Story Time (revised)

by Khiori

Saavik tells her children a story on the evening before she goes into battle. (OC from Kerjen.)

T'Pren wriggled her child's body closer to Saavik. "And then what happened, Mother?"

Saavik brushed the black silk of T'Pren's hair back behind the small upswept ear with the tips of her fingers and waited patiently for her little daughter to settle. Her son, however, for all his effort at control, was getting less than patient. He gave his sister a quelling look for distracting their mother and attempted to hasten a return to the story.

"Yes, Mother," said Setik, edging himself forward surreptiously to reattract his mother's attention, "what was the next occurrence?"

Through the high open windows, the haunting cry of a vhutkvkt, a night flyer, drifted in with the cooling desert wind. From deeper within the House estate sounded the slow sonorous chimes of Amanda's once beloved clock and Saavik lifted her head and recalled the time with a slight frown.

Setik gave a soulful sigh. "It is time to retire for the evening," he said with a sense of the eldest's duty. T'Pren actually groaned, but obediently started to move.

It was T'Kel, the one who had feigned disdainful adult non-interest to the entire concept of story telling the whole evening, who suddenly set her child's study padd down on the age worn stone tiles and balked. Crossing small arms, she gave her mother a determinedly rebellious look and announced, "I am not ready to retire."

Saavik's eyebrow ascended. "I fail to see your reticence. Your data will still be present in the morning." She kept her face perfectly composed as she watched T'Kel wrest with revealing that she had actually been listening to the tale the entire time.

At last the sharp little chin lifted. "But you will not. Your ship leaves at 0400."

Amused at the most willful of her children's attempt to circumvent admission, Saavik could not resist and tilted her head in assumed confusion. "I fail to see your point. You do not require my presence for your project."

Pride warred with unrelenting curiosity in T'Kel's dark eyes and Saavik waited her out, her amusement deepening by memories of Spock waiting her child's self out numerous times. As it had done with her, curiosity won here, too.

"Does Father know the completion of the story?"

An unbidden image of her husband in his somber Ambassadorial robes, surrounded with piles of urgent data crystals, patiently reciting the end of the tale to a suddenly not-to-be-put-off demanding T'Kel, made her eyes glint with a mischief she had thought long lost. She was not so certain Spock would be so appreciative of her teasing either of them, so she gave T'Kel an apparently considering thought to the question. "As his mother originally told the story to me, I must assume she created an equal opportunity with him."

As expected, T'Kel instantly found the opening Saavik created. "You assume," she said with all the righteous disapproval of a child who knew they had caught their parent at an attempted evasion, "you are not sure."

Both Setik and T'Pren looked at each other, seeing for themselves the sudden possibility of beds delayed that their sister had provided them, and turned keen attentions on Saavik.

But Saavik was enjoying the chase and slowly shook her head in what she knew they would perceive as her apparent sense of parental duty. "Your teachers will not be pleased to find their students lacking their maximum attention from exhaustion."

T'Kel gave her siblings a goading look. "We will regain our lost rest during morning meditations."

Her most proper child, Setik cleared his young throat uneasily, caught between obedience and his own interest in the ending. "T'Kel does speak logically, Mother."

Saavik gave him a dry look and he instantly stopped.

T'Pren, however, could not resist her twin's unspoken demand of assistance, and nodded quickly. Saavik's amusement returned as she watched her youngest's mind working through supportive arguments for her best tactical choice.

This is what comes of having two diplomats in the family.

Saavik made a mental note to inform Sarek and Spock of their corruption of her daughter. They would, she acknowledge ruefully, be utterly delighted.

T'Pren found what she wanted and leaned forward to catch her mother's attention with her earnestness. "Mother, as this story arose in response to a class discussion, undoubtedly, our teachers would find our momentary lapses an acceptable sacrifice for the further knowledge we could bring to our classmates."

T'Kel nodded instantly, her eyes the study of innocent agreement. "Precisely, Mother. T'Pren could even prepare a proper report to disseminate our new found knowledge."

Her twin stopped and gave her a narrow eyed look. "Why do I need to prepare the report? You attend the same class."

T'Kel sniffed. "Because your skill at oration is better than mine and we would not want our teachers to be displeased at Mother."

Setik looked at Saavik incredulously.

Saavik felt a twitch struggling at the corner of her mouth and swiftly repressed it. "If T'Pren is to relay the report, it seems only appropriate if T'Kel is to prepare it. Else, perhaps, the teachers might question the fairness of my parenting techniques."

T'Kel winced and her sister gave her a triumphant nod. Before T'Kel could continue the argument, Saavik gave all three of her children a mock stern glower. "In reference to such techniques, I am noting that my children are not engaged in obedient behavior to their mother. Were I on my ship, this at best would be construed as insubordination and at worst, mutiny."

T'Kel gave her mother a solemn nod, though her eyes glinted in child's mischief. "How fortunate for us that there are no airlocks in visual confirmation."

Saavik outright sighed, her humor vanishing. This is what I get for playing when I should be parenting. She fixed a quelling look on her daughter. "For the last time, T'Kel, I did not intend to space-"

T'Kel's dark eyes glinted. "That is not what Father thinks."

Saavik's lips abruptly thinned.

Setik gave his younger sister the look only an older brother could. She narrowed her eyes at him but sullenly obeyed. He smoothed his robes and came back to his mother's side, neatly distracting her from T'Kel. "I am curious as to the completion of the story, Mother."

T'Pren nodded quickly, as determined to avoid being sent to bed because of her recalcitrant twin. "I, too, Mother." She scooted closer, her own dark eyes growing crafty. "Of course, if you begin now, it will be over sooner and then our retiring for the night will come more quickly."

The two gave T'Kel stares.

T'Kel sniffed. But then joined them in the effort to stay up for even just a bit more. "Unless, of course, you do not know the ending of the story. Father says you had a remarkable tendency to . . . be distracted."

Clever psychological manipulation attempt, she had to admit. It returned amusement to Saavik. These were definitely the grandchildren of Ambassador Sarek.

She carefully kept her face stern and crossed her arms. "And his mother said he was as easily distracted." Unexpectedly an old worn memory rose up from the depths of her mind and her face grew soft and quiet. Sadness came with it but also something . . . soothing.

Amanda had been gone long enough that the pain of her loss had eased away to peace.

Saavik looked at her children and knew without grief at last that Amanda would have loved her grandchildren.

"What are you thinking, Mother?" asked Setik softly.

Saavik took a deep breath. "Your grandmother."

T'Pren looked down at her small hands. "I . . . wish she had not been human."

Saavik blinked, confused and beginning to feel displeasure.

But T'Kel understood her twin perfectly and nodded solemnly. "If she had been Vulcan, we would have been able to see her." Setik looked quietly at his boy's sandals.

Oh, my children . . . .

Saavik reached out and drew each one nearer to her, then ever so gently she touched the psi points on each child's small face and sent them a single memory.

Amanda, standing in her rose garden, her blue eyes sparkling with some gentle mischief while the desert wind played with her gray hair and light robes.

Then she pulled back and waited for them to understand.

It was T'Kel who nodded firmly first. "We can see her in you."

Saavik almost smiled at the immediate thought of just what an unmerciful teasing Amanda would have given her to hear that.

"And you can do more."

That got all of the extraordinarily intense attentions that only curious Vulcan children could manage.

"Your father is her son. Amanda is now in each of you as well."

That got their excitement.

Setik's expression lit up with a whole new interest. "We exhibit Grandmother?"

T'Pren leaned forward, her large beautiful lashed eyes becoming almost impossibly wide. "What do you see of her in us?"

All three waited with an almost quivering poise while Saavik gave each one of them the serious careful inspection she knew they needed. She lightly touched Setik's child soft cheek and turned his face so his young sister could peer up into his face.

"You have her eyes."

The memory she had just shared was fresh in their minds and it was almost adorable to see the new way her daughters stared up into their brother's human blue eyes while he tried to hold very still for them.

She reached out and touched T'Pren's hands, clasped so tightly in front of her, drawing the small fingers open for them to see. "You have her hands."

Setik and T'Pren bent over their sister's hands, as if they had never seen them before now.

Then she reached out once more and brushed T'Kel's little lips with a mother's gentle fingers. "And you have her mouth."

The other two leaned close to their sister to study her.

And naturally, T'Kel wrinkled her nose at the invasion of her personal space and gave them both a reproving glower.

Saavik's mouth turned ever so slightly up at the corner. "And perhaps more of her than that. In fact, I do believe T'Kel that you are entirely Amanda."

That got the children's heads tilting in complete confusion and Saavik made a disregarding gesture with her hand. "Forgive me, that was a purely parental concept, my children."

T'Pren perked up, instantly eager to learn something new. "Tell us the concept, mother! We do not care if we are not parents."

The others nodded immediately, moving closer. Little T'Kel crossed her arms, waiting impatiently which only made Saavik's eyes glint as other memories rose up.

She looked at her most headstrong child and heard again Amanda's laughter in her ears.

"Once, when I was apparently being more . . . difficult . . . that normal, the Lady Amanda lost control of her composure. And then she cursed me."

Setik, her most proprietary conscious child, looked positively scandalized. His blue eyes went as wide as a sehlat's and his boy's mouth opened in shocked horror. "Grandmother . . . Grandmother engaged in inappropriate language?"

Both T'Pren and T'Kel actually gave small gasps, reaching out to grip each others' hands instinctively.

Saavik had never had such a struggle to keep her face in Vulcan control. And felt a curious utter relief that she had taken all of Spock's stern lectures on her own language habits to heart when Setik had been born.

And knew that if Amanda's katra was anywhere nearby, it would be laughing with an 'I told you so' joy.

"Not that definition of curse, my children."

They blinked, their young minds shifting over vocabulary uses to understand her meaning. It was T'Pren, with her natural gift for languages that caught on first.

"As in the curses of your stories, mother?"

"Exactly."

Both Setik and T'Pren turned to stare at their sister in children's mixture of curiosity and unease.

T'Kel turned anxious large eyes up to her mother.

Saavik's face quieted. "She cursed me to have a daughter exactly like me."

"I . . . I am like you, mother?" asked T'Kel quietly.

Saavik thought of all the defiance, the willful clashes, the fierce to the point of irrational determination to choose her own way that had so frustrated Spock while he tried so desperately to save a castoff feral child.

And the moment when she had realized, truly realized, that he wanted her anyway.

"You are."

And to the complete surprise of them all, T'Kel crawled into her mother's lap and nestled.

And Saavik at last understood the look in Sarek's eyes when he watched his son.

Then there was some maneuvering and sibling conflict as the other two decided abruptly that they would not be excluded from their mother's attention.

It delighted her.

Once they were all tucked about her, Setik leaned his small chin on his hand and got that seriously skeptical look he so often did. "But mother . . . what purpose would such a curse serve?"

T'Kel almost growled at him.

Saavik shushed her and settled back into the posture her children would instantly recognize as their mother's lecture mode. "What better way to learn of myself—or to fully appreciate those who tended me? Self-experience is often the best provider of understanding. That is why the ancient stories have such supposed 'curses' in abundance. You have noted how the curses eventually bring a greater level of freedom to the various characters, yes?"

All three children nodded immediately and Setik spoke up. "By causing a perspective change." He cocked his head so very much like his father as he carefully reconsidered first his sister and then his mother with thoughtful blue eyes. "Grandmother was very wise." He solemnly concluded.

"Yes," Saavik said quietly, "she was." Then she held out two fingers.

And as was their peculiar tradition from Setik, each child touched their small fingers to hers'. The warmth of the Vulcan familial bond immediately surged as the psi contacts were made as one and for a few utterly precious moments, they were one.

"Perhaps," said T'Kel hesitantly, "perhaps you could extend your time here?"

And with all the power she held, Saavik truly wanted nothing more in all the universe than something so simple. But it could not be. And it filled her with a sudden grief.

"I cannot." She said softly. "I am called."

"By the stars?" asked T'Pren quietly. The three children often took part in their mother's ritual of watching the stars at night. Though they were too young yet to know of why their mother felt so passionately about the stars, they still felt it.

Saavik shook her head. "By duty. There is a threat to one of the Federation stations and I must go to protect it."

T'Kel signed and leaned her head against her mother. "But you do not wish to go."

Saavik noted how the ends of her black hair curled ever so slightly in light wisps and spent a few moments looking at each of her small children, memorizing them. Then she took a firm breath. "Do not be concerned. Your grandfather sent word that he will shortly be returning home to attend you in my absence."

T'Pren brightened instantly. "He is teaching me the art of negotiations! I will be able to assist him."

Setik winced and looked at his mother. "Perhaps I should go with you."

T'Pren narrowed her eyes at her brother.

Saavik found quite a bit of amusement at the thought of her oh so proper son on the bridge of her rather less than proper starship. "No, I would have you here safe, my son. Besides, who else would keep your sisters in caution's path?"

T'Kel scowled fiercely. "I did not intend to ignite Ko'Kan, Mother."

The sehlat's disagreeing low grumble echoed down from the hallway.

Saavik sighed. Her gaze lifted slowly to the night outside. Then she looked back at her children gathered around her and felt an irrational wish that she would halt time itself.

She lifted an eyebrow at herself and then granted herself as much of that wish as she could.

"If the battle goes long, it may be some time before I am able to return home."

The children looked up at her with curiosity at where there mother was going with this.

She looked at them, her eyes glinting. "It would seem to be illogical to require you t wait for the continuation of the story."

Three pairs of eyes instantly gleamed and there were a few more moments of position adjusting before everyone was settled completely. She drew her brows together in thought. "Where were we?"

"The woman named Beauty was agreeing to the Beast's hostage demands upon the agreed release of her father," T'Pren prompted immediately.

Setik nodded. "A logical response to secure her House."

T'Kel sniffed. "I would have fought him."

Setik gave his sister a brother's look of correction. "That would not be logical."

T'Kel considered his words. "Agreed. I would have waited until Father was safe and then escaped."

Her sister gave her a reproving sigh. "And what of your word? Honor must be kept, even to an enemy."

T'Kel's eyes narrowed. "According to whom?"

"Surak," said Setik stiffly. "Perhaps if you attended your studies more carefully, you would recall him."

"As I recall, Surak was killed by the enemy," said T'Kel back. And then her black brows drew together suddenly and she looked up at her mother in alarm. "The Beauty will not die, will she?"

T'Pren gasped at the thought. "She cannot die, can she, mother?"

Even Setik looked concerned. "Surely that would be counterproductive to the purpose of the tale!"

Saavik lifted her own eyebrow in tolerant amusement. "How will you know if I continue to be interrupted?"

T'Kel huffed and crossed her arms in Saavik's lap. "I am expecting an "And They Lived Happily Ever After' ending, Mother. In any cultural form."

Saavik looked down at her scowling daughter and then at the intense eyes of her other two children. Then thought of her ship, the station and the battle that was coming. And suddenly felt the first touch of fear.

Illogical. The coming battle is not projected to be so great.

But she of all people knew any mission could turn deadly in an instant.

She reached out and touched each child once more, feeling the bond she had with each one seem to sing out at the contact as she concentrated on memorizing everything about them. The softness of their hair, the gentle scents that somehow always were associated with children on any planet, the way their eyes seemed to contain the brightness of the stars themselves. How it felt to hold them now and know that they were hers. Hers.

And for a perilous moment, she found her control wavered, but she gripped it firmly.

"So am I, my daughter," she said fiercely. "So am I."

And she continued their story late into the night.