A/N Hey folks, sorry for the hiatus, real life and such. Also just to remind you that this is an M rated fic written by ME, peddlar of smut, so you can take the events that unfold in this chapter as a hint of what is to come later on in the story.
Dawn approaches and when they emerge from their den to meditate, Nyota surveys the full extent of the damage wrought by the quake in the night. It doesn't seem so bad now and she wonders if it was her mind playing tricks on her, if it wasn't the emotionality of her response warping her perception and making it all seem much worse than it really was. She sits silently on the edge of the bed as Spock recovers their bag from beneath the dust and feels almost ashamed for her weakness, for her Humanity. Spock's face is severe as he plucks her tri-ox hypo from between the shards of broken pottery that litter the floor of their room.
The casing is cracked, the pressurised contents evaporating in an instant when it fell to the ground during the night.
"I have another," he informs her, clutching the broken hypo in his fist and rising to his feet. Nyota licks her lips anxiously and watches as he digs around inside their bag with barely concealed desperation. "It should be sufficient until we reach Shi-kahr." Nyota keeps quiet as he retrieves another much smaller hypo and holds it up almost a little too eagerly for her to see, meeting his eyes with a timid smile.
They help with first meal as is expected and when they enter the dining area Sarin and her father are there, the girl sitting by the fire pit staring into the flames with an absent expression on her face. Nyota silently trails behind Spock as they are dispatched to fetch water, passing the stone pitchers to him as the spring gurgles impotently down a protrusion in the rock into the neck of each jug. When they return Sarin has turned her back to the room and sits staring out at the fading colors of the Watcher as the first sun climbs towards the horizon.
Breakfast consists of hard Vulcan biscuits and Nyota wonders if she's going to break her teeth on them until she observes the other Vulcans dropping them into their tea, letting them soak for a minute before proceeding to eat them with a spoon like a kind of porridge. They are bland but the tea is sweet and Nyota is grateful, thankful for anything that will wash away the taste of those pills.
As they enter the shrine for morning meditation, it seems to her more or less undamaged save for an excess of dust. She sits like a stone and meditates her heart out, although she must admit she is relieved that Sarin and her father remain conspicuously absent. When the gong chimes, Tisek bows at her with mild eyes and she wonders if he senses her apprehension. She bows back at him and attempts to mirror his tranquillity and when they leave, she carries the memory of his gentleness with her into the desert.
Outside the chorka are restless, stomping their feet and grunting loudly as they loiter around on the dust below the steps. They are unsettled by the tremors in the night, eager to escape the confines of the rocks and onto the open desert beyond. They have a long way to go Spock explains briefly; it occurs to her only later that he has hardly spoken all morning and she finds herself wondering what happened to the garrulous man who walked with her by the Golian sea. He settles her on the saddle before moving around the chorka to check that everything is fastened securely in place. She glances ahead, spying Sarin sitting on a chorka and when she meets the young woman's eyes, Sarin looks away and dips her head in what seems to Nyota rather like shame. She chews her lip, the action hidden beneath the veil that covers her face and thinks about cthia. A moment later Spock climbs on behind her and she can't think about it anymore, at least, not for a while.
The chorka lurches forward and Nyota rocks along with the movement of its hips as it plods along, Spock's strong legs and arms around her at once comforting and unnerving. She feels so...
Nyota doesn't let herself dwell on it. If ever there was a time and a place to channel a bit of Vulcan discipline this is it, she tells herself.
They move forward in a slow line towards the narrow gap in the dark cliffs that jut up into the sky. She turns to look back at the sanctuary as they move away through the early morning light, watching the carved facade grow smaller until it finally disappears between the rocks and is lost from sight.
They go slowly, single file along a twisting turning gap in the cliffs and there are times when Nyota worries for the Vulcans riding up front as they pass under archways cut so low in the rock she marvels they don't crack their heads. It's relatively cool... relatively. The chorka are bristling with energy as though they can sense the open sands ahead but the path meanders so wildly through the cliffs they can't really get up any speed and the animals grunt and whine with frustration.
Eventually the path grows wider, a broad sandy avenue littered with boulders and Nyota feels a blast of heat as Vulcan's first sun appears through narrow gaps in the cliffs that branch off here and there and that lead to she knows not where. The dunes can't be far Nyota reckons, that familiar dusty breeze picking up once more but if she thinks they'll soon be out on the sand she is mistaken because after a while they begin to slow, coming eventually to a complete halt. Their chorka snorts impatiently, shrugging its shoulders as though to convey to them its intense displeasure at being forced to stop when all it wants is to run. She bounces in her seat a little and in front Nyota hears a voice shouting, leaning to one side to get a better view as Spock disembarks to go and see what is causing the hold up. He holds his palm against the chorka's snout for a moment as though to communicate that it should keep an eye on her before he disappears up ahead. In front of her, Nyota spies Sarin talking animatedly with her father and when she turns to glance back at her Nyota drops her eyes to her hands and pretends to busy herself with a buckle on her saddle. It's childish perhaps but she's not quite sure how to deal with her...feelings. Spock returns after a few minutes, his handsome face uncovered as he looks up at her.
"The path ahead is blocked," he informs her and Nyota works her jaw back and forth anxiously as he continues. "A landslide in the night."
"What are we going to do?" she asks, her voice muffled by the veil covering her mouth. Spock takes the reigns and begins to guide the chorka back in the direction from which they've just come.
"Go up," is his only reply.
They travel back a distance coming to a halt once more before turning around a large boulder buried in the sand. They trek single file along a narrower path that appears on the other side and after a few minutes Nyota finds herself leaning forward in her saddle as the chorka plods upwards.
Sand gives way to dusty rock as they slowly ascend the cliff, the path growing steeper and steeper and Spock walks beside her as they pass through ever narrower gaps in the rock until eventually it becomes too difficult to ride at all. Spock helps her to the ground and she continues on foot, their steed following along behind. The second sun appears in the sky above and the path grows steeper still, at times so sheer that Nyota has to climb on all fours. She scrabbles over the rocks, turning to take the reigns of the chorka and urge it upwards while Spock shoves the unwilling beast from behind. The chorka whine with displeasure, reluctantly following their Vulcan guides ever higher and Nyota says nothing, valiantly moving onward and upward in spite of the burn in her lungs. It grows hotter, the air gets thinner and the sky above glows a dazzling orange so bright she can't bring herself to look up at it. She focuses instead on the dark rock beneath, the complaints of the chorka and the occasional communication from ahead muffled by the sound of her breathing loud in her ears.
She staggers and Spock is there in an instant, his hand on her arm pulling her back to her feet and if Spock is not there, the chorka is there shoving her along with a butt of its head and an almost sympathetic snort in her ear. She's so thirsty and so tired and its so damned hot that she thinks she going to expire but eventually they near the top. They stop again and Nyota needs no encouragement to sink down onto a boulder, uncaring if it is so hot through her clothes it feels like it might leave scorch marks on her pants. She slouches and in her mind she hears a voice telling her she's crazy for coming here, a feeble Human in the unforgiving Vulcan desert. She lets her eyes fall closed and thinks of Mombasa, the sultry breezes and the blue ocean. She imagines herself staggering down the beach and sinking face first into the water, the waves rocking her over and over until she realizes that it is Spock shaking her. She opens her eyes and peers up at his concerned face.
"Drink," he commands and she complies, tipping the canteen to her lips without hesitation. She drinks and drinks until she can't drink any more, gasping in rapid pants as she opens her eyes and catches her breath. She licks her lips and peers up at Spock but he is silhouetted by the sunlight behind and she can't see his face. She swallows and replaces the cap on the water bottle, forcing herself to stand. As she does so, his eyes come in to focus and she looks right into them and holds his gaze. He stares at her intently but she doesn't flinch and after a minute the tell tale crinkles appear at the corners of his eyes and she smiles at him before sliding her veil back up over her face.
It only takes a minute and they come out onto the top of the cliff, much to Nyota's intense relief and, she realizes as she takes a moment to glance around, unfathomable awe. She stops and turns her head, taking in the entirety of the landscape that spreads out before her. They stand on a ridge of purple rock that stretches out she knows not how far into the distance, sheer cliffs dropping down the to the desert below. To her left lie endless dunes as tall as mountains, sands the color of blood oranges. The twin suns hang low above the horizon, the heat scorching although the long Vulcan day has barely even begun. To her right ribbons of hills ripple over the landscape like waves streaked purple, lilac, pink and red and beyond that, the Llangon mountains stand jutting high into the sky. Crowning it all is the Watcher hanging dead centre, a storm of oranges and browns in the middle of the sky.
Nyota thinks that in spite of the ache in her legs, the last few hours were most definitely worth it, that this entire trip was worth it just for that view. She won't ever forget that sight as long as she lives. She stares, the sound of Vulcan voices fading into the background as she turns her head in a slow semi circle. A hot dry wind gusts in from the desert, salty like the sea and yet completely different. It smells like...thunder, like Kenyan tea masala, like a leaky old cadmium battery, like...Vulcan. A drop of sweat trickles down her forehead but evaporates before it even reaches her brow and she blinks, lightheaded under the fierce sun that she knows is only going to grow even fiercer. When Spock scoops her up and places her back onto the chorka's back she does not resist and when he climbs on beside her, she is comforted by the protectiveness of his arms around her. It makes her feel safe, it makes her feel cherished.
She leans back against his hard body and lets her mind wander, drifting in and out of waking as they ride. She stares at the Watcher and in her mind hears the haunting sound of the dulcimer player and the rattling of the tambours, the stark Vulcan landscape blurring in and out of her consciousness like a dream.
As the suns climb higher in the sky the chorka's pace slows to a plod and they stop again, the Vulcans speaking in rapid voices to one another as they decide the best course of action. They are behind schedule, their pace slowed by the landslide and subsequent climb and over the desert the sky grows hazy as a hot wind gusts down from the Nehfur in the north. Nyota struggles to hear what they are saying and vaguely deciphers that they are debating whether to go down onto the sand or across the hills on the other side. She's not entirely sure yet why they can't decide but when Spock returns he tugs on the chorka's reigns and they start the slow ascent down into the rocky hills that spread out towards the south.
The desert disappears from view but the sweet shade of the cliff is brief as the first sun appears over the brow. The ground dips and rises, the rocky floor undulating beneath them and Nyota feels an odd energy buzz through her limbs. It seems to seep out of the very ground beneath their feet, the air growing tense as they move further south. The chorka don't like the uneven ground and the heat is making them bad tempered but they trek on anyway in spite of the strange foreboding in the air. They pass into a ravine between two long ridges of rock and a hot wind blows hard in their faces, channelled by the hills on either side. Sand gusts up like sleeting rain, slapping against the saddle and stinging her hands. The chorka grow restless and eventually they come to a halt as the wind becomes more severe.
As the wind grows stronger still, Spock dismounts to lead the chorka onwards on foot. The other Vulcans do the same and she screws her eyes up as the sand begins to swirl through the air in front of her, stinging the exposed skin of her face and hands. It grows more severe as they move until she can barely see the chorka in front. The animals call to each other in the dust and below she can just see Spock raise his arm in front of his face, the visibility growing ever poorer as the wind howls past her ears. When she hears the distant crack of sandfire she shivers, a frisson of panic rippling through her. She calms herself with several long slow breaths, carrying out a silent meditation and attempting to summon a stillness she does not truly feel. She tries not to feel at all but it's difficult. She's so tired and so thirsty and it's so damned hot that she just wants to curl up and hide but she's not so sure she wants to go to ground, the memory of airless caves and cramped passages in the rock still too fresh in her mind.
The sandstorm becomes a tempest and they are forced to seek shelter, their Vulcan guides leading them to a cave nestled behind a boulder. One of the monks scouts ahead inside the cave, checking for sehlats and other such beasts. When he returns she hears the rapid bark of Vulcan and Spock helps her dismount to ushers her through the gap in the rock ahead of him, leading the chorka in behind. As she moves inside it grows darker and darker, the passage narrower and narrow, her breath growing more laboured as claustrophobia sets in. It is loud in her ears until ahead of her she sees the flashing of flint as someone lights a torch – except it's not a torch like she's ever seen. A Vulcan monk holds a small glowing crystal between his finger and his thumb, dropping it into a lamp and twisting the casement around until the crystal becomes blurred and the lantern begins to radiate a soft light. He repeats the action with another crystal and Nyota takes in the undulating walls of the cave, the foreign Vulcan geology rippled with bands of shimmering metals, purple and red stalagmites and stalagtites jutting up and down. It is beautiful, she thinks, like every fantasy of alien worlds she'd ever had as a child lying on the grass in her parents garden staring up at the stars.
The Vulcans urge the chorka to sit and the great beasts seem more than willing to comply, bundling up close together and leaning their heads over eachother's backs in a gesture that they seem to find comforting. Nyota has by now moved past the strangeness of their appearance and finds the whole thing unbearably sweet. Spock guides her deeper into the cave, passing through a gap in the rock and coming into another chamber deeper underground. Inside the walls are carved with glyphs so ancient that they are virtually unreadable and she wonders for how many centuries people have taken shelter here. She sits, Spock ushering her into a nook in the wall and she watches as one of the monks gathers up rocks and carries them back along the passage that leads to the outside. Spock sinks down beside her, pulling his hood down and Nyota blinks at him, taking in the comparative scruffiness of his appearance. His jaw is stubbled and his hair askew and he looks nothing at all like the impeccably groomed Starfleet officer she first met in San Francisco but he's still her Spock, her beautiful freak. The clank of rocks reaches her ears as the entrance to the cave is sealed and when sandfire gleams along the passage, she swallows around the lump in her throat.
It is still in the cave and she is thankful for the serene presence of the Vulcan monks, their heads bowed in meditation as the storm rages on outside. Time passes, she doesn't know how long and the sandfire whips and cracks and the wind howls. Nobody speaks, the chorka shift uneasily and Nyota snuggles imperceptibly closer to Spock. There is the hiss of sandfire crashing against the makeshift door and Nyota snaps her head towards the sound, pulling her knees up against her chest. Spock peers down at her and she pretends not to notice, unwilling to let him know how terrifying she finds it all.
It shouldn't be terrifying.
Nyota wants to feel exhilarated, in a way part of her does but it's all so...alien. She feels strange, weary and yet wired, asleep and awake and she's so scared of giving away to much, so conscious of her Human frailty in the midst of the fierce Vulcan wilderness. Maybe she's not as adept at hiding her emotions as she wants to be or maybe it's just because he can sense it, but Spock gently puts an arm around her. She leans against him a little way and a moment later he guides her down to lie with him, hidden from view by a ridge in the rock. The storm is loud but her breathing seems even louder but when she tries to calm herself she just starts to shiver. Spock pulls her closer against his body and rolls towards him, her body aligning against his and her face pressed into the crook of his neck.
His breath is hot against her ear and she gulps, his hand brushing over her hip as he pulls her closer still. The intimacy of the act surprises her but then, it is dark and they are hidden from sight in the rocks. She is grateful, trembling and ashamed because of it because she's better than this, she's stronger than this. She's going to be an officer damn it, she's taken nearly every endurance test that Starfleet has to offer and she never felt quite how she feels now. Feeble, vulnerable, Human. Maybe that's why Spock brought her here, she muses. Maybe. Or perhaps there was another reason.
His breathing loud to her ears and she tenses slightly when she feels him unmistakeably hard against her. There is a shuffle of sound across the cave and she tenses. Spock goes still, his eyes darting to towards the sound and Nyota gulps, digging her teeth into her lower lip. She is vaguely aware of the flicker of shadow across the ceiling and she screws her eyes up with embarrassment. She rolls away from him to stare at the rockface beside her, shivering but not with cold. A moment later, Spock follows and presses against her from behind and shielding her from view with his body.
His hand slides under the hem of her shirt to caress the skin of her back with strong fingers and she gulps. His touch sends waves of sensation through her, of emotions so alien she shudders. Something dark and possessive seeps out of his fingers into her and she is both comforted and frightened by it. Is this her Spock? She closes her eyes as his tongue snakes out and laves wetly across her ear, his hand on her throat tugging her head back until her neck is exposed. She bites her lip as his fingers dig hard into her hip and his mouth fastens on her collarbone. She whimpers a little, screwing her eyes up as she stifles her cries as he bites her hard. Her back arches and her mouth falls open, her face contorting with a silent scream as he grinds against her, his lips on her skin. She grips his thigh hard, her nails digging into his leg through his pants. She's going to have a mark, she knows it as he sucks hard on the place where his teeth dug into her neck. When she twists her neck to peer up at him, the look in his eyes is fierce and wild and she pants, trying to stifle the rasping gasps of breath that escape her. She writhes a little, trapped as she his between his hard body and the wall and as he tightens his grip on her, she trembles even harder. Spock grits his teeth, his hand coming up to her cheek and brushing across her face. She feels the gentle tingle of his mind, a small soothing pulse rippling out him into her and she sighs, melting against the rock beneath. She lets him roll her over onto her back and then he is pulling her closer again. His stare is dark in the shadows of the cave and she screws her eyes up, his nose pressing against hers for a moment as his hand reaches up once more to her cheek. She lets out a long, slow breath as his teeth catch her lower lip and his fingers press against her face and then he's with her.
The things he shows her seem sharply at odds with the Vulcan stoicism that everybody sees and even though she knows that there is more to these people than that it still shocks her a little. She's shocked that he seems to like it, her vulnerability and her fragility and the feeling she gets from him is so masculine and primitive it makes her head spin. Her logical Spock, her passionate Vulcan with the Human eyes. Nyota supposes it's because it feels so wrong, so wicked to be doing this here that she's tingling with desire, that or maybe it's coming from Spock she isn't sure. His eyes rolls back in his head and she nips at his jaw bone, making his nostrils flare. His lips curl up to reveal his teeth and he peers at her with lust addled eyes, Human eyes. His hand slides down to cup between her legs and she gasps. Spock leans closer and slips his tongue into her mouth for a second, sucking on her lower lip before holding it between his teeth. She is transfixed by the look in his eyes, his fingers coming away from her cheek to press between her lips. She closes her mouth around them, cradling his middle and index fingers on her tongue and his whole body twitches a little, his eyes narrowing and his expression almost exactly what it is when he's just about to come. He cups her head in one hand and slowly pulls his fingers out of her mouth, nudging her with his nose and pressing a kiss to her lips. He holds her close and they stay like that for a long time, the storm seeming much less terrifying now until eventually she falls asleep, her whole body singing with the promise of what is to come.