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[2005: FEB-MAR] Duty or Love


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(( Brekkian Valley ))

The stream flowed, twinkling crystal clear in the afternoon sun. The grass rippled gently in the cool breeze, which feathered out Delia’s brown hair. Kaia reached out and tucked the hair behind her ear, as the two lovers lay intertwined on the green carpet of grass.

“What are you thinking of?” Kaia whispered.

“Everything… all this is so…magical. I never expected this… I never expected to find you.” Delia answered, looking into Kaia’s wonderful green eyes.

Smiling, Kaia leaned over and planted a soft kiss on Delia’s warm lips, sending a shiver of desire through her. Delia pulled Kaia towards her, and kissed her passionately, savouring the honeysuckle taste of them, her desire building with each second. The Fa’tuah bond was tangible now, overwhelming them both with mutual images of love.

“DELIA!” A strong male baritone rang across the valley, echoing back from the nearby mountain cliffs.

Breaking the kiss, Delia turned around, to gaze at the face of her father.

Oh no.

Trillian was breathing heavily, his face contorted in the most fearsome expression of anger Delia had even seen. “Back. To. Our. House. Now.” He said through gritted teeth, emphasising each word.

Untangling herself from Kaia, Delia got up unsteadily, and brushed the grass off her skirt. She didn’t dare to look at her father. Trillian threw Kaia a dirty look, grabbed Delia by the hand and dragged her to their house.

(( Bedroom ))

The doors closed behind them, and Trillian made sure to lock it, before turning around to face his daughter.

“How DARE you?”

“Father… please… let me explain.”

“There is nothing to explain. You… and that GIRL?”

“Father! Alright… I should have told you a long time ago… I am gay. I’ve always been gay.”

Trillian’s mouth hung open for a moment. Homosexual? His daughter? In this day and age, homophobia was the thing of the past, but that didn’t eliminate the shock of knowing that one’s offspring was of the alternate persuasion. He had had a hunch about it as she was growing up, but he was hoping it was a phase. He closed his mouth, and cleared his throat, weighing the implications of her announcement.

“Being gay is not a choice when you are my daughter, Delia.”

Delia hung her head, knowing what he meant. The Trillians came from a long line of Ambassadors. But what was little known, was that the Trillians were once royalty, left-over from the age of monarchy of the Brekkian world. Royalty was an out-dated concept, but the bloodline was not. After the revolution that overthrew the monarchs, replacing it with democracy, the royal line was allowed to serve in top level positions of the government, even as Ambassadors, like the Trillians. The Trillians took their job, and their heritage, very seriously, even though they had dropped the old noble titles. They were an integral part of the running of the tiny world on edge of the Brekka/Dalos system.

Delia looked up at him, pleadingly. “Father, please… I love Kaia. I’ve never loved anyone more than her. We’ve already gone through the…. Fa’tuah.”

Trillian’s head snapped up. The Fa’tuah? It was the most intense connection a Brekkian could have with another. Brekkians had the unique ability to produce a bio-electric charge from their bodies. It left them exhausted, drained, but it was useful as a weapon. However, what non-Brekkians didn’t know was that the charge could be channelled in a way as to produce a telepathic connection between two people. Once formed, the intimate emotional bond could never be broken by anything, save death.

“You didn’t…” Trillian whispered.

Delia hung her head again, tears rolling down her face. “I love her, father. I really do. I cannot imagine being with anyone else, much less a man.”

Trillian softened, and the anger left his voice. “Delia, you are a Trillian. I am not getting younger, and you are my only daughter. You have a duty to Brekka, to serve her people, to continue this line. Kaia cannot help you continue the line…”

“But…”

“Would you betray the world that raised you? Would you give up Brekka for a woman? Would you incur the other-worldly wrath of the Trillians before you, when our line dies out?”

At the lack of a response from his sobbing daughter, Trillian produced the Trillian family crest – two swords crossed over a flame, and with the words engraved at the bottom, in ancient Brekkian: Gha Deat, Gha Fret. To lead, To serve. He thrust it before her.

“This is the crest you are bound to, Delia. Choose your loyalties now: Kaia, or Brekka.”

Delia looked up at him in horror. Trillian gazed right back at her, the blues of his eyes drilling into her, forcing her to choose.

From birth, Brekka was all she knew. It was her home. From birth, she was imbibed with a sense of loyalty and patriotism to Brekka, like every Trillian. And the Trillians lived to serve Brekka, at any cost.

Kaia’s beautiful face swum before her, her sweet voice echoing in her head, I love you so much, Delia…

She made her decision. Delia raised her head, and squared her shoulders.

“Brekka.”

She shed not a tear, but in the depths of her soul, someone sobbed, wept and raved. She felt a part of her die, shrivel up and dessicate.

I am sorry, Kaia.

She kneeled down before her father. She stretched out a hand and placed it on the crest, intoning the Trillian pledge. “I, Delia Trillian, live but to serve the people of Brekka. Duty is what I know, and nothing else.”

Not even love.

She looked up at her father, her throat tightening. He smiled in satisfaction, and helped his daughter up, and placed the crest in her hands. He knew what his daughter had just sacrificed, and felt guilty for causing it. But there was no choice.

“You make me proud, Delia,” his voice caught in his throat.

Delia nodded mutely, not daring to say anything. She didn’t cry. She didn’t smile. The crest rested in her hands, and for the first time, she felt the full weight of it. The engraved words stared back at her, Gha Deat, Gha Fret....

(( Ten years later ))

Delia hummed a lullaby, gently rocking the bundle in her arms. Inside the pink clothes rested an even pinker face, fresh and innocent. The baby yawned, and closed his drowsy blue eyes.

She put her down on the ancient ornate cot, which was passed down from generation to generation. Delia herself had lain in this once, crying lustily for her own mother, dead after childbirth. She covered the sleeping babe with a blanket. Bending down, she placed a kiss on her forehead.

“Goodnight, Kaia.”

Delia stood for a moment, looking at her first daughter, product of a marriage of convenience between her and a distant cousin, in order to preserve the royal line. They got divorced, as soon as Delia learned she was pregnant. Her infant daughter, sentimentally named Kaia, was everything to her now.

Sighing, Delia went to her desk, and opened a drawer that only she knew about. Inside, was a picture of the original Kaia, in all her beauty. Blond curls framed the face, and her green eyes sparkled with a vivacity that Delia would always remember. She fingered the picture, tracing the outline of the face, remembering how Kaia’s skin had felt: soft and supple.

I still love you, Kaia… wherever you are…

She closed back the drawer, and once again, became Delia Trillian, Brekkian Ambassador, humble servant of the Brekkian people.

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