JP Ens. Trovek and Amb. Zorkal: A Good Death - Comfort

[Arys Trova]

((Ihalainen Residence, Rovaniemi, Finland, Earth)) 

It didn’t feel real. 

Arys placed her ice-cold fingers on the doorknob after she had unlocked the door. She had been standing outside for a while, she didn’t know how long. She just hadn’t been able to bring herself to enter. 

Her body wasn’t registering the temperature, and her mind refused to function. The sensation of the cold metal felt surreal, and so did the warmth that caressed her face once she had pushed the door open. 

Time moved out of sync, like there was some temporal anomaly that only affected Arys. Seconds dragged on, stretched over hours until they snapped back and everything else caught up. Like a laggy computer. One moment she was in the doorway, the next, she was walking up the stairs. Arys crossed the hallway to enter her room. Just a few more steps. Then she would finally be able to fall apart without anyone noticing. 

She didn’t get away with it.  Couldn’t get away with it.  Lukin was there, and he was keenly aware of her return.  He’d even been aware of her departure and thus had not gone back to sleep.  As he heard the door, he stepped out of his room and lingered on the threshold of his own.  Grey eyes, darkened by the shadows of the night, stared at the one that led to Arys’ room.  A scowl curled the corners of his lips downward.  Ridges upon his brow deepened their furrows as he remained there, a sentinel of the night.

Eventually, the sentinel moved and he stepped forward.  One hand stretched out, fingers curled around the old fashioned knob.  Such primeval architecture, and yet it was simple enough to bypass.  That hand paused just before turning and he released it, then straightened, simply calling out.

Zorkal: Arys.

Arys had neither taken off her shoes nor her coat, but she had found herself a spot in one of the corners of the dark room. It was odd how, when feeling vulnerable, humans tended to find the most protected place to be at, even if the impending assault was of an emotional nature and physical safety barely able to offer protection. She had wrapped her arms around her knees and was sobbing. 

She looked up as she heard Lukin calling out her name. She couldn’t deal with him right now, him and his Cardassian apathy. 

Trovek: I-... what do you want? 

His answer was to open the door.   He stepped inside, closing it behind him, those stark eyes finding her hiding place.  

Trovek: Get out. 

He did not comply.  His gaze might have normally wandered the room, taken note of the contents, the strange human-like wedding decorations, a dress, other things that were indicative of impending matrimony.  Perhaps they did, even so, but he made no note of them.  His attention was upon the body huddled in the corner, her tear streaked face startling.  

Zorkal: What happened?

Trovek: He’s dead. I ended it. Now please just… go. 

Realizing that he wouldn’t go away and that she was in no state to make him, Arys leaned her forehead on her knees. Another very human response. Making yourself as small as possible, so no one can get you. 

Another breath, two, three, he didn’t move, simply stared at the crushed and broken form in front of him.  Four, five, then six.  Then one step, two, one foot in front of the other until he came to the corner and sat down beside her.  

Arys listened to him coming closer, and eventually sitting down next to her. She just had no idea why he was doing that - it was as if the man took pleasure in defying her wishes. Like the whole purpose of his life was to do the opposite of what she told him.

Trovek: Why aren’t you leaving? 

That was a very good question.  Why wasn’t he leaving?  Why did he insert himself in a moment of distress?  It was a question which he knew the answer to, but he wasn’t sure he really wanted to say it out loud. 

Zorkal:  You are in distress.

Despite himself, his voice was gentle, soft, recognising her despair, respecting it. His mouth worked, and he pondered a moment, and finally spoke, admitting something he had only come to acknowledge only a moment before. 

Zorkal: And.  Because.  

He turned slightly, just enough to incline his head toward her, almost a bow, a physical acknowledgement of the verbal. 

Zorkal: I care about you. 

Even if her tone of voice was as defiant as ever, she seemed to relax somewhat. Tears were still running down her cheeks, but her breathing was calming down. 

Trovek: ::quietly:: Those are very private feelings. It’s not fair of you. 

Zorkal: When have I ever played fair?

His voice was a half whisper, uttered quietly.  Words that might have been a part of an argument were undered with a tender undertone that was quite unlike what he had used in previous conversations.  But previous conversations had not been wrought with such sorrow, and in there they were alone.  Alone and protected, for the door was shut, and he had secured it prior.  No one one could walk in and bear witness toward the veil that had been dropped, allowing a glimpse of something beneath the surface.  

There was a moment of silence, one that stretched over several minutes, after which Arys straightened her back and wiped her tears away with the sleeve of her coat. Tears were still flowing, but Lukin’s presence was soothing. 

Trovek: Thank you for being here. Your presence is-... 

Zorkal: Irritating?

He smirked, a vain attempt to cut through the solemnity of the moment.  

Trovek: Safe. 

She carefully leaned her head against his shoulder, staring into the darkness of her room. Her mind was in chaos, much like the room itself, and she was scared of what would happen next. Her father had threatened disownment. And if she wanted to live by her principles she would have to report what he had done to her grandfather. 

Her weight against him was welcomed, as was the warmth she afforded.  He sat there, leaned his head back against the wall and stared straight ahead of him.  The outline of the door loomed in the shadows, but nothing attempted to invade the sanctuary - and he would not allow it.

And in the silence, he wondered what he should say.  This was not a situation in which he found himself often.  Only one other person had he ever allowed so close, offered an opening into something deeper than what he might present.  She was gone.  But Arys was there.  Still, words escaped him.  Offering comforting phrases, uttering soothing conversation was not his forte.  Nor was he going to say anything meaningless or empty.  The first time is always the hardest?  Such a sentiment would do nothing for her.  

So he said nothing.  He simply sat, present, waiting, willing to wait as long as need be.  What a strange moment, a strange position.  His footing in the universe had always been precarious, but for only the second time in his life, he felt as if he had found solid ground . 

END SCENE 

___________

Ensign Trovek Arys 

Counselor 

USS Juneau 

J239809TA4

&

Dalin Lukin Zorkal

Cardassian Visitor

Starbase 118 Ops