Hobsonphile (hobsonphile) wrote,

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FIC- Counting the Living: 2260 (B5 WIP)

I can't tell if you all are still reading these, but:

Segment four spoils through A Day in the Strife.



It is the beginning of the year 2260. A little more than ten billion Centauri are still alive on twenty-eight different worlds - but millions of Narn have perished. When it is quiet, Vir can still hear G’Kar’s blood dripping - dead, dead, dead - onto the deckplate.

Vir leaves the mission and the Celebration within, pulling the hood of his cloak up against the twilight breeze. Thentok has been over-zealous with the incense, and Vir can feel an attack creeping up on him, closing its fingers around his throat. Desperately needing distance, he walks into the garden until he is lightheaded, then sits, hard, on the rim of a fountain, his hand splayed against his chest.

When at last Vir dares to straighten, he notices, for the first time, the beauty of the gathering night. Hanging just above the mountains, Minbar’s sun shimmers through the crystalline towers of Yedor, splashing soft color across Vir’s face. And if he remains still, he can almost hear the trees sing with the wind, joining the bubbling fountain in a quiet duet. Gradually, as the violet of the sky deepens, something in Vir melts, and the quivering in his hands fades away.

"Are you well, Ambassador Cotto?"

As quickly as it had disappeared, Vir’s self-consciousness snaps back into place and he scrambles to his feet, rubbing at his suddenly burning eyes. "Bratenn! You-you startled me."

"My apologies," the Minbari replies with a subtle dip of his head. "I saw you leave the festivities, and I was concerned. I did not intend to frighten you."

"Oh, it’s all right. I-I-It’s not your fault. It’s my fault really. My mind was wandering, you see, and I – " Vir halts the flow of speech at once when he realizes he is babbling. Taking a deep breath, he starts over. "I-I’m all right. I just needed some air." He smiles sadly. "It was just… a little too much fun.

"And… and out here," Vir adds, his hands taking in the fading light of the garden, "it’s so… beautiful. And quiet. I just wish – " Londo could see it, Vir’s mind whispers, but his mouth fails to form the words. An ache blossoms at the center of Vir’s chest, but if Bratenn notices any outward sign of this, he does not say. Instead, he respectfully bows, tells Vir that he will leave him to his own reflection, and retreats.

An hour later, Vir scrubs his face in the fountain and returns to the mission.

Tags: babylon 5, fanfic100, fic

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