AN: I apologize in advance that this is long-winded. I didn't call myself "rambling" Rose for no reason. This is the first stand-alone piece I've done for the Triad since around August. Admittedly, the reason for that is that I ran across some negativity about the triad and, in particular, about my fics. I would love to say that I'm some amazingly evolved person and that negativity doesn't bother me or affect my creativity, but that would be an outright lie. I am just a person, and my creativity took a serious hit, thanks to that and a few other things that just sort of compounded to make me really feel like I couldn't write what had once made me very happy. This has bled over into my enjoyment of writing for other ships, as well.
Suffice it to say, if you don't want to read this, then please don't. There is nothing secret here. I'm not lying to you. The story is tagged. This is a story about a triad. It's polyamory. All three characters will be treated with love and respect in my stories. I love all three characters involved, and I'm trying to find my way back to loving my own writing. Please allow me to do that, because it's not hurting any of you, who might not like it, by simply existing.
Also, please be aware that, though you are absolutely entitled to your opinion about the work of others, a kind thing to do may be to consider not airing your negativity about their work publicly. Maybe consider being negative and doing your complaining about people's work in private. It's just a moment of attention and complaining for you, quickly forgotten, maybe because you don't even really mean it and certainly don't really care about it, but it could really mean a lot to the person who is/was writing something. Allow people to have the happiness that they can find in life.
That being said, I desperately want to get back to writing the Triad stories and to enjoying them. I want that happiness to bleed back into my other writing. I want back the happiness that I felt at writing my stories before August.
I am being honest and transparent. I'm working on putting the negativity behind me and trying to ignore it, since I can't forget it. I'm doing my best, but I don't know how long it will take for me to feel good about my writing again.
In the meantime, if you enjoy the things I write (and, especially, the Triad), and you're feeling up to it, encouragement is appreciated. Sharing anything you feel happy and excited about is appreciated. Ideas for short little pieces that you would love for me to try are appreciated. I appreciate the support and motivation of those of you who want to share in the positivity and happiness with me, and I ask you to please do so!
I own nothing from Star Trek.
I hope you enjoy this little story. If you do, please do let me know. If you don't, please do go and have a blessed day where you enjoy something that brings you happiness, but please do be kind enough to leave me out of your displeasure. Thank you.
111
"I just don't understand it," Jean-Luc mused as they walked through the rows and rows of grapes, winding their way around to what most interested them at the moment.
Beverly might have pointed out that they were taking the proverbial long way around to get to the special vines, but she was enjoying the walk, the sunshine, and the fresh air, and there was no need to rush things.
Her fingers were somewhat lazily looped around the fingers of her wife, Laris, and Beverly had, admittedly, spent much of their wandering through the vineyard looking at Laris—noting the way the sunlight seemed to shine in her hair far beyond the way it ever did for anyone else, the way that she seemed blissful in the warm sunlight, and the way she looked so healthy and full of life.
Of course, Laris was, perhaps, particularly full of life at the moment. She was carrying their little one that would join them, if she kept with the predicted timeline of Romulan gestation, despite the fact that their little one was two-thirds human, in approximately six months. Laris, halfway through her pregnancy, was finally beginning to actually look pregnant, according to her, and Beverly found it adorable at times, and breathtaking at others.
At all times, she was happier than she had been in a long time.
Beverly focused, these days, only on the life directly in front of her and surrounding her. She tried her best to let the past be what it was—the past.
She was married in a Romulan trust bond to Jean-Luc—whom she had loved for most of her life—and to Laris—whom she had very quickly come to love with a profoundness that had surprised even her. None of them were perfect. They all brought plenty of baggage to their marriage. But, perhaps, that was one of the things that made their marriage as happy as it was. There was nobody present who was still living with the unrealistic expectation of absolute perfection from their partners. Absolute honesty, of course, was expected because of the nature of their bond—but perfection?
Life, they all understood at this point, was about finding beauty in the imperfection.
As an admiral who maintained her right to work at Starfleet Medical, Beverly had been part of the truly amazing and, for her, heartwarming work of combining the biological material of herself and her two partners to create the embryo that, now, Laris carried—the little one growing more each day.
They ran the vineyard together, with Laris doing most of the work at the Château. Beverly and Jean-Luc were both admirals and active in Starfleet, though both had worked to maintain the right to choose when and where they worked. Laris worked with the Romulan rebuilding projects, on behalf of the Federation, and took jobs for the Federation in new Romulan territories, when her work at the Château allowed.
Though Beverly hardly saw Wesley, she knew that he was well, and he was living the existence that he was meant to live. She found her comfort in that.
And Jack was in Starfleet, moving quickly through the ranks and happy in his work, despite his regular teasing about the nepotism that had surely benefitted him a great deal.
Their life wasn't perfect—but it was close enough.
After the events of her life, Beverly appreciated, immensely, the fact that she could enjoy the simple pleasure of fresh air and a peaceful walk with her husband and wife on a sunny day.
"Stop worrying about it, Jean-Luc," Beverly offered.
"I just don't understand it," he repeated. Beverly rolled her eyes when she noticed Laris looking at her. Laris stifled a laugh. "Several people have commented on the quality of the wine. Château Picard has always been a high quality wine. We have made sure of that…haven't we? Laris…you've made sure of that."
"I have personally vetted every batch," Laris said.
"Until this year," Beverly said, squeezing Laris's fingers. Laris smiled and blushed slightly green, the viridescent tinge travelling slowly over her cheeks and across the bridge of her nose. "I think we'll let our little one sit out the wine tasting this year."
Jean-Luc stopped walking for just a moment. The concern on his features practically melted and gave way to a smile. Very little could raise the spirits of everyone in the household quite like the smallest reminder of their expected little one.
Beverly and Jean-Luc had missed out on the entire experience together—from pregnancy to adulthood—with Jack. They had both decided, too, at this point, to stop explaining and blaming. They had what they had now, and that was the best that they could ever hope to have. They couldn't get back lost time. And it didn't make sense to waste the time that they did have rehashing the past.
Now, they were drinking deep and enjoying every single possible pleasure of this experience with Laris.
Beverly was so enamored of the child that it made her ache to even think about it, and she loved watching Jean-Luc explore each new aspect of being a father.
Jean-Luc reached a hand out and pressed his palm to Laris's little bump. She smiled at him and covered his hand. At first, she had been a lot less receptive to touch, probably owing to negative experiences in her life, but Beverly and Jean-Luc had been gentle and affectionate enough with her that Beverly was starting to notice that Laris seemed to crave it, putting herself in positions to receive it, even though neither of them would have ever drawn attention to it.
"Oh, no," Jean-Luc said, practically breathing the words out. "She won't be our taster this year. But, I've always found some aspect of the wine seemed to reflect life. This year will be one of our sweetest vintages, and that will only be partially owing to the grapes, I'm sure."
Beverly couldn't help but indulge—and there was nobody to tell her that she wasn't allowed to enjoy every aspect of her life to the highest degree—so she let all their fingers touch over the show of their little one.
"Is the baby awake?" Beverly asked.
"I don't think so," Laris said. "I haven't felt anything for a while."
"Of course not," Beverly said. "It's warm—you're probably warm out here in the sun. It's so relaxing…"
"The haedl is sleeping," Jean-Luc said, smiling at the thought of the little thing curled up and sleeping.
"Let's go and see these grapes," Beverly offered. "And then we all might go back to the house and take a nap with the haedl," Beverly offered.
They followed Jean-Luc the rest of the way around to the vines that were a rather new addition to the vineyard. Jean-Luc had had them specially cultivated. Their grape was one that no other vineyard would have.
"Here they are," he said. He smiled at the grapes. He hadn't always been one who wanted to take over the family business, but he had truly embraced it, now, as part of the life that they were all leading together. "I've been assured they are every bit as sweet as we hoped they would be."
"Not too sweet, I hope," Beverly said, reaching to pick a few of the grapes. "Too sweet is as bad as whatever other critique they've given."
"Bitter," Jean-Luc said. "They have accused several vintages of being bitter. Dry and sour, no less."
Beverly hummed.
She had come up with one reason or another, honestly, to avoid most of the wine. She hadn't tasted it for well over twenty years—the last time she'd had it was just before she'd conceived Jack, actually, when she and Jean-Luc had come to spend a weekend at the Château as part of their shore leave. She didn't recall the vintage she'd been served as being bitter, but there were many things she'd preferred to the wine with which she now shared a name.
Since then, she'd come up with a few creative ways to avoid drinking it—even going so far as to accept a glass, but never actually taste it.
That was going to have to come to an end, though. Their wife, who had been responsible for the final stamp of approval on so many batches of wine, especially when Jean-Luc couldn't be bothered or present to offer a final opinion, was busy doing very important work that would require her to shy away from drinking wine. Jean-Luc had asked Beverly to be the official taster in Laris's stead.
Beverly would do it for Laris and their precious little haedl, but she was secretly already dreading her new role—at least a little.
Jean-Luc and Laris both gathered some of the grapes from the vines, as well.
"The first taste of a new…a new branch of the future…a new vine of the future, rather, for Picard wines," Jean-Luc said, pontificating a touch more than was necessary over grapes, but Beverly and Laris were content to let him have it. "Cheers," he offered, raising the grapes in his hand in a mock toast.
"Cheers," Beverly echoed, mirroring him as Laris did the same.
She tasted the grapes and hoped that they would be far more delicious than she feared they would be. Though she didn't recall the wine as being terrible, the truth of the matter was that she'd heard so many poor opinions of the wine that she'd begun to believe it even over what her own senses had told her.
The flavor that burst onto her tongue from the grapes, however, was anything but bitter. It was sweet and delicious. She couldn't stop herself from moaning out the pleasant surprise she felt over the flavor.
"They're even more impressive than I imagined…or even hoped," Jean-Luc said.
"They're wonderful," Beverly agreed.
"Delicious," Laris said, reaching for a few more of the grapes and knowing, instinctively, that nobody would deny her, even if Jean-Luc might have given anyone else in the whole galaxy a speech about consuming the fruit that was necessary to yield a good harvest.
Watching the rapture on Laris's face as she closed her eyes and savored the grapes she popped into her mouth, a realization began to dawn in Beverly's mind and move, slowly, until it settled into her belly.
"You like the grapes, Laris?" Beverly asked.
"They're wonderful," she said.
"And—have you always liked the grapes?" Beverly asked.
Laris looked at her with a furrowed brow and shrugged her shoulders.
"Most of them?" She said. "Some haven't been to my liking, but they've fit the profile for what Jean-Luc wanted in each variety."
Beverly hummed and nodded.
"But the vintages that you share most often, Jean-Luc…are they among Laris's favorites?" Beverly asked.
Jean-Luc smiled very warmly at Laris.
"They come most highly recommended," he offered, winking at Laris.
"And you've grown accustomed to the taste," Beverly ventured.
It was his turn to look no less confused than Laris. Beverly laughed to herself. She clucked her tongue, shook her head, and reached for more of the sweet grapes. She was no more scolded than Laris. She might not be carrying their little one, but she enjoyed quite a few benefits of being Jean-Luc's wife and finally settling down with him after a lifetime of watching him fight his feelings and desires. Finally, he was free to love her as he'd always denied himself the right to do so before, and he was clearly trying to make up for lost time. Beverly, of course, wasn't one to complain about the absolute flood of love and affection she felt from both of her partners daily.
"Jean-Luc…what has Laris wanted most since she's been pregnant?" Beverly asked. "To eat…and drink?"
Jean-Luc looked at her, wide-eyed, and clearly showed at least a little panic. He had been accused, by both of them at different times, of not being very observant, especially when it came to little things in their marriage. It was obvious that he was afraid that he was about to fail some sort of test—and he would, if it were a test, because he'd already panicked.
"Our beautiful…wonderful…Romulan wife started adding sugar to her coffee," Beverly said. "She began adding honey to her bread. She has craved cakes, and ice cream, and sweet scones. She has wanted cookies and other pastries, and she practically eats squares of nice chocolate like medicine to keep her from losing her temper at either of us for things we may say or do."
Laris licked her lips, catching some stray juice, but she was obviously waiting for Beverly to finish. Jean-Luc, too, was still looking at her with a furrowed brow, though he had relaxed now that he wasn't feeling tested.
"The haedl prefers sweet things," Jean-Luc said.
Beverly hummed and nodded.
"The haedl prefers sweet things," Beverly said. "And for decades, now, your final taster for the wine has been a Romulan woman—my favorite Romulan woman," she added, just to make sure that Laris wouldn't mistake anything she said as a criticism.
"Yes…" Jean-Luc said, hesitantly.
Beverly smiled at him.
"Romulan palates typically run toward a preference for foods that are salty and bitter, Jean-Luc," Beverly offered with a shrug. She bit the inside of her mouth so as to not laugh at either of her partners. She popped a few more of the grapes into her mouth, and decided to simply let them digest their new realization without the need of over-discussing it. "These are delicious. I agree. It's probably going to be one of our sweetest vintages—from one of our sweetest years. Come on…let's go nap with the haedl, and then we can all make something for dinner together."