NEW: TOS Sympathy for the Devil 4/6 [PG-13] (S/f, f/m)
Rabble Rouser
AUTHOR: Rabble Rouser
CONTACT: Rabbl...@aol.com
SERIES: TOS
RATING: [PG-13]
CODES: S/T'Pring, T'Pring/Stonn
PART: 4/6
DATE: October 12, 2000
SUMMARY: T'Pring tries to find a way out of a bond she does not want.
See Part One for Disclaimers and Acknowledgements.
* * *
I have to admit that I did not find Stonn's countenance pleasing at first
sight. But then he began to sing. The sounds came up to me as if from a well
deep within my own breast. I was grateful for the dark of the opera house for I
could not trust my emotional control as the music unraveled a knot deep in my
core. Turandot is the fable of a princess who sends every suitor to his death
until she meets her prince. A woman "encased in ice" until she learns the name
of her prince is "love." It is a dark tale for the lovers are united only
through the death of another.
At the end I felt wrung out. The rush of applause slapped me back to
self-awareness. I felt manipulated. I thought Stonn might be using his
telepathic abilities to amplify feelings in the audience. We had heard reports
in the Council of the spell Sybok wove before audiences. Some had muttered of
telepathic manipulation although most did not think it possible. After this
experience, I began to credit it. If Stonn was doing what I suspected, it was a
tremendous abuse of his gifts and one that as a healer I was obliged to
investigate.
Amanda, as Sarek's wife, was an important personage, and she had no problem
obtaining invitations to the reception afterwards. My eyes immediately found
Stonn as he stood talking to a group of admirers with a rather overaffectionate
blonde by his side. I pondered this seeming proclivity of Vulcan men on Earth
for such creatures. Was it perhaps the richness of the air that interfered with
their judgment? Amanda pushed her way to his side.
"Lady Amanda," said Stonn, not bothering to hide his astonishment. "All of you
will have to excuse me. The lady is an old friend I haven't seen in years."
"This is T'Pring. She is Spock's betrothed."
I saw an eyebrow lift at that and stiffened. I imagined him calculating Spock's
age and mine and coming to his own conclusions from the fact that I was being
introduced as Spock's betrothed rather than his wife or bondmate. He led us to
a small room and indicated that Amanda and I sit down. He stood half perched on
a desk in a relaxed pose atypical of Vulcans.
"Stonn, where is he?" Amanda asked without preliminaries. Stonn did not ask
whom she meant.
"I do not know."
"You are the last we know of to have been with him."
"Lady, I feel he lost his way. Sybok was a revolutionary. He taught that the
way to self-knowledge is through emotion and looked to the old ways and those
of other civilizations to find new ways. But now he chases a myth--Sha Ka Ree.
I have no wish to go questing through the universe to find what should be
looked for within. Besides, I found he was looking for a way to eliminate pain.
I did not fight my way back to feeling emotion to give up half of what I am. If
one is looking for self-knowledge, our pain is as good a teacher as any. And
with time, I found much in Surak's path to value that Sybok couldn't
acknowledge."
"Then I have come here for nothing."
"Not, I hope, for nothing. It is a long time since I have had any contact with
Vulcan. Please tell me you'll stay at my home as my guests." He turned a look
on me that made me flush like a child. I threw out a challenge to cover the
effect he was having on me.
"I do not wish to be the guest of one who uses his mind to manipulate others."
His eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by that?"
"That performance. You must have been using a mental technique to project
emotion."
Stonn burst out laughing. The action was so incongruous in a Vulcan I was
startled into speechlessness. Sybok's follower indeed.
"I only used the kind of techniques humans have been using to move and stir
emotions for thousands of years. With a little help from Puccini."
My face burned. If true, what I had admitted was almost as damning as what I
had accused him of. It meant that with his voice alone he had been able to
disturb emotions I had long thought killed within me.
He smiled knowingly. "I don't think I've ever received a greater tribute to my
abilities."
"I am a Healer. I am fully in control of my emotions."
"Which is to admit you have them. Vulcans! It never ceases to amaze me. We are
a race of empaths trying to dry up the very spring of our identity."
"We are telepaths."
"So-called 'touch telepaths.' Tell me, T'Pring. What is it that you experience
in a meld? You feel the very physical sensations of your subject, their
emotions, and only incidentally and with great focus, their thoughts. Vulcans
are not true telepaths. Is it not easier for you to reach thoughts when they
resonate with emotion?"
"We are taught to empty ourselves of all emotion before attempting a meld."
"Then you are blocking off half of your ability."
I did not answer that and Amanda broke into my thoughts.
"My son is in San Francisco. We're returning there for the next two weeks
before we go back to Vulcan."
My words were directed at Amanda but it was Stonn's gaze I held. "You can
return. I intend to stay in New York City. There is much I wish to explore
here."
Stonn nodded his head. "You have not asked after my T'Lara, Lady Amanda. She
died with the others three years ago. Sybok was chasing yet another rumor of
Sha Ka Ree and landed us on what turned out to be Klingon territory. Her family
will not receive messages from me. I do not think they know. I would like to
tell you, T'Pring, what happened to each of our party. Perhaps their families
would be willing to learn what became of them from you when you return. I would
hope that it is enough that their katras are lost without their totally being
banished from memory."
"I grieve with thee," I said. "I will be glad to give their families that
peace."
"T'Pring, you can't stay. We have to leave tomorrow. Spock will be expecting us
both."
"You may feel free to send my regrets. In any case I do not want to be in the
way. I doubt Spock will miss my company."
"T'Pring, this is a chance for us to be together as a family..." She broke off,
perhaps noticing I was no longer paying her any attention. "I want to return to
our rooms."
"I will meet you there later."
"And when will that be?"
"It is early yet," Stonn answered for me, "I'll see that she returns safely." I
glanced back at Amanda and saw something dangerous flicker in her eyes a moment
before she turned and left.
* * *
When I returned, she was waiting for me fully dressed.
"It's three in the morning."
"I am aware of the time. I was not aware of a curfew."
We argued--or rather Amanda shouted and threatened, and I refused to change my
mind. I assume she fully informed Spock of where and with whom I would be
spending my time. I cared not. There is no logic in hypocrisy and pretense.
There is no hiding such secrets in a Vulcan marriage bed. Through meditation I
had teased out the emotions I had felt upon encountering Spock again. Envy that
Spock had found someone? Yes. A stung pride? Yes, otherwise I would not have
signaled my intent not to be held to Vulcan propriety so starkly. What I had
not felt was jealousy. Indeed, the strongest emotion was relief--and release.
From what I was not yet sure.
There was one consolation. For the next six years, I would not be graced with
the company of the Lady Amanda.
* * *
I stayed in New York City for the balance of my leave. I fast grew accustomed
to the mild spring climate and felt a euphoria there I at first attributed to
the lightness of the gravity and the oxygen rich air. Stonn and I were
constantly in each other's company. I knew it was wrong. I knew he was a threat
to my duty and my honor and my hard-won serenity. It made no difference. On one
of those days we walked to Central Park.
I followed Stonn closely. As we walked side by side, my hand would at times
brush against his. That slight contact sent a warmth through me I had not felt
in a long time. It hurt. Hurt in the same way as when a bandage too tight is
loosened to let the blood rush back in. I wondered if the trees in bud about us
felt that same pain when the sap rose in them after the long winter. What was
so disturbing is that I knew that with my strong shielding this was not the
result of telepathic contact. I was being moved emotionally by physical contact
alone. The slightest of touches with a man I barely knew.
We strolled in a city where almost everyone strode quickly. There is nothing
slow and unhurried about New York City. Above us flitters wove around each
other in such profusion it was dizzying. Walkways and thinly spun bridges
linked buildings--some so tall they were wreathed in clouds. The myriad colors
of the clothing on the people about us and the sounds--laughter, the cries of
infants and woops of children--were so unusual to me as to cause a sense of
vertigo. With all this, it was a shock to come upon a large expanse totally
free of buildings, ground cars, and flitters. We entered, and the sight and
scents of a profusion of flowers overwhelmed me.
I touched one of the yellow flowers with a finger. "What are these?"
"Daffodils. Beautiful aren't they? This is one of my favorite places in the
city. It feels strange to think of all the madness ringing a place of such
quiet and stillness. Look at all the lush growth around us. A small walk up
this path will take us to a lake and yet this is nothing to the abundance and
richness of life outside the city. This park is very old, T'Pring, as this part
of Earth measures things. Not much older than what would be a couple of
lifetimes for us but that is about as far as tradition goes here. There is
hardly a building here that can boast of being older than T'Pau. This city is
always reinventing itself."
"That would make me feel rootless."
"I find it freeing. On Vulcan I was Stonn, the farmer's son. Here I am king of
my profession and no one cares where I came from."
"Indeed, I thought you a prince."
He smiled at my reference to his role as Calaf in the opera. That smile
transformed his face. I caught myself thinking what a pity it would be if he
lost that smile to conform to Vulcan custom. I admonished myself that I was
being illogical. "Is there nothing in you left that is Vulcan?"
"I am Vulcan. Here, I can be Stonn also. Here, I can be as Vulcan as I choose."
He drew my arm into his. "Look, I can link an arm with yours and no one gives
us a second glance. I can cup your cheek," he said, suiting action to words,
"and there is no scandal." Instead of pulling away as I knew I should, I leaned
into the touch.
"Do you not fear loss of control?" I murmured.
"Look around you. Here people smile, laugh, touch and there is no chaos, no
rape and rapine in the streets."
"They are human."
"They are feeling rational creatures not so different from us. They are no more
emotional berserkers than we are passionless beings of logic. You asked what is
left in me that is Vulcan. I have not thrown away what I learned, but have
built upon it. Now I meditate to integrate emotion instead of to dissipate it.
I feel I bow more to reality-truth now that I accept all of what I am. I feel
Earth has much it could learn from Vulcan as we could learn much from Earth.
That is how it was meant to be. That is the true meaning of IDIC--rather than
sealing Vulcan under a tight airless dome so no ideas can enter or escape."
"Have you ever thought of returning?"
"There is nothing of value for me on Vulcan. No ties. I will not pay the price
that would be asked. I am not willing to have my memories and my emotions
stripped so I may return. Strange as it may seem, Earth is the only place I can
feel free to be a Vulcan."
"I do have ties there. And find there much of value."
"I know."
***
The first thing I did when I returned to Vulcan, was check in on T'Vashti.
There had been no change in the time I had been gone. I returned to my home and
looked for my old violin. I found it undamaged. It was a gift of my father's.
After my betrothal to Spock, Amanda had wished to gift me with the Stradivarius
she had lent me for my lessons but father would not permit so rich a gift. So
he had sold an heirloom a thousand years old to buy me this wondrous
construction of maple, spruce, and ebony imported from Earth. As I tuned the
strings, I hummed to myself snatches of the andante of Barber's Violin
Concerto. I found it expressed a tender longing I now appreciated better than I
had in childhood. Doctor Elizabeth Violet had just joined the Hospital staff
and was looking for companions to form a string quartet. I decided I would
inquire if she still needed a violinist for the group. My fingers caressed the
grain on the back of the instrument before slipping it under my chin. When I
began to play again, I felt as if my entire body was vibrating with song.
That is when the idea flashed into my mind. *Vulcans are not true telepaths. Is
it not easier for you to reach thoughts when they resonate with emotion?* I
could not even tell another Healer my idea. They would think me in need of
healing myself. Could not even ask one to stand by in case something went
wrong. Emotion was the key.
I knew that if I did open myself up in this manner, I would not be able to will
myself back to the sterility of the past decade. Indeed, in truth it was
already too late. Something within me was already unfolding and could not be
shut again.
* * *
I returned to the Hospital that night. T'Vashti's mother was asleep in a chair
at her child's side still holding her daughter's small hand. Her father, Sofel,
was pacing like a caged le-matya. I woke her and asked them both permission for
what I would do. I did not minimize the danger. The odds were not favorable. I
calculated a probability of 15.33 percent it would lead to her recovery and a
15.24 percent probability the procedure would result in her death. But as Sofel
noted, those were better odds than those if we did nothing. I did not tell them
there was a 54.56 probability the meld would leave me in her state or cause my
death. A Vulcan, even a caring parent--and these cared--might decide that logic
demanded that two lives should not be risked where only one was at stake.
I plunged into her consciousness at a level we usually did not dare. I had
already repaired the surface trauma to her neural pathways--the cause of her
continuing unconsciousness had to lie deeper.
I found myself in her inner world on a vast plain above which rose Mount
Seleya. I saw T'Vashti sitting on the ground dressed in the traditional loose
white pants and tunic of the kahns-wan--the test of survival after which we are
counted adults. She was playing with a sehlat cub that could not be more than
three weeks old.
I sat down beside her and scratched the sehlat under the chin. I could feel the
rumble of a purr. "T'Vashti, you must come back with me. Your parents are
waiting."
"No! I will not go back. *He* will be there."
"Who, chiya?"
"Stapek, my betrothed. He is cruel. He cannot find me here."
"Child, neither can any one else. You cannot stay here or you will die." The
sehlat cub leapt up and began to lick my face. I felt a laughter bubble up I
could not suppress in this state. There was no hiding emotion mind to mind.
That is why the meld is such a private thing. "What is her name?"
"K'athia. She will not be there."
"T'Vashti, I am sure she is waiting for you."
"Stapek killed her. He set her on fire. I saw it in his mind. He enjoyed it. He
will kill me too someday. I saw it."
I was rocked back on my heels. "Chiya, there are laws. He will not be allowed
to hurt you. His mind is sick. I will get him help."
"I do not want him helped. I want him gone!"
I kept silent. I could not lie mind to mind. There were limits to what could be
healed. When one is linked, for a moment one glimpses all that one is. She did
not speak out of fear but from knowledge. A memory I had buried came back. That
is part of why I had resisted the link with Spock. I had seen the fault line
running through his Vulcan and human halves and knew it was a matter of time
before it caused him to run or led him to Gol. I had seen it all those years
ago but had not allowed myself to really think about it.
T'Vashti's situation was far worse. We claim to be ruled by logic and yet hold
ourselves more bound by traditions than the Humans. Liz and M'Benga honor what
family traditions they will and decide which to pass on to any children. I have
seen humans create new traditions and adopt some of ours for their own. Yet we
do not see tradition as something we shape.
The laws regarding a bond have not been changed within recorded memory. We are
taught as much in the lessons in ritual and tradition leading up to our
kahs-wan. "As it was in the dawn of our days, as it is today, as it will be for
all tomorrow's..." It does not matter that T'Vashti would have her life joined
to one with a twisted mind. There would be only one way open to her a decade
hence--the challenge.
And what woman would chance it? To invoke the challenge could leave T'Vashti
Stapek's chattel. How could she choose it knowing that a man who cared enough
to risk his life for her--perhaps her only defender--could be killed before her
eyes? And even if her champion won, could she trust him to free her? No, there
was ample reason that no woman had chosen that route for centuries.
"T'Vashti, this is not logical. You are closing off all choice. There are
always possibilities. I give you my word. If you return with me, I will not
rest until I find another way for you."
I saw her resistance and knew words of logic would not be enough. I had been
trained to empty my mind of all emotion when attempting a mental healing. We
were supposed to be a transparent pool--a calm surface for another disturbed
mind to mirror. The traditional Vulcan healing would not allow the release she
needed.
I drew her to me gently. I brought to mind my own disastrous bonding ceremony.
I let her feel my understanding and compassion for her. I did not try to block
or shield that part of myself away. I rocked her gently back and forth and gave
her permission to feel what she would. At first she resisted my embrace but I
just hugged her tighter. I could feel her trembling. She hugged K'athia closely
to her. Finally her eyes welled up with tears. I did not reprove her but
continued to hold her until her sobs subsided. It felt as if a poison within
her had finally been allowed to drain. She pushed away from me and gently
placed the cub on the ground.
"You promise?"
"I promise I will try." She nodded at that and took my hand. I pulled her up to
where her life was waiting, not sure if I did her a kindness.
T'Vashti recovered. She is now thirteen and at most it can only be a matter of
a few years before Stapek enters pon farr. Six years later I am still looking
for a way out--for both of us.
* * *
I was walking to the Hospital one morning the next year when I heard a voice
call my name. I turned and fought down the overwhelming urge to run to his
side. He walked slowly to me.
"Stonn. What price have you paid to be here?"
"Close to nothing. I entered with a Federation passport as a Federation
citizen, with a Federation party. I will be heading up the Music Department at
Terra University that is being established in Shi'Kahr."
"You took a terrible risk. Did no one try to stop you?"
"Vulcans are not good at dealing with the unexpected. They could not think of
how to bar me without causing embarrassment before the Earth Ambassador. I have
merely been cautioned that certain names and ideas are not to be spoken here
and that a certain amount of decorum is expected."
"I thought you said that only on Earth did you feel free to be Vulcan."
"If I cannot be a Vulcan here, I cannot be one anywhere. Perhaps I have finally
become an adult. It is a hard thing to learn that your homeland has flaws; it
is like learning that your parents aren't perfect. It is an even harder thing
to forgive them that and love them anyway."
"And when you said there was nothing of value for you here? No ties?"
"I was wrong."
"You have given up so much. Your career. Your home in a city you love."
"Nothing of value is gained without paying a price, T'Pring. I believe I will
profit much from the trade." He closed the distance between us and tilted up my
chin to meet his eyes. "But there are things of Earth that will always stay
with me. Like this custom." He bent down and kissed me. A soft, featherlight
kiss that teased and promised more. "The truth, T'Pring, is that nothing is
worth savoring without you there beside me."
I could not name what I was feeling beyond a desire that melted me from inside
out. I could not name it when that night I took him into my bed and he awakened
every nerve in my body. I could not name it in the following weeks as he
courted me as if it was my choice what man I could have by my side. As if, he
would learn of me from the outside in--first learning and teaching back to me
the responses of my own body, then challenging and seducing my mind. And
finally teaching me to put a name to this feeling that is no longer in the
Vulcan lexicon. Not putting a name to it does not prevent a Vulcan from feeling
love.
In the glow of that first year, we were perhaps not always as careful as we
should have been. I made room for Stonn beside me in my life. Liz became his
friend too as she had became mine. One day T'Pau spoke cryptically of the need
to give respect to at least the outward proprieties of a bond. Of how those in
the Ruling Council could do almost what they willed as long as they were
discreet. This is how I knew she had heard of Stonn and me. The only road that
one would not travel is a straight line. I had no wish to lose what I had.
T'Pau could banish Stonn with a word. I think she was pleased to have such
power over me. I conformed as I needed to in public and refused to consider
what might happen if Spock finally entered pon farr or what would happen if he
never did.
End of Part Four
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We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
--T.S. Eliot
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