Chapter 2
Unknown to all civilizations, grains of stardust weave throughout the universe, guiding all those souls who have a destiny. They dance like a butterfly that gently lands on a flower, leaving behind a light, unseen dusting of pollen. Fortunately, we all have a destiny – whether big or small, for good or evil. Therefore, we are all covered with stardust, perhaps some more than others.
If we had the foresight or ability to see the grains, they would manifest as dust floating in the sunlight on a warm summer day. If we could gaze upon star-crossed lovers with a destiny, such as John and Delenn, we would see grains of stardust lightly encompassing their entire being.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
As evening slowly passes into morning, the couple continues to explore each other's deepest thoughts, feelings, and fears, while completing the Ack'Nowl ritual. The Minbari traditional ceremony has an ending clouded in mystery for John but clearly understood and acknowledged by the depths of Delenn's soul.
During the previous hour's conversation, a somber mood settled around the room, blending with the shadows dancing on the wall. Shadows created by the flickering light of the slowly burning candles complete the almost palpable mood – one soul waiting to be unburdened, one soul willing to receive.
John settled back into the couch, contemplating the book he held in his hands. He hoped this volume could help him reveal his introspection and reflection of the past several weeks . . . the past several years. Glancing up at Delenn, he was heartened by her encouraging smile and the touch of her soft fingers caressing his hand.
"Please read to me, John," she repeated. "I would very much like to understand the epiphany you received when you read the poem again after all those years."
He glanced at the clock again, confirming the late hour. Time seemed to fly by at an increasing rate of speed, an illusion fueled by Delenn's impending flight to Minbar, which was now only a few hours away. "Are you really sure you still want to do this?" he asked, needing to confirm her commitment to spending the evening with him and discussing the sensitive material.
"Yes, I am very certain." She sighed as she took the book from his hands, opening the worn pages to the correct poem. "John, help me to understand these illusive phrases and the meanings behind the mystery."
"Okay. But you asked for it," he warned, trying to hide a nervous chuckle.
Taking the book from her hands, he let his fingers linger on hers for a long moment. Resigning to his fate, he relaxed and prepared to disclose his newfound enlightenment to the woman who held his heart. He knew this wouldn't be easy. Still, the subject matter needed to be brought out into the open, discussed, and put to rest. Revealing his feelings wasn't his strong suit, however. It was easier to bury them and pretend they didn't exist. That no longer appeared to be an option, though; Delenn could seemingly look into the depths of his soul and would continue to gently press the matter until he relented. Besides, if opening his heart would make her happy and strengthen their bond, he was willing.
Scanning the words he knew by heart, he contemplated the easiest way to provide English lessons interspersed with reflection and introspection. "Well, let's see. I guess the best thing would be for me to read you the poem in sections. I can explain the words and phrases you don't understand. Then I'll discuss the underlying meanings." He took a deep breath to calm his nerves. "Please remember, this will be hard for me. So much has happened in the last several weeks that we haven't had the time or the opportunity to discuss. I know I've been avoiding certain topics, but I guess this is as good a time as any to get them out in the open."
Delenn touched his cheek, drawing his attention away from the book. "I understand, John. Just as you reveal yourself, I will reveal myself. We are in this relationship – this universe – together. I will never judge you . . . only respect you for sharing yourself with me. I do understand how difficult this is for you, but it will make us stronger. Remember, I love you. Nothing you could ever do or say will change the way I feel." As if to convey with action, what she could not adequately express with words alone, she placed a gentle kiss on his lips. As he started to respond, she pulled away.
"I love you, too," he responded in a husky whisper. Clearing his throat and redirecting his thoughts, he focused on the pages of the antique book, stained and yellow with age. He felt as vulnerable, as fragile, as the paper that threatened to crumble into dust if handled roughly.
"Like I said, I never could understand this poem. I couldn't get what the author meant. It drove me crazy for a lot longer than I'd like to admit." Smiling, he gazed into her beautiful eyes. Wide with curiosity, they were the color of spring, of hope, of desire. Disregarding the hot flush that crept up his cheeks, he continued, "That is until I met you. I still don't completely understand everything the writer says, but it really hit me hard when I read it again the other day. It reminded me so much of myself and the way I've been feeling lately." Placing his left arm around her shoulders, he pulled her near as he settled back into the sofa.
Delenn snuggled closer toward John's side, resting her head on his shoulder. She placed her hand on his thigh, while her eyes focused on the printed words. She sighed as she began to massage his leg. "Please continue," she whispered, when he failed to resume his narrative for several moments.
He glanced down at her hand and wondered if she knew what she was doing to him. Her soft body snuggled against him, her delicate hand on his leg, and her breath gently caressing his neck were a lethal combination. The closer they felt emotionally, the more intimate they became. Desire had long manifested itself in simple ways – a glance, a touch, a whisper. But in the last several weeks, especially since the Shan'fall ritual, these simple gestures had left him hungry for more.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts, knowing he wasn't yet allowed to go where his longing led him. A ritual revolving around discovering one another's centers of pleasure – with respectful meditation, and an entourage of religious caste Minbari – had only left him frustrated and looking forward to the future.
Making himself concentrate on the present, he cleared his throat. "Hmm . . . where was I? Oh . . . right, the poem. Well, let's begin. The poem is called 'Drops of Jupiter'. It's about lost love, a search for the deeper meaning of life, and the pain of loss."
Delenn tilted her head and her mouth hardened into a frown. "I see . . ."
"No, you don't," he quickly corrected. Presumably, she thought he was referring to his lost first love, his search of Z'ha'dum, and the pain of losing his wife. "That's what it probably meant to the author, not to me," he explained. "Be patient. I'll get to the point sooner or later." He smiled, squeezing her hand to reassure her.
"It is all right, John. I will try to be patient."
A slow smile spread across his face at her attempt to pacify him. "I know you will. That's one of the things I love about you . . . your patience." He chuckled as she gave him a mock pout. "Okay, okay, on with it."
His throat was dry from nervousness, so he leaned forward to grab the glass of water he had left on the table. As he drank, he realized his lack of manners. "Would you like a glass of water?" he asked. She shook her head and smiled. He was stalling, and they both knew it.
Placing the glass back on the table, he readjusted the book in his lap. "I know you're having problems with some of the words in the poem. The funny thing is, so did I. This poem was written a very, long time ago - in the year 2000. I had to look up a few of the words myself. I hope I can remember what they all mean. The poem begins . . ."
Now that she's back in the atmosphere,
With drops of Jupiter in her hair,
She acts like summer and walks like rain,
Reminds me that there's a time to change.
Since the return of her stay on the moon,
She listens like spring and she talks like June.
He thought for a moment. "For some reason, the writer's lover decided to leave him and go on a journey of exploration. She went away to find herself, to reach new horizons, and to learn more about the universe and her place in it. The poem begins with her return. He notices her transition, and it reminds him that there's always time to change. Change is the only constant. There's always transformation, whether we want it or not."
Taking a deep breath, he continued. He knew she was going to question him soon. "While you were gone on your last two trips, I missed you . . ."
"And I missed you," she interrupted.
"I know you did. But the last time you left for Minbar, you seemed very distressed. And when you returned, you were . . . different."
At the mention of her most recent trip to her home planet, she stiffened. He knew this was a conversation she wasn't ready to have. He held her close while he caressed her arm, in an attempt to soothe her. "Please hear me out. I know that what happened when you went home was private and not to be discussed outside of the religious caste, but there were rumors. I wasn't sure if you'd return, or even if they'd let you go. I know I'll probably never understand what happened and why, but I missed you and was so glad when you came back. Anyway, when you arrived on the station . . . that's how I felt. Like you had changed."
"I know, John . . . and I am sorry," she confessed, her voice filled with sorrow, as she lowered her gaze. "I never meant to hurt you. You are right . . . I am not allowed to talk about the events that transpired or the outcome. All I can say is that I am here with you now, and I never intend to leave you. I will be with you always . . . if not here in this universe, then where no shadows fall." During her confession, silent tears rolled down her cheeks. "One day I hope we can discuss this further, but for now it must remain as it is."
John leaned forward, kissing away her tears. The glistening moisture was sweet to his lips, not salty as he expected. "I didn't mean to upset you, Delenn. I only wanted to tell you that I knew a little about why you left and that I was glad you came back to me." He brought her into a hug. "Please don't cry. You know I hate it when you cry." Trying to lighten the mood, he teased. "And if you keep this up all night, we'll never get through with this."
Apparently he succeeded in changing her state of mind. She smiled and returned his embrace. "I will try to keep my composure. I would hate to be the cause of your procrastination. You do not need any further assistance from me in your delays. You show great talent and skill."
"Ha, ha, very funny." He reached again for the book. "When you got back to our atmosphere, with drops of Jupiter in your hair, I knew you had changed. You seemed more content with our relationship. And like the author's lost love, I think you now act like summer, walk like rain, listen like spring, and talk like June."
A cloud of confusion settled over Delenn's features. "I do not understand."
"You need to remember that when this was written, the only civilization Earth knew was our own. Also, we only knew of the planets in our own solar system – thus, the reference to Jupiter and Earth's moon. I think that drops of Jupiter means that you glow. Your beauty is exquisite, and when you look at me, your eyes dance." Although she remained silent, he recognized the undisguised smile in her eyes as she began to blush.
"I had a hard time trying to relate a person to seasons, weather, and months of the year. That is, until I met you. At times you act like summer. Summer is the hottest season of the year. It exudes the feeling of confidence. When I think of summer, I think of being outside, kids playing, and having fun. And it reminds me of you . . . your joy in life and wandering spirit." He thought for a moment. "You also walk like rain. You are so graceful when you move that it's like rain gliding along the surface of the ground."
John paused, as he grew increasingly embarrassed. He knew he was being mushy but hoped she didn't mind. Then she looked at him in a way that gave him the strength to continue. "I've noticed that, when you're listening to someone, you listen like spring. Spring is the time of the year when our coldest season slowly becomes warmer. It's a time of rebirth, with the new growth of plants. In winter, everything is white and gray, but when spring finally arrives, the world becomes green and colorful. When you listen to others, you really pay attention and then offer your unique perspective. You see things differently than anyone else that I have ever met. You open us up to hope and new possibilities, like a crocus breaking through the snow. Then we come to June, which is the sixth month of the year. Half the year is gone . . . it's like the difference between a pessimist and an optimist. Do you look toward the future or back to the past? I see you as an optimist, always looking toward the future."
Delenn was silent, as if she didn't know what to say. Finally she spoke, her voice cracking with emotion. "Oh, John, you are such a sweet and loving man. I don't know what to say."
"Well, that's a first," he teased.
Lightly swatting his leg, she reprimanded, "John . . ."
"I know. I'm only kidding." He laughed. "Let's get through the rest of this. Then we can talk more about how wonderful I think you are." He smiled as a hint of embarrassment crossed her face. "It continues with . . ."
Tell me, did you sail across the sun?
Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded?
That Heaven is overrated?
Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star?
One without a permanent scar?
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?
"The writer wanted to know if the girl found her new adventures exciting, or did they pale in comparison to her expectations? Heaven is our euphemism for your place where no shadows fall. It also means anything that's perfect. He wanted to know if she ever reached her Heaven, and was it overrated when she got there. And he wondered if she had fallen in love with someone else – someone who didn't have a scar, whether internal or external. To me, it means, did you find what you were looking for when you returned to Minbar? Did they ask you to stay? Did you come back because you wanted to or out of obligation?"
He paused for a few moments, to let her absorb the implications of his possibly unwarranted fears. To clarify his statement, he continued, "Delenn, listen to me. I know you're here because you want to be, and not because you have to be. I can feel it every time you look at me, touch me. I don't know why, it's just sometimes . . . I feel insecure."
As Delenn started to speak, he lightly placed his finger on her lips. "Wait," he whispered. "Let me finish. You've never given me a reason to feel insecure, but when I returned from Z'ha'dum, I brought a tremendous burden with me – death. It's a permanent emotional scar across my soul – one I wish you didn't have to bear. Part of me believes that you'd be better off without me, that you should be with someone who isn't scarred for life. But the other half of me wouldn't be able to live without you. So, I feel selfish keeping you close . . ."
"No, John!" Delenn held up her hand, as if she had to interrupt. "You need not feel selfish. You have no control over this fate. It was your destiny . . . your path in the universe. Even though we will only be able to spend twenty years together, do not consider this a burden you must bear alone. This is something that we will confront together. I will always be with you, scar or no scar. It does not matter to me." Her voice steely with determination, she strengthened her pledge. "John, this is the first chance we have had to discuss Z'ha'dum. I know that there may be things you cannot discuss. But I am here for you, in whatever capacity that you need. Whether it is as your best friend, your fiancée, your wife, your lover, or your soul mate." She reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers. "Promise me, John. Promise that we will cross this bridge together and that you will trust me."
He savored the release he felt when he talked to Delenn. She always knew what he needed to hear. She was utterly honest and sincere. She didn't blame him, and she wanted to be with him. He knew he should have discussed his eminent death with her upon his return, but he didn't know how. Even thought his life was foreordained to be short, he intended to spend as much of it as he could with her. She completed him, the other half of his soul. "I promise, Delenn. I'll always trust you . . . with my life."
"All right." She nodded, and he wondered if she was remembering another time when he had spoken those same words, and meant them. "Now continue with your story."
He squeezed her hand before placing it gently back on his leg, then reached for the book and turned the page. "The next part is more of the same. The poet describes several ways in which the woman's soul grew . . ."
Now that she's back from that soul vacation,
Tracing her way through the constellation,
She checks out Mozart while she does Tae-Bo,
Reminds me that there's room to grow.
"What is Mozart and Tae-Bo?" Delenn questioned.
"Mozart is a historical musician. A pianist and composer. At the time, people who listened to him were considered more sophisticated. Appreciating his work was a cultural definition of the upper class of society. Tae-Bo was an exercise training program that purified the body. It was eventually adapted and is now used in military exercises. Anyway, the girl continued to grow even after she returned from her soul vacation. This reminded the author that you could continue to grow every day. You just have to grow together, not apart. Just like we continue to grow closer."
He cleared his throat, knowing the next passage would help him reveal some of the events surrounding his death and rebirth into a newfound life. "When I was at Z'ha'dum, many things happened. I knew that Anna wasn't herself and that it was a trap. Once there, I knew there was no possibility of escape. So, I decided to destroy as many of the shadows as I could. I had a nuclear bomb on the Whitestar and programmed it to crash into the compound. For me, the next stanza describes what happened to me right before the crash and explosion . . ."
Now that she's back in the atmosphere,
I'm afraid that she might think of me as
Plain old Jane told a story about a man
Who was too afraid to fly, so he never did land.
"Plain old Jane, I think, refers to an elementary school book used to teach children to read. If you don't spread your wings and fly, or explore new ideas, places, or things, you will never grow or accomplish anything. And you'll never learn to land."
He didn't know how much he should reveal about his ordeal. Committed to letting her know the truth, he forged on. "Right before the Whitestar crashed, I had escaped from the room where I was being held. I didn't know where to go, but I ran anyway. Anna was chasing me, trying to convince me to turn to the side of the shadows. But I couldn't . . . I just couldn't. I came to a dead end – a balcony that looked over a dark abyss – over nothingness. I didn't know what to do. Suddenly, I heard Kosh tell me to jump. I hesitated, and he repeated the command. Since I was going to die anyway, I figured this would be a better death than to be blown up. So, I jumped."
"As I began to fall, I remembered the first night you made it rain for me . . . one of my favorite memories. I heard your voice saying that you would watch over me and catch me. I trusted you and just let myself fall. I don't know how long I floated on the air, but it felt like forever. Eventually I awoke . . . with Lorien. The time I spent with him was confusing, and I still don't understand everything that happened. I tried to make it out of the tunnels but only walked in circles. I was stuck between life and death. The choice was mine. I remember Lorien telling me I had a lot to die for, but he asked if I had anything to live for." He smiled and looked toward Delenn to gauge her reaction. Seeing her patiently waiting, he asked, "Do you know the first and only thing that came to my mind?"
"No," she admitted quietly.
"It was a name, only a name. It was your name, Delenn. You were and are the one thing I have to live for. If it weren't for you, your love and devotion, I wouldn't have returned."
Delenn bit her lip. "I did not know that your death was so complicated. I should have expected. And I am forever grateful you returned. I am not proud of my behavior after your death, but all I could think about was joining you in the places where no shadows fall. If not for Stephen, I would have. I am honored that you live for me . . . for us. As do I for you."
Overcome with emotion, John felt his throat tighten, making speech impossible. Instead, he slowly leaned toward Delenn, gently placing his lips on hers. Their lips melted together, mingling with their breath and tongues. After a few long moments, he ended the kiss, pulling her closer. While taking a slow deep breath to memorize her scent, he caressed her back. "Do you want me to continue?" His voice was strained with emotion, barely a whisper. "I'm not sure how much more of this I can take."
"Yes, John. Please continue." Her voice was tender. "I will be here for you at the end…always."
"Okay, I'll try. But I've told you almost everything already." He released his hold and returned to his previous position on the couch. "Earlier today, in the old war room, you told me I'd changed. You said I need to be dangerous to do what lies ahead of me, and that it would be easier if you weren't here. In some ways, I disagree. It'll never be easier for me with you gone. But in other ways, I know you're right. If I'm going up against President Clark, I need to be ruthless and dangerous. Essentially, you were giving me permission to fly and promising to be here for me when I land. I want to thank you for that. Deep down, I knew what needed to be done, just not how to tell you."
"As I said before, John, I know your heart as I know my own. We are one soul together. And I will always be here for you whether you change, fly, or land. I promise." Her hand calmly closed over his, as she gazed deeply into his eyes.
He nodded. "I know you will." Again, he felt he needed to lighten the mood. "Back to the growth topic, I have a small confession to make."
"What is that?"
"There's one thing that you do that intrigues me and makes me want to change. When I watch you meditate, I sometimes think I might like to learn. I think it might relax me," he confessed with a hint of discomfort. "Maybe one day, when things quiet down, you could teach me?" He knew his eyes would betray his attempt at hiding his mischievous intent.
Eyes dancing mischievously, she joined in the fun. "I would be happy to teach you to meditate. You are right. It will help you to grow both mentally and spiritually. That will give me something to look forward to." She laughed. "I'll make sure to remind you, in the future, that you wanted to learn. Perhaps you will not be happy that I have an excellent memory."
He smiled at the sweet chime of her laugh. "Oh, I'm sure you won't let me forget. Come on; let's finish with this page before the night's over. In the next stanza, the poet wants to know if the girl did all the things she dreamed of and if she missed him . . ."
But tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet?
Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day?
And head back to the Milky Way?
But tell me, did Venus blow your mind?
Was it everything you wanted to find?
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?
He chuckled. "The next part is kind of funny. The writer mentions things in his life he couldn't imagine living without . . ."
Can you imagine no love, pride, deep-fried chicken,
Your best friend always sticking up for you?
Even when I know you're wrong.
Can you imagine no first dance, freeze-dried romance, five-hour phone conversation,
The best soy latte that you ever had,
And me?
"The things we can't live without are different for everyone. Without these things, our life would be lonely, sad, unfulfilled. I guess the guy liked fried chicken . . ."
Delenn frowned. "What is fried chicken? And freeze-dried romance, a phone conversation, and a soy latte?"
"I remember having to look a few of these things up myself. Fried chicken is a really, wonderful tasting bird from Earth. If we're ever there for a visit, I'll get my mom to cook it for you. I think you'd like it. A phone conversation is like our Babcom system without the picture. When teenagers fall in love, or anyone else, for that matter, they like to talk on the phone for a long time. Soy latte was some type of coffee drink. And I never could figure out what was meant by a freeze-dried romance. That one still stumps me." He looked toward Delenn. "The one thing that I couldn't live without is you."
With the tips of her fingers, she traced his jaw and lightly caressed his lips. "I feel the same, John. You are what I live for."
"The rest of the poem mostly just repeats of how he feels. At the end, though, he mentions that she is no longer in his atmosphere but still looking for herself."
But tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet?
Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day?
And head back toward the Milky Way?
And tell me, did you sail across the sun?
Did you make it to the Milky Way; to see the lights all faded.
And that heaven is overrated?
Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star,
One without a permanent scar,
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself?
And did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day?
And did you fall for a shooting star, a shooting star?
And are you lonely looking for yourself out there?
John knew, now that the poem had ended and revelations had been put forth, there would be many more conversations revolving around his feelings of insecurity. With time and patience, though, maybe he would come to terms with the fact that he would cease to exist in twenty years. Then he would leave Delenn alone, something he could hardly imagine. But until then, he firmly believed that, together, they could do anything. The best years were yet to come. Years he would spend loving Delenn, as he had never loved another.
He closed the book and placed it back on the coffee table. "Delenn, I know this is a lot to discuss in one night. You might have a lot of questions. But it's getting really late, and I don't want to ruin your entire evening talking about so many depressing things . . ."
Delenn quickly interrupted him. "Yes, John. It is late, past midnight. But I have no plans to go anywhere until morning. All I must do is leave your quarters and walk to the Whitestar. My travel arrangements have been made. Besides, we must finish the ritual."
"Aaaww . . . do we have to?" His lips pursed into a pout.
"Yes, we have to," she chided. "This ritual is almost over. You have shared your deepest, darkest fears and now it is my turn to share. I promise. You will be glad to have one more ceremony finished. Besides, I think you will be pleased with the outcome."
Well, it was almost over anyway. "Okay, I'll finish the ritual. But, just to keep me in line, what is the outcome?"
"No, John. That is my secret. If you . . . stay in line . . . as you say, you will find out." She knew he wanted to end this as soon as possible and she was more than happy to oblige. She was nervous herself, but she was ready. After she left in the morning, it would be a long time before they would see each other again.
"You are right, John. I do have many questions. They will have to wait until I return. I understand your concerns and fears, because I share them." She paused, wondering how much to reveal tonight. Deciding on her course of action, she continued, "When I leave for Minbar in the morning, I do not know when I will return. I must stave off civil war and attempt to rebuild the Gray Council. This will be very difficult. If I have the opportunity to grow – to, as your poet would say, have more drops of Jupiter in my hair – I will never be lonely. This is because I will always have my memories of you. You will always be in my mind, heart, and soul. We are soul mates, you and I. We will be together, forever."
She shifted on the sofa, turning to face him. Taking both his hands in hers, she looked deeply into his smoky hazel eyes. "John, you touched my soul with your revelations. I am deeply moved by the depths of your feelings. I need you to understand that I feel the same for you. We are not of the same blood, but we are of the same heart."
With this last confession, she decided to bring the ritual to a close. She placed her fingers on his cheek and began to explore his face. She traced the worry lines on his forehead, down his cheek, to his lips. When she touched his soft lips, he closed his eyes and drew a sharp breath. Slowly, she leaned toward him, pressing her lips to his. The kiss began slowly, but quickly turned passionate. She wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling him closer, as she massaged the back of his neck.
John moaned and began to pull away. "Delenn . . ." he gasped, but she continued her onslaught on his lips. "Please . . ." Her touch was driving him insane and he needed to put on the brakes.
Delenn gave him one final kiss before pulling back. She sighed. "Yes, John?"
Taking a deep breath, he tried to distance himself from her by shifting his position on the couch. "I think we need to slow down just a little. Frankly, you're driving me crazy."
She inclined her head as she observed the emotions flickering across his face. "John, I do not think you understand."
"Understand what?"
"When Minbari become close, as we have become close, rituals must be completed." When he groaned, she placed her hand on his thigh to gain his attention. "John, you will be happy to know that we are ready to close the Ack'Nowl ceremony. You have confessed your feelings, as have I. We have reconfirmed our commitment to one another. And we are preparing to separate for an undetermined amount of time."
She prepared herself for his reaction by trying to remain objective. "As I stated before, the ending depends upon the number and types of rituals previously performed and their success. Since we have completed the sleeping and Shan'fall rituals, we can progress to a more intimate conclusion. Only if you wish to do so, of course."
John's expression changed from shock to one of caution. "Umm . . . what do . . . I have to do this time?" he asked, stumbling over the words.
Knowing this would be his response, she decided to alleviate his distress quickly. "During the Shan'fall, we had to respectfully explore each others' points of pleasure with prayer and meditation. Our entourage was present to make sure the traditions were followed and that certain unspoken boundaries were not crossed." She noticed his stiff posture at the mention of the other Minbari. "Tonight, we are permitted to complete this ritual alone and in what ever fashion we deem appropriate." She decided to press her advantage. She began to trace lazy circles lightly around his knee and up the inside of his thigh.
John sighed and grabbed her hand to stop her ministrations. "Delenn . . . please stop. Listen to me. I understand what you're saying, but I'm not sure if you're ready for this . . . if we're ready for this." He fought to separate the immediate hunger his flesh felt for her from the longing his heart held for their future happiness. "Delenn . . . there's nothing in the world that I would rather do than spend the evening making love to you. But so many things happened tonight, so many emotions. I just don't want you to have any regrets."
Delenn was touched that he held her in such regard. Nonetheless, the ending to this custom had been confirmed as soon as the Shan'fall ritual had been completed, by her convictions and by her heart. "John . . . I am glad that you respect my feelings. But it is our tradition to complete the ritual. It matters to me that we do this properly." Rising from the couch, she took his hands in hers, urging him to stand. "You have two paths in front of you tonight. Only you can choose the path that you will follow. This decision has not been made frivolously. Even at this point in our relationship, we each have the right to choose the closing of the ceremony." She turned and began walking toward his bedroom, guiding him. At the threshold, she turned, blue eyes uniting with hazel ones – one soul reaching out to another. "Through many nights of meditation . . . my mind, heart, and soul agree. This is what I want, John. Please let me stay. Please stay with me."
John hesitated for only a moment before he gathered her into his arms, wrapping them around her waist as he buried his face in the crevice of her neck and shoulder. He took a deep breath, inhaling her unique fragrance that reminded him of both summer rain and sunshine. Sighing, he placed a gentle kiss below her ear before whispering, "I love you, Delenn. Yes, you can stay. Always."
He led her into his bedroom. Silently, he stroked the velvety planes of her face, tracing his fingers across her brow, down her cheek, and across her lips. He pressed his lips to hers, caressing them softly, then with more pressure as his tongue begged for entrance. The kiss intensified until his heart was beating so hard he was sure she could feel it as his chest was pressed to hers. His hands found their way into her hair, to stroke the back of her neck and shoulders.
Suddenly, he not only heard, but felt, a moan escape from deep within her chest. She placed her palms on his chest and began massaging with her fingertips, as if she were absentmindedly smoothing the wrinkles from his shirt. Breaking the kiss, she stepped slightly out of his embrace. Never breaking eye contact, she unfastened the large clasp that held her outer robe in place. "Help me, John . . ."
Unsure if she had uttered a request or a demand, he delicately placed his hands on her waist. She gracefully guided his hands to all the hidden fasteners that held the intricate layers of clothing together. The final removal of the last slip rendered him speechless. She was exquisite, stunning, and his. This was only the second time he had seen her naked. He stared in awe, admiring her soft, smooth, creamy skin; her perfect curves; and her dark, silky hair. It was a reverence he vowed to never lose. "You're . . . beautiful."
She smiled, remembering how he had acted in the same way during the Shan'fall ritual. That night, when they had discovered one another's centers of pleasure without consummating their relationship, remained vivid in her imagination. She remembered his soft, tender hands and how they respectfully explored her body.
His behavior tonight did not surprise her. He always treated her with adoration. She expected that she would have to coax him along, as she had done during the last ceremony. She was happy to comply, knowing that eventually he would feel more comfortable with their shared sensuality.
"Thank you," she whispered. She reached for his shirt, pulling it smoothly from the waistband of his pants. She deftly undid the buttons, placing tantalizing slow, velvety kisses down his chest.
He grabbed her hands as she attempted to unfasten his pants and stopped her protest with a kiss. "Let me . . ." He was struggling to maintain control and knew he couldn't if he didn't do this himself. Smiling in embarrassment, he removed the remainder of his clothes.
It was now Delenn's turn to stare in wonder. She circled his body while her fingers explored the hard planes of his chest, back, and shoulders. Finally she stopped in front of him. "You're . . . beautiful."
He smiled at her innocent expression and pulled her to him. Carefully, he helped her onto his bed, then reclined next to her. With every touch, caress, kiss, and moan, he conveyed his love. Their bodies intertwined and melded together in an exploration of love and commitment, both hearts surrendering and accepting in turn.
When the culmination of their bodies and souls reached contentment, they snuggled together – her head on his chest and their legs tangled together. He stroked her arm, feeling every breath she took, every beat of her heart. "Delenn . . . you are wonderful. Thank you." He sighed and kissed her hair.
Staving off sleep, she replied, "You are welcome, John."
Thinking back on the night's conversation, he made a final confession. "And in the infamous words of the poet, tonight I have sailed across the sun with the wind whipping at my feet. I finally reached heaven, and it was definitely not overrated." Snuggling closer to her, he whispered, "Delenn . . . you are my light . . . and you will never fade in my eyes. I love you."
At a loss for words, she smiled as she kissed on his chest. In her last breath before falling peacefully asleep, she murmured, "I love you, too."
As night passed into morning, a wonderful new memory was floating in the lovers' dreams – dreams that would sustain them through the difficult weeks ahead. Neither knew what the future held, except that their love would survive. A love that would be tested and tried in the next twenty years. A love that would never end and would last throughout eternity. And unseen by the two lovers, grains of stardust shimmered across their skin, like snowflakes sparkling in a column of moonlight.
The End
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