T'Pol stayed under the water longer than she should've, but it was warm and her body was shivering. Ironically she became cold the moment she left her bed.
Strange.
She expected the madness of Pon Farr to be ugly and sordid – her emotions uncontrollable and flailing in all directions. Thus far, there were moments of insanity, but there was also overwhelming sensuality; her emotions were sometimes beyond containment, but never overtly so. There were only moments, like when she made outbursts regarding Jonathan's safety to V'Lin, where she felt her emotional control eking away.
My emotions are not beyond containment yet
Yet is what bothered her most.
Looking back on the past two weeks give or take a few days, she wondered if her body had been calling out to Jonathan, asking for relief even without her knowledge. Their bond had formed within this timeframe; it didn't seem out of the realm of possibility. But, it seemed odd a human would sense this change in her system. He had done everything she would ask in a mate: satisfy her, care for her, protect her, be there even when she believed he was unnecessary ….
Almost smiling, she thought about him and shivered again, despite the hot water pelting her body.
I would welcome his arms around me.
As if summoned, Archer lazily stepped into the shower, his eyes sleepy and his hair askew. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her for a few moments.
"How long was I asleep?"
She covered his lips with hers and then retreated from his embrace. "Three hours."
Nodding, he brushed his thumb against her cheek. Although he was up, he could've easily slept another three hours … maybe longer…. His arms, legs, mind and even fingers were weary, begging for more rest. Hell, even his tongue was pooped.
Why did I get out of bed?
And then he remembered: her voice called him. Like a whisper it came into his dream and gently roused him, nudging his brain and encouraging him to join her. It was weird that he obeyed it like a command. Perhaps their bond was deepening.
Deepening? T'Pol raised her eyebrow at his thought. It's a possibility.
Watching her tremble again, he petted the side of her face. "You okay?"
"Yes," she said. As he stretched, she thought about his aches and pains; climbing the mountain and then diving into frantic embrace must've been taxing on his system.
"I'm all right, too." Taking a deep breath, which he decided also smarted, he rolled his head around his neck.
"Maybe I can help you tonight."
"Tonight? Mmmm. That sounds nice."
She kissed his neck and suddenly backed away noting a bruise about the size of her mouth planted near his Adam's apple. In fact, staring at him, she noted more scrapes and bruises … as if his body had been rolled down a hill and onto a thorny bush.
"Does it hurt?" she asked, thinking Sovok would see the evidence of their mating and become offended.
"Nah. I'll put ice on it," he said as she inspected him. Although his teeth and tongue had worked at her skin, she showed no signs of it.
"Jonathan, your bites weren't as … forceful."
Through their bond, he raised his eyebrows wondering if she was disappointed.
"No, not disappointed. I'm concerned I hurt you."
Waving her comment away, he answered. "It's not your fault."
Her eyes fell to the bottom of the shower, unconvinced.
I enjoyed it, he thought, giving her a wink.
She was ashamed to admit she did as well.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of. Everything seemed pretty … errr … natural."
After rubbing noses with her for a moment and touching mouths briefly, he saw her face grow serious.
"I … don't wish to harm you. Rather, I don't wish to harm you any further."
"I don't think you will."
Running her hand along his cheek and touching the cut on his lip, she shook her head. "People have died in the throws of Pon Farr. It is rare, but it does happen. The madness is, I understand, overwhelming."
"I doubt that you would …."
"Logic leaves us entirely."
Pon Farr. The time of mating. T'Pol didn't know much of the symptoms but even she knew a few solid facts: Vulcans lost all control, other Vulcans were bound to help those who were burning with the blood fever (including mating with friends … sometimes strangers) and if the blood fever wasn't abated she would die.
Chronicled in the events of Surak's life, she read even he was bound to the fire that burned within. The father of Vulcan logic had his mind ripped away from him once every seven years. In a vain attempt to control the mating fever, he had his followers lock him in a cell with a square box that looked into his room. Added to his ankles and wrists were chains and cuffs so thick he would never be able to break them. As they shackled him, he made them promise to let him die before they would remove the restraints. As his disciples gave an unwitting pledge, Surak motioned his head to Rama, his most trusted friend.
"T'Pana will want to come and help me," he said. "You must not release me. I believe through rigorous self-discipline I can overcome Pon Farr."
"No one has ever cooled the fires."
"I must attempt. If Vulcans can overcome pain, fear and anger … as well as this need to mate, our species will be better off."
"But, your wife and I are friends. She will suffer. You know she will burn with a slight fever for you. And no doubt her care for you will drive her here."
"She can control her desires. I have explained the circumstances and have her support."
"She is a … stubborn woman."
"Yes," he said, almost with a smile. "All the more reason I ask you. You are … equally stubborn."
The woman's eyes turned warm as if to laugh. "You have my vow."
The first two days, Surak did the impossible – he stayed in his cell and quietly meditated the fever away. It took every ounce of control including straining his reserves, something that Rama would notice only by the sweat pouring off his forehead and the slight trembling of his body.
By the third day, the weakened man slipped into some sort of unconsciousness and begged to be released. As he feared, T'Pana fled to the door demanding he be set free, but Rama barred her entrance.
"I have taken a vow. I cannot let you help him."
Although the two women argued, logically and without raising their voices, T'Pana withdrew, ignoring her bondmates cries. Her husband had asked to conduct this experiment, and she would let him see it through until his pleas became so desperate that he would die without her aid. By her estimation, he had a little while longer.
The fourth day, Surak's voice became angrier as he described in broken sentences and forgotten words what he needed – his voice dripping with lust; it was hoarse and alluring. Again, T'Pana wanted to free him and again Rama pulled her away. Again the two women exchanged words, more heatedly, but again T'Pana withdrew; she knew he had more time … even if it wasn't much.
By the fifth day, his blood was burning, eating away at his organs. His voice was quiet and weak, pleading for his bondmate to come to him.
"My wife, you must give yourself to me. Satisfy my desires or else you condemn me to this emotional hell!"
T'Pana called to him through the door. "My love, Rama will not let me enter."
"My eyes are flame. My heart is flame. My blood boils for thee. I want to touch your hair, your cheek, your throat …."
Rama turned her head, ignoring man and wife speak like lovers.
"You have asked her to keep a promise." T'Pana knew it was useless to reason with him, his mind felt like chaos and his body was sweating. Even her own body, because she was bonded to him, burned.
"I have told her a thousand times over she must break the pledge!" he yelled to the point of becoming hoarse.
T'Pana's eyes fell onto Rama. "He needs me. He's weak – near death."
Rama furrowed her brow and stared at the ground. "I have given him my word. He does this for the benefit of all Vulcan."
As Surak heard these words his grunts and shouts drowned out all noise. Curses and damnations fell from his lips, leveled at anyone in hearing distance.
T'Pana after hearing his badgering and belligerent words, turned to Rama. "His mind has vanished. Surak is a great man, but he cannot out logic his biology … what makes him Vulcan and male. It would be as frivolous as training the mind to bring a child to a barren womb. Call off this bit of foolishness and let me bring his suffering to an end."
Rama watched him rattle his chains, bedlam marking his once steely features. In his fury, he had bitten his own lip, letting the blood trickle down his chin and onto his neck. His hair was wet with perspiration and his eyes were like fire – hot and ablaze with rage.
"The mind, Surak has proven, can reduce pain."
"He can mitigate it, but not remove it. He has proven he can reduce the affects of Pon Farr, but he cannot will them away. That is illogical."
Shaking her head, she agreed. Staring on his figure with worry, Rama whispered, "He will perish if he does not have your aid."
T'Pana watched the woman compute the equation for the appropriate course of action and knew the underlying problem was the woman's word.
"You would not be lying if you gave the key to me. And I set him free."
She raised her eyebrow and said, "That is not obeying the spirit of the promise." Fishing out a key, she handed it to T'Pana and finished her sentence. "However, it is obeying the letter of it."
With nearly a sigh of relief, T'Pana snatched the key and opened the door. As soon as she did, Rama's words rang in her ears.
"Be careful. He is highly agitated and to settle his fever, he may become violent."
Without care for her own life, she approached her husband. "I am here, beloved. Your burning has called to me."
As soon as he was released, he fell onto her roughly – his tongue, lips and fingers attacking her with delight. Rama decided the best thing to do would be to close the door and allow them some privacy, hanging her robe over the cut out in the door as she heard his growling.
Three days after, Surak was well enough to stand in front of those he mentored. Wryly his eyes darted to T'Pana. Both suffered the typical signs of mating – claw marks, small bruises and tiny welts. It was to be expected and wasn't met with embarrassment.
"My wife has taught me there's logic in listening to the call of Pon Farr. And I have learned from my dearest friend that a Vulcan's pledge to help those in the fever is stronger than any other vow."
Rama blinked quickly and added a few words without hesitation. "Except those vows of marriage, which ultimately saved you."
A few of the newer students laughed as Surak raised his eyebrow with a twinkle in his eye. As the room became quiet, he turned serious again.
"Possibly even stronger than those of marriage. We cannot deny what makes us Vulcan – we are at its mercy. It is powerful – the blood fever … the need is too great to ignore. It is … frightening to be at emotions' whim. Logic abandons you and nothing but passion fills your mind, destroying all you hold sacred. T'Pana came to me, but I would've taken any woman – crushed her mouth to mine. The need. I would have killed for it."
His followers stared on, shaken and the father of logic became quiet – purging his mind from the dread.
He whispered into the wind, "Dying that death, would be ugly. I would not wish it on anyone."
Archer listened to the thoughts in her head, watching the scene come alive almost in front of his eyes.
"Surak couldn't control the urges. No Vulcan can. And I would take you, crush you or any man to my mouth to satisfy the urges."
"T'Pol …."
"If the father of Vulcan logic could not restrain himself, no Vulcan can. The want …."
"Yes, I can sometimes feel your desire. You indicated T'Pana felt his … longing?"
"Yes. You are my mate. You burn for me as my body is aflame for you."
That was definitely true. "The madness. Will it affect me?"
"I don't know."
"But, you'll get worse?"
"Yes."
"How much worse?"
Leveling her eyes at him, she spoke the word slowly. "Much."
T'Pol landed the shuttle in front of Sovok's house and she took a deep breath. Their visit to Valara's house was easy compared to what was in store tonight. And … she was five minutes late.
Vulcans are never late.
"You can blame it on me," he said, trying to ease her concern. "Are you going to tell them about …?"
"It is not something easily discussed. After dinner, I'll tell them of my condition."
"Can you hold out that long? I've been feeling … waves of lust."
"I can withstand the burning that long."
About to hop out, she looked at him and over the makeup on his neck to hide his hickey. He was the reason they were late – that wasn't exactly be a lie; it was difficult to find the right shade to successfully cover up the mark. Her only salvation was that he had a sunburn that covered parts of him – his nose, shoulders, chin, forehead and neck. The shade of her rogue mixed with her bronze-green foundation, seemed to do the trick and made her lust invisible to the naked eye.
As the two walked out of the shuttle, V'Lin came to greet them, giving them the Vulcan sign of greeting.
"You're late," the aunt said.
"My fault," Archer said. "Sorry."
V'Lin's eyes focused on T'Pol wondering about the lecherous gazes she and Archer exchanged earlier. "I see. Well, come in. Dinner has been waiting on you."
T'Pol led the way, bowing deeply as she entered. "My uncle, you honor me with your presence."
Archer bowed as well, but looked up only briefly to see a man whose expression was so dour that it made Soval look like he was smiling and laughing. His eyes were a dark gray – bland and passive, his hair was dark gray and his pallor was ashen-green – everything about him made him appear more … Vulcan. The corners of his mouth were turned down by centimeters in the most emotionless disgust.
The house itself was grand, but sparse. Unlike T'Pol's house, few decorations were hung – no tapestries, no artwork – the walls were completely bare. Not only were they bare, they seemed a particular shade of sandstone that projected sterility. The furniture was boring – only the most contemporary pieces in perfect lines without the twists and turns that mimicked the Vulcan runes that made up their written language. The throw pillows on the floor were all dark green and had no embroidery or interesting markings.
Utilitarian. Functional. Everything about Sovok and his dwelling was plain.
Sovok finally spoke. "T'Pol, it is has been many years. Seven point two, I believe to be exact."
As Archer looked up, he gathered Sovok was always exact.
"You must be the Earthling."
"My name is Jonathan Archer," he said. "It's good to meet you Sovok."
"Archer." Sovok eyed him. "You are older than I expected."
Giving a slight frown, he said, "I'm only 43."
"Are you? Interesting," Sovok said. By lifting two fingers slowly in the air, his wife seemed to appear out of nowhere.
"My wife, Saaya," he said.
Saaya was a beautiful woman, elegant and tall. Her hair was streaked with silver against a dark brown background. She was bronze as if she worshipped the sun and it returned the adoration. Devoid of frills – no makeup, no flecks in her robes or satin finish to her garments, something about her seemed as if she'd always wanted to divulge in luxuries, but had given that up the indulgence a long time ago.
Arranged marriages, T'Pol thought as Archer nodded in understanding at the message.
Archer bowed to her as T'Pol spoke up.
"Saaya, I am pleased you are well. Last I left Vulcan, you were ill."
The woman seemed gracious and spoke softly as if she'd been silenced most of her life. "I am well. Thank you for keeping me in your thoughts."
Sovok spoke. "My children were unable to come tonight. They are all attending Kolinahr … as they do every year." Turning his eyes toward T'Pol, he added, "Emotions are a disgrace to Vulcans."
Providing a steely look in exchange, she didn't back down.
A Vulcan, who looked to be the equivalent of 30 human years caught Archer's eye. The young man was handsome – black hair and equally black eyes. He, like most Vulcans, was tall and lanky and seemed to tower over even Archer. A growl nearly worked its way out of Jonathan's throat; it was the need to protect what was his: his mate.
"This is Korin, Rama's bondmate."
Korin, like a man transfixed, stared at T'Pol as Archer stepped in front of her to hide her from his view.
Meanwhile, V'Lin watched on with interest. It seemed Korin was reacting to T'Pol's scent, just as she suspected he might. It meant her niece was most likely in Pon Farr. Rather than stop the scene, she allowed it to continue, keeping a close eye on Korin, T'Pol and Archer. She was particularly interested in the captain's response to the challenge.
"T'Pol, I'm pleased to see you," Korin said in Vulcan.
She returned a reply. "It is agreeable to see you. It has been some time."
"Bondmate? Are you married then?" Archer asked, scooting toward T'Pol.
Korin shook his head, slightly. "No, Rama and I are promised to each other. We have not been wed, which means our union has not been formalized."
"Where is Rama?" Archer asked.
"V'Lin was good enough to ask me to come. I didn't realize Rama wouldn't be here."
V'Lin saw T'Pol's cheeks flush green and both Korin and Archer notice it, parting their lips in a pant.
"We were childhood friends," Korin explained. "In fact, as children, T'Pol and I were inseparable."
Archer's brow furrowed and his lip curled up momentarily in a sneer. "Huh."
Saaya pointed near the table and asked for everyone to sit down. Arranging everyone, almost like an Earth woman might, she placed T'Pol and Korin together at one side of the table, she and her husband at opposite ends and seated Archer next to V'Lin.
V'Lin eyed the young people from time to time, and every once in a while she would catch Korin watching T'Pol and Archer spying on Korin. As the dinner progressed, the captain's knuckles became whiter and whiter as he gripped his utensils with more ferocity all the while Korin's eye gleamed with something akin to lust.
Suddenly breaking through the tense silence, Archer finally sniped.
"Stop staring at her and look at your meal!"
Korin dropped his spoon with something near anger, furrowing his eyebrows. "She is not yours."
"Oh, yes she is."
Both men stood as V'Lin interjected as quickly as possible: "It is as I suspected. Korin, I do not wish to be rude, but I think you should leave."
Suddenly the entire dinner party rose to their feet. Sovok placed his hands in his robes, his face devoid of any emotion, waiting for the logic of the situation to come to light.
Korin shook his head. "I cannot leave." His gaze fell on T'Pol. "Something is asking me to stay. Her?"
V'Lin tapped her finger to her chin, thinking T'Pol's scent was stronger than she anticipated.
Archer snarled back at him. "I said she's mine."
"Stop it," T'Pol said loud enough to cause both men to pause momentarily. As if by instinct, she scooted a little closer to Archer.
"T'Pol?" V'Lin asked. "One must leave – Jonathan or Korin. Whom would you choose?"
"I do not understand."
Archer spoke up as if on her behalf. "She chooses me."
V'Lin prompted T'Pol again. "Which one?"
Quietly, she said, "I want Jonathan to stay."
V'Lin waddled to Korin and said, sternly. "You have done your Vulcan duty."
A little triumphant, Archer puffed out his chest as if he was the winner and produced a mild smile – cocky and secure.
With a troubled brow, Korin gave a simple bow. "I do not understand. I did not wish to offend. I am uncertain what came over me."
Sovok said, not entirely convincingly, "No offense is taken where no emotion exists."
The younger Vulcan turned and exited. The moment the door closed, T'Pol wheeled on Jonathan. Instead of responding verbally, he grabbed her arm and stared into her eyes; it held Vulcan fire and dominance.
As Sovok was about to address the rudest alien, Archer, he would ever have the displeasure of meeting, V'Lin answered what was on everyone's mind.
"T'Pol, you are in the Pon Farr aren't you?"
Licking her lips, she turned her eyes to the ground. "Yes, I believe so."
"I think you are," V'Lin said. "Your outbursts this morning, the gaze you held with Jonathan, Korin's reaction – to help you in your fires without knowing you suffered, Jonathan's reaction to you now. It must be the mating cycle."
Sovok, even for a man with no emotion, nearly rolled his eyes. "V'Lin, you should have told me. It is dangerous for an unmarried man to see T'Pol during this time."
V'Lin shook her head. "It was an easy way to determine whether she was in her mating cycle and at the same time gauge Jonathan's reaction. I believe they hear each other's voice. It's why he responded as her protector and champion."
"I told you our minds speak as one," T'Pol said.
"It appears you are correct. But, T'Pol, it appears your mother died too young and left you naïve. Welcoming the stares of an unmarried Vulcan is disaster."
"I heard this was true, but did not realize the extent or how easily a Vulcan man would be allured."
Saaya, spoke, her voice wispy like the Vulcan air. "It is a Vulcan's duty to assist in another's Pon Farr. Even if he had been a stranger, he would be attracted to your scent and heat. There is much you should learn. You seem ignorant."
"Ignorance is no excuse," Sovok claimed. He folded his arms across his chest. "However, this certainly changes the situation. Archer did act as her champion and T'Pol has no betrothal because of a careless act two years ago."
T'Pol was about to refute that, when Sovok opened his mouth again.
"Does Archer know of his responsibility to you?"
"Yes."
"What the hell's going on?" Archer asked. Bewildered, frustrated and angry, his face turned pink and wrinkles sprouted all over his face.
V'Lin gave a small, but perceptible, frown. "Saaya and I will talk with T'Pol to confirm what she says. Perhaps, Sovok, you can explain to Jonathan what is happening and … discuss his role for the next few days."
As Sovok was about to object, the three women glided across the room and wandered into the corridor out of visual range. The two men barely heard a door shut.
She's mine. They did not ask my approval before taking her.
Sovok turned up his nose at his unfinished dinner. Crouching down, he perched himself on one of the uninteresting pillows that adorned the ground.
"T'Pol and her family have always caused disturbances. My brother was matched unwisely. His wife was and her siblings are … shall we say … unconventional?"
The human scowled.
"Sit." It wasn't a request and for some reason the captain stubbornly obeyed it.
"Vulcans do not discuss the Pon Farr with off-worlders, Archer. But, it appears you are already involved. You are never to mention what we discuss here with anyone outside this family. Do you understand?"
There was a lot he didn't understand.
With more authority, Sovok asked again. "Do I have your word?"
"I understand," he said, snapping. "You have my word."
"What do you know about the time of mating?"
Wanting to pace the room, he shifted on the pillow, squirming. "T'Pol will need to mate for a period of time."
Sovok waited for a few minutes and hid surprise. "That is all?"
"She said there was a … madness that occurs. She also indicated if she didn't mate she could face death. She said Vulcans sometimes kill in the … errr madness."
Pointing his fingers under his chin, forming a temple, the Vulcan closed his eyes and recounted what every boy or girl knows as they enter the rites of adulthood.
"The ebb and flow of Vulcan life is based on logic, reason, passivity and the suppression of emotion. The Pon Farr violates everything we know to be Vulcan and holds us at its beck and call until it leaves us. Ironic that it is necessary for us to live and sustain our way of life."
The captain seemed nonplussed. "T'Pol told me of Surak's insanity during this time."
"As a human, you have little appreciation for this dilemma. Imagine everything you hold dear to be torn and ripped from you …. Envision that you are a slave to your basest urges, satisfying them until you are weak and trembling. No Vulcan can ever be prepared."
Archer listened, but didn't seem to grasp the complexity. Sovok decided to take the next logical step. Holding his hand steady over the psi-points of the captain's face, he asked almost as if the answer wasn't important.
"You will permit me?"
When Archer gave a single head nod, Sovok's elongated fingers pressed down on his face. Darkness enveloped his eyes and he began to chant the ancient words the captain had only heard T'Pol say.
"My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts."
The two were one.
Saaya and V'Lin walked to a room out of the range of Sovok and Archer. Almost as if it was a mystical ceremony, Saaya lit candles and incense to scent the room.
V'Lin sat on the guest bed and patted the place next to her.
"T'Pol, you will forgive me, but as one of the proctors of the challenge I must ascertain whether this is the Pon Farr."
"You indicated you knew this to be true," T'Pol whispered.
"I must confirm it," V'Lin shot back.
Shyly, T'Pol agreed and seated herself next to her aunt.
V'Lin rubbed her hands together and then wiggled her fingers before touching her niece's face. Almost immediately, the old woman felt the rush of fire – the kind that embodied passion. It was intense and almost prompted her to break free, but she persisted.
Flame. Flame as hot as the magma that bubbled in Mt. Setal. The pressure was building … and building … and the lava rising toward the top. Although it did not threaten to overflow it was near its peak, almost ready to explode and send fire in all directions. The flame was desire and it yearned to break free.
Bedlam had not yet set in, but reason occasionally eluded her. Her memory would come and go, tricking her into thinking she was well and then it would lure her into the inferno … to be consumed.
She burned.
V'Lin's thoughts rang out through the air and in T'Pol's mind. "I feel the fire, T'Pol. The burning has only started. It is newly kindled, but your body has simmered for the past two weeks. It caused you to attempt to further suppress your emotions, all of them, trapping them."
"Yes."
"When you reached Vulcan … with him … your body urged you to capitulate. Having his mind intertwine with you prompted you to seek refuge with him."
"Yes," she whispered.
"You have chosen him to relieve you of the fire."
"Yes."
"You are aflame for him and him alone. Korin did not stir you. No other man does."
"I burn for Jonathan alone."
"Then your path is clear."
V'Lin's hands fell away from the young Vulcan's face. "You must take him to your bed as your mate until the fever passes."
Hearing the words, "take him to bed" caused her to shiver. Yes, I want him.
"He is not Vulcan, so his body will not be set ablaze with the same intensity as yours. And in the days to come, you will need … intensity."
Without meaning to, T'Pol said, "He is always intense."
V'Lin raised her eyebrow, a little shocked at the confession.
Saaya spoke so quietly the words barely registered. "What can we do to prevent her from killing him in the frenzy?" When both V'Lin and T'Pol turned their heads to her, she explained herself. "Humans are not as strong as Vulcans."
"We can leave Jonathan with restraints," V'Lin said.
T'Pol puckered her brow, but didn't object. At least once a year someone on Vulcan died during the mating ritual. It was the only action of murder, other than the kal'i'fee that was allowed without prosecution.
"Listen to me," V'Lin said. "It is important you indulge your lust as soon as the emotion comes upon you. Do not wait or be stingy, give in. Your life … and his depends on it."
"Yes."
"It seems, by the way he tried to spar with Korin, that he is heeding your call. Do not restrain your voice when speaking to his mind and do not allow his mind to fall mute. Keeping a connection between you is imperative."
The youngest of the three Vulcans shook her head. "I have kept that link open to the best of my abilities. I have learned the … consequences of having his thoughts to me and mine to his impeded."
V'Lin then drew up her mouth in a bow and risked a quick look to Saaya before leveling her eyes at her niece. "Do not become embarrassed of anything you do or say during this time. Your mouth and body speak and act without reason."
T'Pol blinked. "I'll try to keep that in mind."
And then the aunt said something almost so low that the other women weren't sure she said it. "This experience can be … pleasurable if you allow it to be."
"Pardon me?" Saaya asked.
Then V'Lin said with a little more conviction, "Saaya, I know you conceived the twins during your first mating cycle. I assume there was some enjoyment from that experience?"
Saaya's eyes went wide, and then with only a flick of her elegant brow, she said, "Sovok says enjoyment is an emotion. However … I have … experienced … that emotion."
T'Pol, instead of listening to her aunts engage in what might be 'Vulcan humor,' settled on something disturbing. She asked what had really been on her mind.
"What happens with the challenge? Will you approve of him as my bondmate?"
"The challenge will continue when your … fever has dissipated."
"Even after our physical union and the deepening of our bond, you would deny me?"
Saaya spoke up for V'Lin, saying what must've been on her aunt's mind. "We do not know if it will deepen, T'Pol. Pon Farr may've forced a union that would not be there."
"That is illogical. I know it has intensified."
"Vulcans and species from other worlds are rarely able to …."
T'Pol almost frowned. "The only advice you have for me is how and when to be pleasured?"
V'Lin furrowed her brow. "We're trying to help you save your life."
"I think only Jonathan can help do that."
With sadness in her eyes, V'Lin tried to explain herself. "We're not attempting to make this difficult for you …."
"Surely you have seen his strength of character, protection and care for me. What more must you see to approve of our relationship?"
V'Lin said, "Only one thing really."
The younger Vulcan raised her brows, waiting for a response, but received none. Trying to ignore the desire building in her, her eyes met the floor. As her cheeks held a dark green, V'Lin must've noticed what was wrong.
"You need him."
T'Pol nodded only slightly. "It was foolish to come tonight. I wished to tell Sovok in person. I didn't think he'd believe me."
V'Lin shook her head. "I was unsure you knew the flame was alive within you. Our men are set ablaze quickly, but we women are slowly consumed by fire." Pausing she looked at the bed. "I grieve that I caused you embarrassment."
Turning her eyes to her aunt, she allowed them to shine. "You could never disgrace me."
Sovok closed his eyes and fell into Archer's mind. Even through the link, the captain could feel the Vulcan's mild disgust at the joining.
Chaos the voice said.
Sovok spoke aloud, confirming what T'Pol had already indicated. "Yes, the burning. It is there … but not as strong as a Vulcan's."
Bizarre images flooded Archer's mind. They were visions of insanity – male Vulcans fighting … armed with something that resembled speared, but with a fanned blade at one end and an anvil at the other; Vulcan women crawling on the floor begging for sex – their cheeks and lips darkened to the color of summer leaves; and men and women biting each other hard enough to draw blood and then smiling, engrossed in pleasure.
"Our minds are ripped away from us," Sovok said. "It causes the mating to become fierce and sometimes gruesome."
Suddenly the images were gone and Sovok's hands joined his side. The captain panted. "I didn't know …."
"Yes, the want can be overwhelming."
Archer only nodded in agreement.
"Our society is based on two roles. It is the role of the Vulcan male to satisfy and dominate. It is the role of the Vulcan female to allure and submit. These roles are more important during the mating process and will help you to both survive. Do you understand my meaning?"
"I think so."
"T'Pol will ask you to satisfy her many times over, and you must – or she will die. Do you think you can gratify her?"
Feeling like his health teacher was explaining the birds and the bees to him, he shied away only slightly. "Does T'Pol need … to … errr … become … well … pregnant?"
"No," he said with near distaste. "But, it is vital she receive your biological matter."
He blinked several times over. Biological matter?
"Do you understand me?" Sovok asked. "I am referring to your –"
"Yes, I understand."
"Do you think you can do this for her?"
Grabbing at his collar, he nodded his head. "I think so."
"You must be certain. Vulcan males can produce large amounts of this matter in a short amount of time."
Archer's eyes widened and he gave a slight cough. "How … much … does … she … need?"
"She may require you as many as twenty times in one day."
His jaw came unhinged. What?!
"Thankfully, it only lasts seven days."
Twenty times every day for seven days?!!
"Is your human anatomy not up to the task? We could ask Korin or another unmarried male to assist."
Korin?! "No. She's mine." Mine?
"Yes, you understand. You claim her because you burn for her. Those who have a connection are thrust into the other's mating ritual. Her body and mind call out to you."
"Yes." It was confusing why he "owned" T'Pol. That certainly wasn't something he'd thought before … not until he reached the planet, but the words struck a chord: it was the truth.
"When a woman's fever is high, it can be quite … taxing. By confirming your interest, you are promising to keep her alive."
Archer stared ahead. "Fever?"
"It is called the plak-tow. And when she enters that phase, the mating will be chaotic and frenzied. You may lose track of the days. You must help her no matter how weary you are, and you will be quite tired. Even Vulcans find this exhausting."
"You … lose track of … days?"
"That is correct. She will be more alluring than she has ever seemed to you – radiant, her hair glowing and her scent intoxicating. Even more than now."
Lose track of days?!
"Since you are committed to seeing this through, perhaps V'Lin can supply you with food and drink. However, there will be little opportunity to eat. Sometimes the mating lasts nearly a day without stop."
"Without stop?"
"Yes. And she may provide restraints. T'Pol could kill you in the mating throws."
"Uhm …."
"Do you have any questions of me?"
Archer sat, stunned, wondering what to say when T'Pol appeared with her aunts. The women looked like girls at a prep school dance, huddled together sharing the secrets of the universe with only each other … their gender. Meanwhile, the boys looked serious as Archer tried to recover from the shock of everything he'd been told.
T'Pol leaned over to his ear. "We need to return home."
Sovok stood. "We are finished. T'Pol shut yourself in your house and do not come out until the need has passed." Shooting his eyebrow into his forehead, he said, "We do not need a repeat of our dinner where Korin was attracted to your scent."
"I will shut myself inside."
Both Archer and T'Pol rose and headed to the door. His feet almost stumbled with bafflement as hers quickly tapped against the tiled floor; she needed him home quickly.
V'Lin, as if to comfort him, said, "Jonathan, I will come by tomorrow with stimulants, food and restra … and other things to assist you."
"Uhm, all right."
"She'll reach her," she looked at Sovok and chose her words carefully "zenith in most likely two days. We should arrange for a doctor to see you the next day."
"I have a ship's physician." He'd only be too happy to be involved with this.
"Good. He must see only you. Keep T'Pol out of sight … although it seems you already have that instinct."
T'Pol grabbed his hand and tugged him outside. My mother's sister and father's brother's wife tell me that I should give in when I feel the earliest sign. I need you, aisha.
"If you are unable to give her your biological matter, contact me immediately. I will arrange for someone to help her," Sovok added as the two scrambled for the shuttle.
Oh, God.
"Good night," said Saaya.
"I believe the phrase – good luck is appropriate?" V'Lin asked.
Archer nodded and climbed into the shuttle. T'Pol seemingly sprinted into it, began the protocols and made a hasty departure.
Sovok's face turned stoic and his eyebrow curled as the vehicle sped away. Saaya watched her husband's face and spoke in Vulcan. "Do you think they will survive?"
"Unknown."
Saaya added very quietly a few words. "V'Lin, you did not tell T'Pol the chances of him being able to satisfy her were small. Even Vulcan males have difficulty accommodating the demands of a Vulcan woman."
V'Lin suppressed a smile. "I spent this afternoon reading about human physiology. Would it surprise you to know the human male's can … satisfy more than a Vulcan?"
Saaya raised both eyebrows. "Is that so?"
"It appears humans engage in this activity more often."
Saaya spoke again. "I had no idea."
"Besides, I believe Archer, despite his jealousy, would allow Korin to help her." V'Lin shook her head, looking down at her feet. "I fear for him. She is stronger and to allure him may accidentally cause him serious damage. I hope they heed our warning and give in quickly."
Saaya sighed. "Indeed."
"Still. I have yet to see a relationship like theirs since … well, the two of you were young."
"The night is late. Your presence was not as unnecessary as I once thought it to be," Sovok said after a few seconds of silence.
Taking the hint, V'Lin wrapped her purple robes around her and headed for the door. "I will ensure they are cared for until your test, Sovok."
"Acceptable," he said.
Saaya gave the Vulcan greeting as V'Lin returned it and walked away. Her eyes filled with blackness and Saaya swayed to her husband. "This reminds me of my first Pon Farr."
Staring at the door, he folded his arms across his chest. She continued, "We were only bonded a year and my parents loaned us their cottage at Lake Far'har. We were alone. And you, husband, were nervous and protective."
"Anxiety is an emotion. Protective – yes, it is the way of the Vulcan man."
Her finger rubbed the tip of his ear and he spoke to her without emotion. "We are too old to burn."
"Burn with the Pon Farr? Yes. Too old to burn? I hope not. I hope never."
With the smallest hint of amusement in his eyes, he turned to her. "Mating out of cycle is illogical."
"And so is finding you exceptionally pleasing. And yet the irrational thought is there."
His raised two fingers in the air. "Indeed. Even I have … irrational thoughts."
As their fingers touched, she lured him into their bedroom and whispered into his pointed ear. "Besides our care for each other out of cycle produced Stor and T'Pek."
The Vulcan replied dryly, "Some of our greatest achievements."
"We agree."
"Although I wonder what was more satisfying, the achievement or the path to achievement." His eyes held the smallest of fires and she gathered his hands at her mouth.
"Do not be too hard on T'Pol. It's obvious she cares for him as much as I care for you. And it is most likely as illogical."
"Let us not talk of them. Come to me," he whispered. "I wish to prove our bond is not just logical, but … satisfying."
"Satisfaction is an emotion."
"With my bondmate, I need not hide every emotion," he said as he closed the door behind them in case their youngest came home early the next morning.