Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, especially Queen of Lazyness. I really appreciate all your feedback!
I didn't even have to wait a week to be invited to see Vulcan martial arts, as on the next Wednesday, Soval strode into our quarters right after lunch and went immediately to his room. He emerged a few moments later in something akin to what the security detail wore, but in a more coppery tone and softer fabrics. I thought he would be on his way again and turned back to my work, but then I felt his hand gently caress my shoulder.
"Genevieve, would you care to take a break from your studies and accompany me to a martial arts demonstration? The security detail has agreed to work with me to show you differing styles from every major region of Vulcan."
I put down my stylus and nodded eagerly, and quickly stood, ready to follow him out the door. "Of course, I would love to see that! Lead on, ambassador."
I didn't even need to hear his response before I corrected myself. "Sorry...lead on, Soval."
He looked at me for a moment, and his expression seemed like that of someone looking upon a piece in a museum. There was something clearly appraising in his gaze, and I wasn't sure what to make of it.
"We have moved beyond titles," he said softly, and reached out, grasping my shoulder with a surprisingly tender touch. "Thank you for correcting yourself, Genevieve."
"Yeah," I said, my volume just a soft as his. "Sorry, I just...I guess I'm still getting used to it, is all."
His gaze roamed around my face again, his eyes finally resting on my lips. I pressed them together, suddenly nervous, and he sighed, his thumb gently drawing circlets on my arm. "I hope one day...my name will come as naturally to you as breathing. We are friends, are we not?"
"We are," I agreed, offering an earnest smile, and I clapped him on the shoulder, rubbing my hand up and down his arm one time before I withdrew. I didn't want to push anything. "So, Soval...lead on."
He took longer than I thought he would to pull away, and as I fell in line beside him, we made our way to the turbolift, a nervous but still amiable silence between us.
The doors closed, and though the silence remained, a thought crossed my mind, and I turned to him with a curious gaze.
"What does your name mean?"
His gaze found mine, and he raised an eyebrow in acknowledgment of the question, or perhaps bewilderment. But then something around his eyes softened, and he bowed his head.
"Soval is derived from s'oveh ashal, meaning 'from the honored beloved one'."
"Oh," I said softly, a sigh escaping my lips as they curled into a smile. "Oh, that's so lovely...I never knew." I breathed in deeply. "Who picked the name?"
His eyes stared into nothingness over my shoulder, and blinked slowly. "My parents agreed upon it. I do not know which of them first suggested the name, but they were both agreeable to it." He looked at me again, his visage much more present now. "And you? What does your name mean?"
I swallowed thickly. "I don't know...all I know is that my dad named me. He had a great-aunt named Jean who had died not long before I was born."
The turbolift doors opened, and I followed him through the hallways to a set of double wooden doors inlaid with a glass window. I could see through the opening that there were at least seven or eight security guards warming up in the vast room, all of them stretching or practicing various forms. I swallowed thickly again and smiled at my companion as he opened the door for me and gestured me inside.
"Timok and Sorak will likely join us shortly," he murmured to me, leading me to a set of bleachers not five feet from the practice area. "You will excuse me as I go prepare myself. I do hope you find this demonstration informative, Genevieve."
"I have no doubt I will," I said confidently, getting comfortable in my seat. He nodded and gently touched my shoulder again, then strode over to his subordinates and began his warmup with them.
Unlike how I stretched before I went for runs, all of the security guards had a much more elegant approach. I watched as Soval joined them, and the ones not practicing their forms moved together as one, slowly extending their arms and practicing various lunges and thrusts, all at a very slow pace, like tai chi almost. With each stretch, they seemed to push their bodies a little further, slowly warming up their muscles with an ease and a grace that I doubted I could ever achieve.
Though there was no sign of Timok and Sorak just yet, Soval decided to let the first pair of guards demonstrate their forms, and he stood by me as the match began.
"Here you can see the Shi'Kahrian style of melee, which favors firm stances and deliberate strikes." The two guards sparring held their ground, stepping forward with strong footwork to strike at their opponent with heavy yet precise hits.
"What's the name of that weapon they're using?" I asked, glancing over what looked somewhat like a glaive, but instead of a slender saber at its end, a semicircle blade rested there instead, whilst the opposing end was weighted with a thick bludgeoning implement.
"That is a lirpa, the traditional weapon of Vulcan. We use them for ceremonial purposes, but they do have a modern application in areas where geomagnetic phenomena interfere with phase weapons."
The two men circled each other, perhaps examining each other for any weaknesses, and with a decisive step forward, the taller guard nearly landed a hit on the shorter one. The shorter guard dodged and parried with a heavy swing to the other man's midsection, and it landed with a dull thud. I winced, but the taller guard did not seem to react with more than a sharp exhalation of breath. The man's brown eyes found mine, and his eyebrow quirked upward before he engaged his fellow guard again, delivering a stunning blow to his dominant arm; the shorter guard nearly dropped his weapon.
"They move so quickly," I breathed, shaking my head in disbelief as the shorter guard retaliated with a strong arc of his weapon towards his opponent's shoulder. The taller guard stepped out of the way in a split instant and struck again at the shorter man's arm. This time it was successful, and the lirpa fell to the ground with a heavy clang.
The taller guard gently pressed the blade of his weapon to the shorter man's chest, then stepped back and bowed. The shorter guard repeated the gesture and picked up his weapon, retreating out of the middle so that the next pair could go.
"Indeed," my companion said softly, "our reflexes are more honed than yours, to be sure, but do keep in mind these are trained soldiers. They must be in peak condition to defend this Consulate."
"Makes sense," I said, and the next pair stepped into the center of the room. One of the guards had dark silver hair, and wore a finely pressed copper uniform with silver pips decorating the collar. I could tell from that and his stature that this Vulcan had some authority, and he strode into the middle of the fighting ring with his lirpa ready at his side, his broad shoulders rimrod straight as he sized up his opponent.
The man facing him was younger by far, one of the youngest men in the room, but he equaled the older Vulcan in terms of height.
"And now you will see the fighting style from Gol in the northern hemisphere of our planet. This technique favors speed and strength instead of measured strikes as out of Shi'Kahr. Observe."
And with a wave of his hand, the men sprang at each other, their weapons clashing loudly. The older man quickly used the blade of his lirpa to try and disarm his opponent, but the young man stood strong, digging his heels into the practice mat. They broke apart with a metallic shing and circled each other, their gray eyes narrowed in concentration.
"D'Kor puts up an admirable front, but Captain Vrenik outmatches him in speed and power, and sheer experience. He is simply toying with him at this point," Soval murmured in my ear. His breath was warm on my neck, and I dug my nails into my jeans; warmth spilled into my abdomen in reaction to his proximity, but I took a deep breath, trying to subdue the feedback making me feel like the room was far too hot.
Soval's prediction seemed fairly sound, as D'Kor seemed to be losing momentum as the fight dragged on. Vrenik circled him continuously, feinting with jabs and overhead strikes before switching at the last moment to strike elsewhere on the youth's body.
And with one last flourish, D'Kor's lirpa fell, giving Vrenik the final win.
The captain handed the youth his weapon, saying something to him in Vulcan, and D'Kor bowed his head, his gray eyes mournful as he looked back at me. I furrowed my brow, offering him a small smile and a thumbs up, and he nodded, quickly joining his fellows.
"I presume Timok and Sorak are occupied, but nevertheless, we will continue with our demonstration," the ambassador said, and I looked up at him with a smile. "You will see the fighting style of Ra'al depends primarily on speed, and seeks not just to disarm an opponent, but throw him off-balance and weaken his footing. Observe."
He took up his weapon and made to move out to the ring, but I grabbed his forearm and pulled him back.
"Be safe, okay?" I whispered, and his gaze softened.
"Of course, Genevieve, this is merely an exercise."
I nodded and let him go, watching nervously as he took his place across from his opponent, a middle-aged man who towered a full head over the ambassador. The man's biceps flexed as he adjusted himself, and Soval crouched slightly, seemingly bracing himself for the first blows of their spar.
With a flurry of motion, the two men locked lirpas, their expressions stony with focus. In a blink, they were separated, now circling each other, sizing the other's weaknesses and looking for any gap in their defenses.
The other man tilted his head with a smirk, looking at me over Soval's shoulder and muttering something under his breath to the ambassador, who retorted with a few jabs towards the man's knees. He stepped out of Soval's reach though, spinning effortlessly into retaliation of his own. A wide, sweeping strike nearly clocked Soval's right thigh, but a quick step kept my roommate from tumbling to the floor. Another strike, this time with the bladed end, flew towards Soval's chest, but the ambassador parried and drew himself up to his full height, seemingly unperturbed by the man's attacks.
They continued to circle each other, their steps more careful now, and I smiled encouragingly at my roommate as he finally turned to face me. He spared me but a glance and the slightest nod before turning his warm brown eyes on his opponent, who muttered something else to Soval, perhaps in some effort to taunt him.
Soval's eyes narrowed slightly, but beyond that he did not react. He held out his lirpa, his gaze flicking up and down the taller man's body until with a blur, he nearly thrust the blunt end of his weapon into the man's midsection. Inches from losing, the man barely eked out of the way before retorting with an attempted slice at Soval's arm, perhaps in an attempt to disarm him. But Soval was too quick, and with a flick of his wrist, he reversed the lirpa and sliced upward into his opponent's chest, sending the man reeling. He swung down with the blunt end again, stopping just above the man's neck before halting his momentum and simply delivering a warning tap as a sign of his victory.
I stared at him with a ridiculous grin as he returned to my side, and I had to shake my head in sheer incredulity. "When you said military, I wasn't expecting that," I hissed, crossing my arms across my chest. "Where the heck...how?"
He raised an eyebrow, the heavy weapon clanking slightly as he rested it on the floor. "All military personnel are trained in these fighting techniques as a basic measure. I went through what you would consider basic training in my youth, and I have not forgotten my lessons."
"No, you really haven't," I breathed, and I glanced over my shoulder at the gathered group of guards. "Thank you all for that demonstration," I said, addressing them with a bright smile. "You did a really fantastic job."
Captain Vrenik stepped forward, bowing his head with an obviously satisfied smirk. "Your admiration is a reward unto itself, T'Sai," he said, and I frowned, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable under his piercing gray eyes. "But with all due respect, we have more to show you, if you have the time to observe. You have seen our regional techniques, but you have not seen them tested against each other. So if you would...?"
He gestured back to my seat, clearly inviting me to sit back down, and I looked to Soval in time to see him nod in agreement. I took a seat once more, and Soval hovered at my side, watching his guards with a placid expression.
The tall guard who had won the first match stepped out into the ring, this time facing one of the men who hadn't fought yet. The new guard looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place his face at the moment.
"So now, T'Sai, please observe the strength and stamina of Shi'Kahr against the speed of Gol," Vrenik announced, and looked to Soval to give the signal. The ambassador nodded, and the man who hadn't fought yet sprung at his opponent, slicing down hard with the lirpa before the taller guard could find his footing. The man was not caught unawares, though, and stepped back out of reach of the weapon, spinning quickly to deflect another strike.
"Any thoughts on this match-up?" I asked my companion, not taking my eyes off the match in front of me.
"I would wager that Terik is the superior fighter, but T'Klaav can hold his own. Unlike when D'Kor faced the captain, there is no obvious winner here."
He was right; the two men seemed perfectly matched in skill as the fight dragged on. Terik's swings and heavy blows came at a breakneck pace, but T'Klaav stood strong, parrying every attempted strike against him. Finally, with an unexpected backswing, T'Klaav's feet were knocked out from under him, and Terik stood tall over the Shi'Kahrian guard, finally victorious.
Captain Vrenik helped T'Klaav to his feet, muttering something to him as he handed him his weapon, and the shorter guard from before seemed to almost smirk as the Shi'Kahrian joined his fellows. Terik was met with several nods and bows of the head, and the captain once more turned to us.
"It would seem that Gol won this fight. But Shi'Kahr is hardly through in demonstrating her power." He stepped towards us, his gray eyes gleaming. "Ambassador, you should fight again for Ra'al, and show the T'Sai more of your skills."
Soval raised an eyebrow at the captain, but he gripped his lirpa tighter, his expression hardening in what looked like determination. "If the T'Sai wishes it, I will continue fighting for Ra'al."
He looked to me expectantly, and I frowned. "That's all up to you, Soval. I'm fine with it either way."
"Then I will fight," he replied with a firm nod.
He stepped out into the ring once more, his head held high as he eyed his opponent. This guard had not fought yet, and towered over the ambassador by several inches.
"Shi'Kahr is represented this time by Luran, one of our most accomplished security officers," the captain informed me, stepping away so that the combatants could have space. Luran stepped forward, his broad chest and powerful gait making him an ample challenge for Soval.
The captain called for the match to begin, and Soval sprang into action, flying at the man with terrifying speed. Luran blocked his swing, though, reversing his lirpa before I could blink and narrowly missing the ambassador by an inch. The blow grazed past his head, and Soval used his momentum to spin around and try another blow from the side, perhaps aiming to wind Luran before the taller man could retaliate with strikes of his own.
Luran, however, was just as quick as Soval, easily meeting my roommate's blow with a sharp clang as blade met metallic handle. The sound of it rung in the air, and Luran circled the ambassador, his posture and expression telling me that he at least appeared to be unfazed by his opponent.
Soval stared the man down with a placidity in his eyes, never taking his eyes away from the guard. Luran muttered something, smirking slightly, and blocked the ambassador's next blow with a haughtily raised eyebrow. The ambassador stepped back, ready to parry, and managed to keep Luran's blade from slicing into his midsection by knocking the weapon away. The guard shook his head, saying something more to my roommate, and Soval grumbled something unintelligible in return.
The next blow from Luran finally struck true, and I gasped as the blunt end of the lirpa hit Soval square in the shoulder, a sickening whump confirming that the strike was true. Soval stumbled backward, a furrowed brow the only reaction I could see, and his posture became much more guarded as Luran circled him, looking for another opening.
"You are out of practice, ambassador," the guard said, his deep voice carrying through the quiet tension in the room. "Diplomacy truly is the best place for you."
"Your confidence in my diplomatic ability is inspiring, Luran," Soval replied, and directed a well-aimed blow towards his opponent's knees. Luran simply jumped backward, avoiding the blow by several inches. "And I am not as out of practice as you might think."
He feinted towards Luran's chest, but switched directions at the last moment, striking hard into the guard's knee. He stumbled sideways, and Soval took advantage of his unsteady footing to strike into his chest for real, knocking him onto his back.
The ambassador did not even have time to confirm his win before another security guard hurried into the room and spoke in low tones to the captain. Vrenik frowned and called out to his men in Vulcan, and everyone, Luran included, took their weapons and hurried out the door.
"Is something wrong?" I asked, following Soval to the rack where he put back the lirpa.
"Security is handling it now," he said, though his gaze strayed to the door. "There is no need to worry, Genevieve."
I sighed. "If you say so." He led me from the room, walking calmly towards the turbolifts. I looked him over, watching to see if his shoulder seemed to be in pain. "I said to be safe, not to hurt your shoulder again."
"Luran seemed to think I am out of practice, but I believe he is a far more formidable opponent than I gave him credit for. As for my shoulder, it is a simple bruise, nothing more."
"You're sure?" I asked, glancing at the sight of the blow once more. "I can take a look at it once we get back to our rooms."
To my surprise, he raised his eyebrows and nodded, tapping the button for the fifth floor. "If it will put your mind at ease, Genevieve, then you can certainly examine my shoulder."
My lips parted slightly in amazement. "Yeah, I'll make sure it's nothing serious."
He nodded again, confirming that he would comply, and I tried not to stare at him as the turbolift rose through the building. I sighed as it stopped on the third floor, and two Vulcans joined us in the lift just as I heard shouts down the hallway.
"Ti'amah!" a masculine voice cried, the tone clearly emotional. "Kah-if-farr, ong kah-if-fee!"
Soval frowned, and quickly turned to me. "You will excuse me a moment as I look into this matter. I will not be long, Genevieve."
"Soval, I-"
But the doors were already closed, and the turbolift resumed its course. I shook my head to myself, suddenly quite nervous. I had never heard anything like the shouts from the hallway in all my time in the Consulate; the culprit was clearly speaking Vulcan, and that in itself was frightening enough. My mind immediately drifted to what little I knew of V'tosh ka'tur, and I swallowed thickly. Hopefully there was ample security around to neutralize any threat to the Consulate staff.
Thankfully, I didn't have to wait but twenty minutes before Soval entered our shared quarters, his expression openly weary. I stood from my place on the couch, walking with purpose towards him, but I knew better than to question what had happened on the third floor.
"Let's take a look at your shoulder, okay?"
He bowed his head, seemingly too tired to do much else. With slumped posture, he sunk into a chair, unlatching his shirt and exposing the bare skin of his shoulder.
I stepped forward, carefully bracing myself on the back of the chair as I leaned forward to examine him. His flesh had turned a nasty mix of green and yellow, the bruise stretching from just under his collarbone to his armpit. I winced in sympathy, lightly grazing his skin with my fingertips, and I gently raised his arm, watching him carefully for any sign of pain.
Surprisingly, he moved his arm about with no resistance, and did not seem to be bothered by the exercise. I took this to mean that his injury wasn't nearly as severe as the last time I had tended to him, and I smiled in relief.
"I think it looks far worse than it actually is," I declared, gently caressing the top of his shoulder. "But I'll bet that stings something fierce. My first thought would be to put ice on it, but something tells me that's not going to help you much."
He shook his head. "No...ice would not help me in this regard. There is no need to concern yourself with this injury, Genevieve, it will simply heal in its own time."
I gently squeezed his arm. "There must be something I can do. I have a heating pad, if you think that might help at all."
He glanced up at me, then raised an eyebrow. "It is my understanding that heat will make any swelling worse." I nodded, ready to retreat, but his expression grew intent on me. "I think, with a few key points of pressure, you could aid me in relieving some of the pain."
I nodded eagerly, happy to help, and he adjusted himself in the chair, slipping his shirt fully off his body. "If you would," he murmured softly, pointing to a spot above his collarbone. I pressed in with my fingers, gentle at first, but harder once he moved his hand away. He sighed into the pressure, leaning his head back, and without really thinking too much about it, I moved so that his head would rest against my midsection.
"Thank you, Genevieve," he whispered, then pointed to another spot further down his chest. I moved my fingers, keeping the pressure firm.
"You're an incredible fighter," I said, keeping my voice low. "I never imagined your military training would yield results like that."
"Hm." He leaned his head away and pointed to the junction of his neck and shoulder. "I am pleased you found the fight entertaining as well as educational. And I am pleased that you were so impressed with my skills. It is good that I have not forgotten said training."
"No, you haven't, no matter what Luran says. I thought you were amazing."
He simply quirked an eyebrow and opened his eyes a sliver, staring up at me with dark irises. We continued in silence for a while, and I tried hard not to blush under his scrutiny. Finally, he pointed to the outside of his shoulder, presumably the last pressure point I had to meet.
"You mentioned you own a heating pad," he said softly, his brow furrowing. "May I ask...do you experience muscle pain often? Or does it serve some other purpose?"
"It's for cramps," I said quietly. "They're not too bad most of the time, but every once and a while, it's really bad. So I have it just in case."
"You realize neuropressure can also relieve that sort of pain, do you not?"
I blinked, stroking my hands over his shoulders once I released the final pressure point. "Um, no, I didn't really think about that."
"If you experience pain, do let me know. I can relieve it for you."
I nodded, though I didn't really think I would be seeking neuropressure for menstrual cramps any time soon. Not only did I not want to inflict my stench on him during that time, I wasn't sure if having him touch my stomach was a great idea. I didn't need to embarrass myself with unwanted arousal, and I'm sure he didn't want to be the cause of it.
"I'll keep that in mind, ambassador...Soval. I'll get it right one of these days, sheesh..."
He shook his head up at me, smirking slightly. "I am pleased you corrected yourself. Perhaps you should practice saying my name more often, so that you get in the habit of referring to me correctly."
I shrugged. "Probably wouldn't hurt, Soval." He nodded in approval. "How's the shoulder now? Still hurting?"
"No, you have relieved much of the pain I felt. Thank you." He stood and shrugged his shirt back on, fiddling with the clasps. I watched the work of his hands, absorbed in the way his clever fingers closed his tunic.
"Anytime," I murmured, almost absentmindedly, and felt my face flush as he caught me staring. I crossed my arms over my chest and smiled to cover for my embarrassment, but he didn't say anything as he fastened the final clasp and straightened the front of his shirt.
"I spoke to Captain Vrenik about altering the gravity simulator for you. When would you like to begin training?"
"Oh, right!" I said in surprise. "Well...as soon as possible, I guess. I didn't have a particular timeline in mind, but I'm free to start whenever."
"I will have him put in the schedule for the end of the week," he replied with a nod, and I made a mental note of it.
"Should I bring anything to train with, or..?"
"I believe you should go easy to start off. Simply walking in a higher gravity should be more than adequate exercise. But once you are acclimated, we have several different options for training, and no doubt the captain will have better recommendations than I. He has trained men to fight for over seventy years, so I have every confidence in his ability to find a suitable regimen for you."
"Awesome, thank you!" I gently clasped his uninjured shoulder and lightly squeezed. "I appreciate you setting all this up for me."
"It is no trouble at all, Genevieve. I am pleased you are taking steps towards one day visiting my homeworld. It would be gratifying to take you there."
I couldn't help but smile, and he glanced at my hand still on his shoulder, then raised an eyebrow at me, his lips curling into a smirk. I ripped my hand away, but he reached out and gently grasped my shoulder in return.
"We have your physical stimulation in hand, but would you care to have mental stimulation tonight? We have not played a round of kal-toh since I was in the infirmary."
"Sure!" I said as my smile widened, and I tried my hardest to keep my breathing in check as his fingers trailed down my arm as he pulled away.
"Then, Genevieve, allow me to make dinner, and then we will play."
He retreated to the kitchen, and I glanced over at him as he began preparing his ingredients for whatever masterpiece he had in mind for dinner. I spied a slight smirk still playing across his lips, and I closed my eyes briefly, taking a deep breath before returning to my work.