at the house?" It seemed he'd lost all taste for the drell-adopted version of hanar etiquette during his travels, as well.
Thane let out a soft huff and scraped his thumbnail over his brow. "I'm afraid I allowed the moment to overwhelm me. My apologies, but thank you for giving me the opportunity to collect myself."
"I'm glad I could help." Drali stopped to browse fresh pastries, thankfully not pushing the issue. "It's good you reached out, Thane. I know Rone seemed apprehensive at first, but I think it's been a positive experience for him, too, not just Kolyat."
"This pleases me to hear." Thane stopped, spotting a few boxes of asari chocolates like those he bought for Jasmine on Illium; apparently they were popular enough to be imported on Kahje. Perhaps he'd drop by the markets again on his way to see her.
"You want chocolates?" Drali asked, returning to Thane's side. He picked up one of the boxes and turned it over in his hand.
A smile tugged at Thane's lips. "No, seeing them just reminded me of … someone I met on the Citadel."
Drali arched his brow ridges, a sly smile spreading across his face. "Someone special?"
Thane chuckled, ignoring the heat spreading over his frills and pushing away memories of his time with Jasmine before they swept him away. He brushed aside the question and pointed to a bin filled with a variety of candied nuts and berries—apparently a favorite of Aleha's. Drali asked the merchant to fill a box and paid for them, slipping the container into the basket before moving on.
"You didn't answer my question." He glanced at Thane, apparently unwilling to also let the new subject go. "Was it someone special?"
Thane took a deep breath and held it for a moment. Keeping his gaze straight ahead of them, he let the air seep from his lungs. "Perhaps."
"Good."
Thane glanced at him, his brow ridges lifted in surprise.
Drali laughed and put his hand on Thane's shoulder, pulling him to a stop. "Irikah would've wanted you to move on with your life. Why shouldn't I be pleased to know you have? It's been more than four years, Brother, nearly five." He started walking again. "We may not have had the chance to spend much time around one another, but I think I know you well enough to safely guess you didn't tumble into bed with the first man or woman you came across." Glancing at Thane, he smirked. "Now I, on the other hand, might've."
Thane chuckled and shook his head. "No, I most certainly didn't rush into anyone's bed. Quite the opposite, I admit. Only recently have I been able to allow myself to get close to another again." They walked in silence for a few steps before he spoke again, "I will never completely move on from Irikah, though. She's the mother of my child, and the first woman I ever loved."
Drali hummed, switching the basket to his other arm. "But not the last?"
"No," Thane said, giving him a slow shake of his head, "not the last."
"Love is good for the soul, Thane." Drali put his hand between Thane's shoulder blades for a moment, using the contact to emphasize his gentle words.
"Indeed." Thane glanced to the side, studying the other drell. "And you, Brother? Have you found love?"
Drali laughed and met Thane's gaze. "I have loved many, and will love many more, but like The Unwed, I can't imagine ever binding myself to any one person."
Thane hummed, watching the easy way Drali smiled and interacted with the crowd around him, the obvious charisma he possessed, as he made more purchases. Thane realized, in a moment of sudden clarity, why exactly he felt so comfortable around the younger drell—Drali reminded him of Jasmine. He smiled, thinking it truly a sign of Arashu's grace he'd met Jasmine first, otherwise, he thought his siha might be quite taken with his brother-in-law instead.
Once they started moving again, Thane said, "I admit, I'm relieved you are so accepting of the idea of my being with someone else. It's a topic I've dreaded addressing. I feared Irikah's family—Kolyat especially—might not take the news well."
Drali shrugged. "It might be difficult for Kolyat, but your son is strong. He's been through far more than most his age, and he has a lot of his mother in him. Rone … I think he'll be able to accept it if you choose to tell him."
"And Aleha?"
Drali scoffed, and waved a hand dismissively. "Do you really care what Aleha thinks?"
Thane took a moment to consider before nodding. "I do."
"You shouldn't." Drali stopped walking and turned to Thane, looking down at him with raised brow ridges. "Caring what that one thinks will age you twenty years in a day."
"Indeed." Thane laughed, but his mirth didn't last long. "I'd almost forgotten how much she looks like Irikah. It's painful to see a face so much like hers carrying the marks of so much disdain directed toward me."
"Father, I have something for you." Kolyat held something wrapped in cloth, handling it with all the care of spun glass. He looked up, meeting Thane's gaze and hesitated, glancing back at the object in his hands before holding it out to his father.
"What's this?" Thane accepted the gift, being just as careful as he began peeling back the layers of cloth.
"It was Mother's." The sudden grief in Kolyat's voice crushed Thane.
He stopped, looking back up at his son only to find Kolyat's eyes rimmed with tears. His heart ached with a pain he didn't think would ever really go away, no matter how many years he lived or how much time he got to spend with his son. Swallowing, he looked back down at the object in his hands and finished unwrapping the solid weight. He found a statuette of Arashu, her abdomen distended with pregnancy, even as she carried a child on her hip, a sword in her other hand. Carved from dark stone filled with veins of eezo, he recognized the statuette immediately—he'd given it to Irikah shortly after they became engaged. Tears welled up in his eyes, memories pushing their way forward, threatening to spill from his mouth.
Kolyat's fingers wrapped around Thane's wrist, pulling him back from the brink of losing himself to the moment. "I would like it if you take it with you when you leave again."
Thane turned the statuette over in his hands, tracing the fine lines of eezo with his fingers before swallowing again. All the talk of babies must've brought the decorative piece to the forefront of Kolyat's mind. He sat it down on the table next to him and met Kolyat's gaze. His throat raw with the need to wail his grief, he opened his arms to his son. "Thank you, Kolyat." He wrapped his arms around the boy, crushing Kolyat to his chest and kissed his son's head. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather keep it here with you?"
"I want you to have it, Father, and I think Mother would, too." Kolyat pulled back and swiped a hand beneath his eyes. "Besides, I still have other things that belonged to both of you as well. I can show you, if you wish to see."
"I'd like to, yes." Thane stood and followed as the boy led him down a hall and to a closed door.
"This is my bedroom." Kolyat opened the door and turned on the light. Stepping inside, he made his way to a low table tucked into the corner of the room and looked back at his father.
Thane lingered just inside the door for a moment, taking in the sights of all the personal effects of what he realized a boy's room should look like. Something he remembered having himself before entering the Compact, but never again since. He and Irikah—mostly Irikah—began to build such a place for Kolyat before Thane disappeared from their lives. It pleased him as much as it pained him to see his son managed to have this special place of his own in Rone and Kelena's home; something he knew he'd never be able to give Kolyat himself.
Toys stood on shelves, a computer sat on a desk next to a design tablet, and holo-images of people, Thane didn't recognize, hung on the walls—some of them dressed in costume and others holding musical instruments. The entire room smelled so strongly of Kolyat, an ever-present reminder of what Thane failed to protect; what the child lost because of him. He pulled in a deep breath and moved to Kolyat's side—almost missing the pain in his chest from his illness, it once soothed the ache in his soul, a justified punishment for his sins.
Even when he tried to settle into a normal life with Irikah, he owned very few things outside of the tools of his profession and basic necessities. He saw most of those items now, situated on the table next to far many more objects once belonging to Irikah. There sat a photo-frame, shifting between pictures of Rakhana scenery, Irikah convinced him to buy one evening while they browsed the markets and she saw it caught his attention. Hanging over the edge of the frame, Kolyat placed a diaphanous scarf his mother use to keep draped over a lamp next to her side of the bed, the light filtering through the scarf giving the room a soft blue glow.
Next to the frame sat the conch shell Thane carried back with him from the beach one day after spending the afternoon reading up on a target while Irikah and Kolyat chased one another back and forth along the shore, laughing and squealing whenever the water washed up over their feet. He saw the prayer book Irikah gave him on their second anniversary, after Kolyat tore the pages from the one he had before. The edges appeared frayed, as if it'd been read many, many times. He wondered if Kolyat sought answers for his mother's death and his father's abandonment in the words held within the sacred tome. He hoped the book brought his son some solace.
Kolyat ran his fingers over the cover of the book and glanced up at Thane. "I understand if you wish to take your things with you, they do belong to you."
"No," Thane said, resting his hand on Kolyat's shoulder, "they are yours now. You should keep them and take care of them. I'm glad you chose to share this with me, though. It pleases me to know you have mementos of happier times in our life, especially these things of your mother's." He ran his hand over Kolyat's budding crest when the boy looked up at him. "She … she loved you dearly, Kolyat. As do I, and I'm sorry I haven't been able to show you my love through my actions, but I hope you know I feel it with every breath."
Kolyat glanced back at the open bedroom door before making his way over to close it, leaving them cut off from the sounds of his aunts and uncles in the living room. "Father …" He turned to put his back to the door. "Did you … forgive me for being so forward … did you love Mother?"
The words choked him, ripping the air from Thane's lungs and leaving his head swimming. He swayed on his feet before he fought back the tide of emotion and steadied himself once more. Kolyat watched, the blue of his eyes completely hidden in the shadows, concealed by his ocular scales. It gave Thane no hint of what other thoughts or emotions the child might be struggling with or what exactly prompted that particular question. Thane took a step closer to the bed and sat down on the edge. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together.
He dropped his gaze to the floor, reminding himself to take slow, deep breaths. "I did, yes. I love her still, and always will. Although, I realize I wasn't a good husband to her, or a good father to you. I—I didn't know how to be." He glanced up at his son when he felt Kolyat sit down next to him. "I didn't spend much of my childhood with my parents, didn't really get to see what a family is supposed to look like or how to handle the inevitable difficulties that come with family life. I let my own inadequacies keep me from being the man I ought to have been."
"Mother never talked about your family." Kolyat looked at his hands for a moment before meeting his father's gaze again. "I do not understand why you did not live with your parents."
Thane wasn't entirely certain how much he should tell Kolyat, but he didn't feel he could outright lie to his son, especially not after they'd both worked so hard to reestablish trust over the last few months. "I—you've learned of the Compact, yes?"
Kolyat nodded. "I have."
"Your grandparents—my mother and father—were raised in families holding to the Compact. At six, your grandparents gave me into the service of the Compact." Thane quickly sifted through the memories springing to life and pushed them aside. "I spent the rest of my childhood learning a trade as a means of serving the hanar. I never saw my parents again; hanar and the drell of the Compact finished raising me." Silence stretched between them, and when Thane looked at Kolyat, he saw fear in his son's eyes.
Finally, the boy asked, "Will I be given to the hanar?"
"No, you needn't worry, Kolyat." Thane gave Kolyat a resolute shake of his head. "As much as serving the Compact is meant to be an honor—and indeed I believe it to be an honor—your mother never wanted it for you." He smiled when the boy's shoulders relaxed. "You will stay with family until you are old enough to decide what you wish to do with your life, and then you will be surrounded by people who love and support you as you learn how to become the man you wish to be."
Kolyat lifted his chin and smiled. "I already know what I want to do with my life, Father."
"You do?" Thane arched his brow ridge, his own smile spreading across his face.
"I want to do medical research like Mother," Kolyat said with a nod, and then something sparked in his eyes. "Maybe I will find a cure for Kepral's Syndrome."
"Perhaps you will." Thane took a deep breath and turned his body toward Kolyat, taking the boy's hands between his own. "And, perhaps, one day, you will fall in love and start a family of your own, but because of all the love your aunts and uncles have shown you, you will be a better man than your father." As he spoke the words, he knew they were filled with truth, but it felt like ripping his heart out of his own chest and throwing it to the ground to be stomped on. "This is one of many things I wish for you to learn while living with Rone and Kelena. Rone is a good man, you will do well to learn from him."
Be like your uncle, Kolyat. Please, be like your uncle.
A knock drew both of their attention, and just as they turned to look, the door opened.
Rone filled the doorway, his gaze moving between Kolyat and Thane. "Ah, there you are. We are about to have dessert, if you care to join us."
Kolyat grinned, pulling his hands free from Thane's grasp and stood. He seemed to have already forgotten the weighted conversation as he rushed for the door. Rone stepped out of his way, brushing a hand over his shoulder as he went. Thane chuckled and pushed himself up from the bed, smoothing down his jacket. He glanced back down at the collection of tangible memories arranged neatly on the table next to the bed. Rone's soft footsteps approached, and Thane glanced at his brother-in-law.
"He spends time looking at these everyday," Rone said, nodding at the table. "More so since we first came to see you in the hospital. Having you here has been difficult, but I also think it has been good for him. However, I fear … even though he knows you will be leaving when you have finished your treatments, a part of him is not prepared to accept your absence again."
"I fear you are right, but I hope with my continued presence in his life—through vid calls and occasional visits—perhaps we'll find a comfortable … routine." Thane cleared his throat and tucked his hands behind his back. "You will have a child of your own soon."
"Indeed, though I confess I am concerned." Rone bent down to pick up a discarded shirt from Kolyat's floor and tossed it in the hamper less than half a meter away, avoiding Thane's gaze as he talked. "We have not spoken about it to many, but this is not the first time Kelena has become pregnant. We have suffered through two miscarriages over the years, but the doctors assure us everything looks perfect this time."
"My condolences. I can't imagine how heartbreaking it must've been for you both." The news made Thane feel even more terrible for leaving Kolyat and just expecting Irikah's family to take him in. How painful it must've been for Rone and Kelena to care for another's child when they'd been hoping to care for their own. "For what it's worth, I'm greatly pleased to hear her pregnancy is going so well this time. The two of you have been wonderful parents to Kolyat, but I know it can't compare to having your own. You will be a fantastic father."
Rone nodded, finally meeting Thane's gaze. "Thank you, Brother. I look forward to the full house. I believe Kolyat will take wonderfully to having a baby around, he has been excited for Aleha to give birth. He says he cannot wait to be a cousin."
Relief washed over Thane, leaving him feeling light and hopeful. He smiled, dipping his head. "He will be a great cousin."
"Indeed." Rone chuckled. "He asked if the baby can share a room with him when it's born. I suspect his enthusiasm will wane once the baby is actually here." He paused, his eyes moving with the familiar motions of a drell being tugged at by memories. After a moment he cleared his throat and said, "I recall being excited about Irikah, but when she arrived, and I realized how loud infants are and how much attention they require … how tired our mother constantly seemed for months afterwards …." He chuckled again and shook his head. "I asked my father if we might send Irikah back to Arashu."
Thane laughed and touched Rone's elbow. "And yet, you ended up being an excellent brother to her."
"Ah, I see she never told you the horror stories of our youth." Rone gripped Thane's shoulder and gave it a little shake. "Come, the others await us."
"A moment longer, if you will." Thane hesitated, unsure of how to broach the subject. "I—With a child of your own on the way, I thought I might remind you of my offer to provide financial support for Kolyat's care; it still stands. I'm more than capable of paying for whatever he needs."
The smile faded from Rone's face and he tucked his hands behind his back. "I appreciate the offer, Brother, but I must continue to decline at this time."
"I see." Thane dropped his gaze, looking at the floor between the two of them. "I don't—if you change your mind, the offer is always there."
"I suppose I should explain." Rone paused until Thane glanced up again. "I have always tried to be understanding about your profession, and truly, this is not a judgement on you as a person, but the credits you earn …."
"Ah. Of course." Thane rubbed his brow and shook his head, feeling completely foolish. He earned money by taking lives, and worse, it wasn't even sanctioned through the Compact anymore. In the eyes of all governments, Thane became a criminal the moment he started freelancing; the credits he earned illegal blood money. "I failed to consider how the particular way I earn a living might make it more difficult for you to accept … if there is any other way I can help …."
Rone nodded, patting Thane on the shoulder again. "I will let you know, and I promise if there is ever a time where it becomes truly necessary, I will not refuse your offer of credits."
"Thank you, Brother," Thane said, though it brought him little relief.
