Mene

 

 

His mate prepared the evening meal. His son did his school work. The aromas of the cooking meal almost outshone his mate's natural scent. Almost. Mene never thought he'd walk into such a domestic picture. He never expected how the sight would fill him with joy. Such domesticity wasn't for him, he had told himself for years. His position as Enforcer kept him far too busy. Yet here he was, a newly-minted family male.

"Can you help me with my homework?" Michael sat at the kitchen table, legs swinging on the chair.

"Sure, honey," Rosemary said, wiping her hands clean on a towel.

"Not you. Mene."

Mene paused in the doorway. "Are you sure?"

"There's a thing coming up. The, um, anwynhil. Nals said I could ask you if I wanted to fall in the mud, but I think he was joking."

Mene huffed. He never liked Nals, not since they were children. They were oil and water. Moreover, Nals always had a smug expression on his face that enticed Mene to punch him.

"What's the an win hill?" Rosemary asked.

"It's a race," Michael said excitedly. Everything made the youth excited, it seemed. "The course changes every year, so no one knows what to expect, not really, but we'll swim a bit in the river and climb over stuff. At the end, you get a tattoo." Michael flexed an arm. "I'm gonna get a hula girl here and make her dance."

"You will do no such thing," Rosemary said. She turned to Mene, "It sounds dangerous."

"Students of the Academy compete in the anwynhil every year. No one has perished in living memory." His mate worried too much.

His words were meant to assuage her fears but had the opposite effect. "What do you mean ‘living memory’? No." She shook her head. "Absolutely not. You're not doing this, Michael."

"Mom, all the other kids are doing it. I'll look like a baby."

"Oh, well then, why don't you jump off a bridge, so no one will think you're a baby?"

"Reven said they jumped off a bridge last year."

"Reven?" Mene asked.

"He's my friend." Michael wrote on his paper. Peering over a shoulder, Mene saw he worked on math problems. "So will you?"

"I said no," Rosemary said before he could answer.

"It is safe," Mene explained.

"Safe like when you took my baby out to hunt giant crabs? Your idea of safe does not jive with my idea. What is the point of this race anyway?"

At that moment Mene knew he had won the argument. His mate only questioned the validity of an activity when she was near defeat. "It teaches independent thinking, problem solving, teamwork, and practical skills such as reading a map."

"And jumping off of bridges."

"They don't do that every year, Mom." Michael rolled his eyes mightily.

"The entire school participates," Mene explained. "The students run a course through the countryside and the staff monitors. Every year, obstacles are added, but the core is a test of endurance and wits."

"Everyone does it?" She frowned. He could see that his mate did not want to draw unwanted attention to her son by excluding him from an activity, but she worried.

"Beginners move together in a herd. They are never far from an instructor."

A timer dinged. "Dinner's ready. Go wash up and then set the table, please," she ordered. Michael shoved his homework into a satchel and dashed off.

"Jumping off a bridge? Are you honestly telling me that's safe?"

Mene gathered her in his arms. She went to him without protest. "The course changes every year, but the geography of the land surrounding the Academy remains the same. The race will often take them to a river. Some students will jump, to save time. It is not required."

"It's spring. Won't the water be cold and fast?"

"Cold, yes." The snowpack in the mountains had not yet melted.

"What happens if he fails?"

"Many students do not complete it their first attempt, but he will gain respect for attempting."

"And if he gets lost or hurt?"

"The route is monitored. He will never be far from help if he needed it." He knew Michael would not. Rosemary underestimated her son, but Mene saw his potential. Michael had the same fearless heart as his mother. He would be a great warrior, even if he was a soft-skinned Terran.

"Did you do this? When you were his age?"

"Yes. Nals had pushed me off the path and into the mud."

She smirked and tried to hide her amusement behind her hand. "And you'll help him prepare?"

"Of course. He will need to learn to read a map and a compass. We will train."

"So I can do it?" Michael bounced on his toes with excitement. "Reven said you'd never let me. He said my mom was afraid of her own shadow."

Rosemary pulled away, eyes narrowed. "I'm not sure if I approve of you hanging around this Reven kid."

"He's cool." Michael moved to set the table with plates and flatware.

"Sounds like he's got a mouth." Rosemary pulled a dish from the oven, the Terran scents of tomatoes and garlic wafting in the air.

"You'll be there for the anwynhil, right, Mene? Everyone's dads are going to be there."

He never thought his heart could be so full that it ached, but a Rovelli proved him wrong again. "I would not miss it for all the stars in the sky."