Chapter 8 – Cosmic Alignment #3
"Sashen is warm," she whined, pressing her frigid feet harder into my skin. "And I'm a cold cloud." The skin of her feet felt scaled, different than what I knew Araxis's skin felt like on his hands, his arms. Were there scales just in certain places, I wondered, or did it depend on someone's age?
"Here, give me your foot." I set my cup down, the sweet steam curling above the low table.
Adrathi squirmed on the ground so that her back was perpendicular to my lap, her legs folded up over my thigh.
I rubbed my hands together, huffed a breath into them, and rubbed them some more.
And then I picked up her foot – the pad she walked on not much bigger than my hand – and I rubbed her toes vigorously between my palms.
Adrathi trilled, giggling and squirming.
"Do the other one!" she cried when I stopped, and so I did, and then Talvi was begging for a turn.
Even Sadin asked if I could make his feet cozy, so it didn't take long for me to have three giggling, squirming children pooled around me while Araxis watched, looking a little dazed.
The moment I picked up my tea, which was rapidly cooling, the children launched into a series of rapid-fire questions between cleaning out the rest of the bowls on the table.
"Do humans have dreams?"
"Yes."
"Do humans have bad dreams?"
"Sometimes."
"Do humans sleep?"
"Yup, quite a bit."
"Do humans hibernate?"
"No."
"Do humans have ears?"
"Hm," I said, tapping my ear thoughtfully. "I don't know." That won a prolonged trill from Sadin, who'd asked the question and was clearly the resident troublemaker.
"Do humans have claws?"
"No, but we have fingernails. See? They're made from keratin, which is what our hair is made from.
" This little fact won some careful studying as Talvi and Adrathi took turns examining every inch of my hand, before Sadin grabbed the other one and started poking my nails suspiciously, before tugging gently at a curl of hair. He seemed skeptical.
"Do humans… have blood?"
"Yes."
"Do humans burp?"
"Yup."
"Do humans pee?"
"Ah," said Araxis sagely, "I see where this is going." I snorted, grinning.
"Do humans poop?" And then all three children were lost in trilling laughter, writhing and wiggling and huffing for air.
"Sashen has had enough questions. Sadin, Talvi, Adrathi: gather the bowls and take them to the kitchen. Put them in the cleaning compartment. I will check it's been done correctly when you come back, and if you have done well, I will give you each a treat. Is this fair?"
They didn't answer, immediately scrambling to grab and stack all of the bowls and dashing toward the kitchen.
I winced at the clattering sounds, but Araxis looked relaxed and unworried, so maybe the clay bowls were a little sturdier than I'd first thought.
I shifted my seat toward the corner of the table so that I sat closer to Araxis, who was watching the kitchen door, bemused.
He glanced back at me and reached for the shallow bowl on the tray.
"Here," he murmured. "Give me your hand. "
I obeyed, and he dipped the soft cloth into the water, stroking the skin of my hand gently.
He rotated my wrist, dragging the fabric over the hills and valleys of my palm.
Behind us, I could hear the children clattering around in the kitchen, the sound fuzzing out as Araxis touched me.
He set my hand down carefully, and reached for the other.
"Well," I said, voice a little hoarse as a distant crash echoed from the kitchen and one of the children screeched, "so much for a romantic dinner."
His stare drifted up to me slowly, sly. He didn't seem bothered by the chaos the children were causing, and I found it hard to care about much of anything when he was holding me so gently and touching me with such tenderness. Such care.
"That is was this was, right?" I asked, voice low. In the kitchen, Sadin was saying something very stern in abayan, and Adrathi's whine carried even out here. Araxis finished dragging the cloth across my palm, setting it aside gently.
Araxis was flushed silver, his body angled toward mine; his fingers, normally cold, felt warm against my skin. "Would you want it to be?" he asked, his voice quiet – just for the two of us.
I could play coy or make him say it first, but the pull I felt toward him made all of that feel – foolish. Why would I play games when we had so little time left, and when he was, in every way, perfection?
"I would very much like that." One of his forearms was resting on the dining table, loosely holding the delicate cup that now held only dregs of tea.
I reached and ran my fingers against the soft skin inside of his wrist. His breath caught in his throat for a moment, and then he purred a soft, contented sound, rotating his wrist under my touch so that I might trace the skin of his palm, an echo of how he'd touched me.
Our eyes met, my fingers travelling the planes of his hand, the raised calluses and the delicate lines, and I wanted nothing more in that moment than to kiss him with all the tenderness he deserved.
"We're done!"
Araxis carefully slid his hand out from under my touch, and stood to check the state of the kitchen. As he drifted by me, he let his fingers trail over the exposed skin at the back of my neck, and I shivered.
"Very good," I heard him say, and then he continued in abayan, the children trilling happily as he fetched them something out of a cupboard. They were out the doorway in a flash, but Araxis hadn't even made it back to his seat before Sadin reappeared, hauling Adrathi and Talvi behind him.
"Thank you for sharing your meal with us, Sashen," Sadin said firmly, ducking his head in a little bow.
Adrathi and Talvi did the same, repeating after him.
"And thank you for feet cozies," chirped Talvi, and then they all tromped off, the sound of their laughter and conversation echoing through the quiet, dark ship.
Araxis settled beside me again, pouring us each a new cup of steaming tea. It was earthy and mellow, with a faint smoky sweetness. I was sure I'd crave it once I was off the ship.
"I continue to be struck by the readiness with which your species adores children," said Araxis after a moment.
He had positioned himself so that our shoulders were nearly touching, though we were sitting on different sides of the table.
"It is uncommon, among abaya and many other species, to see such…
affection for children that are not one's own.
It is beautiful, Sashen, to see you care for the children of Creche Thiel. "
I didn't know what to do with that or the ache it spurred inside my chest. "They're easy to love," I murmured, shifting so that my knee brushed against his, and I was rewarded when he flushed pink in the dim light.
But there was a question gnawing at the edges of my mind, and I couldn't think of a better time to ask.
I was pretty sure Araxis wouldn't throw me out an airlock now, no matter how clumsily I went about asking questions.
"Talvi showed me the hidden room, between the first and second decks. "
Araxis's colour drained. "Ah," he said, without elaborating.
So I pushed a little. "They said that all three of them would have to hide there if you came across another abayan ship.
I'm guessing that's why we had to avoid being seen when we left Yellow Fin.
Why? Feel free to tell me it's not any of my business, but…
you're right, I care about them. Are they in danger? "
Of course, it wasn't like I could do anything if they were. I couldn't even save my own neck, but thinking about those children having to hide, huddled and scared, made something deep inside me light up with fury, and I would have done anything to keep them from that.
He shifted, his knee moving away from my own and I had one moment of wishing I'd kept my damn mouth shut before Araxis reached out and touched my hand.
Gentle, but not tentative. "Please don't think less of Vivith when I explain.
I am… pleased that you care. Drink your tea.
" He nudged my hand toward the cup, and I was happy to obey.
I suspected, though, that I'd soon be thinking less of Vivith. That seemed only fair, given what Vivith seemed to think of me.
"Vivith is cinelaat, and while not all cinelaat feel the need to be a parent, Vivith has known since we were hatchlings together, fresh from our eggs, that they would be called to raise children.
" Araxis twisted his own cup, tea cooling as he seemed to study its reddish colour.
"But the chance to do so was taken from them when our creche was stricken from the Hall of Records and barred from the Assembly.
With the head of house's consent, any cinelaat might petition one of the hatcheries for eggs, but a cinelaat from a dishonoured creche had no hope. "
"You said some parts of Creche Thiel joined other houses. Vivith didn't want to?"
Araxis fluted out a breath, like a sigh, irritation pinching the skin between his eyes.
"It would have been – difficult for them to find a creche that would take them in.
As cinelaat, and for sinnenthi like me, we are…
coloured by the actions of our head of house.
Her perceived wrongs became ours. But we were young, so Vivith might have been able to find a new creche.
" He paused, tracing a ring of water on the table with one long finger.
"They have also told me they felt they could not leave me on my own.
Egnax was quite insulted until Evreni reminded her that all our remaining creche-mates are much older.
Vivith is the only member of Creche Thiel near my age, and we came up together from the same clutch.
We are siblings, not just creche-mates."