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The Babylon 5 Muse strikes
Well, sort of. Instead of continuing to gripe about the lack of fanfiction on the net featuring certain ambassadors and their aides, I started to extend a cautious toe in the murky water of a fandom I've never written in yet. The following result might be the beginning of a story, or just an experiment. Set after the season 5 episode, The Very Long Night of Londo Mollari.
"You're not serious."
"I assure you I am, Mollari."
Londo squinted. He still felt dizzy and weak, which, given everything that happened to him within the last twenty four hours, was only natural. Maybe the bizarre visions which had followed his heart attack had never stopped, and he was still trapped in the torturous mess his own mind had devised for him.
On the other hand, he was quite sure the food which Dr. Franklin had permitted him to eat, the food he was still trying to digest, was real enough. It had all the disgusting tastelessness only a dedicated healer could come up with. No, this was undoubtedly real. He was lying in Babylon 5's medlab, recovering from a heart failure which could have killed him, and had the doubtful pleasure of seeing G'kar waving one of his thick, dusty volumes at him.
"You," said Londo, slowly, because he still suspected G'kar was setting him up for a joke, "you want me to - meditate."
"Exactly," G'kar said, with a thin smile. "You obviously had an epiphany last night, Mollari. This is a rare thing, and to be frank, something I thought would be quite beyond the likes of you. It cannot be treated like a minor inconvenience. You have to…"
Londo stopped listening. He should have known G'kar wouldn't let this go. While he still wasn't sure what exactly had happened during the night, he did know G'kar had been here, together with Vir, watching him fight death. G'kar had still been there when Londo had come out of his struggle, which was fortunate since there had been words which needed to be said. And they had been said. Why couldn't the blasted Narn be content with that? But that was G'kar for you. Give him an opening, and he pounced.
"You know," Londo said when he noticed G'kar had finally needed to stop in order to breathe, "I think I liked you better before you decided you were a prophet. At least then you were only trying to kill me."
G'kar harrumphed. "If I had ever tried to kill you, Mollari, you would be dead." His red eye, the one natural eye the mad emperor Cartagia had left him with, glinted.
"No doubt," Londo replied drily, with just enough scepticism in his voice to annoy G'kar, though in truth he did believe the same. Actually, he knew it to be true. The vision came back, the vision which had haunted him for years; his death at G'kar's hands, and G'kar's death at his. For a long time, he had feared it and thought it would be the inevitable conclusion of their feud. More recently, death had stopped being quite such a frightening prospect, and G'kar had stopped being his enemy. Londo wasn't quite sure what they were to each other now, but the old hate was gone, and he did not want it to return.
"I have every intention to meditate," he said, forcing himself to be as light-hearted as he could, "but not by contemplating rocks and books written in a truly dreadful prose. I am a Centauri, G'kar, not a Narn. Our ways of approaching our Gods are somewhat more refined."
"You mean you get drunk until you pass out," G'kar stated, put his book down on the table next to the rest of meal Dr. Franklin had declared fit for his patient, and crossed his arms.
"Naturally. And if you go on being high-minded, I shall be forced to remind you I still have recordings of you getting drunk as well, with a number of ladies, and without one tenth of my style."
G'kar's fists clenched and unclenched. "Mollari," he said. "I'm trying to help you. But you really don't make it easy."
Londo shifted his weight and privately decided the décor in medlab wasn't the only element which was wanting; the mattresses could use some refurbishing as well.
"Why bother, then?" he asked congenially.
"Because you had a revelation," the Narn repeated patiently, as if talking to a child. "Because you can't go on with your empty life as if nothing has happened. I'm not letting you get away with this."
"My life isn't empty," Londo muttered. "If anything, it is obviously overcrowded."
For a moment, G'kar looked as if he was ready to strangle Londo. Which, Londo decided, would really make all the effort which Dr. Franklin, Vir, and not least of all himself had gone through in the previous night somewhat superfluous, and one couldn't have that. He closed his eyes and permitted something of the darkness to return, the darkness dogged his every footstep, the darkness which bluster and sparring and things like Vir's hand on his shoulder or the memory of Adira's smile hardly held at bay. Then he looked at G'kar.
"It happened," he said. "And there was a rightness in it. But believe me when I say that I do not want another revelation. This one is quite enough. Can't we leave it at that?"
Evidently not. G'kar sighed, pulled a chair, and sat down.
It occurred to Londo that he would actually try to finish Dr. Franklin's bland meals and take whatever disgusting medication the doctor prescribed. Regaining his health had never seemed so important as now, when he was trapped with a Narn determined to save his soul.
"You're not serious."
"I assure you I am, Mollari."
Londo squinted. He still felt dizzy and weak, which, given everything that happened to him within the last twenty four hours, was only natural. Maybe the bizarre visions which had followed his heart attack had never stopped, and he was still trapped in the torturous mess his own mind had devised for him.
On the other hand, he was quite sure the food which Dr. Franklin had permitted him to eat, the food he was still trying to digest, was real enough. It had all the disgusting tastelessness only a dedicated healer could come up with. No, this was undoubtedly real. He was lying in Babylon 5's medlab, recovering from a heart failure which could have killed him, and had the doubtful pleasure of seeing G'kar waving one of his thick, dusty volumes at him.
"You," said Londo, slowly, because he still suspected G'kar was setting him up for a joke, "you want me to - meditate."
"Exactly," G'kar said, with a thin smile. "You obviously had an epiphany last night, Mollari. This is a rare thing, and to be frank, something I thought would be quite beyond the likes of you. It cannot be treated like a minor inconvenience. You have to…"
Londo stopped listening. He should have known G'kar wouldn't let this go. While he still wasn't sure what exactly had happened during the night, he did know G'kar had been here, together with Vir, watching him fight death. G'kar had still been there when Londo had come out of his struggle, which was fortunate since there had been words which needed to be said. And they had been said. Why couldn't the blasted Narn be content with that? But that was G'kar for you. Give him an opening, and he pounced.
"You know," Londo said when he noticed G'kar had finally needed to stop in order to breathe, "I think I liked you better before you decided you were a prophet. At least then you were only trying to kill me."
G'kar harrumphed. "If I had ever tried to kill you, Mollari, you would be dead." His red eye, the one natural eye the mad emperor Cartagia had left him with, glinted.
"No doubt," Londo replied drily, with just enough scepticism in his voice to annoy G'kar, though in truth he did believe the same. Actually, he knew it to be true. The vision came back, the vision which had haunted him for years; his death at G'kar's hands, and G'kar's death at his. For a long time, he had feared it and thought it would be the inevitable conclusion of their feud. More recently, death had stopped being quite such a frightening prospect, and G'kar had stopped being his enemy. Londo wasn't quite sure what they were to each other now, but the old hate was gone, and he did not want it to return.
"I have every intention to meditate," he said, forcing himself to be as light-hearted as he could, "but not by contemplating rocks and books written in a truly dreadful prose. I am a Centauri, G'kar, not a Narn. Our ways of approaching our Gods are somewhat more refined."
"You mean you get drunk until you pass out," G'kar stated, put his book down on the table next to the rest of meal Dr. Franklin had declared fit for his patient, and crossed his arms.
"Naturally. And if you go on being high-minded, I shall be forced to remind you I still have recordings of you getting drunk as well, with a number of ladies, and without one tenth of my style."
G'kar's fists clenched and unclenched. "Mollari," he said. "I'm trying to help you. But you really don't make it easy."
Londo shifted his weight and privately decided the décor in medlab wasn't the only element which was wanting; the mattresses could use some refurbishing as well.
"Why bother, then?" he asked congenially.
"Because you had a revelation," the Narn repeated patiently, as if talking to a child. "Because you can't go on with your empty life as if nothing has happened. I'm not letting you get away with this."
"My life isn't empty," Londo muttered. "If anything, it is obviously overcrowded."
For a moment, G'kar looked as if he was ready to strangle Londo. Which, Londo decided, would really make all the effort which Dr. Franklin, Vir, and not least of all himself had gone through in the previous night somewhat superfluous, and one couldn't have that. He closed his eyes and permitted something of the darkness to return, the darkness dogged his every footstep, the darkness which bluster and sparring and things like Vir's hand on his shoulder or the memory of Adira's smile hardly held at bay. Then he looked at G'kar.
"It happened," he said. "And there was a rightness in it. But believe me when I say that I do not want another revelation. This one is quite enough. Can't we leave it at that?"
Evidently not. G'kar sighed, pulled a chair, and sat down.
It occurred to Londo that he would actually try to finish Dr. Franklin's bland meals and take whatever disgusting medication the doctor prescribed. Regaining his health had never seemed so important as now, when he was trapped with a Narn determined to save his soul.
Thank you!