The journey itself, is freedom
by Ainzfern
7
Sitting opposite his Companion as the soft amber glow from the setting sun washed over them, Laron raised his glass and politely saluted, smiling with fond amusement when Esra mirrored the gesture back at him.
"So... your day?" he prompted and, even as he asked the question, he took a private internalized moment to simply enjoy the beauty of the young man seated before him. To his mild surprise however, even concern, Esra's face fell slightly. "You were right," he murmured rather ruefully as he set his wine down.
After a brief contemplative silence, Laron nodded slowly, understanding and empathy rising in him. "Ah," he grimaced sympathetically, "I see."
"Yes." Esra shrugged one sleek shoulder. "Well, you did warn me."
Laron sighed. "I know." He gentled his voice, reaching across the table to take Esra's hand in his. "I wish, however, that I had been wrong."
Esra smiled sadly. "You weren't."
"They were so cruel, then?"
"Sash was."
"Ah yes." Laron's eyes narrowed in recollection. "That does not surprise me at all, Esra." Carefully keeping any hint of anger from his tone, Laron stroked his thumb over and over across the back of Esra's hand, attempting in that caress to sooth and comfort him.
It was quite typical, Laron mused, that an Elite such as Kyle Li would have a cold and spiteful little Pet like Sash. Quite possibly, it was the very fact that Sash so carefully mimicked his master's nature that was the reason that Kyle had kept him for an unusually extended period of time. Still, Laron's outright refusal to pair Esra with such a spoilt creature had been no oversight. Even prior to the moment Laron had accepted the truth of his feelings for Esra, he had known that Kyle's admittedly beautiful Pet would not have been an appropriate choice for him.
"I am saddened to know it didn't go well," Laron squeezed Esra's hand once more, before releasing him and sitting back. "I know you had higher hopes." He frowned then, recalling Kalad's earlier words. "Actually, I was under the impression that you'd had a better day than that."
Esra's smile suddenly shone like a new dawn.
"Well," Esra's warm eyes sparkled with renewed mirth and delight, "it ended up being very good after I made some new friends." His grin grew even more amused. "You see, I got rescued from the group of Pets I'd tried to talk to."
"Rescued?"
"Yes," Esra briefly lifted his shoulders again. "In a manner of speaking."
Smiling bemusedly at him, Laron leaned forward a touch, intrigued. "By whom?"
"Two older Companions, actually," Esra told him almost airily and, to Laron's sharp eyes, the slighter man actually seemed to have acquired a vaguely wicked little look.
It rather suited him, Laron decided.
The Sapphire felt his full mouth curve up into a slow half-smile. Esra was evidently feeling playful, which was a delight in itself from Laron's point of view. Proof that, with every day that passed, the young ex-Pet grew more relaxed about his place, more confident in himself.
"Older, hmm?" Happy to play along, Laron picked up his wine glass and sat back in his chair. "Well, there is certainly a benefit to be had in the guidance of wisdom... and I am assuming that your new-found friends shared their names?"
Laughing softly, his smooth cheeks flushed with good humor, very aware that he was being teased, Esra nodded. "Riki and Katze, as a matter of fact."
Laron felt his eyes widen.
Obviously seeing the Elite's reaction, Esra's smile only widened even more. "I absolutely swear." He pressed one slender hand to his chest.
Recovering himself, Laron leaned forward once more. "Oh, I don't doubt you for a moment, dear-heart," he murmured, meeting Esra's eyes with a clear and affectionate gaze. "In fact, I feel compelled to comment on what a fortuitous encounter this was; meeting the mongrel Companions of Iason Mink and Raoul Am, no less. Formidable professionals in their own right, I understand, and mated to the two most powerful men on Amoi." His expression grew artfully bland as he winked at Esra. "Yes... I suppose there are worse associates to mix with."
Esra chuckled, clearly enjoying the levity. "They were very nice to me, Laron."
"As well they should be."
"I got to see Iason Mink's penthouse here in Eos Tower, too."
"Really." Amused and admittedly curious, Laron nodded encouragingly at his mate. "And? What was it like up there?"
"Beautiful." Esra's eyes glowed with memory. "It's a very big apartment. And the view from the balcony is amazing."
"Yes, it would be." Thoughtfully, Laron stroked his chin with the elegant fingers of one hand. "And will you be seeing your friends again soon?"
"Tomorrow, actually," Esra smiled up at Kalad as the Furniture brought the first course of their evening meal out to the table. "After my morning shift at the City Archives, Riki's asked me up to the apartment for a late lunch. Katze won't be there, though. He's generally working outside of Eos a lot of the time, I gather."
Laron nodded, quietly impressed by the fact of Esra's new acquaintanceship. Certainly, socializing with the mate of the Tanagura Syndicate's leader would do Esra no harm at all. A valuable friendship to have, Laron felt. And one that Esra could learn a lot from.
"I'm very pleased about this, Esra," Laron said softly, even as he acknowledged Kalad's service with a brief approving glance of his dark blue eyes.
Esra's smile lit the room.
"I believe that Riki will be a fascinating and valuable person to know," the Sapphire went on, picking up his fork and investigating his meal.
"I think so too." Esra took a bite of his food, his face smoothing out with appreciation at the taste. "It's funny," he continued, swallowing carefully before taking a sip of wine,. "They didn't act at all like I would have expected a mongrel to act."
"And what did you expect?"
Sighing softly, even looking a bit ashamed, Esra pushed his food around his plate for a moment. "Oh, I guess..." he grimaced a little, "bad-mannered, I suppose. Coarse. I mean, that's what I'd been told to expect by other Pets."
"But they weren't?"
"No," Esra met his eyes steadily. "They were really nice. And they're so clever and so confident about everything. They look at the world so differently from me, but in a good way."
"Oh?" Laron set his fork down, giving Esra his full attention. "How so?"
"Well," Esra wet his lips, considering it. "Like Sash. They helped me to understand what was driving his nasty behavior, his awful words. Until I had spoken to them about it, I never would have considered that Sash is more than jealous of me for being a Companion, he's scared of being abandoned by his master. He's frightened every day, and he can't handle it, so he lashes out."
Laron stared at his young mate, deeply impressed by his logic. "Such a realization takes a lot of the power of such behavior away, doesn't it?"
"It does," Esra agreed seriously. "And, looking back... Y'know, I have to wonder why I didn't think of it myself, because that's the way I used to feel a lot of the time before you asked me to be your Companion."
Esra's softly spoken words hit Laron with a sudden and painful jolt to the heart. The irony in this case was almost exquisite. Until this moment, he had never considered such things, either.
Swallowing hard, he reached out and gripped Esra's hand again.
Esra blinked, immediately looking alarmed, "Its okay, Laron, really." He smiled gently. "I mean, I knew that you loved me. Secretly, I knew that. What I didn't know was if you loved me as much as I loved you... if you loved me enough to keep me. Especially once Kati and Dahn were gone."
"Esra, I hope you'll believe me when I swear to you, Kati and Dahn – they were happy to go to Hepstra. They were ready to leave."
"Oh, I know," Esra nodded earnestly. "I know that." His expression became almost patient. "They told me that, Laron, before they left."
Huffing a rueful laugh, Laron rubbed at the back of his neck. "Ah... of course they would have."
"But, in the end," Esra turned his hand in Laron's grasp, linking his fingers through the Elite's, "in the end, you did love me enough. And everything turned out just fine."
Laron sighed softly. "Yes it did, didn't it?" He released Esra's hand and picked up his fork once more.
As they returned in earnest to their meal, Esra did not reply to Laron's question. But then, the Elite noted, he didn't really have to. The warmth reflecting from his dark eyes whenever he looked at the Sapphire spoke eloquently enough.
It was drawing close to midnight and, reclining elegantly on his plush sofa, draped in soft and sensual satin sleepwear and nursing a glass of fine wine in one long fingered hand, Tahna Lam drew in a deep breath and consciously relaxed his body, enjoying a moment of serenity after his long day.
He and his primary assistant at the Midas museum of history, Quinn, a name which - in Tahna's private opinion - was now practically a euphemism for 'nervous disorder', had completed an overseeing tour of every single art gallery and public museum within Tahna's department. Covering the entirety of Tanagura, the visits had been fast and efficient, with each gallery manager or museum curator swiftly herded into his office, presented with the new season's completed events schedule for the pending Tanagura Arts Festival, and given clear instructions to follow it to the letter or personally face the wrath of Tahna.
With a tiny self-satisfied smirk, Tahna sipped leisurely from his glass and quirked an amused brow.
Of course, he was willing to concede that such threats might not be the most politically correct method of ensuring success but, by God, they worked.
Fear, Tahna mused wickedly as he stretched like a sunning feline amidst the plush cushions scattered on sofa, was such an effective motivator. Take Quinn. The little man was proof positive of that theory... the most consistently efficient, and yet most consistently terrified, employee that Tahna had ever had.
To be totally honest though, both he and Quinn had enjoyed a passably satisfying day. Together they had achieved Tahna's goal to get all elements of the Syndicate's department of Arts and Antiquities singing off the same hymn book, which had pleased Tahna to no end, resulting in a noticeable reduction in casual sniping from the Elite in Quinn's direction. Plus, and Tahna was almost certain he had not been imagining things, but he was sure he had actually seen tears of genuine relief fill Quinn's eyes when Tahna happened to offhandedly mention that Chey Neeson had visited with him over the last couple of days.
Tahna pursed his rich mouth into a thoughtful little pout as he considered that last thought.
In all honesty, the question begged to be asked – did a visit from Chey have that much of an effect on Tahna's mood?
Obviously Quinn thought so.
Although, Tahna had to admit, he did feel within himself a certain lessening of tension, a release of the restlessness that had gripped him so in the days prior to Chey's visit. And, although he had still absolutely despised having to say farewell to his lover yet again, he couldn't deny that the recent time he had spent in the man's exclusive company had done him a world of good.
And the series of spine shattering orgasms he'd enjoyed hadn't hurt him either, just in passing.
His smile dimmed a little as he continued to consider Chey Neeson. It would be another few weeks before he got any real opportunity to see the wretched creature again. Tahna vented an indelicate huff of disgust. It really was just his luck to take a lover who just so happened to reside and work in another interstellar territory altogether.
And, yes, Tahna was well aware of the solution to the 'problem'.
Shaking his head disdainfully, Tahna snorted softly at his own foolishness. Good grief, he was even starting to argue with himself over the whole 'bonding' issue.
A soft trilling tone from his communication unit broke the silence, pulling Tahna's attention away from his personal ponderings. With his normally smooth brow creasing into a tiny frown, Tahna noted that the call tone was indicating his department's diverted call-number rather than his personal line, so he knew the caller would not be Chey.
Pushing aside the small surge of disappointment he felt at the thought, Tahna twisted around and leaned, stretching one long and elegant arm out towards the nearest control panel set into the low table beside the sofa, tapping the key to open the incoming call line and put it onto his apartment's speaker system.
"This is Tahna Lam," he spoke clearly and precisely in greeting as he set his wine glass carefully down on the edge of the table. "And the hour is quite late, so whoever this is... you had better have a good reason for calling me."
"And a good evening to you, too, your Royal Majesty," a familiar female voice replied sardonically without the slightest trace of remorse or concern. "Still charming the pants off everyone in the known universe, I see."
Tahna blinked in surprise, before a slow grin of genuine amusement curved his lips. "My goodness," he literally purred back in reply, "if it isn't Charlie Whitmore, quite clearly desperate to hear my voice once more."
"Hah!" Charlie's reply echoed through Tahna's living area. "You only wish, you conceited lump of overpaid arrogance."
Tahna snorted gracelessly and picked up his wine once more. "You forgot 'narcissistic', you disgraceful example of poor breeding," he replied almost clinically.
"I know," Charlie shot back dryly. "I was saving it up for later."
Tahna chuckled softly. "So, now that the pleasantries are all taken care of," he propped a few cushions under his shoulders and settled into a comfortable corner of his sofa, "to what do I owe the rather dubious honor of this call?"
All insults aside, he rather liked Charlotte Whitmore. She was a no-nonsense kind of woman. Late sixties, but with the wiry energy and resilience of a twenty year old, the tall and raw-boned senior archaeologist and historian from Elldaren Prime's university had been the only character large enough to meet Tahna Lam in the field as an equal. They had enjoyed a rather successful professional relationship during the New Vincentia excavation and the precise process of restoration, preservation and cataloguing that had followed it. Of course 'successful', naturally meaning in Tahna's book that Charlie Whitmore had a big enough set of brass balls to stand up to him and match him insult for insult.
Not unlike Chey, really, which probably explained why he actually got along with her.
As for her staff... well, as a rule, they had displayed an irritating tendency to burst into tears at the slightest provocation, which was terribly boring when one was hoping for a decent argument to break the mind-numbing monotony of the standard dig-site.
"The university on Elldaren Prime is adding the ancient history and antiquities of New-Vincentia to its curriculum list," Charlie got straight to the point, as usual. "Initially, whoever heads the new department will be lecturing across the federation and Amoi territories on the find and the civilization that created it. However, the role is also going to entail heading up a supplementary department at the university to develop and facilitate a post-graduate course. It's a huge project." Charlie's voice belied her own excitement with the news. "Massive exposure for whoever gets the department leader role."
Tahna nodded to himself, the idea sounding quite appealing to him. "I see." He drained the last sip of his wine and set his glass down once more. "And you want to call me in to consult with the new department head?"
"No," Charlie's reply was firm. "We want you to be the new department head."
Tahna grew very still for a moment, his eyes widening in genuine interest and a not inconsiderable amount of internalized excitement as the full import of Charlie's words registered on him.
"You are quite serious?" he asked eventually, rising to his feet and snagging his empty wine glass as he headed into his kitchen for a refill. "Exactly what makes you think I would even be interested?"
Tahna had to smirk as he awaited Charlie's reply. Of course he was interested. He'd have to be dead not to be interested. But he wanted Charlie to sell it to him; because if there was one thing that everyone who knew him should be aware of, it was the fact that Sir Tahna Lam of Amoi was never easy.
Worth it. Just not easy.
Charlie's tone was sardonic as her voice filled Tahna's apartment once more. "Did you miss the key word back there, Tahna?" she asked pointedly. "I said exposure... for you, and for the Amoian department that you founded and made so successful... and for the brilliant curriculum that you are going to write for my university. You'll be the glittering darling of the educational sect," her voice literally throbbed with amusement. "You can't tell me that the notion doesn't excite the living hell out of you."
Topping up his wine glass, Tahna tilted his blonde head and regarded the far wall of his apartment with thoughtfully narrowed eyes. "Maybe," he vented a soft sigh and leaned his elbows on the marble topped bench in his kitchen. "And, do tell me, what pathetically outdated and conservative manner of remunerative packaging is your university willing to dangle in front of me?"
Charlie snorted. "Oh, we've grown up a bit since I last worked with you... and I still remember what pushes your perfectionistic little buttons."
"Careful," Tahna murmured, a wicked lilt to his velvet voice. "People might start thinking you actually became fond of me."
"God forbid," Charlie said dryly. "Your remuneration would be generous. Naturally. It'll be a senior department managerial level with the full component being deposited directly to the general expenses fund of your Amoian department of Arts and Antiquities."
"What, not a penny for me?"
"Hah!" Charlie voice dripped with artful disdain. "You're an Amoian Elite. You've probably got cash falling out of your shapely little backside."
Tahna sniffed delicately at her turn of phrase. "How colorful."
"We'd look after you well, Tahna," she assured him with heavily laden patience. "You wouldn't be sleeping in parks or eating out of garbage cans..." Tahna almost heard her smirk. "Unless you wanted to."
Straightening up to lean his rump against the bench, Tahna stared into his glass, his beautiful violet eyes wide and unblinking, filled with thought. The offer was tempting, that much was true. Very tempting, if Tahna were to be honest about it. But it was the logistics that gave Tahna pause. Inexplicably, his mind focused on Chey's continuing campaign to see them bonded under federation law, an offer that was also undeniably enticing, but once again, hindered by the logistics of such a fundamental upheaval.
Oh course, the Elite's full mouth pursed into a delicate little moue of consideration, Charlie's offer might just furnish Tahna with an opportunity to effectively kill two birds with one stone. Chey wanted him to reside at least part of the year in federation territory on Chey's home base of Elldaren Prime... Tahna was hedging on the permanency issue. If he were to accept Charlie's proposal, however, he would be residing on Elldaren Prime anyway, but in a properly professional capacity and at the university's expense.
He could effectively wade into the shallow waters first. Tahna could try the whole thing out for size – so to speak - all the while having the undeniable comfort of knowing that he had a completely legitimate reason to be there anyway. Because, of course, the last thing he wanted was Chey Neeson's ego literally exploding from thinking that Tahna had uprooted his comfortable existence in Tanagura solely because of him.
The wretched man was difficult enough to handle without that.
Yes... yes it really could work. Tahna drew in a deep breath, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. Once again, it was only logistics that would hinder him. And, once again, they were considerable.
"Charlie," he said at length. "I have to confess it's a very appealing offer, but—"
"For God's sake, man, don't say no," Charlie instantly leapt in, her tone suddenly deadly serious. "Ask for time to think about it... but don't just say no. This secondment would be very good for you, Tahna, personally and professionally. Your thoroughness, the detail and quality of your work on the New Vincentia site has already preceded you into some of the furthest corners of the federation government's tertiary education network. And your original publications, your lecture works and papers on the Ephedrian civilization have gained popularity again because of that. The university board wants you. Do you understand? Just you. And they are willing to pay through the nose to get you. Your department on Amoi could well end up being better funded from this in one single year than in the last decade of Syndicate budget allocations."
"I believe I've said this to you before, Charlie," Tahna replied softly, all traces of levity leaving his voice. "You drive a very hard bargain."
"Will you think about it, Tahna?" Charlie asked him quietly.
Tahna sighed, releasing his breath with a slow deep exhalation, closing his eyes and nodding to himself, knowing the answer even before he spoke it aloud. "Yes Charlotte," he told her in an oddly formal tone of voice. "I will think about it."
"Good." In her voice, Tahna heard Charlie's relief in the way her usual satirical manner neatly snapped back into place. "You've got a week's grace, your Royal Majesty. After that, I'll be pestering the hell out of you until you say yes."
Tahna snorted softly in amusement. "Charming to the last, I see."
"I have to sign off at this point," Charlie replied.
"Thank goodness for small mercies."
"Funny," Charlie shot back blandly. "Take care. I'll contact you next week."
With that, she was gone, cutting the call without further word. Huffing another somewhat disconsolate sigh, Tahna padded on silent feet back to his plush sofa, draping himself across it once more, before gazing out through the floor to ceiling windows of his apartment with luminous eyes at the beautiful moons of his home planet.
For a long, long moment he was almost eerily still, an exquisite gold and alabaster statue in the soft moonlight, his formidable mind replaying the conversation he had just had, the options available to him, the choices he would have to make, the reasons for and against. The difficult questions... like what would he do with Elle and Tei? How would he ensure that they would be safe and secure without him? And there was Karu to consider there, too. Would he take his Furniture with him or leave him on Amoi to care for his little Pets? Who would replace him as head of his department? Who could he trust to oversee the entire structure and still run the Midas museum of history - his personal favorite of all the sections in his portfolio – with the same care and attention to detail that he would? Would his replacement look after his retinue of Elite and civilian staff properly? Would they terrify Quinn correctly? What would he do with his homes in Apathia? or his Eos apartment, for that matter?
All the same logistics, ironically enough, that had occurred to him the first time Chey had seriously broached the whole 'bonding' idea. Giving himself a sharp little shake, Tahna brought himself back to reality. It was all too much. He needed help on this one.
Venting a disgusted little sound from low in his throat, Tahna leaned towards the control panel beside the sofa, keying in a number from memory. As the line opened and beautifully deep and quite familiar voice answered, he felt – to his utter dismay – that much of the tension in his muscles began to dissipate just upon hearing that very sound.
"Chey?" Tahna raised his glass and took a long sip of wine. "Blondie?" Chey immediately sounded a touch concerned, "I wasn't expecting a call from you tonight. What's up?"
"I just got a call from Charlie Whitmore."
"You did?"
"Yes." Tahna heaved a great sigh and rolled his beautiful eyes ceiling-wards. "And I can't believe that I'm actually about to do this, but... Chey? Dear?"
"Yes, love?"
Tahna pulled a frustrated little face out the window at the night. "I need your advice," he muttered sourly, disgust dripping off every word.
He just knew he was never going to live this down.
The journey itself... – chapter 6 << >> The journey itself... – chapter 8