Amryi and Takil--prompt story (Patreon)

Holly asked for:

Amyri at work as chef and food server on the Rownt ship, settling into his relationship with Takil.

And Evelyn St. asked for:

I would love to see more about Takil and Amyri. We don‘t know much about their relationship, how it progresses, where it might lead

So here is a bit of Takil and Amryi after they agree to be chilta and palteia

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Amryi searched for a quiet spot where he could turn on his holo-vid without an audience. He appreciated that the Rownt offered the illusion of privacy, but from the conversations he had had with Takil, it was very clear that they were just illusions. In fact, information seemed to be the primary commodity of food servers. That would bother Amryi only Takil would serve the food and handle the guests. Amryi was used to that sort of partnership.

Sometimes he felt a little guilty about replacing his brother’s spot in his life. It felt like a betrayal both of his brother and Takil. Takil wasn’t Qii.

If Takil were older, Amryi would have refused to even entertain his courtship, but the thirty or fourty years that Amryi had left in life would be nothing against the lifespan of a Rownt, and the remainder of Takil’s life would be improved by his relationship with a palteia.

Hopefully.

Sometimes Takil avoided sharing information or simply didn’t understand the depths of Amryi’s ignorance, and the government expert of Rownt culture who had come around after Takil had requested a travel visa on his behalf had offered a skewed perspective. However, both agreed that Rownt adults could only have a close bond with a plateia. That had been the information that caused Amryi to agree to Takil’s request for a partnership. Amryi could understand the pain of being denied companionship.  Sometimes he felt like his own cultures, both his American culture and his Muslim one, punished him for being asexual by suggesting that intimate relationships only existed where the basis of the bond was sex. All other relationships were to be considered secondary.

That’s just not how Amryi saw life.

His brother had understood, but no one else did. That was the crux of the conversation that he needed privacy for.

Behind the main dining hall was a service area where food servers could store and prepare bulk food items and Amryi headed to the private space Takil had rented for them. It seemed much larger than most of these private spaces, and Amryi worried about rental costs, but Takil insisted that every prep space carried the same rent regardless of size. No doubt that was culturally important in some way, and another day and he would ask about it, but today he had a very awkward call to survive.

Foolishly, he had expected to be able to set up his new food service area in the Rownt ship before his sister-in-law called. But that was not to be. And he could not avoid the call for long. He had too many vendors who were returning calls, so he could not turn off his phone and the constant notifications of an urgent message were destroying his concentration. Rownt food was a challenge he enjoyed, but he could not afford for his focus to be less than a hundred percent.

He closed the door behind him before setting his phone on a flat table and triggering the hologram. Unsurprisingly, his sister-in-law answered immediately. She had tiny lines on the corners of her mouth and twin furrows that defined the inner boundry of her eyebrows, but he could still see the shadow of the girl his brother had once brought home. She had been so beautiful, and Qii had been so excited when Jendayi had agreed to his marriage proposal.

Back then, Amryi had thought that life would be perfect. Qii insisted Amryi would stay with them permanently, and when Jendayi had first joined their family, all had seemed well. She was shy and quiet, but Qii would make a joke, and she would get a secret smile that only Qii and Amryi were allowed to see. He'd felt like she was sharing some part of herself that she did not share with outsiders, and that made Amryi believe that the three of them would be family. Forever.

Once she had her first child, a boy, she'd gotten much more aggressive about demanding boundaries. She had insisted that their condo be refurbished so that Amryi had his own entrance so that he would no longer be in the family’s shared space. When the third child came, she had tried to insist Amryi leave. She wanted the room for their growing family, and Qii had said that the children could double up and if she felt that was inappropriate, then she could stop having children.

Amryi still remembered the screaming match that he could hear through the wall. He had offered to leave to make the relationship easier, and Qii had grabbed his hands and told him that they would always be together. He’d said that pregnancy hormones were making Jendaryi crazy, and she had made a dozen impossible requests that week alone. Amryi had lied to himself when he’d believed his brother. Qii had always been too much the optimist.

Looking at the hatred in Jendayi’s eyes, he knew that the only bond they would have or have would be one of jealousy and rage. She had married assuming that she would be the one who controlled the household. She had wanted to be the center of Qii’s life, and maybe she had that right. Maybe Amryi should have left long ago. It was too late to correct that error. “What do you want?” he asked.

Her scowl grew deeper. “Why aren’t you at the bar? Richard said that you're not answering his calls.”

Amryi had been naïve to assume this would end any other way. “I sent you a notice two weeks ago. I cannot continue working at the club.”

Her eyebrows drew down into a strained expression of grief. She'd learned early in the marriage that tears were far more likely to win her concession. Both Amryi and Qii reacted very poorly to other people's anger, especially when it was unjustified. Their own father had been less than reasonable, and that had left scars. But tears would sometimes win her concessions. Unfortunately for her, and Amryi was no longer in a position to offer concessions.

“Richard only knows how to run the books. He can’t handle the kitchen. What is he supposed to do?” Her lip quivered. However, for all of her facial gymnastics, no tears appeared.

“That is why I gave you two week’s warning to hire someone. At this point that is not a concern that I can deal with.”

Her mouth puckered in anger, the tiny holographic figure radiating fury. “You promised Qii that you would take care of me. How am I supposed to feed the children? How am I supposed to run a household without a man?”

Amryi stomped on a whisper of guilt. “You have the insurance money. You have the bar. If you have a family that is financially well-off.” Her family had originally financed the bar as part of her dowry, so as much as it hurt Amryi to walk away from a business he had helped build from the ground, he supposed it was only right that it go back to her family. “Maybe one of your brothers can run the bar for you.”

She blanched. “I left that family and joined your family. And now with my husband dead, you're going to abandon me? I know we’ve argued, but we can reach a compromise on this.”

Amryi suspected they couldn't. He had stood in front of the enormous Grandmothers in that temple and agreed to accept Takil as his chilta. He was almost sure that was a marriage, and one that would require more than a trip to the courthouse to dissolve. Takil had described the relationship in terms of his own obligation to prevent Amryi’s grief from causing lasting harm, but sometimes Takil did explain poorly. He might be more than a century old, but he was not a seasoned trader like his parents. He reminded Amryi of both himself and Qii when they'd been young and too foolish to understand that life did not always work out well. Sooner or later, disappointment would stain Takil the way it did everyone else, but Amryi would not be part of that process. He would never leave Takil in order to make this woman who had rejected him happy.

“You forced me to leave my home so that I would have to pay rent somewhere else and then you took away my salary so that the only money I had was an owner's share of the profits from the business. That wasn't enough to pay for rent. Of course I had to look elsewhere.”

“I needed the money for the children. Would you deny your nieces and nephews a good life?” She demanded. Given that she was still pulling profits from the bar and she had his brother’s life insurance money, she had more money than ever. But then, she had never hidden the fact that she believed that Qii should provide more. Her children should have fancier clothes and go to more exclusive private schools. No doubt that's why she had taken his salary away. He wondered whether it made it better that she was spending the money on the children as opposed to buying herself fancy jewelry. In the end, she had stripped him of his home and the business he loved when he was still dealing with the grief of losing his brother. Nothing mitigated his anger about that.

“Come back for two weeks, and I’ll try to hire someone else,” she said, dabbing the corner of her eye with a handkerchief. Takil recognize this tactic. Delay. She'd always favored that one.

He crossed his arms. “No.”

“Do you not care about your niece and your nephews at all?”

“Yes, but I have no ability to help them.”

She clenched the handkerchief in a fist that she brought down on whatever table she had put her phone on. The holographic image shook with the force of it. “How dare you do this to me. I lost my husband. I am trying to deal with the grief and deal with children who are missing their father and you put this on me.”

Amryi leaned forward. “I just lost my brother, so you’re a fucking hypocrite if you think I have an obligation to hold your hand after you kicked me out of the home I lived in for thirty years.”

She sat bolt upright, her fury clear in even the small holographic image. “It's not the same. I lost a sister, and I know it hurts. But that is not the same as losing a spouse and you will never understand that.”

Amryi's heart froze. He turned off the phone and blocked her number. That was the crux of their conflict. She had never believed that he loved with the same fervor as a spouse because for her true love and sex were inexorably linked. For her, his relationship would always be less because it wasn't one based on rolling around in the sheets and sticking genitals in each other's holes.

That's how she judged the quality of love.

Amryi's chest ached with the pain of it all. Behind him, the door clicked and Takil in the opening. Amryi didn't say anything, but somehow Takil recognized the grief because in two short steps he closed the distance and enfolded Amryi in an embrace.

Amryi held out for two minutes.

For three.

His anger and pain were ridiculous. He was a grown-ass man who was going to have his sixtieth birthday next year. He didn’t need anyone. He told himself that as firmly as he could, and his resolve lasted until Takil's long fingers ran through his hair with the gentleness of a mother's gesture. And then the dam broke. Amryi had a reputation for emotionally shredding anyone who got in his way with words that were sharp enough to dissect a soul, and he sobbed as he held Takil's strong arms. Takil tightened his hold and stroked Amryi's hair and waited as Amryi struggled to catch his breath.

“I miss my brother,” Amryi whispered, the of that truth was acid in his bones.

“And you always will,” Takil answered. There were no qualms, no qualifiers, no suggestions that everyone suffered the loss of family. Just simple words of acceptance.

That did not help Amryi get control of his raging emotions. His face felt hot, and tears ran down his cheeks. “I should have better control over this,” Amryi said in way of an apology.

“You loved him. I know that does not mean the same for humans as it does for Rownt, and my human parent always warned me to avoid direct translation of emotion words, but I see how he uses the word and I see how you feel, and I know the depth with which you feel love. Qii’s death does not end that.” Amiri took a shuddering breath before he looked around at their space. I should grind some kaile root. The spice was expensive, and they could save money by preparing the raw ingredients. As a bonus, the spice would be far fresher and more potent.

“If you need kaile, I can grind it. If you need to do the grinding, I can sit here with you while you do it. Which would you prefer?” Takil asked the question in such a matter-of-fact manner. He showed no interest in escaping Amryi’s bad mood or his irrational grief. And he certainly didn’t try to tell Amryi what to do. This is not what Amryi had assumed about the Rownt who, almost a decade ago, had shown up at the club to play with submissives.

Amryi ran his hand over Takil's arm. “Maybe you could just be here with me.”

Takil gave a very human nod and the skin around his eyes tightened before he reached over and turned Amryi's phone over so that the notification center was no longer showing. “I can do that.”

Amryi expected Takil to get out his own work. After all, he would have just as much if not more work to do than Amryi. Amryi would provide the food, but Takil was going to have to learn to handle the more nuanced aspects of trading the information Amryi earned for them. Instead, Takil just continued to hold Amryi.

Amryi didn't grind the kaile, and Takil didn't pull out his information pad and they both sat wrapped in one another. As the fresh wave of grief released its hold, Amryi rested his head against Takil’s shoulder, shamelessly taking comfort in a way he hadn’t for years. When his relationship with Qii had endangered his brother’s marriage, he had tried taking less of his brother’s time and affection. Now, with Takil’s arms around him, he remembered their shared tears as they had survived the deaths of first their father and then their mother. He remembered Qii’s grief when he had failed to earn the scholarships he’d needed for the college of his dreams. He remembered the way they used to watch movies together, sharing a popcorn bowl and leaning their shoulders against one another.

He mourned the brother who had died and the relationship that had been starving long before a heart attack had stolen Qii away. The automatic lighting slowly dimmed as their lack of movement confused the computer into thinking the room was unused, and Takil continued to hold him.