Sylvia Chapter 20 (WIP)
The gathering was large, but not huge. Only friends and family had been invited to take witness of this solemn and serious affair.
At the front of the room, standing to one side of the pulpit where she led discussions every Sunday morning and afternoons, a white and red woman with down turned wings smiled gently at the two people who faced her.
"It took them long enough," grumbled Grandfather softly.
"Shhh." Oma smiled without taking her eyes from the scene at the front. "The pastor's speaking."
"We're gathered here today," said the soft, gentle voice of the winged woman, "To witness the wedding of Jabez and Starforge."
"Kiss the wench!" came a call from the back, where the entire sturdy crew of a salvage ship sat in an uncomfortable state of gleaming polish and dentlessness.
"Shhh!" said someone else, laughing. "It's not time yet."
Up at the front the groom's broad shoulders hunched up nervously, but the white and red pastor never blinked. Serene and content, she continued leading the pair through the marriage ceremony.
"Do you, Jabez, take Starforge as your legally witnessed husband, to have and to hold, to love and protect, through illness and health, war and peace?"
And the soft reply. "I do."
"Do you, Starforge..."
"I am going to sneeze."
Oma reached over and wiped at Grandfather's intakes. "You better not, that's all we need to get the explorer's wife going."
"The pastor's brothers are drunker than she is." Grandfather shut his eye and tried his hardest to shut off sensations from his intakes.
"They..." Oma turned and looked, then face palmed. "Are. How is she standing up so straight?"
"I don't know, but she has always surprised us." Grandfather sighed softly as the ticklish sensation faded, then looked down at the blanket wrapped bundle that he held in his arms. "I just hope that they do not."
"If they try anything I'll let them have it," growled a deep, rough voice from the empty seat next to Oma.
"I knew you were there." Grandfather looked up from the bundle, his mouth twitching as he faced the front.
"It's my son's wedding. I'm allowed."
"You'd have come even if you weren't." A second voice, a lovely alto that was full of laughter. "And you know it, old man."
"The Commander's older than I am, now."
"Shhhh." Oma's eyes twinkled with laughter of her own.
"Fold that cannon away. This isn't the time, or the place," came the female voice a moment later.
"It's still bigger than Starforge's."
"...Did you hear what I said?"
"No..."
Grandfather bowed his head, unable to pinch the bridge of his nose because of his burden. But the twinkle in his eye betrayed his true feelings about the situation, and Oma promptly chuckled and poked him in the side.
"Ack!"
Heads all over the chapel turned to look at him, and smiles bloomed on multiple faces.
"Don't go to sleep, Grandfather," called out some wit. "You'll miss Starforge blushing as he tries to get up the bearings to kiss Jai."
The pastor's serene expression never altered as the groom saluted his heckler, but most of the guests laughed at his subsequent embarrassment.
"You might be able to take the man out of the army, but you can't take the army out of the man," murmured Oma's invisible sister softly. "Old man, you sit still. You're not going to punch the artist in the head."
Angry muttering like some huge dog shut up in a box.
"I now pronounce you a married couple. Seal it with a kiss."
The resultant cheer rattled the stained glass pictures in their frames against the walls, and woke the little sleeper in the bundle.
"Shhh." Grandfather let the baby sit up, then rubbed her back as she looked around with her quizzical, pale blue eyes. His own eye held sadness now as he remembered the girl who had died two years before and who had left this bright, curious infant native in her place. As much as he loved the little one, the ache of missing Sylvia seemed to grow every day.
Unaware of her grandfather's inner turmoil, the baby yawned and cuddled her two dolls, one of toweling and the other of yarn, then rubbed her face on the fuzzy one sleepily as she softly let out little random bits of code that meant nothing.
Oma leaned against her husband's arm as the chapel denizens broke up into cheerful groups who swiftly escorted the bride and groom out of the room and into the larger one next door. "Are you awake now, Silverflame?"
Silverflame looked up alertly, then gave a mighty yawn and drifted back to sleep.
"We'll have to save some treats for her," said Oma softly, her fingers gently smoothing the little head.
"Yes." Grandfather rearranged the blanket, and then passed the baby to his wife before glancing past her. "...I don't hear anything."
"No. They're somewhere in the crowd." Oma put Silverflame up to her shoulder and then slipped out of the pew herself so that she could go for her husband's hover chair.
"Here, Grandma." Arcturus grinned as he pushed the mobility aid up the aisle. "Trade you a cousin for a chair?"
"No trade." Oma laughed and stepped out of the way so that her strapping grandson could help her husband move from seat to seat.
"I always feel embarrassed when I use this device." Grandfather groaned softly as he settled back after the transfer.
"Trust me, Grandpa. It's better than having you knocked over by someone who got drunk before they got here." Arcturus watched as Oma gave Silverflame back to his grandfather, then pushed the chair into the adjoining celebration room.
"Or who are getting drunk now?" Grandfather looked thoughtfully at the explorer, who was tucked neatly behind a potted broadleaf as he chugged from an insulated bottle.
"Ahem!" Oma folded her arms and looked at the black man sternly.
He jumped at her throat clearing sound, his visor flashing with the force of his surprise, then sputtered as he slopped fuel into his intakes. "Ewwww."
"Oh there you are, Dad." A young girl in black with reddish brown accents came over and caught his arm. "Mom's threatening to sing. We need you to run interference."
The explorer blinked at her, and then startled several people in his immediate vicinity with a resounding belch.
"...Never mind. We'll do it ourselves." His daughter turned and wove away through the crowd.
"Wait, Sea Shanty. I'm not... Eeesh." The explorer face palmed and sighed.
Grandfather watched the youngster go, then leaned sideways a little in his chair to try and count something before turning back to his former crew mate. "...Just how many children do you and your wife have? I do not remember that one."
The explorer peeked through his fingers, then blushed slightly and rubbed the back of his head. "Er, well, we've only got five of our own on the crew. Most the others have their own ships."
"Only five of your own?" repeated Grandfather quizzically.
"Yes..."
"How many do you have in all?" asked Oma as Arcturus leaned companionably on the back of Grandfather's chair.
"...Twenty seven."
"...Mercy." Grandfather blinked.
"Yeah, I pray for that all the time," said the explorer ruefully. "And we're due for another one to start any day now."
"Are they so bad?" Oma tilted her head slightly.
"Okay, quick, give her this, and she'll get to the passing out stage before she can get to the singing stage!"
The explorer looked toward the whisper, and then crooked a brow at the dusky ghost.
"Ah. Yes, that does answer my question." She put a hand to her mouth in amusement.
"I could try arresting her," offered Arcturus, his big grin telling just how close he was to laughing.
"Er, no. That's alright. I don't have credit for bail right now." The explorer gave a last sheepish grin, and then slipped away through the crowd to deal with his wife and children.
"How many of the older children are captains?" asked Grandfather, watching him go.
"Oh, all of them," said Arcturus cheerfully.
"So most of the planet's navy field command..."
"Yup."
"I see."
"Oh come on, it's not that bad." Oma shook her head at her husband and laughed. "They could have somehow made their way onto the Council."
Grandfather facepalmed. "Yes, airy one, that does make me feel better."
She laughed and held out a plate she'd snagged from a passing waiter. "Spicy copper?"
* * *
Later, after the party was over and the guests had moved on to whatever they wanted to do next, Grandfather lay on the couch in the living room of the home that he now shared with Silverflame, a seldom seen human child, Oma, and two rowdy but invisible additional ghosts. His arms were around his wife and his cheek rested against her head as she snuggled against his chest, but his eye was on the basket on the coffee table.
"You're tense." Oma moved slightly as she murmured.
"Am I?" He paused to analyze his systems, then looked down at her and gently nuzzled her forehead. "Hrrm. I guess I am."
She sighed as he tightened his embrace, her hands coming up to rest against his chest as she rubbed her cheek against him in reciprocation of affection. "This won't distract me."
"I was hoping it would distract me." He lifted his head and looked toward the basket again, making sure that all was well with the occupant.
"You never told me what Cygna said after Silverflame's last checkup." Oma turned so that she too could see the basket.
"She said what we already know. That Silverflame is alert and healthy, but very behind on such basic functions as walking and talking." Grandfather sighed. "And I worry, though it does not benefit her or myself in any way.
"She enjoyed the party." Oma watched Prowl walk lightly across the coffee table to check on the basket and get a finger wagged at him by Zeta Zelda.
Grandfather rumbled a quiet chuckle as he remembered the look of shock on the artist's face and how hard the man's twin brother had laughed when Silverflame had grabbed his nose. "Yes, and explored with her usual avidity. Her mind seems to be developing new pathways, but those pathways do not seem to be connected to ability."
"You're sad about what she's lost."
"Yes. And my inability to give it back grieves me. She has yet to even vocalize a request for fuel, and most babies are born able to do so." Grandfather winced and straightened one arm. "Ah, I should take an oil bath before I enter sleep mode. Will you assist me so that Silverflame may accompany me?"
"Of course." She laughed as memories of her husband trying to handle an oily, excited baby rose up before her mind's eye. "Remember when you dropped her and we couldn't find her till we'd drained the bath?"
"Ah, I would rather not. That was distressing." Grandfather shook his head, remembering his surprise when enough of the oil had gone down the drain for him and Oma to realize that the reason they hadn't been able to find the baby was because the baby, though unable to walk, was a very proficient swimmer and had been doing so with enthusiastic vigour. Not expecting a moving target, Grandfather hadn't realized that what he'd been picking up with his sonar was what he'd been looking for.
"And embarrassing?" asked Oma, still watching the basket thoughtfully.
"Er. No. I have already raised other babies. I am not sure I could be embarrassed by most of the things they can do." Grandfather chuckled suddenly. "Do you remember when our older son bit that distinguished Council member?"
Oma's hands went to her cheeks. "Yes! I thought that I was going to overload with the shock and mortification. And then the doctor started explaining how babies like to learn about things with all their senses, including taste."
"Do you remember the first day the doctor's own son bit him?"
Oma muffled her laughter with her hands. "Yes. Even his wife laughed at him. I thought he was going to explode from his efforts not to curse."
"I could hear what he was trying to hold back. I had never realized till then how closely he had listened to the weapons master and the others during all the time of the war and the journey through space." Grandfather shook his head with amusement.
"Do you remember the day, back when the battles had just started, that he taught the weapons master a new curse?"
Grandfather went absent for a moment, his focus on digging up ancient files and studying them. And then he chuckled again. "Yes. Yes, I do. The weapons master looked so impressed. I thought the scout was going to damage herself with the force of her laughter at his and the doctor's expense."
Oma laughed softly, then turned her head as Prowl gave a soft yowl. "Oh no. She has his whiskers."
Grandfather shifted as his wife sat up, his gaze once more focused on the basket, where Silverflame was happily kissing the cybercat as she gripped him the sides of his face in her two chubby little hands. "Silverflame, you must not hurt Prowl."
"Here, baby. Let the kitty go, alright? He doesn't want kissies right now." Oma worked to gently loose the infanct grip. "Oh, Prowl. It would be easier to convince her to let go if you weren't still purring."
"He never stops purring," Grandfather reminded her as he carefully pushed himself up to a seated position.
"I know." Oma sighed as she finally freed the cybernetic serval. "There we go. Ohhhh."
Grandfather smiled as Prowl carefully touched his nose to Silverflame's cheek, and then gasped and flashed his eye with shock as a little voice rose up to meet his audio receivers.
"Prowl!" said Silverflame happily. "Prowl!"
At the front of the room, standing to one side of the pulpit where she led discussions every Sunday morning and afternoons, a white and red woman with down turned wings smiled gently at the two people who faced her.
"It took them long enough," grumbled Grandfather softly.
"Shhh." Oma smiled without taking her eyes from the scene at the front. "The pastor's speaking."
"We're gathered here today," said the soft, gentle voice of the winged woman, "To witness the wedding of Jabez and Starforge."
"Kiss the wench!" came a call from the back, where the entire sturdy crew of a salvage ship sat in an uncomfortable state of gleaming polish and dentlessness.
"Shhh!" said someone else, laughing. "It's not time yet."
Up at the front the groom's broad shoulders hunched up nervously, but the white and red pastor never blinked. Serene and content, she continued leading the pair through the marriage ceremony.
"Do you, Jabez, take Starforge as your legally witnessed husband, to have and to hold, to love and protect, through illness and health, war and peace?"
And the soft reply. "I do."
"Do you, Starforge..."
"I am going to sneeze."
Oma reached over and wiped at Grandfather's intakes. "You better not, that's all we need to get the explorer's wife going."
"The pastor's brothers are drunker than she is." Grandfather shut his eye and tried his hardest to shut off sensations from his intakes.
"They..." Oma turned and looked, then face palmed. "Are. How is she standing up so straight?"
"I don't know, but she has always surprised us." Grandfather sighed softly as the ticklish sensation faded, then looked down at the blanket wrapped bundle that he held in his arms. "I just hope that they do not."
"If they try anything I'll let them have it," growled a deep, rough voice from the empty seat next to Oma.
"I knew you were there." Grandfather looked up from the bundle, his mouth twitching as he faced the front.
"It's my son's wedding. I'm allowed."
"You'd have come even if you weren't." A second voice, a lovely alto that was full of laughter. "And you know it, old man."
"The Commander's older than I am, now."
"Shhhh." Oma's eyes twinkled with laughter of her own.
"Fold that cannon away. This isn't the time, or the place," came the female voice a moment later.
"It's still bigger than Starforge's."
"...Did you hear what I said?"
"No..."
Grandfather bowed his head, unable to pinch the bridge of his nose because of his burden. But the twinkle in his eye betrayed his true feelings about the situation, and Oma promptly chuckled and poked him in the side.
"Ack!"
Heads all over the chapel turned to look at him, and smiles bloomed on multiple faces.
"Don't go to sleep, Grandfather," called out some wit. "You'll miss Starforge blushing as he tries to get up the bearings to kiss Jai."
The pastor's serene expression never altered as the groom saluted his heckler, but most of the guests laughed at his subsequent embarrassment.
"You might be able to take the man out of the army, but you can't take the army out of the man," murmured Oma's invisible sister softly. "Old man, you sit still. You're not going to punch the artist in the head."
Angry muttering like some huge dog shut up in a box.
"I now pronounce you a married couple. Seal it with a kiss."
The resultant cheer rattled the stained glass pictures in their frames against the walls, and woke the little sleeper in the bundle.
"Shhh." Grandfather let the baby sit up, then rubbed her back as she looked around with her quizzical, pale blue eyes. His own eye held sadness now as he remembered the girl who had died two years before and who had left this bright, curious infant native in her place. As much as he loved the little one, the ache of missing Sylvia seemed to grow every day.
Unaware of her grandfather's inner turmoil, the baby yawned and cuddled her two dolls, one of toweling and the other of yarn, then rubbed her face on the fuzzy one sleepily as she softly let out little random bits of code that meant nothing.
Oma leaned against her husband's arm as the chapel denizens broke up into cheerful groups who swiftly escorted the bride and groom out of the room and into the larger one next door. "Are you awake now, Silverflame?"
Silverflame looked up alertly, then gave a mighty yawn and drifted back to sleep.
"We'll have to save some treats for her," said Oma softly, her fingers gently smoothing the little head.
"Yes." Grandfather rearranged the blanket, and then passed the baby to his wife before glancing past her. "...I don't hear anything."
"No. They're somewhere in the crowd." Oma put Silverflame up to her shoulder and then slipped out of the pew herself so that she could go for her husband's hover chair.
"Here, Grandma." Arcturus grinned as he pushed the mobility aid up the aisle. "Trade you a cousin for a chair?"
"No trade." Oma laughed and stepped out of the way so that her strapping grandson could help her husband move from seat to seat.
"I always feel embarrassed when I use this device." Grandfather groaned softly as he settled back after the transfer.
"Trust me, Grandpa. It's better than having you knocked over by someone who got drunk before they got here." Arcturus watched as Oma gave Silverflame back to his grandfather, then pushed the chair into the adjoining celebration room.
"Or who are getting drunk now?" Grandfather looked thoughtfully at the explorer, who was tucked neatly behind a potted broadleaf as he chugged from an insulated bottle.
"Ahem!" Oma folded her arms and looked at the black man sternly.
He jumped at her throat clearing sound, his visor flashing with the force of his surprise, then sputtered as he slopped fuel into his intakes. "Ewwww."
"Oh there you are, Dad." A young girl in black with reddish brown accents came over and caught his arm. "Mom's threatening to sing. We need you to run interference."
The explorer blinked at her, and then startled several people in his immediate vicinity with a resounding belch.
"...Never mind. We'll do it ourselves." His daughter turned and wove away through the crowd.
"Wait, Sea Shanty. I'm not... Eeesh." The explorer face palmed and sighed.
Grandfather watched the youngster go, then leaned sideways a little in his chair to try and count something before turning back to his former crew mate. "...Just how many children do you and your wife have? I do not remember that one."
The explorer peeked through his fingers, then blushed slightly and rubbed the back of his head. "Er, well, we've only got five of our own on the crew. Most the others have their own ships."
"Only five of your own?" repeated Grandfather quizzically.
"Yes..."
"How many do you have in all?" asked Oma as Arcturus leaned companionably on the back of Grandfather's chair.
"...Twenty seven."
"...Mercy." Grandfather blinked.
"Yeah, I pray for that all the time," said the explorer ruefully. "And we're due for another one to start any day now."
"Are they so bad?" Oma tilted her head slightly.
"Okay, quick, give her this, and she'll get to the passing out stage before she can get to the singing stage!"
The explorer looked toward the whisper, and then crooked a brow at the dusky ghost.
"Ah. Yes, that does answer my question." She put a hand to her mouth in amusement.
"I could try arresting her," offered Arcturus, his big grin telling just how close he was to laughing.
"Er, no. That's alright. I don't have credit for bail right now." The explorer gave a last sheepish grin, and then slipped away through the crowd to deal with his wife and children.
"How many of the older children are captains?" asked Grandfather, watching him go.
"Oh, all of them," said Arcturus cheerfully.
"So most of the planet's navy field command..."
"Yup."
"I see."
"Oh come on, it's not that bad." Oma shook her head at her husband and laughed. "They could have somehow made their way onto the Council."
Grandfather facepalmed. "Yes, airy one, that does make me feel better."
She laughed and held out a plate she'd snagged from a passing waiter. "Spicy copper?"
* * *
Later, after the party was over and the guests had moved on to whatever they wanted to do next, Grandfather lay on the couch in the living room of the home that he now shared with Silverflame, a seldom seen human child, Oma, and two rowdy but invisible additional ghosts. His arms were around his wife and his cheek rested against her head as she snuggled against his chest, but his eye was on the basket on the coffee table.
"You're tense." Oma moved slightly as she murmured.
"Am I?" He paused to analyze his systems, then looked down at her and gently nuzzled her forehead. "Hrrm. I guess I am."
She sighed as he tightened his embrace, her hands coming up to rest against his chest as she rubbed her cheek against him in reciprocation of affection. "This won't distract me."
"I was hoping it would distract me." He lifted his head and looked toward the basket again, making sure that all was well with the occupant.
"You never told me what Cygna said after Silverflame's last checkup." Oma turned so that she too could see the basket.
"She said what we already know. That Silverflame is alert and healthy, but very behind on such basic functions as walking and talking." Grandfather sighed. "And I worry, though it does not benefit her or myself in any way.
"She enjoyed the party." Oma watched Prowl walk lightly across the coffee table to check on the basket and get a finger wagged at him by Zeta Zelda.
Grandfather rumbled a quiet chuckle as he remembered the look of shock on the artist's face and how hard the man's twin brother had laughed when Silverflame had grabbed his nose. "Yes, and explored with her usual avidity. Her mind seems to be developing new pathways, but those pathways do not seem to be connected to ability."
"You're sad about what she's lost."
"Yes. And my inability to give it back grieves me. She has yet to even vocalize a request for fuel, and most babies are born able to do so." Grandfather winced and straightened one arm. "Ah, I should take an oil bath before I enter sleep mode. Will you assist me so that Silverflame may accompany me?"
"Of course." She laughed as memories of her husband trying to handle an oily, excited baby rose up before her mind's eye. "Remember when you dropped her and we couldn't find her till we'd drained the bath?"
"Ah, I would rather not. That was distressing." Grandfather shook his head, remembering his surprise when enough of the oil had gone down the drain for him and Oma to realize that the reason they hadn't been able to find the baby was because the baby, though unable to walk, was a very proficient swimmer and had been doing so with enthusiastic vigour. Not expecting a moving target, Grandfather hadn't realized that what he'd been picking up with his sonar was what he'd been looking for.
"And embarrassing?" asked Oma, still watching the basket thoughtfully.
"Er. No. I have already raised other babies. I am not sure I could be embarrassed by most of the things they can do." Grandfather chuckled suddenly. "Do you remember when our older son bit that distinguished Council member?"
Oma's hands went to her cheeks. "Yes! I thought that I was going to overload with the shock and mortification. And then the doctor started explaining how babies like to learn about things with all their senses, including taste."
"Do you remember the first day the doctor's own son bit him?"
Oma muffled her laughter with her hands. "Yes. Even his wife laughed at him. I thought he was going to explode from his efforts not to curse."
"I could hear what he was trying to hold back. I had never realized till then how closely he had listened to the weapons master and the others during all the time of the war and the journey through space." Grandfather shook his head with amusement.
"Do you remember the day, back when the battles had just started, that he taught the weapons master a new curse?"
Grandfather went absent for a moment, his focus on digging up ancient files and studying them. And then he chuckled again. "Yes. Yes, I do. The weapons master looked so impressed. I thought the scout was going to damage herself with the force of her laughter at his and the doctor's expense."
Oma laughed softly, then turned her head as Prowl gave a soft yowl. "Oh no. She has his whiskers."
Grandfather shifted as his wife sat up, his gaze once more focused on the basket, where Silverflame was happily kissing the cybercat as she gripped him the sides of his face in her two chubby little hands. "Silverflame, you must not hurt Prowl."
"Here, baby. Let the kitty go, alright? He doesn't want kissies right now." Oma worked to gently loose the infanct grip. "Oh, Prowl. It would be easier to convince her to let go if you weren't still purring."
"He never stops purring," Grandfather reminded her as he carefully pushed himself up to a seated position.
"I know." Oma sighed as she finally freed the cybernetic serval. "There we go. Ohhhh."
Grandfather smiled as Prowl carefully touched his nose to Silverflame's cheek, and then gasped and flashed his eye with shock as a little voice rose up to meet his audio receivers.
"Prowl!" said Silverflame happily. "Prowl!"