Sic Moritur Vir
By Lady Adira
The old Emperor's hands shook as he leafed through the pile of documents on his lap. The Narn situation--oh, there was always a Narn situation--demanded his attention. Vir looked down at a page of unfamiliar names. Where were the Narns of his youth? G'Kar--Ta'Lon. One could talk with them.
When did I get so old? he thought to himself. Over a hundred, which was very old for a Centauri. There were not too many who could remember life before he was Emperor. A wry thought floated upwards in his mind. They must be getting sick of me by now...
"Majesty?" It was his equerry--what was his name? Tomari? Tovari? Tollinari--ah, that was it. Must have spoken out loud. How embarrassing.
"Nothing. I was just thinking to myself." At the carefully blank expression on the courier's face, Vir grimaced. "You think I'm silly--yes you do! Never mind, I'm used to people thinking me silly. Ever since I was--" Vir made a vague gesture, indicating a space approximately two feet off the floor. The difference is, he thought, they no longer say it to my face.
Vir dismissed his equerry and sat alone in the throne room. He should concentrate, concentrate, but the work at hand didn't seem that important any more. Yesterday--today--tomorrow--it was all the same. There were other things to to think of, too--his wives, for instance. He had outlived two of them. And then there were his children--and his grandchildren. Soli was bright: what a pity he wasn't old enough to inherit...
How sluggishly his hearts beat today! How hard they worked pushing the blood around his body. They had been performing the same task for a long, long time.
Vir reached for his drink--a wine made of Earther grapes but produced on Immolan V. Suddenly he felt giddy. A wave of dizziness washed over his body. He tried to straighten--
"There you are!" said a well-remembered voice.
"Londo?" for some reason Vir wasn't surprised to see him, though he knew there was something slightly odd about him being there.
"Keeping us all waiting, as usual," Londo continued loudly.
Vir couldn't help it--he smiled. "You look younger," he said inconsequentially.
Londo smiled in return. "Ahhhh--Vir." Then Vir saw his face become more serious. "Come along, Vir," he said in a quieter voice. (Vir recalled Londo was never so much in earnest as when he spoke quietly.) "I've been sent to bring you. It is time for a rest. You have earned it, yes?"
"I have always tried," Vir said with dignity, "to do my best." He turned and looked at the wasted figure on the throne behind him. "Poor old fellow," he added compassionately.
As in a dream, he fell in beside Londo, hurrying a little in order to keep up. By Londo's side--almost like old times again! He was filled with a strange, keen sense of anticipation, so much he didn't stop to wonder as Londo led him through an open door (where there had never been a door before) and up a broad flight of stairs into the light.
* * *
The guards outside heard the sound of glass breaking on marble floor and came bursting through the throne room doors. The old Emperor slumped on the throne, limbs sprawling and eyes vacant. Even before the first guard reached the body they knew what had happened.
They gazed at each other with stricken eyes.
"Someone better get the Prime Minister," one said finally.
It is not every day an Emperor dies, after all.
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