MidNight
Outside a freezing blizzard rages. Inside it is warm, golden firelight flickering against the walls of our room and over the pale skin of the muscular body at my side. I lie wakeful, watching him sleep.
Had I known what was to happen here I would probably never have left R'ren'nkh'ia, my sire's demands - and my own wishes - notwithstanding. I may have ruined his life with my own lack of self-control.
Bonding. To become part of another, and have them become part of yourself. To submit to such deadly vulnerability, such sublime intimacy... It's more of a curse than a blessing. It's perilous enough if it happens with a member of your own race, but with another and entirely different species altogether...
Talking with Leteetza has stirred up memories I've successfully kept deeply buried for years. Memories of being nothing more than a thing to be used at my sire's behest. He had built practically our entire clan from my body, forcing me to conceive again almost as soon as each brood was removed from me. It had started as soon as I was physically capable of hosting offspring, at about eight planetary cycles old, and I'd spent - fifteen? twenty? - cycles almost permanently gravid: he'd allow me ten or so days rest, then force himself on and into me again. Even with drugs to dull the pain, those years were close to unendurable. And knowing I had nothing better to look forward to would have been enough to make me end my life - had I not been so closely guarded the whole time.
The crisis came at that last hosting. The pain during the gestation had been unusually severe, and the biotechs were worried - I'd hosted most of them and could *feel* their concern, although I'd been so ill it meant very little at the time. But much to Zha'geekaan's annoyance they'd insisted on an early extraction of the hostlings...
They'd known that the standard anaesthetics would no longer work: my body had become so accustomed to them by now that they were worse than useless. So Zhe'en had caught my head between his hands and did his best to block the pain empathically.
It hadn't worked, but they were mercifully quick, and as I lay, afterwards, dazed and forcing myself to disregard the agony from my mutilated and abused body, I'd hazily heard Zhe'en speak to my sire. Bluntly. To this day I still don't know why Zha'geekaan allowed him to live, afterwards.
"Sire - if he's forced to host another brood he will not survive. You must stop this."
There was an ominous silence, and I waited for the inevitable explosion - but it never came. I couldn't make out what my sire said in answer, since the conversation moved out of the room in which I lay, but he did not come to me again.
They stopped feeding me drugs. And it was agony. Zhe'en had stayed with me constantly as I struggled slowly back to something approaching normal, holding me comfortingly when the seemingly endless withdrawal from the narcotic mixes left me shaking uncontrollably, hallucinating, hurting, too weak to fight off the demons in my mind. It seemed to last forever...
But eventually there came a time when I could function again. Zh'leet took over from Zhe'en, and bullied me out of my sickbed and into training, first with Tia'von, then later with Zh'anah. I grew stronger, the effects of the drugs faded, and looking at myself in the mirror I saw a renewed beauty, glowing with health - a far cry from the pale, gaunt figure I'd become under my sire's demands.
In spite of everything, Zha'geekaan apparently really did value me. Later I found out that he had accepted that it was now dangerous for me to host offspring, and no longer permitted it. He'd had me sire them instead, on favoured members of his court...
Then there came the - admittedly remote - possibility of escape. And I took it, agreeing to promote Zha'geekaan's proposed alliance. By then I'd started making my own plans, which required my sire to become the High King: I'd already determined I'd do anything to further my own objectives. So I came to Vejiitasei.
And almost immediately found myself gazing breathlessly into a pair of ebony eyes that stared back at me with adoration.
There is a silent, hidden sect on R'ren'nkh'ia whose members keep their faith a tightly-held secret. They believe in reincarnation, and the bonding of souls across time and space. I'd always derided the notion - until I met Radittsu.
I don't know how else to explain what happened. We both felt it immediately. Radittsu simply accepted it, as he has always accepted his feelings, without guilt, without fear, wholeheartedly.
I fought it. Oh, how I fought it!! We had nothing in common, not our physical structure, our culture - not even the composition of our homeworlds. He could not survive on R'ren'nkh'ia without considerable preparation and constant alertness, and although I could - just - cope with Vejiitasei, most of the time, it was cold, so cold and so damp. Physically uncomfortable.
And mentally stimulating - and emotionally uplifting. Wholly satisfying. Radittsu's home. And therefore mine.
For me, our bonding was a mix of the most exquisite pain, breathtaking desire, and fearful longing. All I wanted was to lose myself in him, enfold him within me and never let him go... Love? Love doesn't even come close. I cannot exist without him - yet it's continual pain, feeling so much for him, knowing how fragile he is. Knowing that one day I will lose him, no matter how well I protect him. My species lives longer even than his...
It is so difficult, sometimes, not to pull him to me, hold him with all my strength, but I dare not. I would break bones, tear flesh, crush nerves - I must never forget how much stronger I am, how easily I could injure him.
Have I destroyed the comfortable, normal life he could have expected if he'd never met me? Maybe, although I'd had no control over those circumstances. More reprehensible was my surrendering to the bonding compulsion. If I had refused him, if I had made him leave me...
Would it have worked? The bond wasn't complete at that stage. He might have been able to break it. And if he had, would he have been able to enjoy that normal Saiyan existence? Taken a Saiyan mate, had a family, a normal life? I don't know. I'll never know, now. I was weak, and now I am his, as he is mine.
He stirs slightly in sleep, stretching, pushing the sleeping fur down to his hips then sighing, a slight smile playing across his lips - lips I can't kiss, afraid that my teeth will slice and shred his delicate skin, afraid that if I start I won't be able to stop. He has no idea how much I want to kiss him, taste his mouth, feel his tongue against mine... I stroke his broad chest lightly, not wanting to wake him, and his tail wraps around my wrist as he pulls me a little closer to him. And I catch my breath, suddenly feel a yawning desolation within me, my vision hazing as my eyes fill with tears. Gods, what have I done? What have I done to him? How could I have been so selfish?
He wakes.
And frowns, and reaches a hand to brush at the tears on my cheeks.
*Beloved?*
I don't deserve the title: I swallow a sob. His eyes widen in alarm and he pulls me to him, stroking my hair, my shoulders.
*What's wrong?*
I hold him close, nestling against him. I don't want to hurt him, ever. My reply is an evasion, but not a lie.
**I simply find it difficult to believe I can have been so blessed as to find you**
He smiles and brushes his lips across my forehead.
*You are my life.*
I didn't want to hear that. It makes my own deliberations, my guilt, so much harder to endure. I bury my face in his neck, and he hugs me tightly. And I sigh, inside, and give in. Now is not the time for analysis or debate. I can worry about this later.
**As you are mine**
I can *feel* the thrill of joy that courses through him at that, and I smile. I may be the more powerful, but he has a solid, enduring strength that will, I think, see us through the difficulties that are to come. Am I selfish for letting him know how I feel?
I pull back slightly, gazing into his wide, happy eyes, my hand stroking the flawless planes of his warm, beautiful face. He has such a simple, profound conviction that everything will work out for the best. And for now I will believe it with him. I want it to be true, as much as he does. And maybe, between us, we can make it happen.
© 2001 June 3rd Joules Taylor
