Halloween: Ondry/Liam , Takil (Patreon)

I have been set back by a chest cold.  The chest cold plus the valley fever has set me back to a place where my chest aches when I try to breath. I'm tempted to stop trying to breathe.  Anyway, I'm still struggling with the next chapter of Max and Rick, but another couple pushed in.  I've wanted to write this for a couple of weeks, and I thought when Halloween passed, this bunny would go away.  It didn't. Are you ready to meet the half-grown manling that Ondry and Liam have been raising?

“What is the point of these identity-hiders?” Takil said as he watched the trick-or-treaters out of the corner of his eyes. 

“Do not judge,” Ondry said. The base of his tail thickened, as if he was trying his best to avoid twitching his tail at his son.  Liam bit the inside of his cheek to avoid smiling. Takil was getting old enough now that he didn’t appreciate any sign that his parents were amused at his expense. The fifth was such a sensitive decade.

“They are taking place in a cultural custom,” Liam said blandly. He’d loved trick or treating as a kid, but he had to admit that he didn’t quite understand it now. Then again, he didn’t understand huge chunks of human culture, so he wasn’t surprised.

“What is the function?”

“To get candy.”

Takil watched from the patio of their cafe as a group of children ran up to a shop and held out their bags. Childlike voices cried out “Trick or treat,” and a waiter dropped candy in each bag while talking to the children about their costumes.

“He gives them treats.” Takil’s emphasis on ‘give’ and his disgust made it perfectly clear that he disapproved, but then he was coming to the age when he would rather steal for himself. He was a mini-Ondry, not that Takil would appreciate that comparison.

Ondry was going to strain his tail trying to avoid twitching it in aggravation, but then Takil was not particularly well behaved tonight. This was the first time they’d gone out into the town using the holiday and the deeply shadowed patio to watch without the military escort that usually followed them when they were on a human-owned world.

“That is their culture,” Liam said mildly, but Takil must have heard the censure in Liam’s voice because he paled and hunched his shoulders. Guilt made Liam want to take the words back, but Takil needed to be more respectful. If he was going to make a name as a trader with multiple species, he needed to respect all of them. And Takil was not the most respectful Rownt to ever fall out of an egg. It made Liam wonder if Ondry had been the same. Probably. After all, he admitted that he had been horribly forward and had trespassed on other’s territory to introduce himself—a sin only a child would be forgiven. But they were ship traders. They couldn’t afford to have Takil insult their trading partners. Humans wouldn’t dismiss a fifty-six year old’s disrespect as a child antics.

Sometimes Liam wondered if they had gone back to trading too soon.

“What is the source of the tradition?” Ondry asked. 

Softy. Every time Takil pushed too far, Ondry would distract from their son’s lack of tact. Liam raised an eyebrow to let his chilta know that the redirection had not gone unnoticed. “I’m not sure,” Liam confessed. “There are a few traditions that suggest that this time of year the line between the living and the dead thins so that the dead can find their way back.”

“Human dead or can we meet Rownt dead, too?” Takil asked with perfect seriousness.

“The story is no different than when the Grandmothers call out to the gods,” Ondry said. “One can reject belief while still holding to the trappings of the old faith.”

“The way Liam holds to the trappings of humanity when we trade with humans?” Takil asked. Liam was in the middle of drinking and managed to swallow a mouthful of air, which got caught in his throat.

“Do not speak of Liam with disrespect,” Ondry said, and this time his tail slipped free of his leg and slapped the table leg.

Liam put a hand on Ondry’s arm. “He is not wrong,” Liam said. Every time they came back to human space, Liam felt less and less connected to the species of his birth. But he could imagine that Ondry’s bad reaction came from Takil’s suggestion that Liam was faking some emotion for the sake of trade. Tuk-ranked traders never manipulated their partners. Any metaphorical stabbings took place in the front, not the back.

Ondry’s tail slapped the table leg again. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to break it, which would also leave a poor impression.

“I do not put on the trappings of humanity,” Liam said. “I still appreciate many parts of my first people. My brother was a good man and a great programmer, and I still have fondness for his descendants. Humans are creative and admirable in many ways, so any kindness I show humanity is because I like them.” Liam hadn’t thought about it, but he realized he had let go of most of the anger that had once ruled him. He could still say that Mort had been a sadistic asshole and the whole Colony War had been the height of stupidity on all sides. However, he also admired many humans and he liked seeing Luke grow into a confident and ethical man. And watching him grow into a human version of a Tuk-ranked individual capable of challenging temples—he had loved that.

“But Rownt are better,” Takil said in an unhappy tone that made him sound about twenty.

The skin around Ondry’s eyes tightened and his tail relaxed. “Humans must be superior if they produced Liam.”

Liam smiled. “You’re biased.”

“In favor of you? Always,” Ondry said. He brought his hand up and rested it on Liam’s. They sat in the shadows, leaning closer together for infinite seconds. And then Takil loudly asked, “Can I steal treats?”

At the same time, Ondry and Liam firmly said, “No.”