Rejoice

Zorun dragged himself to his feet, shakily trying to hold himself at attention while the king punched him again.
      "You will not -" Vejiita punctuated each word with another blow, "NOT bring your personal troubles to work with you!"
      The Saiya-jin-no-Ou had heard all about the occurrence in the messhall and was not at all happy about his Guard's lack of restraint. He'd forcibly impressed upon the elite that if he wanted to inflict damage on someone it was to take place in private, not in the middle of a crowded messhall.
      As to why he'd felt the need to blast to bleeding fragments a disgraced member of the offworld military - well, the king had no need or wish to know. Unless it impinged upon the security of the royal families or the Empire.
      Zorun assured him, through bleeding swollen lips, that it did not.
      Vejiita glowered.
      "And I understand you've fathered another brat."
      Zorun gritted his teeth and nodded tightly.
      "Fucking careless of you."
      "Sire, we didn't think it was possible…"
      "Heh. He sired brats on my Companion - that should have told you something! That was supposed to be impossible too."
      Zorun sank to one knee, as much to stop himself falling as anything.
      "Sire, I'm sorry."
      "Good. Now go and see he's all right. You have two days downtime - then I expect you to be back on duty and at peak performance."
      Zorun nodded, swallowing, painfully, with relief. He'd dreaded how Vejiita would take the news; after all, this new bonding served no political purpose. But the king seemed to accept it - not happily, but at least without undue rancour. He rose, saluted, and hastened to the medlab…

Ti'aasaan lay in one of the recovery beds, the gravity reduced to take the pressure off broken ribs and strained muscle, and the temperature increased for his comfort. Ti'zheenan had taken to spending hours at his side when Zorun couldn't be there, smiling nervously at the Saiyan as he returned and leaving the bondmates in peace.
      Ti'aasaan was awake and a little more alert today: Zorun stroked his hair gently, then seated himself, taking a small, limp hand into his own warm grasp and kissing long fingers. The little zn'hre offered a tremulous smile.
      **Zo-chan… we should talk…**
      The Saiyan had been dreading this. He hated himself for thinking it, but he'd almost wished that Ti'aasaan would miscarry - after all, it had happened in all the other R'ren'nkh'ia-jin/Saiya-jin conceptions. And it would save so much… disruption. But to everyone's surprise - not least Vinas' - the spark of ki grew stronger, brighter, as the zn'hre's body adapted to the hybrid embryo. And of course, the care the medical team could offer was so much better now, after their experiences with the Ssii'iin and Zha'haarak - Vinas was certain they'd have no problems seeing the hosting through to a successful birth.
      Zorun stroked Ti'aasaan's face, gently.
      *Of course, little one.*
      **You don't want this hostling, do you?**
      Zorun bit his lip.
      *It's… it's not that I don't, zkai'da… It's…* he growled at himself. *I have Kinu, and Kuri, and the new brat coming… A fourth… and another hybrid… it's all…*
      Ti'aasaan squeezed his hand.
      **I suppose it would feel rather - stressful… But you're not to worry. You're part of the family now, and we look after each other. Aijin, if you don't want to have anything to do with the hostling - or even see him - you won't need to**
      Zorun considered it, startled at the hollow empty feeling the thought produced. He frowned.
      *No, I don't think I want that. I don't know quite what I do want, though…*
      Ti'aasaan chuckled, grimacing and pressing a hand to his chest as pain speared through his ribs.
      **Well, we have plenty of time to decide…** He sobered and gazed up at the Saiyan.
      **May I ask one favour, though?**
      Zorun nodded.
      *Anything.*
      The zn'hre took a careful breath, eyeing the guard apprehensively.
      **We know that the hostling develops better if the hosting chamber is regularly filled with protein - semen** He lowered his eyes. **I'd like it to be yours. But if you'd prefer not, I can ask one of the family…**
      The Saiyan felt an odd mix of emotions flow through him, almost too fast to be grasped. Angry possessiveness at the thought of anyone else touching his zn'hre; tenderness towards his bondmate - yes, his bondmate, even if that was unplanned and unasked for; and a sudden warm pride…
      He growled, affectionately.
      *Baka. Of course I want to!*
      Ti'aasaan's eyes were very bright - Saiyans hadn't learned to lie in mindspeak, he knew Zorun spoke the truth. He stroked the big male's cheek.
      **Thank you, zkai'da… I'm sorry it happened this way - but I can't be sorry it happened**
      And rather to his surprise, neither could Zorun…

'raadiin was pacing in their quarters, arms crossed and trademark scowl on his face. Ry smirked.
      "Well I think it's rather sweet!"
      "You fucking would…"
      The news that he was to have a hybrid maa'ziin had shocked and bewildered the young warrior. On the one hand, he liked and respected the King's Guard, admired his strength, and of course he was fond of Kuri, even if the little brat was a pain in the arse at times. On the other, he knew his maazi hadn't wanted any more hostlings, not for a good long while, anyway, and certainly not like this… it was a forced hosting, history, something that should never happen, not these days... And he'd seen the state Ti'aasaan had been in, after… He swallowed. How anyone could hurt maazi… Though he knew, of course, that Zorun dealt with pain by dealing pain, it was part of his nature… 'raadiin stopped pacing and dropped into a crouch, covering his face with his hands, desperately angry with Zorun and miserable for his host, and unable to do anything about it. Especially since maazi and the Saiyan had bonded.
      Ry sat cross-legged beside him, trying to help the only way he knew. Knowing it would hurt, but also that it would let his friend work off his anger and frustration.
      "You wanna fight?"
      'raadiin's head slowly came up, golden eyes wide as he stared at the young elite. Ry's combat skills (and strength) had been steadily increasing since he'd joined them - of course he'd improved, it was either that or spend half his time in the medical centre! - but so had 'raadiin's… He suddenly realised he didn't want to cause the Saiyan pain. Well, unnecessary pain, anyway. He hissed sullenly, hiding the unwelcome revelation behind a deeper scowl.
      "No. There's been enough harm done already."
      Ry hid his relief. There were many things he'd like to do with 'raadiin: fighting outside of training wasn't one of them.
      "What d'you wanna do, then?"
      The zn'hre stared at him for a moment, then pulled himself abruptly upright and headed for the window. Ry intercepted him before he got there.
      "Where're you going?"
      "None of your fucking business."
      That meant the palace and a sex session with 'fallon. Ry growled.
      "Retasu'll have your arse…"
      The zn'hre smirked.
      "He'll never know."
      Which was, Ry thought morosely to himself as 'raadiin disappeared, quite true. The zn'hre had become very adept at sneaking out of barracks - and he was very, very fast. The only way the officer would find out was if someone told him - and Ry wasn't about to risk the fragile relationship that was developing between himself and the prince by doing something so... dishonourable…

'fallon sprawled on the bed, limp and exhausted, watching 'raadiin pull his heavy fur bodysuit back on. The young warrior smirked as he pulled up the hood, then leaned down to kiss his little lover.
      **Later, zk'vissin…**
      'fallon smiled tremulously as 'raadiin slipped out onto the balcony and took off back to barracks, then curled round himself, hands cupping his groin.
      Gods he ached! Ever since Kiraz had swaggered up to 'raadiin, boasting about the afternoon he'd spent fucking Pirum and 'selaan, 'raadiin had been insatiable - and a lot more forceful, almost as if trying to make up for Kiraz' achievement by the number of times he could make them both come. And every time Kiraz spent an hour or so with the pair, 'raadiin made sure he snuck out to visit 'fallon for an evening…
      Kneading gently at the entrance to his bruised chitsu, 'fallon bit his lip. Kiraz had spent the afternoon with his father, the zn'hre knew, so what had sparked this latest outburst? Something at barracks? Then he sighed. No, of course, it was Ti'aasaan and Zorun…
      Pulling himself carefully upright and limping to the shower, 'fallon almost wished 'raadiin would take another lover: at least it would take the pressure off himself…

'selaan and Pirum watched as Vinas held the monitor to Ti'aasaan's neck, nodding at the results. His mouth quirked in what, for him, was a smile.
      "Good. All is proceeding well."
      'selaan inclined his head to his mentor.
      "Vinas-san, do you have any idea why this happened?"
      The Feeodoreean answered without looking up from the diagnostic panel beside the little zn'hre's bed.
      "That's what we're trying to find out, Zha'selaan-geer. The fact that Ti'aasaan-sama can reproduce outside of his own species without medical intervention suggests there may be something unusual at a genetic level. This will require some study." He glanced at the pair. "No doubt you wish to be involved?"
      They nodded eagerly, and he inclined his head.
      "We will start by examining Ti'aasaan-sama's DNA…"
      As the biotech turned back to the bed, 'selaan leaned to Pirum, murmuring,
      "I wonder if all of us have whatever-it-is that lets maazi breed like that?"
      She frowned.
      "But look at how difficult it was for Zha'haabron-sama and Zha'haarak-sama to have hostlings!"
      He nodded.
      "Yes, but they aren't maazi. And he had sirelings with 'teetza, remember."
      Her eyes widened.
      "So, you think Ti'aasaan-sama's children might also be able to breed with Saiya-jin - naturally, I mean?"
      "I don't know - but wouldn't it be wonderful if we could!"

The same thought had occurred to 'haabron. He snuggled more tightly into Kobis where they lay under the heavy fur, watching soft snowflakes drift slowly down to powder the balcony, his aijin's tail wrapped around his waist, and shared the thought with his lover…
      Kobis had gone completely still, then moved slightly away to frown at the zn'hre.
      "I suppose… Well, it would make things easier for those who want hostlings, I suppose… But I'd thought we'd be able to carry on making love without having to worry about you conceiving…"
      'haabron blinked.
      "You don't want hostlings?"
      Kobis hugged him tightly.
      "Yes, I do - when the time's right. When we're both ready. And not for years yet."
      The zn'hre nodded.
      "Yes, I agree. We have far too much to do, to learn, first." He kissed the Saiyan's jaw. "Wonderful as the thought of hosting your children is…"
      Kobis shivered happily, then nuzzled his zkai'da.
      "I'm sure Vinas is looking into it already. And after all, it might be that Tia-chan's… genetics… only allow for conception with northerners. 'teetza and Zorun are both from Kitaa." He frowned. "Although… he had sex with Rad-chan without conceiving, didn't he, and Radittsu's from the north too…"
      'haabron shrugged.
      "Maybe it's not like normal zn'hre - not conceiving every time, I mean."
      The Saiyan nodded slowly, then sighed.
      "Well, we'd better find out before you reach breeding age!"
      'haabron chuckled and pulled Kobis down on top of him.
      "That's not for a while yet. Let's enjoy not having to worry while we can!"

The Academy was a noisy, tense, bustling hive of activity. The winter performance was three days away and all the staff were panicking - there was still so much to do!
      All the staff except Bri'seiyis, that is. The zn'hre songwright moved through the chaos with his habitual calm, his very presence reassuring. Bri-sama was here - of course nothing would go wrong.

"Head up further, sinam."
      Jeice placed his fingertips under 'tiisaan's chin, pushing gently. They were working on last minute refinements to the dance the zn'hre would perform, indoors, prior to the audience moving out into the Academy grounds for the finale. 'tiisaan was still annoyed he couldn't take part, but, as Jeice pointed out, his dance would be the one they'd remember clearly, there being a brief intermission right afterwards for food and hot drinks before everyone braved the cold.
      'tiisaan obediently raised his head a little, arms elegantly held out to each side. Jeice nodded, smiling.
      "Beautiful. Hold for a count of five…"
      … then 'tiisaan swept into the final movement of the dance, a slow, stately, graceful representation of life…
      Jeice applauded quietly, then hugged the dancer to him.
      "Perfect, hasshkaen!"
      'tiisaan grinned, quietly elated.
      "Not quite, Je-chan. But I'm getting there!"
      The hash'shavven chuckled and kissed him.
      "And you will, I know it."
      'tiisaan pulled back for a moment, face suddenly sombre.
      "I hope so, Ja'isuu. I really hope so. I want to be the best. I must be the best…"
      Jeice took his face between small strong hands, gazing into intense golden eyes.
      "You will, little one, you will. And one day soon you will come with me to Home, and dance with us across the face of the world."
      'tiisaan's eyes were bright as he grabbed Jeice to him, hugging tightly, then stepping back with a contented sigh.
      "I suppose we'd better see how everyone else is doing…"

The morning of the performance dawned with heavy cloud obscuring the sky and a steady snowfall already covering the ground with pristine white. 'tiisaan looked out of their window and shivered.
      "Well, at least it'll be dramatic…"
      'viirel hugged him from behind.
      "It's going to be wonderful, zk'vissin."
      And certainly, if the Academy staff and students had anything to do with it, it would be considerably more than wonderful…
      Dragging on light bodysuits the zn'hre made their way to the main assembly hall, meeting up with the rest of the students and staff of the Academy for Bri'seiyis' last instructions before the day began.
      The songwright kept his address short, smiling proudly at the assembled beings, his confidence in their skill and competence obvious in his face - then dismissed them all for first meal.
      Strangely, now the day was actually here, the performers found themselves calm, focussed, rather than nervous and apprehensive as they'd expected. Their guests were due to arrive mid-morning: everyone and everything had to be ready by then, but no-one had any doubts that they would be. Repa and Mirkev, cousins from Cayir, joined their zn'hre friends at the table, tails lashing excitedly. Repa was grinning widely.
      "I can't believe it's actually here!"
      'tiisaan smiled. Repa and her cousin, along with four other zn'hre, the Academy's seven young Lopoldans and a handful of Shimosei-jin, had been studying bell-dancing under Mahrayne, and were due to perform early in the programme - but not naked, to their annoyance: Vejiita had requested that all the performers wear at least minimal covering to make sure none of the varied species attending could take offence. Accordingly, they'd all been fitted with close-fitting bodysuits matched to their skin colour to at least give the illusion of nudity (although the zn'hre were disgusted they couldn't show off their own specific version of the art. Bri'seiyis promised them he'd do his best to have it demonstrated properly in the high summer performance…)
      They ate quickly: the eatery was fast emptying as the artists finished their meals and made their way to their own preparation areas, and the eatery staff prepared the chamber, decking long tables at the side of the room with fine white cloth and pots of exotic alien blooms. At mid afternoon a luxurious buffet would be laid out for the guests…

… who began to appear just before mid-morning, the parents and sires and hosts and families of the students arriving in advance of the main party of dignitaries from across the Empire and beyond. The students had assembled in the expansive foyer, and the chamber was still noisy with greetings and excited talk when Bri'seiyis called for attention. As all eyes turned to him, standing on the small landing half-way up the double staircase at the back of the gracious building, he spread his arms wide, musical low voice carrying to every ear.
      "You are all most welcome to the Academy, and we are delighted that you are here to join us in celebration. If I may ask you to move through to the main auditorium, the morning's performance will begin shortly."
      Murmuring enthusiastically the assembly split, the visitors to be seated while the students made their way to the series of rooms to the side of the huge chamber to prepare themselves.
      Which incidentally left the foyer clear for the arrival of the chiefs and leaders and princes and ministers of seventy worlds, escorted by members of the Saiyan diplomatic corps headed by Manzano. As Bri'seiyis and his administrative staff moved forward to welcome them, Manzano froze, then turned to the main doors and bowed deeply - spurring the others to similar sorts of courtesies as the Saiya-jin-no-Ou and the R'ren'nkh'ian High King made their joint entrance…
      The aura of sheer power that surrounded them was almost palpable, and overawed those who had not met the pair before. They were greeted by a respectful silence - which was broken by 'jiita struggling out of Leteetza's arms and scrambling to stand beside his papa, gazing fearlessly out over the assembly. Bri'seiyis smiled.
      "Greetings, your Majesties, and welcome to the Academy."
      Vejiita inclined his head, while Zha'haabron smiled, his eyes twinkling, Radittsu as ever at his back with their hybrid children holding his hands and 'dittsu perched on his shoulder. The Saiya-jin-no-Ou glanced around the chamber, smirking.
      "And welcome to you all. We trust you'll enjoy your time here." He quirked an eyebrow at the zn'hre. "Shall we begin?"
      Bri'seiyis bit back a chuckle. Had he any choice in the matter Vejiita would have much rather gone hunting, but this represented an ideal opportunity to show the galaxy the sort of things of which the Saiya-jin were capable - and he never missed such an opportunity once it had been pointed out to him.
      "Certainly, Sire, Ssii'iin, if you'd care to all follow me…"
      He turned and led them to the hall, to the seats that had been reserved for them, quietly pleased: the entire family had turned up (well, except for those offworld at present), even 'raadiin and Kiraz, who had no patience with 'all this arty rubbish'. Bri'seiyis suspected that Vejiita might have had some influence there…
      Finally they were all settled, Zorun standing at attention behind his king and looking as though he'd much rather be elsewhere, the family guards at their posts, the children hushed and cuddled into each other or their parents, and Bri'seiyis gave the signal for the performance to start…

Radittsu went down on one knee and pulled the flushed and bright-eyed 'tiisaan into a hug, nuzzling the zn'hre's hair.
      "Little one, that was… truly beautiful. All of it, but especially your dance."
      'tiisaan blushed and ducked his head.
      "I'm glad you liked it, Rad-san…"

It had been a memorable experience for everyone. The event had started with a musical piece in three parts, composed for the Tsilin students - squat, unpretty and slow-moving but each with a double windpipe and larynx and able to make the most exquisite vocal sounds. The piece was accompanied by minimal instrumentation, a double drum and deep-voiced wind-instrument; the first and third parts had been songs based on their own legends and translated into Common, the middle section wordless, the whole entrancing and intimately alien. The audience had applauded loudly at the end - even the Saiyans - and several of the visiting luminaries had ordered their aides to remind them to speak to the Academy's master at the end of the event, to see if the trio might be available for official functions…
      A presentation of various forms of dance had followed, with 'tiisaan, Jeice, Jagung, Tion - their only Korijin dancer - Hedvabi and Samet the Lopoldons, Xixix the Tardan and Avolpial - their most proficient Shimosein - all clad in plain bodysuits, giving brief talks then physical demonstrations of their native dances for the audience. Bri'seiyis had choreographed each one to tantalise the watcher while not revealing too much, and keeping it short enough that no-one had the chance to be bored.
      Then their Tardan and Fidimi dancers came onstage…
      There'd been those teachers, when the idea was first mooted, who declared that such a collaboration was impossible. The big hairless quadruped Tardans, with their long, expressive arms and four beautiful eyes, were a complete contrast to the tiny bipedal Fidimi, with their curly horns and manes and tails - and even if they could find some common ground on which to base a dance, said the detractors, they were too close in coloration, their skins a bronzy red, to be aesthetically dramatic.
      The Tardans and Fidimi ignored their teachers and between them worked out a magnificent and stirring composition which had the audience holding its collective breath and on the edge of its seats, expecting disaster at any moment as the little Fidimi danced and whirled around the far larger Tardans. The music was equally stirring, a fusion of the harmonies of both worlds played by Tardan musicians on native instruments. At the end the watchers slumped back in their seats, breathless, applauding wildly.
      Bri'seiyis grinned to himself, pleased that his faith had been vindicated, and already planning to see if other odd combinations of species might be workable.
      The bell-dancers were next, and did Mahrayne proud. They were a beautiful mix of colour and form, the tall, willowy Shimosein with their pale silvery skin sheened like water over ice, the solid, creamy-skinned Saiyans with their black manes and tails, the elegant, copper-haired, red-skinned Lopoldons and the blues and greens of the slender supple zn'hre. Their bell-ranges had been carefully chosen too, the Shimosein high and silvery, just below what would be painful for the Saiya-jin: Repa and Mirkev's deeper-toned and mellow, their tail-bells creating a shiver of sound as they rippled the long slender limbs, the Lopoldon's mid-range, full and clear, while the zn'hre wore the 'desert-wind' seedpods Bri'seiyis had developed. They moved around each other, echoing each other's movements and segueing into their own adaptations, dancing to and with their fellows a dance of quiet joy.
      It was received with deep appreciation - much to the dancers' delight.
      Bri'seiyis called a brief interval at that point, ascending the stage to answer any questions the audience might have, gratified to find they'd obviously been watching and listening closely and were fascinated to know more. Eventually he had to cut the question time short, promising he'd make himself available at the end of the event to speak to anyone who wished to approach him, and introduced the second half of the indoor performances.
      He was a little anxious about the first act, a short and - he thought - charmingly amusing piece with the trio of Tsilins 'attempting' to outsing 'viirel and Ti'nienan in a song about the relative merits of different sorts of food. Something of a risk, he knew, but he wanted to show as many different aspects of the Academy's work as he could in the short space of time…
      It was a qualified success. The Saiyans found it funny, as did about half of the other species present: those who didn't seemed to enjoy the sound of the voices, even if the subject matter left them puzzled. At any event, the applause was plentiful enough to please the performers, who grinned and blushed and bowed as they hastened off the dais.
      A native Turvian excappade followed, danced by Turvians to the delight of the more battle-loving elements in the audience: the heavily muscled aliens used such dances in their combat training to increase speed and endurance - at which they were quite effective, if only because if you didn't keep leaping and ducking and weaving in unison with your fellow dancers you were quite likely to lose a hand or foot, or possibly your life, to one of the spinning blades that ricocheted off the longspears of the guards at either side. Radittsu had leaned to murmur to Hijau "Heh! Sawagi!" at which the captain had chuckled and nodded…
      But there were no accidents, and the skill of the dancers was enough to deeply impress the audience.
      Then it was 'tiisaan's turn.
      The young zn'hre took his place alone on the dais, plainly dressed in a brief blue bodysuit, barefoot, his hair loose. He looked, thought Zha'haabron with a sudden jolt of apprehension, very lonely and small on the stage… The lights dimmed…
      And a pale blue ki aura slowly enveloped 'tiisaan as he slowly raised his arms to the side, his hair fanning out around his head - and he began to dance.
      The audience watched, enthralled, as the ki aura changed as he moved, long ragged golden flames at one moment, the next a fluttering of green like leaves in a wind, his strong lithe frame embodying in flesh what the aura suggested, soaring into the air and hovering as silver white 'kiflakes' drifted from his fingertips, then pirouetting as he became the wind, then a bird dreaming on the wind…
      It was extraordinary, and time ceased to exist as they watched him dance the joy of creation, all-enveloping and glorious. As he landed soundlessly, sideways to the watchers, head raised and eyes bright, arms extended as if inviting them to join with him, a quiet sigh rose from the audience, and as he swirled to a halt, arms raised, hair fanned around him and golden flames flickering downwards from his hands like great wings, one by one they stood and began to applaud, quietly at first, then louder and louder, joined by all the other performers who'd watched him from the side of the dais…
      There were tears in 'tiisaan's eyes - and his sire's, and Jeice's, and Mahrayne's - as he bowed gracefully and loped offstage.
      As the applause finally showed signs of stopping, the lights brightened and Bri'seiyis climbed to the dais, smiling happily around the chamber.
      "Thank you, everyone - I'm very happy that you have enjoyed this part of the event. Now if you'd like to follow the Shimosein ushers, there will be an intermission for a meal in the main eatery…"
      It was a sign of how much the performance had pleased and enchanted everyone that there wasn't a mad dash for the exits.

'tiisaan had changed into a full bodysuit and joined his family in the eatery, making his way slowly through the throng who stopped him to say how much they had enjoyed his dancing, and who had taught him, and could anyone learn, and was he free to perform on H'rdag in a hundred and fifty days time… He was courteous, but swift in his answers, referring a lot of them to Bri'seiyis, and finally arrived in front of Zha'haabron - who cuddled him closely, proud, so proud.
      **… zk'vissin. That was incredibly beautiful... perfect**
      'tiisaan laughed briefly, a happy sound.
      **No, sa'ashi. Not perfect. Not yet. Maybe never. But I'll never stop trying**
      Zha'haabron kissed him, chuckling quietly - then releasing him as 'raadiin moved to hover patiently beside them both. 'tiisaan glanced at his sibling: 'raadiin smirked and patted the dancer's shoulder, a little awkwardly.
      "Just wanted to say that was fucking good. Almost good enough to make me want to learn…"
      'tiisaan stared, then broke into a laugh.
      "Heh, I'm honoured and flattered!" He smirked. "Can always give you private lessons…"
      'raadiin scowled, but his eyes were twinkling.
      "Don't push your luck!"
      'tiisaan grinned as the warrior turned and went back to the buffet tables, where 'fallon was waiting nervously. 'haabron handed the dancer a plate of his favourite nibbles, smiling.
      "I had no idea you'd come on so far. I'd love to learn to manipulate ki like that - was it difficult?"
      'tiisaan frowned, head on one side.
      "Not difficult, exactly, but it does take a lot of concentration. But I could probably teach you the basics, if you like…"
      Glancing over his shoulder to where Kobis was in conversation with his twin, 'haabron nodded.
      "Please. Even if I only learn a little, it would be nice to incorporate it into a dance…"

An hour later, with the company well-fed and fuelled and ready to continue the entertainment, Bri'seiyis had the Shimosein usher everyone into the outdoor arena.
      The land sloped gently down in a natural bowl-shape to the broad flat lake. Linked benches had been arranged in tiers, made comfortable with plenty of cushions and the ubiquitous furs: six special squad Saiyan Elite were spaced around the seating area, interlinked ki-shields keeping the drifting snow - and bitter but mercifully light wind - from the audience.
      It was nevertheless very cold indeed. The family's personal Guard pulled the hostlings to them, keeping them warm inside their own ki-shields, while Radittsu and Hijau protected their bondmates. Even so, it wouldn't be wise to keep the zn'hre outside for too long.
      But Bri'seiyis knew that, and had arranged a relatively short but spectacular second half to close the event. As everyone settled down, swathed in furs, subtle, constantly changing lights came up, flickering and shimmering over the snow…
      And Jagung appeared.
      His mane blowing about him in the wind, glowing in the lighting. And wearing only the briefest black scrap of leather at his groin, held in place by thin straps around his hips and between his legs. Barefoot, long slender tail elegantly outstretched behind him, he prowled through the snow to the centre of the performing area and paused, body tensed, and looked around him as though seeking a scent. After a few seconds his head jerked back to the centre: a slow smile spread across his face - and he bowed, slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on the audience…
      What followed left the audience - and Merica, who would once, before Ti'aasaan had become part of them, have torn out the throats of everyone there for daring to look at his bondmate that way! - breathless with lust. It felt as though he danced for each person alone, tempting, yearning, teasing… half of them could have sworn they felt his touch on their bodies…
      It ended far too soon, with Jagung kneeling in the snow, open, submissive, waiting and wanting, lovely eyes full of longing - and gazing directly at Merica. Who very nearly flew down and snatched him away back to the palace to show him exactly how much he was desired - and ease the ferocious ache in his groin at the same time. (It is much to their credit that no-one in the audience tried to relieve themselves while the elite was dancing, however tempting a proposition it was…) As the Saiyan bowed and loped back to the Academy to dress, the audience stood to applaud, and Merica was gripped with a fierce, possessive pride. His Jagung: his beloved…
      Jagung arrived at his side a few moments before the next performance, and snuggled into his bondmate's warmth, dragging a fur over his shivering body. Merica cuddled him close, growling.
      *Baka! You trying to freeze to death?*
      The dancer kissed him, shoving cold hands under the waistband of the leather trousers he was wearing and cupping his groin, making the guard flinch and bite his lip to stop himself crying out.
      *You are FUCKING cold!*
      Jagung smirked.
      *I know. Why do you think my hands are here* cold fingers tweaked a hot and very hard erection *on the warmest part of your body?*
      Merica groaned, then quickly kissed his aijin as the music for the next dance started…
      They could scent Mahrayne's nervousness as she walked out onto the performing area, the big Korijin behind her, and there were some amongst the audience who wondered that she had the gall to participate. Yet the kings' presences and the diplomatic importance of the event constrained them to courtesy. They stayed, and watched - and found themselves caught up in the dance against their will.
      Where 'tiisaan had danced creation, Life as a whole, the Hassinan danced a smaller life, the life that comes from within. She danced the children, the new lives that shaped the future, and she shimmered like a flame against the snow, her rounded belly eloquent of her own belief in that future. And it was graceful, and moving to tears, the Korijin guarding the mother-to-be with her life, vowing fealty until it was her own time to bear the future… Zorun watched, face impassive, the anger and bitterness he felt subsumed in the wish that Ti'aasaan could be here to see the dance, to draw strength from it. His bondmate. His little zn'hre. Carrying his hostling.
      It was beautiful, and when it ended there was no applause for long moments, only a wistful, yearning hush. As Tion ushered Mahrayne back to the Academy building and the warmth, the audience turned to watch her, a low, rumbling wave of appreciative voices redolent of how much the dance had meant to them all washing over the arena.
      Bri'seiyis, ever sensitive to the mood of those around him, allowed a brief interval, watching as the partnered beings in the audience turned to each other, reaffirming their own bonds and - he thought - considering their physical responses to the dance. He wouldn't be at all surprised if a number of hostlings were conceived later tonight…
      But he couldn't wait too long, the zn'hre were beginning to grow cold. He smiled at Jeice, ready at his side. The hash'shavven smiled back and took off straight up, hovering out of sight as the lights dimmed to almost nothing.
      The audience stirred, not knowing what was about to happen, tension building as they waited. Jeice slowly sank down until he was just above the eye-level of the highest tier of seats and out over the centre of the lake…
      … then focussed…
      … then loosed a nimbus of ki to flare and coruscate around him, gazing down as the startled watchers flinched, awe in their eyes as they looked up at him…
      Arms outstretched, the silver armbands and heavy silver pendant earrings burningly cold against warm red skin, the scrap of pure white silk covering his groin his only clothing, he hovered for a moment - then began to dance…
      Zha'haabron smiled, golden eyes soft. A firedance, an aerial firedance, warm golden-red flares of ki rolling down from Jeice's hands to shimmer on the surface of the water, reflecting off the snow across the Academy grounds as he soared and whirled, air and ground regardless in the joy of the dance.
      A joy that was reflected in the faces of those watching. Here was the power of life, self-creating, self-sustaining, invigorating, warming, healing. Jeice danced for the joy of the dance, and at the end, holding himself motionless above the lake, burning like a small sun shedding radiance to awaken the world, he watched the watchers rise to their feet, hands raised, tears on their faces.
       None of them would forget today. All of them would carry away a little piece of the raw energies the Empire guided and guarded, and a new appreciation of potential. No doubt Manzano would find requests for membership flooding his office over the next year, and Vejiita would be happy to see his Empire grow. But right now Jeice didn't care. He was alive, and free, his people were alive and free and the guardians of their own destinies.
      And it was all thanks to two small princes and a lizard king who hated slavery and whose vision went far beyond the ordinary.
      Now, all things were possible.