LAVENDER
by SlwMtionDaylite
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I own nothing. Paramount, et al. own all. I really wish they would let me borrow Spock for a while though.
Rating: K
Genre: Angst
Characters/Pairing: Spock/Uhura, Spock/OC
Word Count: 1,080
ORIGINALLY WRITTEN FOR THE SPOCK/UHURA LJ COMMUNITY'S SECRET SANTA. For cleojones.
Summary: It was so strange. Though she was such a vital part of his life for so long...she had been apart from him even longer.
Here is the prompt I was given. :)
WANT:
I want a fic about an older Spock remembering Nyota (who is now dead).
I want it to be all about his thoughts.
It can be a quickie, if you like. And I'd like there to be some trigger, some object, thing, taste, or smell; something that just sort of sets him down this path.
DON'T WANT:
Things I don't want? I think it would be interesting to have him in another relationship, so I don't want him alone. Not too long, keep it under 10,000 words.
And...Hmm. No huge reveal of the emotions he's having. Kept it subtle and sweet.
His useless eyes opened slowly as he took in the new scent permeating the room. It smelled familiar, so familiar, but he could not recall the name. And it frustrated him.
"Adun'a," he called out, raising a hand slightly. Almost immediately, he felt someone clasp his hand and the bed shifted slightly with added weight. His mind was quickly flooded with affection and devotion, warming him, calming him.
"Ha, adun? What is it that you need?"
"That scent. What is it?" Spock asked, quietly. He took several deep breaths and allowed it to tickle the deepest recesses of his mind. It still bothered him immensely that he could not put a name to it. It was a most pleasing scent. Light, teasing the olfactory senses and yet, not so heavy as to overwhelm.
"Pulu-lur. Lavender. A type of flowering plant that is native to the Mediterranean region to tropical Africa into the southeast regions of India on Earth. You requested the scent during one of your -" There was a brief moment of silence as she contemplated her phrasing, as to save him from the embarrassment. Finally, she said, "Difficult moments."
"I see," Spock replied, his tired eyes closing.
Though he could not see his wife, he knew she was tilting her head to the side in curiosity, as he felt confusion and hesitant delight sweep over him through their connected hands. "You see? Am I to understand you have regained your eyesight, despite the doctors' prognoses?"
Spock shook his head. "I apologize, V'Lan. I am forgetful that the human colloquialisms are unfamiliar to you. I merely meant to inform you that I understood your statement."
"I understand, adun."
Spock's lips quirked into the little half-smile he was prone to show. V'Lan made no comment on his brief show of emotion - not that he expected her to – for she had long grown accustomed to seeing his half-smiles during the eighty-one years, five months… - his memory faltered again – that they had been bonded. He was several decades older than her and occasionally, he could not help but believe their bond was unfair to her. V'Lan, however, was always quick to point to the illogicality of this and dismiss it.
"I…I do not believe it will be much longer," Spock said.
There was a moment of silence before V'Lan spoke again. "Would you be accepting of visitors? I believe a number of your gazhlar is here."
Spock squeezed his eyes closed. "Not at the present time, V'Lan. Perhaps later in the day."
"As you wish, adun." Spock felt her raise herself from the bed. "I shall allow you to rest. I will return afterwards."
"Shaya tonat," he said. V'Lan released his hand and the swell of emotions that stirred between their joined hands simmered down but did not completely die.
Spock heard the door slide close and relaxed himself against the pillows. He took another deep breath of the lovely lavender scent. Illness and age had stolen his sight from and had ravaged his memory - thankfully, it had bypassed his emotional control and intelligence - but the lavender teased his mind, needling him to recall some distant memory. He struggled to remember.
He knew, despite no longer being able to see out of the window, that he was on Earth, as he had been for years, since his retirement from Starfleet. He was in Africa, to be more precise. Kenya. He had retired there, wanting to remain with family. He had met V'Lan during one of her many visits to study the wildlife native to the country.
They had bonded out of biological necessity.
It was only later when necessity borne a deep devotion and love, though they had no children. He was deeply thankful for her presence every day. She had given him what no other Vulcan had given him: unwavering acceptance.
But V'Lan was not solitary in that regard.
Spock opened his eyes again. Though he had grown accustomed to the constant darkness that accompanied him, it was a never ending source of irritation. But...it would only be a short time before it ceased to be a concern. Age had finally taken its toll on him. And his failed eyesight and weak memory reminded him that he was half-human.
A warm breeze flowed into the room through the open window – open at his request – and the smell of lavender strengthened. He could vaguely recall the flower garden that was outside that particular window. In it was lavender.
Her scent.
It was so strange. Though she was such a vital part of his life for so long and still was, she had been apart from him even longer.
His Nyota. His k'diwa.
His illness was kind enough to not lay claim on the memory of her face. It still allowed him to remember.
For this, he was grateful.
Age, too, had claimed her nearly a century ago. He could recall an incident so…similar to his current one. Her request for the relaxing scent. His holding her when she grew fearful, crying out. Her begging him to not live his life alone.
"Promise me, Spock. Promise me."
He did.
He could never deny his Nyota anything.
It had not been easy for him when she passed. The sudden severance of their bond...even now he loathed to think of it.
It took him over twenty years.
Another deep breath – he noted his breathing was growing increasingly difficult – and another whiff of the lavender.
It was her favorite scent. It could be found in her shampoo, her conditioner, her lotion. He had long grown accustomed to associating lavender with her.
She, who began as the student, soon became the teacher. And he, the eager pupil.
A shuddering breath and Spock wished to see them again. And before he could even get word out, the door opened again and his wife, having sensed his desire through their connection, entered. Trailing behind her, his gazhlar.
Through the miracle of science and love, Nyota and he bore children. Through the curse of his Vulcan blood, he witnessed their funerals and his grandchildren's funerals. Today, their descendants, his progeny would be here for him.
He felt several of the smaller children climb on the bed with him. Others, the older ones, intertwined their hands with his. And he felt his eyes close. It would be for the last time.
His k'diwa, his beautiful Nyota, taught him many things.
But the most important thing was love.
Translations:
Adun'a – wife
Adun – husband
Ha – yes
Pulu-lur – lavender
Gazhlar – progenies/descendents
Shaya tonat – Thank you
K'diwa – beloved