Author's Notes: This chapter was a pain. I couldn't get it to push any further so it is what it is. Sorry it's not much, but I can tell you that the next is much longer and full of forward movement. And bonus! - It's nearly complete already. As always, Constructive Criticism is always welcomed. Enjoy!
Fiat Justitia Ruat Coelum
Chapter Three: Similarities
As Mako leaned forward to peek into the pot she was supposed to be stirring she felt the comforting weight press more fully across her back as the little body held there slept on. She brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face, cheeks flushed with warmth from the fire beneath the pot and shifted the sling fastened over her shoulder carefully, not wanting to disturb her child's slumber.
"He's so quiet."
Mako gave the young woman next to her a small smile. "Thank the heavens for small miracles." She stirred the contents of the pot, the wonderful scent of spices wafting up to engulf her senses. "I don't know what I'd have done if he was as fussy as –" She bit down on her lip, the familiar pangs of loss thrumming through her.
A gentle hand rested briefly on her forearm before Ahim turned back to the vegetables before her, cutting them with precise, even movements.
Mako watched the woman's skill with the tiniest bite of jealousy, trying to distract her mind. "I envy your abilities." She sighed, looking at the wooden spoon in her hand. "I may be stuck on stirring duty for life."
Ahim's quiet giggle tugged at Mako's lips and the tightness in her shoulders from unhappy memories eased.
"I once thought the same," the younger woman admitted. "You should have seen my first fledgling attempts at cooking. I think they feared I would burn our home down around our ears."
Mako looked at the other girl in surprise. "You didn't learn here?" She regretted asking her question as Ahim's smile dimmed.
"No, my family taught me." Her voice was soft but laced with an aching nostalgia Mako all too readily recognized.
"I'm sorry for prying."
Ahim shook her head. "While I wish the remembrance was less painful, I prefer to speak of them – to keep them present."
Mako gave the girl a side-long glance before returning to her stirring. She pitched her voice low so as not be heard above the soothing noises and chatter of the kitchen. "Your family, are they –?"
"They are very much alive," Ahim answered back just as quietly, biting her lip briefly as a thought raced across her mind and she sighed. "For now."
Mako felt a stab of understanding. "They hold your family's life over your head." It wasn't a question but Ahim answered anyways.
"Yes." She brushed aside the carrots she had finished with and grabbed something green and leafy that Mako didn't have a name for. "Our situations are more alike than you can imagine, Ms. Mako." A brief smile tugged at her lips. "And just as different." She sensed the unspoken question and continued.
"The king and queen desire the cooperation of our families on our behalf for very different reasons. They seek cooperation, yes, but with yours they wish to make an alliance."
"And with yours?"
Ahim was quiet for a moment, the sound of her knife crunching through the vegetable the only sound as she seemed to choose her words carefully. "My family is, perhaps, more trouble than they are worth to the king." She slid the leafy green thing into a bowl with the carrots. "It would please him greatly to rid the world of their existence."
Mako started, her hand stilling as she looked over at the younger woman with a raised eyebrow. "And yet you believe they will come for you, regardless of this threat?"
"We're family," Ahim caught Mako's gaze, her expression open and innocent. "Would you not do the same?"
Mako blinked at her, surprised by the simple question, knowing her answer without thought. "I would," she whispered firmly, adjusting the sleeping child strapped across her back before turning back to the bubbling contents before her. She missed the quiet, satisfied smile on her companion's face before she too turned back to the task at hand.
Mako slumped against the table, exhausted.
She was still a little clumsy and awkward in her duties, causing a few accidents in her wake as she tried to follow orders in the kitchen. Ahim and her friend, Doc, had tried their best to cover for her or pick up the slack but after leaving the creamy sauce to burn hard and black in its pan when she should have been keeping an eye on it had earned her an evening of dish duty.
It wasn't that Mako was incapable, but she'd rarely worked in the kitchens before. In her birth country it would have been absurd to even consider the idea – the kitchen was a worker's place, not a royal's. And while she and Kotoha had ventured down to peek into the once-forbidden area in their new adopted home, their presence had only been met with good-natured amusement and exasperation at their less-than-spectacular skills.
Genta had promised to show them the basics, but everyone had become more than a little distracted at the arrival of her first child. Life had seemed to rush forward after that.
Mako frowned at the thought. It had rushed too fast – she hadn't spent enough time simply enjoying the moments until it was too late. A small stirring of movement from tiny limbs followed by a quiet sigh of breath from the sling against her back prompted a gentle smile on her face.
Then again, perhaps when chasing after the running little legs of a child eager to explore the world it was almost impossible to sit by and watch. She rested her head in the palm of her hand, soaking in the warmth and quiet as embers dimmed the kitchen into flickering shadows and let her eyes slide closed for a moment.
If she were being honest with herself it was also a little overwhelming to be surrounded by so much noise and movement after her near-solitary confinement of so many months.
Mako started at the touch as an unfamiliar hand shook her awake.
She bolted upright in her seat, searching the semi-darkness wildly for the owner of the hand.
Her eyesight finally landed on a tall, dark figure in the shadowed room. She could barely make out dark eyes set in a stern face framed by long dark hair tied neatly into a tail that fell over one shoulder.
"Who are you?" Mako asked the imposing figure, more startled that she'd fallen asleep and been awoken by the stranger than the stoic expression.
"It's late," a tempered masculine voice answered before moving toward the door. His steps made almost no sound against the stone flooring and she was sharply reminded of the way her husband could steal through the shadows. It was a warrior's grace, she realized, one that allowed them to sneak upon their enemies without a sound.
She wondered if she should be more worried.
Instead, when he turned at the door to see if she was following, she clambered to her feet, her limbs numb from the awkward position she had dozed in.
He waited silently as she worked to get feeling into some of her extremities, showing no signs of impatience as she first checked on her child still dreaming away against her back before hobbling her way after him through the shadows in a less-than-graceful manner.
She glanced at her silent companion as he led her along a familiar route in the darkness, sure of his footsteps and as noiseless in the hall as he had been in the kitchen.
"Are you escorting me to my room?" She finally ventured to ask, her strides becoming more even and sure as circulation made its way through her limbs, shaking off the vestiges of sleep.
"She'll be worried," is all he answered. His voice was little more than a murmur and Mako wondered if the comment had been more to himself than her.
She glanced at her escort with wary eyes, but his steps never faltered as they made their way towards her new room. She kept her questions to herself as they buzzed in her mind, shoulders tensed as she kept an eye on his movements, but he followed along the hallways and stairs with a comfortable assurance.
He paused only when they reached a familiar door, reaching out to knock softly upon its wooden surface.
Her breathing a little faster than normal from the quick pace her companion had set along their route, Mako halted a few feet away, one arm tucking itself protectively around the oblivious child dreaming in his warm sling.
She waited with bated breath as the door opened a crack, and a petite figure peeked through the gap she'd made, the steady glow of a candle lighting her from behind.
Mako heard a soft gasp of surprise mingled with delight before the figure threw the door open wide. The light shifted over the pair of them in the hallway and Ahim, her familiar faded pink ribbon gone from her hair for the night as dark curls bounced around her face stepped back to let them in.
As soon as Mako and her quiet companion were inside, Ahim quickly scanned the darkened hallway before shutting the door as quietly as she'd opened it and looked back to the small group inside the room.
She turned to Mako's escort, unable to stop herself from stepping closer as he stood awkwardly inside her room.
"What are you doing here?" Despite the concern in her eyes, there was no suppressing the smile on her face.
"Just checking in," he murmured, shifting uncomfortably on his feet under her gaze.
Mako watched as the young woman all but glowed. She was struck by the similarities between her sister and brother-in-law at the beginning stages of their romance. How Kotoha's joy and anticipation at Chiaki's arrival would leave a smile on her face brighter than the sun's beams.
A small smile of her own touched upon Mako's lips in understanding and she looked away, tucking her son into his basket for the night, in an attempt to give the two some privacy.
"Is everything alright?" Ahim laid a gentle hand upon his arm and the man flushed, his gaze darting to Mako, but seeing the young mother occupied he relaxed. He met Ahim's worried eyes with a calm assurance.
"They're fine," he murmured quietly. "They're more worried about you."
"I have a new roommate," Ahim answered, smiling in Mako's direction.
"We've noticed." His expression was wry. He glanced over the small, sparse quarters with a frown. He dropped his voice so only she could hear. "You didn't have much space to begin with. Are you sure –"
"Joe," she admonished with a small smile. "I'm fine." Her smile widened as he raised an eyebrow in silent disbelief. "It's nice not to be alone anymore," she answered his unspoken question in a low voice. "I was so used to the sounds of everyone –" She bit her bottom lip in remembrance. A gentle hand on her cheek had her looking up into his concerned eyes.
"They'll come," he promised. "And when they do…"
Her smile was grim. "We'll all be free." She leaned into the warmth of his hand, taking strength from it with a deep inhale of breath, eyes sliding shut as she memorized the feel.
"I should go."
The whisper of his fingertips across her cheek had her eyelids fluttering open as he took a step back towards the door. She drew her hands behind her back, clenching them in the fabric of her dress to keep from reaching out for the warmth he was taking with him.
She nodded, a smile fixed firmly in place. "Thank you for bringing Ms. Mako. Please be careful on your return."
Joe's lips thinned at her cheerful façade but didn't comment other than to give a curt nod before sliding out the door as silently as he'd entered.
Ahim stood in the same position for several long minutes, even after he'd left, straining to hear silent footsteps fading away over the stone flooring.
"How long have the two of you been together?"
Mako's sudden question in the quiet made Ahim start and she flushed.
"Together?" She shook her head in protest, hands up in front of her as if in defense. "No, no, Joe and I are not together in that way."
Mako's brows raised in surprise. "Really?"
Ahim's blush deepened at the skepticism in the other woman's tone. "Truly," she assured her. "We have just known each other for a long time." She looked down at her hands, fingers intertwined in front of her stomach in a nervous gesture. "Why do you ask?"
Mako settled on her narrow bed and gave her roommate a long, considering stare. "You remind me of my little sister, Kotoha, when she first met her husband." Her voice was soft.
Ahim looked up in surprise, sinking down onto her own bed as she listened.
Realizing she had an unintended audience Mako continued. "It's the way you look at each other," she explained. "The breathless anticipation in meeting, the lingering glances in parting." She picked at a loose thread on her blanket. "Young love is as exciting and wonderful as it is daunting and terrifying."
She picked up the basket with her slumbering son and shifted it so that it rested alongside her bed. "You wonder and hope that it will somehow work out, but when you live in a world like ours, you sometimes hesitate to move forward lest something shatter everything you have built together."
"Did something happen to them?"
"Chiaki – her husband – had been hiding certain details about himself from my sister," Mako answered carefully. "It almost tore them apart – in more ways than one."
Ahim's eyes widened. "But they were eventually married, right? Things worked out between them in the end?"
Mako's expression softened. "Yes, they found each other again."
"How are they now?" Ahim ventured with a faint flush. "Are they happy?"
"Very," Mako assured her with a smile. "They still have their arguments – their moments of exasperation, but they are happy, yes. They have a little girl, and had just found out they were expecting another child when –" She bit off her sentence with a frown, pain lancing through her heart.
"You will see your family again, Ms. Mako." Ahim's quiet but firm assurance did little to stop the tears that swam in Mako's eyes.
"Not all of them." She turned to lift her blanket and slip underneath it, her body curling into a tight ball as it shied away from the cold as much as her memories.
Ahim continued to stare at the back of the young woman's head for a long time before she roused herself to blow out the candlelight and slip under her own covers with a disquieting frown, frustrated at feeling there was nothing she could say.