A/N: As promised, this is a companion piece to "In the Weeds," written from T'Pring's POV. It has been so easy to vilify her in fandom, but did we truly understand the challenges she faced once her parents bonded her to Spock? This is not intended to be a commentary on her behavior, but rather a look at the situation from her perspective—that of a seven-year-old who has just had her whole world turned upside down.

Betrayed

"I grieve with thee," one voice offered.

"It is a travesty," another commiserated.

"To bond you to one who is not pure is not logical, regardless of the potential benefits," a third declared with conviction. "Odds are he will not be able to fulfill the traditional Vulcan male commitment in which case you will never marry, or bear children."

It had started off as a carefree, light-hearted discussion, the participants breathlessly announcing their new bondmates. All four of the girls had completed their kahs-wan several months ago, which now allowed them to be bonded to their future mates per Vulcan custom. The other three had been pleased with their parents' choices, the conversation bordering on boastful. Spelek was from a good family, T'Karia had remarked, and she'd known him since both were four. They'd been in the same class for their kahs-wan. T'Lora's Spann was already an accomplished musician; even now, speculation was rampant that he would play for the Vulcan Philharmonic someday. And Silek was a gifted mathematician, sure to follow in his father's footsteps and win a billet at the Vulcan Science Academy once he completed his undergraduate studies T'Sunni informed them, something he would surely achieve several years early.

Suddenly, all eyes looked at her expectantly. "And whom did your parents select for you, T'Pring?" T'Karia had asked innocently.

"Spock," she'd stammered, knowing that even at age seven, his reputation preceded him.

Audible gasps could be heard around the table as her schoolmates absorbed that bit of information.

"He is the son of an ambassador, and from a noble house," T'Lora began, "but he is half-human," she finished, as if that in itself was explanation enough for their taking exception to that choice. "I am surprised he was even able to initiate the bond, or did you have to do it?" she concluded in a tone bordering on condescension.

"He is quite gifted in the Vulcan mind techniques," T'Pring responded at once, rallying to her bondmate's defense. "We had no difficulty in establishing the bond, and he did complete his kahs-wan on the first attempt. If I am not mistaken, none of you can make that claim about your future mates," she finished, trying to seize the upper hand.

"It seems only fitting that you would attempt to justify your parents' selection," T'Lora countered haughtily. "One must be loyal to one's bondmate, even when it is blatantly obvious that that decision was only made in an effort to increase your family's social status. We cannot all belong to prominent families," she scoffed. It was true. Of the four girls seated around this table in the school cafeteria, T'Pring ranked lowest on the social totem pole. A queasiness settled in the pit of her stomach. She thought these girls were her friends; never before had her family's position within their society come between them. And yet, now they seemed to be consciously distancing themselves from her, as if this was the last straw, and associating with the "outcast" would somehow reflect poorly upon them.

"Besides," T'Lora continued, "You do not know him; only met him on the day of your bonding. Naturally he would have done his best to conduct himself as strictly Vulcan, undoubtedly at the behest of his parents. You cannot possibly know in what manner he will behave on a day-to-day basis."

"It would not be possible to fake or embellish telepathic abilities, and his successful completion of his kahs-wan on the first attempt speaks volumes about his Vulcan nature, and his ability to control his human half," T'Pring offered immediately in an attempt to downplay his alienness.

A hush fell as the girls considered that answer. It was logical, if nothing else, but T'Pring could sense the doubt swirling in the air with regard to the accuracy of that statement. They did not believe her she realized with a jolt. She immediately took that as a betrayal of their trust in her. In her seven years, she had never lied or stretched the truth. She was unaccustomed to having her word questioned by anyone, let alone those girls who were members of her inner circle.

T'Karia broke the silence. "That is true," she conceded, "but the ultimate test will be to see the manner in which he conducts himself over the coming years. I am certain his goal was to present himself as a true Vulcan on the day of your bonding, as was to be expected of him. The actual personal qualities he will eventually exhibit remain to be seen," she announced with certainty.

Quiet murmurs of agreement coursed swiftly around the table. "Do not be troubled," T'Lora offered helpfully. "When the time comes you can always divorce him by the kal-if-fee. That is, if his Time ever does come," she added as an afterthought. All eyes, laced with consolation and a curious mix of pity and relief, turned to T'Pring. Despite her best efforts she could feel heat, fueled by shame, rising in her cheeks.

"Forgive me, but I do not wish to discuss the matter further," she managed, dropping her eyes to the tray of food before her.

oooOOOooo

THE NEXT day, as she made her way to her lunch table, she was shocked to see that it was already full, her usual seat occupied by another girl. All looked her way briefly before rapidly averting their eyes, continuing to talk among themselves. It was a dismissal, as surely as if they had verbally banned her from their company. Head held high, she scanned the room. Locating an empty table near the back wall, she wandered toward it and sat down. Focusing on her meal she struggled for control, her thoughts jumbled, confused, tumbling over one another like two sehlat cubs wrestling. Their society was founded on the principles of IDIC—Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations—and yet that philosophy seemed to no longer apply to her or her new bondmate.

She considered again the situation in which she found herself. As a member of one of the least prominent houses in her society, the match made by her parents had been brilliant in terms of bettering their daughter's future standing in the world. And yet, that future rested squarely on the shoulders of an untested seven-year-old hybrid.

Filled with trepidation at first, she had been pleasantly surprised upon first meeting him. As it turned out, Spock was more gifted in the Vulcan mind disciplines than she, truth be told, and had had a much easier time than she of opening himself for the bond, although she'd been reluctant to admit that to the others. While she had been nervous and somewhat reticent about the ceremony, she had sensed none of these feelings or misgivings in him. If indeed he had been experiencing the same qualms, he had been quite adept at masking them. Afterward she'd wondered if she had been as successful as he at keeping those reservations to herself. He was a gifted telepath after all, and while she was as yet unable to open the newly-formed bond which would allow her to glimpse into his current thoughts and motivations, perhaps that was not the case on his part.

Her first impression of him had been more favorable than she expected. He was quite intelligent, quiet, reserved and polite, and had she not known of his background would not have thought him anything but wholly Vulcan. They had spoken briefly before the ceremony and all of his contributions to that conversation had centered around her: He was honored at his parents' choice; the merging of their two families was sure to make each stronger; he had learned she was a gifted singer and hoped that someday he could be granted the privilege of accompanying her on the Vulcan lyre—he was certain she was much more talented than he, but he would consider it an honor nonetheless. At the time, she had been secretly pleased, and impressed, but now the gravity of the choice that had been made for her loomed menacingly, the ignorance and xenophobia of others severely overshadowing the potential benefits that could come of it. Would the possible increase in her status someday make up for the challenges she was now facing, would undoubtedly continue to face until the day they were married, many years in the future? And what if her "friends" were correct? What if as the years went by, Spock would be unable to live up to the standards expected of a purebred Vulcan male? How would that reflect upon her? As a rule the bond worked both ways, drawing the two individuals one to the other as the male's Pon Farr approached. If he never succumbed to that biological urge, would that be viewed as a failing on her part as well as his?

As it stood now she was trapped by her parents' decision, her only option the kal-if-fee—a course of action that could free her, but one that could only be pursued on her wedding day and a solution none had dared to evoke for over a century. For now and possibly for all time, she was chained to this less-than-pure specimen, now susceptible to the same ridicule and mistrust that dogged the boy relentlessly wherever he went.

As she surveyed the room, the furtive glances of her peers were instantly averted as her eyes met theirs. It seemed her fate, now bound to that of a half-breed boy, had been widely disseminated among her classmates, and in their eyes she was now found wanting as well.

She did her best to control the feelings that now overwhelmed her, but one word throbbed and twisted unchecked in her mind: betrayed.