FLARN MANAGES

by Luthienn

Author's notes:

For disclaimer, rating, etc. see the Prologue. The idea of Rastenn (from the Season 5 Babylon 5-episode "Learning Curve") being Neroon's nephew was borrowed from Soledad's story "Still Not in Kansas" – I hope she doesn't mind. The Nafak'cha follows the ceremony seen in "The Parliament of Dreams".

CHAPTER 1: ACTS OF SACRIFICE

PART 4

Less than a week after the decision of the Grey Council, Alyt Neroon and his escort arrived in the ancient city of Tuzanor. He came with a small group of close friends, as his biological family had been dead for cycles. His only blood-relative still alive was Rastenn, his young nephew, the son of his beloved sister Irilenn, who had died aboard the Black Star.

Despite his tender age, Rastenn had been invited to the betrothal ceremony, as to date he was Neroon's heir. He was accompanied by his father, Katell, a highly respected member of the Worker Caste and the head of the guild of the City Builders. The others were fellow warriors from the Star Riders clan, males and female alike.

In the entrance of the Temple of Malkhut, Sal'sataia Zhalenn was waiting for them, wearing the formal clothing of her office, and on her side stood Satai Rathenn, since the death of Lenonn unofficially responsible for the Anla'shok, in the robes of a High Priest – which he had been, ever since Branmer had given up that position. They both bowed to Neroon and his escort deeply, and the warriors returned the formal greeting, albeit a little more stiffly.

"In the name of the Order of Valeria, I welcome you in the Temple of Malkhut," Sal'sataia Zhalenn said formally. "All is prepared for the ceremony – please enter the Temple and join the other guest in the ceremonial chamber. Satai Rathenn has offered to celebrate the Nafak'cha personally, wih the assistance of Satai Delenn – we are all honoured by the offer." But her eyes were cold as ice, and Neroon knew that she would never forgive either him or the Grey Council for the sacrifice forced upon the Order.

Then she stepped aside without a further word, allowing them entrance into the Temple of Knowledge.

The ceremonial chamber, usually the place for meditation for the novices in their first cycle in the service of Valeria, had been prepared beautifully for this most important ceremony, the key for the peace of Minbar. White garlands of Fara, the holy flower of Valeria, adorned the walls, scented Cha'ardmin, white ceremonial candles manufactured by the Sisters themselves, burned in groups, the numbers of which had a secret meaning known to the anointed ones only, and on the low, altar-like table of white marble there stood a silver pitcher with holy water and a small casket with the red nefak berries, the most important requisites for the ceremony.

The witnesses were waiting already, standing in a loose circle. Due to the importance of this betrothal, there were more celebrities than Neroon had seen on one place in his entire life. He recognized Satai Hedronn and Morann from the Warrior Caste and Satai Khadiri, the only one of the Nine that had been born Warrior Caste but followed the Religious calling of her heart. There were Sech Durhan and Sech Turval, Neroon's drill masters of old, and there was Kadroni, clan leader of the Faithful Hearts, known for her prophetic dreams. In the background young novices of the Temple stood, playing on their ritual lutes, bells and drums.

"Where is her family?" Neroon asked, still not quite willing to speak the name of his soon-to-be wife.

'They have not come," Branmer answered in regret. "Out of protest against the Council's decision that had cost Lúthienn the calling of her heart, they disowned their daughter. She has no other home than the Order."

Neroon shook his head in disgust. "Religious zealots. How could they do this to their own child?"

"She would have been as dead for them after her inauguration anyway," Branmer answered with a sigh. "The Sisters usually stand above the bonds of blood."

"But if she has no family here, who will stand with her?" Neroon frowned. "The Nafak'cha won't be valid without the blessings of her father."

"Master Draal will act in place of Lúthienn's father," Branmer said. "He agreed to adopt her. The documents have already been signed and registered in Yedor."

Neroon nodded. That made sense, especially knowing the high respect Master Draal enjoyed within the Religious Caste.

"So, where are they then?" he asked, impatient to get over with the whole thing.

"In the adjoining room, I assume," Branmer answered with a shrug. "It is custom that the father would give his child some last-minute advice. Especially in a situation like this."

In the waiting room, adjoining the ceremonial chamber, Master Draal watched his young charge in sympathy. He was glad that Sal'sataia Zhalenn insisted on keeping the girl in the Temple until her legal maturity. Lúthienn was much too young an innocent to be handed over to a harsh, cold-hearted warrior like Neroon right now.

"I shall be beside you the entire time, as I am acting in place for your family," he said, laying a reassuring hand upon the girl's fragile shoulder. "You need not to worry; you have gone through Nafak'cha twice already. Once when you began your service as an acolyte and once when you have been accepted as an apprentice. This will not be very different from those times."

Lúthienn smiled a little at the assurance, grateful for the support even though her lips trembled. "I don't want to embarrass Sal'sataia Zhalenn by making a mistake… or showing any weakness," she answered worriedly. "I know that I must be strong when facing… him."

"No one will think that you are weak," Draal promised. "All the witnesses know this was unexpected for you – and hurried. You are familiar with the ceremony, so there will be no mistakes, I am certain of that. But even if there were any, no judgement would be passed. There all know of the great sacrifice they are asking from you, and they respect you greatly for your obedience. You will bring honour to your clan, your Caste and your Order."

"I shall try everything in my humble powers to do so," Lúthienn answered, casting her eyes down. Draal patter her small, cold hand.

"That is all anyone can ask, daughter mine. Are you ready now to face your fiancé?"

Lúthien nodded, slowly, determinedly. "Yes, father, I am ready."

"Then let us go, daughter," Draal took her hand and led her through the hidden door to the ceremonial chamber.

Satai Rathenn was standing before the altar already, with Sal'sataia Zhalenn on his left and Satai Delenn on his right. All three wore the Obran'ver, the white outer robe required on ceremonies like this over their clothing, their faces shrouded by the wide hoods, but Lúthienn recognized them nevertheless. How could he not? She had known Rathenn and Zhalenn all her life, and she had been told earlier that Delenn would be the third to celebrate the bonding ceremony.

Facing them stood two warriors, wearing black uniforms and the full regalia of their rank and Caste. One of them she recognized as Shai Alyt Branmer, from the time when he had still been the High Priest, way back before the war had forced him to become a warrior. The other one had to be Neroon, then; for the moment Lúthienn refused to look at him directly. Behind the two warriors a third person stood, in the civilian robes of the Warrior Caste – the telepath, assigned to verify that both parties were accepting the bonding on their own free will.

Neroon eyed the young woman, chosen by the Council to be his bondmate, warily. She seemed young, much too young, barely more than a child, and delicate, even for one of the Religious Caste. Her bonecrest ridges were fragile like frozen water, and the cerulean patches on her small head had the rare pattern of the Chosen One – a pattern that only appeared once in a thousand cycles. Her lips, pale red like the petals of that flower humans called a rose, trembled slightly, but her wide eyes, the most incredibly blue ones anyone had ever seen on Minbar, were now looking determinedly at the harsh-faced warrior whom she would marry for the good of Minbar and for the sake of her Caste.

For a moment Neroon didn't know if he should pity her or admire her. There she was, half his size, half his age, and yet ready to face him and deal with him, no matter what. He only wished that she wouldn't be so young. It seemed somehow… not right.

The chiming of the bells interrupted his thoughts, and he could smell the incense added to the candles, as Satai Rathenn raised his voice slightly, beginning the ceremony.

"We have gathered hear today to witness a joining the like of which has not happened since the days of Valen. It was our tradition, long ago, that after the war between two clans or castes was over, each side would give one of its own to the other in marriage. The victorious side gave a female of its clan to the one that lost, that suffered the most deaths, as a symbol of life and hope. Following this ancient custom, the Religious Caste is now about to give away Lúthienn of the Faithful Hearts to become the mate of Neroon of the Star Riders, Alyt of the Warrior Caste. The joining petition has been officially registered and sanctified by the arbitrators in Yedor; it is now valid. And thus I ask you, Alyt Neroon of the Star Riders, do you accept the offer of the Religious Caste?"

Lúthienn glanced up into the cold, dark eyes of the warrior again, not willing to be intimidated by him. Neroon gave her a strange little smile that she could not understand and, to her surprise, answered in Adronato.

"I accept. I shall honour her and treat her with all the dignity and respect my mate is entitled to. I shall protect her and keep her safe from all enemies. I shall do all I can to support her in her sacred task. I do not desire this bonding, but I will enter it of my own free will, for the good of Minbar."

Rathenn cast a questioning look at Tela'al Aalann, and the Warrior Caste master telepath gave a slight nod to confirm the honesty of Neroon's words. So did Kadroni and Sal'sataia Zhalenn. Usually, one telepath was enough to watch over a bonding, but in this particular case it was of utmost importance that the sincerity of both parties got confirmed.

"Lúthienn of the Faithful Hearts, apprentice of the Order of Valeria, do you accept your destiny to become the bondmate of Alyt Neroon and the key of peace between the two Castes?" Rathenn continued, turning to Lúthienn.

"I accept," she replied with obvious sorrow but also with a dignity that, coming from such a young girl, surprised everyone. "I do not desire this bonding either, but I accept it as my duty. I will honour him as my bondmate as duty demands. I will do all I can to bring honour to his House and his Caste. I will follow your orders because of duty, as long as they serve to keep peace upright between our Castes." She turned to look Neroon in the eyes and was now addressing him directly. "But I shall consider this promise no longer valid as soon as you do anything that endangers this peace. Do so, and you will set me free from all promises and duties that bound me to you. This is my only condition."

Neroon inclined his head, clearly impressed. "I accept."

Rathenn looked at Te'aal Aalann again, and the telepath nodded. Kadroni and Zhalenn, too, confirmed the sincerity of the promises given.

"Then let the Nafak'cha begin," Rathenn announced.

Neroon reached out with a black-gloved hand and took Lúthienn's small, pale one, and wished that wearing his glove was not required. They both bowed to the priests, who bowed back. Then Zhalenn stepped forth with the silver pitcher, offering it to Rathenn wordlessly. The High Priest looked at the unlikely couple before him and asked them the traditional question, quoting Valen's words, as it was required during Nafak'cha.

"Will you follow me into fire, into storm, into darkness, into death?"

"Yes," they answered, Neroon grimly and loudly, Lúthienn quietly but determinedly. Rathenn dipped two fingers into the pitcher to wet them.

"Then do this in testimony to the one who will follow, will bring death couched into promise of new life, and renewal disguised as defeat." He reached out and touched each of them on the brow, fingers wet with holy water.

The novices in the background began to play an ancient hymn on their lutes. Zhalenn stepped back and switched places with Delenn, who offered the couple the casket with the nefak berries, her compassionate look never leaving Lúthienn's deathly pale face.

"From birth, through death and renewal, you must put aside old things, old fears, old lives," Rathenn declared. "This is your death, the death of flesh, the death of pain – the death of yesterday. Taste of it. And be not afraid – for I am with you to the end of time."

Lúthienn and Neroon reached into the casket, taking a nefak berry and turning to each other, offering it to each other.

"Taste of it," Rathenn repeated. The drums in the background rolled.

Lúthienn swallowed the fruit the warrior held to her lips, almost choking on it. Her fingers dipped into Neroon's mouth along with the accepted fruit. She jerked her hand back as if it had been burnt and cast her eyes down again, wishing to die from embarrassment.

Rathenn bowed. "And so it begins."

Now all that remained to be done was accepting the blessing of the fathers and the ritual kissing. Lúthienn endured the touch of Neroon's lips on her with the last of her strength, then she stepped back, safely out of reach.

"I shall see you again in the fullness of time," she said in an even voice that lacked all emotions.

"I shall be here," the warrior replied with a bow.

Lúthienn accepted the blessing of Master Draal and retreated into the Temple. The guests mingled for a while, exchanging polite phrases that meant nothing, then they left shortly thereafter. Only the Religious members of the Grey Council stayed behind.

"And so it begins," Satai Khadiri repeated. Zhalenn nodded thoughtfully.

"I wonder, though, how it ends," she answered softly.

TBC