Castis wasn't sure how long it took them to get to Palaven, time seemed to stand still and then suddenly happen all at once.
One moment they were on a transport, the lights dim, the drive core humming, the loud, curt announcements ringing in their ears, and the next they were at a port; bright and busy, surrounded by the miscellaneous sounds of the people around them. Then another ship, then another port, a seemingly unending loop that was confusing and mind-numbing. It also didn't help that he kept nodding off, long blinks becoming bursts of microsleep that left him jarred and disoriented when his eyes snapped back open.
But he couldn't let his guard down, not for a second. Marcella was pressed against him, arms around his shoulders and head against his chest, squeezing him as though he was in danger of disappearing. By the constant change in the tempo of her breathing, she was also in and out of a restless sleep. Castis was holding her equally tight, his arms were stiff and numb from not moving for hours. He wouldn't let her go. Not when at any moment after they landed they could be approached by armed men and told there had been a mistake and have her hauled away never to be seen again.
Even while deboarding they had pressed tight against each other as if one singular being, shuffling together from shuttle to port to ship to port to civilian transport. On and on and on.
When they finally approached a shining, silver speck that slowly grew massive in the tiny cabin window, a pit formed in Castis's stomach. Palaven, the peak of turian civilization, undefeatable, unconquerable, unyielding. A sight he hadn't seen in far too long and wondered if he would ever see again. He hadn't been there since his father died and even then it was just to settle affairs. He had left immediately after.
He felt the ship enter atmo and Marcella tightened her hold on him. He squeezed her back, partially to reassure her and partially from his own anxiety. After they docked they found themselves stalling just outside the doors as others filed out around them. Castis gave her a cautious look. Her expression was impossible to read. "Ready?" he asked, a little unnecessarily.
For a moment she just looked silently out onto the platform, eyes darting around the station like a prey animal gathering its bearings. Then like the flip of a switch, the fear was gone and he was met with a face that looked almost bored. "Of course," she said. And with that, she finally released him and stepped out with the rest of the passengers leaving him to tag along after.
Despite his long absence, Cipritine was exactly how Castis had remembered. The same imposing silver skyscrapers, the same throngs of painted faces of all colors, the same uniformity that encompassed the planet - clean, rigid, organized. But the familiarity of it all was dull. There was no pleasant sense of homecoming. There were no warm lingering feelings from his youth. He ignored the buildings, the lines of the skycars, the bustle of the people. He instead focused on Marcella, nervously eyeing her to see her reaction.
She had said she had never been to the homeworld before. He expected to see her in a kind of awe, transfixed by the dizzying height of the skyscrapers, marveling at the sharp, geometric angles of architecture, gawking at the many many monuments to triumph. But she didn't seem to notice or care about any of that. Instead, her eyes were down, looking intently between the bases of the buildings and seemingly scanning the ground for something.
It wasn't until he noticed her go rigid at the sight of a small bush adorning the front of a shop – her eyes lighting up at the speck of green among the silver– that he finally realized what she was looking for. After that, he noticed every head-jerk and trill whenever they passed a flower bed, a weed stubbornly growing between a crack on the sidewalk or any kind of vegetation at all. But that wasn't the only thing he noticed.
The stares. Everyone's eyes seemed to follow them. Or more specifically, her. He was so focused on the looks that he hadn't even noticed that despite being at a crowded intersection there was a good two feet of open space surrounding them. And when they began to move again the crowd automatically parted, giving them a wide berth as though they were emanating some sort of foul odor. He shot another look at Marcella as his heart started to pound.
She didn't meet his eye, she was too busy fiddling with her clothes. Her head was down with her chin tucked to her chest and it looked like she was trying to pull the collar of her jacket up as far as it could go. It took Castis a second before he realized.
She was trying to cover her face.
His chest tightened and a wave of conflicting emotions cascaded down on him like a waterfall. Outrage, guilt, and a shameful dash of pity. His hands shook as he edged closer to her in a poor attempt to shield her with his body. But there was no hiding from every wry look, every not-so-subtle hum of disdain.
When he had heard that her sentence was to report to Palaven, he considered it an uncharacteristically benevolent act of mercy. But now he wasn't so sure.
After what seemed like hours of walking amongst crowds and passing building after identical building, they reached a transit depot and clambered into a tiny skycar. Castis's hands were still shaking so violently he could barely input the coordinates for their destination. As the shuttle took to the air and pulled out of the station, Marcella's demeanor finally began to change. This time she was looking up, her head squashed against the side of the window, her neck craned up in a way that must've been uncomfortable. He even saw her mandibles flick into a small smile.
The skycar went on until it grew dark and the lights of Cipritine were but a twinkle on the horizon. The windows were now filled with the sight of rolling hills and spaced-out housing. At this point, Marcella had pressed her entire face to the window. Castis couldn't see her expression but by the hum of her sub-vocals, she was starting to get excited.
Finally, they came upon a particularly familiar house. Thin and towering and gray with its few high windows dark and unwelcoming. Like most turian houses it was plain and practical, resembling an outpost more than a civilian dwelling. As they stepped out of the skycar and approached the front door, Castis's stomach sank. It was hardly a place one would consider 'homey' even before it was unoccupied. He thought of the condition inside after years of vacancy. They had traveled all this way and this was all he had to show for it. He would like to say that he lost count of how many times he had looked at Marcella apprehensively that day but of course, he hadn't. So for the 27th time that day, he waited for her reaction.
But she didn't seem disappointed at all. "...You didn't tell me you lived in a mansion."
Castis frowned as he looked up at the tall but otherwise completely unremarkable building. It was hardly a 'mansion'; it was sizable but narrow and each floor consisted of one giant room that was stacked on top of the other for three stories. Compared to the other houses in the area it was ancient and ugly and its distance from the heart of Cipritine was an inconvenience that had incurred the ire of his father on more than one occasion. "It's…really not impressive. My parents didn't think so, at least."
Marcella looked at him and then back up at the house. "I'm guessing they wouldn't have been too pleased about this whole situation."
Castis clenched his jaw so tight it was almost painful. For a second he tried to imagine a scenario in which his parents were still alive and he had to dutifully announce to them that he had abandoned his post after killing a Hierarchy war hero for a bare-faced woman who had the citizenship equivalent of a child. If they weren't already dead they would've keeled over. Actually, they probably would've killed him first then keeled over. A strange cold settled in his chest. His parents were long gone and the house was all his but as he looked up at the place he had spent most of his life in he swore he could still feel their presence loom over him. He suddenly felt very small.
Marcella stepped forward and made a show of rapping on the thick door. The sound echoed and her brow plates raised as she turned to ogle at the complex security paneling. "Seems…fortified."
His parents had always been overly cautious despite the improbability of any trouble and now with the state the house was in it seemed even more superfluous. But if it was his now, he supposed he could use it. Wouldn't hurt to protect what he cared for most - and that certainly wasn't the furniture. But it still wasn't very likely. And yet… "It's old," Castis replied. "I'll have to install an upgrade. As long as you live here, anyone who attempts to break in will regret it."
"Oh? Thinking about some more extreme security measures?"
"Maybe I am."
"Well, why not - as long as you don't boobytrap the place or anything," Marcella teased.
He clicked his mandibles skeptically. "I wouldn't go that far...unless…hm…." Now that he was thinking about it, perhaps that wasn't such a bad idea. Could never be too careful after all. Maybe if he altered the door wiring he could–
"So, are we gonna go inside at some point or…?"
"...Right." He shook his head to dissipate the thoughts of mangled intruders and tapped in the code. When the door slid open with a rusty clang, he motioned her forward. "After you."
She rubbed her hands together excitedly.
Marcella stood in the doorway of a lavish mansion she was now apparently going to live in.
It was filthy, sure. The furniture was old and decrepit. Dust coated every surface. The walls were peeling and the air was stale. But she didn't notice that. She noticed the high ceiling, the large double doors across the room that looked like they led to a backyard, the stairs in the back that led to more floors, more windows, more space than she had ever had to call her own. She had never lived in a house before let alone one like this. "...This is the nicest place I've ever stayed in," she said.
"You…like it?"
"Are you kidding?" She walked into what she supposed was the living room, passing an ancient gray couch and coming up to a wall with a giant bookshelf lined with drawers and hard copies of books. She ran a finger over their dusty spines. "We're gonna live here?"
Castis still stood by the door, surveying the damage, hands on his hips. "Yes, but it is old. My father inherited it before I was born."
"How long has it been in your family?"
"I'm not sure, I know it belonged to my grandmother. When she bonded with my grandfather, he took her name and they…"
Marcella tried to listen but couldn't tear her eyes away from the room. There were no pictures on the walls or decor of any kind - not surprising, traditionally turians were not known to be art connoisseurs - but there was a lot of what she supposed were family heirlooms and military memorabilia (or both?). What looked like little statues, parts of some old weapons, and documents that seemed important lined the shelves topped with a thick layer of dust. She took her time checking out the shelves on the wall before turning back to the bookshelf, picking through the old books, and opening the various drawers to peek inside. Most of them were empty, obviously cleared out a long time ago, or maybe even held nothing to begin with. But one had something shoved in the back and she reached for it among the grime and old papers. It was not a holo but an old-fashioned picture in a thin frame displaying a man, woman, and child. The man was slightly hunched, his plates cracked and scarred in his advanced age. He had very familiar broad shoulders, a broad face, and blue colony markings, though the look on his face seemed angrier than she had ever seen on Cas, which was saying something. The woman next to him was younger, though still middle-aged, with dark purple stripes on her face. Her nose plates were scrunched and her mandibles were tight, looking as if she would rather have been anywhere else. Between them was Cas, probably around ten, standing even straighter than usual as though a rope was pulling him up by his neck. He looked terrified.
"...so it's nothing special. Are you sure it's okay?"
Marcella stuffed the picture back into the drawer and pretended to be looking at a cabinet full of medals. "Oh, definitely."
"I suppose I could always sell it," she heard him muse from behind. "Get something smaller and newer..."
At this, she turned around. "No way, this is great! How long has it been, uh, unoccupied?"
Castis had begun taking the dusty pillows from the couch and putting them in a pile on the floor along with some old blankets. "About 6 years now, since my father died." I had to take care of everything before I shipped out."
Marcella hummed sympathetically. "That couldn't have been easy."
Castis didn't even bother with a token sigh of remorse. "We weren't close. He spent a lot of time away."
The twisted scowl of the purple-faced woman floated into her mind's eye. "...Well your mom was around, right?"
Something flickered in his eyes that she didn't quite catch. "Technically," he said.
She waited a moment to see if he would elaborate but he just continued to gather cushions silently. She took the hint. "Huh."
She helped gather everything remotely soft for a makeshift bed in the living room (Castis hadn't been too keen on sleeping in his parent's bedroom) and, after a particularly languid session, they both laid together silently. He was on his back and she was curled next to him, head resting on his chest. She heard his mandibles click anxiously above her. "Sorry about not having…" he looked around at the dusty blankets, "…a bed."
Marcella smirked. "You think sleeping on the floor of an old mansion is the worst place I've ever slept?"
"It's not a…" She felt his chest sink with a sigh. "You deserve more than this. I know it's not much of a home but…"
Marcella's stomach clenched and she fixed her gaze somewhere on the ceiling.
"Home! Home!"
"Calm down, little one–"
"Home!" Marcella's tiny body shook as she continued to chirp desperately around her. "Home! Please!"
A woman looked down at her, a stranger. Her face was hard, though her eyes were full of pity. " This is your home now."
"Mom...my…?" Marcella whimpered, clutching at the thin blanket. "Da…?"
"They are gone. You live here now. We will take care of you." The purr of the stranger's subvocals was gentle but with an edge of impatience. Keen to move on and deal with the many other squeaking orphans that occupied the other beds in the cramped room. "Try to get some sleep."
Marcella wasn't sure she could ever sleep again. Every time she closed her eyes the sounds and images were amplified tenfold, making her wheeze and shake, fighting to keep herself from clawing out her ears and eyes. "No…no…!"
"...You know, 'home' never really meant anything to me," she said.
Castis said something that sounded reassuring, she couldn't pay attention. A strange weight was pressing down around her that wasn't just from the exhausting day. Now that she was safe and comfortable these feelings would probably be more recurrent. Great.
By the rumble of his subvocals, he must have sensed her mood. He shifted his body until he was curled around her, his arms tight around her waist. "I love you," he breathed into the top of her head.
Marcella continued to stare at the ceiling. A voice in her head cut through the silence.
Just say it back. What's wrong with you?
But another voice was louder.
Yeah, go ahead. Say it out loud and jinx the whole thing. Admit to the universe you're finally happy and see what happens.
So instead she turned toward him, burying her face against his neck, and purred as loud and sincere as she could and hoped he knew what she meant.
—Day 1—
Marcella had never been so happy to wake up on the floor of an unfamiliar place in her life.
The house certainly looked more accommodating during the day, albeit much dirtier than she had realized. The sun shining through the windows illuminated every speck of dust in the air making everything look fuzzy and out of focus. It was beautiful. So it wasn't some insane dream after all. This was her house now. Their house.
Speaking of 'they'...
She turned to the sleeping form next to her. "You slept in," she murmured.
Cas stirred, turning to blink at her sleepily, and raised his head toward the window. Judging by the light it looked like it was late morning. "...Yeah, I guess I did."
"What - no scrambling to get back to base? Won't you get in trouble?"
"...Very funny," he said dryly.
They stayed in their blanket pile for the rest of the morning. It was strange having nothing to do, nowhere to go, not having to sneak and hide. It was nice. But Castis could only take it for so long.
He sat up and started folding the blankets, the urge to be productive finally seeming to overwhelm him. "Right. First things first, we need to organize, make this place livable, buy food, sort finances, find work–"
Marcella yawned exaggeratingly and stretched out to get more comfortable in the blankets he was attempting to fold. "Are we sure you don't wanna just lie around the house naked?"
"Hmph, you can relax, I'm gonna make a list. There's a lot to do." He then hummed a chastising tone. "At least scootch off the blankets so I can fold them."
She whined in protest as she sat up, throwing on her clothes from yesterday and moving to the dusty couch. It released an obscene amount of dust as she flopped onto it. "I'm still waking up, just give me a second. Can't we enjoy this just a little longer? We don't have to rush, right?"
Castis had finished gathering the blankets and was messing with his omni-tool but he lowered his arm slowly. "...I suppose not." His eyes darted around the room as though mentally tallying all the projects he needed to work on but otherwise, he sat still. For a second. His mandibles twitched. His leg started to bounce. It was funny to see him make such a concerted effort to relax, he didn't seem to know what to do with himself when he wasn't working. "Do you want to watch something?" he said after a few moments.
"That's more like it." Marcella turned and raised her brow plates at an old, dusty vid-set mounted on the wall. It would be a miracle if it still worked. "Go for it." She heard a shuffle and a click and the vid-set flickered to life. A frighteningly familiar face filled the whole screen.
"–aldos, once known as the Pride of Palaven, dead at 54. Stationed on Kaeus in the Novolion system, Faldos was found unresponsive on base. Local authorities have ruled out foul play but increased criminal activity in the area may have led to –"
The vid-set immediately flicked off and Marcella found herself staring at her reflection in the black screen.
"Never mind," she heard Castis's voice quiver. The sound of quickened footsteps behind her indicated his retreat out of the room, accompanied by nervous muttering.
Damn it. She sprung off the couch and went after him. He had made a beeline to the adjacent room, a kitchen practically stripped bare and she poked her head cautiously through the doorway, still feeling like a stranger in this giant house. From behind, his shoulders bobbed up and down and there was a distinct rustling sound - the tell-tale signs of his hands working furiously. He was still muttering. "43, 44…so stupid…should've been me…should go into hiding….52,53–"
"Oh, come on, it's okay!" she called out from the doorway. "It's not like anyone knows that we…were…"
He turned and gave her one of his signature looks. She had learned them all by now but there were three he always had in heavy rotation: the 'I'm disappointed in you', the famous 'This is my idea of a smile', and 'This is the worst thing that has ever happened.' It was the latter.
"...I'm sure it'll be old news by tomorrow!" she chuckled at him weakly. When he still gave her That Look she continued: "It's not a big deal, even they thought so, they let me off with a slap on the wrist–"
"A slap on the wrist?!" Cas puffed up like an animal ready to pounce. "Do you have any idea what they did? Don't you realize they took everything from you?"
Marcella let out a laugh that came out a little louder than it needed to be. "Well, good thing I had nothing."
"It's not - it's different here. You're used to the terminus systems - on Palaven, as a turian, as a civilian –"
"Oh no," she slacked her mandibles and her subtones whined mockingly, "not my citizenship!"
"You won't be able to do anything, you'll have no rights–"
"Whatever."
"I shouldn't have let you." He was really spiraling now, breath coming hard and hands mashing, pacing in a tight circle hypnotically. "It should have been me - I might have gotten off easier - now you'll have to start all over–"
"I don't care, Cas!" she snapped, the words echoing off the high ceiling of the kitchen. She swallowed and attempted to cut the annoyed edge out of her subvocals. "Stop. It's fine."
I'm used to it.
"It was worth it," she continued, hoping this small assurance would shut down a conversation she wasn't ready to have. The reality of the situation hadn't fully settled in yet. She couldn't say she wasn't astonished at how this had all turned out, how insanely lucky she was, how she should be grateful she didn't spend the rest of her life in a cage the size of a closet. Was it because it was self-defense? Was it because Faldos was so awful they jumped at any opportunity to be rid of him? Was it because they knew Cas didn't do it? She supposed she would never know and consider herself lucky all the same. But the cost…
The whole ride to Palaven she had tried not to think about the bandages that covered Castis's left mandible and down the side of his neck. She had tried not to think about how he winced every time he sat up or how he still had a slight hobble to his gait. She had tried not to think about how this entire thing was her fault and how none of this wouldn't have happened if she had just kept her damn mouth shut. It was her fault so she took the fall. It was what she deserved. She would be damned if Castis had to pay for it. But stubborn as he was, he still did. So, here they were. And she would spend the rest of her life making it up to him.
She turned away and marched toward the front door. "Let's go out. Show me around and we'll get some supplies, follow your little list." Any distraction would do.
Castis seemed reluctant but finally huffed, his desire to be productive ultimately coming through. "...Yeah, okay. But…I should go alone."
" Oh?"
"I mean - not that you shouldn't, it's just…" He paused, hiding a grimace. "I would understand if you're not keen on leaving the house with all the…it being a new area and all."
He was being dodgy of course, but she knew he had noticed the general reaction to her. It was impossible not to notice. It had admittedly unnerved her.
Marcella didn't know if it was because she finally had a good night's sleep or if this whole situation actually didn't turn out to be some grand delusion, but she was feeling a hell of a lot better than yesterday. Today was the first day of the rest of their lives. Who gave a damn? She lifted her chin defiantly as she walked out the door. "Let them stare."
The suburbs were a lot less intimidating than Cipritine, a small reprieve Marcella appreciated. The atmosphere out in the country seemed a little more laid back - well, as laid back as turians could be, she supposed. The town center was practically quaint with open-air stalls and small businesses turning it into what resembled more of a swap meet than a shopping center. Even the skycars above passed more leisurely over the smaller shops and houses. The people milling about were also either older or much younger; retirees in their golden years or young families just starting out on their own.
Marcella was still getting some looks - though far less than in the city - even while wearing her hood up to bring less attention to her face. Something in her mannerisms must have given her away as an outsider since there still seemed to be some kind of invisible social barrier between her and everyone else. Castis, with his aura of vigilance and discipline, acted as a decent buffer. Instinctively she reached for his hand but as soon as she had brushed against his fingers he made a fist and pulled away, rumbling in a low tone. Okay, not surprisingly he wasn't a fan of PDA. She had mostly assumed his past avoidance was due to the secret nature of their relationship but now realized he was just reserved when others were around. It wasn't out of any kind of embarrassment; his body language and the underlying thrum in his subvocals as he spoke to her made it apparent to anyone that they were a mated pair. But touching in any kind of public setting seemed to be a no-go. Well, fair enough. He more than made up for it when they were alone anyway.
So, she just focused on trying not to stand out too much. It wasn't that hard, even with the looks and physical avoidance everyone already seemed preoccupied. The air was rife with feverish discussion. The mood seemed different for every conversation but they were all talking about the same thing.
"…'found unresponsive' - yeah, right …"
"…an embarrassment. They're glad to be rid of him…"9
"…how dare you! He was a hero during the…"
Marcella hummed a loud and annoying song to herself in a vain attempt to drown out the chatter. How long is this gonna go on? Surely, it wouldn't follow them forever, right? Who was she kidding, it would probably never fully be forgotten. Turians.
But before she could clock Castis's reaction, her train of thought immediately crashed and burned. There it was, nestled in between two unassuming shops. Bunches of bright colors - stems, leaves, petals. A flower stall. She scampered over and her mandibles hitched up in excitement. But as soon as she reached the stall they had drooped in dismay. Her eyes roved over the sea of colored flowers; teals, oranges, purples, following the green stems down to their pots. No, not pots. Vases. Oh. She reached out and took a pre-cut, pre-arranged bouquet of sea-green flowers from its vase. The water dripped off the tied stems and onto the floor. The petals were already beginning to wilt.
She flipped the bouquet over and pointed to the sheared stems. "They're all cut."
"Yeah?"
"They're already dead."
He cocked his head in confusion. "Shouldn't they still last a little while as long as you put them in water?"
"Oh, right, so they die a little slower." She put the bouquet back into its vase and gave him a poignant look. He still looked lost. "If the plant was whole it would still be alive," she emphasized. "It would last - it would continue to grow. Flowers belong in pots, not vases. This," she waved a hand in disgust at the stall, "is a waste."
Cas frowned at the stall."I guess I never thought of it like that." He placed his fingers lightly on her shoulder, the maximum amount of physical contact deemed appropriate. "…There is a memorial garden a few blocks from here. I think you'd appreciate that more."
Marcella perked up. "Now you're talking. Lead the way."
She couldn't help but take in the atmosphere one last time and they left the plaza. Besides the obvious gossip of the day and the icy reception to her, everything plodded along like any other functional society. It was all very…normal. Marcella chuckled lightly to herself and nudged Cas with her elbow. "You know, it's kind of funny, I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I guess I thought it would be more–"
BBBZZZZNG!
A shrill sound rang out from the tower in the middle of the square and everything came to a halt.
Everyone had stopped what they were doing. Men, women, and children all went silent immediately and stood in place. They emptied their hands of anything they carried; bags dropped to the floor at their feet, food was left forgotten on plates. Even the skycars above them slowed to a stop. They all froze in place. Marcella froze too, her nerves screaming in alarm at the statuesque people, one hand instinctively hovering over her knife on her hip. Mechanically they all turned to the tower and saluted. For a wild second, she thought that they all might turn on her and rip her apart.
Her eyes darted to Cas for some kind of answer but he had fallen in line with the rest of them: silent, still, dead to anything else. She was the odd one out.
Then a song came blaring out of the tower. A vaguely familiar song.
Spirits, it was the turian imperial anthem. Her fear melted away into annoyance and she shoved her hands into her pockets. There were a few more bars of the warbling, insufferable tune and then it ended.
Everything moved again. Conversations resumed, bags were picked up, and people continued their pace to wherever they were going like nothing had happened.
Cas's hand dropped to his side and he turned toward her. "Sorry, I should have warned you, that happens every day at this time. You'll get used to it."
Marcella paused for a moment then slowly nodded, eyes narrowing at the tower and then back at the now completely normal people continuing their business. Her subvocals hummed in validation. "... There it is."
"What?"
"Nothing - let's go to that memorial."
—Day 5—
"Why would anyone need a tub this big?"
Castis didn't look up from the grimy tile of the bathroom floor he had been scrubbing for the last two hours. "Ask my grandparents."
He could hear Marcella attempting to scale the inside side of the tub, her talons making a sharp sound against the porcelain. "I feel like if a little animal got stuck in here they'd never get out. How were you not afraid you would drown?"
Castis huffed a laugh. "When I was little it felt like an ocean. I used to pretend it was."
"Aww." She poked her head over the side of the tub. "You like taking baths?"
"Showers are much more efficient. I can't say I care for it now. Do you like baths?"
Marcella shrugged. "I don't know, I've never had one before."
Castis sat up on his knees, his sponge lying forgotten on the tile floor. "Is that so…"
"What do you think?"
Marcella stared at the multi-colored swirls of soap that spun lazily in the water around her. The tub was so large and the water so deep that it reached her chin, submerging the rest of her in expensive soaps. She cupped a hand into the bath water and slowly lifted it, letting the water spill out between her fingers. "It's so…" she closed her eyes and raised her brow plates in an expression of mock regality, "... decadent."
"I take it you like it then?" Castis said.
"Oh servant?" she clapped her hands smartly in his direction. "My robe, please. I mustn't be late for the gala."
Castis hitched his mandibles in a small smile. He reached over and offered her a clean towel, his subvocals playing along with her tone. "My lady."
"On second thought, why don't you join me?" she purred, splashing the water playfully in his direction.
"Oh, uh, I thought you should be able to enjoy it for yourself since you've never–"
She snatched him by the ankle and yanked, catching him off-balance. He clawed at the side of the tub in a vain attempt to stay out but could already feel himself falling in.
"Wait - no - clothes–! "
—Day 22—
"Cas! Cas - come up here! Hurry!"
Castis dropped everything and sprinted up the stairs. Finding the bedroom empty, he flung himself to the double doors that led out to the balcony. Storm clouds had gathered that evening threatening an inevitable downpour and by the sounds of the rattling on the roof, it had finally delivered.
"What happened? Are you okay?"
Marcella was out on the balcony surrounded by dozens of potted plants already starting to bud. She was looking straight up into the sky, mouth hanging open as the storm came down around her. She looked ecstatic. "It's raining! "
"...Yeah?"
"Isn't that exciting?!"
Castis took in the sight. Marcella had taken to wearing bold tunics lately, borderline garish in reds, pinks, and oranges. The rain had drenched her turning her red tunic into burgundy. It took him a moment to realize. "You've…never seen rain before."
"Well, sort of but not like…just look at this!" She gestured at all of it, the sky, the water, the lightning as though it was some kind of once-in-a-lifetime event.
"Come inside, you're getting soaked."
Marcella just laughed. "I know! "
—Day 78—
"Alright, cadets, listen up."
Castis stared down the twenty-or-so pairs of eyes in front of him. So naive, so untested - no experience at all. They didn't understand how serious this was. He heard their giggles, their scoffs, their idle chatter. They had no idea.
"This is not a game," Castis continued. "This is life or death, do you understand me? One wrong move and you go home in a box to your whimpering mother."
A chime sounded through the air. The sign across the street started to flash. There was the signal. It was now or never. He got into position and kept his voice steady. He needed to be strong for them.
"Here we go - ready…and…" He started forward, bringing his hand down in front of him like a hammer. "Cross!"
The gaggle of children followed him out into the street. They scampered along the lines of the crosswalk, shouting and laughing as they rushed past him like a waist-high river. Castis shouted after them. "Hey - hey - slow down! No pushing! Eyes forward, you hear me? Hurry up - I said no pushing! You want me to tell your parents?!"
"...And then the littlest varren said, 'I'm not afraid! My big brother will gobble you up!'" Marcella tapped the screen revealing an illustrated picture of a particularly adorable baby varren growling at some sort of mythical creature she would have to remember to look up later. "He's much bigger and stronger than I am!"
The children shuffled closer, craning their necks to see the page. The younger ones in front put their tiny claws up in an attempt to bat at the picture. "'Just you wait till he comes!'" she continued to read, as she pulled a particularly adventurous dark-plated toddler away from the book and back into her lap.
"You're so good with them." Matron Fillia, an older woman with light blue markings on her nose and mouth plates told her after story time was over. "They just gravitate to you."
Marcella glanced at the children now tumbling and chasing each other in the playroom. "Well…I know what they're going through." She had only been with Orphans of War for a few weeks but it was hard not to get attached to the kids. It was a bittersweet reminder of her time at the shelter and she tried to avoid those conflicting feelings by throwing herself into trying to entertain. The children certainly seemed to favor her over "Matron" Fillia. Her idea of entertainment was running them through drills and giving them kitchen utensils in place of toys.
"They certainly listen to you more," Fillia said. "They kept leaving their playthings everywhere so I took them away. Now they play with their food. Little Tiberius smeared his baby food all over the wall. I think he did it just to test me."
Marcella just smiled politely. Nope. Definitely not very matronly. And like hell she was gonna say something and lose the only job she could get with her low tier.
A high-pitched screech rang out from the next room. The children yelped and soon the room was full the sound of their tiny nails scraping against the floor as they skittered to safety under their beds. Marcella's blood ran cold. She was all too familiar with that sound.
The matron sighed and shook her head. "It's 36 again."
Marcella felt her stomach twist. "He still doesn't have a name yet?"
"We haven't finished going through the files. He's still…acclimating."
Marcella followed the wails into the bedroom, where a tiny brown-plated child no more than 2 was writhing in misery, eyes squeezed shut and tiny fists banging against the sides of his crib.
She held him against her neck, hoping the warmth and vibrations of her subvocals could do something to soothe him. He kept screeching and twisting his tiny body, his claws flailing wildly at her neck. She just purred louder until his shrieks became less shrill and his thrashing became more subdued. Finally, he resigned himself to curling Into a ball against her throat, still whimpering and shaking. Long after he finally fell asleep she still hummed, the same thing over and over.
I'm sorry.
—Day 130—
"I'm back. And I made a little detour."
Marcella looked up from where she was repairing the leg of one of the ancient tables, her eyes lit up at the sight of the bags Castis was holding. "Exotic fruit stand?"
"Yep."
"Did you get any prinliks?"
Castis held out one of the bags to her. "I might've got a couple…"
"Yes!" She scrambled to her feet and snatched the bag, immediately rifling through it. She took out a blue spotted melon and immediately sank her teeth into it.
Castis's mandibles flicked in contentment as he walked past her and into the kitchen. Trying every fruit and vegetable on Palaven had been one of her goals and she seemed to have loved everything he brought home.
"Damn, I love these," he heard her say through a mouthful. "I just wish they weren't so spicy."
Castis's brow plates furrowed as he placed the remaining bag onto the kitchen counter. Prinliks were a tart but otherwise innocuous fruit. "Spicy?"
"Yeah, like how they make your mouth all tingly and burn your throat and your face gets really hot. You know?"
Castis turned, rumbling in concern. "No...are you sure you're not allergic?"
He almost jumped at the sight of her. Marcella's skin had flushed and started to swell, distorting her plates as hives started to break out on her neck. The skin around her watery eyes puffed, almost forcing them shut. She opened her mouth revealing a swollen tongue. "Ah-her-gik?"
—Day 208—
"Pleeeaaase?"
"No."
"Come on!"
"No."
"Afraid I might surprise you?" Marcella teased, turning onto her side and propping herself up on an elbow. "I can be pretty quick with my hands too, you know. Come on, twist my arm, try to pin me down, show me how you do it."
Castis leaned back down onto the grass. He crossed his arms and shut his eyes, blocking out the sky that was already starting to shift into a dark evening blue. He refused to engage. "We've been through this…"
"Please - you're being ridiculous. I'm pretty sure I can handle it." He felt her lie down next to him. They had been spending most of their evenings out in the grass in the backyard - old habit, he supposed. The backyard garden was turning out really well, with a few fruit and vegetable plants in a thin line that should hopefully be productive in a few years. There was no fence, just an open field that seemed to stretch on forever, dotted with few potted flowers. The small buds were just starting to unfurl now that the harsh sun was almost out of sight.
Castis was adamant. "I don't want to hurt you."
"You - pfft - you think you're gonna hurt me?" he heard her scoff.
He peeked an eye at her. His subvocals rumbled in a tone that came out a little too smug. "I did last time."
"You…!" She scrambled to her feet, playful fury in her eyes. "Fight me!" She cuffed him on the shoulder. Hard.
Castis slowly hitched his mandibles up into a scowl. A low growl rumbled out in his throat. "...If you insist."
He took his time rising from the grass, stretching his arms, and dusting off the dirt from his knees. Fine, he'd play this game If that's what she wanted. It was hardly the first time he had to put someone in their place and if she wanted to test him then he would be more than happy to demonstrate. Not enough to hurt of course but enough to make her eat her words at least.
Marcella was already bouncing on her feet and punching the air with her fists. "C'mon - c'mon, tough guy ."
His rumble pitched up into something excited despite himself. "Show me what you got."
Her mandibles flicked in excitement. "That's it!"
In seconds she was on the ground. Then again. And again. It was easy. It was too easy. He started to react a little slower, a half second too late, a foot out of place. When she went left, he just so happened to go left. She grabbed him by the waist and took him down.
"Ha!" She looked way too pleased with herself as she held him down. "I did it! I did it! How do you like that–"
One move and he was on top of her, holding her wrists above her head. "Never-let-up-until-you-have-truly-disabled-your-opponent!" he shouted, emphasizing the words. "That's the first rule of–"
She lifted her head and nipped the small bit of his arm that she could reach.
"Hey!" he shouted, sitting up and holding his forearm. "You're not supposed to use your mouth that's misconduct–"
"That so?" She growled suggestively. "Come down here and I'll show you what else I can do with it."
"Nice try. I'm not falling for that again."
"Betrayal!" She draped an arm over her eyes dramatically. "I feel like the lady Antissia…"
"Who?"
"A fierce warrior, betrayed by her own court. They surrounded her on the battlefield. She pressed her sword to her chest and pierced her heart." Marcella mimed the action. "Rather than have them take her...!"
He furrowed his brow plates. "I've never heard this story before…"
"Her blood covered the battlefield and drowned all her enemies. Infused with her spirit, it made all the oceans of Palaven," she finished wistfully.
"Oh. Mythology."
Marcella looked at him with big watery eyes and keened mournfully. "I thought you liked mythology…!"
"I…uh…" Castis shrunk into his cowl. "I might not have been…entirely truthful about that."
She dropped the act immediately. "I know. I can always tell when you're lying."
"You can?"
"Yeah, you wrinkle your nose and the tip of your tongue sticks out."
"Oh." Castis blinked. "Wait, what? Really?"
"No." She crawled out from under him, her mandibles tight to her face to keep from laughing. "Has anyone ever told you you're really easy to mess with?"
Fedorians wide, laughing face swam into his mind's eye. "Yes," he grumbled. "All the time."
She snickered and took hold of his shoulders. He allowed himself to be pushed back down on the grass and she crawled on top of him, making herself comfortable on his chest. She closed her eyes with a sigh, head on her hands, subtones purring and mandibles fluttering. He looked at her and he ached. There was no one else. There was never going to be anyone else.
This is it. Do it.
He clenched his fists at his sides staring determinedly at those stupid innumerous stars.
Do it now.
He had been putting it off for so long and he didn't even know why. It should have been done ages ago.
"...So, I've been thinking…" he started reluctantly, "that we…"
"You read my mind." In an instant, she sat up, nipping playfully at his chin as her humming turned devious.
"Wait - no - not...that…"
"Oh?"
"It's…um…" Nothing else was coming out. His breath started to come fast. His mandibles twitched nervously.
Marcella sat up and stared down at his heaving chest. Her eyes flicked to his face. "Uh oh."
"I….uh…." He looked down and realized he had unconsciously laced his fingers together and was squeezing them painfully.
Her gentle hum became concerned and her brow plates lifted. "Oh, this is a big one."
He swallowed. "I want to…"
No. Wrong.
He tried again. "We should…"
No. Still not how it was done. "Will you…?" He couldn't finish. His mouth felt like it was full of sand. He clapped a hand over his eyes. It shouldn't be this hard after all this time.
"It's okay, take your time," he heard her chuckle.
Finally, it came out through clenched teeth. "...Get. Married." He ventured a peek at her through his parted fingers.
For a moment she just stared at him blankly and he could practically see the words slowly making their way into her ears, into her mind, being churned into something with meaning. Then all at once she started, eyes wide and mandibles flaring. "…Seriously?"
He sputtered stupidly. "I - would've brought it up sooner - or not at all if you're not–"
The tone of her subvocals sounded mixed. "You'd want to…with me?"
His fear turned into disbelief. "Of course I do. I just...I didn't want to scare you with the idea."
She gave him a long look. "...Cas, you brought up marriage on our first date, remember?"
His mandibles tightened against his face in embarrassment. Did he? Probably. Ugh.
"You would really want to be stuck with a…" she faltered for a moment, "...someone like me for the rest of your life?"
Castis felt like his heart would burst out of his chest. "More than anything," he said.
She gave him another long look as though even after all this time she was searching for the lie, the ulterior motive. "…Okay. Okay. Let's do it," Marcella replied with a sly look. "If you'll have me."
His heart felt like it would beat out of his chest. "I'd only ever want you."
"'Date of birth', uh, unknown. 'Place of birth'…er…unknown." Marcella looked up from the form she was typing out and grimaced. "This is hard."
"Just fill out what you can."
"There's also a space here: 'colony of origin, 'identifying markings', 'color', 'design,' 'notice of removal/change' blah, blah, blah…" She looked up at him curiously. "Didn't realize marriage was also an opportunity for such a transformation."
"That's not necessary," Cas said quickly. "You're fine the way you are."
She paused, lifting a brow plate in his direction. "You're right, I'm already ravishingly beautiful, with markings no one else would stand a chance." She read off the next line. "'Name change'. Hm."
"That's also optional."
"Don't the lower tiers usually take the last names of their higher ranking partner?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "That's you, right?"
Cas hummed indignantly. "I'd never ask you to do that."
She rested an elbow on the table and gave him a long look through hooded eyes. "I've told you before it's not my real name."
"I know, but you said someone gave it to you–"
"She wasn't family," Marcella said tersely. "She just took me in. Like a mentor."
"But was she important to you?"
Marcella paused, mandibles clicking in thought. "Our relationship was…complicated."
Cas shot her a look. "...I see."
"Oh - no, no, she was more like a mother to me. Her daughter though..." Marcella's mandibles flared in a wide grin "...Let's just say we had a falling out after that." She drummed her fingers nonchalantly on the table. "So, if I were to, say, fill in this little part right here, then legally my name would be…?"
He swallowed audibly. "If it's what you want then…"
Marcella suddenly straightened up. She sauntered to the end of the room in an exaggerated motion, her mandibles tightened in a haughty expression. She turned with a flourish. "Um, excuse me, do you know who I am?" She looked down her nose at him as though he was some lowly peasant. "I am Marcella Vakarian."
Castis stared at the ground, arms crossed, neck flushed. "...It suits you," he said simply. But his subvocals were thrumming so loud she thought the room might start vibrating. He had never sounded so pleased.
She continued pretending to admire her talons in a snooty manner. "So, what are the ceremonies usually like?"
"It depends. There are traditions depending on rank, family, citizenship, colony origin..."
Marcella's brow plates rose but she didn't look up from her hands. "...Ah."
Cas shifted gears immediately. "But that's not required or anything of course – what would you like to do?"
She hesitated, chewing her tongue thoughtfully. "It's silly but…I saw this one vid where these asari were getting married in a lake. Like, standing waist-high in the water, naked except for some ceremonial headwear, with these white flowers floating in the water around them. Very intimate. It was…nice. I always thought the idea of having a big ceremony about bonding to be…a lot. But I liked this. It was just them, the sky, and the water. It always stuck with me."
She watched Cas bring a hand to his chin and stare out somewhere past her. "Hmm..."
A bathtub was no real substitute for a lake of course, but with a few flowers and the right lighting, it looked relatively decent. He hadn't seen the vid but the way Marcella's eyes lit up when she saw the display revealed he hadn't done a half-bad job.
Sitting waist-high in a tub wasn't like any bonding ceremony he'd ever heard of but her happiness made it worth it. Castis ran his thumbs over the back of her hands. "...You're right. This is nice. So, what did they do afterward?"
"Well, they - er - consummated their union right after. Then back on the shore. Then in their house. And then a lot more asari and other aliens showed up and joined in." She chuckled and shook her head.
"Wait, what?"
"It was pretty wild, I don't even know why I downloaded it. I guess it was more out of a morbid curiously–" her mouth snapped shut as she noted the look on Cas's face. "...But the lake scene was sooo romantic!"
His mandibles clamped to the sides of his face. "...Our wedding is from an erotic alien vid?!"
Marcella chuckled sheepishly. "…Heh…"
—Day 459—
"I think you should go for it."
Castis sighed. He rested his untouched drink on the table next to the old wooden chair he was slumped in. The balcony garden was in full swing, he could barely make out the railing with the amount of leaves that spilled from their lights of Cipritine twinkled in the distance thankfully overpowering the lights in the night sky "...No, no. I have important work here."
"What?" Marcella rumbled in annoyance. "Cleaning graffiti? Writing parking tickets? Helping old ladies cross the street? You're kidding, right?"
"Those things add up, it's not about playing hero all the time."
"But this is the Citadel - the Citadel - Cosmic Wonder of the Galaxy–"
"Pretty sure they don't call it that."
"-and you, keeping it safe."
Castis tightened his jaw. She had a point. Working for Citadel security. Bringing justice to the heart of the galaxy. Order. The experience it would provide. The difference it would make. The people he could help. It did sound nice. But…"What about you?"
Marcella avoided his gaze, opting instead to stare at the tiny bubbles collecting on the side of her drink. "...What about me?"
"Would you come with me?"
Her talons clinked against the glass. "I could..."
Castis gave an incredulous look. "You hate space."
"...Someone has to water my plants," Marcella said sheepishly.
"Then what would we do?"
She merely shrugged. "You'd visit here, I'd visit there…there'd be holidays…vacations…"
He pinched his nose plates with his fingers. "I don't know–"
"Look. You're doing this. You put your life on hold for me before, I'm not letting you do it again."
Castis felt his stomach twist unpleasantly. "I did not."
"Go. I ruined your life once already."
He shook his head. "You are my life."
For a moment they both just sat staring out at the city. Only the wind rustling through the leaves broke the silence. His fingers scratched at the old wood of the armrest.
"Do you remember that conversation we had the other day?" Marcella said finally. "About the spirits?"
"I do…"
"And you said you didn't believe in them or fate or destiny or anything like that?"
He had a feeling he knew where she was going with this. "Yes..."
"And yet your favorite vids are historical accounts about sacrifice and the greater good and fulfilling your true purpose?"
"Yes, I know."
"So, if you died tomorrow without utilizing any of your training, your abilities, or your desire to help people you don't believe your spirit will just deteriorate instead of joining with the spirit of justice itself–"
"I know you're messing with me."
"-you wanna take that chance?"
"I find the concept of non-existence both terrifying and...relieving," Castis admitted. "If you think we join with the spirits, then that's fine by me."
"Actually, that's not quite what I believe." Marcella paused, swirling her drink. "..Do you think the universe just goes in a circle? Repeating over and over again? Sometimes I have dreams that I've done this all before."
"Sounds more like a nightmare."
"Would it really be that bad? Doing it all again?"
"No...I suppose not." Castis chanced a look in her direction. She was staring right at him, mandibles flicking playfully and eyes narrowed. He sank lower into his chair. "...Fine. I'll apply. But it might not happen."
"Oh, it will." She downed the rest of her drink in one swig and tossed her glass carelessly behind her. She got up and crossed over to him, placing her hands on the armrests and putting her knee on the side of his leg.
"Hey, careful, the chair…" Castis protested.
Marcella continued climbing on top of him. "Yeah, yeah…"
"I mean it - it's old - it's gonna break."
"It's not gonna break–"
SNAP
Bits of the chair scattered in every direction as they both crumpled to the floor. Castis bit his tongue to not let out a yelp.
"...Oops." Marcella winced as she sat up on her knees, her hands on either side of his head. "Are you okay?"
The pain in his old back injury was excruciating. It had never truly healed after the incident at Audax. But he would never tell her that as long as he lived. "Yup," he grunted. "Good."
She leaned down carefully, pressing her forehead to his. "Go to the Citadel." She whispered. "You already promised you would show me around."
Castis couldn't help but huff a small laugh. He wrapped his arms around her waist. She was right. And maybe he wouldn't be hired, or maybe he would. If Marcella was right they could just do it all over again in the next life. The future seemed so bright he thought for a wild second that someday they would count all the stars in the sky..