I do not own Star Trek or its characters. © of Gene Roddenberry. This is my story. Sarek and Amanda.
Sarek gazed at the woman in front of him, at the small child she held in her arms. His face was stern and lined with age and wisdom, as most older Vulcans, but inside, he was ecstatic. Inside, he felt his heart swell with pride, with care. But he'd never express it, not even to Amanda. Not to this new son. Because he knew, however illogical, that if this new child didn't live up to the high standards of his home, he'd be showing the rest of Vulcan that interspecies breeding simply leads to inadequate offspring. Furthermore, it would look bad for Ambassador to have a derisory child.
His breath came in short, deep intakes as the small creature shifted, its tiny fists punching up out of the confining blanket. Bowing his head infinitesimally, Sarek focused on his son's face, the round nose in the center flaring as their eyes met for the first time. The wide eyes looking back at him were dark, soft, human. They were indeed part of Amanda, simply taking the color of his own. The lines between Sarek's brows deepened as the infant grinned. This was a disgrace, a half-breed that was already, a day after birth, flirting with the line that could lead to humiliation for the family.
"So human," he murmured, almost sure Amanda couldn't hear him. His empty eyes scrutinized the child, his thoughts running from what he should have been feeling to what the rest of Vulcan would think.
"Oh, for Heaven's sake, Sarek!" his wife scoffed, her voice reverberating off of the high ceiling. "Can't you stop being so critical for just one second? Can't you just be happy that the child we made is here with us, healthy and alive? Can't you-?"
"Amanda, peace. You talk of nothing," he stated evenly, his Shakespearean quote easily caught by the woman.
"No, I talk of feelings. You have them, don't you? Because sometimes I really wonder," she replied, taking her eyes off of him only to look at the whimpering baby.
"That is an illogical question as you have already formulated your answer. I have feelings but-."
"'But' nothing! Sarek, can't you just be happy for me? Just…for me, if you're not going to be happy for our son?" Amanda's tone became somber. She began to walk around, rocking the newborn gently.
"You have known how I feel about…him for some time before the birth." Sarek said, clasping his hands behind his back as he watched her steadily pace. Silence blanketed the family as his words set in.
She stopped, looked at him with disbelieving eyes, and slowly shook her head. "Listen to yourself. It's… My G-d! I don't think I've ever heard you like this, not even to keep up appearances in front of this wonderful Vulcan council of yours!" Amanda was on the brink of tears and she clutched the small body close to her chest, "It's a damn shame I ever came here, thinking you'd- Argh!" With her final shriek, the woman strode out, nodding sharply at the incoming Vulcan.
Sarek simply stood and watched her go, paying no mind to what the young messenger was saying. Could he be the disgrace? Not to his people, necessarily, but to his wife, his son? The thought made his face pucker and he waved off the Vulcan at his side. Something pricked at his eyes - tears? The aged Vulcan took a few absent steps after his wife, remembering the days they had shared years ago on Earth. They were, then, happy. He loved to see her smile, the way her eyes twinkled when they were alone together. But now, her rage, her tears, tormented him. How he hated the thought of displeasing her, now matter what his logic said about it being the proper and, well, logical thing to do. Her human emotions shouldn't affect his reasoning but they often did. Contradicting thoughts battled in his head as he inched closer to the door, left slightly ajar by the boy he had dismissed earlier. He looked out into the hall and saw Amanda gazing back, a half-smile playing at her lips. The little form cradled in the crook of her arms cooed softly, grasping air. As Sarek took a step forward, he held out his arms to hold the child he had helped create, help bring into this dry, unforgiving world. The pride he had been feeling earlier stole his breath as his fingers met his son.
His son.
He liked the sound of that.