So, obviously, Martok is the one who knows how Worf really feels for Jadzia and had it in him to tell her, given the current circumstances between her and her strange "friend". About time, too, given it's also obvious she's drawn to him, too, but doesn't know it. And now she's struggling to see if her feelings match - and hopefully patch it up with Worf soon.
Chapter Eight
Dreams
Heat in the air. Bonfires were lit within the walls of this temple as I joined the Martok family in the First City Hall. I could never stop thinking about speaking with General Martok about Worf and myself.
Worf was...in love with me. I had no idea what to think of this. Why - why? I don't know where this came from, but he must be a fool to go as far as this! He knew I would go away sometime soon, and the last time we spoke, nothing went well. We had been avoiding each other for a day, and that was not enough time to dwell much on our parts.
I don't know anymore how to feel. Now I wanted to just call Curzon, no matter him still on the hunt for the Albino, and beg him to take me with him. It was better than this. I no longer cared about how he would respond to my childish behavior.
The fire against my skin, product of the atmosphere, made me pour more perspiration. I've grown to welcome it as the stoke to my body's ember cells. I was thirsty, and not only for bloodwine which was sweet and salty despite the pungent aroma. Glancing around, I took in the hilarity of these Klingon warriors with their wild lion manes and brutal guffaws of laughter as they spoke to each other in their native tongue and drank bloodwine. Women were present, too, and they appeared to be a lot of fun to party with, which made me feel excited now to be here. But there was also Sirella, snide as ever, but she smiled most easily at the other men around her, which Martok did not mind at all.
Worf, however, was not smiling at all, which he was best at doing. I looked at him briefly without turning my face completely around, but upon seeing he was about to turn my way, I quickly adverted my attention ahead. A tiny part of me was hoping he would say something to me, but nothing. I hope Martok was right...
"You look like a goddess."
Gasping internally and keeping my jaw clenched, my head jerked up, and I found myself looking at him for the first time. He was speaking to me! I could hardly believe it. "You look like you could be Lukara incarnate," Worf clarified - and now I could have sworn I saw a smile tugging one corner of his mouth that he tightened into his infamous scowl. Nevertheless, something inside me melted because he called me a goddess...and this was his way of telling me he was sorry.
But it wasn't enough. I wanted to do more now, something better than just words. Something to make sure he NEVER laid a hand on me again.
I would get the chance later, given I heard the drumbeats played by a quartet of warriors on the other side of the room. It was a wondrous, epic tune that I doubt I would ever forget. A collection of war cries sounded as the beats progressed. I felt a hand on my shoulder as well as the force of being turned around to see Sirella's fiery gaze.
"Remember the dance I taught you - and do not fail when your solo time comes," she hissed under her breath. My rage bubbled back to the surface just like that when I narrowed my eyes back at her - and the words slipped through my lips like the sweet wine going into them.
"Don't count on me failing."
Her hold on me loosened, but the competition remained. I turned my back to her then in time to hear the tempo pick up and see two young Klingon females dressed as scantily as I leap into the middle of the room and furiously to the crowd around who shouted to the theme - the Klingon code of honor and life, unquestioned loyalty and dying for your people.
The performance ended, and the applause to burst was monstrous - and monstrous in a positive Klingon point of view. The drums caused my blood to pound, travel to my heart and back out again. I was on fire because of the magic of the music, and I clapped excitedly with everyone else...even Worf.
And then, more drums picked up because of the arrival of the chancellor himself. A collective chant rose to the heavens as their divine ruler joined them all: "Gowron! Gowron!"
"Alas, my friends," he called out, raising his hand for silence, "tonight we celebrate a great victory for one man who has loyally stood by my side all these years and many a fine others with him, with Kahless himself looking down with his blessings. I raise my bloodwine to Martok, my supreme commander and brother-in-arms!"
Now it was Martok's name being sung, the music picking up again, and something in my mind nudged me that my time to dance was coming. My nerves itched as I recalled the "training" I had, albeit briefly, by Sirella's stern lectures. Klingon dancing wasn't precisely choreographed, but it could not be foolishly thrown over, either. However, knowing the complete chronicle of Kahless from his rise as Emperor to his taking of Lady Lukara as his wife - and he was not of royal blood - and how he defended his people up until Molor took over and Kahless would rather die than live under that creature's reign...
The Unforgettable...the title of this particular song rang through my brain and revved my engine. Unforgettable being the keyword as I willed myself forward when Gowron announced to all the guests that a "special young one will do the honors of dancing for the general" - and none other than me.
All eyes on me - I knew so many of the males were eyeing me like a fresh piece of meat they could slap and then chew to satisfy their urges later - I gracefully pranced on the middle of the wide floor which was for me and me alone. The drums vibrated my senses as my body went light with the melody, the story of the rise coming to my mind. My arms swayed over my head and the front of my body, then came down to clasp before me as if in prayer. My legs kicked out when the beat picked up with the operatic tale of his and Lukara's fight at Qam-Chee. I was in the moment, reenacting the events in my mind during the dance as if I was actually there. I could almost picture the couple standing over the corpses of the enemies that stormed them in the Imperial Palace...
My body was on fire by the time I slowed down and knelt on one knee, bowing my head, only for a brief pause. I knew I was sweating, for I felt the drops roll down my body, and my hair was plastered to my head despite its fashion. When the drums picked up again, I raised my head and found myself looking ahead, aware of the appraisal around me - but it was Worf whose attention I held most of all.
Now that I burned even hotter beneath those eyes, I saw his encouragement, his support and everything that I needed. I also saw something more because of me dancing for him, Martok and the chancellor as well as the other warriors and their wives. Suddenly, it was as though the performance was all for him...
My body jerked backwards again and on both feet as I swirled around with my hips going about on their own volition. I never danced much in my life, save for free-flowing style just for fun. I felt that I could never stop now, even when this song ended - but it had to be by the time it was over, and now people were cheering...for me.
I was weary to my bones, but I glanced over to where Martok and Gowron stood, their teeth bared in proud grins as they applauded for me and my gift in bringing the tale of Kahless to life alone on this night. This called for bloodwine and targ to feast - but first, I needed some air. I wasn't tolerable to the heat as the Klingons were, but it wasn't like I would remain outdoors forever. I was just getting away from the excitement and aftermath when I was once again stopped by Lady Sirella. She wasn't cold this time, but she was stern as ever.
"You did well, Jadzia."
I blinked and stared at her in surprise. Somehow, I could not think of a word to say to her...and then I felt a small smile tug my lips. There might be hope yet...
I don't believe I have felt so exhilarated since my first training session with Worf, who was still back at the party. I crossed the hallways lit with torches and got gazes from men, but none of them stopped me. I did not halt until I was out a doorway that showed night and the wilderness calling, but I would not risk my life tonight by going out there to get chewed to bits by targ, or anything else. My hair was stuck to my head that it frustrated me. Reaching up, I tore out the pins and pulled the braids from their loops, curls falling freely over my back and shoulders; fresh air washed over my skin like rain.
I found myself looking up at the night heavens, seeing the stars twinkling more than before...and then a face formed that I cried out and stumbled backwards. The wind picked up, wisping my hair behind my shoulders. A Klingon man appeared in my vision, and I knew this was no dream this time. "Kahless," I whispered, lowering my voice so no one heard me.
"This is all real, Jadzia," he answered. "You have performed the tale of my life greatly, took a next step in ensuring your worthiness. The hardest is to come."
And then he was gone. I knew what he meant now by "hardest" - and Worf, none other.
I had closed my eyes in thought. Emotion was a good thing to have, but also terrible because of my predicament. I had always felt the following for Worf ever since I met him: admiration, intrigue, safety - all things warm and positive in a way I never recalled in a man. But love? I never thought of it that way, and there was still...
His voice broke me from my thoughts. "You were as divine as Lukara herself," he said, but I didn't turn around to look at him, instead lowering my eyes to the ground below. "Heroic and grand in one."
"Is that the best you can say in place of 'beautiful'?" I don't know why I snapped now, but I suppose it was the best I could do as a petty way to get back at him. I pushed my hair away out of habit, which earned another comment.
"Your hair," Worf breathed, all traces of hostility forgotten now and so quickly. "I have never seen such exquisite -"
Furious, I spun around and glared at him with the ferocity of a she-cat. "Is this the best you can do to apologize to me?!" I exploded. "You take my arms and you shake me, and we try to avoid each other but lose the opportunity! Now you watch me perform, think I wear this -" I motioned over my scantily dressed form with one hand. "- for you just to take your breath away, I dance for you and all the men and women, even the general - and now you're calling me graceful and my hair lustrous? That's a strange way of apologizing on your part," I stated, folding my arms across my chest.
He stared at me for a moment before sighing. "I was only observing, and what I have observed can't make me hate you forever. But -" Now his anger was back, but his voice remained low. "- you never should have been where you don't belong. But I can't condone nearly harming you because of my anger."
I was fed up with his excuses. That's all this was: excuses. I was fragile compared to him, no matter my growing physical structure. "Well, now that we have THAT out of the way, who are those people I saw in the pictures?" I asked.
"They were...friends I have not seen in some years now," Worf replied, coming to stand beside me now and placing a hand on the balustrade. "Richard Bashir and his wife Amsha, and their son Julian who is the same age as I in human years. It's a rather long story, and more complicated than I can tell you, Jadzia. Now can you understand?"
He was pushing my limit with giving me vague answers, but at least he told me that those humans in the pictures were...old friends of his. Maybe I could ask Martok if he knew, if not Worf. But would I betray him again in this manner? Another mistake like that was not worth permanently destroying this. "Yes," I answered.
I reeled back when I saw the ghost of a smile forming on his face. He was smiling now...because of ME. I could hardly believe this. I had finally gotten Worf, the scowling Klingon doctor, to smile. Suddenly, I was not mad at him anymore, and I was smiling with him - but that left one thing to do, and a really dark side of me that I had no idea existed was unleashed. I reached for his dagger at his belt - for show's sake and in case any fights could break out - and I pointed it at his chest, with little success at getting a reaction from him.
"I swear to Kahless, Worf," I snarled, tightening my grip on the dagger and a part of me wishing I could stab him just for the sake of satisfaction, "if you EVER touch me like that again or even TALK to me like that again...I will cut out your heart and have it for breakfast either while it is still beating or not!"
He rumbled with laughter in his throat. "How bold and daring, Ensign Idaris," he said, "and enticing."
"E-enticing?" I gasped at his equally surprising boldness, but I got no further response as my mouth was covered with his. Heat washed over my skin and headed for my pounding heart. The knife against his heart loosened, my hand dropping to my side yet keeping my fingers tight. Eventually, my digits slackened and let the weapon clatter loudly to the concrete ground so my fingers could find their way to cup both sides of his face and bring him closer...
~o~
He let me go and then turned me over so I leaned over the balustrade, my back arched and the adrenaline coursing through my body as he leaned over me, still looking into my eyes. I grasped either side of the railing with both my hands, the danger frightening and intoxicating at the same time. I was developing a taste for the unknown trouble ahead.
This was nothing I ever expected of our first time.
It had to be quick, though, for anyone could come out here and find us. For all we knew, Martok or Sirella, perhaps Gowron himself, could be looking for us or even asking for us...
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Worf asked, his voice rough with clear passion and longing. "Now might not be a good idea."
"You're right," I agreed. "Let's find someplace quiet from here." My body was fueled with fire, desiring his, and the pooling between my thighs could not be avoided, but I was nervous at pointing this part out to him. I gasped loudly when I felt one of his hands hike up my skirt, caressing my bare thigh and finding the spot, touching my sweetly sensitive womanly place...
~o~
These dreams and visions were really getting to me; I was getting more than fired up. This latest one involved what happened five nights ago, only it didn't go that far. I had wanted him to, and I could tell he had as well, but we both knew that the time then was wrong. Yet my body hungered for his, and it got worse when we both returned to the party together, my new state being that my hair was freed from its pinned and braided confides, wild as the rest of them.
Things got all the more hectic from there. I was roaring with life with the rest of the Klingons from the moment we returned for the rest of the night. I was more than prepared for a migraine the next morning, if it applied for all of them. When I let myself enjoy the life of the party, Worf was back to being himself, just enjoying the bloodwine while keeping his eyes on me so many times. He had a talent for holding himself back...but there was also a way to get him to lower his guard, risky as it was. I was risking myself most of all.
I grunted when I noticed how my body was still aching upon waking up now. My breasts tingled, but below my waist the most. I knew what this was, and solo touch would not solve it even though I managed numerous times in my life. I was not a child or adolescent anymore; he was a grown man, but he had never done this before, either. This was not a youthful urge; this was a mature longing.
A longing that I couldn't ignore anymore, but what about Worf?
The song playing which Jadzia witnesses at the beginning of the party is actually a real song composed by Adrian von Ziegler, called "Bushido" - it is the Japanese samurai "way of the warrior" for the moral of loyalty and honor until death. I always knew the song befitted the Klingons somehow, and as soon as I learned the meaning of the word, it hit home one hundred percent. :)
The other song Jadzia dances to is "The God of Thunder" by Antti Martikainen, which was an epic tune of Thor and I thought was a fantastical parallel to the story of Kahless - and the image conjured up was none other than JADZIA dancing to the rhythm.
In episode 8 of Outlander season 1, Claire the leading lady received a serious beating of disobedience by her husband - and in retaliation when they make up by having rough sex, she takes his sword and puts it to his heart and threatens to cut his heart out and feast on it for breakfast if he whipped her again. :D Talk about the perfect idea for Jadzia.
