The Third Nature -Book One of the Triad
Voyager fantasies by Taya 17 Janeway @ Nimgil
teardrops and seeds
She slowly became aware of the world around her. She was lying on some sort of pallet; she was aware of the soft bedding beneath her, the texture of the hand-woven blanket they'd covered her with to keep her warm. Somehow, her senses had been altered; she could feel a strange new sharpness to the texture of her perceptions. Despite the strange pounding sensation in her head, it was as if she could feel the world more acutely. Eyes closed, she could hear much more sharply than she usually did: she could hear the soft whispers of Kes and Myriam, muffled by a thick wall, she could hear the calling of crickets outside, she imagined she could hear breathing. His breathing.
Her eyes snapped open as the memory of what had transpired flooded through her. She cried out once, in panic, and tried to sit up, but a sharp, stabbing pain flared up her spine and she collapsed back on the bed, gasping.
In an instant Kes and Myriam were by her side, concern etched on their faces. Kes put her hand on Janeway's shoulder. "Are you alright?"
Fury was surging through her. "Chakotay! He-" she clenched her fist, imagining that he was there and she could pulp him. What satisfaction it would bring. His betrayal cut her deeply; she was reeling with shock with what he'd done to her. She'd trusted him, opened up to him... and then this.
"Calm down, Kathryn," said Kes soothingly. "It takes a while to get used to your new abilities. Does your head hurt?"
The anger she felt only seemed to intensify the throbbing, pounding pain in her head. She nodded dumbly, afraid to open her mouth in fear of what she might say in this heightened, sensitive state.
Kes ran a modified tricorder over her. The Healer's office was quiet; the diffuse ambient yellow light from the glow lamps painted soft shadows across their faces. In the background, she could see someone else lying on another pallet. Was it B'Elanna? No, it was Seven. "Kes, what's going on? Why is Seven here? Where's B'Elanna?"
"B'Elanna was here earlier; she's already left to confront Tom," Kes told her simply, and shut the tricorder. "You're doing well; you should be feeling alright in a few hours after you complete the ritual."
"In the transitional period, it is normal to temporarily lose control over your emotions," Myriam told her gently. "You will feel anger, hate, loss, joy, confusion. But that's perfectly normal, and it will fade away once you complete the movement started by the Joining."
Janeway knew perfectly what Myriam meant, but she refused to acknowledge it. "Why is Seven here?" she asked Kes again.
Kes glanced briefly at the ex-Borg, then back to her. "She, like you, has also undergone the Joining ritual."
Her head felt like it was going to explode if it didn't stop pounding. "With whom?"
Kes hesitated for a moment. "Tuvok."
The name jolted her with a powerful blow. "Tuvok?" she asked in an incredulous whisper. "He's married! What in the world would possess him to--"
"It was his choice," said Kes.
"His choice." Her voice sounded raspy in her own ears. She could feel the rage building within her: an almost palpable thing, a creature with its own volition, racing through her brain and rendering her incapable of doing anything but wishing she could tear something apart with her bare hands. "I don't believe that. He must have spoken to someone—spoken to Chakotay—he would never have made this decision on his own." She pierced Kes with a steel-clad glance. "Did Chakotay speak to him?"
Kes' eyes were inscrutable. "Captain, you should rest. The ritual needs to be completed—"
Janeway flung Kes' hand aside and pushed herself off the bed, the raging anger blotting out the pain in her back, in the sides of her head. "Where is he?" she demanded to know.
Myriam and Kes merely glanced at her with cool eyes, seemingly impervious to the tempest.
Their indifference only aggrandized Janeway's fury. "Tell me where he is!"
A moment of silence, then Kes slowly answered, "He's in your room, waiting."
She was out of the Healer's office before the sentence was complete.
The cold night air invigorated her as she ran; the anger she felt sustained her, providing the energy to take one step after another at breakneck speed. She leapt up the steps carved into the scarletwood tree two at a time, and by the time she burst into the room, her chest was heaving. She paid no heed.
He was standing impassively by the balcony when she came raging in, staring down at the daer. He turned to her with resigned weariness in his eyes, prepared to receive a tongue-lashing.
She flew at him and grabbed him by the arms. "Why did you do it?" she shouted. "Did you think about the consequences? What would happen to us?" She stopped and glared at him, still breathing hard.
His eyes were dull. "Yes."
She flung his arms away from her angrily and stalked to the end of the room, muttering darkly. "Damn you. Damn you."
"Kathryn." He followed her. "I'm sorry. I had no other choice."
"No other choice!" she bellowed, her temper flaring again. "That has to be the lamest, most dim-witted excuse that I've ever-"
Now it was his turn to grab her, and in her anger she nearly struck out at him with her power. "Kathryn. Kathryn! Listen to me. Calm down."
She flung his arms away from him with the sheer force of her rage. "Don't call me by that name. Don't you dare." Her eyes were twin maelstroms of blue.
"Captain," he said, stiffly and formally, bottling his frustation under a layer of indifference. He took a step away from her: a small, slow step; and then another, and another.
She stared at him, standing across the room from her. Despite his size, the darkly haunted, yet somehow hopeful look in his eyes made him look so lost, so vulnerable. She shut her eyes, refusing to look at him, and in that moment she could feel the wall of anger, so strong and sustaining, crumble as fast as it had come. The world seemed remote, far away. The strength left her limbs, and she leaned against the wall, trembling. She felt tears forming in her eyes, felt her throat close up so tightly it hurt.
Chakotay returned to her side and gently wrapped his arms around her. The warmth of his body was comforting, and she found herself falling into his embrace, pressing her face into his broad shoulder. And try as she might, she could no longer hold the tears back. She cried. She cried for many reasons, many things: Earth, lost; her crew, trapped here forever; her promises, broken. But most of all she cried because doors which she thought were closed had opened again, and the pain it brought to her was more than she could bear.
He held her close with an almost-paternal sigh, comforting her. "Didn't Kes or Myriam tell you that violent mood swings were a result of the purification ritual?"
"Stop it." She pounded furiously at him with her fist. "I hate you."
"And childishness, as well," he observed dryly.
The anger surged back through her again, and she stiffened in his arms. "So you think this is funny, don't you. You think it's some kind of joke."
"I never said that."
She took a deep breath, trying to get her emotions under control. "Why did you do this, Chakotay?"
He paused for a moment; a long moment in which the only sounds were the beating of their hearts. Then he gently took her chin in his hand and said with all the sincerity within him, "Because I love you."
"Chakotay." Her eyes were tired, disappointed. "We've been through this before."
"Have we?" Chakotay's gaze was deeply penetrating. "Things are different now. Circumstances have changed so much." At her continued silence, he said. "Think about it, Kathryn. This is our world now. We are now part of a larger whole, one without the limitations we had to live with-"
"One which you so badly wanted to be a part of that you forced me into this ritual."
He paused. "I'm sorry."
She immediately regretted her words. "No, don't be," she rebutted. "You were right—I was clutching at straws, clinging to an impossible hope. Maybe it was time I gave it up." Suddenly it seemed as if a bright light had pierced the gloom in her mind, and she stared at him with new hope glowing in her eyes. "You're right, Chakotay, absolutely right. We could start a new life here, move on with our lives, and cherish the times we had with those we left in the Alpha Quadrant--"
He nodded. "You think it'll redress everything that I've done wrong?"
She gazed at him. "Redress the wrongs?"
"Everything is my fault."
She frowned. "How so?"
His brow creased slightly. "That day, when I saw you give the order for the destruction of the Caretaker's Array… I saw all the pain in your eyes. I felt so guilty then. If not for me… if you hadn't been after my ship, then you'd never have gotten stranded in the Delta Quadrant, and you would have gone on with your life and gotten married, raised a family… From that moment onwards I knew nothing I did would ever make up for it. But the least I could do was to protect you from harm. So that day, the first time I stood beside you on the bridge in that uniform, I swore that I'd never let you get hurt again." He averted his eyes again, finding himself unable to look at her. "I wasn't entirely successful. Sometimes I had no choice but to hurt you, make a choice between hurting you in one way and another. But I tried, Kathryn, goddammit, I tried."
"Chakotay." Her voice was filled with empathy, tinged with sadness. "What makes you think I blamed you for being stranded in the Delta Quadrant?"
"It's the truth."
She forced him to look at her. "It's not. Listen to me, Chakotay. I never blamed you. And we've had our differences, I know, but you've always remained objective, open, even forgiving. I've had my share of wrongdoing, but you never held it against me. You had many opportunities to betray me, but you never did. You were a loyal first officer, and...." She hesitated. "I've never told anyone this, but you have been a better friend than anyone could ever hope for." Her voice softened. "Thank you."
The honesty in her eyes was beautifully haunting.
He hugged her tightly, and that simple gesture seemed to resolve years of conflict, years of playing games, years of pain and confusion. "Kathryn," he said softly, "I know that adjusting to this new life is going to be difficult for you, and I will honor your decision if you decide to break the bond and live alone. I'll understand."
What if honor is out of the question? What'll you do then?
He leaned back to look at her, gazing at him with tender curiosity. "Then I'll do this." He leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips, but it was a friendly kiss, a chaste kiss, a kiss between friends. Just to test the water.
She pondered his movement for a moment, still trembling on the edge of emotional insecurity after her harrowing experience. Then she leaned forwards and kissed him back.
When they broke from the kiss she leaned her head on his broad chest and let out a soft sigh of contentment. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and held her close, just savoring the feel of her light against him, the cadence of her breathing, the way her hair settled on his arm. He smiled; it was just like holding a child.
Except that she wasn't his child, and he would never think of her as such. The woman leaning on him would be his wife, his lover, and his consort from that day forth. Just the thought of that—living the rest of his life by her side—made the corners of his eyes crinkle slightly.
She felt his joy, brushing gently against his mind. What is it?
"I was thinking about after the war. What we're going to do with our new lives."
Our new lives. Yes, it did seem like she had been reborn. She laughed gently, feeling the ray of hope she'd glimpsed spiraling through her, filling her with a giddy euphoria. "Oh yes. Wouldn't it be nice to become a teacher at the Naiad College of Science and Magic," she said, "and teach the quantum theory of magic to the hapless first-years?"
"Poor kids," he ribbed. "As for me, I'll run a small commodities store at the edge of our daer. We'll have a house here, a large one. So that we can house all our six children."
"Six children!" Laughing nonstop now.
"Yes, all six of them, three boys and three girls. I'd pick you up after you finish your last lecture, and take you back and make dinner, and after dinner we'd all gather around the fire while I tell the children stories about the heroes of Voyager and you rub my neck."
"Hey. That's not fair."
"Okay, my feet then."
"Very funny, Chakotay."
"Then we'd go out every weekend to explore the forest, or have a picnic by the lake, and the kids'll always try unsuccessfully to burn down the trees, but fortunately they can't get past Empress Myriam's spells- yet."
"You have a wicked imagination." She raised her brows and looked playfully upwards at him. "Six children, Chakotay? I'd say we better get started as soon as possible." She straightened up and gave him a deadpan stare. "Hadn't we?"
He made no reply, except to kiss her again, this time not as chaste as before. She parted her lips gently as he probed her with his tongue, and he could fell her touch, feather light, on his mind. Slowly he reached for the clip in her hair and pulled it out, and her auburn hair came tumbling down around her shoulders. He lifted his hands into her hair and buried his nose in it, losing himself in her scent, her feel.
They broke from the kiss, and the sparkle in her eye wasn't quite so innocent anymore. Impulsively, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it onto the floor. She smiled, and her hand went to the fastener of his pants. "Not so fast," he said. "Wait." He scooped her up and carried her over to the bathroom, and she was laughing giddily like a girl, no trace of the angry woman who'd stormed up to this room half an hour ago.