@sixthweyoun sent:

Odo had swapped places with his younger self months ago, and had, at least so far, come to terms with not changing the timeline. But as soon as Weyoun was in his sight... it was so much harder. He watched his attendant for a day or so, and stayed quiet, acting as he was supposed to. But when Weyoun spoke to him, when he requested an audience...

And oh, his precious Weyoun. He smiled, ever so slightly, his form softening as the mask of his younger self gave way somewhat to the detail of experience. "And I find it somewhat disturbing to see you fulfilling a role so far from what you were trained to do. It doesn't suit you well, Weyoun. The stress is visible." And then he's reaching out, the tips of his fingers just brushing Weyoun's cheek, transferring the gentlest of pride and sympathy and love. "But we each have our burdens to bear."

Weyoun stood motionlessly, the confidence of a few moments ago replaced with pure humility and love. Who was this? He'd been told, when given this assignment, that the estranged Founder known as Odo would not take kindly to such a reminder of his position, and might even dismiss it completely. That was clearly a description of a completely different Founder than the one who stood before him now. This one... this one looked at him and seemed to know him, in a way that not even his Beloved Voice knew him. There was real compassion there, of a kind he'd only received in small and fleeting moments.

"It is... it is true that I'm not specialized for field command," he said, resenting the Federation's flattening of his attempt at formal speech. "But if I may ask, how did you know this? My beloved Voice told me that you had not been raised to know the order of things."

The widening of Weyoun's eyes to betray his adoration was all that Odo had been longing for these past weeks, and if he'd had any less self-control, he'd have threaded his fingers through his hair and pulled him into the embrace they both needed. Unfortunately, his priorities didn't allow it. At least not now.

When he spoke, Odo saw the discomfort for what it was, but did nothing. As much as he longed to surround Weyoun in every possible comfort, including that of his preferred language, it would give too much away. "Our beloved Voice, honored though she may be, cannot know everything." He paused, but he couldn’t leave things there. He stroked Weyoun's cheek more firmly, lingering in the surface-level connection it provided, then he said, "Be careful. Those you command are dangerous. Not to the Order, I don't think, but to you. I don't want you to be harmed." He paused again, conflicted. "Would you like me to step in with them? The Federation can't know my involvement, but if this is moving past your abilities, there's no shame in that."

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

S06E06 Sacrifice of Angels (1997)

Weyoun

@sixthweyoun sent:

The moment he arrived, Odo knew (assuming his desires had played into his arrival point at all) why he had come here. There, across the large space, standing with another, older vorta, was his Weyoun. Younger than Odo had ever seen him before, and perhaps less confident, but just as bright as always.

He watched for a long time, just to see and to feel the burning pride that came with observing his quick learning, but when it seemed Weyoun was about to be lead out of the space, Odo finally assumed an easily-visible, approachable form, and called out. "Weyoun! I would speak to you for a moment before you continue with your day's tasks."

Weyoun-1, Aspirant to the Attendant Class, had a fairly decent idea of what his ultimate assignment was supposed to be. He would go to the Sunlit Spire, the second home of the Gods upon Kurill, and serve those who had business on his world. It was a coveted position— not that he coveted anything at all, after all, every Vorta knew that a servant of the Founders did not bother with anything so uncouth as desires— and one he'd worked tirelessly to make himself worthy of.

The arrival of this new, unfamiliar Founder threw a wrench in things.

His supervisor was visually disturbed by their presence, going rigid and gripping his shoulder with a strength Weyoun had never seen him display. "Either there's been a change to your field assignment," the older Vorta murmured, "or something is very wrong. Go, and do as the Founder bids you."

Weyoun nodded, his posture stiff and anxious. "I will do nothing less," he quietly affirmed in an effort to hide his anxiety before dashing promptly to Odo's side.

"Most Divine," he greeted, bowing with open arms. "To stand before one so esteemed is a privilege not often afforded to a mere Aspirant. How may this servant be of use?"

Weyoun came, and he was right there, and it occured to Odo far too late that he couldn't just hug him. Especially not out in the open. He paused, overwhelmed by feelings he couldn't express, then, with only a quiet "Come with me," began to walk, expecting Weyoun to follow him to a more private location. "You aren't in any trouble," he said, remembering how terrifying this must be a little later than he would've liked to. "You've nothing to fear."

Only when they were truly alone did he let himself look at Weyoun again. "I've been watching your progress," he lied. "I'm very pleased. I believe you have enormous potential. What thought have you given, to what your service to the order of things will be like?"

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she was so cute in this

// Vaguely semi plotted starter for @constable (Guardian)

Founder Odo had departed some weeks ago, and the rhythm of life on the ship had changed considerably since then.

Weyoun had probably taken it the hardest. Vanath, responsible and watchful as always, had spent a week making sure he wasn't going to self-terminate, with only minimal breaks for meals and sleep. A Blessed Attendant bond was hard to break. His mood, circadian rhythm, appetite, and ability to focus had all been severely reduced during that time, and although Vanath had dutifully and compassionately dealt with the worst symptoms through therapeutic reconditioning, he still felt like a shadow of his former self without Odo present.

Rivan, now at the beginning of his second iteration and a Blessed Attendant to the beloved Sage he served, had observed his former Field Mentor closely. It was Weyoun who had taught him what it meant to be an Attendant— the sacred responsibility of being both companion and servant, the boundless faith that transcended and superseded mere obedience. When he was upset or afraid, Weyoun had soothed him. When he'd had night terrors, a problem to which his first iteration was unfortunately prone, Weyoun had been the one to sit with him and hold his hand and reassure him that he was completely safe.

This was very clearly not the Weyoun he knew. This was a shambling corpse that happened to kind of look and sound like Weyoun, but possessed none of the same light behind his eyes. Sure, he performed his duties well, but there was very little true love or devotion behind the action. He seemed to only have two emotions: apathy, and fear. And if he was going to help his mentor at all, Rivan needed some kind of divine intervention.

He prostrated himself before the Founder, silently hoping that the added deference would serve to get their attention and drive home just how much their guidance in this matter was needed.

"One would beg audience, Founder, if it is permitted."

Rivan chittered in grateful surprise and moved closer as his Beloved Founder reached for him. He instantly felt better at the feeling of their impossibly soft touch, but the problem wasn't with him. The problem was with Weyoun. "It isn't Founder Odo's presence that one is requesting, even if Weyoun would benefit greatly from his awaited return." He bowed his head a tiny bit further, eyes flicking upward to gauge the reaction of the one he served. "Evidence suggests that Weyoun is having difficulty adjusting to the lack of personal attention and investment in his service. One would implore the Founder to accept the responsibility of guiding Weyoun's steps even temporarily, until his own Beloved Founder returns from his mission..."

He fell quiet, instantly sensing that it may have been too much for a servant, even a Blessed Attendant, to ask. "It would be a great mercy. One for which both this servant and Weyoun would be eternally thankful."

Weyoun was of a long line of dedicated attendants, not all of whom had served the child--he was more than capable of handling a lack of direction for the time that was being asked. It would take a toll--one that Weyoun didn't deserve--but it was what had been asked of him by the one he served, and he would persevere. They needn't interfere the way Rivan was requesting.

And yet, they had been quick to indulge Rivan since the very beginning of his service. A soft spot, Odo had called it. They stroked his cheek and then his hair, as they contemplated, then the Founder gave in. You ask a great deal, Rivan. That it is not on your own behalf is to your credit, but you must realize that giving my attention to Weyoun will limit what you receive.

"Well, mostly I just wanted to see what would happen if I did that," she says, holding back a giggle. "Rivan's right, you really are unwavering in your patience."

For a moment, they warmed with pride in their attendant. To be praised so openly in such a specific way was gratifying. "Ah. I would prefer if you did not repeat the experiment."

"No more boops," she conceded, raising her hands in surrender. "Gotcha." She managed an awkward, stilted open-armed bow, of the kind she'd seen Rivan adopt before when paying his respects. It seemed like the right move, just from how often she'd seen him do it. "Won't happen again."

She took a deep breath. "I've thought it over, by the way. What you offered when I got here. You need someone who understands humans, and I need," to feel useful, she thought, but didn't say. "A place to stay, and a job," she said.

Oh. They straightened slightly, pleased, and offered her a small smile in return for her efforts. She truly was finding her place. They were prepared for that to be the end of the interaction, but Lyta continued, and they gave her their attention again.

"Ah. You intend to stay." It wasn't a question, or even a clarification, really. Just a restatement of what she hadn't quite said. "You will have a home here." The last thing they'd want to do was to rock the floor under her just as she began to stand again. They looked at her for a moment longer, then set a hand on her shoulder, just brushing the side of her neck, and expressed their gentle pride and growing affection.

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devotion that corrupts is my favorite btw there's nothing wrong with it ever & it should be encouraged

I love it when odo drops a line he's clearly taken wholesale from one of his hardboiled detective novels fjdksah. 'you'll find I'm a man who... collects on his debts' yeah okay you embarrassing beige nerd

"Well, mostly I just wanted to see what would happen if I did that," she says, holding back a giggle. "Rivan's right, you really are unwavering in your patience."

For a moment, they warmed with pride in their attendant. To be praised so openly in such a specific way was gratifying. "Ah. I would prefer if you did not repeat the experiment."