The journey itself, is freedom
by Ainzfern
16
Tahna had to admit, and with quite genuine sincerity, that it had literally only taken five minutes after entering the grand function hall at Partia for him to recall exactly why he hated attending any event that he, personally, hadn't organized. It wasn't the music, or the food, nor was it the graceful decorations in the hall or the obligatory high-end dress code.
It was the guest list.
There were very few people in Amoian Elite society that Tahna could tolerate with any level of equanimity and, sadly, hardly any of them were here tonight. Oh, he could smile and swap small talk until the proverbial cows came home regardless of what social circle he had strolled into...
It was staying awake through the interminable boredom of that which was the problem.
Having completed the obligatory general greeting circuit of the room, Tahna had gladly accepted a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and was now casually strolling the outskirts of the hall with the air of a hunting feline looking to pick off the first young and tender prey unwise enough to stray too far from the herd. His splendid eyes coldly scanned each Elite that passed through his field of vision, his formidable mind cataloguing them into distinct lists of 'suitable', 'incompatible' and 'on a cold day in hell'.
The difficulty was that Tahna was not just looking for a potential secondee to fill his role in a generically competent way. He was looking for someone who would do the job with as much passion and precision as he always had. He was looking for an Elite with a desire to succeed. His conscience could not tolerate the idea of handing his beloved department over into the hands of anyone who was not prepared to give it their all. He supposed what he really needed was to find an Elite who had something to prove. That was always a powerful motivator.
He was fairly confident he would find at least one here who fit that criterion. Elites, as a general rule, always seemed to have something to prove.
As he passed the half-way point of the hall's length Tahna's sharp gaze was drawn to Iason Mink, standing tall and ridiculously beautiful in a glacial way, next to his rather fetching mongrel Companion on the slightly raised dais reserved for the Syndicate leader and any visiting dignitaries. Upon Tahna's arrival, Iason had been deep in conversation with Raoul Am, whose close grip upon his own clever little mongrel was nigh neurotic, although Tahna could clearly see the redhead wasn't exactly complaining. Still, the tableau itself was enough to make Tahna cringe and avoid them utterly. Following his unwilling part in assisting with the rescue of Raoul's mate, and his subsequent involvement with 'their' Chey Neeson, whom they all positively adored to death, he had found the quartet's attitude towards him had acquired an admittedly strained measure of civility.
Except for Raoul, of course, who had remained refreshingly disagreeable towards him.
Which was somewhat of a comfort, Tahna had to confess. The idea that Iason Mink's little 'happy-family' social set was attempting to adopt him was just too awful to contemplate. Chey could have them. Quite frankly, the cloying affection that they all had for each other was tantamount to ingesting an emetic as far as Tahna was concerned.
But looking over to the dais now, Tahna could see that Raoul and his redhead had moved on elsewhere, and Iason's pale eyes were now scanning the hall carefully, noting faces and interactions, even as he talked with his Companion, his mildly cold and remote expression oddly incongruous with the gentle hand which almost unconsciously seemed to seek contact with the curve of his mate's back or shoulder.
Shaking his head and huffing a sardonic little chuckle, Tahna dismissed his absurdly besotted Leader from his attention and turned to face the centre of the hall, his curiosity immediately piqued by a number of Elites clustered in the very centre of the polished floor. It was an interesting sight – that much was certain; the elements of the group's make-up, and the fact that its members were not dispersing to socialize across the function hall, being two of the most telling things about it.
Interesting.
Tahna's beautiful eyes narrowed shrewdly. The group standing around Kyle Li were all Blondies and Platinas of course – with Kyle being even more of a accomplished snob than Tahna in some ways, and preferring to maintain social interactions with those castes only; and there was a certain visible attitude apparent to Tahna that indicated quite clearly that the group was discussing more than just general social niceties. There was some serious gossip happening over there.
With a slow smile curving his full mouth, Tahna took a leisurely sip of his champagne and began to stroll his way over. As he closed in on the circle of Elites, the tail-end of Kyle's current commentary came clearly to his ears.
"... almost pitiful, really," Kyle shook his head sadly as Tahna drew close and neatly insinuated himself into the gathering. "He was a man with genuine potential, even for a Sapphire," Kyle continued, glancing up and acknowledging Tahna with an urbane dip of his pale blond head. "Alas, I simply had to dismiss him. Laron Tak was becoming far too obsessed with his little Pet—" the Blondie smirked sharply, "excuse me, I meant Companion, of course, to pay sufficient attention to his role in the department."
A couple of low purring chuckles from the assembled Blondies and Platinas followed Kyle's remark.
One of Tahna's elegant brows twitched doubtfully as he considered what he'd heard.
Laron Tak, hmm?
Also interesting.
Tahna himself had, in fact, had a previous confrontation with the Sapphire Elite in the past, during one of his sumptuous hosted dinners for selected benefactors of the Midas art galleries. For all that Laron was softly spoken and carried himself with a pure kind of massive dignity; he had always struck Tahna as vastly intelligent with an iron-solid resolve.
He had also struck Tahna full in the face with a bowl of salad, but that was another matter entirely.
And, Tahna mused as he continued to observe Kyle Li holding court, Laron had never seemed to Tahna to be the type of man who would cease to pay due attention to any of his duties, no matter what the incentive or distraction. Indeed, the idea that the Elite now had a Companion – in essence, a familial household to support – would most likely be an effective foil to increase Laron's drive and aspirations. In fact, Tahna recalled quite clearly that Laron's desire to excel in his career had been one of the main impressions from that evening that had stayed with him.
That and the lingering scent of vinaigrette...
No... Laron had not been dismissed. He had resigned. Tahna was quite certain of that, no matter what slant Kyle Li might put on it.
Tahna also knew Kyle well enough to know of the Blondie's very clear opinions of the value – or lack thereof – of Pets. For goodness sake, the man discarded and replaced his own as often as he changed his socks.
As a matter of fact... Tahna's eyes narrowed again, this time with latent dislike, Kyle had actually been uncivil enough to once criticize Tahna for allowing emotion to interfere with judgment regarding Tahna's own little Pets, Tei and Elle; questioning Tahna's decision not to replace them after so many years.
The man obviously did not understand the meaning of 'quality over quantity'...
The more he thought about it, Tahna continued to ponder as he sipped his champagne again, the more convinced he was that Kyle had said, or indeed done, something that had grated upon Laron's well-concealed obstinate streak badly enough to make him quit. Tahna could imagine that Kyle would not have expected that. More likely the Blondie would have assumed that Laron would just take his medicine and return to his duties.
Clearly, Kyle's perfect nose was out of joint because that hadn't happened. And now, in a social setting with other well-placed Elites, Kyle was clearly doing his best to sabotage Laron's character to the point where no other department would want him.
Tahna's beautiful violet gaze turned positively flinty.
It would almost be an admirable tactic if it weren't so baselessly disgraceful, he thought sourly.
Of all the nerve... Putting down his brother Elites in public like that.
That was Tahna's job.
Oblivious to the internal thought processes of the latest addition to his audience, Kyle turned to Tahna, dipping his head once more with exquisite courtesy. "Good evening, Sir Tahna."
Tahna bowed his head in return, his eyes sparkling almost wickedly. "Sir Kyle," he murmured.
Kyle smiled slightly. "We were just discussing poor Laron's situation."
"So I gathered."
"Hmm," Kyle's pale eyes flicked over Tahna's elegant appearance, a slight shade of approval reflecting from his pale gaze. "I'm actually rather interested to hear your opinion on the matter."
Tahna took another sip from his glass, his flawless face artfully bland.
Oh yes, he was sure Kyle wanted Tahna's opinion to be voiced, simply because Kyle was obviously certain that Tahna's opinion would be the same as his own.
Well... Tahna would just have to see about that, wouldn't he?
"Oh really?" Tahna arched an elegant brow, his eyes widening innocently.
"Yes," Kyle's admittedly beautiful smile grew glacial, a touch of malevolence entering his striking eyes. "Don't you think that Laron's sentimental and overly romanticized desire to award the concept of intelligence where such a thing could not possibly exist, to upgrade a genetically engineered Pet to the level of a life-Companion, smells strongly of desperation?"
Tahna smiled back at him, delicately placing his emptied champagne glass on a passing waiter's tray. "Actually Kyle," he literally purred the words, quite deliberately omitting the honorific of 'Sir' while he was at it, "ironically enough, I've always rather thought your utter inability to retain the same Pet for more than six months at a time positively reeked of the same thing."
To Tahna's absolute amusement, the silence that clanged into place following that remark was well-nigh deafening. The Elites gathered around Kyle suddenly appeared to find the floor incredibly interesting. Or the walls. Or anything, really, besides Kyle Li's face. The Blondie's expression had frozen. His eyes flashed with outraged fury, but he retained his composure.
Just.
And it was costing him a lot of effort, Tahna noted smugly.
"One could even call it imprudent. I mean, what could you possibly be searching for?" Tahna added into the stunned silence, just for good measure. "But nevertheless, I must admit, I've always rather admired your ability to successfully run your department while still spending the greater part of your time browsing for new Pets at the Mistral auctions."
Kyle made a strangled little sound in the back of his throat.
Tahna arched a sardonic brow and bowed his head once more. Smoothly snagging a full glass of champagne from another passing waiter, he smiled urbanely – outwardly poised, inwardly rolling around on the floor laughing his beautiful blonde head off.
He honestly hadn't had this much fun since Chey's last visit.
"Well..." he saluted the pole-axed clutch of Elites with his glass. "I believe I shall take a moment to enjoy a little fresh air. I'm afraid the atmosphere in the hall had become a little... stuffy... for my tastes."
Several sets of splendid Elite eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Gentlemen," Tahna murmured by way of farewell, bowing once more, before turning away to saunter across the conference hall towards to graceful arched exits that lead to the garden courtyards.
He could literally feel the heat of the glares scorching his back.
Delightful.
Tahna sipped his refreshed drink as he stepped out into the cool night air. He was absolutely certain that, as soon as he was out of sight, Kyle and his little semi-private party back in the hall would be verbally flaying Tahna alive.
Let them... Tahna huffed a sharp little laugh from deep in his chest. As offended as Kyle Li might be, unlike he could with the hapless Laron Tak, he really could not touch Tahna at all. Partly because of the fact that Tahna was of equal caste and also held a senior rank within the Syndicate; but mostly, it was because – also unlike Laron – what truly mattered now to Tahna Lam wasn't even located on the planet of Amoi.
He made up his mind.
He would take the secondment, and with pleasure.
And he would put Chey Neeson out of his suffering and agree to become his spouse with as much, if not more, joy and contentment.
It was time, Tahna felt, to finally seek out a place where he was welcome; to relinquish standing alone upon the principle and allow himself the opportunity to be loved and accepted and respected. Not as an Elite, not even as an Amoian.
But just as Tahna.
Just as himself.
Feeling a certain tension leaving his shoulders as he finally decided his future, Tahna began to walk the gracefully tended paths of the Partia gardens with a touch more intent. He realized, even without having to consider it too much, that he was actually looking for a certain Sapphire. He knew Laron would be here somewhere – certainly if he was needing to enhance his professional network in light of Kyle's little bout of backstabbing, he would have attended this evening's social event.
Now, all Tahna needed to do was find him.
Because Laron Tak was going to be the final, and somehow most appropriate, little detail of Tahna's life-altering decision.
In one of the many exquisitely laid out garden courtyards surrounding the glittering conference centre of Partia, a pensive Sapphire Elite lifted his luminous eyes to the far distant stars and, in deference to the fact that he was alone in a secluded location, vented a soft but genuinely disappointed sigh.
This outward display of emotion in a public location – albeit a currently private one – was quite telling regarding Laron's inner turmoil. Quite frankly, he had expected a somewhat better result that the one he had encountered here tonight. Blondies and Platinas, the higher-ranking departmental heads and division leaders, all seemed to be rather pointedly avoiding him. The really unsatisfactory thing was – so was every other Elite caste, equal or lower to Laron. Of course, the fact that Kyle Li was quite overtly holding court in the centre of the function hall, ready to draw exactly the wrong sort of attention to any Elite that engaged in more than desultory conversation with him just might have had something to do with it.
Iason Mink was in attendance this evening, his undeniably attractive mongrel Companion by his side, Laron had noticed. But although Iason's pale gaze had narrowed thoughtfully when he had observed the by-play from his place upon the central dais, Laron had also noted that the Blondie had not been inclined to investigate further than that.
At least not yet.
Which was understandable, Laron supposed as he ran one hand through his shimmering wealth of blue-black hair. Iason Mink, even prior to his rather fundamental change in leadership direction, had always been predisposed to letting his Elites handle their own social and professional issues. Getting involved meant taking sides and taking sides meant unrest and unwelcome suppositions. Thus Iason, and to a lesser degree his 2IC Raoul Am, was strictly even-handed in these matters. And, more often than not, deliberately absent from them altogether.
But, nevertheless, even understanding that, Laron had to admit that the current situation was exceedingly unpleasant for him.
Tanking that into account, he was also very relieved that Esra had not accompanied him tonight. Although it had taken quite a bit of negotiation on Laron's part to persuade his young mate not to come, he was glad in retrospect that he had put the extra effort into convincing him that it was not necessary.
Amoian high society could be extremely ugly and, although Laron would most certainly be comfortable confiding tonight's events in hindsight with Esra – having now learned firsthand the emotional benefits of sharing such matters with his mate, even if for no other reason than the sympathetic counsel – he still retained more than enough of a protective streak to want to spare Esra the reality of it. Quite frankly, Laron smiled wryly and shook his head a little, his young Companion was simply too good for such things.
"Ah... here you are," a somewhat unpleasantly familiar voice came from the entrance of the courtyard behind Laron. The Sapphire turned, his eyes narrowing warily and noticeable tension stiffening his broad shoulders as he took in the sight of the Blondie slowly sauntering towards him, all dove grey silks and deep red velvets, dripping elegance and smirking with secret amusement.
Laron gritted his teeth, the muscles of his jaw working for a moment as he braced himself anew.
The single Blondie outside of Kyle Li himself that Laron Tak would prefer to avoid and he was right here in front of him.
"Sir Tahna," he bowed his head shortly, his voice cool and unwelcoming.
Noting the almost gleeful twinkle that entered Tahna Lam's eyes as Laron's tone made his dislike perfectly clear, the Sapphire resisted the urge to simply turn his back and walk away. He wasn't about to give this supercilious creature the satisfaction. Instead he set his shoulders and lifted his chin, prepared to face whatever the Blondie had to throw at him.
Laron Tak had had just about enough for one night and, now that socially and legally it was no longer required to automatically defer to an Elite of a higher color caste, it appeared that Tahna Lam was going to have to learn that the hard way.
Laron was almost looking forward to it...
The journey itself... – chapter 15 << >> The journey itself... – chapter 17