by Fleur Le Marc
90216.0900
Concurrent with the end of Exposed
-= A holding cell at the Central City Detention Center; Bajor=-
90216.0900
Concurrent with the end of Exposed
-= A holding cell at the Central City Detention Center; Bajor=-
The worst part wasn't being treated like a criminal.
The worst part wasn't being spoken to, and of, with unveiled derision. Or being called an off-worlder and an outsider or even being addressed and talked down to as if she was a very small child.
She let the words of the guards who had arrested her and the workers at the processing center roll off her shoulder; even when they sank to the low of calling her a deluded, ignorant woman without the sense to stay on her own planet and out of matters that do not concern her.
It didn't matter to Fleur what they called her, or where they took her.
All she could see in her mind's eye was the sight of Tress struggling as the militia officers had carried the baby off, still signing frantically.
All she could hear echoing in her ears were the small, pitiful cries of the child in what little, mangled manner of spoken speech she still possessed. The way Tress had shrieked, eyes wild with sheer terror as she signed the word mother again and again with tiny, dimpled hands.
The sight had simply been more heartbreaking than anything Fleur had ever seen, or could have imagined in her worst nightmares.
All she wanted now, all she needed, was to know that Tress and Pace were safe and with Camen.
If the children were safe, then everything else would work out.
She knew it would.
It had to.
She believed things would be all right because she had faith, and the eyes of that faith saw more clearly than the sharpest pair of human eyes ever could.
Yet it was not a faith in the God she was raised to pray to that sustained her in this time of darkness, or even a belief in the Prophets of the very world beneath her feet.
She had faith in Jariel Camen; and that was all she needed to keep her from giving in to despair.
He had never failed her. He would not fail her now.
She had no idea what time it was. The hours had blurred together into one slow, inestimable span as she had tried in vain to sleep.
There was nothing else that she could do here besides sleep and think; and so in her inability to achieve the former, she focused as well as she could on succeeding at the latter.
She was trying to conserve her strength and so fought the urge to pace, sitting motionless instead on her stiff bunk as she went over again in her mind the words she planned to say to the Magistrate in the morning. She had to try to explain herself, somehow.
She thought about asking the court to review her record of civilian service to Starfleet. She thought about asking the judge to speak with Vedek Delle, Drial Dier and the rest of the officials in the Plains that she had worked so closely with the past few months. They would vouch for her, and the judge would come to understand then that this was all a mistake.
Or, they would realize that this was nothing less than a witch-hunt and she was being targeted for one reason and one only; she mattered to Jariel Camen.
*I matter to Jariel Camen.* Fleur thought. The very idea of it amazed her. At the same time, as much as she had felt the depth of his emotions when he'd held her and said the words she'd dreamed of hearing for so many years, she couldn't help but wonder.
Just for a split second she questioned still if the reason that he hadn't come to her yet was because he wasn't going to come at all.
*He has to find the baby first,* She reminded herself sternly. *He knows I would want him to do nothing for me until he had first done that...*
She sighed. *Still...*
She heard someone approaching.
The instant she looked up and saw the expression upon Jariel's face as he stood in the doorway, she realized just how ridiculous that idea had been.
Her knees felt weak beneath her as she struggled to stand. "Tress?" She asked quickly, unable to find the words to form a proper and complete sentence.
"Outside, with Azalea Adams." He assured her, as he wasted no time in approaching the controls holding the force field in place between them.
Her eyes asked him how he'd accomplished all of this, and then she remembered that though one might never believe it from his soft-spoken demeanor and kind heart that Jariel Camen was one of the most respected and influential religious leaders on the world of his birth.
"I convinced Vedek Ram that it was in his best interests to drop the charges against you." Jariel explained, reaching out open arms to her as the energy wall between them fizzled, and died out. "Let's go home, Fleur."
Fleur rushed forward and into his embrace. The anger and fears that had consumed her since the moment she saw Tress carried off by force melted now in the deluge of tears that she was unable to prevent.
She tilted her chin upward and instinctively closed her eyes, her hand against his cheek as Jariel kissed her tenderly. She shuddered, and squeezed him once before letting go.
"You are here," she whispered, "I am home."
-=/\=-
It was late in the evening by the time the last official form was signed and sealed with Jariel's thumb-print.
There were forms pertaining to Fleur's release; absolving her of all charges. There were forms regarding Tress' transfer from the care of the Child Protection Ministry and over into Jariel's custody temporarily, until a final hearing to decide her future could be held in a few days time.
The transporter at the central hub locked onto the weary party of travelers, and then at last Azalea, Tress, Fleur and Jariel made their way up the stone walk that led to the front steps of the Sanctuary at Altaan.
Tress had been so happy to see Fleur and Jariel together again that she had fought sleep with every bit of strength and determination a toddler can muster when properly motivated. Before long though her stubbornness had lost the battle with exhaustion, and her head slumped onto Camen's shoulder as he carried her.
She sighed deeply in her sleep, her tiny, rosebud lips opening and closing softly as she dreamed. The three adults surrounding her all smiled at the sight, sharing a deep, unspoken gratitude that she was back where she belonged.
"Let me take her," Azalea volunteered once they were inside. "I know that you two have a lot to talk about, but as your physician and your friend, I am compelled to remind you that you're still recovering. I do want you to try to get some sleep tonight."
"Thank you, Azalea, for everything." Jariel gave Tress over to the doctor, and nodded gratefully.
"I didn't do much." She shrugged, sincerely believing the words as she hefted Tress' limp form up and onto her hip.
Fleur put a hand on Azalea's arm and patted it gently. "You've done more than we could ever repay you for."
Azalea lowered her eyes humbly. "See you at first meal."
"First meal." Jariel laughed softly, thinking how quickly Azalea had abandoned the terms she'd used all of her life, in this case the word breakfast, in favor of the local vernacular. "See you then."
"Oh," Azalea added, as they walked past the doorway to the dining hall on their way down the hall. "If you hear anything about Pace, wake me up? I'm anxious to know what has become of..." She knew that the first plans that Fleur and Camen had was to use every resource available to find Tress' older brother, as quickly as possible. Without Ram interfering, they all hoped that it wouldn't take long.
But Azalea's words came to a halt as she saw the expression on Fleur's face change. Le Marc had stopped dead in her tracks, and was staring into the dining room.
At a table in the far corner sat Vedek Timal...and Gillan Pace.
All Fleur could do was point, speechless.
Jariel leaned his head in the doorway and then shook it in joyous disbelief. He laughed again, this time incredulously. "It seems that someone has already found him, Azalea. Look."
Azalea looked, and then her eyes elevated heavenward as she sighed her thanks to whatever powers may be. "Now I know I'll get some sleep tonight. See you in the morning."
Adams wandered down the hallway. Jariel left Fleur standing where she was for a moment and followed.
He opened the door for the doctor and helped her settle Tress into bed. Azalea then flopped down onto the bed herself, not even changing her clothing or doing anything else before closing her eyes and surrendering to sleep.
Fleur continued leaning in the doorway of the dining hall, too stunned to move.
She had been so anxious to see Pace. It seemed like forever since she had talked to him. Yet, as she looked into his youthful face from across the room, the light of the candles on the table illuminating his innocent, and trusting eyes, she didn't know what to say to him. Her heart ached. Knowing what she knew now, she couldn't help but feel so much more protective of him now than she ever had before.
*He is only fifteen.*
All this time, he'd been playing at the role of father to Tress in place of that of being simply her older brother, because he couldn't bear the thought of her being taken away. Of losing the only family that he had left.
Fleur wondered if he would ever accept her as, not a substitute for the mother that he'd lost, but something, at least. She wanted so much for him to know that he wasn't alone anymore; had somewhere to belong.
For an instant, she asked herself if her life could really be coming together, at last. She had finally found, on Bajor, the family she had never even allowed herself to dream of.
Her surprise at seeing Pace here turned into amusement as the boy questioned Timal, and the old man stared at the last of the tea in his cup, gone cold before him as he tried to keep up.
"But who, Vedek Timal?" Pace asked at last, his words tumbling out one after another in his hurry to get them all out. "Who is worthy to be trusted with the secrets of the Celestial Temple? To become a true servant of the Prophets?"
The elderly Vedek craned his neck to look over at the young man addressing him. The skin upon his throat, so loosened with age, appeared for the moment as wrinkled as his wizened face as contemplated his answer.
He reached a hand up to the top of his nearly hairless head and furrowed his brow thoughtfully.
Then, in his own time and only when he was good and ready, he spoke three words as slowly as an ancient Blendevian Sea Tortoise.
"I don't know."
The young man sitting across the table from him blinked in surprise. He pondered how this could be possible, that someone as wise and learned in the ways of the Prophets could answer so to any question asked of him.
Then he remembered one of the first things that Vedek Jariel had ever taught him; a lesson of the Prophets that had been instilled in Jariel as a child, by the very man sitting on the opposite Pace now.
The lesson was simply that humility is the beginning of wisdom.
Admitting that you didn't know the answer to something was certainly a humble thing to do. "Huh." Pace reached up to scratch the top of his head. "Okay."
It dawned upon Fleur as she looked at Pace now just how much he must resemble Camen at that age; with his dark, angelic curls and earnest brown eyes.
She wondered if that was what Timal was thinking also, for he gazed at the boy as one might look upon an old photograph of a child they loved dearly, now grown. With wonder, astonishment, and just a little sadness.
It was Camen who finally broke the silence in the room, but only after stealing up behind Fleur and wrapping his arms around her waist. He rested his chin on her shoulder, and she turned her head back toward him, accepting a soft, warm kiss before he released her.
"Young man, it is long since past your bedtime. You must sleep if you are going to actually be awake for morning prayers." Jariel imitated the tone that Timal used to use when speaking those exact words to him, when he was Pace's age and wanted to stay up late into the night discussing the mysteries of life, the universe, and everything.
Timal was the one who laughed now. "It's good to see that you remember some of the things I taught you, Jariel Camen."
The words, though Timal meant them as praise, stung Jariel back into silence momentarily.
He knew that Timal disapproved of the distance that he had put between himself and the Prophets in recent years; even though Jariel would have objected that it was first the Prophets who set into motion the series of events that had caused him to question his life, and his faith.
"He remembers all that you taught him." Fleur interjected, watching as Pace leapt from his chair at the sound of her voice. "Among those lessons was the one that each man has to find and travel his own path. Isn't that right, Vedek Timal?"
Timal couldn't help but soften his words and expression whenever he addressed Fleur. The girl loved Bajor, and from what Pace had been telling him over the course of the evening, the feeling was truly mutual. The people of Bajor loved her, too.
"Fleur!" Pace hurried toward her, nearly knocking Camen over as he hugged the tiny Le Marc so tightly that he lifted her from the ground. "Thank the Prophets you're all right. Tressie?"
"Is sleeping nearby. She's all right, Pace." Fleur caressed the boy's cheek, which was blotchy with redness now. Pace blushed easily, and often, and Fleur had found it to be endearing from the day that she'd first met the boy. "Do you want me to take you to her?"
"No, let her sleep, I can wait a few more hours until morning." He sounded so mature, as he ever did, even as his voice broke with emotion. "Vedek Jariel, I," He paused.
He knew all that Jariel had done to bring them all back together, and he didn't know how to thank him, or those who had helped them.
Still, another emotion rose to the surface in Pace and eclipsed every other, and that feeling was a deep sense of shame.
He was ashamed of himself not only for lying continually about his age to everyone, Jariel included, but for repaying the man's openness and kindness with distrust. Distrust that, created of his fear of being separated from Tress, almost made that worst nightmare scenario come true.
"I. I'm." He stammered.
Jariel simply grasped the boy by the shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug. He slapped him on the back gently, and then the two stared at each other a long moment. It was the kind of embrace shared, not simply by friends or even a trusted mentor and a beloved protégé.
It was the kind of hug shared by a father and son.
"It's all right, Pace." Jariel assured him. "I understand what you've done, and why you've done it."
One look into Jariel's kind eyes told the boy that the man did, in fact, truly understand. Relieved, Pace turned his attention back to Fleur, reaching for her hands and holding them fast. "Please, can you forgive me, Fleur, for lying to you?"
"I can forgive you anything, Pace," Fleur whispered, as tears spilled down her cheeks. "I love you."
Pace hugged her once again. "I love you too."
Jariel allowed them a moment, stepping over toward Timal with a satisfied grin on his face. "So, old friend. How did you manage this, hm? I couldn't find the boy even tossing around names of prominent Starfleet friends of mine, or half of those in the Assembly. However in the world did you find him?"
"I still have a few friends myself, you know." Timal answered dismissively, waving his hand. "I have worked with many people over the years, running this place. People who served what is now called the Child Protection Agency before it ever existed as such. Longer than you've been alive, dear boy." Timal rebuked him gently rising slowly from his chair and tapping a crooked, gnarled index finger against Camen's forehead. "Mind who raised you."
"How could I ever forget." Jariel said softly. He leaned down, and placed a quick kiss atop Timal's shining head.
The old man shooed him away, pretending he was uncomfortable with the gesture though advancing years and the accompanying, mellow sentimentality they'd brought along with them had made him quite willing to accept any such display from those he cared for.
"Now, enough of this nonsense, Camen. We will all be too tired for morning prayers if we don't rest."
"Yes, Sir."
Camen was the closest thing he had ever or would ever have to a son, and it did Timal's heart good to see him so happy at last.
He observed mutely as Camen watched Fleur. The woman glanced at Camen adoringly, and at the sight Timal's heart ached, just a little. He knew that Jariel had found the path, at last, meant for his life and he had no doubt that in order to fully construct that life, Camen would soon be leaving Bajor again.
Timal was going to miss him very much when he had gone. Suddenly, the old soul felt overwhelmingly tired. "Yes. We must rest."
Fleur stepped forward, linking her arm with Timal's as he wavered slightly on his feet. "May I walk you back to your room, Vedek Timal?"
"I would be delighted, young Fleur. Goodnight, gentlemen."
Fleur and Timal disappeared down the hall.
"He is everything you said he was," Pace marveled. "And more."
"Yes, he is." Jariel sighed wearily. "Pace, we have a lot to talk about." The softness in his voice was now tempered with a parental sternness that was as reassuring to Pace in this moment as anything he'd ever heard in his life.
It told him that he was not the only one looking out for his future, or for Tress', anymore. He was not alone.
"Yes, Sir. Shall I meet with you before first meal?"
Jariel groaned, considering how late it was and how early first meal took place. "After first meal." Then he remembered, he had someplace he had to go in the morning.
"Wait, I have to transport back to the city very early, for Ram's hearing. I would like you to accompany me."
It was time for Pace to learn another lesson. To see a man who had once set out upon a path to serve others but who had lost his way receive recompense for his greed and dishonesty, as Ram would in the morning. Hopefully it would be a lesson that would make a deep impression upon the boy as he contemplated entering into a life of service as a Vedek.
Pace's face registered his surprise. "As you wish, Vedek."
"Pace," Jariel once again stopped walking and grasped the boy by the shoulders. "Just up the hall sleeps a little girl, and will soon also sleep, well," Jariel smiled wistfully, "a slightly taller, grown woman."
Pace laughed gently, thinking of the tiny but powerful Le Marc.
"I love them both, and I know that you do too." Jariel continued. "Is that correct?"
Pace nodded, his heart too full to speak.
"So, being that we share those feelings and have both, and will both, do all that we can to care for and protect those two ladies, that means we are family now as well. Are we not?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Then, you must stop calling me Vedek. I would never ask you to," he stopped suddenly. He knew that he never could, nor would he ever try, to take the place that Pace's father had held in his life or heart. "You can call me what you wish, but not that."
"Vedek Jariel, I cannot," Pace objected again, just as he had before when Jariel had brought this topic up. Yet, seeing how important it seemed to the man who meant so much to him, this time he agreed. "I'll try to remember, Sir."
"Thank you." Jariel followed as Pace led him down to the door of Timal's room, where a cot had been set up for him for the night until other arrangements could be made. "Sleep well, Pace. Meet me out front at oh-five-hundred."
"Camen," Pace called softly as Jariel turned away, then back toward him at the sound.
The name formed with surprising ease upon Pace's lips, even though he still felt uncomfortable using it. He imagined that it might not take as long to get used to this as he'd thought.
"Yes, Pace?"
"Thank you."
--------------------
Fleur Le Marc
Currently on Bajor
Fleur Le Marc
Currently on Bajor