The Prince
Chapter 17
All was quiet in the citadel as the elder prepared her nightly meditation. With age, and the completion of her kolinhar generations ago, she found no real need for sleep. And deep meditation served as its own reward.
Something weighed on her that night; she could not quite identify it. Perhaps it was the earlier events of the evening. T'Pau shifted under her heavy robes. There was a chill in the still air. She noted the silence. It was strange. Uneasy.
She settled herself onto a pillow, ignited a match and dropped it into the fire pot. The flames illuminated her room in dancing oranges, reds and blues...
She closed her eyes.
Where her normal white array of calm usually existed there was black. … Smoldering, painful black.
There was…fear. Grief. Sorrow. Regret. Turmoil...
T'Pau's eyes snapped open. She had not felt such conflict since…Amanda…no. Sarek.
She closed her eyes and focused…There were two figures…drowning. Falling…The man, holding what looked to be a baby… called out to her…T'Pau opened her eyes and rose quickly to her feet.
She moved quickly to her chamber door; her guard stood outside. "Prepare transport. We must go to the fortress."
II
He needed help. But he couldn't leave his sa-fu. Sarek believed prayer to be illogical, and had often said the same to his wife as she knelt beside their bed every night, head bowed eyes closed.
He remembered the first time he had inquired about her strange actions. "I am praying, Sarek," was her reply.
He understood the concept. But to whom? He asked as much.
"To God." In her mind it was simple. It was not so to Sarek.
"You pray to a deity you have never seen. Nor do you have evidence in. I find this illogical."
Amanda merely smiled. "I prayed for a man from the stars. God brought you. I prayed for a family of my own. He gave us Spock. I'd say God has answered all my prayers. I see his evidence every day when I look at you and him. I'd say God is real."
He said nothing more. It was illogical.
Now, though, as he stared at the broken figure of his man-child, he acted on what humans call faith. He knelt next to his son, settling, unbeknownst to him, in the same place where, hours earlier, Amanda had comforted a tearful Nyota.
Sarek believed prayer illogical. But for the first time in his life, he prayed for help. It was the second most illogical moment of his life.
III
T'Pau had stepped across shards of glass as she made her way to the east wing. She was being called there. The sight that greeted the elderly matriarch in those chambers would haunt her for the rest of her days. There was still blood on the walls – green, as well as blood on the bed – red. The ancient chairs and wardrobe that had decorated the room now lay in splinters and daggers across the room. She sniffed, smelling sweat, and struggle and sex. This was not what so disconcerted T'Pau. She had born witness to brutality before. No…
It was the sight of two figures in the corner, crouched on the floor. One naked, rocking, and crying; the other trying desperately to control him, while fighting for control himself.
Sarek heard her approach.
"T'Pau…" his voice, raspy and broken. He stared at her, fear, pure and unadulterated in his eyes. She had not seen such an expression on her tempestuous son since he was an infant. The sight of his usually proud, arrogant stance now so reduced burned itself into her mind. Her eyes snapped to her grandson. As she examined him closely, she perceived what had happened without being told.
He was in the same state they had found Sarek in years ago: wandering the desert, naked and lost, after his assault on his wife. This was the same, she was sure of it.
She turned to her guard.
He nodded in silent acknowledgement and moved towards Sarek, grasping his arm and slowly pulling him away from the child.
"Let me go. I will not leave him," Sarek commanded, regaining a semblance of control.
"It is important that you leave us, Sarek. I will tend him," T'Pau replied firmly, yet with the gentle tones she only used with family.
Sarek stood tall, facing her with an even eye. "I have left him too many times, T'Pau. I will not leave him again."
The matriarch said nothing, dismissing the guard with a wave of her hand. And it was just the three of them.
She leaned in close to Spock, to pick up what he was whispering. "I have killed her. I have killed her…kill…kill…kill…kill…"
She heaved a sigh and began her work, aware of Sarek's eyes darting from her to Spock and back.
She reached for him. Closing her eyes, she placed her fingers on his meld-points. He shrank from her in fear. "Spock," she spoke firmly, "I grieve with thee. Let me in. Let me in."
Her voice caused his rocking to stop. He did not move. But he did not shrink back either.
She was in his mind, clouded and black…She was seeing him...he wanted her to see…to see… Blue sky…water.…This must be Earth. A young woman appeared before them. A sun-baked brown, with large eyes. She smiled at Spock and grabbed his hand, pulling him close to her. T'Pau was an observer. They were not aware of her presence.
'Spock, come with me!'
'Nyota, I do not understand how you can justify my partaking of such an experience.'
"Spock! You act like I am asking you to dig your own grave! It's just swimming! Think of it as an adventure!" He raised his eyebrow at her but put his foot in the water. ...Fleeting impression followed: the sound the wooden beads in her hair made when she wore it in a traditional style… the way the bridge of her nose crinkled when she smiled… her sense of accomplishment as she mastered a particularly difficult dialect… the easy silence between them as they graded papers together… her never-ending quest to find the perfect combination of spices to make plomeek soup palatable… her sitting with her back against his chest as her repositioned her fingers on his lute…
The scene changed to them walking side-by-side near a large body of water.
She looked up at him and Spock felt warmth radiate through his body. Love. This must be love.
'Spock', she said softly, 'I love you.'
He said nothing, but lowered his head to hers and kissed her slowly. No words. Only feeling…he felt…love. Happiness. Acceptance.
The scene folded and melded to…
Rust browns… desert sand. Vulcan. They were approaching. She felt the beginnings of…fear, anxiety, dread…
She saw the citadel – Hate, anger. She saw…T'Pring. Duty. Defeat. Sorrow… He burned…he needed…she was there…she was all he saw…Anger at himself. Sorrow for his love. Disgust at the naked avarice of T'Pring's thoughts.
She saw them. The heat. Ponn Farr….
She almost broke away in distaste … "No!" Spock's voice. "You must see…you must know."
She watched….
'You have betrayed me. You have been with others. I can smell them on you!'
'You have no choice Spock. You must have me. I am your only option. You need this now. Or you will die. You will have me.' Her words struck Spock cold, and he released her.
'Are you a true Son of Surak? Your actions in this show you have been tainted by the off-world. Perhaps you reject me because you are inadequate. I have seen that human whore of yours. She cannot satisfy your need. It is as mine. We burn for each other. Do not fight it. To desire a human is not Vulcan. Are you human, or are you Vulcan?'
'I am Vulcan T'Pring, and now you will learn just how much.'
She watched…
He stalked the halls, his blood on fire. Need. Intense need…Her…Yes….There….
He had found her. Soon he would be satisfied…soon…soon…T'Pau heard the scream. And suddenly felt a blocking force not her own come upon them. It was heavy. Powerful. It pushed herout.
She opened her eyes and met empty brown ones staring up at her, wet with tears.
She gathered herself, turning to Sarek, who had been watching silently.
"It is ponn vrie." The words were simple, but she could see that he understood their meaning, as he had years before.
"How, T'Pau? How did this happen? Spock had undergone Ponn Farr before," his tone was calm, although she could read the worry in his eyes. The vrie had nearly claimed him 15 years ago. Now it was coming for his son.
"He is attached to this human, much as you are to yours. His passions are the same. We control those passions so they do not consume us. This you know. His passion for her consumed him. As did yours. He did not feel passion for his first."
T'Pau was not one for words, when silence sufficed. She pondered, her brow furrowing slightly in contemplation. Sarek tilted his head in question.
"Mother, what have you not said?"
"Spock's Ponn Farr…it is early. Too much, too soon. His passion. The return. T'Pring. Come." T'Pau beckoned for Sarek to join her. They sat opposite Spock's still huddled figure. "We must heal him. He must be freed of vrie…"
The two elder Vulcans locked minds with the young one, beginning to work, just as the sun broke the horizon.