First Rain
Author: Elizabeth Leicester
Code: Sarek, Amanda, Spock
Series: TOS
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Star Trek et al is owned by
Summary: Amanda and Spock prepare for the Vulcan
holiday of First Rain while they wait for Sarek to return home from his
diplomatic assignment.
Notes: 'First Rain' is a sequel of sorts to
'Beginnings.' I have tried to include
enough information so that you don't have to have read that story first to
understand this one.
Caz had
sort of suggested that someone should write a story for Thanksgiving. I had two ideas, this is one of them.
The suns were low in the sky
as Amanda put on the sand cloak, her 'burka' she
called it. It enveloped her small frame
and kept the stinging sand from blistering her skin. Here in the mountains, however, where the
sand was not as prevalent, it kept out the cold and the wind. She took the smaller cloak from its hook on
the slate wall and went to her little son who was dutifully pulling the large
gathering basket, both hands grasping the handle, dragging it along the stone
floor because he could not pick it up.
It was almost bigger than he was.
Amanda smiled quietly and
took it from him, putting it aside long enough to wrap him up in preparation
for the late afternoon task. Swathed in
the warm alpaca cloak, he never failed to remind her of an elf. Satisfied with the results, she stood and picked
up the basket. 'Come pi'shayu,' she called. She did not look back. She knew he would be following her out the
door, his little legs moving quickly in order to keep up with her.
Mother and son walked down
the path from their adobe, past the last of the servants' housing, through the
open gate of the vast stone wall that ringed the mountain domicile of her
husband's tveshu,
his family of origin.
It had been four years. Four years since Sarek's last pon farr and her own unexpected
conception. Four years since her
stubborn insistence on keeping that child had blown their lives apart. They were still doing penance for going
against the established order, for living against the precepts of Surak. But Surak had never actually said anything against
this, never said anything about a male choosing his own mate or living with his
tveshu
instead of with his wife's family. Surak
had only insisted a man be bonded in order to prevent the unchecked violence
that invariably accompanied the Fires.
The wife of a bonded man would feel his thoughts and sense the coming of
the Time and he would be drawn to her.
At least this was how it was written.
Of course the tradition of a man living with his wife's family predated
Surak. Everyone knew this. Their sin, hers and Sarek's, was of going
against this tradition, of marrying outside the 'natural order' of things. Violating Surak was just an excuse, an
official justification.
Amanda continued along the
footpath, with Spock in her wake, past the cultivated gardens and out to the
rugged, brushy country. Palla trees and
pad cactus studded the hills and crags.
Amanda set the basket down and began removing various items and tools: a
small basket for Spock, diggers, a hand laser and, most essential, a pair of
thick gloves. She gave the small basket
to Spock with the directive to go and gather palla beans. While he did this, she donned the gloves and
began to harvest cactus pears from a pad plant that had been particularly
fruitful.
The summer was at an
end. Soon, the entire House of T'Pau,
women, men, children and servants would pack up and move down into the valley
to the winter enclave on the Sas-a-shar plains.
And Sarek would come home, at least for a month.
This was not the life she had
envisioned for herself. No, she thought, as she placed the pears and some of
the more succulent cactus pads in the basket, this was not what she had had in
mind when she had agreed to be a part of Sarek's 'harem.' She had just wanted to study Vulcan culture
and history. She had certainly gotten
more than she had bargained for.
Amanda looked up to see Spock
coming towards her, his basket brimming with palla beans.
'Are we going to eat this Mehmi?' he asked.
'Indeed,' she replied. 'These are for First Rain,' she
explained. 'We will fill this basket up
and take it in to Vanek. He will be quite pleased and he will make
traditional dishes for the celebration.'
The little boy thought for a
moment. 'We talked about that in class,'
he told his mother seriously. 'We are
learning songs and dances for it.'
Amanda could not help but
smile. Last year, he had been too young
to participate. How he had grown! 'I can't wait to see what your class does,'
she said.
'Will Assa be home?' he asked,
referring to his father.
'I hope so,' Amanda
admitted. 'Remember when we talked to
him last?' The boy nodded in
response. 'He said that he was applying
for leave.' She sighed quietly, thinking
about that last conversation. She missed
him so much, but his absence was part of the price they had paid. She shook off the thoughts and took in the
results of their labours. The basket was almost full. Putting the beans and the tools on top, she
hefted it on to her hip.
'Let's take this in,' she
said to Spock. 'It will be time for end
meal soon.'
As they walked together down
the sloping path that led back to the domicile, Amanda took in all that was her
son: the dark head, the long eyelashes,
the elegant ears, the little form wrapped in russet, the tiny feet encased in
desert boots. Oh, he would break hearts
someday! She could still remember the
day he was born. The healer laid him on
her stomach and two dark obsidian eyes peered at her, knew her. And she knew then,
as she still knew now, that everything she and Sarek had endured and would
endure was worth it if it meant the existence of this exquisite, marvelous
creature that was her son.
~~**~~
First Rain was an ancient
holiday, one that had been celebrated for millennia. The name conveyed the meaning precisely. It was a celebration of the end of the
blistering summer and the beginning of the rainy season. It commemorated the blessed, healing rains
which promised the end of desolation and famine and the beginning of new life
and prosperity.
Modern Golic
civilisation was not completely at the mercy of the
environment as it had been in the past.
Ancient Vulcans, moving from plain to mountain with the seasons, much as
they still did today, knew the importance of those first rains, knew their
lives depended on them. And underlying
the celebrations, as it did with many commemorations throughout the galaxy, was
fear. What if the rains did not come,
the sun not return, the winds not blow? whatever was essential to the existence
of the people and culture expressing their utter gratitude for the inevitable.
There would be feasting and
singing and dancing. The children would
perform plays, recite poems and stories; the men would gather around the hearths
in the kitchens and the women in the large communal hall. Everyone would eat too much and drink too
much and work it off a few weeks later during Atonement.
But out of all this, the most
important thing about First Rain for Amanda was that Sarek would return. Because of her, he had lost his position in
the diplomatic corps and had virtually had to start over as an aide to one of
the senior diplomats on Tellar. For the
past three years, they had barely seen one another. He came home twice a year, for First Rain and
the Remembrance Days and while his stays lasted at least a month, it never
seemed long enough to either of them.
Someday perhaps, the gods, or at least the Clan Convergence, would
forgive them and they would no longer be separated. It was Sarek's belief that would occur after
his next Time. They would have to endure
the ordeal on their own, with little help from anyone save an attendant or two. After that, surely the Convergence would
relent and ask the High Council for reprieve.
But that was at least three years away, three more years of separation,
of living one step above servant in the tveshu, of enduring raised eyebrows and condescending looks.
It wasn't so bad, Amanda
decided. They had both known what they
were facing when they had married. But
Spock had had no say in this. He was
just a child and one that was beginning to notice that their status in the House
of T'Pau was not as it should be. When
they moved to the winter enclave, he would no longer have class with his aunts
and uncles and cousins but with the unrelated children of servants and support
staff. So far, she had been able to
deflect his questioning, divert his curiosity, but once winter school began,
she would have to tell him the truth.
She had considered teaching him in the small apartments that would be
allotted to them but that would only serve to further isolate him and affirm
the point that everyone was always trying to make: Spock was not truly Vulcan. Amanda already knew, had known from the
moment she was aware of his existence, that Spock would never be accepted on
his homeworld. He would always have to
prove himself. She hoped that someday,
he would truly find a home. Until that
time, she would provide it as best she could, but she would not shield him from
his fate. Instead she would support him
and try to give him strength for what lay ahead.
~~**~~
The day which was designated
as First Rain dawned, gray and misty. It
wasn't always so. Sometimes the suns
blazed as if they would never relent, never give in to the gentle, life-giving
rains. In ancient times, the holiday
would not be celebrated until rain actually fell. But over the centuries, as civilisation progressed and people became more logical and
less superstitious, First Rain became tied to the fall equinox and the start of
the new year. The day would be
especially significant since the rains had actually begun.
Amanda lay in bed, listening
to the rain that was too soft to hear, savouring this
time of quiet before the day's events began.
She turned, snuggling up next to her sleeping husband.
He had returned home late
last night. She had heard the shuttle
flying over the tveshu,
had heard it as it landed out at the shuttleport, had listened at the sounds of
a flitter coming into the domicile, at soft footsteps walking down the path, at
the sound of their door opening.
And now, he was here. She reached out and put a hand in his hair,
feeling its softness, caressing his head, resting in his essence. It was absolutely illogical to love him and
even more so to have married him. But
she found that she couldn't help herself.
Somewhere in the middle of the trial that had been her pregnancy, in the
middle of monitors and confinement among people who merely tolerated her, she
had fallen in love with him. She had
never understood why exactly. She
certainly hadn't planned it. But in all
the chaos, he always seemed to be there, even when he wasn't.
He would never admit that he
returned her feelings and yet she knew he did.
It was there in his care, in his touch, in his longing. Even more than these, it was in his willingness
to give up everything for her. He hadn't
had to marry her. His parents, the
Family, the Matriarch herself, had all counseled strongly against it. He was threatened with censure and loss of
career and still he cast his lot with a komihn,
ready to pay the price.
They would never be able to
comprehend his reasoning. But she
knew. She had felt it, understood it the
very first time their bond was forged.
With her, he had found what he had been seeking for decades, what his
empty soul had hungered for. He would
not call it love, but that's exactly what it was.
She could feel him stirring
now, awakening to consciousness. She
smiled as he turned towards her, opening his eyes.
'Abundant rain,' she said
quietly, reciting the traditional First Rain greeting.
'Abundant rain,' he returned. Gently he reached out and stroked the side of
her face with two fingers.
Amanda closed her eyes,
breathing him in as his presence flooded her mind. Of course she could always feel him, as
though he were in the next room or down the hall. But now that he was physically here, the experience
was intensified. And when he touched
her, moved in with his mind the way he was doing now, it was close to being
overwhelming. Yet she met him eagerly,
hungrily, almost devouring him. The
force of her desire always surprised and overpowered him. Stereotypically, Vulcans were the strong
ones. Terrans were supposedly weak. But not his wife, not when she had been
deprived of his mind and body for months.
There was desperation in this
union, in her. He tried to calm her,
tried to envelope her in his soul. She
clung to him and he could feel grief, like the showers of the first rains,
washing over him.
//It has been difficult for you my wife,// he thought. His words took shape over and under and
through their mental embrace.
//No more than usual,// she admitted.
//But time doesn't make our
separations any easier.//
//Illogical,// came the pronouncement.
Laughter rained through them,
scattering like drops on a windy day.
Somewhat taken aback, he
reminded her,// We are bonded,
Amanda. We are never separate.//
The wind shower quieted. //I
know,// she acknowledged. //And it should be enough for me. But it isn't.//
Again, he could feel her
sadness, a steady ever present rain.
//I don't think I can do this for three more years.// It was a truth that was hard to expose and he
could feel her anguish at the admission.
//You will not have to,// he told her, holding out the thought like a
wrapped gift.
The statement startled her
emotional state but he could still feel her grief dripping from the eaves of
her mind.
She looked at his secret, at
this truth still hidden from her.
//What is this?// she asked.
And suddenly the gift he had
been holding back was revealed. Their
union deepened into joy as she realised the
truth: their willingness to quietly bear
the burdens they had been given had paid off.
After the holiday break, he would be reassigned as ambassador to Setlik Prime. And he
could take his family with him.
Light sang through them,
bright and joyous. Sarek marveled at
this ability she had to be sad one moment and rapturous the next. It was always a new world and he found that
instead of repulsing him, it made her all that more attractive.
She was quiet now, slowly
calming, breathing steadily, coming into her own self, but the taste and feel
of him remained and would remain with her for the rest of the day. She opened her eyes and smiled into his dark
ones.
'We'd better get moving
before they change their minds,' she joked, kissing him on the forehead as she
threw back the covers.
She laughed at his
expression. Amazement and confusion,
along with love, mingled on his face, giving him that look that humans often
interpreted as one of condescension. But
she knew better.
She rose from the bed and
went in the other room to check on Spock.
It would be a busy day, the day of First Rain.
The rains brought many
things: the return of life, the
gathering of Family. This time, they had
also brought something for Amanda. They
had brought her husband and the promise of hope.
Finis