B5 FIC: lie to me (1/1)
lie to me
Londo & G'Kar, Season 5, fanfic100 prompt #51 - water. Something a little... different. I haven't watched B5 for a while; I think it maybe shows. Hmmm. You know what this means - B5 marathon over the weekend, whee!!
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G'Kar once told him that there is a Narn certainty floating about on the ether, ripe for speculation and dissent, and it is this: Centauri do not dream true. Which ether, Londo asked, ready to declare war on this patent untruth and besmirching of Centauri honour. Which Narn's certainty? All Narn, G'Kar said, and stretched on the bed. It was an odd sight: him still fully dressed, gauntlets snagging on the silk of the bedlinen, and tired from the flight in. All Narn? Bar one, G'Kar conceded, and set to work on removing his armour.
Londo hmpf-ed and bah-ed, but left him to it and retired to the bathing room. He made much work of the lather and the washcloth, as if they were to blame for his disgruntled mood.
Mollari, G'Kar said from the doorway. He had removed the majority of his armour, clad only in heavy-thread clothes resembling potato sacks more than anything else. I'm busy, Londo said, scrubbing at his forearms. Some of us take our cleanliness seriously.
Yes, so I see, G'Kar said. He sat on the ground, legs folded beneath his torso, and propped an arm on the edge of the tub. It appears that I must forever converse with you in a state of undress.
You do not need to converse with me at all, Londo said.
G'Kar frowned slightly. You are insulted, he said, surprised. I have not often seen you so angry without being puffed-up at the same time.
It is a skill, Londo said drily, unimpressed, and took to the loofah. Don't you have some other officials to pester?
Alas, I have dispatched all of the interesting ones. Why must you make enemies of them all, and only forge alliances with the dullest, most mind-numbing courtiers around?
Londo did not say anything for a while. The water had grown tepid and he shifted uncomfortably, torn between abandoning his bath and calling for an attendant to bring more hot water. Do you believe that Centauri do not dream true?
I have not met all Centauri, Mollari; nor do I wish to. Making your acquaintance has been quite enough for one lifetime. He hesitated, then stood, collecting the tall silver flagon at the side of the bath and carefully filling it to the brim. You must move a little or I will turn you an even more ridiculous colour, he said, then poured in the hot water at the edge of the bath, well away from Londo's vulnerable limbs.
Hrrmmm, Londo said, suddenly warm. You have your uses.
G'Kar set the flagon back down and mock-scowled at him. You are most vexing when you are angry, Mollari.
I have a great many things to be angry about, Londo said.
You see my problem. He tapped the surface of the water, watching the bathing oil cling to his fingers.
Londo watched him watch the water and shifted uncomfortably beneath it. Great Maker, he muttered at last, must you stare so?
I am fascinated by what I see, Mollari. You are genuinely offended, G'kar said, and he sounded perplexed. I have neither alluded to your parentage, nor to the dubiousness of Centauri honour - and yet you manage righteous indignation!
Londo closed his eyes. I have dreamt true, he said. Or - I believe that I have. The Great Maker will tell in time whether it was a true dream.
G'Kar was silent for a long while. And if it wasn't?
Then I shall be infinitely glad of it.
Eyes still closed, he was surprised to feel G'Kar's hand on his arm. If you insist on stewing in your own juices, I shall fetch more hot water. I will not guard you from assassins only to have you fall foul of illness, G'Kar said quietly. Silent, he left the room.
Londo stayed in the water - once again grown tepid - eyes closed, the memory of G'Kar's fingers warm on his skin.
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fin