Journey of Love
Chapter Nineteen
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Marcus and Neroon, or anyone else from
Babylon 5.
Authors notes: Rated R. Contains slash: two males in a romantic/sexual (although not explicit) relationship. If this offends you please turn back now.
[……..] Denotes thoughts which is slightly changed from previous chapters.
The morning of the Ascension was overcast and dreary, fitting my depressed mood perfectly. I had spent the last two days convincing myself that I wouldn't miss Neroon once I returned to Babylon 5. Unfortunately the closer to the ceremony I came, the more despondent I would become. By the morning of the Rite I was absolutely miserable, but I was determined not to make a fool of myself in front of the Minbari and show my pain. Instead, I kept my face carefully clear of any inner conflict I may have been feeling. This was after all Neroon's big day, and I would rather die an extremely painful death than ruin if for him because of my moping.
When Shamar came by to drop off the uniform an hour before the ceremony, he seemed particularly happy, and it took all my willpower not to knock him over the head for it. But I suppose he has every right to be excited, it's not everyday that your clan leader becomes a Satai, after all.
After placing the outfit carefully on the bed, Shamar stepped in front of me, interrupting my constant pacing across the room.
"You seem upset." Shamar commented gently. "I thought you would be the most happy for the Alit."
"Of course I'm happy for Neroon, ecstatic even." I growled. "What would give you the impression that I'm not?"
"Perhaps your restlessness, or your quick temper."
"It's fine, I'm just…" I didn't know how to complete that sentence. [Angry, jealous, depressed, lonely, in love.]
"Worried?" Shamar guessed. "There is no need, Marcus. Everything will work as it should. You will see. Now get changed, all of that pacing was making me dizzy."
After Shamar left the infirmary I continued to stare out the window for a few minutes going over what Shamar said, with a slight smile I decided to take his advice and stop worrying at least for today. This was a day of celebration after all. Neroon is my friend at the very least and I should be enjoying this monumental event in his life by his side. I can, and probably will, sulk just as easily back on Babylon 5.
So, with a jaunty step, I made my way over to the bed to look over the outfit Neroon had sent me. Surprisingly the slacks and vest weren't black, like the usual Warrior Caste uniform. Instead the pants were a dark blue, while the vest was a lighter blue and sleeveless. Around my waist, once I got the rest of the clothes on properly, I tied the sash of the Star Riders so that it hung low on my hip. To complete the ensemble I pinned my Anla'shoc broach on my chest, and hung my denn'bok at my waist.
Deciding I looked as good as I was going to, I made my way out of the Infirmary without escort and soon after entered the crowded temple. It seemed that I wasn't expected because as soon as I entered everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at me. Originally I thought the staring was because I was a human Anla'shoc, but I was soon disabused of that notion once I noticed a small gathering of Rangers standing to one side of the room. The only odd thing about that, besides the fact that they were in attendance at all, was that they were all wearing black robes rather than a duplicate of what I had on. Before I could do more than wonder about it however, Neroon entered the room followed by six Minbari elders all wearing dark blue robes, exactly matching the color of what I was wearing. Now assuming there was some kind of significance to the color that I wasn't aware of, I looked questioningly in Neroon's direction, only to be ignored as he took his place in the center of the Minbari warriors.
Chapter Nineteen
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Marcus and Neroon, or anyone else from
Babylon 5.
Authors notes: Rated R. Contains slash: two males in a romantic/sexual (although not explicit) relationship. If this offends you please turn back now.
[……..] Denotes thoughts which is slightly changed from previous chapters.
The morning of the Ascension was overcast and dreary, fitting my depressed mood perfectly. I had spent the last two days convincing myself that I wouldn't miss Neroon once I returned to Babylon 5. Unfortunately the closer to the ceremony I came, the more despondent I would become. By the morning of the Rite I was absolutely miserable, but I was determined not to make a fool of myself in front of the Minbari and show my pain. Instead, I kept my face carefully clear of any inner conflict I may have been feeling. This was after all Neroon's big day, and I would rather die an extremely painful death than ruin if for him because of my moping.
When Shamar came by to drop off the uniform an hour before the ceremony, he seemed particularly happy, and it took all my willpower not to knock him over the head for it. But I suppose he has every right to be excited, it's not everyday that your clan leader becomes a Satai, after all.
After placing the outfit carefully on the bed, Shamar stepped in front of me, interrupting my constant pacing across the room.
"You seem upset." Shamar commented gently. "I thought you would be the most happy for the Alit."
"Of course I'm happy for Neroon, ecstatic even." I growled. "What would give you the impression that I'm not?"
"Perhaps your restlessness, or your quick temper."
"It's fine, I'm just…" I didn't know how to complete that sentence. [Angry, jealous, depressed, lonely, in love.]
"Worried?" Shamar guessed. "There is no need, Marcus. Everything will work as it should. You will see. Now get changed, all of that pacing was making me dizzy."
After Shamar left the infirmary I continued to stare out the window for a few minutes going over what Shamar said, with a slight smile I decided to take his advice and stop worrying at least for today. This was a day of celebration after all. Neroon is my friend at the very least and I should be enjoying this monumental event in his life by his side. I can, and probably will, sulk just as easily back on Babylon 5.
So, with a jaunty step, I made my way over to the bed to look over the outfit Neroon had sent me. Surprisingly the slacks and vest weren't black, like the usual Warrior Caste uniform. Instead the pants were a dark blue, while the vest was a lighter blue and sleeveless. Around my waist, once I got the rest of the clothes on properly, I tied the sash of the Star Riders so that it hung low on my hip. To complete the ensemble I pinned my Anla'shoc broach on my chest, and hung my denn'bok at my waist.
Deciding I looked as good as I was going to, I made my way out of the Infirmary without escort and soon after entered the crowded temple. It seemed that I wasn't expected because as soon as I entered everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at me. Originally I thought the staring was because I was a human Anla'shoc, but I was soon disabused of that notion once I noticed a small gathering of Rangers standing to one side of the room. The only odd thing about that, besides the fact that they were in attendance at all, was that they were all wearing black robes rather than a duplicate of what I had on. Before I could do more than wonder about it however, Neroon entered the room followed by six Minbari elders all wearing dark blue robes, exactly matching the color of what I was wearing. Now assuming there was some kind of significance to the color that I wasn't aware of, I looked questioningly in Neroon's direction, only to be ignored as he took his place in the center of the Minbari warriors.
