Requiem for a Monster

[Treznor]

When Ben started his speech Marcus gestured to the servant closest behind the bar -- Marcia, his memory told him -- for a single shot of scotch whiskey, neat. It was the traditional drink of his father, and he would not drink a proper toast to the man with juice.

He raised his glass beside Henry, Sarah and Nathaniel, then tossed back the shot and closed his eyes as he swallowed it. If, perhaps, a tear gathered in the corner of his eye it could be excused from the burn.

He frowned slightly at Henry's quiet observation and opened his eyes. "We'll see, Henry. We'll see."

----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Ben smiled sadly at Nathicana. He rarely had the chance for a face to face encounter with the Dread Lady. Although he was perfectly aware of her relationship with the electronic intelligence S.H.O.D.A.N. and what that demi-goddess had done for her, he was always surprised at how positively young she looked. She was older than him, but looked half his age.

"Thank you, Imperatrice," he replied after a short, respectful bow. "I didn't know him as long as you did, but I know how far he was willing to go for you. He made sure that I'd be looked after as well. There will never be another like him.

"Marcus will prosper; you and Devon made sure of that. I'll always be there to advise him, but eventually he'll need someone younger and more vital to take my place. There's no rush. The Empire is in good hands."

The doors to the ballroom opened wide, a full minute after he knocked as he'd arranged. The palace staff stood ready to seat and serve at their guests' convenience.

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Nathicana - Ben

It was good enough. It had to be. Nathicana nodded briefly at Ben's response, her eyes tightening as she read the emotions playing across his face. If he were acting, he was doing a damn fine job of it.

Not that she could ask. Not with people watching. His people, her people, their children, the other guests. Goddamn the lot of them. But mostly him, for putting them all through this.

"I told him not to go," she said, half to herself, half to Ben, as she looked past into the dining room. There wasn't a damn room she was familiar with in this entire place that didn't hold some memory or other. She remembered one time, she’d chased him in here after another argument over something she’d long since dismissed, and they'd ...

Shaking her head as if to clear those images away, she looked back at the man her husband had trusted as she had come to trust Calabrese. Their seconds. Their supports. Their secret-keepers and co-conspirators. "He was mad, I was mad, and you know how he was. He wouldn't listen. And I ... I didn't stop him. Vaffancculo, Ben - why didn't I stop him?"

Nathicana didn’t expect an answer. There wasn’t one to be given in any case. And if Devon hadn’t trusted Ben with some grand scheme to let the accolades and commiserations reach a fevered pitch before stepping out to the great relief of all, well …

She laid a hand lightly on Ben’s shoulder, not saying anything further as she made her way into the dining room. She took a seat part way down the table, close enough to the head for conversation, but not wanting to overshadow her son. A brief signal was made for a fresh glass that she sat looking into quietly as the others filtered in.

----- ----- -----

Cesare had been keeping an eye on the Imperatrice, as had her security chief, Angelus Massetti. Nothing terribly out of the ordinary had been noted thus far, save for the woman's choice in beverages. She had a fairly deep capacity for the stuff in any case, though he wasn't quite sure where those eventual limitations lay. Thus far, one couldn't say she was drunk. Affected, perhaps. But not debilitated.

The exchange with Mr. Vitner had him concerned. He wasn't sure what had been said, but he hadn't missed the looks she'd given the man. She was looking for something. Confirmation, some manner of hope? It was all part of the grieving process, of course. Denial prior to eventual acceptance. But Nathicana was not one to act 'as one should' in many circumstances. Even those who knew her best couldn't always predict what she might do. It made for a nervous working arrangement, to say the least.

A brief confirmation with Massetti over Spook, and he also made his way into the dining room, taking a seat to Nathi's right, away from the head of the table. When she didn't immediately respond, he quietly cleared his throat, then leaned in slightly to speak in a low tone.

"Is there anything I can get you, Nathi?"

"Che? No, grazie - sto bene," she replied, lapsing back as she often did to their native language.

Cesare simply nodded, gently swirling the wine in his glass before taking a slow sip, watching as others took their seats. "Marcus seems to be holding up fairly well. He's been an excellent host, even with everything he's carrying. You should be proud."

"Of course I am." The confirmation was delivered without heat, though he noticed she finally took a drink from the glass she'd been looking at when he joined her.

"And I see there's been no trouble with Naiya," he observed, his glance straying in the young woman's direction. "Good, good."

“As if the bastard were here to object,” Nathicana said curtly, finally looking over at him.

“Mi dispiace - not what I was meaning, but point taken.”

“I don’t expect any problems. Whatever issues he had ought to have … Marcus is in charge now. And he’d no sooner raise a hand against his sister than she would him.”

“Of course,” Calabrese said, nodding once. Now wasn’t really the time to bring up potential complications, but then again, they had been here for some time, and there had been no indication of trouble. Perhaps that would be enough. “Please, Nathi. Don’t push yourself further than you have to, yes? You’re surrounded by friends here. You’ve nothing you need to prove.”

The diminutive woman offered him a flat look, tossing back more of the scotch than was entirely appropriate. “I think I have things well in hand, thank you Cesare. Perhaps I will be allowed to eat in relative peace without you cutting my meat for me or making sure the vegetables have all been ordered by color on my plate?”

“Si, si, capisco,” he answered wryly, gently waving off any further protestations. So she hadn’t lost all sense of herself in those brief periods of quiet contemplation. Fair enough. He settled back in his chair then, taking another slow sip of his wine, while she turned her attention to observing the crowd again, as opposed to her glass, making mental notes of this person or that for later reflection.

[Chrinthanium]

Not wishing to seem disrespectful to Henry and Sarah, Nathaniel waited to respond to their comments after the toast had been made. Nathaniel, like the others gathered, followed suit. It was at that moment that his own father's wake came screaming back into his memory. It was probably one of the hardest days in his life. Here he was, one week he was a son with a father, the next, he was a man without a father. It wasn't that Nathaniel ever got over it, he didn't believe you ever got over someone's death, but he had finally let the emotions work their way out. Everyone in their own way was the phrase around the Imperial Palace in those first few weeks.

He then turned his attention back to Henry and Sarah, "I have to admit that serving in the army is the best experience. Just the other day I received a letter from a few of my army buddies wanting to reunite. So, I figured we should have an informal dinner at the palace. There's few friends closer than those you serve with. God how I miss those days."

"Now, it's all finger sandwiches while politicians drone on endlessly about pedestrian things hoping to achieve Imperial Ascent. Back then, I knew who my friends were. Now, people just want to get close to you because of the position and the power. Back then, I could simply pop off on leave and at least have the facade of a quiet drink with a few buddies. Now, I can't even walk out the front door without a security detail briefing me on potential dangers. I tell ya, those are the things that make me wonder why so many romanticize these positions of power. In reality, it's almost like being held prisoner." Nathaniel caught himself at that moment as he began to realize he was ranting.

"Marcus and I were having a philosophical discussion about power. Or, more specifically, how we have evolved our government over the last 50 years," Nathaniel commented as he took a sip of his drink. "I get a sense that idealism isn't dead in the modern age."

[Midlonia]

“How about we continue this over the dinner?” Sarah said with a nod before beckoning the children to them.

“I find idealism tempered by realism a better way forward, I tend to try and focus my idealism through my charities, and the realism through my more royal engagements. The Greater Kingdom has been a democracy since the late 1600s, so advancements are not as necessary. Indeed my idealism actually brought one government down and nearly threatened the whole democratic process.”

“For the right reasons.” Sarah added with a slight smile. “Voter fraud is a serious thing, Henry. Don’t downplay that.”

“True, true...” Henry said with a slight nod. “It’s why I set up the People to Power charity, it picks people from poorer backgrounds and encourages them into politics. Politically neutral, of course.”

Henry paused slightly looking at the banquet hall. “Wow.” He murmured. “So, do we find our place cards?”

[Treznor]

Marcus leads the way into the room, walking to the head of the table and pulling out the chair. Then he gestures to Naiya and offers it to her. "Sister, dear. Come sit. I don't want any formality tonight, so please take your seats wherever you're comfortable. Ben, you too. You're as much a part of this family as the rest of us."

Ben has the grace to blush as he's called out, but does as he's told and picks a seat near the opposite end of the table but close enough to be within easy range if Marcus wants to address him farther.

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Naiya

It was as good a time as any, taking advantage of the lull in conversation and the introduction of the dinner. Naiya quietly checked in with Aeturnus and DeSanti, making her way to the dining room with the others.

Her intention to remain largely in the background was of course undone by her brother’s well-meaning solicitations. It wouldn’t do to make a scene here of course, so she graciously accepted his offer and took the offered seat with a smile, a softly-spoken word of thanks – and a brief look that spoke volumes between the two of them, that she was fairly certain no one else would catch.

Twinspeak. It had its benefits. So did subtle efforts at ‘revenge’.

“Nicholas,” she called out, just loud enough not to be impolite, while waving gently at her not-quite-step-brother. “Why don’t you join us? We never did have an opportunity to finish our conversation.”

She settled comfortably into her chair, noting that her mother was feeling increasingly harried. Naiya had always been able to read her mother’s moods, even before things had changed. She’d known this would be a challenge for her. And those familiar enough with the woman were probably none too surprised at the anger boiling underneath the surface. Possibly. It was hard to tell with some people.

Cesare was as guarded as ever – again, not surprising all things considered. There were those in attendance he had reason to be careful around, considering events now long in the past, but perhaps not far enough to the memory of some. Not everyone had been pleased that Nathicana had chosen to keep him on. Devon had been one of them, she understood. Dominion politics made for strange bed partners. That thought brought a wry smile, as she requested a glass of ice water for herself, wanting something neutral to accompany dinner.

Ben now, she was especially careful in avoiding any subtle contact that would be considered ‘out of the ordinary’. He’d been the Emperor’s first for ages, had known most if not all of his secrets. And she had no idea what his personal take was on her being there, let alone, having the nerve to be there alive, when Devon wasn’t. He’d been close to her brother, of course. And she was glad of that … still. She was taking no chances. Her brief contact with the man already had her senses tweaking to that inherent sense of ‘otherness’ she’d come to recognize in certain gifted people. Out of everyone there, he was likely the most dangerous. At least, to her.

Ah well. So far, everyone had behaved well enough, and she didn’t expect it would be any different, at least so long as the wake lasted. Certainly not in Imperial territory, and not in the palace at least. Hopefully not at all. It would only complicate things further.

Another arrival caught her attention, and she glanced over at the pair in surprise. Speaking of complications …

----- ----- -----

Six Feet of Dirt Makes Us All Equals

The two impeccably-dressed gentleman made their way through the group of people as easily as anyone. Both wore black; the elder, having chosen a black silk shirt and tie, diamond cufflinks and a tie pin being the only accent aside from the thick wedding band on his hand, while the younger had chosen a dark maroon shirt, black vest and tie, with no visible accessories save the gold chain that lead to his vest pocket.

Lucano Genovese had been a young man when the Imperatrice officially took the throne, so to speak. He’d been in attendance at her coronation, and pleasantries had been exchanged, agreements had been renewed, and aside from youthful bristling in school between his son and hers – now Emperor in his own right – there had been decidedly little trouble.

She and her children had attended the funeral of his father, and it had not been forgotten. It was the least they could do to offer their own condolences to them here.

To most, he was known as CEO and controlling factor in Genovese Securities – a well-known, and well-funded business in the Dominion, always looking to expand. To another quiet group, he was also known as the Devras Capo Crimini, head of La Famiglias there, and the unspoken power behind organized crime in the area.

His black hair had begun to gray, true, but he’d aged with grace thus far, and hoped the trend would continue. At his side, his son Leonardo, was quiet and watchful, deferring to his father as appropriate to the situation.

They had arrived late for a number of reasons, one being that of tradition concerning business, the other wanting to offer the more lofty attendees their opportunity to speak with the young heir. And hopefully, to approach him once some of the initial shock, and the reality of the situation had mellowed somewhat. Those first moments, they both recalled, tended to be somewhat raw with emotion.

Leonardo’s eyes came to rest on the young woman currently sitting at the head of the table. It had been ages since he’d seen her in person. To his eyes, she’d changed, and not just letting her hair color go back to its normal brown. He felt that familiar tug in his chest that she always seemed to elicit. It was neither the time, nor the place however. So when their eyes met, he simply offered a slight nod and the hint of a smile which was returned in like measure.

As agreed, father and son parted at that point, with Lucano first offering quiet condolences to the Imperatrice, which were well received, before he took a seat across from her, engaging in quiet conversation with her and the Chancellor. Leonardo chose a neutral seat, not wishing to press Marcus just yet, and wanting to observe the situation a bit more closely. He’d noticed Kana on their way through to the dining room, of course. It was interesting to see her here, but not entirely shocking, all things considered. Her interests did not run parallel to his own in any case, and she had made her overall opinion of him known back on Mars well enough. Should she choose to initiate conversation, he would of course be polite, but he had no intent of stirring up any drama at this gathering.

[Chrinthanium]

Henry, Sarah, and Nathaniel

Nathaniel nodded in agreement as they entered the dining room. "Certainly there's a reality that has to be mixed in with idealism. The reality of the current situation in which you operate, the reality of the the constraints of your position, and the reality that change isn't easy. My grandfather started the ball rolling, so to speak, then my father added to the change, and now I continue it."

As he entered the dining room and found his seat, he continued, "Of course, there has to be some sort of a balance between my own desires and what the people will accept and what is right."

Nathaniel waited until Sarah had been seated before he took his seat. "I have been taught that, in all things, honesty with the people is foremost among the change that was needed in Chrinthanium. The people are much more in tune with what's going on that most would believe."

[Sakkra]

The toast was made, and the Imperial Pairing hoisted their glasses up and observed the custom made at humanoid gatherings. "To Devon Treznor" was whiffed half out the nostrils. The contents of their goblets was sent downwards through the appropriate piping, and they observed the many heads of state entering into the banquet hall. Kraah eyeballed his escort, who gave a silent blink of the eye signifying the go-ahead. "Even tooth says Devon doesn't stay down for long."

The Emperor started a bit and gave Sszeera a surprised expression; spines at full attention and a quick chuff from his nostrils. "Dear! I am shocked. I thought such jests were beneath you?" The Empress gave him a coy look. "Now, Hubs. Just because we've been together these 175 years doesn't mean you know everything there is to know about me. Now what was that about knowing our gastronomic needs?"

Kraah seemed to crane his neck, looking out over the expansive room until he spied the obvious cue where his seating was. "Ah. See over towards the center on the far side of the table? Where the whole beef shanks are set with a half-keg of wine? I'd say that would be us."

[Treznor]

Late that night, long after the guests had been seen back to their shuttles or safely ensconced in overnight accommodations, Marcus invited Naiya to join him once again in the library. He deemed it sufficiently neutral territory, preferring not to treat with her from behind a desk as a superior to a subordinate. Their relationship had not and never would allow for that.

He paced the room as he waited for her, rehearsing his calm, rational arguments until he felt confident he could deliver them with aplomb. Of course, it all went out the window as soon as she arrived and closed the door behind her.

“Edward?” Marcus shouted. “You went and got pregnant with Edward-bloody-Althalon?”

“Oh for ...” Naiya threw up her hands and began stalking across the floor, muttering something in Dunnish. “Marcus, will you at least let me explain?”

Her brother turned to face her with folded arms and scowling countenance. “I’m all ears.”

“Not all, thankfully. You did grow into them after all,” she quipped, brows arching up and chin tilting in a fair approximation of their mother. He changed neither his posture nor his expression, so she blew out an exasperated sigh and moved on. “A lot has happened over the past several months, Marcus. It has not been a good time to discuss, given everything else you’ve had on your plate. But yes. You’re going to be an uncle. Twice over, in fact.”

“Why him, Naiya? I mean, I know you two were getting on well and he seemed a nice enough fellow, but the timing! Gods above and below, Arda’s on the top of everyone’s list for likely suspects in Papa’s death! Nobody knows how and officially we can’t accuse them of anything, but that doesn’t stop the rumors from flying. I had to pull back from negotiations to avoid public riots. That would have gone over so well in the first months of my reign.”

“I’m sorry. I really am. At the time, that wasn’t a factor,” she said calmly, choosing a chair and sitting down in it, resting a hand on each armrest. “There were other problems on the table, other concerns, and your father ...” Naiya paused and adjusted her tone to one more sensitive to her brother’s situation. “The Emperor was alive and well, Marcus. We didn’t know.

“I wasn’t even able to contact you at the time his shuttle went missing, and I’m sorry for that, Marcus,” she continued gently. “There is just so much more at stake here than I’d ever hoped would be for us.”

He finally relented enough to relax his posture. He paused for a moment, then went to the decanter in the corner and poured himself a stiff glass. “Okay. I’m listening. What’s going on?”

She frowned at the drink, but let it pass without comment. He’d been through enough, and she wouldn’t be making it any easier. “I made my choices, Marcus. I went with what I felt I had to do. What it was my responsibility to do. You know some of the talks about heritage and being unsure where it might lead? I know now. I suppose your father was right on one point at least. I chose to follow my father in order to do what’s necessary later.”

“The evil he feared? The threat? It isn’t me. It never was so far as I’m concerned. It’s Morgoth. And it’s going to take all we have to make sure everything our parents, our allies, our friends have worked for isn’t destroyed on account of him.”

Marcus continued to scowl. “We’re not on the front lines, Naiya. We’re not foot soldiers. It’s our job to direct the wars and manage our nations, not to grab a rifle and charge into the fray. If you think it’s your destiny to fight an evil god okay, but why this? Why get pregnant now?” He paused. “You didn’t just take up your father’s fight. You took up your father’s heritage. That’s what you meant. Oh gods. Naiya, you can’t tell anybody. If Ben’s people get wind of it...I need to call him right now.”

“Wait, Marcus,” Naiya said sharply, getting out of her seat and taking a step towards him. “Mama knows. Cesare knows, he was there. But please, wait. Not Ben. Not ... not now at least.”

“Naiya, my father has a file on you. The black files I told you about. They don’t need Imperial approval to be activated. If you meet certain criteria, they activate. This is probably the most dangerous place for you to be right now if you’ve...changed. I need to rescind those orders now. Before it’s too late.”

“Marcus, no one has made so much as a whisper of it these past several months. And Ben ... he was your father’s right hand man, yes? Is there a way you can clear those files without alerting him, or others? It’s your right now,” she asked more quietly, waiting to see how he responded.

He shook his head. “I can probably hack into them again, but I can’t make any changes without throwing up alerts. I can order all of those files to be put on hold until I can officially review them, but like you said, Zio Ben was Papa’s right hand. He’ll know I’m up to something, and it wouldn’t take him long to figure out what. What is it? Why don’t you want me to order him to stand down?”

“Trust is a hard thing outside of family. He’s been an uncle to you. I would hate for anything to happen to him if things went poorly,” Naiya said thoughtfully, her brow furrowed. “Marcus, this is why I did what I did with Edward. When I did. Before I changed. Do you understand? You have the Empire here. But Mama, the Dominion?”

He took a long drink of his scotch, mulling over the implications. “You had to produce an heir for the Dominion to accept it. You had to do it now because you learned you can’t wait to take on your father’s heritage, the fight is coming on too soon. Will you do it after the children are born?”

Naiya sat back down in the chair, finally letting some of her tiredness show. “The clock is ticking. But I have no confirmation on how long we have. I’ve already ‘changed’, Marcus. I’m still learning what all that entails, but yes. More or less, exactly as you said. Too much power, too much influence. The Dominion was not meant to be ruled by near immortals. Edward understood the problems. He agreed without any false pretenses. If we can manage to do what needs to be done, you’ll have family on three thrones, not just two. And perhaps we can put those old troubles finally aside.”

He shook his head. “It’s the Borgias and the Medicis all over again. But you’ve changed already? Gods, Naiya. How will you convince people that the children aren’t already tainted or godlike or whatever they want to think?” He shook his head ruefully again. “I never knew you were this competitive. You had to go cosmic just to get one over me.” He winked at her.

Naiya glanced about for something to throw at him for that, though she did manage a smile. “Genetics, of course, for one thing. And not giving anyone any cause to think otherwise for another. As you said, I can’t announce this. It would be best if I never did, but it will come to light at some point. It’s unavoidable. As are a number of other things ... such as meeting my security advisor you were so curious about earlier.”

He glanced at the door where they’d entered. “Yes, tell me about him. He’s more than just an advisor, isn’t he?”

“Much more,” she confirmed, though her smile broadened slightly. “He’s different too. I’d have never have met him had I not been in Arda when I was. Way back, that crash that had Mama so worried? You might say he was with the group that helped rescue us.”

“Shall I ask him in?” Naiya asked, not budging from her chair, and instead, taking another slow sip of her juice before setting it aside again.

Marcus nodded and rose from his chair. “I can have Lauren escort him in.”

“No need. Just ... don’t panic, ok? Have a seat.” She kept her eyes on her brother, knowing full well his capabilities that way, and sent out a quiet summons and a brief sitrep.

Aeturnus stepped forward quietly, having come in from the corner of Marcus’ eye, his uniform was the same as earlier, complete with the facial covering which only showed his silver eyes. “Yes, Naiya?” He said softly, arms folded behind his back.

Marcus hadn’t sat down, and he gave a small jump at the unexpected entrance. Only his sister’s cryptical warning kept him from a stronger reaction. “Gods! Don’t do that!”

“Sometimes the easiest way to explain is to show,” Naiya replied, getting to her feet, holding out a hand to each. “Marcus, I’d like you to meet Aeturnus. One time guardian spotter and nature sprite, now full time guardian, advisor ... and more.”

Marcus extended his hand to the former...sprite? “I’m pleased to meet you. I’m sorry I didn’t take more time to greet you earlier.”

“The apology is unnecessary, I am merely an advisor and bodyguard in public situations.” Aeturnus replied quietly as he shook Marcus’ hand, and then gently took hold of Naiya’s. She offered a slight squeeze in return.

“As I said, a lot has happened ... much has changed. But I think we’re past the biggest shocks, Marcus,” she said apologetically.

He winced. “I hope so. So...former nature sprite? It sounds like there’s a long story behind that, and I’m not nearly liquored up enough yet. Scotch?”

“Marcus,” Naiya said gently, frowning at the suggestion of more alcohol, on his part at least.

“No, thank you.” Aeturnus said quietly with a slight bow of his head. “If what you mention about these files is true, then I would rather remain sharp.”

Marcus’ brows shot up. “Telepathy?”

“Something like that,” Naiya answered, nodding in confirmation. “As I said, I’m a bit more concerned with what could happen with Ben and anyone sent in to ... take care of things than I am about being in danger. A bit egotistical on my part perhaps. Still.”

Marcus went to pour himself another double and took his seat again. He gestured for Aeturnus to do the same. “Papa devoted a lot of money to research ways to take down a Maia. I don’t know how successful that research has been; it’s not like we have any on hand to experiment on. I objected but I never had the authority to overrule him. And given the way the Empire works, it wouldn’t surprise me to see it continue as a black op after I close it down. But should I? Obviously you’re on the Light Side of the Force, but what about agents from the Dark Side?”

Naiya nodded and took her seat again, letting Aeturnus choose for himself what was most comfortable. “I honestly can’t say. Perhaps it’s a risk you ought to take, all things considered. Knowledge is a tool. It’s how we use it that makes the difference.”

Aeturnus took up a spot next to Naiya, he pulled his covering off of his face after he made himself comfortable and looked to her. “Such a method, harming you, now would be difficult, would it not?”

“That depends. This form does have its limitations. You know what happened when my father’s reached his,” Naiya said, to both of them. “I’m more concerned about any immediate issues. Marcus, you know your situation, your system best. I trust you, fratello mio. Do what you think is right.”

Marcus rubbed one side of his temple and groaned slightly. “My first official day on the job and I’m already thinking about retirement. Mama always blamed her headaches on men. Why is my headache from a woman?”

“It’s in the fine print, Marcus. Little sisters are always supposed to be a trial for their brothers,” she said, smiling softly.

He heaved a deep sigh before tossing back the rest of his drink. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do about that black file. I don’t presume to be more subtle than the master, but I might be able to keep him guessing. I’ll keep the research going as well, at least until we have more information on whether or not we’ll need it. It’ll need some strong oversight, and I’ve got some ideas on how to implement it. But for now there’s something important I need to get out of the way.”

He set his glass aside and leaned forward in his seat to face Aeturnus. “You realize, as her brother, that if you hurt my sister I’m going to put you in a world of hurt? Nature sprite or no?”

There was no amusement in Aeturnus eyes, just that piercing look, the moment where, as people said, ‘they measured your worth’. He blinked once and sat back. “I would never consider hurting her.” He said quietly. “I care for her very deeply. The children too.”

Marcus nodded, his face equally serious. “I’m going to hold you to your word on that. You’re probably not as familiar with our culture, but it’s a family thing. I have a duty to threaten your life in the event that you neglect her or make her cry. I’m sure that once I get to know you I’ll have no reason to follow through on that threat, but the threat is meant in deadly earnest. Do not hurt my sister. You will regret it. Do we have an understanding?”

A ghost of a smile played on Aeturnus lips and he simply nodded. “It won’t happen, but understand that I assisted some of the deadliest people the outback will ever know, and they are rather fond of me. I believe the phrase is ‘one good turn?’”

Marcus nodded. “It seems we understand each other.” He stood up and offered his hand. “Welcome to the family. And may the gods have mercy on your soul.”

Aeturnus nodded and shook the offered hand briefly. “Thank you.”

Naiya let out a quiet sigh of relief, looking at them both rather flatly in spite of the amicable outcome.

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

It had been a very moving, and overall appropriate evening, Cesare reflected. The man had done some amazing things in his lifetime, and in spite of his reputation for ruthlessness had been a very effective ruler. On many levels, he had a deep respect for the man.

Of course he had hated the bastard, but he doubted he was the only one.

For the past quarter century - it sounded so much more meaningful when he phrased it that way - Devon Treznor had been a constant reminder of his failure to take over the Dominion for himself. Nathicana, he could live with, to a point. There was a grudging understanding there that he also respected. They both knew where one another stood. With Devon, he hadn’t always been sure.

For one thing, the man had made it patently clear that should anything happen to the woman, his head would be decorating the Emperor’s trophy room wall soon after. Not the sort of end he had envisioned for himself. And with a woman like Nathicana, who tended to make enemies in interesting places, it had been in his best interests to keep things as smooth, peaceable, and safe for her, as well as himself.

It had been an additional complication that nagged at him. An itch he could never really scratch. Not effectively.

He’d had a right dog’s dinner to deal with, on account of several people having unwittingly being so insistent on complicating things. Just another day in Dominion politics one might argue, but the past few years had been more trying than usual.

The Ardans had always been a suspicious lot, and rightfully so. It had taken years to construct a workable relationship with them, and their re-emergence and the subsequent snafu their had made it doubly difficult. They’d been accommodating all the time he’d spent there in Daturias, though their hints and suggestions still made his shoulders itch. Nadia had continued to harp on the Emperor, but Konrad had seemed to have grown to rather like Devon, when all was said and done. Not that it would have stopped him from taking any actions he felt it necessary, of course. That at least was one thing the two nations had in common - perspective.

Naiya’s choices and changes had nearly given him a heart attack. It could have ruined everything, but the timing had worked in his favor, for once. Had she not survived, as they had feared, he would not doubt be planning for his own funerary arrangements instead of observing the passing of her mother’s husband. She had been busy since with her own plans and schemes, along with comforting (and disturbing) her distraught mother, and later, her brother.

Cesare’s lips twitched in a smile, and he reached for the glass of wine he’d poured for himself, taking a slow, appreciative sip after pausing to appreciate the bouquet. Nathicana wasn’t going to be as much of a problem at this point. Not his, in any case, which was all that mattered. On reflection, in some ways it might have been better to have had her meet an untimely demise on that ship as well, but time would tell on that point. It may have been a mercy, in hindsight. Naiya would have her hands full.

He liked the girl, of course. She’d always shown promise, had a firm belief in doing what was right for the empire overall, and unlike her more idealistic brother, understood that even the best of intentions couldn’t always be applied in the real world. She would have made an excellent Imperatrice, had the cards fallen out differently. As it stood, he was confident that between them, her sons would stand to do much the same so far as leadership. They would have to, if this were to work.

A knock on his door interrupted his pleasant reverie, and he set his glass aside, adjusting his expression to one more suited to a man who’d just come from the effective funeral of a head of state near and dear to their nation.

The door opened on his greeting, revealing Antonio Pellegrino, Dominion Minister of Intel. As always, he had an unreadable expression, though to Cesare, he seemed more withdrawn than usual.

“Good to see you Toni. It was a very nice gathering, all in all. I’m sure he would have approved.”

Pellegrino nodded slowly, taking a seat across from Cesare as the man gestured for his guest to make himself comfortable. The chancellor poured a second glass of wine, which was quietly accepted with a nod of thanks by the other man, and they both took a sip before continuing.

“It was very nice, yes,” Pellegrino agreed. “She and the children spared no expense. Ironic in some ways, but then, this is the Dominion and Marcus has held onto that.”

Calabrese nodded in acknowledgement. Naiya had been every inch the supportive daughter, though by now it was increasingly common knowledge she and Devon had never been close - an understatement of magnificent proportions, of course, but a simple enough fact for many to grasp. He hadn’t been her father after all, but to her mother, her brother, he was family. And her actions, her reactions through all of this, would no doubt be remembered, questioned, examined in minute detail. She had carried herself rather well. He almost believed those tears had been real.

“A tragedy,” he said aloud, shaking his head regretfully. “Those damnable drives of theirs. They never were as efficient as they ought to be, but they refused to invest in some of the advanced options available out there on any meaningful scale.”

“A tragedy,” Pellegrino agreed, nodding slowly. “If things had gone otherwise, we might have been mourning two leaders today.”

“I’d just been thinking that myself, Toni. God only knows how the children would have dealt with losing both their parents.”

“That would have been a very unpleasant turn of events,” the Intel Minister said thoughtfully, pausing to take another sip of his wine. “Still, they’re strong. They’ve been taught well, learned from some of the best - yourself included, chancellor.”

Cesare inclined his head in acknowledgment of the complement. “And yourself as well.”

“We’ve all tried to do our part.” Pellegrino paused again, thoughtfully examining his wine glass, gently swirling the contents. He didn’t look at the chancellor when he next spoke. Not until he’d finished. “So tell me, Cesare. How long did it take you to infiltrate the Treznor systems? That was a masterful piece of work. I haven’t pieced it all together, but I think I have enough.”

Calabrese looked up at the Minister sharply. His previously good mood, quietly hidden under his civil demeanor, evaporated between the first cold fingers of fear. “I have no idea what you’re referring to, Antonio. But you’re treading on very dangerous ground.”

“Oh, I believe my footing is stable enough in this case,” the other man said calmly, finally taking another slow drink, then setting the glass aside. “How long, Cesare? This must have taken years. After the reputation you’d made for yourself with that first coup, we’ve all been watching. But clearly, we haven’t been watching closely enough.”

The chancellor wasn’t about to admit anything, least of all to Pellegrino. The Intel Minister was a good twelve years his junior, and still had plenty of time and energy to make whatever remained of his life a living hell. His eyes narrowed, and he sat back in his chair, setting his own drink aside and folding his hands in front of him on his desk.

“Give me time, chancellor. Give me time. I don’t think exposing your treachery is in the best interest of the Imperatrice, or her children. So for now, I believe I’ll let you live. Let you continue your service, in fact. An interruption in the familiar now, on top of everything else, would unbalance her even further. And frankly, that’s the last thing we need. Besides, as she’d noted all those years ago, you are good material. You’ve done a lot of good for the nation, and unless I miss my guess, you’re comfortable and content right where you are. We shouldn’t be expecting any other ‘unfortunate’ mishaps, should we? My investigations hadn’t turned up anything …” Pellegrino gestured questioningly, letting the implications and questions hang uncomfortably between them.

“I don’t believe there is any danger to the heirs, or the Imperatrice that I am aware of,” Cesare answered carefully. “Nor to the heirs to come.”

“If true, that would be a very good thing, Cesare. A very good thing. You’ve got what, a good two, three decades more perhaps, to enjoy your life? Further, should you choose to avail yourself of some of the more interesting extension methods out there, though there are some who might be disinclined to offer you service in light of unfortunate developments. It would be a shame were the details to be made available to certain interested parties,” the Minister continued, fixing Calabrese with a steady look.

“It would be … difficult to gauge what their reactions might be. The past twenty years have been relatively peaceful. I think most would appreciate that trend continuing, with as little further tragedy as can be managed.”

“I would agree,” Cesare said stiffly, returning the look.

“We understand one another then?”

“Perfectly,” came the answer. Neither man’s expression changed. Neither made any sudden movements, watching one another for several slow moments as they silently weighed and measured.

“Excellent,” Pellegrino said, finally breaking the silence, and picking up his glass to drain it, standing in the process. “I look forward to working closely with you over the coming years, to help Naiya raise those boys, educate them in the running of a nation, and assist you in your new responsibilities of regent. Congratulations, chancellor. It may not be everything you wanted, but you did finally manage it in the end. I’ll watch for your suggestions on a new Minister of Finance. I think it’s time we let Don retire in peace, yes? Before we go over those books more closely?”

“You’ll have my recommendations by the end of the week,” Calabrese answered, smiling wryly. “I’m sure you’ll carefully vet each one of them.”

“No doubt, Cesare. No doubt. Have a pleasant evening - my regards to your lovely wife.”

“And mine to yours, Antonio.”

The Intel Minister left, a pleasant smile on his face. Cesare meanwhile, sat scowling at the now closed door.

[Sakkra]

Kraah and Sszeera opted to accept their hosts offer of hospitality, and checked out their 'digs'. "Vastly different from our housing on Sslaa V, isn't it?" Kraah looked about at the embellishments in the corners of the room; partly wondering if it was bugged and partly enjoying the artistry taken in making the sconces. Sszeera went to inspect the bath. "It is significantly drier here, yes. But it has a charm that can't be denied. The bath looks like it could fit us both, and there's a nice selection of oils scented and otherwise." The Empress picked up each bottle and inspected it for scent and viscosity.

Kraah, in the meantime, had taken to inspecting the bed itself. Circling around and pressing down on the mattress with a thoughtful hrrrrm here and there as if he was inspecting a used car, considering a sale. "What say we hit the downtown area next cycle? See what goods this place offers?" Sszeera began pouring unscented oils into the tub. "We should probably check with the host's staff to make sure it won't compromise security. Or cause a panic with the populace."

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Her bed always did seem more comfortable and welcoming when he was in it, she noted idly.

He’d surprised her this time, having made arrangements with her people to have this all set up as it was. The food, all things that could easily wait and serve to keep up their energy without losing their flavor. The wine - Delacourt, she noticed with an appreciative nod. The glistening pitcher of ice water.

And of course, himself, laying there in all his glory, beckoning her to join him with that crooked smile and utterly unrepentant attitude.

She offered him an arch look in return, taking her time crossing the room, idly letting one article of clothing slip to the floor after the other. She paused at the pitcher, delicately fishing out an ice cube, and slowly popping it into her mouth, her eyes never leaving his.

“Remember when we had to hurry because we were both on duty?” he asked casually, his eyes fixed on her as he took her in. “Jas would have skinned us alive if we’d ever been caught.”

“But we never were,” she said after removing the ice cube, and walking over to the bed. She lightly trailed it along his thigh. “Not officially anyway. I think he knew, but as we’d never made it a problem or let it get in the way of our jobs, he let it slide. Skins intact.”

He shuddered at her touch, as much from her fingers as the ice. “It figures the old man would know. Never missed anything, did he? Sometimes I miss those days. I couldn’t get enough of you. I still can’t. I’m a junkie, and you’re my pusher.”

She grinned at that, continuing to trace her way up along his stomach then chest with the ice. “He’s a sharp bastard. I kind of like the perks that come with being the one calling the shots though. Sometimes, in any case. Like now. I’d like to see just how ‘not enough’ we can get. Are you up for the challenge, boy?”

“Overall I have no complaints. I’m just saying sometimes.” He writhed as she sought out his most sensitive spots with the ice. “I’m at your service, as always. At least I have more stamina than I did back then.”

“Don’t think it isn’t appreciated. It would be a terrible shame if you weren’t able to keep up with me now and then,” she teased, following the line she’d made with the ice with her warm mouth momentarily.

He grunted as he struggled for control. Clearly, his body had other ideas. “I never can. You’re still too much woman for any ten men.”

“Now there’s an idea. Maybe Shodey could work up some copies of you and we could put that to the test?” She climbed up onto the bed, drawing her body alongside his, then gradually straddling him, hips shifting just enough to continue her drawn-out teasing, knowing all too well the effect it had on him, and feeling it just as obviously.

He snorted and reached up to touch her. “I’ll let you make that request. I don’t think I’d get away with it.” His hands followed well-traveled paths, the knowledge unconscious in its familiarity.

She shivered contentedly at his touch, her back arching, hands moving down to feel their way over his chest. “Probably not. I’m going to content myself with pushing your limits here tonight before asking my sister-in-mind for any upgrades or added features. You’ve managed to do one hell of a job holding my attention for this long, mi amore. I rather doubt that’s going to change any time soon.”

“It’s the only thing that matters. You’re the only thing that matters. Not power. Not wealth. Not fame. Just you. I’d burn it all to the ground for you.” He arched his back as she found one of her favorite places on his body, one that rendered him incoherent for a while.

It was a familiar sentiment, and one that never failed to elicit a surge of pleasure in her, along with everything else he was doing. Plenty of men claimed they would do anything for their woman. He was the only one she’d ever known to actually do it. And would again. She chose to show her appreciation in ways they both enjoyed. Motions that while familiar, had never grown old in her mind.

“I love you, Dev,” she managed breathlessly at one point. “Don’t you ever dare leave me.”

“Forever,” he gasped. “Forever.” He repeated it over and over as his body strained against hers. No, not against her. With her. Always with her. It overwhelmed her and she rode the crest until they both crashed down on the bed unable to continue. After a moment she cracked one eye and looked around them. They’d trashed the room, of course. She spent more money redecorating her bedroom than anywhere else in the villa. She didn’t know how her accountant kept a straight face.

“You know, it’s a damned good thing I have money.”

He groaned and forced his eyes open. “Oh. Wow. Sorry, Red. I should pay for half of that.”

“You should,” she said, arching up one brow, then grinning to show the tease. “But I’d say it was worth it either way.”

He closed his eyes and gave a most emphatic nod. “Yes. Yes it was.” Then he sighed. She knew his sighs. He had a long-suffering sigh that made her want to hit him. He had a deeply contented sigh. He had a sigh that communicated just how long a day he’d had. He had extremely eloquent sighs. This was a new one, though. She’d never heard him sigh with regret before. She scowled and played it back in her mind. Yes, there was regret in there.

“Dev?”

He opened his eyes and looked at her. “I love you, Red. I always will. But you should wake up, now.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, closing her eyes and stretching out contentedly, though a slight frown creased her forehead. “If anything, I should be preparing for a well-earned rest after a performance like that.”

He reached out and touched her face lightly. “I know you don’t want to wake up. You don’t want to face this, but you have to. You have to stop dreaming. You have to protect us all. I can’t do it any longer.”

“Stop it,” she said angrily, turning to look at him. “Stop talking like that. Everything is just fine, and I’m as awake as I want to be.”

“I know, Red. That’s the problem. We can’t afford you to stay asleep any longer.” She never saw the slap coming, she just felt the hot sting against her cheek. She jerked upright, furious with him but he was gone. She was alone in the bed. She was alone in the room.

She was alone. A sob escaped her lips. How dare he? How dare he?

Nathicana pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as she looked around her room. Yes, her room, though it had become more than that. It had also been their room, a place they could retreat to. A place they’d repeatedly reassured one another that in spite of everything, it was going to be ok.

How dare he leave her alone after all they’d done? All they’d been through?

Her first instinct was to go look for him. But she knew he wouldn’t be there. She knew, and she hated him for that. He was supposed to be there. He was always there. With a curse, she got off the bed, and snatched up a robe as she stalked towards the bedroom door.

Down the hallway, past her office where his team had first ‘invited’ her for dinner, what seemed an eternity ago. Into the kitchen where they’d had so many conversations over a glass of wine, sampling Dom’s latest offerings ahead of time, and soon being chased out on account by him. Stopping and looking at the front room, at the couch she’d been curled up on so contentedly when he’d first proposed.

But he wasn’t there. The house was full of ghosts.

She wandered out into the courtyard. How many meals had they shared there, among other more intimate activities? The trees cast their shadows on the pavers, a light night breeze carried the scents of her flower gardens, all in a comforting familiarness that ought to have had the soothing effect it usually did. It might have, if not for that gnawing emptiness she was desperately trying to fight down.

Her eyes followed the contours of the courtyard, right until they met the low-lying wall that marked the boundary of her property, before it plummeted down the cliffside. It was part of why she’d chosen it, of course. The spectacular view. The rush of peering over and seeing Devras and the surrounding lands spread out beneath her. Seeing from her high vantage the proof of her labors, the jewel in the crown she had prepared for her children.

She hadn’t gone near that wall in years. For many of them, she’d refused to even look at it.

Nathicana stared at the wall for several long moments, feeling the cool pavers under her feet more clearly now than she had when she first walked out into the courtyard. She wasn’t sure why she did it, but one foot moving after the other, slowly, she began to walk towards that spot. That one spot where so many things had changed.

That night hadn’t been so very different. He hadn’t been there then. It hadn’t stopped him from coming for her anyway, through the ash heaps and hordes of orcs. Nothing had stopped him then. Not even the prospect of working with a sworn enemy.

As her hands found the rough-hewn surface of the wall, she found they were shaking. For the first time in well over twenty years, she peered over the edge, and down into darkness. It had all happened so fast. And still, even knowing what he was up against, he had not abandoned her. Not then. Not ever, he’d said.

“Not ever. Never would leave. Never …”

--- --- ---

“Shit, that can’t be good.”

“What, she’s gone for a walk. Nothing wrong with that.”

“She never goes near that wall anymore. Ever. Hold position, alert the others. I don’t know what she’s going to do,” Massetti said, already in motion after the first word had left his lips. He was down off the balcony and through the courtyard to her side by the time the word had spread. Other guards had appeared out of the shadows, but for the moment, they held back waiting for his signal.

“Nathi … you ok?”

The woman didn’t respond, her eyes seeming far away as she peered over the edge, her weight supported by her hands on the top of the wall. She was saying something, he thought. Her lips moved, but he couldn’t hear whatever it was.

Mas signaled someone to bring a blanket. It wasn’t nearly warm enough out here in that short robe, and she seemed oblivious to the fact. Like she wasn’t really there. He’d never known her to sleepwalk, not in all his years of working with her. But with all the stress she’d been under, perhaps it wasn’t too much of a stretch to believe. It was certainly better than the alternatives that leapt to mind.

As he carefully lay the blanket around her shoulders, he kept things quiet, and slow, and gentle. First one hand, then the other were placed on the outside of her shoulders, gradually guiding her away from the wall, back towards the house. At one point, she stopped and seemed to waver. He simply picked her up and carried her the rest of the way, back up to her bed.

“He isn’t here, is he?” she murmured as Mas pulled up the blankets over her, her eyes clear now as she looked up at him.

“No, Nathi. He’s not. Is there anything I can get you?” her security chief replied gently, keeping his expression neutral.

She shook her head, drawing the blankets up more tightly, and turned away from him to stare quietly at the opposite wall, away from the windows.

Mas watched her for a moment, then withdrew from the room, pulling the door closed behind him. “Pascalli, I want a doctor up here first thing in the morning,” he relayed over Spook. “I’ll get in touch with Cesare and Naiya. I think we’ve got a problem.”