New:
Lost in Translation Series: "The First Birthday"
By: T'Ashalik
Rating: G
Summary: Sarek and Amanda consider the gift of their son.
Disclaimer: Not mine… no money... very sad day.
A/N: Thank you to Selek!
2231
Sarek decided to acquiesce to Amanda's insistence that they honor
today: Spock was one year old. She had decided they would acknowledge the
wonder that was wreaking havoc through their household on two little chubby
legs. Conceiving and delivering the child had been so hard on her physically,
nearly costing her own life in exchange for his. His mere physical survival to
this age was already far beyond everyone's expectations.
"He is a marvelous child, Sarek… look at
him," Amanda exclaimed with pride. Spock looked at her with his deep brown
eyes set behind what had to be the longest eyelashes known to man.
"Amanda, his growth and development are within normal parameters—" He
was cut off by her shocked look.
"He is far more than within normal parameters… it's not like he is an
android, for heaven's sake," she retorted with only semi-serious
indignation. "He is beautiful. Look at those eyes, Sarek." Deep Brown
looked back at Sarek adoringly. Although he would not admit his pride openly,
he was quite taken with his little son.
Spock was now sitting flat on his rump examining a small puzzle. A tiny slanted
eyebrow arched up into his bangs as he evaluated the pieces in his hands. When
placing one in the correct spot resulted in the playing of a gentle melody, the
other eyebrow joined the first and Spock laughed out loud, completing the
puzzle with ease.
"Hagik kal-toh, Chaya…" he mumbled to I-Chaya.
Amanda
laughed in her mind at his dismissal of the `easy puzzle'. She thought it
wonderful that he was already advancing through games for older infants.
Sarek turned his attention to his young wife. She was completely focused upon
their son. Another part of his mind considered the changes in his life in
recent years: their meeting, developing friendship, his realizing he was
undeniably fixated on her. He remembered their first date together, learning to
kiss, their first union, and the many more that followed after.
His attention was drawn back to the present when Spock pulled himself up by
Sarek's pant leg, stood, and patted his knee. He offered the completed puzzle
to his father for evaluation, watching very carefully for his reaction.
Sarek made a mild display of examining the boy's handiwork, and then
responded. "Marom-ar'kadan, sa-fu,"
Sarek said gently, straightening out some of Spock's tousled hair. Amanda
looked at Sarek and thought about what he just said...'excellent work,
son'. Spock laid his head on his father's thigh, patting his leg and
smiling.
Spock had recently begun to pull himself up on the furniture in the family room
and was openly enjoying his newly found upright mobility. He squealed with
delight as she handed him his favorite toy - an old
stuffed rabbit she had as a child. Holding it in little hands, studied it
carefully and smiled a semi-toothy grin. "K'nurt!" he exclaimed as the
rabbit went flying across the living room.
Sarek caught it just before it would have knocked an heirloom vase off its
pedestal. Spock laughed out loud.
After end-meal, and a rather messy exploration of carrots and globe fruit,
Spock was beginning to fight sleep. Amanda picked him up and wiped his face.
"Spock. eat more and wear less, son!" she
laughed at him, and paused as the smile faded from his face. He reached to her
and lightly touched her chin, Deep Brown never leaving her sparkling blue eyes.
"Maih-Maih,"
he cooed softly.
She cupped his face in her hand and kissed his forehead, and took him to the
nursery.
Sarek finished cleaning the kitchen, and brewed theris-masu for them both. He lit
the firepot in the family room as the desert night-chill
was settling into the house. He thought perhaps Spock would be
cooperative this night and fall into sleep easily. Sarek desired time with his aduna, and the
demands of the infant took priority in these past months. He certainly did not
resent his son for this – he was merely grateful that structure and routine
were appearing to finally help Spock to settle into his daily activities. Sarek
wanted things to return to some normalcy.
He heard her singing quietly and set the tea down to investigate. Walking softly toward the nursery, he peered
through the door from the hall, not wanting to disturb her progress in putting
their son down for the night. She sang to Spock as Deep Brown fluttered, closed
and then opened in protest again. Sarek watched as Spock snuggled against
her breast, clinging to her robe. Deep Brown finally closed in sleep,
accompanied by a small sigh. Amanda continued to hum the melody to him as she
rocked him in her antique rocking chair.
Sarek returned to the living room and prepared her tea the way she preferred
it. After a few moments, she emerged from the nursery and tip-toed
into the family room. He reached his hand to her and placed his arm around her
shoulder.
They sat together on a pallet he prepared in front of the firepot.
He watched her with his gentle hazel eyes, the ones that said everything he could
not. She looked into them and smiled.
"Spock was uncharacteristically cooperative with sleep tonight," she
said, holding his hand in hers.
"Indeed," he said softly, kissing her cheek. "I find the prospect
of uninterrupted time with you quite appealing."
"As do I...he does not afford us much for each other, does he?" she
asked, sighing as his kisses had moved to her neck and ear.
"No, but I am patient, aduna." He paused his
affections, realizing she was not completely with him in the moment. "What
are you thinking about?"
"Oh, I am sorry, Love. I was thinking about how this time with him will
disappear so quickly, that even with the distractions, interruptions, fighting
sleep, and extra laundry after every meal – I love this time in our lives. It
just reminded me of something my grandmother used to say when things were
changing in life for her," she said quietly.
Nothing Gold Can Stay by
Robert Frost
Nature's first green is gold,
Nam-tor nek-skasaya yar-kur malat nam
kin-kur –
her hardest hue to hold.
meskarau-tor kur t'ko-veh lerash.
Her early leaf's a flower;
Nam-tor ten-mal svai t'ko-veh mor
- -
but only so an hour, the flower becomes leaf.
nam-tor hi goh veh wadan
- shetau svai yi mor.
So
Vesht-nelau Hamlan svi'lak'tra
- hal-tor nelau gad-keshtan
gad.
Nothing gold can stay.
Ri nam-tor
hafau kin-kur.
"Okitausu
Frost was most wise, aduna,"
he said, holding her close in his arms.
She smiled at him with a twinkle in her eyes and leaned in for another kiss.
"Now, where were we?"