dejah_thoris | Midnight in the Jeddak's Garden

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Midnight in the Jeddak's Garden

[cont'd from here]

She holds him through the worst of it. Holds him and rocks him gently, her mind racing to come up with some kind of solution, any solution. There isn't one, she knows. She can feel his agony as if it were her own, and in a way, it is now, isn't it? She feels the tears on her cheeks and lets them fall. Grief is the strongest enemy she's ever vanquished.

But she's done it before, and she knows she can do it again.

She doesn't know how long they've been sitting there when she notices a telltale ripple in the air. It's just inches above the wood of her door. It takes a moment to resolve, and before it does, she recognizes the portal and knows where it opens to. She can smell the pimalias and the blessed cool of the moss trees beyond. The night sky above Helium is crystal clear.

Gingerly she urges his gaze up. Her voice is gentle and warm. "Hey. Can you smell that?"

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She speaks slowly, and he can hear the pride and yes, love in her voice. "Three hundred and forty three species of lichens, fungi, and proper plants. Grasses and low scrub and the like. Twelve major species of flowering trees, which are much like Earth's trees, save for the symbiotic nature of their interaction with the interspecies bacteria. Fourteen carnivorous plants. Small ones, easily kept fed and contained, no worries there. And one hydra, which is somewhere between a plant and an animal. We keep it well-fed so it never needs to move on. It seems very happy up here."

Curtis basks in the joy unfurling around them, unable to contain the soft smile that emerges as Dejah's emotions mingle with his own. He can hear a close cousin of the light that illuminated her out in the meadow. Her mind revels in building things, in discovering something new; this is another project brought to careful, beautiful fruition, and he can't help but revel in it, too.

"Is the hydra carnivorous too?"

"Opportunistic, I would say. Omnivorous. It scavenges, though if one is hungry enough, it's been observed to go after living prey. It can defend itself adequately though, so I wouldn't risk handling it without gloves."

She sighs and, after a moment's consideration, wraps an around his shoulders, leaning back against the gentle curve of the bench.

She points up in the sky. "That's Cluros." She points to the larger moon. "And that's Thuria." The smaller one. "They're called the Lovers."

Fitting that their light should bless their first moments together on Barsoom.

"Oh." The quiet wonder returns to his voice. He might be thinking the same thing: fitting, indeed.

(It's just them. It's all right.)

"You, um -- " A tinge of embarrassment creeps in. "You probably already know this. But we've only got the one moon on Earth."

"Luna, yes. The virgin huntress, pursued endlessly across the heavens by her suitors." She grins at the thought. How utterly ridiculous. One moon.

"But you've walked on your moon, so there's that. We have yet to achieve space flight. But someday."

"Someday," he murmurs in agreement. "You could start small. Satellites. Rovers like the ones we sent up here before -- "

Curtis stops, blinking in surprise at the memory's unannounced arrival.

Dejah's eyebrows rise and she blinks a few times.

"You know about the probes?"

"Yeah." He still sounds a bit stunned that he does remember. "There was...one of them landed the year I was born. I remember."

A long beat.

Softer, "My mom told me about it."

She presses an idle kiss to the top of his head, gives him a gentle hug.

"I've been doing my best to keep them -- isolated. Jasoom is not ready to know about us yet. And the Thern... I am not ready to do battle with them again. Not yet, at least."

Curtis manages a faint smile. "I was gonna ask. Think it would've been bigger news if they'd found life up here."

Big enough that even Curtis would remember it, he's sure. Big enough that, maybe, everyone would've turned their eyes toward Barsoom instead of Wilford when Earth began to freeze.

Then the rest of what she's saying clicks.

"...Are the Thern on Earth?"

She sits back a bit, her gaze looking out to the horizon. He can feel her demeanor sharpen, like a sword being unsheathed. She licks her lips and drags a hand through her hair.

"One of them spoke to John. He knew about the war. About Virginia. They are there, I'm sure of it."

Barely a breath: "Shit."

Curtis slips an arm around her shoulders, gently urging her closer.

She gentles immediately, closing the distance between them and nestling against his side. His observation draws a quiet little chuff of laughter.

"Yes. Aptly put. The war is not over. It has simply moved fronts. I have chosen to focus on bringing Barsoom back to her former glory. With the knowledge that they will surely return some day. I just need to make sure we're ready when it happens."

He rubs her shoulder, just as gentle, as he raises his eye back to the moons.

"Humans are tough bastards," he murmurs. "This Earth'll be all right. You gotta take care of your own home first sometimes."

"Yes," she says. Her gaze follows his.

"You humans are remarkably resilient. Also, stubborn." He can detect a wry amusement in that last observation.

A fond snort.

"So I've heard," he says, before pressing a brief kiss to Dejah's temple.

She leans into the kiss, humming under her breath.

"You really should take in the view of the city while you're here. If you're up to it."

He breathes out.

"Okay." Half to himself. "Lemme just..."

If he can handle looking up at the stars, surely he can handle looking down at the ground. Curtis turns enough to glimpse the expanse beneath them -- and goes still against Dejah, eyes wide.

It's not all fear, though. Or vertigo. Awe sparks anew, like a firework, as he sees the whole of the city laid out beneath them, sparkling like a mirror of the deep, clear sky.

She basks in the wash of awe flowing off of him. This is home to her. She's worked very hard to keep it safe, to keep the legacy of Helium moving forward. To see him take in the beauty and the wonder of the place for the first time, it's gratifying in a way she can't quite express.

First thing to notice, the city itself is perched on top of a promontory, the chasm below providing all the defense they need against a ground assault. She points to a building across the city, rising above the other low structures.

"That's the Hall of Science. It's sister, the Hall of Art stands beside it."

" -- Oh, hey, yeah," he says, once his eyes settle on where she's pointing. After almost two decades of never having to focus on anything more than a car's length away, Curtis still has a little trouble making his eyes work sometimes. "And that's where you work when you're not here, right? The science one?"

"Yes. I'm the Regent of the Royal Academy of Sciences. I am the -- head professor, if you will. I have students who will one day go on to become professors themselves. I also have younger students, but I don't get to spend as much time with them as I'd like."

She lays her head against his shoulder. "I keep rooms above my offices there. They look very similar to my rooms in Milliways."

"Mm." He soaks in the closeness like he's curling up in bed after a long day. "But...no rooms in this building, too?"

What do they do with all the space?

"Well..." She chews on her lip, pondering how best to phrase this. "I am the Jeddak. Technically the whole palace is mine. But my private residence is in the northern wing. After John died, I found it difficult to sleep here, though. So I took to sleeping in my office. And in the way of these things, someone took it upon themselves to make sure I had a proper bed and bath there as well."

"I do still take my meals here. And for matters of state, it's better to entertain here in the Palace. I suppose, in the last few years, I seem to split my time equally between both residences. It would be -- unseemly for a Jeddak to abandon the palace all together."

Curtis makes another soft huh noise.

Six or seven months ago, there'd be so much more swirling beneath that formless syllable -- resignation, bitterness, anger. He'd be thinking of nothing but the excesses of the Front. A whole building to yourself and you still take another room, Jesus.

And maybe there's still a twinge of that, buried deep, but...mostly, what Dejah can feel is a genial that's weird.

Curtis gets not wanting to be in a place that stirs up bad memories. (Considering what happened today, he gets that very well.) It's bizarre, but he guesses if she's got the space, she might as well use it. Like switching bunks with somebody after a breakup or something. And she's not stealing that space from the Tail, so...yeah.

Dejah sighs, her fingertips tracing idle spirals on his chest.

"It seems so extravagant, when I think about it. But I feel comfortable in those spaces. I was raised in this palace. It's my home."

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