The Ears of the Elves
By Asso
Chapter Thirty-six
The calm before the storm.
The Ears of the Elves
Chapter Thirty-six
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"Well, I must really admit it."
T'Pol pricked up her ears. One might say that if they had not already been pointy, they would have become so.
"What do you have to admit, my Lord?"
The voice, to be honest, sounded a little uncertain. The fact was that T'Pol never knew well where her ineffable Adun was getting at. And... well... there was always to be on the alert, with him.
"That you're right."
"Ah." T'Pol could not hold back herself. "Actually, my Lord... I ask your pardon if I can sound disrespectful, but there's to believe that this is a matter of fact. I mean that I'm right."
Trip laughed heartily. "Respectful and obedient and docile vulcan wifey, eh? Sure, sure. But still vulcan, it goes without saying." The laughter subsided, but Trip's voice seemed to laugh per se. "But, on the other hand, why should it not be so? You are a vulcan female." There was a slight laugh again. "And just me, I asked for it! And, incredibly, I still want it! And more and more, in addition! A further demonstration of what I see myself forced to admit."
"My Husband and Lord ..." T'Pol rose a little, to look with slightly worried eyes at Trip. Worried and rather confused, in truth, a reflection of the confusion of her mind. But what the hell did he mean, her sybilline Adun? "Please. I'm sorry. I ..."
"There's nothing to apologize, little doll. You are right in saying you're right. Otherwise, what kind of Vulcan would ever you be ever?"
T'Pol, a tad quieter, but not too much, actually, and not exactly sure of what her human roguish Adun wanted really to mean, resettled herself in her position. "Glad to hear you say it and to know that I haven't irritated you, my Husband and Lord."
Then curiosity got the upper hand. "But, I pray, my Lord, apropos of what, would I be right, right now?"
The PADD down again, Trip lowered his head and, very rapidly and for a briefest moment, in order to avoid the triggering of dangerous mechanisms, he rubbed his lips on the tip of T'Pol's pointy ear, thing which, however, despite its fleetingness, did not fail to make literally tremble deliciously with pleasure the aforecited respectful vulcan wifey.
"You always say, my sweetness, that Humans tend to act on impulse, regardless of the consequences." He smiled. He knew she could not see his smile, given her… peculiar position, but he was more than sure that it was as if she could see it. "And, if I remember correctly, you say that I am the veracious mirror of this way of doing."
T'Pol shifted uncomfortably on top of Trip. "Trip, my husband..."
"Oh, you're right. Again, you're right, honey." Trip gently kissed T'Pol's hair. "I'm really a difficult person. Good thing there's you. But - well! - you've really your work cut out, with me, huh, sweetheart?"
T'Pol basked in Trip's embrace. In the warmth of his closeness. "It's not an unpleasant job, Husband."
"Is it not?"
"No. Not at all."
Trip's laughter warmed T'Pol's ears and heart.
"Glad you think so, honey."
T'Pol curled up in Trip's arms, being well careful, however, that his hand were able to remain very steady there where it lay.
"But, my Lord..." Far from easy to speak lucidly, at that moment, but T'Pol was T'Pol. With difficulty, but she succeeded. "...why such thoughts, just right now?"
If she had looked up at him, she could have seen. What she knew and sensed very well that he was doing at the time.
Rummaging with his tongue the inside of his cheek. Looking for the right words.
Which came, after a moment.
"The girl. The human slave girl, I mean."
"Yes?"
"T'Pol. That she is a nice little chap, we have understood since a while."
"Your language is rather obscure, my Husband and Lord, but I think I understand what you want to say."
"Oh yeah? You know, my girl? I have no doubt about it."
T'Pol's head snapped. "My Lord!"
"And you too are a nice little chap."
"My lord!"
"Nearly human, we could say."
"MY LORD!"
"Why? Is it something you're sorry?"
T'Pol's head took refuge again into Trip's chest. And now? What the hell could she answer?
She took courage in both hands. And then... well, damn it! To quote him ... it was the pure truth! She simply had to season it with that pinch of irony that served so much to tell the truth, without worrying about all that much. Just as she had learned to do from him. From her T'hai'la.
"Husband, I admit. I am a... nice little chap."
"Oh oh! Not bad!"
"But, please note, it's your fault. Or merit, if you want."
"Oh yes?"
"Yes. It is one of the consequences of your... ahem... your recklessness."
"I beg your pardon?"
"You had to think, my Lord, about the consequences that you would have had to face in taking me."
"What? Do you mean I should have to think I would have found myself facing with the nice little chap you're?"
"I mean that you should have thought that you would have found yourself facing with the nice little chap that I would have become as a consequence of the influence exerted by you on me, my reckless Husband and Lord."
"Ah, you would be a nice little chap because of me?"
"Do you remember, my Lord? That little thing that takes the name of Vulcan Bond. You were and are well aware of its deepest meaning."
"So…"
"So, it is you who have made me so."
"Mh. I'm not so sure. I have a feeling that I have just set fire to the powder."
"I beg your pardon?"
Trip chuckled aloud. "Do not play dumb. You understand very well."
T'Pol smiled to herself and, to say truth, even her voice sounded smiling. "In this case, my Lord, all the more so, since you're not foolish..."
"Oh, thank you! A lot!"
"...one has to think that, in wanting to take me at any cost, you didn't get worried about the consequences, which is a clear demonstration of my respectful but logical judgment on you."
Trip chortled. "Namely that I am reckless and that I act on impulse, heedless of the consequences."
At that point, T'Pol turned her face upward toward Trip. Really. Hers looked like two doe eyes. "Hopefully, not all consequences of this your way of acting, my Lord, are unpleasant."
Trip snickered strongly. "No. Not all of them. Although even the pleasant ones are not easy to treat. One them, in particular."
"Do you mean me?"
"Well, babe, you were the one saying it. Have not you admitted to be a nice little chap? And, frankly, it matters little if by nature or by my bad influence on you."
"Oh, but you know how to do, I mean how to handle such pleasant, yet difficult to manage, consequences. Me included, my Lord."
"I know?"
"I really think so."
"Eh, my instinct, probably Or, as you would say, my human mood." And Trip's hand moved a little. Now it was right there. Over there. Exactly over there.
T'Pol lowered abruptly her head and closed her eyes. She sighed harshly, as her thighs clenched spasmodically. "Y... yes! You know really how to do!"
"Ah, so my human mood, although contagious, as it seems given my influence over you, is then not so bad."
T'Pol's breasts rose up in a sigh that sounded almost a groan. "Honestly…" The sigh-groan repeated itself again. "...I… I have come to appreciate the human mood... rather greatly. Particularly... particularly... yours."
And Trip grinned mischievously aloud. "Ah yes? Well, very significant appreciation, this one from you, vulcan doll."
T'Pol could not resist. She spread her thighs a little and... "I wish..." Her voice was hoarse. "... I wish I had way to appreciate it even more."
Trip grinned within himself. "How, my sweetheart? Do you have any suggestions?"
And T'Pol had no restraint. She spread her thighs wide apart to lead the way and then... "Go inside. Your fingers. Inside, Trip!"
"What?!"
Trips' exclamation was sincere. It gushed directly from the depths of him.
Sure, he was playing with her, was tantalizing her. It was his game, with her.
It was their game.
He knew T'Pol liked that. She was… hot.
Damnedly hot!
No one but him could know how T'Pol could be hot!
But now... she was... she was more than hot!
She was... unbridled!
The Pon Farr!
Damn! This damn Pon Farr!
And – Damn! – how she was right about it!
In every respect.
Even in respect of how he would have been influenced by it.
Eh sure! Because her Pon Farr, the same Pon Farr that he - He! - had aroused in her, was reverberating on him! Exactly as she had claimed it would happen!
It was exalting and strengthening his desire for her and his own way to stimulate her! To arouse her cravings!
And she...
Well, maybe, it would have been tremendously hard to govern, this damn Pon Farr! A veritable mess! But, if the start showed even just slightly how it would have revealed itself to be at its acme... oh God! It would have been a thing without comparison!
The sun - its atomic furnace! - would be a gas ring worth a few coins compared with her!
It was her husky voice that woke him from his swirling thoughts.
"Yes! Inside, Adun! Your fingers, your whole hand! Inside! INSIDE!"
Equally hoarse, although for different reasons, Trip's voice rang out. "T'Pol! But what are you saying?"
"Go inside! Go inside with your hand! That's what I'm telling you!"!"
"But… but… T'Pol!" He barely managed to stammer. "And... and the f... fable? Its... its reading? The p... p... pathos?"
Her reply was mind blowing. "I am telling you to go inside with your hand! Not to move it, once inside!"
"Eh?"
"I want your hand inside! I want your fingers on the exact place! I do not want you to move them! I - I! -will tell you when to do it!"
"What?!"
There was no reply from T'Pol.
It was no longer time of replies, on her part.
Of verbal replies.
Her thighs did spread apart even more. Her intimate warmth was a boiling siren that Trip - his hand - could not escape.
His fingers slid inside. They positioned themselves on the exact spot.
T'Pol thighs did shut abruptly.
A long, harsh, hoarse, ecstatic sigh came out from deep within her.
Her eyes fluttered half-open. "Yes! This way!" Her voice was low and husky. "Keep your hand steady this way!"
Trip stayed silent. Her heat - the damp heat of her intimacy - imbued his fingers. It took away his voice.
"Stay so, my Adun." Her eyes closed again. Her voice was hoarse, low and dreamy. "Do not move. Let me suffer of pleasure so."
Trip tried to rouse himself. "T'Pol ..."
"I will follow the reading of the tale so, in this way."
"T'Pol... maybe... maybe it's better that we talk with Phlox now."
"NO!" T'Pol's voice was almost a shout. Then it quieted. "No. This... this is our intimacy. Entirely ours."
"But... T'Pol... my darling..."
"No, Adun. Please." The fluffy warmth of her voice was almost equal to the fluffy warmth of her intimacy. "I want to stay so. Alone with you. Tortured by you."
"But T'Pol ..."
"I love your human mood. And this... this is my own mood. My vulcan mood. I beg you, love it as much as I love yours. Let me savour it all the way. And savour it along with me."
Trip tried to put up a last, strenuous resistance. But he knew he had no chance. "But... but T'Pol, my sweetheart... how... how will you do? How will you be able to resist? And... what about me? How will I be able to do it?"
"I will know how to withstand, my T'hai'la. At least as long as you will allow me to do so. The reading - its pathos - will not suffer. And you ..." T'Pol's voice grew deep as never. "... you, my Lord, my husband, my beloved... you will know how to guide me, how to contain me. And you will know how to make me die with delight when I will ask you to do it. You..." Suddenly, T'Pol's voice resounded subtly and sweetly jocular. "...you know how to handle, as much as they can be difficult to manage, the consequences of your impulsive and ill-advised behaviour. Included myself."
And, at this point, what else could Trip ever do if not to laugh merrily? Regardless and in despite of where his hand stood? And of everything that this brought with it? And so he did. And, laughing... "Well, honey, I do hope that the human slave girl may know - she too, as you say that I am capable of doing - how to handle the consequences of her impulsive and ill-advised behaviour."
But, at that moment, just after those playful words and even in the particular moment of the situation, Trip's voice grew serious.
"Because that's the point. That's what led me to say that I must really admit it."
He stopped an instant.
"And namely that Humans, like me..." He grinned a little forcedly - "... primarily like me and, it seems, like our nice little chap, the little human slave, are really reckless and imprudent."
His voice became even more serious.
"They tend to follow their own instincts, their impulses, without thinking about the consequences. Although, at some point, they realize what they are doing."
Even more serious. So his voice rang now.
"Just as, it seems, our girl has suddenly come to understand."
T'Pol, in truth, had no little difficulty to internalize all round the words of her Adun. Indeed, in reality, she had many and many and many difficulties even merely to listen.
But it was her who had wanted him to stay so, his hand - his fingers - to be where they were.
And she had said that she would be able to withstand that torture.
That wonderful torture.
Therefore, she applied all herself, at her utmost and even more.
And she made it. Surak only - and perhaps not even he - could have been capable of knowing how she succeeded.
Be that as it, she succeeded.
She managed to become once again lucid.
Although her katra continued to bask in that such intimate contact, so exciting, so wonderfully torturous.
"We'll see, Adun."
Her voice was capable of resonating simultaneously hoarse, dreamy, vivid and shiny. Trip, smiling inwardly, found himself thinking - one more time and yet again - that there could be no other woman like her.
"Continue reading. So we will know what will happen. I..." There was a moment of pause. It was not easy, for T'Pol, to stoically endure that stupendous torture. "... I know it already, but I'm sure you will know how to enlighten me even more."
Trip shrugged. But it was certainly not a gesture of annoyance or resignation.
It was a gesture of wonder and delight.
She had made him go through a mill, a veritable calvary, had been up to all sort of things towards him. But if this was the result of his sufferings... well, he was willing to relive those sufferings for thousands and thousands of times again!
He smiled. Then he laughed. Slow and gently.
Her fingers were wet of her intimate lymph.
With great effort, he ignored that marvellous wetness.
He lifted the PADD.
"All right, sweetheart. Let us go forward."
End of Chapter Thirty-six
TBC
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The calm?