A Final Goodbye (G)
Mar. 1st, 2007 07:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skidmo_ficTitle: A Final Goodbye
Rating: G
Pairing: Lorne/Zelenka
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Angst, Character death (mention of, not description)
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me...sadly
Feedback: yes, please.
Summary: Evan says his last goodbye.
Author’s Notes: written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
slashing_lorne February challenge, prompt: Lasting Love. This is the last piece in my Loves Lost and Found series. Unless the muse strikes at a later date and I feel the need to fill in some gaps. :)
Evan stepped out onto the balcony, ignoring the bitter wind that sliced at his skin, stinging his eyes, and giving him an excuse for the tears he could feel gathering. The view from this balcony was unique in Atlantis. All the others looked out to the sea, and the rhythmic pounding of the waves filled the air. This balcony looked out on the silent city, the central tower rising like a cathedral spire into the ink-black Atlantean night.
Radek had always preferred this balcony to the others. Perhaps because, even after all his years on Atlantis, he was still frightened of the ocean. Perhaps because the city itself appealed to his engineering side much more than the natural beauty of the sea.
Or perhaps because it was the balcony that connected to the conservatory where he and Evan had made amends after their first fight.
They had kept the conservatory mostly to themselves. Evan had mentioned it in his weekly report to Sheppard but had declared it useless as a lab and of no strategic value, so it had become their refuge. They’d made very few improvements to it since that first night, merely adding a few pillows and blankets in their younger days and a sofa when they grew too old to be comfortable sitting on the ground watching the sun set behind the cityscape, casting the dramatic architecture in a stark silhouette against the vivid oranges and reds of the fading light.
Evan recalled many nights spent standing at the rail of the balcony, arms wrapped around his husband as they allowed the peace of evening to drain the tension from their minds.
Sometimes, Radek would ask him about the city. Several years after the separation from Earth, the natural gene carriers had begun to describe a change in the city. It was like she was speaking to them. Or like they could feel her in their blood. (Though from the look in Sheppard’s eyes when Evan had first described it to him, Lorne thought that it was nothing new to the colonel.) Radek, on whom even the fourth generation of gene-therapy had been unsuccessful, had loved to hear Evan tell him what it was like to hear the city humming around him all day, to feel her embrace at night, to hear her whispered almost-words of comfort and safety and love. It was the one thing Evan could never truly share with Radek, and that had always bothered him a little, though Radek had not seemed to mind.
He leaned one last time against the railing, looking up at the familiar sky and marveling that it had ever seemed alien to him. He and Radek had once lamented the absence of familiar constellations: Orion, Ursa Major, Cassiopeia. But eventually, they had discovered new ones, named for Ancient heroes (Sheppard had nixed Hippaforalkus, but had allowed them to keep Chaya) as well as Earth ones.
Looking up into the night sky, Evan found the group they had named Shernia and Procthus, for a couple in an Ancient myth (because for all their enlightenment, even the Ancients had myths) who had sacrificed themselves together to save a village from Wraith attack. He counted out each star, as he had done countless times before with Radek at his side, then opened the clay container he had carried with him and tossed its contents into the cold wind. He watched them scatter as well as he could in the darkness, then turned and exited the balcony, leaving the sofa, pillows and blankets for the next generation of lovers. Without a backward glance, he left the room, pausing for a moment at the door to say, “Na shledanou, Radeček. Miluji te.”
fin
Czech in the story:
Na shledanou - Goodbye
Radeček - diminutive of Radek
Miluji te - I love you
I got the translations from a website that, frankly, seemed more than a little dodgy. If you speak Czech and have a better translation, please let me know :).
Links to the rest of this series can be found here.
Rating: G
Pairing: Lorne/Zelenka
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Angst, Character death (mention of, not description)
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me...sadly
Feedback: yes, please.
Summary: Evan says his last goodbye.
Author’s Notes: written for the
slashing_lorne February challenge, prompt: Lasting Love. This is the last piece in my Loves Lost and Found series. Unless the muse strikes at a later date and I feel the need to fill in some gaps. :)Evan stepped out onto the balcony, ignoring the bitter wind that sliced at his skin, stinging his eyes, and giving him an excuse for the tears he could feel gathering. The view from this balcony was unique in Atlantis. All the others looked out to the sea, and the rhythmic pounding of the waves filled the air. This balcony looked out on the silent city, the central tower rising like a cathedral spire into the ink-black Atlantean night.
Radek had always preferred this balcony to the others. Perhaps because, even after all his years on Atlantis, he was still frightened of the ocean. Perhaps because the city itself appealed to his engineering side much more than the natural beauty of the sea.
Or perhaps because it was the balcony that connected to the conservatory where he and Evan had made amends after their first fight.
They had kept the conservatory mostly to themselves. Evan had mentioned it in his weekly report to Sheppard but had declared it useless as a lab and of no strategic value, so it had become their refuge. They’d made very few improvements to it since that first night, merely adding a few pillows and blankets in their younger days and a sofa when they grew too old to be comfortable sitting on the ground watching the sun set behind the cityscape, casting the dramatic architecture in a stark silhouette against the vivid oranges and reds of the fading light.
Evan recalled many nights spent standing at the rail of the balcony, arms wrapped around his husband as they allowed the peace of evening to drain the tension from their minds.
Sometimes, Radek would ask him about the city. Several years after the separation from Earth, the natural gene carriers had begun to describe a change in the city. It was like she was speaking to them. Or like they could feel her in their blood. (Though from the look in Sheppard’s eyes when Evan had first described it to him, Lorne thought that it was nothing new to the colonel.) Radek, on whom even the fourth generation of gene-therapy had been unsuccessful, had loved to hear Evan tell him what it was like to hear the city humming around him all day, to feel her embrace at night, to hear her whispered almost-words of comfort and safety and love. It was the one thing Evan could never truly share with Radek, and that had always bothered him a little, though Radek had not seemed to mind.
He leaned one last time against the railing, looking up at the familiar sky and marveling that it had ever seemed alien to him. He and Radek had once lamented the absence of familiar constellations: Orion, Ursa Major, Cassiopeia. But eventually, they had discovered new ones, named for Ancient heroes (Sheppard had nixed Hippaforalkus, but had allowed them to keep Chaya) as well as Earth ones.
Looking up into the night sky, Evan found the group they had named Shernia and Procthus, for a couple in an Ancient myth (because for all their enlightenment, even the Ancients had myths) who had sacrificed themselves together to save a village from Wraith attack. He counted out each star, as he had done countless times before with Radek at his side, then opened the clay container he had carried with him and tossed its contents into the cold wind. He watched them scatter as well as he could in the darkness, then turned and exited the balcony, leaving the sofa, pillows and blankets for the next generation of lovers. Without a backward glance, he left the room, pausing for a moment at the door to say, “Na shledanou, Radeček. Miluji te.”
fin
Czech in the story:
Na shledanou - Goodbye
Radeček - diminutive of Radek
Miluji te - I love you
I got the translations from a website that, frankly, seemed more than a little dodgy. If you speak Czech and have a better translation, please let me know :).
Links to the rest of this series can be found here.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-03-03 05:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-03 11:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-24 12:59 am (UTC)Anyhoo, I love the relationship you build in this mini-series, how real it feels, and this last chapter in particular packs an emotional wallop. I have a weakness for unusual pairings in SGA, and Lorne and Zelenka is one of my favourites. Thank you for writing this, and for sharing :)