fandomweekly | [#300] Ceremony (Wayfarers Series)

Theme Prompt: #300 – Ceremony
Title: The Only Sensible Conclusion
Fandom: Wayfarers Series
Rating/Warnings: G
Bonus: No
Word Count: 999
Notes: Set after The Galaxy, and the Ground Within

Officer Greschech, Roveg's escort, hadn't seemed pleased with the itinerary he'd submitted to her the night before. He could smell her irritation, adding to the thick haze of similarly-scented pheromones that had been hanging around her since they'd met at the Spaceport. She could have denied him, he knew, and probably would have if he hadn't explained--somewhat duplicitously, granted--that he'd made the request on the behalf of his boys, at which point she'd grudgingly agreed.

The boys' mother had chosen to stay behind, telling Roveg that it was important that he have this time with his sons, just the five of them (and, of course, Officer Greschech), before he left. She hadn't needed to say the subtext out loud: that there was no telling if or when he'd ever be back to see them again.

The boys had all been pleasant with Roveg throughout his visit, but there was an undeniable--and understandable--distance between them; he could hear it in the tone of the clicks emanating from the backs of their mouths as they spoke. He didn't really know what they thought of him--or if they thought much of him at all. So much time had lapsed since they'd seen each other, time in which they'd all been living separate lives and telling themselves different stories about each other. He was a veritable stranger to them, and the inescapable sight of his shell, scarred like all exiles' were, reminded them why he was a stranger: that he'd chosen his work, his beliefs, over them.

Of course, even if the boys had wanted to speak more freely with Roveg, Officer Greschech's looming presence made that a near impossibility. Roveg had exchanged what had felt like a few meaningful glances with Boreth, but nothing more than that. Roveg wanted to continue believing that Boreth understood and even admired what he'd done, but he knew that there was no way for him to say as much.

Truthfully, none of the boys said much to Roveg at all. During most of their outings, they'd mostly chattered amongst themselves or huddled over their scribs. As soon as they'd arrived at Wushengat, they'd wasted no time in scuttling down to the water toward some others their age, basking in the admiring gazes of the younger ones who ogled the fresh brands on their shells.

Roveg lowered himself down to the sand, but Officer Greschech remained standing beside him, her thoracic legs folded across her chest.

"Would you like to have a seat?" Roveg asked.

"No," the officer replied drily.

Roveg let a moment or two pass as the two stared into the distance. "Something to eat, then?" He opened the satchel he'd laid on the sand. He'd been totally unsuccessful in finding any non-Quelin food since arriving on Vemereng, and he wasn't especially excited about digging into any of the snacks he'd brought for the outing to the lake. But to his surprise, he could smell that Officer Greschech was.

"Thank you," she said, slowly bringing herself into a low squat and taking the small box he passed her.

He produced an insulated bottle from his bag, followed by a pair of cups. "Mek?" He had a feeling he was pushing his luck; not only was he probably not supposed to have mek in the first place, he definitely shouldn't be offering it to his escort. But this was his last day on the planet. What was the worst thing they could do to him at this point? And besides...Officer Greschech deserved a bit of relaxation after a week of putting up with him and his kids.

Her pheromones gave away her desire for the little indulgence even as she denied it. But when he unscrewed the bottle and poured himself a cup, her resistance seemed to melt away. "Just a sip," she said. "I'm on duty."

"Of course." Roveg filled a cup and passed it to her.

They sipped their mek in silence; Roveg's compound eyes followed each of his sons as they sauntered through the wet sand or splashed in the shallow water. At one point Roveg almost called out to Segred, who, predictably, was venturing out further than the others...but Roveg kept quiet. Segred wasn't a child anymore--none of them were. Their shells were hard now, and branded. They'd make their own decisions, each with consequences they'd have to face on their own, just as Roveg had.

"It was a beautiful ceremony," Officer Greschech said.

Roveg nodded. He felt he had no choice but to agree, although "beautiful" wasn't the word he would have used to describe the First Brand event. It had seemed so monumental, so transcendent, when he'd experienced it for himself, and now it just seemed like so much patriotic kitsch. It bothered him to think that his boys bought into it the way that he had, once. He wished he could say something to them to make them see it the way he did, but he knew he couldn't--not just because doing so was forbidden, but because he knew that his sons would have to figure these things out for themselves, somehow.

"I told someone once that this was my favorite place on Vemereng," Roveg went on after a long pause. The mek seemed to have loosened his tongue. "The kind of place that makes it possible to imagine that everything will be alright. My boys didn't really care about coming here. But I suppose I wanted to see if it still felt that way."

"Does it?" Officer Greschech asked.

Roveg considered the question, fiddling with the corner of the TEMPORARY TRAVEL PERMIT that was peeling off of his torso. "No. But everything will never be just one thing--alright or otherwise." Officer Greschech's spiracles flared, a silent scoff, but Roveg didn't care. He looked at his boys, wondering who they would grow up to be, what they would come to believe. "And that's alright."

It would have to be.