Part III- Winter

The snow was falling faster now, small, sharp flakes that echoed the cold night air. The wind had picked up causing the strings of lights that rimmed the porch to clatter softly against the rails. The bare branches of the oak traced across the breadth of the sky, now draped in white, the crystals glittering like diamonds where they were touched by light.

Louisa's Solstice parties were legendary, and the sounds of laughter and lively conversation spilled from the doorway as a few of the more timid guests took to leaving before the snow became too heavy.

Amanda had come to know that no matter what the weather, there would always be an intrepid crew that would hang on, celebrating through the night and even into the next day if necessary. Any bad weather always brought a further split between those that left before the snow had barely started to lay and those that waited until it was all over. They were black and white, one or another, lacking any shade of gray.

She shivered a little and slipped back inside. The heat from the roaring open fire and the mass of bodies congregating around it was like a wall that hit as much as the cold wind outside. Amanda eased her way down the hall, smiling and offering a word or two when it seemed appropriate to any wandering guest, before she finally made it to her destination, the library, where she could shut the doors and take a deep breath of the silence within.

A familiar cloak lay draped over the loveseat and she tossed her own coat next to it. Moving in closer to the fire, she could just make out the occupant of the large chair pulled within the circle of its light, taking in the maximum effects of its warmth.

"I thought I'd find you here."

"Too loud," they both said it in unison, and she laughed, dropping to the floor beside his feet. Somehow, she felt a deep feeling of contentment, sitting there, as if this were her one special spot in the universe.

She turned to look at him, "Is that difficult for you—a close packed, unruly crowd like that?"

"It is…" Sarek took a breath as if trying to find the word with the least emotional connotation, "uncomfortable."

Amanda turned toward the fire, hoping that she wasn't a source of "discomfort" to him as well. Glancing back toward him, she spied a familiar book on the table next to the chair.

"Poetry? That's not something I'd expect to find you reading."

"And what would you have me read?" His voice seemed to gently chide her.

"Maybe a book on Quantum Physics or something. But not poetry," she could see the question reflected in his eyes before he could voice it, "I would think its entirely too emotional for you. How can you pretend to understand what it's about?"

She blurted the words out before she thought about them. A challenge to answer a question she didn't know if she could dare to ask.

"This is one of your stereotypes is it not?"

She looked sheepishly at him from the corner of her eyes at first, then a little defiantly, "But its Vulcans who say they have no emotions, not humans."

"You confuse the public personna with the individual. Humans assume that because we do not allow ourselves to be ruled by emotions, we do not have them. I would admit that there are those among my people who would, in fact, deny that they have any emotions, but they are fools in doing so. No sentinent being can function without emotion of some sort. Controlling and denying are two very different things. We are in essense a passionate people, too passionate. So we learn to control," his response came in an almost formal tone, but suddenly he softened his voice so it became a gentle question, " Do you understand?"

"Yes and…no. Sarek?"

The impressive brows lifted he looked at her in anticipation.

"Do you- yourself, personally that is, not as the representative of all things Vulcan," she took a deep breath, "do you really not—"

The door swung open with what seemed like the loudest bang possible.

"The two of you had better get out there if you want to see the tree lighting!"

The moment was broken, and she turned to reach for her coat. Her grandmother was sure to quiz her on crowd reaction, so like it or not, she would have to go back outside.

"You were about to ask?"

He quietly stood behind her now. She imagined he could hear how rapidly her heart raced, or could see her hands shaking as she pulled on her gloves. How could she have been so brave only a moment ago? Or maybe it had just been foolish.

"Nevermind, its not really important," She brushed it off knowing it was important. It was the most important thing in her life right now.


She felt him at her elbow, before she saw him, as she stood along the rim of the porch. He kept back, out of the direct impact of the wind and she felt more than a little pleasure in the fact that she could prevent some of the stronger gusts from reaching him, that she was his protection against the worst of the cold. Amanda turned and looked up at him with a smile that held her secret satisfaction in that fact.

Sarek's cloak was wrapped tight around him, held in place by hands encased in heavy gloves. Underneath his hood he had wrapped a scarf so that all she could see were his eyes glittering in reflected light. Alone, their slight upward tilt gave the impression of curiosity and bemusement. He looked like a desert prince who had become hopelessly lost. She laughed at the thought and was answered by a bemused question in his eyes.

"You look like you got lost on your way to a sandstorm and found a snowstorm instead," she whispered.

Did she imagine the laughter returned in the depths of those eyes, or was she only fooling herself?

"Indeed," his voice was muffled within the folds of the scarf, "In many ways, I would find that prospect infinitely more appealing."

"And in other ways?"

"The company here is…" before he could finish, his attention shifted, "The tree—"

She turned back just as her grandmother hit the switch and the guardian oak lit up, filled with thousands of brightly colored miniature lights, shining like a fairy beacons, now holding sway against the darkness that was the legacy of this night, the longest of the year.

A cheer went up from the crowd, exclamations of delight from those that had never witnessed the lighting before and welcoming shouts from those who had seen it many times, but always forgot just how wonderful a sight it was. For a few minutes the greater part of the gathering continued on the lawn, before a heavier squall of wind and snow made them beat a hasty retreat back to the security of the house.

Neither Amanda nor Sarek made any motion to move, both holding back on the porch until it was only the two of them and the tree. She looked up into its branches and the magic of the night, and took a deep breath before plunging forward.

"And the company here?" she turned and looked up into those deep green eyes searching.

He pulled the scarf from around his face, his voice soft, no more than a whisper on the wind, "I would trade it for no other."

She had backed down from her impulses more than once tonight. She would not do it again. Lightly, she planted her hands on his chest, and balancing on her toes, she let her lips brush against his cheek, before pulling the scarf back across it, sealing her kiss in its place.

"It's too cold for you out here."

"Indeed," he replied his eyes never leaving hers as they turned back to the warmth of the house.

It was more then she expected and less than she had dreamed. But the guardian oak, in all its festive glory stood as witness to the fact that for her, it would be enough— for now.