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The next morning, Ba'el awoke to the sound of the birds singing. She had had an absolutely wonderful time the night before. Undeniably, she could not remember the last time she had laughed so much. Since Worf had left, she found she had hardly smiled at all. But all of that changed when Anne came. She was still head over heels for that distinguished warrior, despite his many faults. Her friend was right, however, and she was more determined than ever to forget him.
Thankfully, it was slowly getting easier each day. Discussing books with Anne had opened up a whole new world to her. True, she liked to read before, but there had not been anyone else around who wanted to analyze and talk about stories. Anne provided different angles, which had never occurred to her. The human girl also had the talent of making everything seem more vivid and exciting. It was a welcome distraction.
Ba'el walked toward the stream for her bath. She giggled to herself as she thought of the drunken sailor raving on and on about the lost treasure map. "Dead men tell no tales!" she whispered to herself.
"Indeed they do not," Dhaval said as he came up behind her.
Ba'el started, as she had not intended for anyone to hear that. "I was just recalling Anne's recitation last night."
The Romulan grinned. "It was amusing," he agreed. "I wonder if all humans are so expressive?"
"I don't know," she answered, though she knew it was a rhetorical question. "But I'm very glad that she is."
"As am I," he said. And then one of his brows ascended upwards. "I am curious as to what she will do when she's finished with those materials. Did you know she's nearly finished the last book now?"
Ba'el nodded. She had been wondering the same thing. "I've wanted something new to read myself," she responded. "I'm going to ask father for some more. He won't mind getting them for me."
"Especially if you're going to be reading to us at dinner on a regular basis," he said slyly. "I also have an idea," he related before she had a chance to react to his previous sentence, "but I will tell you about it later. Enjoy your bath, Ba'el," he said as he continued along his way.
She smiled back at him. "Thank you, Dhaval." Little did he know, he was going to regret that remark about reciting in front of everyone.
"Do you find that you understand Romulans better now?"
Anne looked up from her cozy spot at Dhaval's question. "Yes," was all she said.
"And?" he asked, somewhat impatiently, moving closer into the shade of the tree.
"If I have to read that proverb about everything burning one more time-!" She then burst into laughter at the indignant expression that was beginning to form on his face. "Just kidding!" The Romulan blinked. "Another informative book," she said, "but also another rather biased author."
"That is probably a fair assessment," he conceded with a shrug. "Tell me," he changed the subject, "what did you do, before you came here, I mean." He could have perhaps worded it less bluntly, but it was already out.
Anne's countenance became somber. "I only graduated from college last year," she said.
"What did you study?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.
"English and American Literature, as well as a few languages."
"Ah," Dhaval nodded, "That explains it, then."
"I was in the process of finding a job when...you know." Her voice was becoming quieter.
"What sort of job?"
"Whatever I would have been able to get," she answered. "Perhaps with a newspaper, as an assistant editor. My sister wanted me to look into…" she trailed off. She looked away, but not before he saw a tear roll down her face.
"Forgive me," he blundered. He did not know what else to say. He was unaccustomed to tears, as he had been told his entire life that they were a sign of weakness. And they most definitely were not tolerated in the military. "My curiosity got ahead of my prudence," he explained. "If it's any comfort to you, I can relate to your situation," he attempted again.
She looked up as another tear fell. "Really?" she asked.
"Yes," he answered, squatting down to give her his handkerchief. "My parents and sisters were in all likelihood murdered. But even on the small chance that they were not, I shall never see them again. Like you, I can never leave here."
"Dhaval," she breathed, "I had no idea…"
He held up a hand. "I did not tell you this so you could pity me," he warned.
Anne wiped her face. "Of course not," she told him, understanding perfectly. "Thank you."
"You are brave," he encouraged. It was the truth. Considering what he had been told about humans, he had expected this to occur much sooner, and to a greater degree.
She put her face into the cloth, trying not to sob. "I don't feel brave," she whispered.
"You are not a soldier, and no one here expects you to be," he said calmly, hoping she would regain her control soon. As soon as she did, he left her alone, not knowing what else to do. For some reason, making her cry made him feel like a louse.
That evening, the girls were in Ba'el's room getting ready. Ba'el had decided that she would also adopt Anne's custom. They giggled almost incessantly as they styled each other's hair, using flowers from a vine that grew along the wall of the compound.
"Oh, my, but you do look lovely, my dear," Anne said in her best imitation of Sir William Lucas from Pride and Prejudice. "Trying to capture all of the beaus' hearts, are you? Capital, capital!"
Ba'el laughed hysterically. "Why, Sir Lucas," she managed between giggles, "You're such a tease!"
In the other room, Gi'ral and Tokath exchanged quizzical looks. The Klingon woman rolled her eyes. "At least she's happy," her husband ventured. "Ba'el?" he called. "Are you ready yet?"
"Yes, father," she answered as she and Anne emerged from her bedroom.
Tokath smiled at his daughter, "You've grown into a beautiful young lady, Ba'el."
"Yes," said Gi'ral, "We are proud of you. And you look pretty, too, Anne."
"Thank you, ma'am," she said politely.
When they sat down to supper, Anne nudged Ba'el. "Hey, I recognize this dish from the cookbook," she smiled.
When she was finished eating, Ba'el took her turn. She had chosen an excerpt from her novel that told of when the farmer fell in love with his enemy's sister. For her first reading, she did exceptionally well. The listeners seemed to enjoy it, at least.
"I am beginning to like this new tradition we have started," said L'Kor. "It's good to see the young people taking an active part in this community again." It was an unspoken truth that the elders sorely missed their children who had left. A silence fell upon the room.
"So who will read tomorrow?" Anne said cheerfully.
Ba'el grinned wickedly. "Dhaval!" she exclaimed. The Romulan was in the process of drinking, and choked on the liquid when he heard his name. Anne snickered into her hand.
"I don't think—" he tried to say.
Tokath interrupted, "I think that's an excellent idea, Sub-lieutenant."
"Yes, Commander," Dhaval said, acknowledging the order without hesitation. For the rest of the evening, however, he said nothing, but quietly ate his food.
Anne carefully chopped the strange-looking vegetables that had been handed to her, paying close attention to the cook's instructions. Ever since she had browsed through that cookbook, she wanted to try her hand at it. Jadel, an elderly Klingon woman, was the resident chef. When Anne asked if she could help her, she was thrilled, muttering something about one less egg she would have to fry.
"When you finish that," she told her, "add it to the pot. I'll return soon."
The human squinted suspiciously as she watched the old woman leave. Why did she have the feeling that she was going to be left to finish all of this on her own? Glancing out of the window, she saw Ba'el wave to her on the way to the creek. She had offered to let Anne come with her, but her friend promptly declined. There was no way she intended to leave the compound after she had seen what was lurking out there! No, Ba'el could have fun with the creepy forest inhabitants by herself, thank you very much.
The kitchen turned out to be a popular place in the morning. Several guards came in, grabbed a quick snack, and left to go do whatever it was they did. They all complemented her on her recitation, and said that they looked forward to her next rendition soon. Every single one of them made a wisecrack about Dhaval's order. Apparently, the poor chap had been the victim of their teasing all morning.
As if on cue, Dhaval came in. The other guard smirked, and then left. "I see you're finally beginning to pull your own weight around here," he said. "Jadel is pleased, no doubt? She's always complaining."
"I think she means to drop it all on me," Anne said grimly.
"Watch out, or she might," Dhaval warned with a twinkle in his eye. It was difficult to tell when he was serious and when he was joking. He picked up a piece of fruit and took a bite, leaning casually against the wall.
"So what's on the menu tonight?" he asked.
"You mean besides you?" she joked as she added the ingredients to the pot.
Dhaval frowned. "That isn't funny. Everyone else is taunting me relentlessly. And now you, too, Anne?"
"Sorry," she said, only half-sincerely, "I couldn't resist. What are you going to read anyway?"
"Something…"
"Such as?" she prodded.
"Alright, I don't know what I should read," he confessed. "And, no, I'm not going to read anything from Klingon mythology. I hear enough of that every night on patrol as it is. If I have to hear about their god, Kahless, again, I'll—"
"Kahless isn't their god," she corrected, "They killed their gods, remember?"
"I don't care," he said, pouting. To his surprise, she actually laughed. "Well, I don't," he reiterated. "Anne," he said, leaving out the harshness in his voice this time, "will you give me a suggestion? Another sea shanty, perhaps?"
"Well…" she said after a deliberate pause, "I suppose it's the least I can do since you saved my life." Dhaval breathed a sigh of relief. It was then she remembered that she wanted to ask him about life on a Romulan ship. It seemed to be as good a time as any. "Dhaval?"
"Yes?"
"That line, 'You can bet your boots there'll be treachery;" why did you and the other Romulans think that was so funny? Is that what it's like on a Romulan ship?"
This time it was his turn chuckle. "No, Anne, no. We were laughing because it's exactly the opposite of our military. Though I'm sure every Romulan here can tell you that he or she has had a commander they wished they could kill at one time or another," he said seriously.
"Oh," she considered. "You don't think that about Tokath," she whispered, widening her eyes, "do you?"
"No," he replied with an amused smile. "Tokath is the most lenient commander I have ever had, in fact."
"Ok," she said suddenly, snapping her fingers, "I just thought of one. Do you have time to hear it?"
Dhaval pulled out a PADD, which he appeared to have brought for that very purpose. "Yes, and I'll write it down, too. That way, I'll have time to practice for the rest of the day." He looked up. "Thank you, Anne," he said amiably.
The girl grinned. "Pay attention now: 'Oh the year was 1778…'"
After the evening meal, Dhaval stood to read Anne's sea shanty. Around the room, people were nudging and grinning at each other. Everyone had been waiting for this all day.
His cheeks and ears were tinged with green as he read awkwardly. "Oh, the year was 1778. How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now. A letter of marque came from the king. From the scummiest vessel I'd ever seen. I was told, we'd cruise the seas for American gold," he continued monotonously. "…We'd fire no guns…shed no tears—"
"No, no, no," Anne interrupted. She articulately and theatrically read the stanza herself:
"I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears.
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier,
The last of Barrett's Privateers."
"Can you not feel his despair?" she asked him fervently. Everyone else in the room began snickering. Dhaval bit his lip and gave Anne a miffed look. "Try again," she encouraged, ignoring them all. At that, the others erupted into open laughter.
"Anne!" he growled through clenched teeth. "This is humiliating!"
"Ok," she held her hands up. "I won't say another word. By all means, continue."
Dhaval sighed loudly. She is going to pay for this! Both of them are going to pay for this… He continued reluctantly:
"O Elcid Barrett cried the town
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
For twenty brave men all fishermen who
Would make for him the Antelope's crew…"
An idea hatched in his brain while he read. He knew exactly how to get Anne back. He would have to think about it longer with regards to Ba'el. But Anne, being a typical human female, would be a piece of cake.
(Sadly, I don't own Stan Rogers' "Barrett's Privateers.")