“It’s been three weeks! I think I’m hurt!” Sehvi pouted at him from his living room wall, her lower lip quivering. “It’s almost as if you’ve forgotten I existed!”
Vasiht’h snorted as he sorted through the supplies in the kitchen. “You didn’t call either, you know.”
“Oh, right.” His sister grinned and propped her cheek in her hand. “I guess my ‘woe is me’ routine isn’t going to work, then.”
“Has it ever?”
“No, but my kits use it on me so I thought I’d try it.”
Vasiht’h grinned at her. “Does it work on you?”
“Come to think of it… no.” She laughed. “What are you going to make?”
What was he going to make? He remembered marzipan fancies, and odd brittles flavored with unfamiliar extracts. Would he ever be able to recreate those flavors with the materials he had? It was too bad the Eldritch didn’t export their spices! He snorted. As if they would ever. He licked his teeth. “I want super-rich.”
“You know hundreds of super-rich recipes.”
“Ha.” He checked the refrigerator and beamed. “Oh, goat cheese. The smooth kind.”
“Uh oh. Deadly deliciousness incoming.”
“Cream cheese cookies it is.” He snagged the package. “So, ask me about my week.”
She eyed him. “This ought to be good. All right. How was your week?”
“I spent it on vacation.”
“And you didn’t tell me??” She paused, scowled ferociously. “You especially didn’t tell me after how the last vacation ended up?”
His ears sagged. “Um, not all my vacations are going to culminate in a resort-destroying hurricane.”
“It only takes one.”
He held up his hands. “All right! I’ll clear all my future vacations by you first!”
“Excellent. I’m glad we got that taken care of. So! Where did you go? Without telling me? So I could prepare for your possible injury or death?”
Vasiht’h wrinkled his nose at her. “Sehvi.”
“Fine, I’ll be serious for a minute. Tell me.”
“I went with Jahir—”
“Because you would leave him behind…”
“—to meet his family. At home.”
For once, Sehvi didn’t leap into the conversational gap, and her gaping stare was everything he could have hoped for. He let her work through it, smug, and started mashing the butter and cheese together.
“His home,” she said. “Jahir’s. Jahir-the-Eldritch’s.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“You went… to the Eldritch homeworld?” She scrubbed her hand through her hair. “They have a homeworld?”
He lifted his head and made a face at her. “Sehvi. Really? Where do you think they came from? The plane of unicorns and dewdrops?”
“Some people seem to think they lost their homeworld in some tragic backstory accident or something… I mean, you can’t know, right? That’s the point? They aren’t telling!”
That made him wonder, suddenly, if he shouldn’t be saying anything. But what could he reveal, really? He had no idea how to get to the Eldritch homeworld, couldn’t have pointed it out on a starmap if he’d wanted to. He had some sense of how long it had taken them to get there, but bizarrely the return trip had taken twice as long on the same ship. In retrospect that had to have been intentional, and to engender exactly the kind of confusion he was feeling. “I don’t know if it’s their homeworld, but it’s a world, and Jahir’s family lives on it. How’s that.”
“You met his family!”
“I did!”
“What are they like?”
Fortunately he was measuring the sugar, which gave him something to stare at intently while his facial expression wore off. “I didn’t meet all of them, but his mother’s wonderful. And some of his cousins…”
“Also wonderful?”
A vision of Sediryl’s dangerous eyes. “Impressive, I’d say.” He thought of Juzie. “Or cute, depending.”
She huffed, eyes narrowed. “I’m suspicious, ariihir. Where were all the vile relatives? Every family’s got them. Do the Eldritch put theirs in a dungeon when company shows up?”
“Eh,” Vasiht’h said. “The annoying ones are kind of the same no matter where you go. He’s got his share.” Hasn’t he, though. “But you know the whole thing about him being rich enough to constantly buy things?”
“Oooh, oooh, you’re about to tell me he’s got a palace?” She leaned into the camera until it could pick up the dilation of her pupils as she moved out of the light. “Tell me he’s got a palace!”
“Not a palace, but a mansion,” Vasiht’h said. “With topiaries and everything.”
“Marble?”
“Tons of it.”
“Chandeliers?”
Lit with actual candles, but he elected to keep that to himself. “Thousands of shimmering crystals.”
“Dozens of rooms no one ever uses, but that are immaculately maintained by a fleet of mannerly servants and filled with amazing antiques and heirlooms!”
“Uh… yes, actually!”
“Oh my Goddess,” Sehvi said, wide-eyed. “Just like all the ridiculous romance novels about them! And to think I’m never going to see it!”
“It was something else.” Vasiht’h got to mixing, pinched off a bit of the dough and tried it. Rich, with a bit of a tang to offset the sweetness. Needed a little more salt, though. He added some and pulled a pan over. “But none of that’s the important part, though, which is what I wanted to talk to you about. Let me put these in the oven.”
Her brows lifted. “All right. If you want to stop messing around in the kitchen, it must be.”
“It’s nice to have someone who knows me so well,” Vasiht’h said.
“You have at least three. Me, Dami, and Tall, Pale, and Noble. Where is he, anyway?”
“Swimming. He’s missed the exercise while we were gone.”
“What, no enormous sculptured private pool at this mansion of his?”
“I didn’t see it all,” Vasiht’h demurred. “So I wouldn’t know. Tell me about Kovihs and the kids while I finish up here?”
“Twist my foot a little harder.” She grinned, and launched with gusto into a recitation of his nephews’ latest escapades. He grinned through the story about rescuing ‘baby’ lizards that turned out to be as long as Sehvi’s forearm, and made sympathetic noises about Kovihs working overtime in the lab, leaving Sehvi to chase the kids alone. All the minutiae of his sister’s life, so vital to his own wellbeing—she was family, and more than that, she was his closest sibling. They were something above and beyond a simple blood-bond.
Which is what led him to this.
Sitting in front of her projection with a cup of almond kerinne, Vasiht’h drew in a breath, then pulled his necklace off. Hanging it in front of the camera, he said, “I came back with this.”
Her eyes nearly crossed, focusing on it. Then she looked past it at him, her query in her eyes.
“It means I’ve been adopted into Jahir’s family.”
“Formally? Legally, I mean?”
“By their standards… which are the only standards that count. Yes.” He put the necklace back on and smoothed the pendant down against his chest fur, looking at the rampant unicorn. “It was done in front of the highest authorities, even. They have a ritual for it.”
“For adopting people.” She eyed him. “One that also applies to aliens? I thought they didn’t like aliens.”
“They don’t, but they do have provisions for it. Rarely used. I think… I might be… um… only the second person. In hundreds of years.”
Sehvi sat back, hands resting on her forelegs.
“It was a big deal, for everyone.”
“And what about you?” she asked. “What are you thinking about it?”
“That I’m happy?” Was he? He was. He’d fought hard for the legitimacy conveyed by the adoption. He’d thought he was going to die for it. “I guess it’s silly, but it means something to me, to have what we feel for one another recognized by his family. You and Dami and Tapa and everyone else in my family already knows. We can’t not know, because the mindline is… well, it’s a known quantity for us. We know it’s special, and what it means about the people on each end of it. And you and our parents have heard me talking about him for years now. But his family… I think he writes them about me, or he must, because his mother mentioned finally getting to meet me. But it didn’t feel as real.”
“And now it does.”
“Now it does. Which… is a little scary in itself. Is that silly? We’ve been doing this for years! It’s not like I’m about to start acting differently!”
“I don’t think it’s really about that, is it?” Sehvi said. “It’s more a… ‘how other people act’ than a ‘how you act’ thing. His family will have expectations now, won’t they? You’re an official partner.” She paused. “Wait, are you a partner, or a… what, son? How do Eldritch treat mindbonded? Are they expecting you to be… what? Exactly? To Jahir?”
“That… is a good question.” He scratched his nose, frowning. “I never thought about it because Jahir and I don’t.”
“How does he treat you?”
“Like we’d expect a Glaseah to treat a mindbonded?” Vasiht’h thought about that. “Goddess, I never realized how strange that is. Why should he treat me that way, when the Eldritch don’t have any framework for it?”
“Maybe because it’s what you expected? Or maybe the nature of the bond just… creates the relationship?” Sehvi shrugged. “I dunno. It works for you, though.”
“It does. But… I wonder if he’s taking his cues from me without thinking it through?” He frowned. “That might be bad, ariishir. I don’t want him subconsciously thinking of me as a mate. He needs to have children.” Thinking again of Sediryl. “And a wife. He definitely needs a wife, because eventually I think he’s going to want sex.”
“I never really thought about the sexual customs of Eldritch,” Sehvi said, bemused. “The things you bring into my life, ariihir. So he’s not like us.”
Remembering the completely unexpected—by Vasiht’h anyway!—response to Sediryl’s entrance… “No. He’s definitely not like us. Maybe the intervals are just different for them. Longer, maybe, before they start maturing into their interests. Or something, I don’t know.”
“And you think he’ll want a girl?” She looked curious. “Although if you’re right about him wanting children, a wife would be easier. I can’t imagine they have customs that might require fancy technology.”
“That’s not likely, no. I didn’t see any evidence of it, anyway.” Vasiht’h shook his head. “No, maybe this is an opportunity. I can use the adoption to frame the relationship as more of a brother-beloved thing. That’ll help when not only he wants children, but I do. It’ll make it clear that there’s no interference. Not either/or, but both/and.”
“I guess that’ll work, as long as he doesn’t think the kind of emotional intimacy you share is something brothers wouldn’t.”
“I get the impression that family relationships among Eldritch can be… tempestuous. At least some of them are very passionate. They’re not a very lukewarm people.”
“Jahir seems pretty controlled to me….”
“Right,” Vasiht’h said. “Very controlled. Which implies something that needs controlling. Trust me, they’re less serene and more repressed.”
“A society full of repressed people with no safety valves! I’m glad you’re the one in proximity to this mess, not me!” Sehvi leaned forward again, putting her cheeks in her hands. “Anyway. So you’re saying the sibling metaphor might work. It’s too bad they don’t have any tradition of intimate nonsexual relationships. Or do they?”
“I don’t know,” Vasiht’h admitted. “That would be the kind of thing they wouldn’t divulge to an outsider.”
“You mean like everything?”
He snorted a laugh. “All right, yes, point. Along with all the things, because they don’t want to talk about anything with outsiders. But that in particular would seem to be… I don’t know. Private. The nature of close relationships.”
“I guess. It makes absolutely no sense to me, but it wouldn’t, would it?” She glanced at him, amused. “What baffles me is that it makes sense to you.”
“It doesn’t,” Vasiht’h said. “But after years of knowing him, I can feel around the edges of it, enough to hug it.” He grinned.
She nodded. “So. You’re an honorary Eldritch. How do you feel?”
“Like things are going to change. Is that weird? I feel like I’ve turned a page onto a new chapter of something.”
“Well, I’d certainly call it a big deal. Especially if it is for him…?”
“Oh, yes.” He thought of the cup at his lips, and the hands steadying him, and the look in Jahir’s honey-colored eyes. “Yes.”
“There you go, then. But now we have to get to the really important question.”
Vasiht’h glanced up. “Oh?”
“Right. If you’re an honorary Eldritch son, does that make me a… half-Eldritch sister? In-law? Or something? Because if I can wrangle a passport to that ‘possibly not a homeworld, just a world my Eldritch relatives live on’ planet so I can see the topiaries and the ‘I didn’t see a gargantuan swimming pool’ mansion myself, I really, really want to go.”
Vasiht’h laughed. “Somehow I doubt it works that way. But if I find out that it does, I’ll tell you.”
The cream cheese cookies were delicious and in retrospect far too rich for his partner. Particularly after swimming. Exercise depressed Jahir’s appetite, which Vasiht’h thought regrettable, given how much Jahir should be eating and often had to be reminded to. He mixed up a batch of electrolyte water instead, and diced up some cold green melons, salting them and setting them out just as Jahir stepped through the door.
“Oh! That looks lovely.”
“It’s all for you,” Vasiht’h said, satisfied, and plated some of the soft, white cookies for himself. He was waiting when Jahir returned from setting his bag down, and while nibbling his own food he relaxed and enjoyed the sight of his partner eating all of the fruit. Chopping it often disguised how much of it there was, which was an excellent way to trick Jahir into eating more.
/I have the sense that you are trying to fill my stomach./
Vasiht’h sniffed. /It’s a good cause./
Jahir laughed quietly and obliged him by finishing it off. “You have talked with your sister.”
“After all of three weeks. She was grumpy.” Vasiht’h smiled. “You can tell when I talk to her, can’t you.”
Fondness in the mindline, like the smell of jasmine flowers… that made sense. What didn’t was the mental image of someone doing something to a tuft of… wool? Fur? With a wooden comb? Vasiht’h wondered but didn’t ask as Jahir answered, “Your aura smooths out.”
“Oh!” Vasiht’h paused. “Yes. Family’s like that, when family’s good.”
Jahir’s eyes dropped to the pendant. “So it is.”
“Which brings me to something I was wondering.” Vasiht’h broke one of the remaining cookies in half, tapping it free of crumbs. “Do you think I could call you ariihir, once in a while?”
The wash through the mindline then was intense with surprise and… awe? Gratitude? Humility? Vasiht’h could barely make sense of it: so much tumult, hidden behind such a smooth face. As usual, only Jahir’s eyes betrayed it, with their faint widening, and the softness. “You would grant to me the same intimacy you do your sister?”
Vasiht’h hadn’t thought of it that way. “Jahir, you’re already closer to me than Sehvi…!”
“Yes, but… there is a precedent there with a long and storied history.” A faint tint touched Jahir’s cheeks. “It gives what we have a name you already know.”
That what they were to one another already had a name familiar to Vasiht’h didn’t matter, he saw instantly, because Jahir had never seen any other mindbonded. Hadn’t grown up with the stories of them, or the cultural history. For Jahir, the only example of a mindbonded pairing was theirs, and existed free of context. But Jahir had watched him interacting with Sehvi for over a decade. That was a relationship he understood, because he’d witnessed it.
“Then… you don’t mind.”
“Oh! Not at all! I would be deeply gratified, if you would accord me on the same level as you do Sehvi.” Jahir paused, smiled sheepishly. “I do know that we are bonded perhaps more closely. But the naming is pleasing.”
“I think so too,” Vasiht’h said, and because it had become clear that he was the one shaping expectations for their relationship, he finished, “Because you are like a brother to me. Closer than any twin. Dear as blood. Nothing will ever change that, and no one, no matter what happens next.”
Jahir paused. “That sounded… portentous. You are not planning anything dire, I hope…”
“Other than eventually kits?” Vasiht’h grinned. “Not something you’ll be able to help me with. Except in keeping them out of trouble. But not soon. We have time. You know.”
“I do.” Huskily, and Jahir was playing with his glass of water. Brushing off the shadows that had drifted over the mindline, the Eldritch finished, “Heartbrothers, then. Mindbonded.”
“Ariihir,” Vasiht’h agreed. And added, “You should eat more melon.”
“I will do better, and eat dinner, an we make it together.”
“Done.”