Author's Note: Previously posted under my beta reader. Since I am bringing all of my fanfic work back to my own account now, I decided to revise it. Hope you enjoy!
The dry brutal Vulcan wind was blowing again.
Valeris tried to pretend that it did not exist.
It merely mocked her and blew all the crueler; now carrying with it the infamous red sand that abraded her fair skin almost instantly and slapped her black hair against her cheeks hard enough to make her eyes water reflexively with the vicious lashes. She lifted her chin higher in defiance and refused to give in to the pain or to become unsettled with the now rising hiss noise of whipping sliding sand.
That would not be proper for a Vulcan.
She hitched the worn strap of her much repaired carryall further up her shoulder, ignoring the sharp bite of it across her muscles and straightened her back to ramrod correctness.
They would expect nothing less. The old pain pinched bitterly inside. Or rather, they would.
She blinked hard again and again, her jaw clenched tight enough to risk her teeth's structural integrity and she welcomed the hurt. It distracted her from the memories. And the mangled ruins they left behind.
Again Valeris wearily checked the battered long obsolete chronometer strapped too tight about her wrist, squinting her eyes almost to slits just to see past the grinding red wind. The Family transport was not due for some time yet. She would have to wait here a substantial while longer.
Unsurprising, really. She knew from a life of painful experience that being made to wait had a distinct tendency to neatly and silently remind one of one's place.
And they wanted her well and truly reminded.
The broken edges of the old scratched and scuffed data padd with her bright new Vulcan citizenship forms cut into the soft skin of her palms as her grip tightened convulsively.
This time, the pain was replaced by the dull anger she knew all too well.
Valeris forced her posture still straighter, locking her face into unassailable stone.
The wind died and abruptly in the sudden silence, the overwhelming suffocating full heat of Vulcan returned. She felt the top of her head begin to burn right through her black hair. Her unprotected white skin prickled dangerous hot warning and a deep piercing throb began just behind her eyes—a suitable match for the one stabbing the inside of her skull. Her nose threatened a potential coming bleed and she felt her tongue already beginning to swell.
One more mocking reminder that she did not belong to this world. And was not wanted.
She felt a terrible surge of consuming grieving rage and trembled, wondering if this was how it began for her father. If there truly was anything more for her destiny than what came to him-or if this was all merely a fool's exercise in illogic.
And then her eyes caught a flash of brilliant crimson ahead.
Valeris inhaled in sudden hope.
The woman she saw was . . . Vulcan perfection.
Tall and self-possessed, the woman turned back her way and for one instant Valeris found herself utterly held by the most intensely gentle gaze she had ever seen. Caught staring openly in improper manners, Valeris lowered her lashes immediately, but she could not stop feeling an almost heady realization that for the first time in her life, she had received no censoring shame under a Vulcan's scrutiny. But when she looked back up, the woman had disappeared.
Valeris felt a sudden sense of irrational panic. She flicked a quick look around the silent heat-searing streets, squinting against Vulcan's unyielding light trying to assess the possibilities, to calculate the potential end of the woman's path.
Then she saw the stately rising red stone curve of the Federation Embassy.
For a moment she hesitated, darkly agonized behind her carefully composed mask of control, afraid again of the inevitable rejection that only seemed to come naturally from Vulcans upon interacting with her. Unbidden, the last Family transmission rose up in her mind, making her ears heat emerald again with remembered humiliation.
The inside of the great embassy was, ironically, almost cold after the unrelenting heat of outside. The sudden transition from Vulcan's heavy burden of a sun into the cool stone building, made the off-worlder designed for interior seem unnaturally dark. Valeris edged hesitantly forward, putting her black hair hurriedly into proper order and trying embarrassedly to smooth and dust off the plain worn shipsuit to fit better amongst the crisply pressed uniforms with their intricate insignias. Humiliation almost made her turn around and walk back out, but the memory of the hope she had felt earlier stirred again and a lifetime starved for it gave her the final desperate courage to stay. She gathered what Vulcan Discipline she knew tight about her and straightened her shoulders and raised her chin, daring the politely inquiring human officer at reception now looking at her to challenge her right to be here.
As all of Vulcan did. As all of Vulcan had always done.
But he merely inclined his head in greeting and returned to working his terminal.
Almost unable to believe her fortune, Valeris glanced about neutrally, mentally weighing her choices now. And not liking the outcomes.
Seemingly identical red stone corridors branched off in opposite directions from the reception-corridors which, in turn, veered off again and again labyrinthine style. Sober faced armed security officers stood guard throughout them and Valeris held no foolish misconceptions about their careful placement. Or purpose.
Unauthorized wandering would most assuredly not be tolerated.
She felt suddenly ill.
No, no, not this! Not see hope at last and have it taken before she even had a chance to realize it! Valeris gripped her old data padd so hard the worn metal began to dent beneath her fingers and struggled just to keep her Vulcan mask in place as she tried to choke down despair.
A soft musical chime from an opening door on her right drew her attention to the queue almost directly behind the reception desk.
Two joking humans stepped out, and her customary distaste for them was instantly swept away as she happened to look just past them into the room.
There!
That perfect Vulcan woman was standing inside with an almost regal ease, gazing softly out the far window to the ancient red mountains beyond with her elegant hands clasped loosely at the small of her back.
As completely at home here as she had been outside.
And Valeris felt a terrible stab of jealous longing. She started to step forward, excitement blossoming in her belly.
I will have it! For once, in my life, I will actually-
The human officer at reception cleared his throat expectantly, instantly halting her. "Are you looking for someone, ma'am?"
Valeris reluctantly took her stare off the Vulcan and swallowed dryly. He looked at her, waiting, his polite face starting to close over as she hesitated. She lifted her chin higher, trying to give the appearance that she had every right to be here. "I am," she said coolly, in spite of her heart pounding in growing fear in her side, and started to brush past him.
If she could just get to the doorway—
His pale hand snapped up sharply. Instantly the guards along the walls came alert and she froze. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but to proceed further into the embassy, I first need the name of your party to begin entry authorization procedures."
A name. She just lost everything because she lacked a single name.
All her barely gained strength fell away at once and bitterness burned hot in her chest again. Slowly the proud line of her shoulders sagged and her chin lowered in the engrained recognition of defeat that a long acquaintance with constant loss had trained her too well in.
It was unsurprising really. Why had she been so foolish as to think it would ever be different?
Her eyes felt tight and her throat closed over. In a growing numbness, Valeris inclined her head properly to him and started to turn away. She had to return to the collection point. The Family shuttle would-
"Saavik."
Valeris went utterly still. Then her dark lashed eyes slowly widened and she turned slowly in disbelief.
The tall beautiful Vulcan was standing in the doorway of the queue in her crimson uniform, calmly staring down the young man at the desk with an aura of complete command that utterly entranced Valeris to the point where she caught herself holding her breath. "May I ask why are you detaining my guest, Ensign?"
The young human man blushed furiously in embarrassment to his blond hairline. "I apologize, Lieutenant, I had no idea that you were expecting—I mean, she wouldn't give a name and regulations specifically state-"
A glint of warm humor touched those intense watching eyes and Valeris was mesmerized. "Ensign, I am well aware of what regulations specifically state. Please note, however, that in Vulcan culture, names are traditionally not given without the permission of their owners." That gentled gaze found Valeris again and once more she felt the contemplation of a Vulcan like no other she had ever known. The unjudging soothing regard took her in entirely and merely . . . accepted. "Undoubtedly, my guest was merely seeking my honor."
Were it not for the little Vulcan Discipline Valeris already knew, she would have wept openly. She could almost not breathe at all.
It will be mine. At last, this will all be mine.
Her hands shook and she struggled just to stay upright with the sheer sudden realization of a lifetime of desperate longing.
The Vulcan's eyes took in the young ensign again. "Have you further concerns, or may my guest complete her visit outside of detention?"
His blush took on a truly remarkable shade of red. "No, Lieutenant! I mean, yes! I mean-."
She inclined her chestnut haired head graciously and Valeris watched fascinated as the human exhaled in relief. Then those eyes found her again and this time, an elegantly arched brow rose and she courteously gestured for Valeris to come. As the doors slid closed behind them, Saavik offered a seat to her and then stepped calmly to a delicate tea set.
"Would you care for refreshment?"
The Vulcan traditional first question asked amongst Houses. Amongst those who had the right to belong here.
It was a question that never once in her entire life had ever been asked to her.
Valeris swallowed hard, lowering her gaze to hide just how literally this meant a world to her. "Thank you," she said hoarsely, trembling. "I would . . . I would be honored."
Saavik went through the ancient process of preparing the tea with a beauty of motion that entranced her completely. Valeris found herself trying to take in everything about the woman, trying to gather it to herself as a child tried to memorize how to behave by watching her elders.
"My name is Valeris," she said suddenly.
Saavik tilted her head, causing her dark hair to fall handsomely over her throat and extended a cup to Valeris. "Be welcome, Valeris."
This time, Valeris knew the emotion was joy. Even as she knew that no matter how very much she wanted to hide it, she could not pretend her all but outcaste state was any more than it was. Not to this woman. It would be an unforgivable social offense. And she would rather bear the shame the required admission brought than offend the only Vulcan who had ever treated her as another Vulcan. But it made her sick to do it. She cleared her throat, gripping her cup hard. "It is Klingon," she said softly.
You see? I do not belong here. I am not one of you.
This was the part when she usually found herself closed out abruptly and she hurried to save herself from being driven out of this one's presence. "But I will change it to be a proper Vulcan. I have the forms-" Valeris abruptly realized that she was talking uncontrolled and bit her lip brutally and stared down at her tea, automatically awaiting the censor she always received when failing to perform again to the Family's approval.
And they had disapproved of even her name.
"Mine is Romulan," came the quiet response.
Valeris' head jerked up, eyes going wide in complete shock. "What?"
"My name is Romulan."
Valeris stared, not believing that this magnificent Vulcan could possibly be telling her what she was hearing.
You once did not belong either!
"But . . . but you did not change it."
Saavik shook her head, a soft faraway look coming into her eyes that Valeris desperately wanted to know more about. "Someone once told me that I was . . . unique. That I must choose my own path." She looked at Valeris and there was no shame in her eyes at the truth of her inheritance. "He said that my name was a part of my uniqueness. As is yours. You would do yourself a disservice to change it."
Valeris felt almost dizzy as her world tried to reform around her. She had to set her tea cup down before she dropped it. It was possible, it was truly possible.
I will be a proper Vulcan!
"I need a teacher," she said suddenly, eyes pleading for the help of one who knew and not giving any thought to pride. "I am . . . I am so very far behind. And," she swallowed thickly, once then twice, "and they . . . they do not want me as I am."
A shadow passed over the other woman's face that Valeris could not interpret, but she saw the understanding in those magnificent eyes and the sudden resolution. "I will make the arrangements," Saavik said quietly.
Valeris covered her mouth with her hand. She could not hide what this meant to her any other way. It took her long minutes to regain her grasp of Discipline. Then she bowed to the other woman and straightened. "I am in your honor debt."
But Saavik shook her head firmly in refusal. "We are friends, such is not necessary."
"We . . . we are?" Valeris' eyes were as wide as they could go.
The amused glint was back in her dark lashed eyes. "Of course. We do know each others name."
Valeris blushed at the sheer enormity of receiving so many priceless gifts from a complete stranger. And was absolutely certain at that moment that she would do anything for this woman. "I . . . I have never had-" she breathed in and shook her head. She turned suddenly anxious eyes upward, to take in Saavik's face. "I do not know if I will succeed in the position!"
Saavik's mouth twitched at the corner. "Patience, only time will determine such." She looked at their now cooled tea and her eyebrow arched. "As we appear to be finished with our tea, tell me, Valeris, would you care for a tour of the city?"
Valeris suddenly hesitated, remembering again with awful dread that the Family shuttle would be coming for her soon.
But Saavik's eyes never wavered, simply waiting her response as if they had been friends for decades rather than moments.
So she took a deep breath and made the decision she knew would change everything at last.
I will find my own way.
The two women walked companionably out into the full heat of Vulcan. But this time, to Valeris, it was at last . . . home. A gentle wind stirred their hair with soft caresses, leaving the scent of the endless red desert upon them and for the first time in her entire life, Valeris felt something that had to be peace.
"Will you tell me of him?"
Saavik lifted her expressive eyes to the sky as if she were looking beyond the great red vault. For a long time she was silent, then she said, "His name is Spock . . . ."
And Valeris began to listen.