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Write two letters...
Jul. 26th, 2007 09:31 am...one to someone you hurt, and one to someone who hurt you.
From the Mollari archives; the first letter is dated from the early reign of Mollari II, the second, however, was written a year earlier, when Londo Mollari was still Ambassador on Babylon 5.
My dear Rhodopis,
in all the wonderful words our language provides, there is none quite as cutting as "regret", yes? I can only wish that your life in the decades since was a happy one. I would not intrude on it now, were it not for a more important reason than an old man looking back on that short time in his youth when he loved, married and divorced a lady he had met when she kissed him on his head and told him that whatever it was, it could not be that bad.
My dear, so many of our people died in the recent attack by the Alliance. I have made it my business to read the lists of survivors, and thus I came across your name. You lost your home and your family, and I would offer you shelter in the Royal Palace, were it not for the fact that I know all too well your pride would keep you from accepting it. I can hear you know, telling me that I made my choice all those years: and that Mollari II. was nobody you knew or wanted anything from. (It is strange how I see only now that you share more than one trait with Timov.)
However, there is a home I can offer you, and I hope you will accept it. Some years ago, I purchased a house on Cerulon. I intended to give it to a young lady named Adira Tyree; the documents of the property still bear her name. Like you, she was a dancer; like you, she had the misfortune of falling in love with me. I flatter myself that that I became a better man while loving her; at any rate, I was the Londo you might remember with less than anger. She died before I could present her with this house, and I had not the heart to give it away since. But I can think of no more suitable owner than you, Rhodopis, and if you will accept this present of Londo who was, for a very short while, your husband, I would be most grateful. The necessary documents are attached, as is a ticket of passage.
Yours in memory,
Londo Mollari
My dear Mariel,
after receiving the somewhat mystifying message from your human lawyer, I went through a paroxysm of laughter that lasted long enough for Vir to alarm Dr. Franklin as he thought I was having another heart attack. This, my darling little viper, might have been the very purpose of your message, for I am at a loss to explain it otherwise.
Your lawyer, if I understand him correctly, thinks the money I settled on you after our divorce is not enough, and not so subtly hints that if I do not add to the sum, you will have to earn your living by publishing your memoirs. Mariel, you adorable minx, why should I keep you from the laudable enterprise of adding a poisoned pen to your already impressive armory? Not I. I admire an artist, and you, my dear, were never less than skilled at everything your set your mind on.
If you do write about our life together, be sure to include details on just what poison you used when trying to kill me during the anniversary of my ascension. Not that I bear a grudge, you understand, but it might just be one I haven't come across yet, and it could be useful knowledge when I return to Centauri Prime. A politician's work is never done, alas.
Yours in amusement and eager anticipation of the literary event of the year,
Londo
From the Mollari archives; the first letter is dated from the early reign of Mollari II, the second, however, was written a year earlier, when Londo Mollari was still Ambassador on Babylon 5.
My dear Rhodopis,
in all the wonderful words our language provides, there is none quite as cutting as "regret", yes? I can only wish that your life in the decades since was a happy one. I would not intrude on it now, were it not for a more important reason than an old man looking back on that short time in his youth when he loved, married and divorced a lady he had met when she kissed him on his head and told him that whatever it was, it could not be that bad.
My dear, so many of our people died in the recent attack by the Alliance. I have made it my business to read the lists of survivors, and thus I came across your name. You lost your home and your family, and I would offer you shelter in the Royal Palace, were it not for the fact that I know all too well your pride would keep you from accepting it. I can hear you know, telling me that I made my choice all those years: and that Mollari II. was nobody you knew or wanted anything from. (It is strange how I see only now that you share more than one trait with Timov.)
However, there is a home I can offer you, and I hope you will accept it. Some years ago, I purchased a house on Cerulon. I intended to give it to a young lady named Adira Tyree; the documents of the property still bear her name. Like you, she was a dancer; like you, she had the misfortune of falling in love with me. I flatter myself that that I became a better man while loving her; at any rate, I was the Londo you might remember with less than anger. She died before I could present her with this house, and I had not the heart to give it away since. But I can think of no more suitable owner than you, Rhodopis, and if you will accept this present of Londo who was, for a very short while, your husband, I would be most grateful. The necessary documents are attached, as is a ticket of passage.
Yours in memory,
Londo Mollari
My dear Mariel,
after receiving the somewhat mystifying message from your human lawyer, I went through a paroxysm of laughter that lasted long enough for Vir to alarm Dr. Franklin as he thought I was having another heart attack. This, my darling little viper, might have been the very purpose of your message, for I am at a loss to explain it otherwise.
Your lawyer, if I understand him correctly, thinks the money I settled on you after our divorce is not enough, and not so subtly hints that if I do not add to the sum, you will have to earn your living by publishing your memoirs. Mariel, you adorable minx, why should I keep you from the laudable enterprise of adding a poisoned pen to your already impressive armory? Not I. I admire an artist, and you, my dear, were never less than skilled at everything your set your mind on.
If you do write about our life together, be sure to include details on just what poison you used when trying to kill me during the anniversary of my ascension. Not that I bear a grudge, you understand, but it might just be one I haven't come across yet, and it could be useful knowledge when I return to Centauri Prime. A politician's work is never done, alas.
Yours in amusement and eager anticipation of the literary event of the year,
Londo
