The Hearths of My Kin

2295.714

Emma was deep in thought when her comm-unit roused her back to reality. She answered, greatly pleased to see her father's face on the view screen. He smiled at her, his dark green eyes sparkling at his only child.

"My girl! How are you?" his deep bass rumbled loudly.

"Haló Da, I am well. You? How's Mum?"

In the background she heard her mother shout a greeting.

"She would be civil and come say hello, but she's kneading bread dough at the moment. I don't want to have the repairman come out to fix that a second time." He laughed.

Her mother was heard threatening him mildly for defaming her character in front of their daughter.

"This is unexpected, it's not Sunday afternoon," Emma said, feeling a bit ornery.

"You see, that is why you got the doctorate. You can read a calendar. It makes me so proud," he said, feeling feisty.

Emma knew that meant all was well on the Isle. She scoffed at him and laughed.

"I wish to inform you The Progeniture has been asked to perform at the Edinburgh Tattoo next month. It's late, but they have made time on the final night for us. The Chief asked if you'd be with us."

"What is the date of the performance?" she asked, accessing her calendar. "I would love to perform with the clan guard. It's been too long."

"Indeed it has. It'll be the last Saturday night performance, umm, the 24th," he replied. "Also, they know about your being named laureate, and I think they are feeling rather prideful that the first Terran appointed is a Scot."

He loved his daughter dearly, but wished she were closer. A lot of time had passed since she had been home, and he was not getting any younger.

"My schedule is clear most of that week, except for my regular students. What if I come in on Wednesday the 21st?" she offered.

"That should be fine. I will get the music to you by tomorrow evening, ok?"

"That's fine, Da. How's the rest of the family?"

"Everyone's fine. Skye's always beautiful."

"Ok, well, please tell everyone hello for me."

"Will do. Emma?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I love you dearly, child. I am looking forward to seeing you," he said. He leaned into the comm-unit, lowering his voice. "Um, your mother misses you, a lot. Do you think you might come home more often? I know she would never say; she's not wantin' ya to feel bad about it or anything."

He got quiet as Anna walked in drying her hands off on a kitchen towel, showing them for his approval.

"Hello Emma! I managed to get dough inside the thing last time."

She fussed at Will a moment. "Would ya go away? Can I not speak to my daughter alone?" she teased.

He grumbled, waved at Emma and then left the room.

"Hi Mum. Da's feeling his oats today I see."

"Yeah, he is. About that," she said quietly into the comm-unit, "do you think you might be able to find time to visit more frequently? I only say 'cause your father does miss you. It bothers him to not see you very often.

Emma sat back, pondering the conspiracy that was taking place. Rather than question them, she decided to comply. "I will endeavor so, Mum," she conceded.

"I, erm, he'd love that. Anyway, gotta go, and we will see you in August," she said, and blew a kiss at Emma, ending the call.

Emma looked at the blank screen. They could play her like a cheap guitar, and they knew it, but five years was too long. She sent a message to each student whose lesson was affected by the change that week, and then stepped into Soran's office to find he was not there. Sarek's office door was open, so she knocked gently.

Sarek saw her standing in the doorway. They had met regularly for months now, and often his mind would not only engage in the conversation, but simply take in her intelligence. He presented her with many well-prepared arguments to extend the time they had. He thougth she had become aware of this, but was uncertain she would understand why. Certainly she would have made it clear if she did not prefer it.

Each meeting, conversation, opportunity was a fresh breath of life in his private world. He had an acceptable understanding of Terran history, but hearing it from her perspective – well, it was new. He sought time with her beyond the scope of her duties, and she obliged each request he made of her, giving no indication that it was burdensome.

"Enter, please," he invited.

"Sarek, forgive the intrusion, but I need to reschedule our meeting of 21 August," she said softly. She noticed he had begun using human pleasantries with her in the past few months.

"You commit no intrusion. May I ask why you must reschedule?" he asked, opening his calendar. He found it decidedly unsatisfactory to miss one now, as a major trade negotiation would already interfere with their entire September schedule.

"I've been invited to perform with my clan's honor guard at the Edinburgh Tattoo that weekend. I'll also see my family for the first time several years, so I plan to be there a few days."

"Would Tuesday the 20th be acceptable? I am in contract negotiation at Starfleet Headquarters that day," he said scanning his availability. "Would an evening appointment be acceptable?"

"Certainly, and thank you," She smiled and left.

2295.820

At her lunch break, Emma sent a message to Sarek, confirming their appointment for that evening.

I thought perhaps we could share end-meal this evening during our appointment. Please advise if this is acceptable.

Emma

She doubted herself for the message, when a reply came almost immediately. She looked at it, afraid it would be a rejection. Either way, at least she would know if she had been inappropriate.

I would be honored. I shall meet you at your quarters.

Sarek

She felt heat flush across her face, and smiled privately.

At the end of her day, she went looking for Savel and found him at the primary security desk.

"Excuse me, Savel," she said quietly.

"Yes, O'savensu?"

"I will travel to Scotland from Wednesday through Sunday evening. May I have your permission to request T'Naara care for my cat while I'm away?" she asked.

"My daughter has quite an affinity for him. She will attend him appropriately," he replied.

"Thank you, Savel," she smiled.

He inclined his head to her and returned to his duties monitoring the security feeds as Emma sent T'Naara a message regarding Jake's needs for the duration of her journey. She knew the child would rigorously see to his health and care while she was away.

Stepping into the hallway, Sarek's nose twitched at the smell of a preferred casserole. He followed the wafting scent to her door and knocked. She welcomed him inside.

"Would you care for anything to drink?" she asked.

"Water, please."

He stepped into her living room, perusing the shelves of photographs that stood at its entrance. He recognized her father Will from years past in the diplomatic corps, and for the dark green eyes she had clearly inherited. Her uncle Ken was in another with a lovely woman, a son, and a daughter.

There were various photos of Emma as a baby. One that grabbed Sarek's attention was of Will lying supine, with six–month-old Emma sitting proudly on his chest looking quite satisfied, red fuzz on her head and a toothless grin. 'Emma Conquers Da, July 2257'.

He gingerly picked up a faded photograph taken in the moments after Emma's birth. An exhausted, happy Anna held her moments-old daughter, who was visibly smiling up at her.

Examing each picture carefully, Sarek realized that Emma had entered the universe with a most pleasing disposition. Her joy permeated life, surrounding her family. He realized that particular interaction - that endearing, engaging smile - was only shared with those she regarded affectionately.

He then understood that she gave it freely to him each day. Perhaps it was not of the question.

She walked quietly into the living room with his glass in hand to find him absorbed in the photographs. "Your water," she said, handing him the glass.

"You strongly resemble your mother, but inherited your father's eye color."

"Yes, and his build, unfortunately; he is six feet three inches tall," she chuckled.

He found her build to be satisfactory, not understanding the perception of misfortune.

She gestured toward the seating area, and after he sat on the sofa, she curled up in her favorite chair. They began a conversation about the effects that global pandemics and a world war had on the Terran artistic community from 1900 through 1918, then moved to the dining area when the time announced their meal ready. Eating in silence was still something that she still was not entirely accustomed to.

Afterward he asked about her homeland. "Edinburgh is in the southeast of Scotland?" he asked.

"Yes, in the lowlands," she replied. His scent permeated the room, and she mentally indulged in it.

"Where is Edinburgh in relation to your home?"

"Skye is one of the larger islands that make up the Inner Hebrides, off the far west coast of the highlands. It is directly across the Strait of Kyle Akin, from Urqhart Castle. Would you mind if we moved to the den?"

Sarek followed her back to the living room and watched her expertly light the firepot. He found her wardrobe quite pleasing: a muted heather blouse that slightly revealed the definition of strong shoulders, the softness of her back, and the gentle slope of her breasts.

Her faun trousers settled gently on her hips just below her waistline, and he promptly brought his mind back to where he deemed it should be as she sat in her chair. It was very quiet for a moment.

"Sarek, have you received any feedback from the students? It is difficult to get input from them," she asked him.

"It is uncustomary to criticize the behavior and methods of their instructors, unless those actions are illogical or irrational," he began. "However, I have spoken with each of them over the past several months, and they are satisfied with the instruction they receive from you."

"Oh, I see. Would you share any of the ideas they might have had?"

"They have one consistent comment on your teaching methods. Each of them expects greater challenge than you provide. I believe this due to your lack of experience teaching Vulcans." He paused, thinking for a moment. "It is ironic that they seek from you what you have always sought from your own teachers: a greater challenge."

"Indeed," she answered. "I never thought of it that way. I can provide them with much more, and that is certain."

"I have a question on a different topic, if I may," he began. "How does one gain entrance to the tattoo this Saturday night?" he asked.

"Well, one doesn't, at least not now. The tattoo sells out well in advance, often several years so. Why?"

"The Madrossian trade negotiation schedule has been moved three weeks later than originally planned. I saw an opportunity to satiate my curiosity regarding Terran military pageantry," he answered.

His words fell on her ears like manna from Heaven. She built up her courage and spoke, willing herself to remain at ease, at least visibly. "I think I may have a possible option: you would be a welcomed guest of our clan," she said evenly. "My family would be honored by your visit."

"Your travel arrangements?"

"I was going to take public transport to Ireland and then shuttle over in the morning," she replied.

"We shall utilize the embassy shuttle.?"

Piloting the shuttle in over the western coast of Scotland, toward the port city of Kyleakin, Sarek noted the stunning beauty of the land beneath them: sharp, rocky hillsides of extraordinary green, with intense purple heather scattered across the landscape. The sapphire blue sky was dotted with soft, white clouds speckled by the flight of seagulls.

He glanced at an escarpment near the landing pad to see several puffins lined up on the edge looking down at them. He had read about them as he researched the Hebrides, but had never seen them in their natural environment.

Emma looked out of the shuttle window as they made their final approach to land. The beauty of her homeland had faded in her memory, and this renewal was a welcomed relief: the water, tidy, white-washed homes, the black peat coastline, fishing boats docked and quiet.

Once the shuttle landed, she disembarked and then closed her eyes and took a deep breath of fresh air. She reached down and pick up her bag, walking toward her family waiting just off to the side.

"Emma, welcome home," Will said, hugging her tightly. "It's been far too long."

"Thanks, Da." She turned to Sarek.

"Sir, this is my father, William McLeod, and my mother, Anna."

"Peace and long life, Dr. McLeod," Sarek said, raising his hand in the ta'al.

"Welcome to Skye. Please call me Will. It's good to finally meet you. All my years in the Diplomatic Corps and it takes a visit here to have a conversation," Will laughed, congenially.

"Indeed. I thank you for your hospitality."

"Welcome," Anna smiled at him. "We are very happy you have come to visit with us."

Sarek saw where Emma's beauty came from. Her mother was graceful, soft spoken, and gentle. Emma certainly reflected those qualities.

"I am Anna, by the way. The rest of the family will be at the house for supper tonight. Em, I am so glad to see you, Darling."

Sarek watched as she cupped her daughter's face in her hands, planted a kiss on her forehead, and hugged her.

Fifteen minutes later, the flitter pulled into the drive at Emma's family home. Five years had been too long. She stood and looked at the ancient house, a family icon for more than nine generations. It seemed to smile at her in welcome. Her mother stood next to her, putting her arm around her daughter's waist.

Will had been explaining the family history of the land and home to Sarek, but stopped midsentence and observed them. Sarek looked to see what had distracted him so, and understood. The McLeod women were standing side by side, arms around each other's waists, hips cocked off to the right side.

"I love those women," Will said, half to himself.

The men continued toward the back of the house. Will was particularly eager to show Sarek the family garden. It had been designed to utilize a condensation catchment model developed on Vulcan that eliminated ninety-three percent of water loss in irrigation.

Anna turned to Emma and said, "Emma, I love this house; but, I love that you are here even more. Would you please check the bread in the oven and take his bags up?"

Emma walked in, greeted by the smell of Anna's famous rye bread. She took it out of the oven and set it to cool on the counter. The comm-unit chimed loudly, startling her. She walked to the unit to find it covered in flour, with dried rye dough on the keypad. She cleaned it off as she answered it.

"Emma! You're early! How'd you get here so fast. I thought you'd be in late afternoon." Her aunt Murron smiled at the sight of her.

"The ambassador asked to view the tattoo Saturday, and was kind enough to shuttle us in this morning," she answered.

Murron look at her pointedly.

"What?"

"Hmm. Where is your mother?" She asked, her gaze scrutinizing her neice.

"They're showing Sarek the gardens," she said.

"He has a name, I see," she said, smiling at her.

Emma looked at her carefully, remaining silent. She knew never to give any information to Murron… she was wicked smart.

"Emma, what is going on with him?"

"Nothing, Murron, seriously," she said. That did not mean she wasn't hopeful of it, though.

"Fine, don't talk then - I'll find out sooner or later. Tell your mother the lamb will be done by 1700 hours," she instructed.

Emma nodded, and her aunt continued. "So, he's a Vulcan?" she asked.

"What's your point?"

"Simply that he's vegetarian, and I will bring a good assortment of veggies for him this evening – unless someone else would like to cook for him."

She was enjoying this far too much.

"Goodbye."

Emma was only mildly disgusted by the teasing, and yes, she wanted to cook for him. So what? She only hoped it was not that obvious to everyone else. Glancing out the window, she saw them walking through the gardens, Will doing what her mother called 'waving of arms and pointing at things importantly'.

Picking up Sarek's bags, took them to the guest room on the second floor, set out an electric teapot on the desk and filled it with water, restocking the selection of teas to include a Vulcan variety from the embassy.

Then she went to her room. Her mother's sense of nostalgia had not waned over the years: the awards she'd received in school were still on the shelf over her desk, the pictures Emma had drawn for them still on the walls. She drew back the curtains, opening the windows allowing fresh air into the room as she made her bed.

Sarek found himself again enjoying Terran architechture. The door opened to a keeping room with the largest fireplace he had ever seen. Made of tremendous hearthstones, it filled the entire north wall. He investigated a basket filled with soft, brown bricks and an unusual, earthy scent. He then turned to the two walls with full length built-in book cases.

The shelves were completely filled with books, herilooms, and pictures. Deciding that taking many photographs was evidently an inherited trait in this particular family, he looked at them tracing their line back for what he deemed to be seven or eight generations. After satisfying his curiosity of the familial history on display, he ventured into the kitchen to find Anna humming to herself as she prepared dinner. He surmised that Emma had gotten her voice from her mother as well.

"Pardon me, Anna," he said quietly.

She startled, and then laughed. "Sorry, I was in my own little universe. What can I do for ya?"

"Which room will I occupy? I would meditate before end-meal."

"Of course; you're up the stairs, left down the hall, last door on the left. The bathroom is the door just before yours. Please let me know if you are in need of anything, ok?" she said softly.

"Understood," he said quietly.

He followed her instructions to his room, finding his bag, towels, and an assortment of Terran and Vulcan tea available for him. He activated the electric teapot and selected theris-masu. In her room, Emma smiled as the scent of his favorite herbal tea wafted across the hall.

Dinner with the McLeod family was an experience. Will, Ken, and Sarek were settled comfortably in discussions of diplomacy and interstellar policies when Ken and Murron's youngest, Jenny, came bursting in the door.

She just stood there and stared at him for a moment. No one said anything about a random Vulcan being at dinner. More to the point, there had never been a specific Vulcan at dinner either.

"Jenny, ya born in a barn? Shut the door. You're lettin' the heat out," Ken chided sternly.

Looking quite embarrassed, she apologized profusely and closed the door, rejoining the family.

Anna arrived from the kitchen with a plate of food for her. "Jenny, you know dinner was an hour ago. We were getting concerned," Anna said.

Murron spoke up. "Ambassador Sarek, this is our youngest, Jenny." She turned and spoke directly to her daughter. "Jenn, you have some manners, correct?"

"Hello. My name is Jenny, and contrary to popular opinion at present, I do in fact have manners. Welcome to Skye," she answered.

"I thank you," he responded, fascinated by the family's interactions with the wayward teen.

Will spoke up next. "Jenny, answer your aunt, please."

"Well, I went to Portree to the mail distribution center. I was able to convince them to look for any news of my test results." She held up an envelope in her hand.

"It finally came, but I had to take the last shuttle back into Kyleakin. I got here as fast as I could," she finished.

"So," Emma began, "what's it say then?"

"I don't know." Jenny answered.

"Uhm, you didn't open it?" Emma asked, serving herself another half potato.

"I can't. Da…" Jenny handed the envelope to him.

Ken opened it and began reading, frowning and grumbling to himself. Jenny's arms were propped up on the table and her head was in her hands waiting. Sarek looked at Emma, confusion on his face.

"Jenny took examinations to exit her secondary education program. She's been waiting a long time for the results," Emma said.

"These are of importance?" he asked.

"Yes. They determine where you go, and what you study," she finished.

Ken cleared his throat and then paused, reading a page for the third time. Jenny groaned quietly.

"98th percentile in math and chemistry. Stellar cartography 99th, and perfect in physics. Well done, my daughter." Ken beamed at her.

The family applauded her efforts. She exhaled heavily and finally began to eat. Sarek's curiosity was piqued.

"May I inquire as to your interest in physics?" Sarek asked.

"Astrophysics is what I really enjoy, and I'd like to study that," she answered between bites. "It's worth the effort."

Sarek began to think about her situation, but was interrupted by the buzzing of the comm-unit. Will got up from the table to answer, returning a moment later.

"Ann, I love ya, but you're gonna be the death of that unit," he quipped, cleaning flour from his hands. "The Chief calls for a gathering. Sarek, it'll be an emotional experience combined with drinking, so if you wish to stay here, it's no insult, but ya might find it enlightening. The McLeods have inhabited this Island for more than 1,400 years undisturbed. We get our pride on."

"I am honored. Will this take place indoors?"

"Yes and no. We usually walk to the pub, and it gets chilly at night, so you may need warmer robes."