Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

All You Have To Do Is Sing, 2nd movement: Caroling

Yautja winters are wet and humid.

One would think that the rain might bring about colder temperatures. Instead. The rain only made things warmer in different ways.

It rained much after I was christened. After receiving the sacramental bread and wine. As it were. That would further ensure my long and happy life.

Happy.

Father would’ve been satisfied with a long life. For any amount of life. As long as it meant I was no longer sick. Su’ete appears to share the same sentiment. Only it wasn’t sickness he could do without. It was my diminutive Human lifespan.

Happiness, however…

It is not something I had time to think about. Leastwise my Father, when he sold me. Neither was it an assurance Su’ete had given, when he gave me his flesh to eat and his blood to drink. It was all a matter of longevity. Survival.

Even so. There were worse ways to spend time.

I would often lay in my nest in the banquet hall to watch the heavens cry onto Su’ete’s lake. The transfusions, rustic as they were, did not sit well with my body as immediately as Su’ete would’ve liked. It was hardly as terrible as it had been to be Dying. Knowing this could only make me better, I tried my best to press on.

Still, I had a fever; and one of the few things I loved to do was be by the lake and watch the winter rain. Su’ete would let me. Naturally. But he did not completely approve the practice. He feared I would get sicker. And in the Yautja lifestyle. Such inconveniences ought to be avoided if they could. Especially if they result from trivial fancies.

But I was his A’ket.  And I was sick. And I was spoiled. And so he let me.

His A’ket.

I smile now. Whenever I hear Su’ete call me that.

He gave me a name. And so I felt…like a Person. Not merely a pet. But a being he regarded and acknowledged.

I had not felt like a Person. Ever.

Amongst Humans. I was a test subject. An experiment.

To my Father. I was a daughter. And that is as close to a Person I had ever felt.

Watching the rain. I thought briefly of dear Father. And the snow I was likely never to see in winter again. Aboard the Heavenfall. They would make it snow for Christmastime. I could never play in it. Because I was Dying.

But…Father would watch it with me. Whenever he was back from his labs.

The idea made me happy. To remember candy canes and warm hugs. I imagined when it would be Christmastime in the Yautja year. When the rains were heaviest? Surely, I must have missed it what with their calendar being longer than the Human Orthodox, but it was the spirit of the holiday that counted, all things considered. All at once I began to get excited.

But. A second later. I felt extremely sad.

The one gift I wanted. I was never going to get.

As my heart sank. I heard a low rumbling from behind me.

I knew it was Su’ete. And that he probably scented my sudden downturn. Perhaps fearing it was a side-effect of my transfusion.

Often. Su’ete would stalk about me. Whenever I was out on the patio and he felt I had filled my quota of rain watching. It was his way of letting me know to go back inside. I would notice him immediately. But I did not move. Not until he told me to.

“A‘ket…” he clicked, with a slight purr. His tone was worried.

I realize not many would be able to tell the difference. Yet I knew. I could tell. Because he worried when I was in distress. And he purred to comfort me.

For a moment. I thought of ignoring him. Pretending I hadn’t heard. Sometimes I could get away with that, and watch the rain some more

But I didn’t want to watch the rain. And my eyes began to sting.

I felt him move towards me. So instead of waiting. I stood up and began to walk back in silently.

I didn’t want to think about Father anymore.

It hurt too much.

There was much to preoccupy my time as we waited for my fever to break.

Or rather. I had time to preoccupy myself with.

Su’ete had me under house arrest until I could go without a cold sweat around respectable society. A practical precaution. I had no idea of knowing whether what Su’ete did was even legal. Yet even if it was. I suspect it would not be as glamorous to have a little songbird perform while she was a delirious mess.

And I was. Delirious.

Lethargically so.

When I had been Dying. Delirium was a constant haze. A thick fog that kept me from thinking. It throbbed inside my head and would not let me move my arms or legs. Suffocating me. The pain I had felt was rooted and rotting in my stomach. It was often I would not go a day without puking whatever black bile had terraformed inside me.

Dying had been difficult.

Being sick was boring.

I had grown accustomed to going out and exercising my voice. My body. Seeing new places and Yautja. Since my Eucharist, I barely wanted to move to my little cage. And not for want from trying.

Su’ete would not let me be lazy. He still got up at his ungodly twilight hour.

Except, I would not rise with him. Sometimes I fancy that I could feel him placing his talons over my forehead before he got dressed for the day. Whether it was nothing but a nice recurring fever dream I can’t be sure. What I did know was that I cherished sleeping in for once. After years hearing about how it was a blissful experience I can confirm the stories are true. It’s absolutely decadent getting to sleep while the whole world moves around you.

Once Su’ete finishes his morning routine he comes back to my little corner of his bed chambers. As nice as sleeping is, I find the practice terribly addicting, as enough is never enough by the time Su’ete comes to pick me up.

Quite literally. He cradles me in his massive arms and I awaken in pathetic little whimpers by the time I realize I’m several feet off my furs and pillows. He is kind, however, purring through my protests despite how childish I must sound.

Once he has me in his arms one of my female Aseigan is left behind to replace, disinfect, and dispose of my sweat soaked bedding as need be. I believe they cycle themselves out, as I would feel absolutely terrible if just one of them had to deal with whatever grime had developed overnight.

Speaking of grime. I’m no better than the sickly sheets I leave behind.

When he came to pick me up on the first day, I protested ardently. I felt like a goblin, sweaty and scorching like a hellion. It seemed to me inappropriate for him to be touching something so frightening without a hazmat suit. Back when I was living in the Heavenfall, the Doctors would often go through levels of decontamination before even routine checkups.

He met my weak little protests with an annoyed shake of his mane, and worse, if I remember smacking his broad chest correctly, with a grunt-like laugh.

After that, I was docile, if not annoyed myself at this new habit of his.

In any case, Su’ete carries me to the bathing room, where my two other Aseigan are waiting, bath already warm and drawn. They take me from him. And if he is reluctant to part with me I suspect that it is because I am a fashionable accessory to his armor.

Once I am in the care of my two Aseigan they dump me in the water and scrub whatever illness I carried over from my bed. They are much less forgiving than they usually are. More so even when we had first been introduce and I was still a filthy little alien. I do not take it personally. I would hate to be the cause of any of them getting sick.

When I am adequately bathed and disinfected, they dress me. Though not as splendidly as usual. I suspect that choking me under the weight of fine jewels and mint gold would not be productive in my sweat-prone state. Especially since I would not be going anywhere.

The dressings are comfortable. Rather than resplendent. It is a testament to Su’ete’s ability to fuss when he does not mind my humble trappings in favor of getting to carry me to the dining table.

I have become awake enough to feel silly being carried as if I were a baby. If he notices, he doesn’t mind in the least. Instead, he focuses all his energy to spoon feeding me my morning meal. By now it is late into his day, and I feel burdensome with how much time he has no doubt wasted on making sure I live through the rest of the day.

I try to eat as quickly as possible. Mostly it’s a battle of wills between my attempts to hurry him out and his attempts to get me to swallow every morsel in spite of my lack of appetite.

“A’ket…” he clicks. Warning look in his eyes.

I’m sick and I’m contrary.

After our hard fought battle, Su’ete takes me to my cage. Leaving tired and repetitive instructions to my Aseigan trio, he finally leaves for the day.

“Stay.”

I’m too sluggish to protest.

In the time he is gone I am rotated between my cage, to the lakeside, to my bed. In an effort to keep fresh and clean. Instead of oils I am given soothing balms.

One of my Aseigan. The white one with very pretty red locks. She perfumes the air around me.

She’s apt at it. I have never seen the others attempt to do the same.

Frankincense and myrrh.

I laugh at my little in-joke. It seems that my hazy mind has decided that it’s Christmastime after all. I can’t fight my own thoughts.

Emboldened by the return of my good humor, I hear another of my Aseigan chortle. She is the one with molted green scales. Ever since Su’ete’s gamble with alternative medicine has left me weakened, this particular one of my group has taken to speaking. Not at me. And very quietly when she thinks I do not notice. At first I was puzzled. But it reminded me of how Father would start to pray whenever I got really close to dying.

I don’t know if she’s actually praying. But I like to think she is.

It happens upon me that green is also a Christmas color.

My thoughts on my little Human Holiday.

And my Father.

I began to Sing.

It had never occurred to me to Sing for my Aseigan. I would often Sing to entertain myself whenever Su’ete was not around. But I gave no care of whether any of his servants were around or not. They often were not.

But I had not Sung since falling ill. I believe Su’ete feared it would stress me.

Like my Father used to think.

Shaking my head from my more oppressing thoughts of Father. I instead focused on my Song. Putting on a show as I had not done since winter began. I wanted to be good. I wanted to thank my Aseigan for being so attentive of me. Perhaps apologize for ever being difficult in the past.

The season of kindness and all that.

When I opened my eyes. I saw them all rapt in attention. They seemed to realize I was not merely Singing to pass the time. But for them. Specifically for them.

I heard purring to the left of me. Surprised, but not enough to pause, I turned to find the last of my Aseigan was the culprit.

She was the shortest one. The shortest of the three of them who were all small and thin.

I remember how this fact confused me, after being around such powerful females as Matriarch A’yate. I was led to believe that all female Yautja were huge and magnificent. Far more than even my Arbitrator. But not her, it seemed. Even her associates where slightly taller than her, so I am to assume it is an advantage of female Yautja as a whole to be tall.

But this one was short. Far shorter than Su’ete, who was an actual giant, but I supposed by Yautja standards she was no more the height of an average Human. She was reasonably sized to me, in any case. Perhaps she was chosen specifically not to overwhelm me. Fancy, that I had not even stopped to consider what the process of choosing my Aseigan had been. They were a colorful trio, after all, I can’t imagine it had been at random.

Especially her, who purred warmly at my singing where her sisters appeared slightly scandalized. Whether at my boldness or hers I am not quite sure.

She did have one thing I would put above even the most magnificent Yautja woman.

She had the most gorgeous blue eyes I had ever seen.

I smiled. Finishing my song.

I supposed it wouldn’t be so bad to do a bit of Caroling until Su’ete came back. I was sick but not with a Human sore throat after all. Besides. He didn’t have to know I was Singing for them. It wouldn’t do to get them in trouble during Christmas.

I woke from my nap to find Su’ete already kneeling over me. Purring as he does.

My Aseigan have long since left.  I am allowed to take a nap once a day in hopes that it will allow me to recover faster. I can’t sleep too much, however. It scares me and it’s too much like Dying again for my liking.

Early on, I woke up crying because I thought I stopped breathing. Su’ete had been there, and the way I had clung to his arm made him skip a whole days worth of work he would not let me go afterward.

I’d rather not sleep.

Drowsy, I looked up to find Him looking rather perturbed.

I reached up to my nose to see if I had been bleeding again. Another side affect that had returned from my early days of Dying.

No. I was blissfully free of bloody mucus.

I sat upright. More presentably.

From my nest by the lake one would think I was cold. But no. Once again the rainy season does not bring much reprieve from the heat. But it is nice to look at and listen to when one takes an afternoon nap.

Stretching away the last vestiges of sleep, I look again to find that Su’ete has sat himself next to me. Still with an expression of apprehension. Watching the rain as I would do.

I look at him quizzically.

He side eyes me with concern but shows me the instrument of his current mood.

There is a syringe in his hand that he passes to me.

Oh.

Absolutely not.

“A’ket –”

He would sooner have to catch me –

“H‘ko, A‘ket –”

He caught me.

“Stay.”

Oh, but I am going to struggle -

“A’ket, stay –” I squirm between his arms where he has me pinned against his back. At this point I have started kicking, “A‘ket – H‘ko, A’ket stay – please.”

I stop all at once.

Not without glaring. And not because I approve of what he is planning.

He said please. And if Father has taught me anything it’s manners.

Thinking of Father makes me soft.

In a millennia there still isn’t a direct sentiment for thank you in the Yautja language. At least not one appropriate to say in response to not throwing a tantrum, though I don’t know how much Su’ete values not having to deal with me inconveniencing him. Could be not at all. Could be one less thing to worry about.

Regardless, in lieu of expressing gratitude He purrs instead, “N‘got, A‘ket.”

Deflated, but not entirely defeated, I am open to His explanation.

Taking both my wrists between either of his hands, one of which still had the syringe which I eyed warily, I can feel his lower tusks massage the back of my head. I would hear him out. And although I knew I actually had very little say in whatever it was he was purposing, I appreciated his attempts to soothe me before it started.

“It will help you.”

I looked up at him as best as I could backwards. Surprised. Skeptical.

He put my head back down, petting me.

“It was hardly perfect, what I gave you, and that is why you have been ill. But it has done enough and time has passed, so we can try something better.”

Done enough? I would say as much. It’s done and made me sick since winter started.

But why tell me this, as if to convince me?

He doesn’t have to.

I’m His little errant puppy. He just has to make me take my medicine.

“However, if you let me do it this way, you will get well again,” He continues, “It will be quicker, and you will not be in so much pain.”

I could feel his grip tighten over my wrists.

Why tell me this?

He hadn’t asked me before. He simply acted. Admittedly, it had made me upset, and I only forgave him because he seemed…sorry for it.

But…he doesn’t have to ask me.

Because that’s what he was doing, was it not? Asking.

I kept remembering how He. Bought me. From my Father. It gave me a Feeling. Scorching. Like fire in my chest not like being sick. Or Dying.

It made me…Angry. To remember how Father sold me off to save me. How he had to do it. Because the Doctors treated me like a Thing to be studied because they had no Cure but the Yautja did. Su’ete could buy it on a ship whereas Father had spent my entire life working to earn it.

It made me Angry. To remember why I had come here. That to every living thing on this planet, Su’ete was my Master, my keeper, and I was no more than my three little Aseigan even with all my trappings of a fanciful songbird.

It made me Angry. So much that I shook in his arms.

Because if things had been different. I would be spending real Christmas with Father, instead of pretending it was on an alien world and I’d like to stop remembering Father right now.

“Do you understand, A‘ket?”

A’ket.

That’s my Name.

My new Name. One that Su’ete gave me. Because I’m Not Just a Thing. I’m a Person, once again.

And you ask a Person. You ask permission. You don’t go around stuffing blood and flesh in their mouths. You bring proper medical equipment and present them with options. You go out of your way to comfort them beforehand. Reassure them.

You hug her the way her Father used to.

I take a shaky breath. Anger making way for a strange little feeling of sobbing but instead its all over my body instead of my face.

Behind me, Su’ete begins to purr, but stops abruptly. In favor of loosening his grip on my wrists.

The syringe falls gently into my palm.

I hated looking at it.

The Doctors were always poking me with syringes back at the Heavenfall.

For fun, it seemed to me.

But…Su’ete isn’t like them.

He was worried. I had worried him. And he was trying to help.

He didn’t have to ask me. But he was.

The least I could do…

I wiggled free from Su’ete’s grasp and his lap. He did not move from his sitting position but watched me. Patiently? Respectfully.

As far as everyone else is concerned. I am nothing more than a pet. A strange little animal. But here. Right now. I’m being given some of my autonomy back.

At least Su’ete. Over everyone. Is treating me like a Person.

I hand him the syringe. Nodding.

Su’ete reaches over to take it. Giving my outstretched hand a gentle squeeze.

The syringe slips from my palm to his.

Turning it over. Su’ete eyes it pensively for a moment.

I wonder if he too has doubts. If he questions why he is doing all this.

For a little alien girl with a pretty Voice.

He taps his right arm, above the inner elbow, and with that hand Su’ete takes the syringe and presses the needle where I assume a ripe vein is waiting.

My reaction is immediate.

I lunge forward. As if to hold his hand. Muscle memory telling me that it should hurt. That he could be in pain. That life experience proved that taking blood out of oneself is not a pleasant pass time, by far.

And yet this was Honorable Arbitrator Su’ete’cha’aka and He does not flinch for pain.

And yet this was Su’ete, and I worried that he might.

Watching as the syringe tube filled with his blood, I knew how it was supposed to feel. So much that though his blood was green, I could only see a thick red liquid, mine, in its place. I tried not to, but the memories of the Doctors, their smell, the feel of their rubber gloves, became all too real again. All too here again.

I lunged forward. But I froze before I could give Su’ete the same comfort my Father often gave me. Because even the reminder of my old life. The one filled with lab coats and insincere faces. Was enough to stop me.

As much as I had hated the Doctors before. I hated them tenfold now.

They weren’t allowed to terrorize me. Not long after they weren’t around.

As Su’ete took the needle from his arm, he looked back up at my shaking form. He began to purr, concern ghosting on his face.

I wanted to tell him that I was not backing out. That my tremors were more for the blood trickling down his arm. How just because he was hardened enough not to even think of covering his little nick, instead of letting it bleed out like that, did not mean it didn’t affect me. The way it always did when I would not stop hemorrhaging. When Father was around to tell me that it would be okay.

Instead of telling him, I extended my own arm.

He was surprised. But saw my determination. Saw that I was fighting through my own desire to flee, to run from my memories and what I feared.

But Father said not to be afraid.

Not of Su’ete.

And so leastwise I would not be afraid of phantom Doctors and nightmares.

I could hate them. I would hate them. But dammed if they make me lie to my Father.

I closed my eyes.

I could feel him take my arm in his talons. Feel his thumb press over my inner elbow, looking for my pulse, my life blood and vein. I was as stiff as I could be. And he did not purr. Both of us so concentrated at the task at hand.

I felt the needle.

All at once I felt myself shaking. Felt myself try to rip my arm away. But Su’ete held me in place. As one hand pressed the Syringe forward, pushed his blood into mine. The other held me there.

There was heat coming from my face and I knew there were tears already streaming down though I made no noise and no movement beyond what I had already done. I did not fuss. I did not try to fight the way I had done before. I was simply sitting. Frozen and silently sobbing and trying to be brave. Trying not to feel.

I would not be afraid.

Su’ete pulled the needle out.

And I.

Gasped.

Letting out a chocked sob. I opened my eyes. Delirious. Not from sickness. But from all the memories I tried so hard to speed through. I tried to remember. As quickly as I could. That I was here. Not with the Doctors.

Not with my Father.

And that alone snapped me out of it.

That alone reminded me. That I was with Su’ete. That he was the one pressing his thumb over my wound. An action so absurd to me after his inconsequence towards his own, mirrored and bleeding, piercing in his inner elbow.

An action so hypocritical that it made me furious at him.

I threw a pillow at his face. Sobbing.

I sobbed and Su’ete purred. Grabbing me by the wrist as I tried to hit him. He pulled me back onto his lap and into his arms and I let him. Not that I could fight him. But I let him. And he seemed to know that.

He purred as he rocked me in his arms. And I cried as I attempted to bury myself into his broad chest. Both of us clutching each others fresh and bleeding wound.

I’m not sure if I was ashamed or just embarrassed at my severe reaction. Su’ete didn’t seem to care either way. All that mattered was that I was crying and whatever the reason he would like for me to feel better. And for that I was thankful.

I was also sorry. Sorry for the blood on his arm that I was desperately trying to apply pressure to. Sorry I was not strong enough to stop it completely the way he was stopping mine. Sorry that he cared enough to do this. To make me well again. To make me live.

It seems that every time someone would like for me to live. I hurt them in some way.

Pity, that.

There was something I could do. Desperate as I was to stop his bleeding. Sobbing as I was. Past my own physical weakness. Past the tears.

Between softening hiccups, I began to Sing.

Su’ete stiffened around me. Because it had so long since I Sang for him. I even Sang for my Aseigan, before Singing for him. And I felt bad for it, even though I would never tell him, because they had deserved it. The same way he did. As blasphemous as it sounds.

Deserved it because…they cared about me. Beyond taking care of me. They cared.

What ever his reasons for doing so. Su’ete cared about me.

So I Sang for Su‘ete.

And Su’ete purred for me.

The ordeal had been emotionally exhausting.

More so than physically, which I could sleep off. It had been the memories, the trauma, the pushed aside thoughts and feelings that had come rushing back to me that had caused me to react viciously to what should’ve been nothing more than a vaccine shot.

I have spent so long focused only on survival. Ignoring everything that would upset me. Scare me. There was always a new challenge to overcome, a new hurdle I had to face in order to deserve to live. As if that was something you earned. Life was just something others did. And why shouldn’t they? Why shouldn’t I?

I have been preoccupied for so long, that I had not noticed how relaxing being able to breathe had become. Here in Su’ete’s palace. Where living peacefully had crept up on me. Opened the floodgates to every injustice of my life at the mere presence of a needle.

It had always been easy to hate the Doctors. I hated them even then, Dying as I was. They always represented misery. A cosmic truth that I was not well and I could not be happy no matter where I was.

What was new was the Anger.

Hatred was fleeting. Any given moment the Doctors existed so did my hate for them. But when the moment passed it faded in favor of kinder things. There was no Time to keep hating them. Not when I was Dying.

Every moment with Father was precious.

My head hurt.

For the life of me, I could not pinpoint why I kept thinking of Father. Not that I ever wanted to forget him. But suddenly it seemed that I could only remember him and feel pain. Even when I was first sold off, I did a better job of pushing through the fact that I missed him.

There lied the Anger. There again lied the injustice that I was now at liberty to feel. Before today it would have been a deadly distraction. Had I felt this way when I was still a newly adopted puppy that Su’ete had acquired, he would’ve regretted his purchase. Had I lamented and loathed my situation, Matriarch A’yate would’ve killed me on the spot. If I had botched my first outing, my debut show in society, with thoughts of fury at the audience unlike myself, I would have had no leverage to get Su’ete to like me.

And none of it had been fair. And I could see that now - No. I could feel that now. I let myself feel it now. Now that I was safe. Now that I missed my Father so much.

Hatred was fleeting. Anger lingered.

And yet. So did Su’ete.

We have spent all afternoon in my little nest by the lake.

Su’ete has not moved an inch from where he has me on his lap, even though it has been hours since my short little Song. Hours since I’ve stopped crying, even.

I think he’s trying to scent whether or not I’m going to die in his arms.

Anyone who dares come near, Su’ete growls at. Viciously.

By the third Aseigan, I willed him with pointed looks to be kinder. It wasn’t their fault that we were waiting for bad news. He was no less gruff, but then again, it will be years until any of them will feel safe enough to show themselves once more.

I have no doubts that he can spend weeks cradling me in his arms. If not months.

My stomach rumbles.

Above me, Su’ete lets out an amused little trill, “Ah, so now you will eat?”

I feel my face go red.

But I would not protest to being hand fed at the moment, no.

Su’ete laughs.

I realize that I miss Father. But I am not angry at Su’ete.

I’m Angry at every waking moment that led us here, but I’m not angry at Su’ete.

I’m beginning to feel. That I’m incapable of being Angry with Su’ete.

More gently than he would have otherwise, he lifts me and himself from where we have been sitting.

At this point, I would’ve preferred to be left to walk on my own two legs. For the first time I look outside and see how late it has gotten. We’ve completely missed dinner.

“Where the Pauk are my Aseigan!” he growls, coming out of the dining hall as if he hadn’t scared them all away.

As if he were not, at that very moment, ignoring my ardent little pats on his chest because I would like to be put down this very instant thank you very much.

From the shadows, one of my own Aseigan bows into view. The one with the pretty blue eyes.

I immediately try to flag her down. Between the two of us, I think we could take him.

Still ignoring me, Su’ete addresses her, “Tell the S'yuit-de hiding in the back to bring her dinner.”

No longer for my sake, I give him another fruitless smack.

He finally rolls his eyes, “Tell them kindly.”

I can’t imagine there being a kind way to call someone a spineless bastard, but it’s supposed to be understood that the kindness is most definitely not coming from him.

Bowing again, she disappears into the corridors.

For once, her sisters are not steps behind, and I think perhaps they too have been frightened into the barracks, poor things.

Satisfied with his reign of terror, Su’ete carries me over to my cage.

He knelt just enough for me to safely get down, which I did leaping to my freedom. If Su’ete was annoyed at my nonchalant endangerment, I did not look back at him to investigate. I was too preoccupied with the cramp in my legs from being curled up for so long. Unlike him, I did not have the training required to stay immobile and waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike for goodness knows how long.

I stretched out my sore muscles and whatever bones needed cracking where grateful for the opportunity.

Beside me, I felt Su’ete sit down upon my furs with a loud thud of his own.  Already he was rubbing the back of his neck from under his fantastically full mane.

Where I stood watching him, I wondered. Though it was true that physically an afternoon sitting on his legs with me on his lap was hardly even a penance for him. It must have been as emotionally taxing on him as it was for me.

Once again I began to think. That for whatever reason. Su’ete was invested in my continued existence. Beyond merely appreciating having a pet to Sing to him.

I did know one thing. I had seen this kind of posture before.

Hunched over. Tired. After a long day of not knowing if I would live to see another.

Su’ete looked just like Him now.

Even back then, I was only ever taller when he was sitting down, my dear Fa –

From the halls, I heard rattling as the Aseigan came into view. Every single one of them carrying tray after tray of food from the kitchen. I leaned on and over one of my bars watching the progression come to a halt where all the Male Aseigan usually stop. Far away from me as possible at the farthest edge of the welcoming room. Trying not to anger Su’ete more than they all had been yelled at for earlier that afternoon.

Only my female Aseigan came forward. Ring leaders to the strange little marching band who were anxiously waiting to not mess things up or at least flee if things turned sour.

They were a welcome distraction from –

Well. Things I didn’t want to think about.

Endeared, I turn toward Su’ete, who likewise seems endeared with the fact I appear so eager to eat for once.

He claps his hands twice. Giving order.

A parade of dishes and beverage where lain at our feet. Naxa. Meat. Even bottles of  Cn’tlip seemed to have been unburied from Su’ete’s private crates. I sit down with an amused smile, wondering how on earth any of them expected us to eat all of this. Maybe Su’ete could, but I was hardly sure if I could even be this hungry.

Still, I found myself reaching out at the spread placed before my cage and devouring entire legs of meat. For some reason it tastes practically divine, now more than it ever did.

‘Suppose that’s what happens after an afternoon of intensity - both medical and emotional.

Huffing from being denied his favorite indulgence, I felt Su’ete wrap an enormous arm around my waist and pull me back next to his side. I can barely drag with me an entire plate of meat and vegetables that I was gulping down inelegantly. I have half the mind to protest before Su’ete dangles a particularly juicy morsel in front of me. Back to his old ways and tricks.

I’m too hungry to care about propriety and allow him to feed me, while still munching on the loaf of bread in my hands.

We will have words later. Maybe. I’m still eating.

“Drink something or you will choke on your food, you foolish little thing,” he clicks at me.

I don’t take kindly to me being called foolish, since I’m already a little thing, so I act out by stealing the goblet in his free hand.

“A’ket –”

Before he can get a word in edgewise I swing the cup back, taking a big gulp and -

Oh, darn it.

Well, I’m not foolish, but I certainly didn’t think that through.

I sputter whatever vestige of Cn’tlip remained in my mouth with a sour expression and even redder face.

Beside me, Su’ete erupted in roaring laughter. Head tossing back and eyes shut with amusement.

I reach up and stuff a berry in his mouth.

He nearly chokes himself, but that doesn’t stop him from taking both his hands and lifting me from the waist. I scream. And we both end up bursting into laughter as I fall down on my back with my head on his thigh.

Su’ete nudges my nose, still laughing.

I don’t think I’ve seen him laugh so. Even after parties.

Maybe.

I had never really seen him Happy.

Above us, I could now see incense smoke fade up into the roof from where I lay. Glancing, my Aseigan with the brilliant red hair was indeed perfuming around my cage. The green one muttering her little prayers where she thinks no one will be able to see her. And the blue eyed one. Ever the busybody. Is already attempting to tidy up whatever me and Su’ete have left alone. Signing orders at her little helpers, the male Aseigan.

Frankincense and myrrh.

All this reminded me of Christmas dinner. In some strange fashion.

It ought to be time to do some Caroling.

There were I lay relaxed over Su’ete’s lap, I began to Sing whatever little Christmas tune I could think off, with him purring as he ran his claws through my hair.

I Sang for the Aseigan, mine and the rest. I Sang for Su’ete. For myself. For the little fantasy I was playing at because a little Human Earth Holiday made me…

It made things feel more important. Somehow.

It was already so late.

Me and Su’ete had eaten and drunk our fill of the feast. Su’ete relaxing his back on one of my golden bars and drifting into sleep inside my little cage. Me Caroling to my heart’s content as I watched him. As far as everyone else knew, they were no different than my other Songs, so I did not have to think of any significance that would’ve soured my mood any more than Christmastime had already done.

The Aseigan were finally finishing with lifting the mess we had made, and I felt bad for them. And yet. They did not appear too cranky or to mind as much as they should have. Not that they can express such emotions so openly. Even as their Master slept and only his charge watched them. But I would say they actually appeared…

Jolly.

I let out a quiet laugh as the last of them shuffle out. Spring in their steps.

My three dear Aseigan are the last to go.

Without Su’ete looking. They bow lowly. And I think -

No. I know they were bowing at me. Thanking me.

This is the second time I have Sung with them around to hear. Specifically, so they may hear. And tonight, unselfishly I added the whole of the Aseigan to my audience.

The one with blue eyes chanced to glance up at me. Beaming. And though her sisters would not dare to do the same, they seemed just as pleased. Before retiring for the night.

It made me wonder. If this was my gift to them. My Singing.

Now. As the night fully enveloped us, and Su’ete slept beside me, I allowed myself to think of Father.

I don’t recall my Christmas gifts beyond the memories of them being more important for Father than they were to me. Every day of the entire year was a reason for Father to give me something. Anything. Because I was Dying and there was no guarantee I would live long enough to warrant a special occasion. An important day. Every time I did make it to Christmas, Father thought it a miracle worthy of celebration.

Toys, books, art supplies and games. I only cared for them because Father would be beside me. Playing with me. My real gift had always been that it was the one day a year that Father would stay with me, without the risk of anyone interrupting us. Without the reminder that I was a sick girl. It made it feel…real.

Like we were a real, untouched family.

I myself do not recall being able to give Father anything. Beyond singing Christmas Carols, ones he taught me, that was the only thing I ever did during Christmas that seemed to make him happy. Beyond simply not Dying that year.

I’d never really considered my voice a gift. At least. Not a gift that was mine to give. It was a gift I had been given from Mother.

Mother.

Well, now I’d done it.

I got it into my mind that it was Christmas. And I missed Father. And now I missed my Mother.

I truly am the worst.

“A’ket?”

I jumped slightly. Turning to see that Su’ete had woken up and was staring at me with concern. Probably having scented my sadness.

He purred, reaching over to play with my hair, “What happened, A‘ket?”

A’ket.

As far as I could remember. I knew one thing. That my Father had told me that my Mother had been the one to name me. Before she died. Before I killed her.

I loved that name. My Father loved that name.

She had given me two gifts. As it turns out.

One I used to Sing for the Yautja who bought me. To please him. To get him to care for me. To make him keep his promise to Father.

The second gift was the name I would never use. The name I would never hear again. Not from her lips. Ever. Not from Father’s - ever again.

Never from Su’ete.

Because to Su’ete I was A'ket'anu’Kalei. His A’ket.

And I don’t know what that meant to him. To call me this. I don’t even know what it means. Just that he likes to say it. Likes to call me this name I don’t understand.

That his green eyes are soft when he calls me A’ket.

I scamper into his lap. Willingly for once, and I could feel his surprise as I do so. As I barely keep myself from crying any more than I have all afternoon as I attempt to bury my face into his chest again. Trying to pretend that I was only sleepy. That I only wanted to go back to bed after a long, long day of not wanting to be, for a while.

And I felt Su’ete purr as he wrapped his arms around me again. Not believing me at all. But he didn’t ask any more questions.

Instead he lifts me up, as he likes to do, and he carries me over to our room.

And I can pretend. If I close my eyes tightly. That it is my Father or my Mother who is holding me and not Su‘ete.

And that makes me feel worse than I have felt all night.

Now that I was Singing again. I took to my old habits once more.

Su’ete had been right. I was feeling much better.

As fast and loose as we were playing with my health, it seemed that this gamble had worked out. The initial dosage had done the heavy work, paving the way and leaving my body weak trying to adapt to the rapid changes. The more precise injection acted as a repairman, smoothing out the rough edges.

I was still prone to dizzy spells. And felt tired after whiles. But soon we hoped the fever would break.

In the meantime, now that I was not liable to faint, I could stay as long as I wanted wherever it was I wanted to be. Instead of being circulated and carried everywhere.

Well, carried by Su’ete. Who seemed to insist on doing so despite my improvement.

My Aseigan were less obstinate.

They were content to keep an eye on me from afar, as I walked about the den.

No not walked. I began to dance as I Sang.

It was my form of exercise, one I have unable to benefit from since getting sick. I was beginning to get stir crazy with nothing to do and nowhere to go for so long. And I hated having to be sick and laying down. Tired of thinking about times when I was Dying.

So instead I danced.

I don’t think I was as good at dancing as I was at Singing. But that wasn’t the principle of the thing. Singing was less a hobby, but more a talent; it was also my job, of sorts.

No, dancing was fun.

And I wanted to have fun.

I didn’t want to think about memories, as Singing often made them creep up on me these days. I just wanted to distract my body. Become too distracted to care. Too tired after a set of Songs to worry about anything but resting after the fact.

A jump. A skip. A step. It didn’t make me a better dancer, but I felt my lungs on fire and for once since becoming a favored Singer in this alien world, I found myself struggling to keep up with every chord and every note. It was a welcome challenge. To try not to lose my breath as I danced across the house.

I threw a pillow up from my nest by the lake and attempted to catch it before I fell from spinning and Singing.

I failed terribly.

My blue eyed Aseigan smiled from where she was watching me at the end of the banquet table. She was quickly becoming my favorite. She let me dance all I wanted, and I didn’t mind when she laughed. Though she tried to keep herself from doing so. It still wasn’t right for her to take such liberties, even if I welcomed the change.

Her sisters fussed more and got anxious when I tried to do things against Su’ete’s preference. Whenever their turn to watch me ended, it was a relief for all parties involved.

I supposed we had all changed. Since none of us had been sure if I was going to Die after all this trouble. Now that it didn’t appear like I would, it was hard to get back into the swing of things. Not until the fever broke, at least.

Why, even I thought picking up dancing would help me sort out my scattered thoughts, so intensely had being sick mucked up all my past experience of Dying. I figured it was so far removed from how lethargic I used to be, back then and during my sickness, that it’d shake me out of it.

Help improve my condition, as the Doctors used to say -

Oh, damn it all.

My red haired Aseigan came into the dining hall and I stopped dancing long enough to see her worried expression. It made me smile.

But she wasn’t here for me, instead going over to where her sister stood vigil and whispered something I couldn’t hear. It could only mean one thing.

Su’ete was back.

Before either of them could stop me, I ran out the dining hall and into the drawing room where my cage was. Startling my green scaled Aseigan half to death from where she was freshening up my nest.

It appeared I had just missed him.

No matter. I began to look for him in every room. Running and dancing faster than my Aseigan could catch me. As far as I knew they were amusing me, not that I was sure what they could do if they wanted to stop me. I can’t imagine any of them would scoop me up and scold me, it didn’t seem in any way appropriate.

Emboldened with these facts, I began to Sing in order to get Su’ete’s attention. Draw him out from wherever he was hiding.

He wasn’t in the Krehite. Or our room. And I had just come from the dining hall and drawing room.

His study, then.

Still making a scene, I sprinted to the last place he could be.

I was right. He was already looking at his monitor when I came bursting in.

“Have you been exerting yourself?” Su’ete clicked at me, trying to be stern but instead sounding beguiled.

I scrunched up my nose at him.

He huffed, looking back at his monitor intently, “You are supposed to be resting.”

Yes, and usually that is why I only see him when he comes to fetch me later on. But I was tired of being sick and tired. And in any case. Usually when Su’ete was home I would be wherever he was instead of just being in any of my nests. Being feverish had prevented the practice for quite some time.

And I…Felt terrible. For what I had thought about nights ago.

It hadn’t been Su’ete’s fault that I made myself sad. And I made him feel like it was.

So instead of dwelling on that, I tried to make things as they were before.

Thinking myself sneaky, I went over to his desk where he was engrossed in his work and tried to peer at whatever it was he was looking at on his screen.

Unlike the Aseigan, Su’ete did pick me up.

I protested immediately.

Carrying me over to the entrance where my Aseigan stood waiting, with me kicking and squirming under his arm, Su’ete addressed my keepers with strict orders, “She may dance as she likes, but I want her rested before dinner.”

I didn’t think I needed his permission to dance.

Placing me back on my feet as if I were a doll, Su’ete knelt before me with a bemused and crooked smile. I pouted.

“Behave, A’ket,” He purred, petting my head.

Su’ete went back to his desk with a wave of his hand, signaling his order, and I was left with my hands on my hips.

He is up to something.

I don’t know what. But I find his behavior suspect.

My three Aseigan wait patiently for me to compose myself, as none of them can lead me away without committing the grand sin of touching me. I take pity on their limitations, and muse that for now, at least, Su’ete has used my softness for their wellbeing against me. The fantastic cad.

We all retreat from Su’ete’s office space, me leading the charge as I attempt to decipher what he is trying to hide from me. He doesn’t usually dismiss me, and it’s unlike him to so easily give up on an opportunity to hoist me up and keep me trapped in his grip as if I were an infant.

Maybe he was upset at me.

I didn’t want to entertain such a thought.

Maybe he was planning something. Scheduling a party we would go to after I was well.

No, he would tell me such a thing, so I may train my voice beforehand.

It had to be something, and while my train of thought lingered, I went into my cage out in the drawing room to think it over. My three Aseigan looked relieved that I would not actually continue to run from them. Choosing instead to sit down and think.

It occurs to me, as I watch them catch their breath, that they might know the answer to my little mystery. But I don’t think they could tell me if they did.  There are too many variables preventing us from ever actually talking to one another.

The thought makes me sad.

I have been sad ever since I began to pretend it’s Christmas. For such a joyous holiday it hasn’t really done much to lift my spirits as I thought it would. It’s even made me think that Singing isn’t enough.

It is enough for Aseigan. Who have nothing. Who are treated as nothing. While I have so much now, that it gives me time to miss my Parents.

I clench my fists against the embroidered pillow I hold from my cage. Even the texture reminds me how different of a fate I hold from the Aseigan. How hard I worked to be different. I have a golden cage to lie in and somehow that makes me so much more than them. How is it not alike from the cage the Aseigan live in?

Singing is enough for the Aseigan. It is a kindness I can give them. But I don’t think it should be. It is as if I were flaunting the thing that makes me somehow better and saying they should be grateful. It’s not a proper gift.

My Aseigan gather around me.

The red haired one lights a burner near me, probably to clear my airways after all the running I did. The green scaled one begins oiling my feet and calves, most likely also because I was dancing all day. The one with blue eyes begins combing through my hair, which had been left wild for so long that the braids need to be fixed.

My Aseigan.

It’s not enough for me to feel sorry for them. Not unless I treat them as People. Even if I can only do so when we’re alone. Even if it’s only in my head.

Even if I can’t tell them. They should have names.

Tentatively. I reach out and place one hand over that of the green scaled one. Likewise, I place a hand over where the red haired one is holding the burner.

They freeze under my touch. And they do not look up. And I know that they are not likely to ever return the gesture. No matter how kind I am. Because they have lived in this world for far longer than I, and though I would like for things to be different, they cannot afford it.

I look up into the eyes of my dear one and see that the corners of her ocean eyes are smiling down at me. And I imagine how we could’ve been easy friends, if we could show affection openly instead of having to be subtle.

They cannot afford it. But they understand. And that would have to be enough.

Merryweather goes back to braiding my hair, as her sisters; the green scaled Fauna and red-haired Flora, respectively, return to their tasks as I removed my obstructing hands from theirs.

Whatever it is, Su’ete will tell me what he’s planning.

Even if he is upset at me.

In the meantime, I can’t make up for my behavior towards him, but I feel better knowing that I can at least make up for my behavior towards the Aseigan. At least a little. At least enough.

When I dream, it’s like I’m in a Song

In this Song, the lyrics don’t have to make sense, even if the feelings behind them do.

There are people here that shouldn’t be. And places I have never lived in that feel familiar despite the fact.

Mother is here. And I know we are living in Earth. Like she wanted.

Dream me looks around at this unfamiliar house. As if I had ever seen it. Like I hadn’t made it up so often in my mind that it actually exists. At. This. Very. Moment. as if it always had.

Dream me is something of an idiot.

I watch her run up against the stair banister. As if there wasn’t anything more important to do. As if our Mother was not right there. Why are you

    wasting

       so

 much

  time?

When you could be with Her?

Instead of racing against no one on the stairs.

I feel like someone should be behind me. Making sure I do not trip and fall.

I hope Dream Me trips and falls.

Mother has me in her arms.

I know why Dream Me wastes the time she has with Her.

Because she can have Her whenever she wants. In this world that is a Song, there has not been a day since I was born where Mother wasn’t in it. That is the luxury of peace. Of having the thing you want most at your disposal. There is time to waste.

A Mother you can take for granted. I want to hear her Sing.

In my head. The one looking at the foolish little Dream Me. I know there is a memory of how Mother Sings. I don’t know why I can’t bring it forward. It’s there. In my head. But this dream doesn’t want Mother to Sing with me. To Finally Sing With Me. So I can show her how good I am now. How well I use her gift.

I hate Dream Me. She’s not doing what Real Me desperately wants. Just because she doesn’t have to. Just because she already knows how we sound together. I know she does. In this dream I have always had my Mother, and we Sing together all the time, and right now it doesn’t matter what we do because we have all the time in the world except that we don’t.

Mother, ^{make me} Make me a bird of prey. So I can rise above this, let it fall away
Mother, _{make me} Make me a song so sweet Heaven trembles, fallen at our feet

Mother says something in the voice I have never heard, one the recordings could never supplement, one I can’t transpose from my memories even to help me Dream it.

I just know Mother is asking Father what took Him so long.

He says that he’s done with his labs and he’s ready to spend all the Christmas Day long with us –

This is a story.

He read me this story. I liked this part. I am not an original Dreamer.

But Father looks tired. And that is real. I don’t know how my Mother would react to most anything, so everything she says or does I just feel. Like a Song. Father is different. When I see him so tired, it is the vivid image I have burned into my mind from all my life of knowing him.

And tell me if somehow some of it remained
How long you would wait for me?
How long I've been away?

Dream Me runs up to Him. Frees herself from Mother’s arms.

Instead of taking care of Him. She asks Him pointless questions.

I watch her look up at Him and I desperately wonder why she is such a pointless, careless little thing. Why he puts up with her pestering. Smiling the way He always does. ^{Before the otherness came} _{And I knew its name}

He picks me up. And for once Dream Me fades away so I may enjoy it.

I’m getting so tall now, that my feet dangle as He holds me from under my arms. I wait for him to pull me close to him, like he always does, since I was a toddler and the Doctors let me go.

But the Doctors have never existed here.

I was never sick

                        and Mother never Died

                                                            and Father lives with us

                                                                                                on Earth

                                                                                                            and we’re h_ap^py

I wait for him to pull me closer. So I can feel it, now that I can, now that dream me is quiet and dead. So the memories I have of how it is like to be held by my Father can bridge the gap and make this feel real.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t and I want to cry don’t know why. He shouldn’t be able to just keep me there. But this is a Dream. So he keeps me up from under my arms, away from him. And instead of this super human strength being an issue, we all marvel on how he can barely lift me off the ground. How big I am now.

This isn’t quite right.

I want this Dream to mean something, but it’s all just nonsense.

I know my feet shouldn’t be dangling.

Because? ^{I'm miles away, he's on my mind, I'm getting tired of crawling all the way -}

Why doesn’t Father just carry me?

Mother tells Father to put me down. Suddenly, I feel like the Dream makes sense, but it doesn’t. I just know where I am now ^{but I don’t} and I know what we’re doing _{but it doesn’t make sense}.

We can’t just start It wouldn’t be fair.

Mother kneels in front of me and tells me I am right.

Suddenly, we’re laying down in our little flower field and wait for someone who isn’t coming. The house is gone but that doesn’t matter. Mother is to the left of me. Father is on the right. This is what I always want in my Dreams. To be between them. To have Parents again.

Careful creature
Made friends with time
He left her lonely with a diamond mind

It doesn’t feel fair that I’m not enjoying this. Even if it is a fantasy, I ought to be able to enjoy it.

Beside me Mother watches the stars. I watch the stars. And I’d like to be somewhere else. I want to be. But Mother only talks to me when I’m Dying. Not when I Dream. So I stay. Even if I look up and wonder where I want to go.

I want to hug her and be wherever She is,

Mother breathes deeply. Father has not said anything. I don’t want Him to be angry, and I’m beginning to think he is. He’d be angry if he knew. Even if Mother liked it. Even if she said I could ^{That which we call a rose}

I want him to say something, anything, just to find out how he feels,

“Do you understand my dear?” My Father says, “What I do. Is to save your –”

No, not that!

Not that, anything else.

Anything anything anything anything anything anything anything anything ^anything anything anything anything ANYTHING anything anything anything anything ANYTHING anything _anything anything ANYTHING anything ^eLs_e –

“Don’t you think he was happy with you, even after I died?”

No! No he wasn’t, ever, in our entire lives and it’s not fair that he’s angry with me just because he wasn’t happy it’s his fault I’m in this field he could’ve just let me and be unhappy alone –

“Oh my dear, you can‘t do both. Not with your arms tied behind your back …”

I know.

I know, I know.

I know that I am dreaming. Because it feels like a Song. One I can wander and get lost in, the way I so often do. I know this is a dream, a fleeting Song –

And it’s my whole heart, ^{While tried and tested, it's mine}

And it's my whole heart, ^{Trying to reach it out}

And it's my whole heart, ^{Burned but not buried this time}

I'm on trial, waiting 'til the beat comes o –

Mother doesn’t speak unless I’m Dying.

“Do you understand, my beautiful child?”

The fever broke.

I wake up with a start.

Panting, I reach up towards the roof above my bed, half expecting to see my hands shaking. No matter which way I turn them above me they feel steady. And I try to remember whatever it was that I had dreamed but I can’t keep it from slipping away from me.

One hand goes down to my forehead. It felt clammy, but it was cold.

The fever broke.

And it’s…

Early morning?

I look around my small bed, discover how I can barely see my shimmering jewels and hanging canopy linens beyond a bluish hue, and then I see how the sun has not yet peaked over the horizon through the cracks between the window curtain. Peaking over to where Su’ete’s bed is, I can discern the outline of his body.

It’s so early, that Su’ete is still asleep!

Grinning wildly, and before I can think myself out of it, I throw my sheets away and nearly fly across the room. If I’m quiet its only because I’m going so fast, and if I’m not tripping it’s only because Su’ete’s part of the room is organized, compared to my pack rat tendencies.

I nearly ram into what would pass for his mattress and then I discover an issue. His bed is ten times the size of mine. I look up to make sure he’s still sleeping, since now I’ve gotten it into my head to actually try to be sneaky.

He is. Su’ete, for all that he is a great warrior, sleeps knowing this is his den and that anyone foolish enough to try to kill him in his sleep would be dead by the time they touched the outside walls, let alone if they got lucky enough to get this close. He’d smell them in his sleep and then there would be a fresh coat of green paint on the walls.

I’ll have to climb it.

Hoisting myself up from one of his dangling furs I scale my way to the top of his mountainous bed. With every dig of my hands I pause a moment to check if he stirs – he doesn’t – and with every tug I slowly but surely reach my destination where the edge levels out flat. With a final pull I am victorious on top of the mountain peak.

Being sweaty won’t do, though, so I quickly wipe my forehead and gather my breath. Watching him, his chest puffing as he sleeps, Su’ete looks almost like a lion. Or a very big cat.

I smile.

And then I begin to shake him.

“a-A’ket!”

Exactly like a big, lazy cat, by the sound of the hissing yowl that leaps out of him.

I giggle.

“Kalei! I could have–”

I’ve never been berated before, and I don’t intend to find out how it’s like, so instead of letting him continue I take his massive (and heavy) hand and place it upon my forehead.

His slack-jawed expression makes me laugh.

“A’ket…” His eyes practically beam. Su’ete kneels in front of me fast enough to pull me into a tight bear hug, “You are well again, A’ket! You are going to be well – you are going to live – you –!”

I don’t know why I thought his reaction would be any less dramatic than any other thing he’s ever done, but I’m glad it is. It’s so different than how it was before, the first time he cured    me. We’re both different than how we were before. Everything is different. And for some reason this thought, more than anything else this entire winter season, brings me the most amount of peace. For once, my mind is blissfully quiet enough for me to enjoy this.

“You are going to live, my foolish little A’ket,” Su’ete breathes softly into my ear. I laugh again as he cuddles his cheeks against mine. I keep laughing as I hug his neck, hearing him say who knows what too fast for me to understand him.

I laugh so much that I almost cry.

Su’ete laughs, and he sounds relieved.

It’s not the kind of relief felt after evading disaster, not the kind of personal relief that a gamble had worked out favorably. It was unselfish.

I felt that he had worried for me not because I was his pet, or his prize, or because my voice was the only thing he valued. It was not an investment he had feared losing. It was evident in the waver in his voice, the tremors in every tendon and sinew as he held me there tightly wrapped around his giant arms.

Su’ete laughs, and he sounds Happy.

“Come, A’ket, we will have a grand feast in your honor!” Su’ete says in a bellowing voice as he lifts us both off his bed, “I want every corner decorated, the dining hall filled to serve fifty guests, and I want you buried under the finest silks and jewels!”

Su’ete spins me around and I can’t help but squeal in delight. He’s lost his mind, and so have I, as it would appear.

It’s like this that he parades me out of our room in what I believe was dancing, but I am too amused to ask. Shouting orders to the Aseigan to wake up and realize his impromptu party.

I am along for the ride, clinging to where I have wrapped my arms around his neck to hug him as Su’ete goes from room to room announcing that his A’ket is well again and that we are celebrating the fact. It doesn’t matter if there is no one in the rooms we enter, even his armory is treated to the news.

“Paya herself smiles upon my A’ket!” He declares for the hundredth time. I am getting dizzy with all this spinning, but I won’t spoil his fun.

Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather finally emerge from the shadows of the servants’ quarters. They look disheveled, what with the early hour, but awake enough to follow orders to the letter.

“I want her dressed exactly as we discussed earlier,” Su’ete tells him with certainty.

It piques my curiosity. Has he planned for my possible breakthrough? Before I can make a show of inquiry, he (for once!) lets me down gently so that I may stand on my own two feet. I am so delighted that I spin around for him, though without him to steady me I wobble under the dizziness from earlier.

Su’ete purrs, kneeling once again in front of me to better pet my head, “You may do whatever you like today, and I will not leave but to get whatever you ask for.”

He’s being silly, but I am too fond of him at the moment to care.

Hugging Su’ete once more, I am ushered away by Flora and Fauna.

Once we are in the privacy of the bathing room, Merryweather begins to purr.

My three fairy godmothers go to work as they would’ve normally done before I got sick. Only now it’s more exciting than it used to be. For one, instead of doing things to me as they once did, silent and efficient machinations sent to task, they’ve become much more involved in asking for my opinion.

Fauna rolls out some red cloth for me to look at, of varying textiles and shades. She looks at me expectantly from where I’m finishing my bath (finally, I can bathe myself again!) and I think she looks cute sitting next to my selections. The red compliments her scales, even if they’re molt-y, and she’s wide eyed as if she’s being allowed to do something fun, for once. I pick the red silky one, it shimmers nicely in the light.

By way of drying me off, Fauna starts to tailor it around me. I think I’ve grown in my time of wearing comfortable pajamas, because she’s engrossed in taking new measurements.

In the meanwhile, Flora starts putting all sorts of jewelry up against the fabric, as if to ask me what I don’t mind adding, weights as they are to me. I like the emeralds more than the jade this time around. I’m feeling sparkly today. Flora seems delighted by my choice and starts to at once to put on my arm bands and rings, going up until she reaches my neck. Every so often she leans back to examine her handiwork and adds something or other.

Finally, when my outfit is done, I sit down so Merryweather can comb through my hair and cut my frayed ends. She adds some golden twine to twist into my braids. They make my hair shine with the rest of me and will probably stay in place until the next time Merryweather does my hair.

It occurs to me that her tools aren’t typical for Yautja, that they are probably one of the many things Su’ete must have commissioned for me. Even though it was probably a practical decision, I still think it was nice of him. And Merryweather has been good at using them since she started taking care of me. I don’t remember ever seeing her hesitate or fumble.

By the time Merryweather is on my last braid, Flora is just about done strapping up my sandals and Fauna has wrapped a belt of golden coins around my waist.

They step back to admire their work, beaming for the first time.

I smile back at them. They look happy.

Happy…

At their handiwork, maybe. But. As much as I have grown fond of them, I think it’s safe to assume that the feeling is mutual.

It’s safe with them.

Still smiling, I start to dance for them. Spinning as every little bounce creates music of its own, every bracelet starting to jingle from my arms to my feet, and every coin chiming against my waist. I realize that there’s a bell at the end of each braid as my hair flies everywhere I move. It’s charming. I think for once I feel beautiful.

I also trip and fall.

This dancing thing is difficult.

Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather rush to every side of me, cooing and trilling from their concerned chests. By the time they’re kneeling around me and checking every limb I burst out laughing.

The coos turn to gentle purrs – and I realize that it’s louder than when Merryweather does it alone. Everyone is purring. And as it dawns on me I smile at Flora and Fauna.

Flora seems scandalized at herself, but Fauna gives me her wide-eyed expression once more. It feels nice. Knowing that they feel like Merryweather does. That they all care about me the same amount. The same way I care about them. We’ve grown into it.

Merryweather makes the decision that I will live through my injury and motioning to her sisters the three of them help me to my feet, smoothing out every wrinkle and stray hair. With a final once over, the four of us step out.

Me at the front, and the three of them two steps behind me.

Su’ete is better than his word.

He said that he wanted every corner of his palace decorated as if we were having a party, and true to form the Aseigan have worked their magic. In the time it took me to get ready, the parlor has completely transformed into a thing of beauty. Every torch was ablaze, bouncing light onto the glittering diamonds that served as lamp headings. The sheer tapestries that were wrapped above the roof were unfolded and made to hang low, their beaded crystal drawstrings decorative in their own right as they swung gently in the wind. There were petals of every alien type of fauna imaginable scattered on the floor I walked on. The air smelled like spices.

I was awestruck, taking it all in as I turned around and around.

“I seemed to have failed, A’ket.”

I jumped toward the direction of Su’ete’s voice, finding him arms crossed and amused from where he stood watching me.

I can’t imagine how he’d consider all this a failure.

Laughing at my bewilderment, Su’ete picks me up, “You are still the most resplendent even among all the splendor that I own.”

He’s incorrigible. I can’t help but laugh.

“Come, we will dine and I expect you to eat every piece,” He already has me trapped in his arms, so I can hardly protest when he starts making way towards the dining hall. Perhaps sensing my exasperation at his insistence both in carrying and feeding me, Su’ete adds, “Afterwards, I have a surprise for you that I believe you will like.”

Well, then. Maybe I can indulge him a little.

Su’ete chuckles again, in his chattering way, and we both pretend that I am not dying of curiosity.

The dining table is filled to the max with foods, drinks, and dishes I have never seen before, even on Earth or since my stay on the Yautja planet. It’s like a carpet spread before me and the sheer magnificence of it all.

Surely he doesn’t expect me to eat all of this at once.

I give him an incredulous look.

Su’ete pats my head, “I assure you that for once you will not object to having a meal.”

Doubtful. But I keep my suspicions to myself.

He sits me down on one of the high chairs, a practice Su’ete has begun since I got sick (so that he could better feed me) but unlike when I was a delirious mess, I can finally appreciate the freedom this gives me to pick and choose.

I reach over to whatever looks edible enough not be a fanciful decoration and take a bite out of a white and soft looking cake.

Oh.

Oh, it’s like sugar and cream!

Su’ete hides his amusement at my enraptured expression, but I can hardly be annoyed when I keep reaching for these strange delights and finding that each one is sweeter than the last. He never said that they’d be delicious! He’s devious.

I wonder how he knew I would enjoy sweets. It’s not something we usually have, Naxa and other fruits none withstanding. I didn’t think it would be something that Yautja would partake in, and some of these looked baked instead of grown so they must be societal concoctions.

Looking at Su’ete, I found he was quietly munching on some scraps of meat. I found it incredible that he hasn’t told me to eat some protein, in favor of indulging my sweet tooth.

Well, it won’t do.

I take a piece of what I assume is alien chocolate (it’s bitter but in a deceptively rich way) and stand up to reach over to over it in front of his open mouth.

Su’ete looks scandalized.

Which is absurd considering how often he feeds me, and I’m not even the master of the house.

“All this is for you, A’ket, you do not have to share it.”

Nonsense. I insist until he reluctantly accepts the would-be chocolate. Seeing his face go from slightly bewildered to incredibly grateful the minute he takes a bite confirms my theory that everyone in the universe loves chocolate.

I try to keep from laughing, since he did as much for me.

Jumping down form my chair –

“A’ket be careful –”

 – I quickly gather a giant plate full of sweets and tug on Su’ete’s arm until he follows me down to my nest by the lake.

Today I get to do whatever I want, after all.

I throw some of my pillows next to my large cushion and pat them down until he realizes that I want him to sit down next to me. Su’ete obliges, watching the rain with me like we did when he brought the syringe. Only this time it isn’t here to bother either of us.

I offer to feed him more cake, which he accepts. Su’ete even makes a show of throwing some up and catching them between his mandibles, making me laugh. I let him feed me some as well, and we spend breakfast like this until the entire plate is empty.

After our hearty breakfast, Su’ete takes me on his lap, staring at me with great suspicion, “You tricked me.”

I did.

“You were supposed to eat it all by yourself.”

I was.

“And now I am not sure I will give you the surprise I had planned.”

I didn’t trick him, actually, there has been a grave misunderstanding.

Watching my distress, Su’ete chuckles and nudges his forehead against mine, “You are terrible. I cannot deny you anything.”

I smile.

Su’ete takes his revenge by lifting me up for the hundredth thousandth time and carrying me out the dining hall and into the parlor.

The beauty of it hitting me once again, I can do no more than admire it. It’s magnificent. And my cage –

Oh.

My cage!

It has been surrounded by all sorts of marvelous things. Patting Su’ete on his shoulder, I beg to be let down, and he obliges my eagerness, chuckling as I run to examine everything all at once.

There are curtains and jewels I have never seen before, pillows with pictures embroidered in them that remind me of my first little pillow that I have liked for ages and took care of because I only had one, until now. There is a ball of red igneous rock that glows purple when I hold it, and a box that winds up – but instead of a jack-in-the-box popping out, several holographic galaxies appear before me depending on which node I hit; each one so expansive that I have to lay down in order to see how far it goes above me.

There are little glowing lights all around the bars of my little golden cage, diming and brightening as if alive. Hanging from one string of lights, is an odd little stick that I pull free. Drawing over my hand with it as if it were a pen, I found that whatever I made glowed under their light but faded when I pulled it away. Giggling, I pulled more things from overhead, ribbons that I could spin above me, and it seemed to hold shape effortlessly, several scarves – one with bells, another with golden hoops, and still more with beads and jewels.

It all seemed too much.

It was probably too much, for all I knew, but I didn’t let it stop me from enjoying it.

I took one of the musically inclined scarves, wrapping it around me and dancing all I wanted as I Sung myself something to keep time. Not just something, but finding myself in the mood to be Caroling once more.

Throwing up one of the ribbons in the air as I spin around, my laughter begins to mix in every cheerful verse until I fall back unto my cage bed.

Instead of one of my new cushions and furs, I find my head perched upon Su’ete’s lap again, himself staring down at me with amusement.

Su’ete laughs, “Someone get her surprise before she exhausts herself.”

All this wasn’t the surprise?

Sitting back up, I find one of the male Aseigan (his name is Grumpy) wrestling with a rope at the entrance. He pulls it until I start to hear little growls and…

Barking?

Grumpy falls as the culprit of the noises comes running towards me, flanked by two of the other seven Aseigan. I gasp as the little thing yelps and leaps its way to my little cage, making a mess all over the floor. Su’ete catches it by the scruff before I can even reach for it and begins scolding it something fierce – and by that I mean he growls it into silence.

It is the ugliest thing I have ever seen and I love it with all my heart.

The little Yautja hound is nothing more than a puppy – and it looks the size of one in Su’ete’s hands. It begins to whine pathetically and I feel so much tenderness in its voice that I shake Su’ete’s free arm, imploring him to take pity on the little thing.

“Don’t get soft with it,” Su’ete says, dropping it onto my lap.

The puppy shakes its tendril mane from Su’ete’s rough handling, and then all at once it begins licking my face and yapping up a storm. I hug it, laughing at the nasal little breaths it takes. It is much larger in my arms than in Su’ete’s hands, but I can manage.

Above us, I can hear Su’ete let out a stern huff, “She will make sure you keep out of trouble when I am away.”

He says so, but I doubt his reasons were actually that practical. I look up at him with a grateful, if a little knowing, smile.

Su’ete begins to purr despite himself, petting my head.

The puppy also purrs though it is far more baritone than the deep bass of Su’ete. I look back down to find that she is licking her pug-like face as she stares up at me with her huge adorable eyes.

“She is the runt of a litter. Usually, runts are killed because they are not as effective for hunting, but there is less risk that she will harm you, so I had her spared.”

The poor thing. I can’t imagine anyone looking at something so small and helpless and declaring her a lost cause. I suppose we’re the same in that regard.

“Her handler certainly bartered for her, regardless…” Su’ete mutters, and I thought it was funny how annoyed he was at this obstinate dog handler, whoever they are, “Just be firm with her. If you get hurt for any reason, she will go right back where she came from and I will not be persuaded no matter what you do with your eyes.”

I nodded seriously, before breaking out into a delighted grin. Su’ete rolls his eyes at me, but purrs again as I snuggle up on his lap with my new pet.

I’ve decided to name her Flounder.

Realistically, I know a Yautja hound, even a runt, is just as likely to kill me as anything else on this planet can.

The same can be said of Su’ete, however, and he’s gone out of his way not to. Just the opposite, in fact, what with his efforts to prolong my life as much as possible. So, I don’t feel particularly worried about Flounder. Everyone else in this house already likes me, and I adore her, so I don’t think there is going to be much risk going forward.

Besides, we all seem to be getting along.

“This one grows the Naxa you seem to like so much,” Su’ete says, ushering me beneath the umbrella of a gargantuan tree in what serves as his backyard.

I reach up to one of the low-hanging branches and pull down a particularly juicy looking one. I throw it at Flounder, and she fetches it, making splashes in the pools left behind by the rain.

One thing I’ve been dying to do for ages is to go out into the gardens and the lake.

The rains have stopped; though the clouds have not broken up, it was enough for Su’ete to agree to this little tour. He shows me around the wild gardens, and I discover there are two greenhouses for the farmland that grows whatever else he might need that the trees outside do not provide.

Flounder shakes her wet mane. I’m about as drenched as possible.

“She stays inside, next time,” Su’ete threatens.

I frown at him disapprovingly, and he shakes his head up in silent prayer at my defense of her, already so ardent. There’s hardly any harm in her just drying off.

Though I am glad that he said there would be a next time.

Usually, I’m confined to inside the house. I can go wherever I want inside but knowing there was an outside world that Su’ete owned had made me yearn to be outside since I got here. Even when we go to parties, I can’t really see anything, but here –

The lake shines up ahead, and I get a wonderful idea.

I run ahead of Su’ete, with Flounder keeping up with me as we both race to where the lake lies waiting.

“A’ket, be careful or you will trip – !”

I try not to feel too bad, the ground is still wet after all and he sounds genuinely concerned – its just that he’s about to be absolutely furious with what I have planned.

Me and Flounder jump into the lake, making the biggest splash imaginable.

I am submerged long enough to appreciate the light coming through the water, before floating up easily. Once above, Flounder starts trying to tug me to the safety of the lake’s edge.

She doesn’t get too far before we both realize that Su’ete is already mid-dive after us.

His splash is much bigger than ours had been.

When he comes back up, Su’ete does not at all look happy.

I scream as he lunges for me, but start to laugh once he wraps one of his massive arms around my waist as he wades us both to shore.

“You terrible little thing,” Su’ete says after he sits me down on dry land, “You did it so that we would all be wet.”

I stick my tongue out at him.

He drags me to the water again, splashing around as much as he can manage with me safe in his arms, “I could drown you myself and save you the trouble of making me worry!”

I fall into a fit of giggles, both because he’s unintentionally tickling me every time he swings me around and because he won’t actually drown me, no matter how annoying I am. Flounder can’t tell the difference yet, so she yelps courageously in my defense.

Su’ete pauses long enough to huff, placing his forehead against the back of my head, “I did not know you could float, A’ket.”

When I was very little, floating in a pool was about the only thing that would make my headaches go away no matter how bad they got. Eventually, I got too sick to keep doing it, but I never forgot how.

I didn’t mean for Su’ete to worry, as much as I like it when he pretends to be mad at me, so I wiggle out of his arms to show him that there wasn’t any danger. I’m not a strong swimmer, but I’m hardly the worst.

Su’ete’s muscles relax.

And then he splashes me square in the face.

I sputter out water as Su’ete laughs in front of me.

Well, so much for his concern!

I try to return his rudeness, but I can’t get my own splashes much higher than his chest, which only serves to make Su’ete laugh louder. If his feet weren’t buried into the lakebed I would’ve been able to push him into the water, but even that attempt fails.

He’s the terrible one, not me!

Amused, Su’ete forgets he was upset at me and picks me up high enough so that I am sitting in his arms above the water.

“Let’s dry you off,” he says, wading us to the open dining hall.

We find a more disposable cloth to pat me dry with in the kitchen, which Su’ete generously rubs into my hair despite my protests. Perhaps because of them, since he’s taken to bullying me now.

I take another such discarded cloth and do as much back to him, and for once Su’ete is kneeling close enough so I can use gravity against him.

Su’ete falls to his back. Flounder licks his face, annoying him.

I laugh at them both.

“I suppose I deserved that.”

I nod.

Su’ete pulls me down next to him. Flounder licks my face.

“Devise something more clever, next time.”

He’s the worst.

But he’s also warm, and all my brilliant gold and jewelry has become cold against my skin, so I do Su’ete the great favor of sticking close to him – which he appreciates by purring against me. There’s a window on the roof, and if the day had been nicer, we would’ve been able to see the sky.

“Are you hungry yet?” Su’ete asks after a while. I nod, and he gets up with a grunt before offering his hand for me to take, “Good. There is still much left over from this morning.”

I suppose it’s not so bad to have dessert for dinner.

The dining table is in fact still full by the time we get there, and while I go to sit in my nest by the lake Su’ete manages to carry two separate plates for us to eat. He offers me one, looking satisfied that I won’t trick him a second time.

Flounder starts begging for scraps.

“Eat, A’ket.”

One day he’ll let this obsession go.

Disheartened, my new puppy goes back outside. We watch her paw at one of the large floating flowers until she traps a petal between her maw and chomps down.

I shoot Su’ete a questioning glance, wondering if he’s letting my dog get poisoned.

“It eats the bacteria in the lake and keeps it clean,” he explains, “Which is just as well, as I doubt you would have been laughing if a parasite had slithered into the empty space where your brain is supposed to be.”

I stuck my tongue out at him again. He squeezes my nose between his fingers.

“It is perfectly safe for your annoying little pet to eat.”

Good.

I eat several sweets in a row to thank him. Su’ete chuffs, but his upper tusks smile upward.

Above us, I see the clouds finally give way.

It’s a beautiful sunset.

“It should sleep in the cookery.”

Maybe she should, but that’s mean, so I don’t want her to.

It’s past midnight and now that my fairy godmothers have undone their magic on my person, we’ve retired back to our room – where Su’ete is trying to persuade me to let go of Flounder, but there’s enough room in my bed for the both of us. I didn’t sleep in the kitchen when I first got here, so neither should she.

“You will be the death of me, Kalei,” Su’ete groans, touching our foreheads together.

I smile, knowing he’s given in, I let go of Flounder and she leaps into running circles where she wants to sleep. Before she even collapses, she starts snoring, exhausted from her first day in her new home.

Su’ete hands me a long, chrome whistle, “Use this to teach it some manners.”

I take it, smiling.

Su’ete moves to sit on the floor in front of me, and for a moment I think he wants to tuck me in, as bizarre as that would be. Instead, he hardly looks at me, choosing instead to play with a small velvet bag he’s had between his hands since I stepped out of the bathing room.

I’ve never seen him this pensive.

Su’ete smiles at my worried expression, pushing my hair back behind my ear.

“Did you like today, A’ket?”

I nod.

I don’t think I can remember having had a day this fun, if only because I’ve never been able to have one before today.

“I am glad,” Su’ete says, and it sounds as though he means it, “You…”

He trails off, unable to finish his thought as his earlier apprehension returns. He looks down at his bag again. My concern grows. I wonder if he looks tired because of the day we spent or because of my health. I’d hate for it to be about the latter. It doesn’t seem fair to me, for others to constantly worry about my health.

“You were not – ” He tries, but stops all the same, and I can tell he’s becoming frustrated with himself. It’s not like him to not say what he means, when he means it. Su’ete leans his head back against the wall and looks away from me, “Happy.”

My eyes widen.

Su’ete’s hand clenches around the bag, “The day I asked you if you wanted more of my blood, you were not happy, even when I thought you were. You started to cry again, once the Aseigan left.”

The night I pretended my parents were alive.

Of course.

I felt bad about it enough at the time. Worse still when I had thought he was upset at me because of it. Fitting, that it’s actually the reason Su’ete can’t bring himself to look at me. Why should he. I just needed to stay put and not make my feelings his problem – and I spectacularly failed step one.

“I wanted to know why,” He continued, “Then I realized all your Songs have been about the same thing, and it made you sad.”

I didn’t think it mattered.

What did it matter, if I were happy or not. Why did Su’ete care?

All I had to do for him was –

Sing.

I didn’t like it. The idea that this entire day was a waste of time. That Su’ete only did all this so his little bird would not be sad.

All the wonderful things I been given were meant simply to appease me, and it worked, because I projected all sorts of foolish notions of affection. They were like pomegranate seeds, and I ate them up because I’m not used to living. All I’ve ever known was how to die, slowly and painfully, and it doesn’t take much to do either.

“I found out about your little Ooman holiday,” Su’ete says, and I freeze. I don’t know what I want him to say, just that I look at him and he looks. Scared. Almost.

“I thought if I gave it to you, then you would be well again.”

I don’t know what I am supposed to feel – relief, maybe, but I don’t. I’m confused. To the point of frustration and I don’t understand why.

Why does he care?

Why does he care. Why does he keep trying to get me to feel safe? That wasn’t the deal he made with my Father. When he bought me and called it a kindness.

Why does he try so hard.

Su’ete seems to laugh at repeating what he said this morning, about me being well again, only in vastly different context. I want to laugh at the prospect of ever being well. But neither of us do. Instead, we sit in nervous silence, and I watch him play with the velvet bag in his hands.

I start to wonder what’s in it. That made him say all this.

It’s not like him. To sit so still. To be silent. I’ve seen him agitated, but even that had energy behind it. I could soothe that with a Song. I don’t think it would work here.

Even if I could Sing. And I don’t think I can. I feel as fidgety as that bag in his hands.

Tentatively. Carefully. I reach for it.

He stills under my touch.

I don’t think I meant to reach for the bag. Not really.

Slowly, Su’ete relaxes. His hand holding mine. I’m glad he’s not shaking anymore, because I don’t want him to feel the way I did. Before I met him and was Dying.

I was always shaking. In the past. Because death was a certainty, but that didn’t mean it was kind enough to tell me when it would come. It scared me. Not knowing when I would die.

I don’t have much reason to be scared anymore.

Su’ete holds my hand. And though he still doesn’t look at me. He runs his thumb over my knuckles. Tightening his grip, as if to keep me.

The velvet bag slips from his open palm to mine.

I look at him. As if to ask whether he meant to give it to me.

Instead of speaking, Su’ete folds my hand over it.

I pull away, just enough to hold it between both of my hands. It’s purple, and I feel the texture between my fingers and discover that it’s soft. Whatever’s inside it, its like it’s barely there, and I can’t for the life of me imagine what it could be.

“You can open it.”

I nod. Absently. I don’t know if I want to. I don’t want him to think I wanted it, if he hadn’t planned on giving it to me. And yet…

I pull on the string that opens it at the top. It must be important. Or else why would he act like this? It has to be.

I turn the bag over.

A necklace falls into my hand.

Confused. I peer at it. Its pendant is a shimmering little thing. Its metal isn’t the silver or gold that I usually wear. But for some reason it’s familiar. The wings appear to fly upward. Free, it seemed to me. And so unlike the wings I have seen on this planet.

It’s a bird.

A Canary.

“I made it for you,” Su’ete says, voice softer than I had ever heard it, “When I finished, however, I did not like it…I did not feel like it was enough. So, I bought you everything else.”

It’s beautiful.

“Do you like it, A’ket?”

I look a him with tears in my eyes.

God, I miss my Father.

I miss Him, more than I can possibly explain. And I don’t know why Su’ete tries. Only that he does. It would be easier if he didn’t. I could hate him.

Instead, Su’ete tells me he wanted to give me Christmas. So I wouldn’t be sad. So I wouldn’t have to cry about my parents. And that he didn’t think that something he made would be enough for me – the person he treats like a person, instead of a pet.

He even wrapped it.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry, A’ket, I’m –”

I leaped into Su’ete’s arms. Hugging him.

I didn’t realize I was crying. But it makes sense. Even when I make myself miserable, Su’ete catches me. Holds me tightly.

I don’t know why Su’ete tries, but I know he cares. And that’s enough.

It’s more than enough.

“I failed again,” Su’ete breathes against my ear.

I pull away to look at him. Incredulous to his self-deprecating ways.

Sue thinks it’s funny, running his claws through my hair, “I wanted to give you all this and make you happy, but you already were, when you woke me to tell me your fever broke.”

I was.

I was Happy.

I wanted to tell him, I was excited to tell him. To surprise him. I spent the entire day blissfully unaware of my own Happiness, because knowing would have spoiled it.

“I wanted your Happiness, yet nothing I could give you made it so,” Su’ete says, looking at me with sad green eyes, “I don’t know what did, and in the end, you gave it to me freely. I can give you nothing in return.”

That’s not true.

I think of all the things Sue has given me. And it almost overwhelms me.

He saved my life. He gave me a home. More than the things he gave me, he carved out a space for me to live. To breathe. I could’ve been a little bird in a cage, and yet, for some inexplicable reason Sue started to care for me. For my Happiness.

I don’t understand him, how someone could take a little girl from her Father and then turn around and try to mend her broken heart.

I can’t do both.

Closing my eyes. I think of my Mother.

She was right. The more I try to, the harder it is. It could kill me, and then what would be the point? What’s the point.

When I met Sue, he bruised my right shoulder taking me to his alien ship. And now he holds me like I’m too delicate for him to touch, feeling sorry that all his wealth couldn’t buy my Happiness, that he wasn’t even confident enough to forge a bird for me, and call it worthy.

I can’t do both.

So, I won’t.

I wrap the chain of my new necklace around my neck. Letting the pendant. The Canary. Hang close to my heart. 

Sue lets out a laugh, “You have more magnificent things, A’ket’anu’Kalei, you do not have to humor me.”

I’m not. I don’t like any of it more than this thing he thinks is not enough.

I kiss Su’ete on the cheek. And he purrs, touching our foreheads together like he likes to do.

It’s a gentle action. And I like knowing he’s capable of gentleness, of kindness, whenever I may need him to be.

“This is supposed to be your day, you foolish little thing,” Su’ete pulls away, albeit with a reluctant softness in his eyes, “and you keep trying to best me.”

It’s Christmas, not my birthday.

“Go to sleep, A’ket,” he says with finality, petting my head.

Smiling with a new idea, I go back to my too small bed where Flounder has claimed the foot end of it for her own. Somehow, I manage to crawl deep enough so that there is space for Sue. He said I could have whatever I wanted, and this is the last thing.

Su’ete looks at me, amused again, if a little tired, “You must have lost your little mind when you jumped into the lake.”

Perhaps.

I pat the space beside me.

Chuckling, exhausted, Su’ete sits into the space I’ve made for him.

Though his legs stick out uncomfortably, he fills up the space that my entire body squeezes into. We manage by a miracle not to disturb Flounder in any way.

Satisfied. I lay down, and Sue does in fact tuck me in, to the best of his ability. I don’t think he’s ever done this before, as his idea of doing so is to suffocate me under layers and layers of thick fur. We end up laughing about it, once I’ve pushed off as much as he’s added on.

Su’ete runs his knuckles over my forehead, gently, as I often imagined he did in my fever dreams, “You are Happy, are you not, A’ket?”

I’ve decided to be. I’ve been Happy all day. So there isn’t much point to pretending otherwise.

“You would tell me, if you were not,” he doesn’t phrase it like a question, but the intent is still there.

I’m not sure. Su’ete seems to want everything at once, and I’m still working on the details. I don’t want to be unhappy, but I cannot guarantee I could tell him if I ever find reason to be.

It makes me as anxious to consider it as it makes him as anxious not to know. We are like jagged pieces of a strange puzzle and I’m not at all sure what kind of picture we will make out, in the end.

Instead of answering, I take Sue’s hand between my own. Keeping it beside my head.

It’s enough for Su’ete, and he begins to purr. He stares down at me like I’m charming, but by morning I’ll find a way to terrorize him, and break the spell.

Tired. I close my eyes. Feeling him as he seems to lull me to sleep. There will be enough time, to figure things out.

That night. I dream of my flower field. Where I am often with my Mother. And my Father.

Su’ete is there.

And I am Happy.