here in creation's bed
. . . i have grown old
remembering the garden,
the hum of the great cats
moving into language, the sweet
fume of the man's rib
as it rose up and began to walk.
it was all glory then,
the winged creatures leaping
like angels, the oceans claiming
their own. let us rest here a time
like two old brothers
who watched it happen and wondered
what it meant.

- Lucille Clifton, Brothers

It was the day of Vir's coronation, and Londo was waiting patiently for Timov to finish with her preparations when a pained expression overcame him. An intense and visceral feeling of being beckoned fell over him, and he knew that the time had come for him to go. He furrowed his brow grimly before taking a last look around Timov's quarters in the palace. "Timov," Londo called to her. She glanced up and seeing the look in his eyes, immediately rose.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing is wrong, my dove. I have some . . . " he paused, searching for the right words, ". . . additional duties now, and I must now go and see to them." He could not tell her that the Universe was summoning him for whatever might lie ahead, but there was no doubt in his mind that he had been instructed to return to the Rim.

Timov's face had grown pale with alarm. "When will I see you again? Will I see you again?"

"At your bidding, I will come back when I am able, so if you need me, you will call," Londo gently replied as he clasped her hands.

Timov's eyes were frantic for a moment before she composed herself. "At the instant I have become accustomed, gods help me, to your constant companionship you leave? After a month of hardly ever leaving my side and on the day of Vir's coronation, no less?" She looked away, trying to push away the feelings that were welling inside her. Rather than acknowledge them directly, she turned to her biting wit. "And how will I sleep, now, without your constant prattle lulling me into sleep? I have become habituated to it. Silence will leave me quite restless." Timov felt an awful gaping precipice looming in her breast.

'Ah," Londo asked her wryly, "yes, how will you fall asleep? I suppose you will take a lover to fill the void, hmm? A doctor, perhaps?"

Rebellion reared in Timov's breast at his teasing tone, "Although I sent the doctor away, perhaps I will find a lover at that. Are you intending upon forbidding me from taking one?"

Londo chuckled, "Oh no, I know better than to forbid Timov, daughter of Algul, from doing anything. You will do whatever I forbid specifically to vex me. But you should know that it will be hard for you and your lover to find any peace, since I will haunt you with all of my spare moments. There is an old earth saying that 'three is a crowd.'"

"Yes, remember that," Timov eyed him squarely, emphasizing his own point back at him. Although what she told Senna had been the truth, Timov was still learning to navigate Londo's constant companionship, and at turns over the past few weeks, she had found him both charming and exasperating, but to her own surprise as each day passed, his constant presence had grown on her to the point where she could no comprehend life without it, nor did she wish his attention and affection to be divided by others any longer. Londo gazed at her for a moment, taking her meaning, before he grunted his acknowledgement. With that, Timov softened. "You will probably haunt me in any event. I imagine I will be quite busy anyway. I have your entire fortune to spend now that I have inherited it."

A chagrined look passed over Londo's face. "And what do you plan to buy with all of my ducats?"

Timov squared her shoulders, a wicked gleam in her eye as she needled him. "Pool boys, I suppose. Something young and muscular to pass the time."

"Pool boys," he scoffed. "There, you are trying to toy with me again, but now I know better to fall for your games."

The teasing glint in Timov's eyes melted from her face as she became serious again. She leaned in to his arms to embrace him and whispered into his ear softly as if someone might overhear her tender words, "Don't go."

The sound of her fear and worry tore at his heartstrings. "I'm sorry," he murmured gently, "I have no choice in this matter. It is my duty, as you have a duty to our people here." As he felt Timov's tears in his shoulder, he chastised her lightly, "Do not cry. You have never cried before when I've left. In fact, the last time I left for Babylon 5, you broke out a bottle of earth champagne, you remember?"

Timov pulled back, dabbing at her red eyes. "That was purely coincidental," she sniffed. "Besides, things are different now."

Londo searched her eyes for a moment before he responded. In that moment, he perceived what could have been for so many years but which he had overlooked, and she had disdained. And now, when they had found and cultivated what had long been missing from their marriage, it was a bittersweet goodbye. "Yes, I suppose they are." He smiled, trying to lighten the mood, but his smile did not reach his eyes, "But, now I am dead, so perhaps I am merely a figment of your imagination."

Having composed herself, Timov waved a hand in annoyance. "The gods help me if all my imagination can come up with is Londo Mollari." Though she jested with him lightly now, her barbed spears had wounded Londo greatly in the past. And yet, they seemed to have been granted another chance at what lay between them, and they had made the most of it, but now it seemed that it was ending all too soon. He was slipping through her fingers again, and there was nothing she could do about it, but she took solace in his words that he would return at her bidding. She desperately wanted him to stay, but as with all things, it seemed that these moments could not last forever.

Londo laughed at her remark. "Well," he knew he could not delay much longer, "in my absence, I do not doubt that you will speak for both of us with wisdom and grace, and you will look after Vir and Senna and assist them in their new duties when they most need it. There are sure to be trying times in the future, as there were in the past, so they will need you, as do our people."

"Yes," Timov agreed, "For one thing, Vir has spoken to me about his wish to end the practice of slavery in the Republic."

A concerned look fell over Londo's face, "That will be a long and difficult battle. He will likely face armed insurrection in the colonies," he clenched his jaw with concern. "If he embarks upon this path, he will need even more assistance to hold the Republic together."

Timov nodded her agreement, thinking what a difficult path Vir had before him with the aftermath of the Drakh incursion, let alone all the other problems facing the Republic. She glanced sadly out the window. "I wish you could see Vir's coronation."

"So do I," Londo agreed, regret evident in his voice. And yet, he thought, how appropriate that Vir shall be crowned after I have been summoned away. "But I am afraid I must go. I shall have to settle for your account of the festivities when I next see you." He embraced her with emotion welling in his chest and stole a kiss before he turned toward the door. As he retreated through it, Timov whispered so softly that he would be unable to hear her, "Londo?"

As he passed over the threshold, Londo paused and turned. "You must at least wait for me to leave before you call me back to you," he chided her gently. "Do not doubt that I can hear you whenever you call to me."

The diminutive woman who caused terror in the hearts of so many ran to him, throwing her arms around Londo's chest in another emotional embrace. "There are still so many things we have left unsaid," she choked away her emotion. "You say that I will see you again, but I want you to know this before you go. I know that I have said things to hurt you in the past," she whispered, "and they have wounded you deeply. For those things, I am sorry. Sorry for the wounds they have caused. Sorry that our marriage started with antipathy caused by the actions of both of our families. The gods did not grant us a smooth start to our life together, and it had a very rocky middle, but you have given it a good end. And I know what you have done for me these past weeks, and for our people these many years. Do not doubt that, buried beneath your vice and sins, I have finally seen the man sometimes hidden from the world. The generous, patriotic, passionate man who was hidden to me for so long. Now I have found him. You have very rough edges, Londo Mollari, but rather than cut me, I find now that I admire their individuality. You are the roughest of gemstones, Londo, but a gem, nevertheless."

"Great Maker," Londo said in surprise. Timov had managed to do it again - she had taken his breath away. He closed his eyes, trying to hold the moment in his memory. To win her respect, support, and love after all of the events of the past and the present was bittersweet, but her words had made it all the more poignant. He squeezed her one last time and released her, stepping back as he drew himself to his full height. "I will always be waiting for you with anticipation, my dove, beyond the rim," he told her softly before he re-assumed the stoic look of centuries of Centauri noblemen faithfully acquiescing to their duties.

Londo took Timov's hand in his and kissed it with a deep bow before pulling her hand to his chest, closing the gap between their bodies again. He kissed the nape of her neck and the bare skin at the cleft of her bosom before finally finding her mouth with his, letting a fervent kiss linger there before pulling away. As he did so, he placed her hand between his hearts, so she could feel how rapidly they were beating and the quickness of his breath.

Timov smiled at his flash of desperation, twin pangs of melancholy and loneliness hitting her chest only when their intertwined fingers separated at last and his figure retreated through the door. As he did so, the Empress Dowager turned away so that she did not have to witness the bittersweet tragedy of his figure fading from her life once again.

Reaching the seascape of the Crossroads, Londo approvingly observed that the crowd in the square beneath the travertine colosseum had noticeably thinned, and as he scanned the crowd, he saw the flash of blue and gold he was coming to associate with G'Kar. Making his way through the square, Londo greeted the Narn with a nod.

"I see you have also been summoned," G'Kar pointed beyond the coliseum. "Have you been briefed on our assignment?"

Londo frowned, "No, what is it?"

G'Kar lowered his voice so only Londo could hear him. "There is a council to the Universe – it is difficult to describe. In broad strokes, perhaps I can liken it to the role of the Advisory Council. This council is called the Great Council, and representatives of the living races are sent to it at the Universe's command. The Council advises the Fates as they spin the future. It is . . ." G'Kar's eyes flashed with happiness, "a great honor. G'Quan has served as the Narn ambassador to the Council for centuries, but he is moving on to the next place. There has been a Centauri vacancy for some time, and the Universe has bid us to come."

"So," Londo snorted, "we are to be ambassadors once again. But why would the Universe – or even the Fates require counsel from inferior beings, hmm?"

G'Kar responded with weight, "When there are multiple paths to the same destination, and choice is infinite, perhaps counsel – even if inferior, flawed counsel – is the wisest thing the Universe can require."

Londo shrugged. "Well, in any event, we must not keep the Universe waiting. She is a jealous lover, and it looks as though we have some adventures in front of us. Uncharted adventures."

G'Kar smiled, "About that, you are right, Mollari. It is a new adventure. Daunting but...I find I am quite looking forward to it. It is just the sort of challenge I enjoy."

As they prepared to depart, Londo noticed a familiar face in the square, and he held up a finger at G'Kar. "One minute," he weaved his way through the crowd and strode toward the wisp looking over the tranquil sea. Catching her arm, Londo came face-to-face with Cassiella.

"Pa'tazio!" she cried, a smile instantly written on her face.

"Cassiella," he beamed. "I thought I saw you in a crowd of Narn the other day, but . . . perhaps I was mistaken."

Cassiella flashed an enigmatic smile at Londo. "You never know where you might find a Xon."

"Well," he returned her smile, "It is good to see you here. About those history books we talked about - I have not forgotten."

Cassiella bowed. "I did not think you would, Pa'tazio."

Londo pointed a finger at her, "I believe I have set some things in motion to shed some light on that part of our history with more clarity than we have had until now."

"I am glad to hear it, Pa'tazio," Cassiella nodded once.

"And, Cassiella," he added, "I want you to know that in my new assignment, I will attempt to negotiate for representatives of the past races to serve the Great Council as well. Of course, this is primarily because a place as wondrous as Centauri Prime should have two votes on the Great Council, not for any other reason."

Cassiella almost called Londo's bluff because she instinctively knew that his thoughts stemmed from a deeper commitment than merely another vote on the Council, but she restrained herself. "Of course, Pa'tazio, of course."

"Perhaps," Londo shook his finger at her, "when it is time for you to move on to another place, perhaps such a calling would suit you."

Cassiella's eyes danced. "Perhaps. But perhaps not. It is a decision beyond both of us."

"Yes," Londo agreed in a lighthearted tone, "but diplomatic endeavors are my specialty. So . . . " he spread his hands, "Perhaps we should place a bet on whether I shall see you seated there one day?"

"No bets," Cassiella laughed. "Not with you. I've learned my lesson."

Londo clapped her gently on the back, "I will be seeing you then."

"Go well, Pa'tazio," Cassiella bowed deeply.

"Stay well, Cassiella," Londo bid her goodbye and headed for G'Kar's location on the other side of the square.

After Londo returned to the Rim, the Empress Dowager made a promise to herself that she would awaken early each morning and watch the sun rise over the palace. She had never been a romantic, and she had never seen the practicality of people staring off into the atmosphere's changing colors, but something in her changed after the events following Londo's death. Although she did not know for certain, she suspected that her time in this world had been meant to end in her deathbed off world the day Londo had passed beyond, so the renewed sense of life she had been granted inspired her to embrace each moment. She surmised that wherever the Rim was, Londo was somewhere beyond the twilight and the stars that faded in the sunlight. So every day, she awoke early to see the cascade of colors dawning on Centauri Prime, and she cherished each rainbow inspired masterpiece that was created and swept away by an unseen hand every morning. And when Londo periodically returned from the Rim, surprising her with his booming and unmistakable voice, she would pull him to the veranda so they could enjoy the sunrise together, one of the few times he would fall into contemplative silence while wrapping her in his arms. There, in the masterpiece of the mornings, Timov found appreciation for the romanticism that had been missing her whole life, and the sunsets never ceased to remind her of what she had both lost and found.

After many years had passed, and the aged Empress Dowager watched her last sunrise, Cassiella retrieved Lady Timov when her consciousness faded from the Centauri Prime and awoke in the Land of the Fog. Cassiella could sense quiet determination and fierceness pulsing through Timov. And, not surprisingly, when Timov awoke, she did not hesitate before picking herself up, brushing the grass from herself, and straightening her gown.

"This is a rather dreary place," she remarked. "It could certainly do with a little sunshine." Tuning to Cassiella, Timov looked over her guide with chagrin, waiting for the woman to introduce herself.

The Guardian bowed to her charge, "Welcome, Pa'tazia, I was sent for you."

Timov harrumphed. "By Londo, I suppose. He thinks he's lord of the universe."

Cassiella smiled amusedly and cast her eyes downward. "That is not exactly how it works, Pa'tazia," she replied.

Disregarding the reply, Timov gestured toward Cassiella. "Come along. I have much to do," Timov marched off toward their destination without any direction from Cassiella, and Cassiella was resigned to follow the Empress who, apparently, had already determined exactly where she was bound to go.

As they waited in the square for directions concerning their first meeting at the Great Council, Londo poked G'Kar with a finger. "So here we are again."

"Yes," G'Kar said, a mock look of weariness painted on his face.

"There is an earth saying about hell, I am trying to remember," Londo rubbed his chin in thought.

"You would know. You seem to have made Earth trivia something of a personal pastime," G'Kar replied, taking in the view of the sea while they waited.

"Ah, that is right. You are only an expert in earth women," Londo prodded him. "Those poor women probably had no idea what they were getting into."

"I cannot help it if earth women are magnetically drawn to me," G'Kar said without a hint of being insincere. "Perhaps it is the allure of my animal prowess in bed."

"Spare me," Londo rolled his eyes. "Anyway, let me see – oh yes, I think the phrase is, "Hell is other people. So, you see, I have deduced that I am, in fact, in hell. I lost that judgment after all."

G'Kar shook his head. "Besides, I thought the phrase was 'hell is of your own making.' So," G'Kar gestured toward the colosseum. "There you go. You did it."

Londo protested, "I saved your life in there!"

"Only after I saved your life," G'Kar responded with mirth.

Londo's face fell into disapproval. "I do not want to get into this."

"Good," G'Kar said, clasping his hands behind his back.

Seeing a figure in the distance waiving to them, G'Kar and Mollari strolled up the knoll behind the colosseum toward the figure. As they walked, they took in the sights and sounds of the busy Crossroads as they, themselves, embarked on the new adventure laying before them. But this time, each man would represent the interests of all the sentient beings confined to the Universe they called home, rather than championing their specific race as they had on Babylon 5. In naming them to the Counsel, the Universe had expressed great confidence in their ability to serve in these new roles admirably.

Just before they reached the figure on the knoll, Mollari turned toward G'Kar, a sudden intensity in his eyes, "They say you can live many lifetimes in the moment of death. What if . . . what if all of this since our moment of death – what if we are only dreaming?"

G'Kar grasped his forearm with emotion, "Then let us dream."

– Fin –