Andarin: The Mountains: and you at the middle of it all; requiem

Being everything that Nyota has (and still does) loved him for, Requiem takes it beautifully. She can relax. Her smile returns – and she says nothing more; he reminds her, gently, that their time wanes and she hates the world for those limitations. She does not want to waste their hours, minutes, seconds on apologies. She leans towards him and they walk.

It is his turn to tell a story, and she moves alongside him, her shoulder bumping his now and then as it once had when they had walked all over the Element. She hears the change in his voice and revels in it, for the softness is a beautiful thing to behold. She does not pick through his thoughts, the way she once had, because she is far too grateful for the sound of his voice.

It – his war, which had once seemed so far removed from Nyota’s comprehension - ended with Peace and for this – perhaps – she is the most grateful. “I have worried over you so much. I cannot tell you what a relief it is to hear that the worst is over.” She thinks of their son and nods –

“He has wanted to meet you – I think he will go with you, at least for a while.”

There is a pause, a brief place in which she thinks that she would too. But he would know this – just as she could not leave before, she would not leave now. Still, though (and most likely because she Knew the end drew ever closer) she presses her mouth against his neck and smiles broadly. “I should like to see this place that took you from me, and your people. One day, I will visit you.”

It does not matter that one by one, the shards are destroying the relics and that thread by thread, the brilliant tapestry of her home – her life – is unraveling. For now, even the most outlandish dreams were possible.