From jennyann@ix.netcom.com Sun Aug 4 00:44:22 1996 Date: Wed, 19 Jun 1996 16:09:54 -0700 From: Jennifer Lyon Reply-To: b5-creative@lists1.best.com To: b5-creative@lists1.best.com Subject: "Saying Goodbye" "Saying Good-bye" A Babylon 5 Fanfiction Story by Jennifer Lyon jennyann@ix.netcom.com They were standing close, his hands lightly holding her waist. She had pressed hers up against his chest, leaning into him. "The change, Delenn, what is it like?" He lifted a hand to touch an ebony curl of her hair, letting the strands feather over his fingers. She kept her eyes on his, emerald melding with dark amber. She tried to speak. "It is..." she sighed softly. "I am sorry, it is indescribable." Her voice deepened, thick with emotion. "And even if I could find the words to describe my change, I do not know if yours will be the same. Petrosh *I am sorry*." "Nemoshna *Don't be*." It was his turn to sigh, long and heavy, but the corners of his mouth uplifted simultaneously. "It doesn't matter. I was just curious. Wanted some idea of what it would feel like." "I know," she responded, trying to return the gift of his smile. But she found herself frowning again, her eyes stinging with sorrow. "I wish I could be with you during the change. It is not painful, so much as it is -- difficult -- you should not have to go through it alone." "I won't." Her eyes widened with surprise, he chuckled low and velvet in his throat. "Zathros will stay with me, that much I do know. Or at least, so I've written." He grimaced. "This time travel stuff gets confusing sometimes." "Yes," she replied simply. "But I am glad you will have someone there to tend you through the change. I only wish I could be there as well." "Me too," he said, almost plaintively, then his voice settled somberly. "But it cannot be. You are needed here, Delenn. As I am...elsewhere." "I know," she said yet again, wishing that she didn't know. Sometimes the price just seemed a little too high to pay. "It will be all right. I'll be all right. I feel..." It was his turn to search for words that didn't come easily. "All of my life I've had doubts about who I am and where I belong, but now...now I'm like the arrow that springs from the bow, no hesitations, no doubts, my path is clear." He reached up to close his hands over hers, pressing them into his chest so that she could feel his heart beating strong and steady within. "I'm not worried about me, only about you - and the others." "Nemoshna *don't be*" she reassured him. "We will miss you, *I* will miss you, but we will go on with the work. There is still a war to fight," her voice shattered on the last word, and she drew in a ragged breath. "Delenn, sushan *are you all right*?" "Yes, I just... It is hard sometimes." "I know." He knew far too well. He had, perhaps, not been totally truthful in telling her he had no concerns for himself and what lay ahead of him. Frankly, he was terrified. Terrified and exultant, serenely committed, and yet - it hurt to leave everything and everyone behind. Garibaldi had accused him once of looking for something to die for, and there had been some truth in that accusation. But he was not dying, not really, this was both more and less than death. He was *changing* - leaving his life, his identity, his loved ones behind, and as much as he accepted the destiny he had been chosen for, it still frightened him. He couldn't help asking himself over and over again, *why me?* He didn't know if he was worthy of it, he didn't know if he could really accomplish it all. All he knew was that it *must be.* She knew he understood her better than anyone, and that only made it harder to let him go. His hands engulfed hers, his presence made her feel safe and protected. He was *reassuring* - he had always been so. She'd found from the beginning that simply having this man in the same room as her would make her feel comforted and inspired. That as long as he was with her, there was hope. No one had ever made her feel so secure before, and she knew in her heart that no one else ever would. A silence had fallen between them while they were each lost in their own thoughts, but it was not an uncomfortable silence. Both naturally spiritual people, they accepted the need for moments like this one. Conversation would resume when they were ready. Delenn broke the silence, though it was almost as though she was speaking to herself. "I thought at first that it would be you that I would complete the prophecy with. That you and I would fight this war, here, together. But when I awoke from my change and found you gone... I was terrified. And then to find that Starkiller had taken your place, I wanted to run away. To hide. With you at my side, the difficult times ahead would have been touched with joy, but with him - a man who had done what he had done? Suddenly I wasn't sure I could do this. I felt so alone." "Delenn..." "No, it's all right. One of the Council told me once...prophecy has a way of tending to itself. I've come to like and even care for Sheridan." She managed a real smile. "I never thought I would, but I have. I think he's a good man: a bit reckless, extremely undiplomatic, but *very* human." They both laughed, he squeezed her fingers tightly between his. "He does seem to be an honest man. Garibaldi and Susan both speak well of him. I trust their judgement - and yours," Sinclair replied gently. She nodded. "He will do what is needed of him, and he always with integrity, if not wisdom. It took me a while, but once I looked past 'Starkiller' to see John Sheridan, I was able to see more clearly." She smiled wryly. "It is difficult to hate and fear someone when they become a *real* person to you." "I'm glad, Delenn. For your sake." "Thank you," she gazed up into his eyes, then withdrew one of her hands from his to reach up and trace the crooked scar on his cheek. "I still can't help wishing you could stay. I will always love you, Jeffrey." He lifted his hand to close upon hers. Pressing it into his skin, he turned to kiss her palm. "And I, you, Delenn. I didn't realize how much until I had reassigned to Minbar. I missed you. Our talks in the gardens. The way you used to drive me crazy by saying things that I only half understood." They shared another welcome laugh. "I missed our talks too," she replied. "I wish we had more time..." "It is not meant to be," he told her, his voice rich with sorrow and acceptance. "You cannot follow where I must go, you are needed here. When it is time for me to ... to do this ... you *must* leave me, Delenn. You must stay with Sheridan. He is the only chance for a future we have." His voice strengthened, the intonation becoming commanding. "Promise me that you will stay with him when it is time, promise me!" She nodded, their clasped hands falling back down against his chest. "I will go with him. I know it must be." He tried to reassure her with a smile. "He will do well by you, I am sure of it." "Yes, and so it will be," she replied with abrupt formality. "Oh Delenn," he whispered, leaning down towards her so that his breath brushed her forehead. "It will all right. Give him a chance. The times ahead will be difficult. Take joy where you can find it." "You are right," she replied. "I will do so. And perhaps John Sheridan will surprise us all." Sinclair chuckled. "I have no doubts of that. He seems to have a gift for original thinking." She echoed his laughter. "Quite true!" She smiled warmly. "It will certainly not be dull." He sombered abruptly. She looked to him with sudden concern. "Are you all right, Jeffrey?" "Yes," he nodded. "I was just remembering an old earth curse...'May you live in interesting times.'" She considered it for a moment, then nodded understanding. "Ahh, that is a good one. I will remember it," she smiled slyly. "I suppose I should now wish for you to live in dull times..." He grinned, the brightness of his expression making his eyes sparkle. "I'm afraid that would probably be a wish in vain." "Yes, perhaps." She leaned against him, taking strength from the solidity of his presence. "None of our paths will be easy." "We'll make it," he answered with certainty. "The alternative is...*unthinkable.* So..." "So, we will do what we must," she completed for him. He nodded, then pressed a soft kiss into her forehead. "Come, we must be nearing the rift. The others will be wondering where we disappeared to." As though in direct reply, Lennier's voice rang through the intercom. "Ambassador Sinclair, Ambassador Delenn, please report to the control deck. We are preparing to enter the rift. Ambassador..." "It is time," she said, drawing in a deep breath, then releasing it slowly. He moved to let her go, then in a sudden, decisive burst of motion, took hold of her again. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her up against his chest. With a sigh, she shifted just enough to reach up and wind her arms around his shoulders. She could feel his hands, one pressed into the small of her back, the other sliding up to tangle in her hair. He groaned softly against her forehead, his breath a heated moisture on the crown of her head. She nuzzled into the coarse fabric of his cloak, feeling more sheltered in this one instant than she had ever felt in her life. His arms were like steel bands, sheathed in satin, cradling her, and she could sense his heart beating in synch with her own. She didn't want to move, didn't want this to end, though she knew full well it was a stolen instant, and in no more than a couple breaths, she'd have to let it go - let him go. Tilting her chin up to look into his eyes, her breath caught in her lungs as she found those brown orbs staring down at her with an indescribable hunger. A low moan issued from her throat, strangling off when he kissed her, the pressure of his lips sudden, insistent, demanding. She'd never been kissed before, and it sent shockwaves through her body, electric tingles that flew from nerve ending to nerve ending, heat pouring through her flesh. Clawing her fingers into his back, she melted against him. He supported her, drinking in the taste of her mouth like a drowning man given a draught of fresh water. Then, just as abruptly as he had seized her, he released her, a low painful growl emanating from deep inside him. She staggered, clutching at his shoulders for balance. Her eyes opened and focused on his face, the skin drawn taught over the finely-chiseled bones. There was a remnant of the desire still there, burning in his eyes, but it was already occluded by sorrow and resignation, uplifted by serene determination. He began to speak, his voice hoarse on her name, but she silenced him with a finger against his lips. "Nai, I know," she told him, hoping that her face, her eyes, could communicate more than the simple words could. "I understand." He inclined his head slowly at her, then stepped back to put a safe couple of inches between them. He lifted up his hand, palm outward, in a Minbari gesture of respect. She crossed forearms with him, placing her palm against his chest. He did the same, and they bowed formally to each other over their crossed arms. "We'd better go," he said, solemnly, turning towards the door, pausing long enough for her to step ahead of him. She did so, walking out into the hallway, her head held high, her back straight, comforted by the sound of his footsteps behind her. They'd face this together, as far as they could, and then they'd let each other go, with honor and respect. -- -------------------------------------------------------------------------- jennyann@ix.netcom.com Jenni10647@AOL.com http://members.aol.com/Jenni10647/jgedrick.htm http://members.aol.com/Jenni10647/fanfic.htm http://members.aol.com/JALyon/b5fic.htm "Sometimes the need to mess with their heads outweighs the millstone of humiliation." Fox Mulder "The X-Files" --------------------------------------------------------------------------