Stinger waits.
He waits for something, anything, to ruin this illusion of innocent and truth and hope.
He waits for something to go wrong with Kiza's wings. He waits for the price that he is already realizing is never coming for his returned wings and Kiza's Bug removal. He waits for House Abrasax to come, to ruin this illusion of a gentle Terrestrial girl and reveal the Entitled Queen underneath, for his life to be uprooted and for him to fight for his daughter and himself to simply live. But days pass. Weeks. They blend into months. And in those months both Kiza and himself recover enough strength to fly. Kiza has a harder time of it, barely can hover for a good amount of time, and dares not go higher in fear of falling and damaging herself. He does his normal duties, performs his mundane reports. His daughter cleans up his language, and their lives go on much as they once had, Recurrence of a dead space queen as their neighbor or not.
But the one thing that does change is now, suddenly, the small sphere of people he had of just himself and his daughter has grown.
Jupiter the child Queen and Grey the Keeper become constants.
With Sergi the once Ambassador and Aleska the former Professor hovering at the fringes of their awareness, Jupiter and Grey come to them. Sneak across ever-growing corn stalks to sip at his honeyed teas, to share large containers of homemade foods made by Jupiter mother's hand, to study the intricacy of the Verse and how to smash that into itty, bitty pieces.
To secure the safety of them all, or as safe as they could be as a radical Entitled Queen to be, a wayward Keeper without a herd or soil to till, and two war Splices who wish for peace.
"Does she met your expectations?" Grey's voice is high and smooth, a melody that weaves and dips pleasantly to Stinger's high senses.
Kiza and Jupiter are afloat. Jupiter giggling as Kiza hovers higher than she has ever dared, her hands holding tightly to the child's shoulders as she flew her about the net meant to catch them. Kiza's large wings are beating, glorious in sunlight, strong and true as her confidence catches up to what her body is capable of. The confidence instilled by both time, and the encouragement of a child.
Stinger blinks, eyes sliding to the Keeper.
"What do you mean?"
"Are you more assured that Jupiter will not cause you and your youngling harm?" asked Grey, and they tilt their head slightly.
Stinger feels something then. Not an emotion he is used to. Shame is hard to swallow, and despite my fears being prudent, and fucking logical, not easy to shake. Stinger sighs.
"Despite my better judgment, she has met none of my expectations. I believe in her."
Grey gives a tinkling laugh, soft and so warm that it surprises were not meant to be seen as being so sentient, so alive, as this person was. They, the oldest thing here if you did not count Seraphi's memories within Jupiter.
"Belief is a frightening thing, Stinger Apini. It killed the Great Queen, it slaughtered my Brood and my Elders."
Stinger swallows hurt and memories at the gentle comment.
"It destroyed my family and ripped me away from a boy I called my son. Destroyed my body and that of my child's," he responded in kind, and he wonders as he watches his nearly grown daughter fly in the sunlight how he can dare to be more than a disgraced, mutilated splice left to rot in a backwater world.
"But it has brought me to that child. And it has brought me the surety that things can change, if only we dare attempt it."
Stinger startles as he feels Grey's long hand gently settle around his own hand. Their skin is dry, and a little cooler than what he expected. But when they lace their large fingers through his own, it doesn't matter how clumsily the gesture. How awkward the temperature or the gangliness of Grey's digits. Because it is true and so grounding that Stinger does not have the strength to push down the tears that come to him.
"So it has."
