Juliette emerged from her room clean, scrubbed, and wearing the robe she had found in storage. Danek briefly looked Juliette over and tilted his head to the side.
"I have seen similar hair styles in ShiKahr. It...suits you, and I do not think Master Surot will mind."
Juliette brushed her fingers along the side of her head, pleased with even a watery compliment. "Thank you."
"It will, however, add to the discussion that you do not accept our ways."
Juliette forced herself not to scowl. "Where in the teachings of Surak does it say how one wears their hair?"
Danek held up his hands. "I am not arguing. It is the logical conclusion to their line of thought."
"Let them come to whatever conclusion they want, logical or not. They cannot talk to me less, or avoid me more."
"No, they cannot shun you more."
Juliette narrowed her eyes at Danek. "They would shun you?"
"People come to live in the Sas-a-shar to live simply, closer to how Sarek lived, to achieve Kolinahr the same way he did. When we came home, the courtyard was not full of sand because while my parents were at the monastery so your parents could contact you, T'Lor and her family helped maintain the screen. The families that live in the Sas-a-shar only have each other for support."
"And they would stop supporting you because my hair is different?"
"I don't know. They already regard us as outsiders. Father does not walk the pilgrimage across the Plain of Blood as often as the others, and Mother doesn't-" He stopped. Juliette's ears rang from the pressure of his anxiety and - anger?
"Father is home," Danek said and left without another word to his room. Several seconds later, she heard the air car. She stood helpless as the door opened.
"What are you doing home?" Lorot asked first Juliette, then looked to Danek, who came from his room his face locked in statuesque calm.
"We were gathering zattre, and wanted to check on the house," Lorot said. "Where is Mother?"
Lorot looked between them. "Your mother is in ShiKahr. Something about a jabbering crate for Juliette, and it was either leave or destroy it. It is fortunate you arrived to turn it off. Zattre, you say?"
They both nodded as he looked between them.
"When did you arrive here?"
"Three hours and twenty-two minutes ago."
"And you have been-"
"Assembling Juliette's presents, father." Danek said quickly.
"May I see?"
"Of course!" Juliette said, excited to show off her presents, though a little nervous. Box might start singing again. Luckily, it did not and even the ESH as polite, even if it kept staring at Lorot's hair.
"Fascinating projection array," Lorot said as Juliette scowled at the ESH from where Lorot couldn't see. "Hardened to resist the disturbances of the Sas-a-shar. Quite a feat of engineering. Quadruple buffered?"
"Six buffers. Strip pattern synchronized." The ESH said with some pride.
"So you returned, cleaned up, opened and assembled your presents-" Lorot knelt and picked up a small bit of brush from the floor. He arched his brow.
"I'm very sorry about that," Juliette said. "I was using it to push the emitter in place when it fell."
The Box nodded and gave Juliette a big wink. She wanted to die.
"I shall pick up another in ShiKahr tomorrow," Lorot said. But for now, we should have dinner, and then I will take you back to the monastery.
The plomeek was hot instead of lukewarm, and redroot was crisp instead of a little mushy, and held a surprisingly tart flavor. Most importantly, there were others at Juliette's table. Even in silence, she found comfort in their simple proximity.
Lorot looked up as Juliette was staring, "Your parents sent you a way to cut your hair. Is the monastery cutter broken? Danek's hair didn't seem overly long."
Juliette felt her face go cold. The redroot nearly fell off her fork. "What? No, does it look bad?"
Lorot tilted his head. "It is not. It reminds me of ka."
"Of what?"
"The letter ka, It has a swoop, like so," He pulled up his sleeve and moved his arm and wrist holding his serving spoon as a brush, giving a small flick at the end, "and ends with a rounded end. The novice will make the end perfectly round, but the masters know to make the back half fuller than the front."
"That's right, you did the banners at the monastery," Juliette said, trying to ignore the small splatter of plomeek on the table from Lorot's flourish.
"Some of them. The Sas-a-shar Monastery has had many great calligraphers. I am pleased my work sits among them. I also did the scrollwork in the garden here, and the lettering on the spice rack."
Juliette nodded, embarrassed for not noticing when she had first gone through the house. She resolved to seek them out. "Do you think my hair will be considered improper?"
Lorot arched a brow. "Who would think so? It seems sensible and efficient."
"But it's different from everyone else's'"
"Are they obligated to get the same style?"
Juliette shook her head.
Lorot shrugged. "Then, Juliette Sri, I fail to see your logic."
Danek said, "Forgive me father, but you cannot be unaware of the dissent."
Lorot took a long drink before responding. "Dissent?"
Danek sat back from his plate. "I suspect my father is being deliberately vague."
Juliette wished she could kick Danek under the table. Didn't he see how Lorot was maneuvering the conversation? It was like he'd never had parents! Juliette could only helplessly watch the trap close around Danek as Lorot tilted his head and sip his drink.
"My son would be in error. I have indeed heard perspectives on certain events. In the relating of those events, the word 'dissent' was not used. I do not even know if you speak of the same events. So tell me as if no one has told me anything." He steepled his fingers and sat back.
Juliette sipped at her plomeek while Danek remained quiet. Now he had to explain himself without knowing what other people had said. Juliette made note: Papa wasn't the only one who was more clever than he let on. Now the two Vulcans sat quietly, a contest of wills. But Danek had started the topic; his capitulation was only a matter of time.
"The other initiates feel that we are somehow responsible for Juliette,"
"She is our guest. What are we to responsible for? Her presence here? That is a product of her condition and a glacially slow Science Academy. The alternative is anathema to what we stand for. Perhaps I should speak to Master Surot about what is being taught for logic these days."
"They are wor-they are concerned they could get hurt by accident," Juliette said, unable to let Danek answer alone.
"Like T'Mar was injured when she touched you," Lorot said and looked at Juliette.
Yes, he knew far more than he was letting on. Juliette could only nod, her mouth dry.
Lorot seemed to ponder this. "Regrettable, but it seems there was no permanent injury to T'Mar-"
"And Danek," Juliette added. Danek buried his gaze into his plate.
"And Danek? I had only been told that T'Mar-ah."
Juliette was pleased to surprise Lorot, if only briefly. "Why was Danek also affected and-" she stopped as embarrassment from both Vulcans clouded the mood.
"That is a question best answered by P'nem, and only distracts from the matter at hand. Danek, I believe there is some Tolik ice left. Danel, why don't you get us some?"
Juliette felt a small sliver of relief from Danek as he stood and left the room.
"T'Mar's parents have expressed their concern to me," Lorot said, stacking the plates in a neat pile on the table. "A parent's concern for their child creates lines of many times unfathomable logic. "
"What am I to do?"
"What do you want to do?"
"I don't want them to be scared of me."
"Then you must find ways to allay their fears," Lorot said and after some thought added, "Perhaps, you could wear gloves."
Juliette's mind raced as she considered the possibilities. The only gloves at the monastery were heavy work gloves - certainly thick enough, and long enough. They'd certainly be noticed. What was it that Matron would call it. A gesture.
"I'll do it," Juliette said, setting her cup down with a decisive thunk, as matron would, just as Danek returned with three small bowls. "It is the least I can do, as my being here hurts your position further."
Lorot arched a brow. "Further?"
Juliette froze.
"I have forgotten the spoons," Danek said and whirled back toward the kitchen.
"You have not, my son. They are in your hand."
"I do not think I have had Tolik ice before, how is it made?" Juliette asked.
"You had it the first night you were here, Juliette Sri, though your attempt to change the topic is fascinating. I had thought that Betazoids valued honesty," Lorot said in an even tone.
"No, father, it truly is nothing," Danek said.
"My son's evasiveness makes this all the more interesting. I'll wait." Lorot sat back, his fingertips drumming his long fingers against the tabletop after taking a spoonful of ice.
Juliette sighed and clasped her hands on the table. "It has been said that my inability to follow Vulcan ways is encouraged by my hosts."
"It has been said," Lorot repeated as if tasting the words along with the ice. "Clearly, it did not say itself."
"I hold you in no way responsible," Juliette said, wishing the topic would melt away.
"Nor should you," Lorot said. "My son, Juliette, my wife comes from a situation where convention is very tightly adhered to, and the social implications of not following convention were dire."
"Where was-"
Lorot held up his spoon as if preparing to draw a character in the air. "Do not distract my point. When P'nem, not yet my wife, but bound to me, left that situation, she had precious little use for convention. I, as her bound and betrothed, had no interest in having her adhere to any convention that did not suit her."
"Father," Danek said, "if we are not bound by the conventions of our neighbors, there seems little reason for us to live in a primitive desert."
Juliette offered to clean the bowls if only to get away from the awful silence that filled the room. She took a deep breath to shake off the sudden, if carefully restrained, emotion. Then another, and another. On her third breath, she spied the spice rack Lorot had mentioned on a small shelf along the wall. The rack held a row of six clay pots, each crowned with the bloom of a different spice. The brick red pots were banded in brown, with the lettering gilt in a metallic orange. She turned each pot to follow the graceful letters - each word was only the name of each spice the pot contained, but written with a beauty that rivaled the illumination on the artifacts of Rixx.
On her return, Danek and Lorot had left the dining area. The door to Danek's room was closed. Lorot was in the garden, raking the sands. Juliette crept into the garden and watched as he shaped designs into the sands made dusky in the waning light of the day.
Lorot said, "I had researched Betazoid calligraphy, I was surprised to find it had a thriving community."
"I had no idea, but I remember seeing some in museums."
"On Vulcan, it is a dying art. Much of what you would see in ShiKahr are replications of ancient originals."
"But the monastery still teaches calligraphy."
"Those classes are attended by fewer students each year. Back when I attended the monastery, there were almost a thousand novices. But each year, more attended modern academies in ShiKahr rather than a dusty monastery in the middle of the Sas-a-shar desert. Now, most that remain are those that feel that the way of Kolinahr is across the Plain of Blood, in the footsteps of Surak." Lorot raked across the sand and smoothed to to begin a new set of characters. "In time, the last fortress of the Sas-a-shar will be as empty of novices as it is empty of soldiers. Then, it will be simply another ruin in a mountain."
"I saw the spice rack in the kitchen. Its really beautiful. Does it take long to learn how to do that?"
"Calligraphy takes a lifetime to master, but one can achieve satisfying results fairly quickly. I could show you, if you like."
"Please?"
Juliette found another rake and Lorot showed her ka, igen, and haret. The motions felt alien to her, but she followed as best she could.
"See, you have made passable letters. Well done." Lorot said.
Juliette sighed. Her letters might have been recognizable, while Lorot's script seem to be part of the natural flow of the desert, winding and twisting within the sands until the mind registers the letter.
"It takes time," Lorot said, "Calligraphy is actually a form of meditation, and helps center the mind, and provides something for others to contemplate. The appreciation of beauty is perhaps one of the most universal of traits across the galaxy, even if what is considered beautiful changes from species to species. Perhaps, you can find some kind of art to share with your fellow novices at the monastery - something they can contemplate, and better understand Betazed."
"Maybe. Maybe I could show them a holo of The Prisoner of Mazatan. It a passion opera, and they might enjoy the story."
"What is it about?"
Juliette paused, her breathing shallow as she swallowed. "It's about a child of a powerful House who is convinced to go far away from her home only to find out she is kidnapped."
Lorot stopped mid-letter, then resumed. "Is that so? But why do the kidnappers kidnap the child?"
The line Juliette sketched in the sand was shaky and indistinct. "That's part of the mystery. On Betazed in ancient times, it was not uncommon for a house to have the children of other houses as hostages. They were treated well, but they were hostages nonetheless."
Lorot resumed his script, "How unusual. Toward what end?"
"Sometimes the kidnappers demanded tribute. Sometimes it was to make sure they would not be invaded."
"And did these alleged kidnappers in this opera of yours make demands?"
"Not yet," Juliette replied in a high whisper.
Lorot's hands were tight against the rake as he brushed away the letters in the sand. He paused, and studied Juliette who stared back and waited for her heart to start beating again. His expression held neither malice nor anger, but his jaw was set. Finally he set the rake aside. "I am not sure they would be interested in such a fantasy, and you should be getting back to the monastery."