By Felicia Ferguson
Author's Note: Just so everyone knows, no I did not write this in response to any requests, pleas, or threats of bodily harm. :-D I had already planned an epilogue, but as it does not fit in the Now timeline, I couldn't tell you it existed. I hope this ties up the loose ends and provides a satisfactory conclusion to a nice long yarn. Enjoy!
Feedback: As always, if the story moves you, I'd love to hear about it.
Now (almost a year later)
"Down in the valley...valley so low...hang your head over...hear the wind blow…" the voice sang softly to the newborn infant cradled in her arms. When the lullaby ended and he had snuggled in the crook of her arm, she whispered to him of his parents' lives, of their love for him as he drifted off to sleep.
Almost a year had passed since the Titan had been sent on the peace mission to Romulus. Will Riker and Deanna Troi and countless others had died in the endeavor, along with, at least at the time, Starfleet's hopes of peace with the Romulan Empire. A light blinked on a console in the living area, but the woman ignored it, refusing to allow the outside world to intrude on the solitude. Reality would descend soon enough on their piece of heaven. It could wait a little longer.
The woman looked at the figure asleep on her bed. He had grown so much over the past year, and yet, he still slept with his thumb in his mouth. There would be time enough for him to change the habit and for now she let him sleep, content with the sweet picture he made.
Her thoughts turned to her other child, who was a child no longer, but a wife and mother. It was as if her Little One were Alice and had fallen down the rabbit hole, fallen toward and found her destiny. But it wasn't a fall that Deanna had enjoyed, that much her mother knew. Her Imzadi killed in action weeks after their wedding, herself in command of his vessel and faced with deteriorating peace talks, a life growing inside her with little to no hope of a peaceful future.
One would have thought that after Fate had conspired to unite them three times, it would have been more concerned with the course of its machinations. Lwaxana still didn't have the full details as to what had transpired between her daughter and that Romulan woman, Sela. In truth, she didn't want to know. She had felt enough pain, had known instantly when her Little One had died. The bond that linked them had ripped in half, doubling Lwaxana over in the middle of a meeting with the president of the UFP.
No sooner had she regained consciousness had she felt what she would have thought of as unthinkable. Their bond had returned. Deanna was alive. Thanks to the combined efforts of Beverly Crusher and the Titan's Michael Harper, Deanna had been brought back to life. Their quick response led to the three hour surgery to replace her daughter's heart and lungs. And, miracle of miracles, they had saved the little boy who had slept in harm's way, right under his mother's heart.
Lwaxana leaned over and kissed her grandson's forehead, sending a silent prayer of thanks to the gods for bringing him to her. The line of the Fifth House would continue. It was a fact which filled her with intense satisfaction, but more than that, she relished in the joy that this child would bring her daughter. Lwaxana remembered the short time Deanna had enjoyed with her son, Ian. Deanna was born to be a mother; her soul craved it, even if she hadn't thought about it until Ian had been conceived. Lwaxana knew because she was the same. For all her eccentricities, Lwaxana Troi was first and foremost a mother and most concerned about her children's lives. If that weren't so, why would she have so often interfered on her daughter's behalf?
Her Little One could now fully know the joys of parenting, in addition to the other duties the Federation had foisted upon her. The Fifth House had been recently honored to add another ambassador to her line, though Lwaxana couldn't understand how Deanna tolerated Romulus -- such a dark, dank world. After Praetor Tal'Aura's duplicity was exposed, the conquered worlds had revolted. Only the agreement that the Federation would send an ambassador to monitor the process of electing a new praetor had calmed the escalating hostilities. Deanna had been appointed soon after at the behest of Commander Donatra. It was an intriguing twist to the political landscape of that world.
The Titan had remained in orbit around Romulus for months while Deanna engaged in diplomatic meetings with various worlds of the Romulan Empire. Growing bigger every day, Lwaxana worried that her grandson would have been born in space, or worse yet, on Romulus. In the last few weeks of her pregnancy, Deanna finally relented and came home for the birth. Of course, Lwaxana had had some help in convincing her head strong daughter of the rightness of having the child in his ancestral home on Betazed.
She sighed as she lifted a curl away from the infant's forehead. He stirred for a moment then relaxed once more. His life thus far had already been difficult; there was no doubt he was exhausted. It had been a difficult pregnancy, quite different from Ian's rapid and painless progression to life. He truly had been kind to her. This child's birth had been an arduous four hours during which Lwaxana was certain she would lose both daughter and grandson. But he was here now, and his mother lay sleeping in the next room. That was all that mattered.
Glancing at the chronometer, Lwaxana rose and padded to the other bedroom, leaving Barin to his dreams. The doctors had requested that she keep a close eye on Deanna for the first day after the birth, just in case any complications arose.
Lwaxana slipped into the open door, her gaze automatically finding Deanna swathed in crisp linen bedsheets. Light streamed through the four windows and beckoned for those inside to go out and enjoy a picnic. It would be a few days before her Little One was up to such an endeavor, but as soon as she was fit, Lwaxana was certain they would introduce the baby to the wonders of his home planet.
After a moment of silent contemplation, her eyes drifted to a man slumped in a chair. Her lips softened into a loving smile at the sight. Deanna's hand cupped in his own, he looked as exhausted as the rest of the members of his little family. He had been adamant that, though he wouldn't leave her side, he would not sleep in her bed yet.
Deanna stirred, eyes blinking against the sun. As her pupils adjusted to the bright light that filled the room, they focused in on her husband. She was careful not to disturb the soft weight of his hand as it cradled her palm. Deanna still pinched herself at the reality of her life. When Sela's phaser fire had hit her, she knew she had died. She had even felt Will's mind as the block from her meta-conscious mind slipped away. In that instant, she knew he was as much alive as she was dead. Or at least about to be dead.
Consciousness surfaced several days later and with it the continued, steady thrum of their Imzadi bond. It was more welcome to her than the sound of her own, now artificial, heartbeat. Unfortunately, merely being alive was just the first step for her husband. The mind meld had brought him out of the deep unconscious state he had existed in, but it wasn't able to heal the burns that covered much of his body. It had taken weeks to regenerate his face and hands and even now, Deanna still wasn't convinced that his nose was the same.
Will and Beverly both argued that it was in exactly the same place as before, but Deanna knew better. It was strange, the process of dermal reconstruction and regeneration should have been the most painful procedure he underwent, but Will had more difficulty recovering from the mind meld. Days afterward, he often complained of deep-seated headaches that analgesics couldn't relieve.
One of the casualties of the regeneration process was his wedding ring. The gold had melted down to its molecular structure in some places. Will had just laughed and told everyone that she had literally gotten under his skin. Deanna smiled at the memory and the process of replacing his ring. He had been adamant that a replicated copy would be sufficient, but she had decided to return to their original jeweler and request a new band.
Her eyes drifted from his face to the ring in question. The gold glittered in the daylight, sparkling with untold promise. She hadn't expected to find anything in his now sleep-laxed grip and was surprised to see a data padd lying against his abdomen. Squinting her eyes, she tried to read the line that had been highlighted, but the light reflected off the padd's surface obscuring her view.
A light gurgle from the direction of the door pulled Deanna's attention away from her husband. She smiled at her mother who stood cradling the baby. Her son. She was a mother. Though she still felt some residual twinges of pain from the long and pained delivery, Deanna pulled her hand from Will's grip and struggled to sit up. Will woke with a start, ready to pounce into action if the situation warranted such a response. He glanced first to Deanna and then, seeing she was fine, turned his attention to the door. He, too, smiled at the sight.
Lwaxana nodded to the child in her arms and murmured, "The baby's hungry."
Will helped his wife sit up and then eased more pillows behind her. Lwaxana cooed to the infant as she brought him to his mother and with an ease borne not of practice, but of nature, Deanna took the boy tucked him into her breast.
Lwaxana, realizing the intimacy of the moment, nodded to her son-in-law and slipped from the room as quietly as she had entered it. She had her own child to tend to, after all.
Will's eyes lit with awe as he leaned over and stroked the boy's dark head. They had yet to decide on a name. She had already named one child after her father. He had once been the father of a boy named "Jean-Luc." And both shuddered at the thought of using Will's middle name.
He traced the soft line of the baby's round cheek and whispered, "What about David?"
"David," Deanna murmured, tasting the name on her lips, her tongue. After a moment's consideration, she asked, "What does it mean?"
Her husband smiled, love pouring from his gaze. He slipped his fingers under her free hand and kissed her knuckles. "It means, 'beloved.'"
Her eyes filled with tears. How appropriate for their son. A product of their love, their Imzadi bond, he should know he was as important, if not more so, than either of them.
It had been the modified Romulan disrupter that had ended the life they had known. But it was the skill of two doctors and a Vulcan telepath that had given them a second chance and their son life.
The comm light continued to blink on the console next to the bed. After a moment of silence, Will murmured, "He's never going to leave us alone."
"I know," she replied still rocking the child.
He was a man known to them both, a man whom they now considered an ally. With Commander Donatra by his side, M'Ret had risen through the ranks of would-be praetors. His homecoming, albeit in secret, marked a turning point in Romulan history. For the first time, a citizen had resurfaced bringing with him promises of a glorious future, a future filled with peace. They welcomed their prodigal home with open arms, sensing in him a truth. He had returned to help them as a people instead of hoping to serve his own ambition.
Will's lips lifted in mirth-filled irony. "So are you going to answer him?"
Deanna returned his smile with a mischievous one of her own and replied, "Why? You're the captain."
"Yes, but you're the Federation Ambassador."
She chuckled at his response and shook her head, content with her current state. M'Ret could wait. Deanna wanted to savor her life a moment more.
Although the route was not one she would have chosen for herself or for Will, perhaps the gods had known what they were doing after all. Perhaps she truly had found her destiny, not merely as wife and counselor, but as wife, counselor, mother, and ambassador. And like all destinations, it was the journey that had prepared her, had plumbed the depths of her strength and fortitude and rewarded her.
Because in the end, it is the journey, not the destination, that makes a person.
...finis...