Lennier knew where he was before he even opened his eyes. It had been well over two years since he had been here, but it was all so familiar, so well scribed into his mind and memory that his recognition was instantaneous. The perfect firmness of the bed beneath him, the soft breeze and the smell and sound of the River Tuzen flowing in from the open window...this was his bedroom in his childhood home, the temple where he had grown up.
Joy bubbled up within him at the thought of seeing his old friends again, so much so that he launched out of bed and sprinted down the hall, knocking on doors and calling out the names of the people with whom he had spent the vast majority of his life.
"Nethenn! Merann! Rannier!" When there was no response from any of them, he pounded harder. "It's me, Lennier! I'm back!"
But none of them came out to greet him. And suddenly the joy in his heart turned to sadness, and then that sadness began to morph into fear as he realized that something wasn't right. He ran down the corridor, looking for someone, anyone, trying to take in his surroundings and think at the same time. Why was he back? He shouldn't be back. He should be on Babylon 5, shouldn't he? How had he gotten here? And why couldn't he remember?
And suddenly, he stopped so short that his boots squeaked on the slick floor, the sound echoing too loudly off of the vast, empty walls. He did remember. Everything.
"No…" he whispered, feeling his legs begin to shake. "No. Oh, no…"
He stumbled over to the wall and leaned on it for support as his heart pounded in his ears. It couldn't be. Could it? No other explanation for what he was experiencing made any sense. Had he for some reason been sent to Minbar to recover, surely he would have awoken before he was strong enough to run at full speed down the temple hallway. And surely there would be someone around. And it was not a dream, either - it was all too real, every detail too pristine. Everything was exactly as remembered it. Dreams were never that accurate, especially not the fever dreams he had been having, where everything had been twisted and frightening. Those had seemed very real, but only because his delirious mind had not been capable of viewing them any other way.
No, it was the only thing that it could be.
It was not exactly what he had thought death would be like – he had always been told that the souls of the loved ones who had passed beyond the veil before you would be there, waiting for you. Could he perhaps be in some kind of transition zone, made to look like a place where he felt comfortable in order to ease his passage into the afterlife? If so, it wasn't doing a very good job. He felt nothing of the peace he had been taught to expect upon leaving the life he knew. In fact, he felt quite the opposite. A terrible, overwhelming grief blossomed from his heart and spread throughout his body, and he sank to the floor under its weight.
Delenn. He had left her. He had broken his promise to stay at her side, and he couldn't protect her anymore. And he would never see her again.
"No." It was more of a whimper this time. Like before, the noise reverberated throughout the dome-roofed hallway, off of the crystalline pillars and through the air around him, filling the whole temple with the sound of his grief. Lennier pulled his knees up to his chest and just sat there on the floor, trembling. He tried to think of mediations he had been taught in this very building for times of trouble, but they all remained beyond the grasp of his memory. He had never experienced that before – Lennier could always meditate, no matter what was happening around him. But at that moment, all he could think about was Delenn.
He was unsure how much time had gone by – it could have been minutes, hours, or days – when the silence surrounding him was broken by the sound of approaching footsteps. It took a moment for Lennier to look up, so overwhelmed was he with despair and regret. But finally, the footsteps ceased and he could see boots on the floor in front of him. And then, the newcomer spoke. His voice was deep and commanding, yet gentle.
"My young friend...look up at me."
And so, Lennier did. What had he to lose at this point? Slowly, shakily, he raised his eyes.
He did not recognize the Minbari before him. He was considerably older than Lennier, but not elderly like some of his teachers in the temple had been. He wore the plain garb of a member of the Religious Caste, but the upright way in which he carried himself gave him a subtle air of authority. This effect was enhanced by his height - he was the tallest Minbari Lennier had ever seen, standing at least a good six inches above the peak of his own headbone. Even more curious was his face - surrounding his mouth, which smiled warmly, was a small beard. Lennier had only met a handful of Minbari males who could grow hair on their faces - the genetic capability was not found within most of their family lines, and the majority of those who did possess it chose to shave regularly. Conformity was a common theme amongst their people.
Lennier stood, his engrained humility and need for structure taking over, and with trembling hands, made a triangle with his thumbs and bowed.
"I am..." he began to introduce himself, but the other Minbari interrupted him, his warm voice a complete contrast to Lennier's feelings of hopelessness.
"...Lennier, of the Third Fane of Chudomo. I know who you are, my young friend. And I have been waiting for you." He laid a large hand on Lennier's back. "Come with me."
What else was Lennier to do? His choices were to follow, or to stay and be consumed by his own misery and regret. He followed, nearly having to run to keep up with his companion's long-legged stride.
"I apologize for my impertinence, but although you seem to know who I am, I am afraid I do not know you." Lennier hoped that this would be enough prompting for the tall Minbari to identify himself, but the other seemed to have a penchant for being cryptic.
"I am…a friend of a friend," he said simply, and then quickened his stride so that Lennier really did need to run to avoid losing him. Further conversation was impossible.
They wound through the temple's seemingly endless corridors until they found themselves out of doors. They moved through the garden, out of the gate, and down to the riverbank. Lennier's heart ached with nostalgia as he recalled some of the copious wonderful memories he had formed there. He and his friends had spent many a summer's day in this very place. The others would swim in the river while Lennier would lounge under one of the big, shady trees, reading or studying until finally his friends would convince him to join them. He had always resisted at first –it had always been his way to spend every possible moment in the pursuit of learning - but the cool water had always seemed so lovely and inviting that he would eventually give in. Other times, they would spar, practicing what they had learned in their self-defense training and keeping their skills sharp. Lennier had always been eager to do that. They would fight until a winner emerged, the victor would bow to the defeated, and then once the ritual was completed they would laugh and jest and reminisce. Was this punishment of some sort, he wondered, that his sweet recollections of this place were now to be tainted with heartache?
Lennier's tall companion finally stopped a few feet away from the bank, and Lennier came to stand beside him. The clear water flowed like a liquid version of the crystal which made up their cities, just like it always had. If he shut his eyes, he could see his friends splashing around, laughing and calling his name, begging him to join them. As much as the nostalgia hurt, knowing he would never see any of his friends again, he tried to focus his thoughts on it, because it stopped him from thinking of her.
Oh, Delenn.
"It is a beautiful place, is it not?" the tall Minbari asked, looking around him as though taking in the scenery.
"It is," Lennier whispered, unable to stop his voice from breaking as he looked out over the water. His companion turned to face him.
"You are troubled, my young friend. Tell me, did the prophet Valen not teach us to cast aside the burdens of our hearts in the pursuit of peace within ourselves?"
Lennier felt as though he were a young novitiate again, being reprimanded by one of his teachers. He still had no idea who this tall, bearded Minbari was, but he could not help but feel as though he needed to defer to him. He bowed low and then replied, his gaze still cast downward.
"Yes. But I am afraid that the burden of my heart is so great that I haven't the strength to cast it aside."
"Then perhaps I may be of some assistance." Lennier felt rather than saw his companion lay a hand on his upper arm. "But it will be difficult for me to help you if you will not at least look up at me." Lennier slowly raised his gaze as the tall Minbari chuckled. "You know, I once had an aide who would not look up at me. I told her that I could not have an aide who would not look up, and that she would be forever walking into things."
Lennier's eyes widened and his heartbeat quickened with recognition as his companion continued.
"She agreed of course – she was so timid at first, but very eager to please. But it took her awhile to get used to the idea, until one day she really did walk straight into a wall. Head first. I saw the whole thing, but I never told her I did. I never asked about the bruise, either. I'd like to think she was grateful for my tact." His smile turned from jovial to wistful then. "She grew so much, became so much more than that quiet, humble acolyte who came to me straight from the temple all those years ago. I knew she would do great things, but just how much, I could never have dreamed. And she has so much more left to accomplish."
"Satai Dukhat." Lennier very nearly dropped to his knees in reverence, bowing so low that his triangled hands almost touched the ground.
"I knew that bright mind of yours would put it together eventually!" The former leader of the Gray Council sounded pleased. "But I meant what I said, Lennier – please look up at me."
Lennier hesitated. He had already committed a greatly forbidden act by even looking Dukhat in the eyes, let alone speaking to him without first being spoken to.
"It is all right," Dukhat reassured him patiently. "You needn't worry about the rules of reverence and humility – we are far beyond the need for that here. And I was never overly fond of them, anyway. My teachers in temple were always lecturing me on account of my frequent breaches of protocol. I never seemed to learn." He chuckled, and Lennier was finally able to bring himself to look up at him, not wanting to disrespect him by not doing as he asked.
"Good. Now, I sense that barely being held at bay by your quiet deference is an incredible pain. Tell me what is troubling you."
Could he not know? Lennier hardly thought that possible. Or perhaps this was some sort of test? Either way, the truth needed to be spoken.
"I failed her," he whispered. He found that despite Dukhat's urgings, he could not hold his gaze. He was too ashamed – he had let down someone they both cared about. He stared out over the water, his last memory of Delenn washing over him. He had been so weak and feverish that he could hardly stay awake, and her face, shadowy with exhaustion and stained with tears but just as beautiful as ever, had been all that he could see as the world had dimmed around him. She'd held his hand and spoken words of comfort to him, and for a single, wonderful moment, he had been at peace because he had known that no matter what befell him, she was there with him. But then he had awoken here and realized that it had been him who had left her. And it had been the worst thing he had ever felt.
"An interesting answer," said Dukhat from beside him. Curiously, Lennier turned back to him, and Dukhat looked pleased that he had willingly made eye contact with him. "Most people would have responded with 'I am dead', or some similar sentiment. Or are you not troubled by that thought?"
"The simple idea of being dead does not trouble me," said Lennier quietly. "Had I died with honor in the service of the one to whom I have devoted my life, I would have gone gladly and without question. But I fear that in my last days I caused Delenn great pain, and now I can no longer fulfill my oath to be always at her side. That is what troubles me about being dead." The surreal nature of the situation in which he currently found himself occurred to him. Prior to this moment, had someone told him that he would someday have the opportunity to speak with the great Satai Dukhat, his excitement would have been immeasurable. And had the meeting happened under any other circumstances, he would have been analyzing the religious leader's every word, looking for meanings within meanings and questions within questions. But now he felt no desire or interest in that whatsoever, because his pain at being separated from Delenn against his will so thoroughly permeated every thought he could form.
"My, you are every bit as devoted as she was." Dukhat's gaze took on a hue of distance for a moment. "Loyal to a fault, the pair of you. And I do mean a fault, in both cases."
Lennier instinctively bristled, not at the slight to himself, but at the one to Delenn. But he was distracted by the next words that came from Dukhat's mouth.
"Would it help you to know that you are, in fact, not dead?"
"What?" Lennier could barely manage a whisper. Not dead? Then there was a chance, a chance he could get back to Delenn, to be by her side once more. But if he was not dead, then why was he here, talking to someone who very clearly was dead? "I am afraid I do not understand."
"A perfectly reasonable sentiment," conceded Dukhat, his voice never wavering from the deep, kind, gentle tone he had used from the beginning. "Visions can be rather jarring. And I am afraid that just because you are not dead at the moment, it is not guaranteed that you will not be soon. I was only able to reach into your mind and create this vision because it is disconnected from your body, which barely has the strength to keep itself alive. You are quite the master of commitment, my young friend – you do nothing by halves, including being ill."
Lennier felt his hopes being dashed again, just as quickly as they had been built up. "So I am not dead, but I am dying."
"Not necessarily." At Lennier's tortured and confused expression, Dukhat elaborated. "The reason I brought you here now is because, at this moment, you stand at a cross roads. There are three paths your future can take. I am afraid that one of them does end with you dying of your illness. But the other two do not involve this particular outcome. However, both of those will bring you pain, I am afraid – that is inevitable." His eyes softened apologetically. "But one path will result in your betrayal of the one you love the most."
"No." Lennier shook his head emphatically, his humility completely abandoned. "I would never, ever betray Delenn. There is nothing in the universe that could possibly lead me to hurt her purposefully. I…I love her far too much for that." His thoughts flashed back to his conversation with Marcus only a few short weeks previously. He had only recently been able to admit his love for Delenn to himself, and saying it aloud to other people, particularly Delenn's former mentor, was not easy. But it did not change how he felt. He would gladly give all of himself if it meant she was safe and happy.
Dukhat uttered a soft sigh, but his voice was as patient as ever. "Oh, my young friend, don't you see? Love is the very reason you will betray her. Your love for her will tear you apart if you allow it to. You think now that it is a pure and perfect love, but if you look deep inside your heart, I think you will find that there is more to it than you are willing to admit to yourself."
Lennier felt his cheeks flush with anger at the insinuation. But then he recalled the day before he had been hospitalized. He had stood watching Delenn and Marcus speaking in the hallway of Green Sector, and he had been infatuated with how perfectly beautiful Delenn looked. And then there were the times when he had felt not only the need to be by her side, but the desire to be close to her, to feel her comforting presence next to him and know that neither of them were alone for the other's presence. And then Lennier realized that perhaps his pure and perfect love and devotion toward her might have the potential to grow into something more.
"But…she is destined for another," Lennier murmured. "I know it to be true in my heart. The knowledge hurts, I admit that now. But I cannot deny it. It is what is to be…isn't it?"
Dukhat nodded sagely. "Yes. That much is written already – it cannot be undone by any choice you make. Delenn and John Sheridan will together change the future of the galaxy. Their roles and fates are irrevocably intertwined, and their love for each other sealed."
Lennier nodded, unable to ignore the twinge of sadness in the pit of his stomach. "The Captain. I suspected as much, but I was never sure until now."
"She is in good hands with him, never you fear," Dukhat reassured him. "They will have their trials and tribulations, as do all who love. But they will come out all the stronger for them, and their happiness will endure as long as they are together."
"Her happiness is all that matters." Lennier could almost, almost convince himself that those words were true. But Dukhat zeroed in on the tiny piece of him that felt otherwise.
"And what of your happiness, Lennier? Does that not matter to you, not even one little bit?"
Lennier opened his mouth to reaffirm his previous statement, but he hesitated for just the briefest of moments, once again remembering his last conscious seconds and how safe he had felt, despite the direness of the situation, at Delenn's touch and reassurances. His constant focus on protecting her and being at her side to help her through whatever might come her way had precluded him from even imagining her doing the same for him. But it wasn't right – he wasn't worthy of her. She had endured so much and come through it all with such grace, and she had led their people with wisdom for many years. What had he ever done in his life that could hope to compare to that?
And that was when Lennier broke. He did not know why Dukhat insisted upon pulling his emotions in every direction and spinning his heart around and around until he no longer knew which way he wanted to go. But he and Delenn would never be together, and he didn't deserve her anyway – so what was the point of it all?
"If Delenn and Captain Sheridan are destined to be together, then who am I to stand in the way? He has power and influence and strength far beyond what I have. He can protect her better than I ever could. And he is a good man. They deserve each other. I…I would only be in the way. A burden, interfering with the happy life she deserves." His voice trembled and he blinked back tears, even though he held Dukhat's gaze. It was the truth – it had been there all along, waiting for him to open his eyes and see it. But oh, oh did it hurt.
And what hurt even more was the obvious next course of action, which struck him so hard and fast that he nearly lost his composure entirely.
"Perhaps…" he whispered, his throat dry and painful, his heart pounding as he admitted the truth to himself as well as to Dukhat. "Perhaps it would be for the best if…if my illness did claim my life, after all."
He could hardly believe he had said it, having been so desperate to return to Delenn just moments before. But now that he heard it in his own voice, the hard reality of it settled like a yoke upon his shoulders.
Sadness flickered in Dukhat's eyes. It was the first time Lennier had seen any negative emotion from him, and it made him feel all the worse.
"I do believe she would disagree vehemently with that statement," he said softly. And then, without further comment, the great religious leader raised his hand and made a sweeping gesture in the direction of the river. The clear water shimmered for a moment, and suddenly a face materialized amongst the softly flowing current, as though Lennier were watching it on a screen. He felt his heartbeat quicken and he stifled a sob when the identity of the face became clear.
Delenn.
The picture panned outward, and he could see that she was in Medlab. She was sitting in a chair next to the bed in which Lennier himself lay. The Lennier who watched could not help but shudder at the state his body was in – skin pale, eyes sunken. He really did have the look of someone who was dying. He found he had no concept of how long he had been in that bed. He turned to look at Dukhat, who was watching the scene unfold right along with him.
"Are we watching these events as they are occurring?" he asked tremulously. Dukhat gave a single nod in response, and Lennier returned his attention to the happenings portrayed in the river, ignoring his own decrepit body and turning his thoughts solely to Delenn.
His heart twisted with agony as he saw how exhausted she looked. The hair of which she had taken such meticulous care since she had acquired it was flat and dull. Her gray eyes, normally so alight with emotion, be it laughter or anger or love, held a pain so deep that seeing it made it difficult for Lennier to breathe for a moment. As he watched, she leaned over and took his hand – or rather the hand of his nearly lifeless body – within her trembling grasp. And then she spoke, and Lennier found that he could hear her.
"Lennier," she all but whispered, her lovely, accented voice wavering with the tears that flowed freely down her face. "My sweet Lennier…I know you must be so tired, and that you are going to a place where you won't be hurting any more. And I know that I should be happy for you, for your soul to be free of its burdens. But Lennier…" A sob overwhelmed her before she could stop it, and Lennier felt hot tears burning his own cheeks, his pain mirroring hers. "…I don't want you to go. I want you by my side, just as you said you always would be. I'm sorry I never told you how much your friendship meant to me. You are my dearest friend, and I do not know what I am going to do without you." She was openly weeping now. "Oh Lennier, please come back to me."
Unable watch her suffer any longer, Lennier ran forward until he all but teetered on the very precipice of the riverbank and then dropped to his knees, ignoring cold wetness of the mud as it soaked through his robes. He reached out with his hand toward the water until the tips of his fingers were the smallest of movements away from touching it. He instinctively knew that if he made contact with the surface, Delenn would be gone, maybe forever. But she was in pain, so much pain. He had to get to her. The separation was overwhelming.
"Delenn, I'm here!" he cried. "I'm here, I'm right here!"
But she did not hear him. He called her name again and again, desperately willing either for her to turn and look at him or for his useless, lifeless body in Medlab to do something. But neither happened, and Delenn continued to weep, whimpering his name as he all but screamed hers.
"She cannot hear you," came Dukhat's quiet voice from behind him. The calmness with which he spoke infuriated Lennier. "Her consciousness is grounded in reality, and yours in this vision. You cannot reach her."
"I have to!" Lennier whirled around so quickly he very nearly lost his balance where he knelt and went plummeting into the river. "I have to get back to her! She's in pain, I have to help her, I have to…" He was nearly choking on his tears by now, caught between begging Dukhat for help and looking back toward Delenn's shaking form. Helplessly, Lennier was reduced to watching, knowing that there was nothing he could do to comfort her.
"Please," he whispered, speaking slowly because he needed to fight to keep his voice steady enough so that he could even get the words out. "I'll do anything. But I have to get back to her. Please."
"So, then, you are willing to accept that she will never be yours to love? You do not wish to die and leave her to live out her happy life with Sheridan after all?"
DOES SHE LOOK HAPPY TO YOU? Lennier wanted to scream. Delenn had brought the unconscious Lennier's hand up to her heart, a symbol of deep affection. Distantly, Lennier remembered having done the same thing to her the last time he had been lucid. Even if he had possessed the strength to speak more than a few words at the time, he would not have been able to articulate what she meant to him. No combination of words in any language in the universe could express what he felt for her.
And it was then that he realized that the form that their relationship took mattered not, because love was love. Love was putting someone else's needs and happiness before your own. Love was giving everything you had for them, even if you had nothing left to give. Love was fighting as hard as you could to get back to someone when you knew they needed you. And Lennier loved Delenn.
Slowly, he turned back to look at Dukhat. His chest and breath shuddered as he knelt in the cold mud of the riverbank, but his voice was as steady and as purposeful as it had ever been.
"She needs me. That is the only thing that matters."
The corners of the older Minbari's mouth turned upward, a hint of pride sparkling in his eyes. He waved his hand toward the river once more, and as Lennier watched, Delenn's face was caught by the lazily swirling current, and then it vanished from view. Lennier reached out in the direction the image had floated away, his tears making tiny ripples where they fell into the calm water near the bank.
The River Tuzen, he thought, the fittingness of the name not lost upon him, even in his compromised state. The River of Sorrows.
He heard a light disturbance behind him, and he turned to see Dukhat standing over him, his hand outstretched. With one final, longing glance downstream, Lennier accepted it. He had no reason not to – Delenn was gone. The taller Minbari pulled him to his feet, and then without a word, walked over to the large tree under which Lennier had spent so many summer afternoons reading and studying as his friends played in the water. Lennier followed him, and when Dukhat sat down and leaned against the wide, gnarled trunk, Lennier imitated his example. They sat there in silence for a long time, the quiet broken only the sounds of nature – the gurgle of the river, the light wind whispering through the trees' leaves – and Lennier's tremulous breathing. Finally, after what could have been minutes or hours – Lennier found that he had no sense of the passage of time within his vision – Dukhat spoke.
"I must apologize for putting you through such agony, particularly when you have already experienced so much recently. But you needed to know the truth – how important you are to Delenn. While her romantic love is indeed reserved for Sheridan, she holds another form of love for you that is just as strong. And just as important."
Lennier slowly looked up at him, the tiniest bit of hope blossoming in his tattered heart.
"That brings us to the third path your future can take from this point. Should you survive, having let go of your physical desires, your relationship with Delenn will deepen. You will share a bond stronger than friendship, and you will be ever by her side, just as I know your heart desires. You are no longer a lowly priest, my young friend, or even only a diplomatic aide – you have a part to play in many great events to come. The galaxy is poised on the edge of enormous changes, and both you and Delenn have indispensible roles in those changes. But each of you works best at the other's side – two minds will become one, and two hearts will overlap and overflow. You will care for each other, comfort each other, and support each other. You will laugh together, cry together, and dream together. And together, you will change the universe. Wonderful though it may sound, it will not be easy – the road will be long and dark and incredibly painful. You must support Delenn through her trials, even though you will learn things about her past that may disturb you. Oh, yes." Dukhat lifted a hand to silence Lennier's impending protest. "We all have our demons, even Delenn. But your devotion to her is strong – I have faith that you will fulfill your role as her guide successfully despite the tribulations, and I have no doubt that your love for her will never waver."
Lennier lowered his gaze for a moment in acknowledgment that this assumption was the absolute truth.
"What must I do to ensure that I am set on this path?"
The warmth in Dukhat's smile made Lennier realize why Delenn had been so fond of him.
"Allow me to reassure you that you are well on your way. The moment you let go of her, you sealed this option. The only thing you must do now is live."
"But how do I do that?" Lennier asked, his voice quavering once more as he recalled the last conversation he had had with Delenn.
"Delenn, it…it's not good, is it?"
"No, Lennier. It isn't."
She had tried to be calm and reassure him, but despite his fading vision he had been able to see the terrible fear in her eyes. That combined with her desperation in the vision he had just seen in the river told him that his situation was truly dire. He was dying, and Delenn knew it.
"I would not give up on your Doctor Franklin just yet," replied Dukhat knowingly. "He is a troubled soul, and you have posed quite a challenge even for his strong intellect, but soon I think he will make what he would call a 'breakthrough'. And until then…until then you must cling to the thing that makes life most worth living. Cling to her with all of your strength, and know that she is waiting for you on the other side of your great trial."
Lennier closed his eyes for a moment, remembering once more his last fading moments with Delenn, as that inexplicable feeling of peace had washed over him. She had reassured him that she would be there, that she would not leave him.
"She is," he whispered in agreement. "I have to live. For her."
"Have faith, my young friend," said Dukhat as Lennier opened his eyes. "Both in your friend the doctor and in yourself. You know what we say about faith, after all."
Lennier was finally able to produce the smallest of smiles.
"It manages."
"That it does," agreed Dukhat. "I have been watching both you and Delenn, and I must say that I am quite proud of way you have combined faith, logic and strategy in the trials you have faced so far. I always knew it of Delenn. Of course, at the beginning she was so reverent and humble that she practically tripped over her own robes bowing at me, but after a time she grew in confidence and ability, and I could see just how brilliant her mind really was. And you are so much like her, in more ways than you can imagine. With her leadership and open-heartedness and your perceptiveness and devotion, I have faith that the universe is in good hands, as long as you work together."
"I…I am not deserving of such compliments, Satai." Lennier's eyes flickered downward, but then he remembered to whom he spoke, and he forced his gaze upward. This action was not lost on Dukhat.
"You learn quickly," he chuckled. "Another similarity between the two of you. That is good." He cast his eyes upward, as though taking note of the position of the sun. "Our time here grows short, I am afraid. Soon, your mind must return to your body, and you must hold fast to life and to Delenn, as I have told you." The corners of his bearded mouth turned upward then.
"Allow me to offer you a parting piece of advice on behalf of our mutual friend. I know that your entire life has been one of service, and that you have been taught that caring for others is so much greater than receiving attention." Lennier nodded in affirmation, and Dukhat continued. "But do not forget that Delenn was also trained in the same way. I know it goes against your every instinct, but you must allow her to care for you a bit. You will be in need of it shortly. And by accepting her ministrations, you will in turn be attending to her needs."
Lennier triangled his hands and bowed in acceptance of the advice.
"I will bear that in mind, Satai. Thank you." He paused, gathering strength for the forwardness of what he was about to say to the great religious leader.
"Satai Dukhat, if I may be so bold…" he began hesitantly. Dukhat merely looked at him inquiringly, so Lennier swallowed hard and continued.
"Delenn cared a great deal for you, and I know she still misses you, even after all these years. She is the most important person in my life, and you helped to make her what she is. So for that, and for what you have done for me today, I offer you my deepest thanks."
Dukhat's expression took on a faraway look for a moment.
"And I have always cared a great deal for her. I am pleased that, despite not being able to be with her anymore, I have been able to watch her progress. I am very proud of her, but I am afraid you cannot tell her I said that. At least not yet." He focused his gaze on Lennier again. "You must keep this entire vision a secret from her until the time is right."
"How will I know when that is?" inquired Lennier. He had hoped to be able to share his experience with Delenn. He could only imagine the look on her face when he told her.
"You will know," said Dukhat simply, but in a manner that made Lennier know beyond the shadow of a doubt that he would not be able to get any more information on the matter out of him. He was about to bow his respects again when he suddenly began to feel terribly sleepy. It was not an unpleasant feeling, but he found he could not fight it.
"Good luck, my young friend," he heard Dukhat say.
Thank you, Lennier thought. And then the sweet sights of his childhood darkened around him. The last thing he saw in his mind's eye before he knew no more was Delenn, still sitting at his bedside in Medlab, stroking his knuckles with her thumb, worry written across her every feature. Lennier felt his heart break for the millionth time, but this time he did not let overwhelm him. Because the fight within him had been renewed, and he knew it was only a matter of time until he was back where he belonged.
Hold on, Delenn. I'm coming.
