Work Text:
Neroon sighed, happy to be out of the meeting with the new Shai Alyt and on his way home. These meetings had been so much easier the previous decade, when his daughter had known him well enough to know when to fight him and when to grant his requests. Her successor was not so enlightened in the ways of diplomacy; the young Fire Wing was a dedicated and capable Warrior, but he hadn’t quite yet grown into the demands of his position. Neroon supposed he himself was probably also being a stubborn old goat, resistant to change. Which only made this most recent meeting even more necessary, as glad as he was that it was over. It was more than time for the issue to have been addressed.
He brought the small, one-man transport he’d borrowed from the estate for the day into a smooth landing, shutting it down swiftly and making his way towards their rooms. It had been nearly sixty years, and still he disliked being away from his mala for any length of time. He thought it actually might be getting worse, as their time together grew shorter. Oh, neither of them would die anytime soon, barring accident, but they had more years behind them than ahead now and both men knew it.
Reaching his destination, Neroon entered their rooms quietly and paused just inside the door. Marcus was planted firmly on the floor, their first grandchild safely caged in by pillows. The human was pretending to hide behind a variety of improbable objects that certainly didn’t succeed in concealing him, then popping out and making faces at the baby. Neroon couldn’t imagine what on Minbar he was trying to accomplish, and from the expression on his face, neither could young Shakat.
“Marcus?” Neroon asked after a long moment spent staring amusedly at his mala.
“Neroon!” Marcus jumped slightly, then blushed. “This… er… isn’t what it looks like?” Marcus tried.
Neroon shook his head, doing a poor job of hiding his amusement. “If I had any idea what it was supposed to look like, that might help,” he admitted.
Marcus flushed harder. “I was trying to play peek-a-boo, but it wasn’t quite working… apparently another difference I didn’t know about,” he said. “I’m never going to master all the ways Minbari children aren’t like human children.”
Neroon gave in to his laughter, moving further into the room to seize Marcus and the baby in a gentle hug. “Don’t even try,” he begged. “Moments like this are far too precious to me.”
Marcus chuckled in response, seeing the hilarious side of the entire situation easily. “I’m glad. You’re back earlier than I expected; I thought Fara would beat you back. She and Rastenn went to the shipyard to inspect their new ship. It won’t be ready for another cycle or so, but they want to be in on every phase of the construction.”
Neroon nodded. “An admirable goal. An Alyt should know every bolt and screw of their ship, if possible. I knew the Ingata better than I knew my own hand, when I took command of her, and only grew to know her better over the years.”
Marcus smiled. “Human captains are the same way about their vessels. I suppose I never understood the need, since I was never a captain, and ships for me tended to simply be ways from one place to another. And were often destroyed by whatever I was asking of them, anyway.”
Neroon grinned. “I have seen the statistics at the training facility in Tuzan’oore, my love. You still hold the record for greatest number of damaged and destroyed transports of any modern Anla’shok.”
“It’s good to be accomplished at something,” Marcus grinned, and seemed about to say more when the door chime rang. Neroon moved to answer it as Marcus began gathering up the baby and his accompanying paraphernalia, at least the bits of it that weren’t permanent additions to their quarters these days.
“Dad!” Fara exclaimed when she saw who had opened the door. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon. How was your meeting with the Shai Alyt?”
“Satisfactory,” Neroon smiled. “The matters we needed to discuss were dealt with more swiftly than I expected, and I was able to make it back in good time. How goes the construction on the Starfire?”
Fara’s eyes shone. “You should see her, dad. She’s a beautiful ship, clean lines, the very latest in Vorlon-inspired organic tech. It’s like she reads your mind. I couldn’t ask for a better ship; I can barely imagine what she’ll be like to command, but it’ll be amazing. Did you want to keep Shakat for a while? I know you haven’t seen him much recently, with all of the council meetings you’ve had.”
Neroon shook his head. “No, thank you daughter. Maybe later this week, but for now I would rather have your papa to myself for an evening. My grandson is not the only one I have been neglecting of late.”
Fara smirked as Marcus blushed, having arrived at the door with baby and bag just in time to hear Neroon’s last remark. “Well, I shall leave you to enjoy your evening then, and take this little one home to get him fed. Thanks again, papa. I keep meaning to give you advance notice before needing you for babysitting duty, but somehow I never manage it.”
Marcus smiled and hugged her, easily transferring her son into her arms at the same time. “It’s not a problem, daughter. I scarcely have anything better to do these days, when I’m not teaching, and I’m happy to spend time with him.”
“Still. Next time, I’ll give you at least an hour!” Fara promised with a smile, before vanishing down the hallway to the sounds of a babbled, half-intelligible conversation. Shakat would certainly be a talker when he grew up, judging by his early habits.
“Well,” Marcus smiled, leaning into Neroon’s arms as the door closed, shutting them in their own quiet rooms for the night.
“Well what?” Neroon wondered, enjoying the simple joy of his husband in his arms.
“Deep subject,” Marcus responded. “Turn it sideways, you’ve got a tunnel.”
Neroon chuckled. “Someday, I will stop being surprised by the things you say. But I hope that day is a long time from now.”
Marcus smiled his agreement, but remained silent, simply enjoying the moment. He’d gotten much quieter, especially in private, as the years passed and the manic energy of his youth had transformed itself into a mature competence and deep contentment with his life. Much as Neroon had fallen in love with the young firebrand, he found the depth of his affection for this older, quieter version unparalleled even by the fires of their courtship.
“I retired,” the Minbari said after the silence had stretched comfortably for a long moment. “I gave up my seat on the Council of Elders.”
Marcus just nodded. “I suspected as much, when you said you needed to have a private meeting with the Shai Alyt. But why? You’re the eldest straight-line descendant in the Clan. Isn’t giving your place to another, when you are still a powerful and capable Warrior, a bit unprecedented?”
Neroon shrugged. “Yes. But Marcus, I have changed the world more than once. We have both done our duty to the Clan, the Caste, and the universe, and done it well. You are more than ninety years old now; I’m well past one hundred and twenty cycles. I would rather spend time with you, while we are both still strong and capable, than miss any single day by spending it on more duty. Duty has had more than a century of dedication and hard work from me; I wish now to rest, to train some of the young Warriors who show promise, to dote on my grandchild and any siblings of his that may come along, and to fade into history.”
Marcus reached up and kissed him gently, heart in his beautiful green eyes, as yet undimmed by time. “I suppose now would be a good moment to mention that I told the Rangers I wouldn’t be returning to teach when the next year of classes begins, then? We are both of us free of duty now.”
Grinning with happiness, Neroon spun his husband carefully around the toys and cushions scattered about the floor. “How shall we celebrate such freedom, my heart?”
Marcus’ eyes twinkled. “Well, I could teach you peek-a-boo,” he suggested with a wicked smile.
Neroon threw his head back and laughed, feeling the weight of his years melt away. He may not have many left, but he knew already they would be full of light and joy with this man at his side. “Never change, Marcus,” he gasped through his laughter. “Oh, your human differences are still such a joy to me. Never ever change, not in any lifetime when we are lucky enough to find each other.”
Marcus’ expression softened, the smile deeply loving and happy. “I never will,” he promised, and sealed it with a kiss.
