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Caelum Lex Pt. 2 Chapter 28: Moving Forward

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At first, Leta didn't know what awoke her in the darkness of the room. An incoming call? Noisy deckhands, drinking downstairs? But then she turned on her side and realized it was Fiearius - or rather, an absence of Fiearius. His side of the bed lay empty and cold, merely a mess of blankets, even though it was past three and they'd gone to bed together an hour before. Blinking her eyes rapidly, and feeling suddenly curious, she sat up and put her feet to the floor.

He wasn't in the bridge. The hallways were silent as she wandered downstairs; she only heard Rhys mumbling drunkenly in his sleep from the crew deck. Finally, it was the distinct clatter of pots and pans that made her veer toward the doorway of the kitchen.

Sure enough, he stood at the counter, his back to her as he busied himself with a mixing bowl. He seemed oddly urgent and purposeful, like he was hurriedly preparing a meal for a guest. When she said, "Fiear?" he threw her a look over his shoulder.

"Oh, hey. Sorry, did I wake you?"

"Not really." She folded her arms. "But it's three in the morning, what're you doing down here?"

"Makin' an omelette." He held out the bowl of eggs, and something about him seemed off - the odd brightness in his eyes, how twitchy he was.

When he turned back to the counter, Leta said, "What's the matter?"

"What? Nothing."

"You're stress cooking. You're the only person I know who cooks when they're stressed."

He made a noise of amusement. Leta sidled up to his side, her hand slipping over his shoulder. "Well, do you need some help?"

Fiearius paused as his knife sliced through an onion and he eyed her sideways. "From you? Probably more help if you don't."

Leta rolled her eyes. He chuckled and went back to chopping. "Can keep me company if ya like though," he added, nodding towards a nearby chair.

Leta lowered into the seat, watching as Fiearius poured eggs into a sizzling pan. She thought she had a rather good idea of what was bothering him.

"I haven't been sleeping well either," she admitted plainly. "Not since …. well, not since we pissed off one of the most powerful organizations in the Span, started flying on the edge of space to stay off their radar and as of yet, still have no plans for what to do next. It's been on my mind, too."

"Oh yeah?" Fiearius asked. "And?"

"And I don't know. I did hear from Ren - turns out, the Carthians are starting to win the border skirmishes," said Leta, unsure if she should have been proud or terrified of this news. "With the Society's base gone, they're gaining territory for the first time in decades. Because of us. Because of what we did."

Fiearius gave a short, dry laugh. "I'm sure the great Carthian military really appreciates the help of a bunch of space trash criminals, hm?"

Leta felt herself smile. "Speak for yourself. I'm still a respected physician."

"Like hell you are."

Her smile fell away as she shook her head, suddenly feeling wide-awake and completely overwhelmed. "After Blackwater," she breathed, "it feels like we just poked a sleeping giant."

Fiearius snorted. "I'd say more lightly snoozing than sleeping, but the point remains: we're in a pretty high danger zone of being crushed…"

"So what now, then? We back out? Hide?"

Fiearius laid his knife down upon the cutting board and braced his hands upon the counter. "I'm not even sure that's an option."

"What do you mean?"

He glanced over at her. "The damage is done. And there's nowhere we can hide they won't eventually find us.. Our movement is limited. Quin - my best contact - won't work with me unless I'm helping her steal more Society property. My other contacts are getting twitchy too. And on top of it all, the entire Span knows or soon will know just how much the Society's willing to pay for our heads. So we can't trust anyone." He shook his head and tossed the ingredients into the pan. "There's no way back from this."

"So we can't go back. Then what?"

For several seconds, Fiearius said nothing. Then he muttered, "Don't get me wrong. Dez is nuts. Completely. But...something about what he said. I can't get it out of my head…"

"About fighting back?"

"It's insane," he said firmly. "And impossible. But...I don't know. Something about it. It resonated."

Leta waited, and Fiearius went on, "This whole rallying people thing he keeps saying. It's ridiculous and not going to happen. But just about going after them?" He sighed and spun a spatula around in his hand thoughtfully. "I don't know. Maybe Quin's right. We've done it before, if we're careful, if we're smart, we could probably do it again. And I can't deny there's something satisfying about pissing them off."

"Well, I won't argue with that."

"There's definitely an appeal to it," he said, turning to face her and leaning against the counter as the pan behind him sizzled. "And part of me thinks well...really, there's not much we can do now as it is. We've already crossed the threshold. Maybe...maybe we really should just keep going forward?" His eyes trailed downward and he fell quiet until at last he looked up at her and asked earnestly, "Is that incredibly stupid?"

"It's a little stupid," Leta said, making a wry grin break over Fiearius' scruffy face. "But I'm with you. I don't want to back away, either."

"Dov'ha piamé, thank the gods, I thought I might be going nuts too," Fiearius said with a relieved laugh as he turned back to the stove.

"You are nuts. It's dangerous. It could be very dangerous. But so is running."

"Exactly," Fiearius agreed. "They're going to kill us no matter what. Might as well make a dent in their egos before they manage. What else are we going to do?"

"I don't plan on letting them kill me, Fiear," said Leta sharply. "But I know how you feel."

"I'm just getting so tired of running," Fiearius sighed. He flipped the cooked omelette onto a plate, plucked two forks from the sink and turned to her. "Running for what? Survival. That's it. But what's the point of survival if I'm not even going to do something with it. Something besides petty crime, that is."

He dropped into the chair across from her and handed her a fork. When he sat back, he did not reach for his food, but simply gazed over at her. His eyes were blazing with - worry? Alarm? Leta wasn't sure she'd seen him look at her so gravely, like he was staring right through her.

"So you're with me on this?" he asked. "You think we should give it a shot? We should take the offense against the Society?"

"It's more than revenge now," said Leta quietly. "Now we might actually make a difference."

"And even if we don't, at least we tried. At least we did something. It won't likely be justice. I don't think we'll ever find justice but...at least a piece of it. Tiny as it may be."

He still looked troubled. Leta leaned her hand across the table and squeezed his wrist.

Finally, twenty minutes later, Leta stood up and took their plates to the sink, and together they walked back upstairs. She thought by the time they returned to his bedroom, Fiearius would have relaxed. She thought he would've yawned and thrown himself onto the bed like he always did, a tangle of limbs, and pulled her in to snore into her hair until morning came.

But instead, he wandered a few useless steps over the floor, his hand caught in his hair. He looked lost even in his own room.

"Something's still bothering you," said Leta, closing the hatch behind her. She watched Fiearius closely as he turned around to face her, his expression dark and empty. "Tell me."

He lowered his hand from his hair and sighed, a long exhale of breath. Then he said, to her shock, "You know about Denarian, don't you? My son?"

Leta blinked her eyes slowly, as if in a dream. Yes, she knew about Fiearius' lost son - because Cyrus had let it drunkenly slip months ago. But she'd never once spoken about this with Fiearius. He'd never approached the topic and she had no desire to bring him to face it.

She felt too startled to speak, so Fiearius went on, "Remember a couple weeks ago, when Corra made that joke about the two of us having a litter of children one day? But then said she couldn't imagine me ever raising a kid?" Leta felt herself nod. "The way you looked at me then...I just assumed you knew. So. Cyrus told you?"

Well, she couldn't outright lie to him.

"He did tell me. I'm really sorry, Fiear, I should have told you I knew but it didn't feel right. He told me months ago. When I first came aboard … when I barely knew you."

Fiearius shook his head. "It's fine. It's probably easier this way anyhow. The thought of having to bring it up cold after all this time is...considerably worse."

He slowly lowered to the edge of the bed, resting his forearms on his thighs. He scrunched his forehead and went on, "But for the record, sorry on my part too. For not telling you myself. It's-it's not always that easy to talk about."

Leta stepped forward and tentatively joined him on the edge of the bed, facing him as he stared at the floor. "I figured you had your reasons," she said, watching as Fiearius dropped his forehead into his hand.

"I put a lot of effort into not focusing on the day - the day he died. The day that everything went to hell. It comes and goes each year and I don't let it bog me down. I can't or…" He swallowed with difficulty. "But this day. Today. Today I just can't seem to let go."

Leta felt almost too scared to ask. "Why?"

"He would have been nine today."

Leta felt her lungs tighten. Then, all at once, a tidal wave of sorrow plunged through her. Grief - that's what this was. Fiearius was grieving. Over his son. On his birthday. That's why he'd been so off tonight, quietly unsettled, agitated and distant. He simply missed his child.

Leta opened her mouth, then closed it again, as she slid her hand up his back and held onto his shoulder. He must have read the questioning in her eyes, because he said -

"He was shot," he said suddenly, looking up at her with a deadened gaze. "That's what you were wondering right? How he died? I once told you the reason I became the Verdant. Because they gave me an offer I couldn't refuse?" He looked away. "He was the offer. Him and Aela." A heavy, shaky sigh passed his lips. "Though in the end it didn't work out anyway…"

Leta focused on pushing air out of her lungs - it was suddenly very difficult.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, her breath catching hotly in her throat as her eyes dropped to the floor, almost unwilling to look at him for a moment. "I'm so sorry."

She leaned into him, dropping her lips against his shoulder. Fiearius seemed grateful to bury his face in her hair and when he spoke again, it was quiet, muffled and starting to crack with real, raw pain.

"I don't deserve 'sorry.' It's my fault."

"That's not true," said Leta in his ear. "You can't blame yourself for what happened."

"Can't I? I brought a child into a dangerous situation, he was my responsibility that I took and I failed to protect him. Because I was overconfident and stubborn. Because I refused to listen. Because I didn't do what needed to be done until it was too late."

Leta drew back, her hands on his shoulders. She locked her gaze with him and saw that his eyes were bloodshot and blurring.

"Fiearius, no. How could you have known what would happen? If anyone's to blame it's the Society. They used him against you."

"The Society may have pulled the trigger," he breathed, "but I loaded the gun."

Then he dropped his chin to his chest, his voice choking. "He was a good kid. A great kid." She could hear the tears thickening his voice. "I mean, he was a nightmare. Of course. How could my son not be? But still great."

Finally he looked up, straight at the ceiling. "I just wanted him to have a normal life, y'know? As normal as he could anyway. He liked swings and spaceships and cake, just regular kid stuff. He may have had my destructive energy, but he had Aela's charm. And brains. She taught him to read before he even started school. He was smart. Gifted, she said. He could've gone on to so many better things." He was shaking his head and barely holding it together now. "But I fucked it up. She kept telling me we needed to leave, move away from Paradiex, but I didn't want to. I was too selfish. Too power-hungry. And Denarian paid for my sins."

Leta took his hands and held them in her lap. He drew in a shaky breath and lifted his eyes back to hers. "You would've liked him, I think. Never met anyone who didn't. And he would've been fascinated by you. Anyone from another planet and he was just full of questions."

"I'm sure I would've liked him," said Leta, her voice hovering somewhere between fondness and incredible sorrow. "And I know you were a good father." Even saying the words was enough to make her throat swell for a moment, a knife through her chest.

Fiearius inhaled another trembling breath. "Sorry to dump all this on you."

"You don't need to apologize."

"I just - miss him. He was everything to me. That life with him that's so distant and so unfamiliar it hardly even feels like mine anymore...it was everything."

"Then I think it's good to talk about him. To remember him. As often as you need to. And when we bite back against the Society … we can do it for him. So what happened to him will never happen again to anyone else."

"Yeah," Fiearius agreed, taking in deep breaths and finally managing to get them even. "Yeah. You're right. You're absolutely right." He pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, then released. "I'm okay. It's okay." He looked down at their hands laced together and gripped hers tighter. "We'll do it for Denarian."

Leta bit down on her bottom lip. "And listen, I know nothing can replace him, ever - ever... But - I still think you should remember, that you're surrounded by people - Suddenly, she locked on her gaze on his, her eyes shining with vulnerability and honesty, "people who love you."

The words tumbled out before she could stop them, but she did not take them back. She went still, paralyzed with the realization of what she'd just confessed.

Fiearius blinked his eyes slowly and then - she couldn't believe it - the smallest of teasing grins flickered past his mouth. "People?" he repeated suspiciously. "Who love me? You mean … Cyrus?"

"Right. Cyrus," said Leta quietly. "That's who I meant."

Fiearius laughed, heavy and feeble, as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "Ooh, Leta. You poor thing." He patted her back affectionately, then pulled her in so she leaned into the plane of his chest.

"It's rather unfortunate," she sighed. Then she glanced up at him. "Wait, hang on. You just - you've never used my name before."

"What?" He tilted his head. "Sure I have."

"No, you haven't. You never call me by my name."

"I must've."

"No. It's only 'kiddo' which I hate, or 'doctor,' which is weird now, but never my name."

Fiearius considered this. "Well I guess I should amend that, huh, Leta?" he said, and then he leaned his head against hers. "Don't you think, Leta?" he said softly in her ear. "I should use your name more often. Leta?"

"I don't know," she laughed, shrugging him off. "It's a little odd to hear it now."

Fiearius returned the laugh. "Is it, Leta?" Then, his expression shifted from amusement to something else - something closer to mischief.

"You sure about that, Leta?" he said more quietly, as he turned his head to the side, brushing his lips near her ear. "I can stop if you'd like, Leta," he went on, lowering his lips to the slope of her neck, his voice muffled against her skin. "Leta?" he added once more, before his mouth slid to the hollow of her collarbone. The sensation brought a shiver to her flesh.

"I changed my mind," said Leta decisively. "I'm fine with it. Call me whatever you want."

She felt him grin against her collarbone before he slid his hands up her back, holding her against him as he kissed back up to her lips. Leta circled her arm around his shoulders and drew him to her lips for a long, slow kiss. His hand pressed to the small of her back and inch by inch, with each utterance of her name and each following kiss, he lowered her horizontal onto the bed.


Early the next morning, Fiearius did not hesitate. Quietly as he could, he slid his arms away from Leta's sleeping figure and dressed quickly in the dark. Seconds later, he was descending the staircase to the lowest deck, his feet pounding down the metal steps. Even at this early hour, he guessed the observation deck would not be empty, and sure enough ...

Dez was in upon the bench facing the great black window, reading a book. Fiearius approached, dropped his hand into his pocket and tossed the bottle of pills into his lap.

"Here," he said abruptly. "I'm not taking these anymore. You can keep 'em."

He turned on his heel to leave but Dez spoke up, sounding curious.

"Can I ask why?"

Fiearius turned back, frowning. There was a multitude of reasons to refuse Flush, especially after last night. The burn of Leta's green eyes flashed through his mind.

But all he said was, "Because I don't need it anymore. My legs are fully healed."

"Do you not remember the last time you went cold turkey?"

He meant the withdrawals. Of course Fiearius remembered. He'd been bedridden in excruciating pain for nearly a month. Aela had been forced to restrain him to keep him from injuring himself. Flush on its own hit hard and he'd seen first hand that its withdrawal hit harder.

But that didn't change his decision.

"Thanks for the concern, but I'll manage," he said briskly as he moved toward the door. He'd have to manage. And hope to the gods it wouldn't be so agonizing this time.

"Perhaps," Dez mused with a shrug. "What about today?"

For the second time, Fiearius froze on the edge of the doorway. "What about today?"

"Will you manage today?" Dez asked as though it were the most mundane question in the Span. When Fiearius said nothing, he went on, "I cared for him too. Whether you'd like to believe that or not."

Fiearius slowly turned around, shocked. But of course, Dez had been a part of Denarian's life. A most unlikely babysitter, but the kid had been fond of him. It was something Fiearius had long forgotten. He had a hard enough time holding onto his own memories of Denarian, let alone memories of Denarian and a very different Desophyles than the one that stood before him now.

"For what little it's worth, I'm sorry for what happened to him," Dez continued as Fiearius fixed his stare on him. "I'm not sure I ever had the chance to say it. But I'm sorry. He was a good person. He didn't deserve such a cruel fate."

Fiearius moved his eyes past Dez. He couldn't bring himself to meet his gaze. "No," was all he managed. "No he didn't."

"I won't soon forget the day I first met him. Barely three days old. Tiny and fragile and a funny shade of pink." Dez frowned. "He then proceeded to piss on me."

At that, Fiearius couldn't hold back a pained laugh. "He always was a good judge of character."

"Especially for someone so very small," Dez agreed.

"D'ya remember Architan?" Fiearius asked suddenly.

"Was that the vile monkey toy you bought him? That made the screeching noise?"

"That's the one. Y'know he only liked that stupid monkey because you told him you hated it so much."

Dez raised his brows with interest. "Like father like son I suppose."

Fiearius shrugged a shoulder, feeling his spirits lighten. He'd never been able to speak to anyone about Denarian quite like this. Not since he'd passed. No one on the Dionysian had ever known him. They weren't a part of that chapter of his life and today of all days, there was something incredibly relieving to be found in the company of someone who had been.

But as relieved as he may have been, the seed of doubt started to sprout when Dez asked, "Have you decided what you intend to do next?"

Fiearius' jaw tightened. "I have," was all he said.

"And?"

But before Fiearius would give him the benefit of an answer, he had to know. He stepped forward, full of steel.

"First, tell me why. Why you want to-I don't know, what are you trying to do? Get supporters? Start a rebellion against the Society or something? Why?"

Dez lowered the book in his lap and sat up straighter. "You of all people, who would have his son by his side today were it not for the Society, have to ask me that?"

Anger struck him, but Fiearius' voice was even when he said, "You don't want a rebellion for my son."

"Not only for your son, no," said Dez. "But you weren't the only one to lose someone to the Society."

At that, Fiearius bit the inside of his mouth and went coldly quiet.

It was too easy to forget about Dez's family. They too had paid debts to the Society in blood. Dez had four brothers. Two of them had been killed in action as Internal Affairs agents. A third had been taken out by one of their Internal coworkers for accidentally leaking information. As far as Fiearius knew, only Dez's youngest sibling and his mother survived.

But it still didn't add up. "You were the most loyal agent out there for years," said Fiearius sharply. "Since you joined. Through all the deaths. What changed?"

"I was shown the right path," said Dez simply.

Fiearius groaned and put his hand over his eyes. "Oh not this again. So that's the answer? The dov'ha told you to do it?"

"Just because you've strayed from your faith doesn't mean you should insult mine."

"Didn't have much faith to stray from," Fiearius muttered, but Dez had already went on.

"The dov'ha told me nothing, but they made clear to me the path that we are on. The path we have always been on. When I saw you under the effects of the ARC treatment, I understood. All the lives that we have taken, the deaths we have claimed, the deaths we have caused. Don't you see? Everything has lead us to this moment. Losing Denarian, losing my brothers, losing our power, it was all inevitable. And now is our moment to mend what we have broken."

"So it's vengeance," Fiearius said bluntly. "You could just say you want vengeance, y'know."

"It's more than vengeance, Fiearius. It's justice. It's our divine calling. You can try to swerve away from the path as much as you like, but you'll always come back to it. You'll complete the circle eventually."

Fiearius just shook his head. "Good to know you're still nuts. At least some things never change," he muttered. "But I'm not looking to overthrow anything. Nor am I going to 'rally' anybody. Or start anything. And it's sure as hell not any circle. But." He took a deep breath. "I have decided we'll be moving forward with this attacking the Society thing." At Dez's satisfied smirk, he snapped, "But only because we have no other choice."

"Of course," Dez admitted, his tone laced with innocence. "Whatever lie you need to tell yourself to complete the dov'ha's will. However. If you intend to continue on this path, you'll need this back."

He stood up and held out the small pill bottle.

"No," Fiearius said simply. "No, I really won't."

"You're better on it Fiearius and you know it. You'll be at a disadvantage if you're not."

"No. I won't."

"If you don't take it, you won't have the focus to complete this."

"Don't care."

He thrust it at him again. "You must take it, Fiearius." But Fiearius knocked it out of his hand. As the bottle fell to the floor with a clatter, Dez observed him skeptically.

And then, his voice colder than ice, he asked, "It's because of her isn't it?"

Fiearius' body went very still. "Excuse me?" he asked, daring him to go on.

Dez leveled him a steady, knowing stare. "It's because of the girl. Your little mistake. You're afraid it'll upset her."

Fiearius took a step closer to him. "If I were you," he growled, "I'd watch what I-"

"She's leading you in the wrong direction, Fiearius. She's weak. She can't do what needs to be done. You and I are on this path because we're prepared for it. She is not. She will slow you down and trip you up again and again."

"She's not weak," Fiearius spat, his fist twitching at his side. A few more words and Fiearius knew it would have been his job to plant it in Dez's face. "Why don't you just-"

"She's drawn you in with empty promises of love and affection, but if she truly knew you, she would leave in a heartbeat. You keep yourself from her and you know it. You hide your darker edges," he gestured towards the Flush on the floor, "because you know she'd turn her back on you if she knew."

With a growl, Fiearius stepped forward and seized Dez's collar, tugging him towards him. "You best mind your words, Dez - "

"Yes," Dez agreed, unphased by the physical contact. "And you best mind your nature."

With another growl, Fiearius released him and pushed him away. He could think of nothing left to do but turn on his heel and stalk from the room, his mind racing.


Caelum Lex, the sci-fi, adventure, action, romance, space pirate serial! Chapter 28 of Part 2! In which Fiearius gets some perspective, some of which he wasn't expecting.

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MimmiMeArt's avatar
Aww...:cries: 
That was so sad...

And then Dez was really nice...:la:
Why did he have to turn into an ass again...? ^^;