[Whew. This one's a bit longer than my usual fare. I really, really hope you like it.]
...
The Zwahan elder strode toward the group of teenagers purposefully; Sophia's clear blue eyes tracked his path as she considered how to handle this. She wouldn't have to wait long at all to learn the Hwatab's reaction, apparently.
"Julia. We need to go," she murmured. With her chin she pointed out the elder's approach, and grabbed Julia's elbow. Sophia was not given to overreaction: Julia followed immediately, full of absolute trust in her friend.
The two sliced through the crowd and arrived at Drake's side so suddenly he jumped.
"Dammit Sophia – I almost took you out!" he growled. "You all really need to start taking this more seriously!"
"Don't tell me about taking things seriously – look who's coming," Sophia retorted. Drake looked up and, with the advantage of his height, caught the progress of the Zwahan elder as well.
"Okay, yup. Time to go." Drake stepped forward; the crowd cleaved before his bulk easily. He bent down to Roman's ear and reminded him that he had an "important meeting" in a few minutes. The Iksen did not miss a beat. He smiled charmingly, thanked the older couple who were trying to press a gift of food into his arms, and apologized to everyone for having to leave. He made sure to mention Emery's name before they left, as well, thanking the Atrians for their kindness and generosity to this human who had believed in him when all others believed him lost. He turned to Drake then, allowing the question to hover momentarily in the air between them. Drake jerked his head back toward their pod instead, and took Emery lightly by the elbow.
"It's time we headed back for that important meeting Roman has," Drake said to her by way of explanation. To her credit, Emery was nearly as quick as Roman.
"Wha- Oh, yes, right. I had forgotten," she said with a bright smile. She waved goodbye to the children, called out a hasty "Aldovos" to the adults, and then tried to keep up with Drake's massive strides as he ushered the group back down the boulevard – away from the elder.
"Okay seriously, what's going on?" Emery asked as soon as they had rounded the corner. The six friends kept moving even as they chatted.
"I don't know," Drake said, "Ask her." They all looked at Sophia for clarification.
"Roman… the Zwahan elder was coming our way," Sophia began, licking her lips nervously.
"So? I don't see the problem," Roman answered. "The Hwatab are aware of Emery, Soph." His sister sighed and ran her hands through her hair. Had she just imagined it all? No. Not possible.
"Roman, that crowd, they were… they were calling you… Iksayan." She wrinkled her nose and closed her eyes, waiting for the fallout.
Julia, Emery, and Lukas just frowned, confused.
Roman stopped abruptly and swore under his breath.
Drake stopped too, and laughed in disbelief.
"No way! It's not possible. She's not even Atrian!"
"So?" Roman shot back, suddenly defensive. "Come on, Drake: do you really still believe that matters?" Drake just looked back at Roman as if waiting for antlers to appear on his head.
"For me, of course not, but I'm nothing, I'm nobody. But you're the Iksen. It's just not possible."
"Okay stop," Emery cut in. "I need more information. What is going on? And why does it all matter so much to the Hwatab?"
Sophia put one hand gently on Emery's shoulder.
"Not here," she explained, and took off once again for the tiny pod by the plaza that had become their unofficial headquarters.
Everyone else followed suit, silently. Julia and Emery exchanged a look as they set off; Sophia was usually perfectly happy to let Roman be in the lead, so it was easy to forget she was actually next in line to lead her people. Lukas, for his part, smiled inwardly: Sophia taking charge was pretty damn sexy. He couldn't wait for another chance to be alone with her. He wondered suddenly if she even knew about Taylor and Drake. As far he could tell, it was a very poorly-kept secret… but Sophia had been out of the loop so much recently, she really might not know that Drake crept out to Taylor each evening. He hurt to think of Sophia, heart-broken by the discovery of her secret crush's not-so-secret relationship.
…
Safely back in the pod, Roman and Drake set about preparing the space for the inevitable visit from the Hwatab. They estimated they had at most three minutes to lend an air of gravitas to their chosen battleground.
Emery pulled Sophia to the side and demanded an explanation.
"What is it? What does Iksayan mean?!" she tried to keep the edge of panic out of her voice, and failed. Sophia, finally seeing it all from the human perspective, hugged her friend close in apology.
"I am so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, Em," she declared. "But it's not necessarily something bad… in fact, it might be… good… in the long run. I think. I guess it depends on what hap- "
"They're here!" Lukas announced from his perch by the window. A burst of frenzied activity put the finishing touches on the room, and then Drake stepped forward to greet the Hwatab. He smiled at the Vwasak elder, hoping to get a read on the situation from the Atrian who had helped him with Aria, but a stone wall of silence rebuffed him.
Only after all four of the Hwatab were seated around the table did anyone speak. It was the Iwabas elder, whose voice was so rarely heard that her simple words often carried more weight than the more verbal Vwasak and Zwahan elders.
"Iksen, thank you for your words of kindness toward Vega last night," she began. "She is a daughter of my tribe, but I am pained to say she lost her way years ago. Teri's tragic death has injured her more than she has shared with anyone. I hope ultimately it will be a turning point for her, and your compassion in the circumstances may make all the difference."
"Thank you," Roman responded simply, humbled by her words.
"Yes, well. I think you can imagine, we were all quite impressed by the reports we received of your speech last night. None of us were present, of course, so we did not actually witness it," began the Zwahan elder. With his long grey hair and blue eyes, he struck Emery as looking very much like a wizard.
"But that is not, in fact, the reason for our visit today," the Vwasak elder stepped in.
Finally, maybe someone will get to the explanations now. Emery fidgeted impatiently by the window, where she and Julia had retreated after the Hwatab arrived. They flanked Lukas, who was still perched on the stool that had served as his lookout post. Unconsciously, all three humans leaned forward, eager to understand what had changed with such apparent suddenness.
"Roman, when we spoke to you last week, you made an arrangement with us - one that we can no longer honor." The Vwasak elder looked quite somber as he spoke.
"No, wait - that's not fair! It wasn't just an 'arrangement', it was a promise, based on good faith on my part," Roman shot back immediately. His blood was pounding through him far too loudly; he tried to breath deeply, to calm down. They could not go back on their word. His future was dependent on that vow.
The Zwahan elder smiled and interrupted. He placed both hands on the table, palms up, in a placating move.
"I'm sorry. I think you may have misunderstood my friend," he began. He shot a disgruntled look at the larger Atrian, who settled back in his chair with a grunt. "Originally, you led us to believe that by arranging a marriage with Ray Whitehill's daughter, you would be making a politically savvy choice. We understood that this union would help bring about your father's ultimate dream – full Integration.
"But now we see, Roman – there is a much deeper relationship here than you expressed to us at that time." Roman bit his lip and hung his head, unable to look at Emery. He had been planning to tell her all about this that night, after the dinner. This was not how she should hear her marriage proposal. Color flooded up the back of his neck and across his cheeks in shame.
"It's true. I care for her deeply. More than you can possibly know," Roman began, "But that doesn't change anything. The marriage would still have been a very wise move, politically." Behind him, he heard a furious exhalation of breath and closed his eyes, hating himself more than at any other time in their relationship. What she must think of him… he didn't want to know.
Emery, meanwhile, was glaring daggers at Julia, whose eyes sparked dangerously. Emery knew that look of Julia's. This was not the time to inflame the situation with gender politics. She and Roman would definitely have a very serious, very uncomfortable fight – but later, not here. Not with the Hwatab. Besides, nobody had explained Iksayan to her yet, and that curiosity was burning through the core of her.
"Roman, we agree with you. After Miss Whitehill saved your life, it became obvious to all of us that you two share a special bond. We suspected, but had no evidence, that the bond might be deeper than even you had guessed."
Ohhh. "Iksayan." The way Roman said the word, it sounded like a curse. Emery's blood chilled and time slowed. This was what she had been waiting for, but now that they were discussing it, she felt a hard knot in her stomach, a sense of foreboding.
"Iksayan," the Iwabas elder repeated, but her voice was full of excitement, not sorrow. "If it's true, it's the first time in over 200 years. We will have to look through our oldest records to make sure we understand the confirmation process."
Roman looked up quickly – he was barely able to believe he had read her tone correctly. The older woman's eyes smiled into his warmly, and she nodded at him, answering his unspoken question.
"There's no reason to believe it must be limited to an Atrian partner. But we must ask for your patience, as we review the texts and laws carefully," she warned him.
"If it's true," the Swamad elder finally spoke up, "Emery Whitehill belongs to the Atrian people - just as much as you do." He smiled back at Emery, the first of the elders to actually acknowledge her. Emery smiled back nervously. That last sentence had sounded almost ominous.
"Come here, child," the Vwasak elder intoned. His commanding voice was hard to ignore. She found herself by Roman's side, and put her hand on his shoulder automatically. The Iwabas and Swamad elders smiled at each other in confirmation.
Hope, that most fragile emotion, seeped from the tips of Emery's fingers and into Roman's bones. He felt his skin warming to her touch, his breath quickening at her proximity. Was it possible she did not hate him right now? He had just confessed to using her as a political bargaining chip. He hated himself.
"Do you understand what it means, that the people have suggested you two are Iksayan?" The Vwasak elder peered closely at her, testing her.
"No. I don't," she answered shakily. It was pointless to lie. "But… I think I… I might be getting an idea," she continued slowly.
Roman jerked his face up toward her, wondering what she could possibly mean.
"I've been studying Sondiv. - Just a little bit, when I have a chance, you know," Emery explained. "And the word for 'sun' – it's Ksen, isn't it? As in, Roman is the I-ksen?"
The elders smiled and nodded, but remained silent.
"And the plural of 'sun" – it's Ksayan? …Right. So then, the I-ksayan… would be… more than one Iksen?" She stopped now; having walked herself into a linguistic corner, she was unsure what to do next. She was rescued this time by the Zwahan elder.
"Nicely done, Miss Whitehill. You must have an excellent teacher." Sophia smiled with quiet pride and stood a little straighter. The elder continued.
"Sometimes - very, very rarely, mind you, but sometimes - the relationship between an Iksen and his or her spouse transcends typical bonds of marriage. The two, in essence, become one. They are mutually dependent; they resemble what you humans call a binary star system. In these cases, the Iksen and the spouse are seen and respected by the community as equals of each other. It would appear that our people believe this may be the nature of your relationship with Roman."
Emery felt the air thinning, and tiny bursts of bright color exploded in the backs of her eyes. Nausea crept into the hard knot that had recently taken up so much space in her stomach; Roman leapt out of his chair just in time to catch her as she leaned dangerously sideways. He swung her into his arms and carried her to the pallet that had been shoved hastily into one corner of the room.
"Roman," she begged him, her eyes blinking back open. His name on her lips was too painfully sweet – it boiled the blood in his veins.
"I'll be back for you," he promised her. "Please just rest for a bit."
Emery nodded and closed her eyes briefly. She didn't see Roman whirl around, didn't see his face suffused with a quiet storm of righteous fury at the four elders. She didn't hear him harangue them for their insensitivity to her condition – she had been at death's door less than two days ago! She didn't see the pain on his face after the Hwatab left, the guilt that threatened to consume him. He paced the pod like a caged tiger, ready to lash out at anyone and everyone, until finally their friends agreed it was high time to go for a late lunch.
Their escape left Roman and Emery alone... something that, for the first time in ten years, Roman realized, he did not want.
