Episode 169: Youth (Giana)

If the threat of dying didn’t hover quite so sternly over Giana’s head, today might have ranked as one of the best in her life.

The morning with Meldrick had been delectable, something she hoped they would have occasion to repeat soon and frequently.

Next had come the wedding of Mel’s son. It came as both a joyous reminder of her own new marriage to Mel, and of her ability to overcome her biases where Viggo was concerned, and be happy for the boys.
On its own, it was by far the happiest wedding Gi had ever attended. Acheron and Spence, both such naturally reticent people, were deep and open about their love for each other. During the whole of the wedding, she marveled at their expressions, the subtle touches and glances that passed between them.

Prior to this week, Giana’s wedding experience included Danish high society, her own ceremony to Viggo years ago, and the wedding between Niels and Talise. The last had proven to be anticlimactic, after months spent watching them dance around the idea of each other.

Their public wedding, for the kingdom, was a formality more than anything, and though it was beautifully executed and full of love in its own way…

There was something almost tangible about the way Spence regarded Acheron, the love and longing which filled the space between them.

It was a deeply satisfying event, one that made her reach for Mel’s hand with the realization that everyone must have known, long before she or Mel did, where their own relationship headed.

That, on its own, was mortifying. She wondered how often she’d looked at him with such fervor as she often felt, observable by all. How often people had seen her as an inevitability for Mel, or whether they saw her as someone trying to steal him from Aadya.

It hadn’t been her intent, once or ever, to claim him for herself.

The struggle to find her own happiness, without hurting anyone, proved itself impossible.
They were happy now. Her and Mel, Aadya and Greg. Whatever selfishness, on any of their parts, had led to this moment – was it selfishness at all, if it brought all of them such happiness and hurt no others?

It could not be.

At the moment, they waited in a conference room. Someone had called them there; called Mel, specifically. Gi was merely a spectator.

When she’d asked why, Mel’s worried countenance had become amused and he’d said she would see soon.

Now he seemed somewhere between amused and bemused as he sorted whatever had brought them to this room. It drove Gi mad with curiosity, but she could be patient. She could.

She was quite firm with herself on that count. Mel seemed to enjoy her frustration at not knowing, and she was determined to not give him the pleasure of hearing her ask again.

Aadya and Greg made their way into the room. Here, Aadya would share whatever had brought them here.

Aadya smiled warmly at Gi – much more warmly than she thought she deserved – and said, “Welcome to your first official decision-making meeting.”

Gi returned the smile. She’d missed Aadya over the last ten or so days, more than she cared to let herself feel. Their friendship was a constant since their first meeting; Gi hoped it would remain.

“What is the decision?” she asked.

Mel’s eyes lit with amusement, as Aadya shrugged and declined to answer.

Gi bit her lip in annoyed entertainment. She wondered which of them had taught the other the closed, amused, way of approaching things. Smug, that was the word.

Another person came into the room. Weston Akhan. She’d seen him a few times, but he was so foreign to her. So old, measuring his age in the several thousands. So distant, always with some side project or important business, never staying.

He looked at them all now with something else. Not his usual confidence, but an uneasiness that reminded her of the day Niels had announced his intent to move to the United States.

His body language – the tight shoulders and clipped tone of voice – were both resolved and uncertain as he greeted, “I see you made it.”

“What do you need?” Mel asked. He leaned back in his chair, almost tipping it up on two legs, and wrapped his arm around Gi’s back, holding her.

“Stuff,” Weston said, hands in his pockets.

Oh, he was anxious. So, so anxious. Gi couldn’t decide whether someone ought to comfort him or force him to share.

Greg’s laughter, Mel and Aadya’s quiet mirth, answered for her: They would hold their ground.

Weston cleared his throat and looked out the window before he stated, “Bentley tuned me into an opportunity. Possibility. Similar to or exactly the same as he experienced with Shea.”

Bentley met Shea when he was a few hundred years old and she was a couple dozen months old. He’d asked to be deaged so that her connection to him could form – or not form – naturally. Now they were as happy as any of the younger couples.

“Yes?” Aadya asked.

Giana realized what it was that Weston asked – for permission to date one of their daughters who was likely far from adulthood. Gi wondered which one it might be.

Not to date. To grow up with. Re-grow up with.

“Ariadne,” he confirmed. He said her name like a gem collector might talk about a rare stone. “He and I have both experienced a feeling about a possible future with her, for me.”

“Ariadne?” Mel asked. Gi couldn’t tell, from his polite tone, how he felt. He may as well have been discussing the weather, as his own daughter.

“I know,” Weston agreed.

The two men locked eyes for a moment, passing some unspoken debate between them. Men were such odd creatures. Why not come right out and say what each of them thought, rather than this stoic discussion.

Aadya, at least, had the presence of mind to intervene: “I agree, to that feeling.”

Gi searched her own feelings, which mainly centered around excitement at the prospect of seeing this process in action, firsthand, and concern for Ari who was only twelve.

By the time she’d arrived with Niels, Bentley and Shea had been a long-established fact. Gi had never known the man he’d been before he met Shea.

Weston presented a new opportunity, a specimen who was about to metamorphose for the sake of love.

Fascination scarcely covered what Gi felt, but it was a start.

As for Ari…that ultimately was up to her parents. They knew Weston far better than Gi did, and the same was true of Ari.

Greg had other misgivings, as he asked in that very blunt way that seemed natural to all Americans, “That wouldn’t be weird for you?”

Of course it would be weird. It would be a challenge for all of them to overcome the tide of emotions, but it was also, potentially, something good for Ari and a new beginning for Weston.
“Not if he was deaged,” Mel and Aadya told Greg at the same time.

“It will still be weird for a while,” Weston conceded, “but that brings me to the second point: She’s desperate to travel. I want permission to take her traveling.”

Gi could have resisted, she supposed, but it was too opportune. She shared a grin with Mel before she offered, “We recently acquired a large collection of travel guides, if you’d like to borrow any.”

Mel drew her into a side hug and kissed the top of her head.

“I may at some point,” Weston replied. He released a breath and looked at all of them. “Does that mean you’re agreeing?”

Giana hadn’t meant to push things in that direction. It was Mel and Aadya’s decision, ultimately. She ought to have kept her mouth shut, but she loved the idea. The romance of it, the thrill of seeing Ari either fall in love with him over time, or not, proved to be a powerful pressure.

For now she kept her eyes downcast, to avoid furthering the argument in favor of deaging him.

Mel leaned forward in his seat, toward Weston. “It would be a shame if you were older than Konrad, anyway. May I?”

Konrad? Gi knew Konrad and Weston were old friends, but from the way Mel said it, they were family. They weren’t, were they?

Gi was dying to know the full story behind their friendship, now.

She watched Weston walk around the conference table towared Mel, resolute. “Yes,” he said to Mel, when he reached arm’s distance from him. He took a deep breath in and added, “Yeah.”

Giana leaned forward, eager not to miss a moment of this transition.

Mel put his hand on Weston’s head, and the years shedded themselves from Weston’s appearance, as subtle age lines disappeared, then he gained body mass in the form of muscle, and then very rapidly toward the end he grew first thinner, then shorter, until a sandy-haired middle-school-aged boy stood before them, in a too-big shirt and holding his pants up with his hands.

Greg laughed, as delighted as Giana felt.

There was something beautiful and romantic about personal sacrifice in the hopes of love.

“Is this why we brought little clothes?” Greg asked Aadya.

“It is,” she confirmed with a smile. She directed her attention to Weston as she slid a set of boy’s clothing across the table toward him. “We do trust you, Weston. We trusted Bentley, too. Don’t let your own insecurities get in the way. You’re twelve, and she’ll be an adult in a few years.”

He bowed his head a little, too old in mannerisms for his own body. “Thank you,” he said, serious. “I’ll try not to come running back to undo it.”

“Good luck,” Mel teased him.

Weston laughed and took a lurching walk towards the attached bathroom, his pants held up in one hand and his clothes in the other. He closed himself in the bathroom.

Mel reached for Gi’s hand and they stood together. Her warmth at being included, her anticipation about being privileged enough to see this romance unfold…she squeezed Mel’s hand, exuberant in every possible way.

Hers was a delightful life, filled with pleasant surprises at every turn.

Aadya stood, too, but Greg leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head, and gazed up at the ceiling. “Before everyone goes…” he said.

Mel returned to his chair, so Gi joined him.

“Yes?” Mel asked.

“Just thinking about Weston, using his luck magic to find the best way to approach an unexpected situation,” he stated. He planted the feet of his chair on the ground and looked at everyone. “You’re anticipating an attack, and this isn’t someone you would want to get ahold of newborn heirs, right? Babies?”

“No, we don’t,” Aadya said, her voice cold with worry.

“So…” Greg asked. “How early are dragon babies safe?”

Aadya’s and Mel’s eyes snapped together across the table, sharing in some memory.

Mel leaned forward, his voice careful. “Aadya has delivered at thirty weeks without incident,” he said.

More. There was more behind that.

So many things, Gi had yet to learn. All these years, she’d felt as though she belonged and was part of the family, but now, treated as part of the family for the first time, the good and the bad, the emotions behind their public face, she could feel the difference.

This was more interesting, more real, more true.

She wondered what loss Aadya had experienced, which led Mel to choose his words so carefully.

“How far are you now?” Greg asked.

“Thirty-five weeks here, thirty in your time,” Aadya told him.

That was a consideration. As relieved as Gi was not to be pregnant for the upcoming attack, she knew she likely would be at some point. They’d discussed it, she and Mel. It was only a matter of time. Zero would measure the pregnancy differently here.

When the death was over, she would write herself a guide. She would compare the weeks and make sure she had her footing and a solid comprehension of what to expect each week, before she embarked on this new journey.

And twins, Mel would have twins, which meant she would have to learn about twin pregnancies, which went faster.

She shelved the sudden anxiety. Aadya was discussing delivering her babies now, early, in the face of some unpleasant memory she’d never shared.

“What about Talise?” Greg asked.

“Thirty weeks,” she said. “Twenty-six, your time.”

Gi stifled her gasp. Twenty-six weeks was so young, so soon. Talise would be terrified if they asked her to do this. Niels, too.

“The same as Aadya was, with Daphne and Ilex,” Mel said.

Ah. There was an Aadya child without a twin. Gi had never asked, because she’d been taught that prying was rude.

Now she felt like a lousy friend. She would rather have pried to begin with, so she could help Aadya with this decision if Aadya wanted or needed help.

“Why not deliver the babies now and get rid of the worry?” Greg suggested, as though none of them knew what point he worked towards until he stated it explicitly. Americans. There was no understanding them.

They were much more a different species than fairies, to Gi.

“That might be a good idea,” Aadya agreed.

Mel shifted, and then stood, his arm around Gi again. “It’s your decision,” he told Aadya. “I think Talise should make her own choice.”

Gi didn’t need luck to be sure what Talise would choose. A choice between delivering into friendly hands in a secure medical setting, or delivering to a stranger in whatever setting he chose…Talise was a protective mother. It would be no choice at all.

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