"Welcome back," greeted Hanni softly from across the main hall.
Tivan nodded, but hesitated.
"What?" she asked, coming down the steps and walking towards him. She saw a small package in his hands and smiled. "Another piece for the collection?"
"More or less," he said, holding the box firmly and eying the broken frame still lying on the plush chair. Hanni followed his gaze and went to retrieve the photo but he stopped her with a shout. She stopped, tossing him a hurt look, but he clutched the box to his chest protectively and walked over to pick up the picture from the chair and hold it tightly, turning away from her. He breathed deeply, Hanni watching the fur cloak on his back rising and falling with his movements. Tivan was the first one to break the silence.
"I'm just... very partial to this photo," he explained, his back still to her.
"May I ask why?" she asked in a hushed tone.
Tivan shook his head, biting his lip. I never forgot, he thought. It just became harder to remember.
"Okay," she conceded, clutching her hands and moving to leave him alone.
"Wait," he commanded. "Hanni."
She turned back to him and he did the same, the pair facing each other across the room for a moment before he lowered the photograph from his chest. She approached him cautiously in case he changed his mind, but he merely stood there quietly with his head down. When Hanni reached him, he handed her the fresh box and broke the old frame into pieces, letting them fall to the ground as he removed the item from within. He waved his hand for the new one and Hanni hastily took it out of the box, holding it out carefully. Tivan put his precious picture inside the new frame and held it out with gentle hands and a morose glance on his face. Unsure, she stood away respectfully, but he put it back on the beaten desk and she saw that it was just a simple photograph...
It was him; her master. Hanni tilted her head and glanced at it, her heart sinking when she also saw a beautiful woman with olive skin and flowing black hair not unlike her own, her arm around an equally pretty young blonde girl whose smile resembled Tivan's...
"Oh, master," she sighed, "You're married?" Her stomach turned in knots and she felt unimaginable guilt. Married, and with a daughter, no less...
"No, I'm not," he said, his breath coming out in a small gasp. "Three billion years and I still can't let them go."
Three what years? Hanni wondered, but decided to relent when she saw her master put his gloved hand to his temples and turn away again. She felt completely out of place seeing him like this, unsure as to whether or not a comforting hand would be welcome at this point. She heard him sniff and clear his throat, turning back to her with a forced smile that didn't reach his eyes the way a genuine one would. Hanni glanced at him with pity.
"My apologies," he said with a polite nod, trying to brush past her, but she grasped his elbow and he turned around with a scandalized frown.
Oh don't even start, she thought, suddenly irritated instead of afraid. Tivan must have sensed her mood because he suddenly softened, though remained at a slight distance.
"Are you married?" she asked.
"No," he replied.
"You still wear your ring," she said. She had always just assumed it had been for fashion, but realized she should have brought it up long ago. I guess I was just afraid to ask.
"I'm aware of that," he snapped. "Just because they're dead doesn't mean it didn't happen."
"You don't have to get hostile," she said softly. He bristled, but she held her hands up in supplication and hung her head. "I'm sorry," she said, truly meaning it. "I wasn't trying to be insensitive. I was only curious."
"You have a right to be, I suppose," he relented with a sigh, looking into her eyes again. "I... My wife, Matani... she died a very long time ago. When our daughter left home. Lost her will to live, apparently." He huffed, suddenly angry and tense again, his voice coming out as a hoarse growl. "As if I was not enough. As if I was not worth living for!" He curled his lip in fury and clenched his fists. "And when our daughter died, it was as if everything else died with her. Everything."
Hanni merely watched him silently and sadly. He caught a glimpse of her face and suddenly laughed a little. Not the true laugh that Hanni loved, the excited bark or condescending chuckle, but a harsh, helpless laugh that bordered on a sob.
"Look at me," he sighed, throwing his hands up in misery. "They've been gone for longer than I knew them and still I feel their loss." He slumped into the plush armchair that was his favorite and hung his head in his hands. Hanni bit her lip, hesitating at first, but placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder and leaned down so that she could look up into his face. His eyes were bloodshot and glistening, but he watched her warily.
"I know that nothing I say can make anything better," she admitted. "But I want you to know that I don't think you're crazy. Or pathetic. You loved them. I love my own family. But even though I know I'll never see them again... it's ok, because the ones we love always live somehow, inside of us. Even when they're gone, they're still with you, and you can choose to mourn that or to embrace it." Tivan lifted his face to stare at her. "You loved them. You still love them, even after billions of years – that may make you a desperate sort of romantic, but to me, that's one of the most beautiful things about you." She ran a hand against his cheek softly and smiled. "Always remember your past, but never forget your future, either."
With that, Hanni stood, kissed him on the cheek and prepared to leave, but his voice rooted her to the spot.
"You're a liar," he said in a low tone. Hanni turned back to him, hurt, but he gripped her hand and kissed it, clarifying, "You did make it better."
She smiled and embraced him as he kissed her, clutching her against him desperately and breathing into her neck.
"I got quite a deal on you," he chuckled softly.