Summary:  C/P, A/K,  KT's CPSG "Halloween" challenge.  Part Twelve:  Destiny.
Author's Note:  For my good friend, Shayenne, a new A/K fan.
Copyright November 2001 Cassatt

Tom tossed the last few pieces of his underwear into the duffle, burying those souvenirs he had decided to take back to Voyager with them. They would be a surprise for Chakotay. He'd scanned everything for known pathogens, and any unknown ones would be filtered out once they transported back home. All that was left of his things was his uniform, which he took out of the wardrobe along with Chakotay's, after checking corners to make sure they hadn't left anything behind. He laid out the red and black and gray clothing and sighed.

These two sets of sewn fabric were, literally, the only things about the two of them that were the same. Their insignias differed, even irrelevant of their rank. Everything else about them differed as well. Or so it seemed at that moment. He sat heavily on the bed and fingered Chakotay's sleeve. What the hell was going to happen to them once they returned to the ship? How were people going to react to having their Chief Helmsman and First Officer come back to them, essentially married? And since when did he care so much? He flopped backward and stared at the carved ceiling of their room. Since he'd admitted aloud that he was in deep and abiding love with the man whom the entire crew looked up to. He'd rather die than do anything to take that away from Chakotay. He knew his lover needed it, as much as the air he breathed. He was a born leader.

Maybe he could talk to his falcon about some of this. The bird had promised him perspective, after all. The door opened, but before he could raise himself, the very same dark haired, tattooed, gorgeous hunk had crawled right up onto the bed and was straddling him, grinning from ear to ear. Full out dimples. Leaning over him, tantalizingly.

"What the hell are you grinning about," he asked, amazed at the change in the man.

"It's too bad we didn't have some sort of wager, about Harry and Greg, that is."

Tom slapped him on the arm. "What, what did you see? What did I miss?" He was kicking himself for not sticking to the man like glue.

"What's it worth?" Chakotay waggled his eyebrows. Tom laughed out loud. If the crew could see this man now.

He pretended to think. "Um, breakfast in bed for a week?"

"My, you are desperate for some gossip, aren't you," Chakotay teased. "Okay, breakfast in bed, served naked, by you, for a week and I'll tell you. Deal?"

"Does that include dessert?"

"Dessert will be negotiated..." Chakotay slid down until he was resting on his elbows on either side of Tom's head, then fell on his mouth, kissing him deeply. The taste of him, the smell of him - and Tom was ready to give the man food for a month. The kiss was stopped. "Deal?" his lover whispered.

Tom nodded. "Deal."

Chakotay grinned again. "I just interrupted a most interesting scene. Picture this - Harry, our sweet Harry, pinned to the wall by Gregory the loyal, tongues fully engaged, hips thrusting, so tightly pressed I'm surprised he could breathe. Plus sound effects! Yes, my love, I think we will very definitely be double dating those two."

Tom was stunned. Harry? Going at it like a dog in heat in public? "Sound effects?"

"Oh, yeah. Moans and groans. It was something."

"Jesus, he must have been mortified..."

"Harry? Yes, he was. I did my best to reassure him he hadn't lost any stature in my eyes. Hell, what could I say? Ensign, you just made me want to run upstairs and jump my lover's bones? He'll be fine. Greg, of course, could have cared less. Harry's got his hands full with that man." Chakotay shook his head, still smiling. "But - in my opinion? They're a good match. Very good. We'll have to watch 'em and make sure they don't screw it up somehow." He stroked Tom's cheek tenderly.

Tom's throat closed, but for entirely different reasons than an hour before. He swallowed. "I love you, Chakotay," he said quietly.

He got lost in the brown-black eyes looking intently into his. In the natural lighting, he imagined he could see even more of Chakotay in them than before. He reveled in the large hand that so gently brushed over his face and wondered how he ever could have thought this man was rough. In the mouth that so sweetly took his. In the love he felt radiating from him.

"I love you, too, Tom," Chakotay said as the kiss finally ended. He smiled. "So. Are you ready to take a walk and fulfill our destiny? Our other destiny," he amended softly.

Tom nodded. I'll go anywhere with you. Do anything for you. Period.

"Mr. Neelix," Tuvok said gently, "you are incorrect in your assumption. We would not have been better off without you or Kes. On the contrary, I am certain that we would not have survived."

Neelix's response was to shake his head into the pillow. "Kes was a gift to everyone. Bringing her on board was the only good thing I've done. I'll grant you that. But no, you all would have managed just fine without me. Can manage..."

At least he had gotten the Talaxian to talk, which was the successful completion of the first step in his plan. "You are incorrect. Your guidance was extremely important in the beginning years of our existence in the Delta Quadrant. We would have been killed many times over without your assistance."

Neelix was quiet for a few minutes. "And now? I'm expendable. The captain is getting rid of me, I'll lose everything ..."

"No. You are here, on Umbra, with me. Do you hear me?"

After another minute, Neelix nodded. "But she could get rid of me, I'd be alone again, and no one would even notice..."

"Mr. Neelix. I comprehend just how ... difficult ... it is to feel the emotions that you're dealing with at present. But please do not add insult to injury."

Neelix rolled over and looked at him. Tuvok actually felt his chest constrict for a moment to see what was in the man's eyes. "What do you mean?"

"It is presumptuous of you to decide how the other members of your crew would react to your absence. In some cultures, it could be considered an insult," he said, consciously keeping his voice low.

Studying the spotted hands in front of him, as if he'd never seen them before, Neelix said nothing. But Tuvok was not going to let him retreat again. He did something that came as a complete surprise to them both. He reached out and placed his hand over Neelix's.

Harry's arms were plastered against the wall of the kitchen. It was his last ditch effort to keep standing and it was barely working. It was only the thought that if he fell, the sensations of Greg's tongue and mouth moving on his erection would stop. He couldn't stop. He'd long given up that pretense. He didn't care who was where right then. He was here, Greg was working him like an expert and he was about to scream at the top of his lungs. Greg took him in even further and he felt his climax reach the base of his cock and begin it's journey upward. He forced his eyes open and looked down. Greg had taken out his own erection and was pumping furiously while sucking him. It was too much. His knees buckled again, the very moment he came, exploding over and over against the back of Greg's throat, making some loud noise. A scream? He had no idea. He landed on the floor.

Just as they reached the front door, they both heard it. Chakotay looked at Tom, and returned his grin. "Wasn't Greg," he stated.

Tom's eyebrows did a fair imitation of Tuvok's. "And how do you know that?"

He opened the door and they walked onto the porch. "I just do." He was about to head down the stairs when the pull of Tom's hand in his stopped their forward momentum.

"And how do you know that," Tom repeated, his voice getting a dangerous edge to it.

"Tom. Not from personal experience. Not exactly. Come on."  He tugged. Tom relented on the movement issue only.

"Not exactly? How? Exactly."

They hit the bottom of the stairs and started across the lawn. The sun was wonderful. Chakotay marshaled his thoughts. "In the Maquis. Before you showed up. Not that that has anything to do with anything. Greg and I took an opportunity presented to us, and visited a brothel that catered to, well, any client. We needed it, and had come to the conclusion that we didn't want it from each other. Too complicated. So, we were treated by two young men. I got to hear. Exactly. Okay?"

But Tom was quiet for too many steps.

"Tom? You feeling jealous?"

At that the younger man stopped their progress again. "Look, Chak. See these blue eyes? They're actually green. Green, green, green. Damned fucking right I'm jealous! Of everyone who's ever laid a hand on you, or lips on you, or any other body part! I can't stand it! Happy?!"

He yanked Tom close to him, wrapping one arm around his chest while the other pulled their pelvises tightly together with a hand on Tom's ass. He raised his eyes upward slightly to look into the ones in question. "Happy?" he said. "Yes and no. Mine are just as green. But I don't care..."

Tom dipped his head and kissed him. Pried his lips open and sent his tongue to plunder. He gave as good as he got, willingly, until he could feel his erection forming too quickly. Spirits, get this day over with... He pulled back.

"Just so we understand each other, Chak," Tom said a little breathlessly. "Maybe in a month we can share stories. But not yet."

"Understood, Tom. As long as you remember one thing. It's you I'm committed to. You who makes my heart race and my hands tingle. No one else."

The smile on Tom's face shone brightly in the sun. As they continued their walk, Chakotay silently repeated the vows he'd made in front of his father.

Medrich put the final remaining ingredient in the blessed bowl. He nodded to Stygian, and gave the bowl an extra turn. The spell must travel off-world. This would take most of his considerable powers.

He chanted from the grimoire. "Yo voyae mae 'n tusae, a ele fae yo mal. Des'rae mae 'n pa'ven'r, ne'er a patree. Ne're."

His student looked at him and cocked his head.

"She will pay," Medrich assured him. "Forever."

"You may not wear the uniform of Starfleet, but you are every bit a member of our crew. You are the Morale Officer. And you have done an excellent job in that capacity. I believe there are a number of people who have always expressed disappointment that your morning program is no longer shown," Tuvok said, still clasping Neelix's hands.

"You think so?" For the first time, Tuvok could see the lines around his eyes fade.

"I do. You might consider bringing it back periodically."

"No one's said anything to me."

"Perhaps they think your time is already fully taken with other things."

Neelix collapsed back into himself. "They didn't ask me..." he muttered.

There was a soft knock on the door and he called for entrance. Lieutenant Ayala and Ensign Kim came in and he had to admit, he was surprised. The scent of human male pheromones assaulted his Vulcan sense of smell, along with the pungent odor of sex. As they approached, he wondered if this planet was having some effect on the men of the away team. If so, he was certainly immune to it. Still. Ayala and Kim. A somewhat fascinating combination.

"Mr. Tuvok," Harry said, "how is he doing?"

"We are discussing the importance of Mr. Neelix's functions on the ship. How losing him would leave a gaping hole in the crew. How people feel about him," he said pointedly.

Harry perched on the edge of the bed next to Neelix and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Neelix."

The Talaxian rolled onto his back, though Tuvok did not lose physical contact, retaining his grasp of Neelix's left hand. He waited.

"I need you," Harry said quietly. "You're my friend. And when I have that certain, well, craving to feel like I'm home, sitting in my mother's kitchen, where do I go? To the mess. And you sit with me. We talk. You try to make me apple pie." He smiled. "And one of these times, you'll get it and it will be perfect. But you know what? It doesn't matter if it's perfect or not. It's the sitting, and talking, when no one else is around."

"Last week I was thinking that perhaps a little more cinnamon might do it..." His eyes locked with Harry's.

Harry grinned. "Yeah, maybe that'll be it. Next time you're gonna try, give me a call, and I'll keep you company while you cook. Okay? My mom always said I made a pretty good cook's helper. When she could drag me in there."

Neelix nodded quickly. "Okay."

"Good. Besides, I have some things, personal things, I need to talk to you about," he said, smiling.

"Then maybe I should gather ingredients and try that pie tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow night. It's a date. And, Neelix - I'm not the only one. Listen to Tuvok. He'll tell you." Harry patted him on the shoulder and stood. Neelix grabbed his hand.

"Thank you, Harry."

"Anytime, Neelix. Any time at all."

Tuvok watched as Harry moved close to Gregory.

"Lieutenant Tuvok, Harry and I will be in our room, taking a short nap, packing, that sort of thing. We'll leave our door open. If you need anything, just call." Ayala then met Neelix's eyes. "You, too, Neelix. Just call."

For the first time, he saw Neelix smile. A small smile, but a smile nonetheless. Progress. Excellent. "Thank you, Mr. Ayala," Tuvok said. "Have a good rest."

He didn't miss the look of surprise on his crewman's face. To him, it was only logical that he put the conversation on a personal level, after all they'd been through. Both Gregory and Harry nodded and left. Time to get to the most important issue of all.

"Mr. Neelix." Neelix rolled back to him and waited. "What do you think Naomi would do if you left?"

Greg pulled Harry closer, though he was already sprawled across him. They'd taken off their tunic tops, ostensibly due to too much body heat, but they both knew they just wanted to feel some skin. He thought back on the past few days and couldn't stop the wide grin that he was certain looked ridiculous. No, Har, not letting you go, no sir. Harry moved up a little and pushed his face against his neck. No, sir.

Harry was almost asleep, finally giving over to the physical need to stop moving. He felt unbelievably content, even as he thought about the commander catching him. The man was right. As usual. He'd see them again. He briefly sent up a call to the deity of his ancestors that Tom and Chakotay would have a long life of happiness together. Greg's hand strayed over his back. Maybe he could sleep like this every night. Maybe he'd never have another nightmare. Just before blackness took him, he felt Greg's hand slip under his waistbands and rest on his cheek. Now, he felt completely protected. He slept.

"You know, I'm still not that comfortable with what the Chosen One didn't tell us," Tom said. They were following the directions the boy had given them and had just come out of a small copse, into another clearing. "His body language was all wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"He looked agitated. He was telling me that it wouldn't matter, to the deliverance ceremony, or whatever this is called, but for some reason, I wasn't believing him. At the time I thought maybe he was worried since you hadn't come back and he had to leave. Still..."

"Still you think there's more to this than we know." Chakotay stepped over a fallen log and waited for Tom to do the same.

"I'd bet my last ration there is." Tom looked ahead and slowed. "Whoa, look at that."

Chakotay followed his line of sight. "Come on, we've got a little extra time..."

They approached what appeared to be the ruins of a building. A foundation of stone and rubble outlined a rectangular area not nearly as large as the school they were staying in, but not small either. Doing a quick survey of what was lying within the outer walls, they came to no clear conclusion about the purpose of the building. The most they could conclude was that it was likely one room. The floor was some sort of hard material, not wood, though without a tricorder that's all they knew. Plants had discovered cracks and worked their way through them to reach the sun. There were rows of rubble, running parallel with the shorter sides. In the center was a smaller rectangle, about three by two meters, made up of smaller stones. Like everything else, whatever it was originally had long since weathered into nothing but mounds of stones and rocks.

"You know, there really isn't enough of this stone to form a wall," Chakotay said, squatting and studying the foundation. "This building must have been part of the school, it's close enough. Those walls are wood. Why aren't there any wooden remnants here?"

"Fire," Tom answered. "It's the only thing that would cause this much destruction."

"True. And we don't know if this floor is discolored or not. Goodness. Must have been some fire..." Chakotay stood and looked over the place as a whole. "We'd better go, Tom..."

Tom came right to him and took his hand. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a feeling, that's all."

They continued on their way to the Temple. According to the directions, they were close, and according to the ship's computer, they were about forty-five minutes from the apex of the midday sun.

"Chak, remember what Neelix saw? A child. Burning to death." Tom's heart rate was beginning to race a bit, and not from the exercise.

"But the child was burning inside the school. A spirit wouldn't haunt the wrong locale."

"You sure?"

They looked at each other. "Well," Chakotay said, "no spirits I've ever known." Then he grinned so widely, they both began to laugh. They spoke no more of burning children or burning buildings, but continued to walk, holding hands, chuckling occasionally. Within five minutes, they saw the Temple.

Chakotay stopped walking. He closed his eyes and took a few cleansing breaths. Tom stood quietly by his side.

"Spirits of the Sky," Chakotay said softly, "I've come to do your bidding. As has been prophesied. May the powers of air, water, fire and earth be with us now. May my ancestors watch over me, watch over us, as we deliver the Chosen One to these people." He opened his eyes.

"Amen," Tom said.

"Absolutely, Tom, Amen." They locked eyes. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

Chakotay nodded. "Let's go."

They took the final meters at a steady and sure pace.

"But Naomi, and Ensign Wildman, they are family to you," Tuvok said.

"My sweet Naomi..." Neelix said to himself. He raised his eyes and met Tuvok's. "I felt like someone was ripping my heart out at the thought of losing her. Just like my sister. And everyone else."

"You haven't lost her. She is waiting for you."

"But..."

"No, Mr. Neelix. Naomi and you have a bond that is just as thick as blood. You have acted in a parental capacity for her, given her what she needed to grow into the fine young girl that she is. That will never go away. No matter how much distance is between you."

Neelix kept his eyes locked on the dark brown ones. He sat slowly and propped himself up against the headboard. "Mr. Tuvok. Are we talking about Naomi, or are we talking about your children?" Though he'd let go of Tuvok's hand in order to sit up, he reached out and took it again. The man allowed it.

Tuvok's precarious emotional control slipped for just a moment. He broke the eye lock and looked out the window. "When we first became stranded here I was certain that T'Pel would carry on as she always had. A finer partner one could not ask for. As time has passed, I find myself thinking of my wife and my children, wondering how they are with the separation. Last night, for the first time, I considered the fact that I may never see them again. Today, I remind myself that we are not separated. We will never be separated. Distance is, irrelevant." He looked back at Neelix. "Logically, this is true for you and Naomi. And everyone else on Voyager."

Neelix thought about that for a minute. He took a very deep breath and smiled. "Indeed, Mr. Vulcan. Indeed."

Medrich, again, was preparing ingredients in the newly cleansed bowl. He was grateful that his student had already brought what he needed for this second spell. And there was enough loq'uivat left over, just in case. The sound of the Temple door opening at first didn't register. He looked up in surprise. There was the Link, with the Guide in tow.

"Teacher, there is something I must tell you," Stygian said, hurriedly, in a low voice.

He looked to his student and saw the almost frantic pleading in his black eyes. "What is it?" he whispered.

"Medrich," the Link said loudly, sternly.

With one last glance at Stygian, Medrich turned to the man who was supposed to have saved them. "What."

"We have things to discuss. Before I deliver the Chosen One to you."

His mind would not function properly. Before? Before? "It is too late."

"Too late for what? I am here. To do the deliverance. On the orders of the Chosen One. Don't you want to speak to him?" The Link looked as confused as he felt.

For some reason, Medrich turned to his student again. Stygian opened his mouth to talk, but no words came out. On the orders of the Chosen One? The Link had made contact? He knew what he was to do? "What did the Chosen One say to you, about when this should take place?" Medrich's heart had begun to pound. Perhaps...

"That deliverance should take place at the ascent of the midday sun, today. Which, if our calculations are correct, is in about 35 of our minutes."

The blood left Medrich's head and his legs gave way. The next thing he was aware of were a human's hands moving over his face and neck as he was being held with his head down. He struggled to sit upright.

"I guess he's okay now, Chak," he heard the Guide say quietly, right next to his ear.

"I am fine," he said with as much dignity as he could. He turned and looked into that strange light blue of the Guide's eyes and realized they showed nothing but concern. "I am fine," he repeated. The Guide left his side and returned to the Link's.

"Good," the Link said. "We have things to discuss. Before the deliverance."

He stood. "Very well." He didn't have a clue what there was to discuss, and his mind was moving quickly over the preparations that needed to be remade. The circle, was it intact? Why had Stygian kept this from him? Deliverance. There would be deliverance!

"...the deuterium, now, before we proceed," the Link was saying.

"What? The deuterium?"

"Yes. You will give me the coordinates for the deuterium supply. Now. I'll contact my ship and we'll beam it up. Now. Or we will not proceed."

But if he did that, the men from the Voyager would leave. He would lose his hold over them. He should have cast a spell on the Link himself. But then... the council... he realized he had no choice. He gave the man the coordinates and listened as he ordered his inferiors to obtain the mineral they were in need of. Yes, indeed, the Link was powerful. Clearly the man in charge of the ship. He glanced at the Guide, his mate. There were obvious, though unrecognizable emotions on his face as he listened to the arrangements being made. Without the cube and paenural to help him, Medrich didn't understand the intricacies of human feelings. He had a suspicion that he was missing something important.

"Thank you," the Link said. "We've got the deuterium. Now. The spells you cast upon members of my crew. I want them completely removed, and I want your assurance there will be no lasting effects from them."

Medrich deliberately did not look at Stygian as he answered. "A spell once it is cast cannot be un-cast. They cannot be removed, but they can be broken. I believe those that were placed on the men with you have been broken. With the exception of the spotted man, your Neelix, the Nurturer and the Holder of Logic."

"That spell has not been broken? How can we make sure it is?"

"I am not entirely certain. Perhaps in the way the others were."

The Link's eyes got a dangerous glint in them. "Well, perhaps you can tell me why they were cast in the first place."

"That I cannot do. It is part of the prophecy. I cannot."

The Guide took hold of the Link and they walked some paces away, talking quietly. He watched the Link contact someone and heard some talk about the Nurturer. It sounded as though he was improved. The two Voyager men returned.

"Apparently," the Link said, "my men have been able to break the hold of the spell. Neelix will be back to himself by the time we return to the ship." The Guide was smiling. Medrich wondered why. Was the little spotted man so important to him? To the Link? As he was to the Holder of Logic?

The Link and the Guide were speaking softly again. Then they merely looked at each other for a moment. The Link turned to Medrich. "Very well. We can proceed," he said. Medrich could see that he was ready. All would come to pass.

Tom tried to stay relaxed, but he was not succeeding. Which surprised him. This was likely the least action he would ever be required to make in the pursuit of a particular outcome. No instant reflexive moves over the conn, making the ship dip and soar at his direction to avoid certain death. No adrenaline pumping. Just quiet sitting and waiting. The room had been darkened by heavy drapes pulled over the stained glass windows. The candles were lit, surrounding them as they sat on the floor. He could feel the tension coming from the two Umbran's, but from the man on his left, the man he'd follow to the ends of any galaxy, there was nothing but calm. He turned and looked at him directly. His eyes were closed, he was breathing deeply, yet he gave Tom's hand a squeeze and a small smile showed on the corners of his mouth. Tom smiled. I love you, Chakotay.

Their combadges beeped. Just once. Tom's heart leapt into his throat. Chakotay opened his eyes. And there he was, the boy, standing in the middle of the circle, wearing something quite different than he had in their other meeting - a white robe, unadorned. Tom glanced at Medrich and Stygian and realized they saw nothing.

"It is time," the boy said. Or did he? Tom heard him, could see his mouth moving.

"Is he here?" Medrich said anxiously.

"Yes. He's here," Chakotay answered. "It is time."

The Chosen One came to them and pulled their hands apart, then settled himself between them, holding each of theirs in his. Again, Tom was surprised. The hand was warm, and soft. "Hello, Chakotay. Hello, Tom."

Tom tried to just think a response. "Hello, Chosen One." The boy looked up at him and smiled. Okay, Tom, that's all you need to do. Just sit. Let Chakotay speak for him. Just relax. He breathed.

"There is a new Chosen One who must be contacted. Not like before. He must be nurtured. He is older, almost an adult and knows many things," Chakotay said. "His name is Loumien and he lives in the city. He has both of his... parents. And one... sister." Chakotay took a breath.

"What is the name of his family?" Medrich said.

"It, it is not to be told by me. Loumien is to be found by the council. And when he is found everything is to be different. He...," Chakotay faltered. His eyes darted between Medrich and Stygian and he again took a breath, then another. "He is not to be taught the dark arts. There can be no further work in the dark arts. No matter what. Do you understand?"

"No, I do not understand," Medrich said sternly.

"You do not speak to me in that manner, Teacher," Chakotay retorted.

Medrich sat up straighter. "I, I apologize, Chosen One. Please. Explain."

"Loumien is pure of heart and has been his entire life. He was put here to deliver you. If he is guided, if he is listened to, then Umbra will survive. People must pay attention. Not rely on the powers harnessed by the grimoire, by you, or there can be no survival. It is in the prophecy."

Medrich was silent, a thousand emotions showing on his thin, pale face. "But. Chosen One. As it is in the prophecy, so did I follow it. And thus, you are here. So to say..."

Chakotay interrupted him harshly. "Yes. Let us speak of the prophecy. 'Only with the light's obscurity will the truth be seen and the Chosen One will once again walk Umbra for us all.' You interpreted that to mean?"

"Of course, to mean that the light of the star should be blocked on the day you were to contact the Link. And thus, you are here..."

"You inadvertently fulfilled the prophecy, but not in the way you think. It actually means that by turning from the light of truth and casting the spell you did, I was able to make contact, in order to deliver my message. The holy ones knew what this planet was destined for, they knew what would happen in the future. Dis-ease, destruction, depression. They knew that someone would cast a spell, interpreting the prophecy incorrectly. They prayed you would do what you did. Because the consequences of your action - away from here, were vast. Now, the people are ready. To understand. To listen."

"What consequences?"

"The entire city saw the world as the Voyager men did yesterday. They saw their own star nothing but gray. And they had an interpretation of their own. They saw it as the end of the world. Some people killed others in fits of rage, believing it didn't matter. Some people killed themselves in fits of depression. Some people killed their families in an effort to spare them the worst." Chakotay stopped talking, shook his head, and took a number of shaky breaths. Tom looked off in the distance, also trying to breathe, as visions from the Chosen One assaulted his mind.

"And now," Chakotay continued, "you must understand. And listen. The grimoire is to be burned. The dark arts are to be forgotten. The people must be reminded of what it was like. Before I existed. Before I ceased. Loumien must be heard. Or all is lost."

Medrich's hands, which had tightened into fists, relaxed. "But..."

"NO! You dare argue with the Chosen One, Medrich? If you do now what was done then, Loumien will cease as well! And more people will cease than did with me! Umbra will self-destruct! Do you understand?!"

Medrich was silent. Stygian's eyes were wide as he stared at his teacher. "Yes," the older man finally said. "I understand. But, how will I convince the council?"

"Before I leave completely, I will give you a key. Take it to them. There is a box that has been kept for these many cycles, they know of it. With what is in the box, and what you tell them I said, they will be convinced. It is foretold."

Medrich nodded and took a deep breath of his own. "Very well." He sounded resigned.

Tom felt tugging on his hand. The boy-child was standing, and as he did, Chakotay collapsed in Tom's direction. His heart stopped and he caught the man he loved, anger beginning to well up inside of him.

"Tom, he will be fine," the boy said. "Lay him down and come with me. It's your turn."

He believed him. Looking down at the face he knew so well, he saw the tension leave it, the lines of his tattoo smooth out, his mouth relax. Resting Chakotay's head on his thigh, he took a moment to stroke his cheek before gently pulling out from under him, and very, very gently laying him down on the floor. The boy reached for his hand and Tom stood, taking it again.

They walked to the altar. There, the boy squatted and pointed to one of the tiles of the mosaic. "Turn this tile to the... right... and it can be removed. You will find the key." Tom did as he was instructed and in the deep crevice he uncovered, smelling of mustiness and years of burial, was a single, long key with three teeth on the end of it. "Thank you, Tom. He will awaken as soon as I'm gone. Tell him... tell him that his ancestors carry him in their hearts, that he has kept their covenant. With grace. And tell him our friends are fine now. Love him well. As he does you."

"I will. I promise." And having spoken the words Chakotay did to his own grandfather, Tom felt the boy kiss his forehead, once, lightly. Then he was gone.

Chakotay was stirring, and without a moment's hesitation, Tom was at his side, sliding to the floor, to help his lover sit. He kept a protective arm around him, letting the larger man lean into him, feeling a surge of love so deep tears pricked the corners of his eyes. He finally looked at the two Umbran's, silently watching him, them. He held out his hand and opened his fist.

"Here. Your key. Please, do as he said. We're going home," he said quietly. Turning back to the dark head resting on his shoulder, he kissed and stroked Chakotay's hair, talking softly to him, bringing him fully awake. Eventually, they stood and without another word, they left the Temple. Their eyes needed a moment to adjust to the bright sunlight. Nothing had ever looked so beautiful as what they saw right then. A world that was green, and lush with life.
 
 

On to Part Thirteen

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