Jevah woke alone; there was a tray beside the bed holding fruit and cheese and a sweet hot drink. She stretched, considered, and chose luxury; she ate breakfast in bed. She lazed for a while, then got up and showered and dressed. She refreshed the hot drink and sat in the back of the cabin for a while, facing the forest, thinking very little.
You could go, she told herself. You could disappear into the trees. They would never find you. They might not even look. The thought was tempting, like forbidden sweetness, but somehow it did not seem right. What could she bring to the Resistance? Or would she simply get lost and starve in the forest, or fall prey to some hungry animal?
She thought about going, about taking on the fight, but she had been brought up during the Occupation, and passive acceptance had become her key to survival. Doing anything more felt so dangerous that she wasn't sure it was possible. Like a one-legged man dancing, perhaps, or a blind woman becoming a painter. She paused, wondering. Have I become so accustomed to the Occupation that I accept it as normal, and I am unable to break from its confines? Wasn't this exactly what the Cardassians were trying to accomplish? Does that make me a collaborator of sorts? Or just someone who can't break out of the world-view the Cardassians have presented?
Skurs joined her then, carrying a bundle. "I've brought the aircar," he said. "We're going into the mountains."
"Where?" Jevah asked quietly. Her comfort, her enjoyment of the day had been shattered by her own introspection, and she felt emptied out, brittle, fragile.
"It's not far," he said, and pulled her to her feet. She followed in silence, fastening her safety harness, watching out the window as the aircar lifted and turned toward the hills that rose from the trees some miles away.
After a short flight, they landed in a tiny meadow surrounded by rocky outcroppings, and Skurs led Jevah down a lightly-traveled path through the rocks to a wide, flat area consisting of deep pools, most bubbling with heat. The air was warm and humid, and the whole looked like a series of pots set about to cook at different temperatures. "Hot springs," Skurs explained,
He tested the water of the nearest, and pulled away, checked another. "Better," he said, and worked his way along the springs until he found one that suited him.
Jevah dipped her fingers into the water; they felt scalded. "That's too hot for me," she said, and started searching for a more moderate temperature. She found one relatively nearby, and looked around to see Skurs strip off the last of his clothing and step into the pool. She glanced around before draping her tunic and trousers on a rock, and cautiously moved into her chosen pool. She was not used to casual nudity; even in the worker barracks the occupants had pretended not to see each other as they changed clothing or used the communal showers, to provide the illusion of privacy.
After an hour in the water, Jevah was so completely relaxed that she began to fear she would slip under the surface and not have the strength to stand up. She climbed out of the pool and picked up one of the towels Skurs had brought, wrapped it around herself and wandered to his pool. He was sprawled on a flat rocky surface next to the pool; sheets of steam seemed to pour off his body. He groaned, and turned to face her. "I have not been so warm since leaving Cardassia Prime," he said. "I never thought immersion in water could be so pleasant."
"I almost fell asleep," she confessed. "I had to get out for a while. My muscles feel like they have no strength at all."
"I brought a meal, if you want anything; in the bundle there."
Jevah dug through the indicated pile and found a water bottle, and bread wraps folded around a mixture of vegetables and herbs. She brought them back to where Skurs had rolled onto his back, and they shared the meal. "How did you find this place?" Jevah asked.
"I spent some time looking at the promotional material in the lodge. There are many promises of entertainment and excitement, but this one appealed to me."
"What other kinds of things do they offer?"
"A village nearby of craftspeople who have shops open during the summer; they make various foods and articles by hand. Boat tours, forest and nature guided walks, bird-watching, some foolish process of standing on top of a mountain with artificial wings and jumping off. All very nicely presented as ways to separate visitors from their money." Jevah laughed.
"Did anything else appeal to you?"
"No. I am enjoying the quiet here; there is rarely any on the station. We are always surrounded by crowds of people with their own agendas, or with mechanical noises or recycled air. To be here with nothing to accomplish is the most pleasant thing I could be doing." He reached up and stroked her arm; she glanced down at him. "It would be interesting to be intimate here in the open, in the wild," he mused, "but I am too relaxed to put much effort into it."
Jevah scoffed. "That's the first time I recall you being too tired for bed sports."
Skurs grinned, more relaxed than she had ever seen him. "For now," he warned. "There is much of the rest of the day to consider." She laughed, and stood up. Skurs sat up enough to reach the pool and slid back into the water. Jevah wandered around the area for a while, enjoying the quiet, the cool breeze that occasionally blew the steamy air aside, and the quiet. She heard nothing but birds chirping, the quiet burbling of moving water, even the flap of wings as some creature flew overhead. She found a comfortably padded seat on a shaded, moss-covered log and leaned back against a tree to drowse.
By mid-afternoon, Jevah was exhausted, but so utterly relaxed from the hours spent in the hot spring that she could barely walk; her legs were actually wobbly. They had not encountered another person all day. There were a couple of aircars parked nearby when they returned to the meadow, but paths led in all directions, so she decided that there must be a great many springs in the area.
They returned to the cabin and showered, ate an early dinner at the restaurant, and watched the sun set from the edge of the lake, a good distance from any building. Flying creatures hovered over the lake, occasionally diving and flying up with wriggling fish in their claws. Other birds swooped at insects; Jevah saw a large forest herbivore step delicately to the edge of the lake to drink. She nudged Skurs, who watched until the creature returned to the safety of the forest.
When darkness had settled in, they returned to the cabin. Skurs mentioned sitting on the deck near the forest, so Jevah gathered a couple of blankets while he stepped out the back door. She followed him a few minutes later, and froze in delight. Where there had been nothing but the deck, rustic furniture, and an open area, there was now a leaping fire in a stone ring, with a heap of firewood beside it. A wide, comfortable-looking settee was placed nearby, with several pillows. Other chairs were scattered around the fire ring, along with a few small tables.
"What is this?" she asked in wonder.
"Fire," Skurs offered from the settee. "You seemed to find the idea of it appealing, so I arranged for this to be brought in while we were gone."
"Really? You did this for me?" Jevah walked to the settee and sat beside him. "This is—incredible." She hugged him. "That's—thank you." She placed the folded blankets at the end of the couch, and stared at the flames.
Skurs sprawled out facing the fire. "The heat is welcome, I admit, but the flickering light is a bit disturbing."
"Imagine," Jevah whispered, "tens of thousands of years ago, when life was just beginning here, or a million other places. Species of people, crouched around fires, afraid of the dark, telling stories, looking at the stars. Living in primitive conditions, with only tools they could make with their hands."
"I much prefer the present," Skurs said, "but there is a feeling of safety against the dark, being here with a fire." He pulled Jevah down to lie between him and the fire. "You can shade my eyes," he told her. Jevah continued to look into the flames, watching the patterns of light, the waves of heat move over the burning wood, the small shifting as pieces were consumed and fell apart. It was like a meditation exercise; it was some time before she realized that Skurs was pressing against her, and his free hand was moving slowly along her hip.
"Are you recovered, then?" she asked archly. "You were much too relaxed earlier."
"Very recovered," he responded quietly. "It is likely that your ancient peoples spent their time by their fires in such ways. Who am I to disdain tradition?"
Jevah turned to face him, and scooted close. She kissed him, then sat up and tugged off her tunic. "This is much more comfortable than a cave or meadow," she suggested. Skurs rolled onto his back, pulling her onto his chest, and they explored each other, familiar by now with the touches that could bring simmering feelings to a full boil. After some time, Skurs stood and pulled off his clothing, then slipped Jevah's trousers down her hips before moving back to the couch and pulling her atop him again.
She kissed him again, then nibbled and licked his neck ridges until he was shuddering with sensation before moving herself above and onto him. They rocked, moving against each other, Jevah arched above him, seeing his eyes watching her in the flickering firelight. One hand held her close, guiding her movements to match his, the other caressed her breast or neck, running fingers along her jawline or occasionally into her hair to pull her down for deep kisses. Jevah cried out when he released her to nibble along her collarbone; the sensation rising in her was stronger than she'd ever felt, and she finally exploded in release. Skurs shuddered with her, and when she felt him relaxing, she lowered herself slowly onto his chest. When his breathing slowed, she pulled one of the blankets she'd brought over them both, and slipped down to lie next to him, her head on his shoulder.
Drowsing, Jevah heard the noise of twigs snapping, branches moving, coming from the forest. She raised her head in time to see two people emerge from the trees and approach the fire. After a few seconds, she recognized a Bajoran woman and a Cardassian man. In another few seconds her befuddled brain realized the man was the Prefect. She startled, almost leaping up from the couch before remembering she was undressed, and reached frantically for the fallen tunic she'd worn earlier. Skurs, alerted by her movement, also woke, looked around, and jerked into alertness when he caught sight of Dukat and his companion. He slid Jevah aside while she fumbled her tunic over her head, and reached for his trousers under the blanket. Jevah caught a glimpse of Dukat smiling, the lady turning away, and she blushed deeply.
"Prefect," Skurs said when he had pulled on his trousers, "welcome."
Dukat strolled closer to the fire, and Skurs waved him to a chair. "We were walking and heard noises; I regret having disturbed your—quiet time."
Skurs opened his mouth to reply, then stopped himself with an obvious effort. Jevah stood, her tunic flapping around her thighs, looked around for her pants, but could not see them in the flickering firelight. "Would you like a drink?" she asked, desperately seeking to divert attention from their obvious post-coital state.
"Yes, thank you," chirped the woman who had settled into a chair next to Dukat. Jevah realized that this was not Naprem, and turned into the cabin to hide her expression. She had heard that the Prefect liked women—many different women—and the presence of this one seemed to confirm it. She pulled on a longer tunic while inside, and brought out the ever-present bottle of kanar and several glasses. Wine was poured and distributed, and Jevah noticed with amusement that the Cardassians were sitting closer to the fire than she found comfortable.
"I was surprised to see you here," the Prefect was saying. "I was aware that you had taken some leave time, but I had no idea to encounter you here."
"It is a popular place," Skurs noted. "And reasonable in cost for someone of my rank." He smiled slightly. "The hot springs in the mountains are very comfortable."
"We shall have to try them, perhaps?" Dukat addressed the comment to his companion, who merely smiled. "Ah, I have forgotten. This is Jesper Pellis, who is also visiting here." He nodded toward Jevah and Skurs, and spoke their names. Pellis smiled, revealing deep dimples, and nodded her head, then sipped at her drink.
"Have you been here before?" Skurs asked. Jevah sensed that he was straining for conversation; there was little enough in common with Dukat to engage in general talk.
"A time or two. For someone from a desert planet, it is an exotic place to visit."
"It has taken me some time to adjust," Skurs acknowledged. "But I believe I could come to be comfortable in such a place." Jevah was quiet, sipping her wine, her mind desperately searching for some safe topic she could bring, something that would smooth the desperate embarrassment she felt at being caught sleeping next to Skurs in front of a fire.
"We are planning on boating tomorrow," she said, and caught a slightly surprised look on Skurs' face from the corner of her eye. "It is something I've had very little experience with, so we will likely find a guide or someone experienced to accompany us."
"That is not something I think of as entertainment," Dukat said wryly. "Cardassians do not, as a rule, learn to swim."
"But that fear of the unknown can be fun," Jevah said, somehow wanting to challenge him. "Children scare themselves with high places. They scream, but they are having a wonderful time."
"Very small children, perhaps," Dukat acknowledged. "I am too aware of the real dangers of such an activity to find it entertaining."
"Perhaps so," Jevah agreed. "We will let you know how the experience turns out."
Too late she realized she had indeed challenged him, and he rose to it without delay. "We could accompany you," he offered, a glint in his eye showing that he had recognized her words for what they were. "If there is room for more."
"I am sure there is room," she replied with a half-smile. She winced internally: she had committed them both to spending part of a day with Dukat and his companion. It was not the way she had planned to end the awkwardness.
A bird hooted from the forest, and Pellis shivered. "It sounds like the marauder birds from my home district," she explained at Dukat's look. "They are quite fierce and can carry off small animals." Dukat drew her against his shoulder, and glanced at Skurs.
"Perhaps we should finish our walk," he said, and drained his drink. "It is late, and I would not want to disturb you further."
"No disturbance at all," Skurs said weakly, but he rose and gathered an empty glass, handing it to Jevah.
"Good night, then," Pellis offered as she and Dukat turned onto the glowing path that led along the forest edge.
They gathered up the rest of the glasses and the kanar and retreated into the cabin, and Jevah cleaned the dishes and put them away.
"What have I done?" she asked. Skurs looked at her, and his mouth twitched.
"You have arranged for us to spend social time with the Prefect. He intimidates you—he intimidates most people, but he is not someone I would consider a casual acquaintance. Now we must pretend to be that for a day." He smiled openly. "This is not so different from those social gatherings on the station. Not only that, we must go in a boat onto water—and none of us can claim to be uncomfortable or distressed, because we would appear weak."
Jevah laughed hesitantly. "It's funny, in a horrifying way." She looked at him. "I am sorry. I was embarrassed and was searching for something to say."
Skurs came to where she was sitting on a big overstuffed chair. "It is no matter. It will not be a permanent situation. I will find a guide tomorrow who can take us for a limited time. There will be little loss of dignity."
"It's just not how I wanted to spend my first ever vacation," she muttered.
Skurs pulled her to her feet, and kissed her. "It truly does not matter. There is ample time for things we enjoy to compensate for those we do not."
She leaned against him, circling him with her arms. "The fire was wonderful," she said.
"It will be there again tomorrow," Skurs told her.