The Prince
Chapter 3
It was not a position Spock would have wished himself in. But then, he had had no choice. Other children could choose their life path. His had been made for him. His life was carefully planned. His time carefully constructed. His words carefully mitigated so as to not cause embarrassment to his father.
He was the embodiment of Vulcan decorum. He believed himself to be Vulcan. There was no other way. So he did not understand the words of others as they spoke to him. The words were unfamiliar, yet caused him distress. Whispers of names…whore…traitor…half-breed…echoed silently through the school halls as he passed by.
He once asked his father what those words meant. He received no answer, so he went to his mother. She cried.
He did what was logical. He researched. He learned the definition of whore- his mother. He learned the definition of traitor- his father. He learned the definition of half-breed. Himself.
It took thirty-five times for those words to be spoken for Spock to react. It cost the tormentor his life. That year Spock began his training in the Vulcan martial-art of nashinahr. There were no more taunts, and he was six.
By seven he had completed and excelled at his kaswhan. Four of his counterparts had not done so. Vulcan had claimed them. He passed through Kahn-telan. He now had a wife. And at the age of 18 the rituals were complete. Yes, Spock had completed his tasks. Quietly. Simply. Without complaint.
His father watched carefully. Spock had no choice. He was strong. His father, stronger. He was smart. His father, smarter. He had felt in training his father's hand more than once. It was said to make him strong. He learned emotional control, for the fear of his father's lack of… It. Yes…he was groomed. He knew the ways of his clan.
But he always excelled despite of. It was always whispered. Never said aloud. No one would dare violate his clan in doing so. Spock had nothing to concern himself with, he had been coronated and sealed. Only the brave dare whisper. And so, it was said in shadow.
Until.
Carefully groomed and mitigated, Spock demonstrated none of his father's…characteristics. Physically yes, there was no denying he was his father's child. With human eyes. But Spock had been forced to master emotional control.
He respected Sarek. Liking a person was an emotion, and therefore illogical to acknowledge. Although, Spock thought to himself, That would not be the operative word he chose to describe his father.
No…he had seen too much. Heard too much. He saw his mother's bruises over tired eyes and gingerly steps. He did not comment. If there was an emotion there, he could not describe it…a burning in his being.
His mother told him it was nothing. Spock knew it was something. It happened once every seven years. The first time he had heard the growls and the cries…saw the effects in the morning… he was too young to know what was going on.
Sarek had disappeared by morning. He would not be seen on-world for two months. His mother was damaged. Spock thought about the human physician that had been sent from Earth to tend to her…
Broken carpals, internal bleeding, cracked tibia and massive vaginal scarring. Blood loss. It was quiet then, as he was ushered out the room. The looks he received…pity from the humans, mixed with disgust. And…fear…
That time was spent with his grandmother. He stayed in her presence. Never questioning aloud what had happened. What would become of his mother? His father's role. His disappearance. She recovered. Father returned. It was never discussed. Not even in private. But it haunted him…
He remembered well that time with his grandmother.
Despite her initial reaction to the child's mother T'Pau had instantly loved Spock. No other Vulcan would know of this, love was illogical and therefore did not exist. But, she did love the child. Just as she loved the child's father. And through extension, his wife.
She had gazed upon his face, older than his years and noted he had been forced to be an adult from childhood. But for fleeting moments he had not been able to enjoy the spoils of youth. And now, with this…situation. She had known he was in search of reconciliation of the things he'd seen and heard. The child had to know. He needed to know his father had not tried to kill his mother. T'pau had melded with Spock to showed him what words could not say. She had shown him what one day, his biology would force him to do. To be. And it disgusted him. Shocked him. Scared him. And then, there were no more of the emotions. Because he resolved to not feel...
II
But years later as he stood before the Council Spock felt once again. The words that had haunted him. The things he had seen. Heard…his disadvantage…No. It had been a long time since Spock had a reaction to anything. Never once displaying or acknowledging any emotion. However, he was his father's son after all…"Live Long and Prosper" were the words he hissed in a tone only a Vulcan could muster which carried double-meaning. But the council heard the meaning behind them clear as day…and for once, Spock acknowledged feeling. Something inherited through his very human mother, and very Vulcan father.
He had made his decision. And for the first time, felt free. But as he turned his back on his father and council, he knew there would be hell to pay. They would not let him go easily. And Spock knew meditation was necessary in order to begin the process of escaping.