Chapter Seven
Solace
I could not take this anymore. My feelings were hurt enough as it was. Worf wouldn't even talk to me, and I was tired of being treated like fine china.
In the several days to follow, he avoided making eye contact with me, but that didn't stop me from looking at him in hopes he would someday soon put his big pants on and talk to me.
Days prior when he tended to my arm as he did to my leg in the beginning, he tried his best to avoid touching my skin too much, which disappointed me greatly. I don't understand why I feel like this, given I never paid attention to men much. I did notice his fighting technique, too: aggressive, passionate and thirsty - that could be interpreted in many forms besides for blood - but also trying to be careful. Because he cared for injuries daily, he was hesitant about inflicting harm on another.
"I'm not a true soldier," he'd said, "even though I try to be. I loathe being weak, so I trained in the ways of the warrior when I was barely into my young adulthood. Martok showed me. He and my mother were very close despite their differences in bloodline." The time he raised his eyes to meet with mine would be the last time for a while to look at me when he finished. "But it's another reason I have to refrain true physical harm on another in my care - and on another I dare to have feelings for."
To make things even more interesting, we all received word that General Martok was returning home.
"This house must be prepared for his return," Sirella announced to us all - myself, Worf and the entire staff - when we gathered in the hall. "And after his return, Chancellor Gowron will call for the honor in the Hall to celebrate the victory." Then her eyes shifted to me icily without a blink before she dismissed us all.
I found myself looking after Worf when he turned his back to me and started in the opposite direction. He was heading back to work; sometimes, I wonder if work is all he does, before I mentally slapped myself for thinking so stupidly. Of course, all he does is work, and turns on his favorite operas when I am not around - and one of them happens to be Curzon's favorite Barak-Kadan and some of the others he'd showed to me.
No one was following me, and General Martok would show up tomorrow morning. The servants were busy getting the house ready, and no one was really paying attention to me, not even Sirella. And Worf was still avoiding me. I saw this as my chance.
I was going for his rooms.
~o~
Certain rooms and chambers in the house I was not allowed to go to consisted of the master bedchamber as well as the one I was making my way to: Worf's room. Surprisingly enough, his rooms were located on the isolated east section at the topmost level. There was hardly anything or anyone there, but that did not mean this part did not have any grand tapestries and pottery and the likes. There were also great portraits of the ancestors of the couple, the latter being the most recent as I reached the end.
The walls were red, darkening into mahogany as I progressed down the long hallway until I reached the one room that was unlike the other doors not closed and locked. I held my breath as I stood before it. I had not yet faced his wrath, so I was indeed scared if he discovered what I was up to...
Damn it, I wasn't a frightened child anymore!
I asked for the lock to be overrode, then gave my clearance, and the door opened. Technology not much different from the Federation's came in handy. But the fact I was now four steps into this place did not make my rapidly pounding heart steady.
I found nothing suspicious about these rooms, other than seeing how immaculate it was despite a male living in here. Bookshelves were stacked rows upon rows with medical knowledge and history as well, some books being a collection of tales of chivalry and a couple romances which made me laugh to myself. I could hardly believe this. The only true Klingon décor was the two bat'leth on the wall, but nothing indicating his Klingon half and his father...
He really was alone in this place. But I was not going to cry while I was here.
My attention was diverted to the two sure things on one of the tables beside the couch. While I saw no Klingon portraits save for one of Sirella and a man who had to be her husband, as well as a younger Klingon male who might be their son, there was not even one of Worf himself, but of two human beings - a man and woman, married obviously. They had to be very important to Worf, but how? Friends?
Another image caught my attention on the other end of the couch. This one was of a young human man...a handsome one. My cheeks flushed when I took in the details of his face and the golden skin, his soft waving dark hair and that irresistible smile...but the eyes...
They were amber...like Worf's.
"What are you doing here?!"
I turned around fast and almost screamed when I saw HIM storming my way, and I quickly moved away from the picture of the strange young man at the same time Worf stalked in front of it and hid it from me with his entire body, turning his head around halfway and growling in his throat, eyes burning lava fire. I wanted to run but couldn't. He barked at me again. "WHY?!"
"I - I'm sorry," I stammered. "I didn't mean any harm..." What could I say now? What could I think? I could do neither at the present.
"I told you not to meddle in this!" he bellowed, turning around entirely and grabbing my forearms, shaking me hard. "Do you realize what could have happened?!"
He wasn't the one whom I began to care about, but a beyond furious monster that I didn't want to be around now, whom I tried to get away from and began to cry in spite of myself. "Please, let me go!" I cried. "I didn't mean to!" Something inside me burst then and there. "I wanted to know about you when you would not tell me a thing!" It made me a little stronger, but it only made his temper worse than before. In response, he let me go but tossed me to the floor. He was not able to control himself at the moment; that Klingon side of him had come out with full fury that I scrambled to my feet before he could grab me again. I was out the door when I heard him roar out after me to keep out.
I don't know what happened, but I knew it was my fault. I shouldn't have gone in there, and now look what happened. I knew he wouldn't go to Lady Sirella, but it wasn't like anything would get better. Not for a long time, I knew.
I just hoped Curzon would be done with his mission soon so he could come and get me, and I could get back to my life away from this place. Away from Sirella - away from Worf.
~o~
I was more heartbroken than ever, as I know I shattered a friendship I had here forever; I tried to comfort myself with the fact that I wouldn't see him again once Curzon came back, but it would be a much longer time to come, so in the meantime, I was left to suffer internally as I knew I hurt Worf more than he hurt me.
I wanted so much to be comforted, but those I loved were far from me; I also wanted to go back to Worf and get on my knees before him, but I don't think he'd forgive me that easily. I knew that from experience with men. I should keep away from him for as long as it needed to be. But today, we would not have that opportunity, given the great general himself - and a favorite of Chancellor Gowron's - had arrived today, and everyone had the house ready. I myself was dressed as best as I could be. My dress was fitted to my body, the vest being fur, and my hair braided tightly as a lady had to formally present herself for events like this.
Even though I didn't look at Worf, would not let him see my pain - not now, at least - I could feel his eyes looking me over from head to toe. I burned beneath his gaze.
Don't despair, Jadzia, the voice of Kahless spoke from somewhere above me. The way is always a painful one.
How right those words were, for I agonizingly suppressed the rain that would pour down my cheeks and make me feel weaker than before. Klingons never tolerated weakness, and I wasn't one of them - but I despised it with everything I had. I just wished the way out could be showed so it was done with, but that was never how life worked.
"The general - my husband -" Sirella spoke saucily to us all, standing in front of us but with her back facing so she could be the first to greet her husband whom she had not seen in many months. "- has arrived."
And so the great man himself arrived, tall and powerfully built, and his wild mane all over the place. I studied his rugged features and suppressed the gasp at the sight of his left eye; there was nothing but closed over flesh, indicating he lost his eye in battle somehow. But he was back and better, ready for a short time's break to spend at home. I knew he was a wonderful hero, but could I see him as someone I could trust?
"My lady," he said gruffly, smiling, as he greeted his shrew of a wife.
"You've put on weight, and your hair is going gray," she answered, making him laugh. The reunion wasn't as...romantic as expected, but after being wed so many years, the spark lessened. He burst out laughing in amusement, replying that his deterioration was proceeding apace, and if it satisfied her, he would die in a year if it would make her happy.
Well, this just gave me a new insight on Klingon mates. They loved violence in their intimate rituals - violence, violence, violence in everything. Try and use blood in the same manner three times fast.
So, here is Klingon romance in terms of the stories and in real life: definitely sweet and powerful in the mind and heart, but in your very existence, it was by far more brutal as life itself.
Martok accepted his wife's hand after stepping completely over the threshold of return, then gave his entire attention to the rest of us. "Well, what can I say? It's good to be back after a glorious battle. The enemy did not even stand a chance, and it's one story to tell." When his attention shifted to the man beside me, he roared with proud laughter. "Worf, my friend! Come here, will you?" He extended his strong arms to which the younger Klingon walked over without a word and let himself be enveloped.
"I am pleased you have not been killed, General," Worf answered with a slight bow to his head.
"And I spared you the trouble of repairing my arm this time!" Martok replied, chuckling in his throat now. I softened a little, seeing he had a great sense of humor unlike the other one - and now I was at the center of his attention. "Ah, Jadzia, if I am not mistaken?"
He was in front of me in a flash, taking me by surprise and catching me into his suffocating embrace. I felt like the wind had been knocked out of my lungs when I tried to gasp for air, choking my own laughter in the process. I could stop my fears of this warrior now that I felt welcomed by him. He set me down, understanding he could not crush a small thing like me, but he really liked me. "And the great Curzon Dax leaves a magnificent creature like you to learn how to live among us, didn't he? I like you already! Worf, you must sit with me tonight and tell me all about this one..."
Sirella huffed, then barked in Klingonese at the servants to get back to business. "I shall leave that to you three, husband," she stated before taking her leave. I was left alone now with General Martok and the man who was not at all pleased to be in my presence; as a result, I fared no better when this great man led us both into the sitting room and brought out a bottle of bloodwine.
~o~
Given I was a living member of Martok's house - as a guest - I still had to participate in the victory celebration at the Great Hall. Sirella insisted on me wearing this rather scandalous and uncomfortable garment if I wanted to be there for the support and honor of her husband and his comrades who fought and returned alive alongside him.
I could hardly believe what I had been turned into when I looked at myself in the mirror. The brassiere was harsh metal with exotic swirls, my forearms wrapped with golden snake coils, and my hair was ridiculously braided into a crown. The skirt was slit on both sides so I could move easily; it was made of burgundy silk and reached my ankles, where my boots also touched. I don't even know how to feel other than uncomfortable, which was the best word of choice.
Uncomfortable, rubbing my skin - and yet, I looked like a much stronger woman entirely.
I felt like one.
"Jadzia, you would make a brilliant Klingon woman."
I turned around to see the general himself standing there instead of his wife, to which I was relieved. "Thank you, general," I said, "but I am not deserving of such honorable comments. I'm not a Klingon, so that marks me as fragile compared to the rest of you."
He could never stop laughing at me; was it because he wanted to, or because he knew I needed his comic relief? "On the contrary, my girl," he said, walking over and standing beside me. He slapped his gloved hand on my bared shoulder and squeezed it. "I'm nothing like my wife, even though I can't interfere in her domain. Sirella has belittled you, I've seen. She's prideful and arrogant that she takes great pleasure in talking down anyone inferior -" His face split into a toothy grin. "- but that does not mean she can't be struck back."
I scoffed. "If she's like that so much, why did you marry her?" I dared to ask. His smile was gone for a moment before it returned.
"Because even though she fires back at me as well, and I happened to win my share of battles with her as well as allow her to have the upper, final hand...I love Sirella greatly. We Klingons desire honor and glory in battle above all else, but it is never enough without someone to share it with. Honor and prowess in battle can do little for a man or woman alone," he told me tenderly, bringing his other hand to my other shoulder. "Worf has been looking at you in the same manner."
Everything came crashing down then and there.
"Worf!" I drew back, horrified. "But he despises me, general. Has he not told you what I committed recently?" I'd known he'd grown to care for me, but now - he was in love with me? My mind and body - and my heart - were in more turmoil than ever.
"He has, and even though he has yet to speak to you, he regrets how he treated you in response. But he was protecting his territory; sometimes, a being can hurt the one they love without realizing it. It's never the first time anytime." Tears pricked my eyes as I could still feel the pain in my arms when he held me and shook me, but it hadn't been his fault. Another person would call it abuse, even the humans, but it was because of my stupid curiosity. "He hides his solitude in his heart but does not do a fine job at it," Martok stated, humming in thought. "You can see it when you look into his eyes."
"Yes," I answered, barely audible to my own ears. "He's been alone - until I came along, general."
"Ah, you may call me Martok from now on, Jadzia. And please, do an old soldier a favor? This road isn't something you should side-step to take the easy way out. You must go to Worf and beg his forgiveness, confront whatever feelings you have for each other sooner rather than later."
Jadzia's outfit for the celebration was based off of Princess Leia's metal bikini in "Star Wars Episode 6: Return of the Jedi".
It was incredibly hard to do Worf attacking Jadzia as we have never seen him physically lay a hand on her the way he did in the show. As for the picture of the "strange young man", does anyone have an idea who it might be? ;) Things are getting more interesting.
