Notes: Sorry about the title; it fit the chapter so beautifully that I couldn't resist.
2. readiness to attempt or engage in what requires energy or daring
3. an undertaking or experience that involves hazard and requires boldness
4. something that one engages in or attempts
As soon as her father had left us and closed the doors behind him, I set down my half-empty glass and declared, "For nine years I have felt nothing from you in my mind. Suddenly I am the recipient of a host of impressions and emotions alien to me and inappropriate to my circumstances, followed by the very clear image of an unfamiliar and rather unattractive ear, which is accompanied by a burst of what I shall charitably call attachment. Why?"
She was prepared for the question. Perhaps I am more transparent to her than she is to me. "Ours," she said, "is a union politically and financially advantageous to both of our families. We were not consulted. We are not a couple and never can be."
"Illogical," I countered. "When two people live together and share a telepathic center, there should be at least an attempt at intimacy and harmony. The mere attempt may yield surprising gains. My parents--"
"Are sentimental and romantic, like you. Perhaps they can afford it. I cannot. My family is not Surak's; I do not have the luxury of Vulcan's unconditional approval. I will obey my Head of House by marrying you, Spock, and I will serve you in your Time as I must, as is my duty, but my children will be Vulcan. I do not care what species your children will be. I will not inquire into your bed. Stay out of mine."
This seemed to sum up her position, and I left soon afterwards. She had not answered the question of whether I would receive more resonances from her affair with Misshapen Ear.
I did. Every night. I eventually decided that he must have been of her household, perhaps even one of her servants. Her House kept them, mine did not and had not since Surak. I wondered how she expected to keep seeing him, and indeed to maintain her style of living, once we were bonded. The exploitation of intelligent beings is a thing my House disdains, and I have no desire to stray from that path.
In the beginning, I meditated through it. Once, curious, I focused on her while experiencing her reflections. What she and Misshapen Ear enjoyed was so different from what I had known and was conveyed to me so vividly that I retreated, projecting a distaste so strong that I was not troubled further that night or the next.
After that, when meditation failed me, I thought of Jim. Oddly enough, on such occasions, I invariably felt the touch of his mind. It was always an unsettling experience, for his thoughts and emotions were, by Vulcan standards, untamed. Very often I sensed in him a slow, smoldering anger, and sometimes I would catch it flaring. Just as often there would be a determined intensity, fiercer than the flares. When this happened, I would see pages of alien letters swimming in front of my eyes, the horizontal words shooting past at immense speeds.
I had always thought that Standard would be sufficient in dealing with Humans. Now I began to study English in self defense, but I could never catch more than a word or two, and many of those were definitive articles. Sometimes I would feel wistfulness from him, or amusement, or a hot, tight pressure that centered in my eyes and throat. Never did I feel fear from him, and never joy.
Sometimes, and this was temporally unrelated to my resonances with T'Pring, I would hear my name in his voice. The intervals between these occurrences were entirely random, and often caught me unawares. Once I was so taken by surprise that I smiled in the middle of a lecture by my father. It did not go unnoticed and, in fact, was commented upon at great length.
I visited T'Pau, once. Her secretary, T'Vani, seemed even more severe than usual. I explained to her that I had failed to attend at her nephew's lyrette class last month only because I was off planet, but she was unsatisfied. When T'Pau acknowledged my presence, though, she had no choice but to let me in.
It has always seemed to me that T'Pau does not change. She is a surprisingly small woman, her mouth is pinched, and the combination of her trousers and walking stick somehow adds a regal air to her stooped posture. I believe that the walking stick is an affectation, or was at one point; legend has it that she has used it since she truly began to use her power as Head of Clan Surak.
My meetings with her always go the same way. My mother urges me to go to her when I have a problem with which she cannot assist me and of which my father would disapprove. So I go, and the trip to her residence is spent trying to word my difficulty in a coherent and unemotional fashion. I spend the trip back preparing for my mother's disappointment that I have failed again to initiate the tone of confidence that she thinks should exist between a child and his grandmother.
I was not looking forward to this visit. It concerned logistics about the most emotional thing in a Vulcan's life: his bonding. Theoretical models, my usual method, did not quite seem to apply.
After the formalities had passed, I sat in her glass chair, sipping my keva juice and observing the patterns cast on the marble wall by the movement of liquid and the tints of the glass. She reproved my inattention with my name. I explained the situation as best I could. "My path is not clear before me," I told her, my eyes still on the wall. "I do not see the application of the Teachings. My Intended rejects me, has chosen another, and acted on that choice. Yet she says she will complete the Bond with me, as is her duty."
"Not all Bonds are as my son's," she chided me. "Thee has a duty to thy name and thy House."
"I will do my duty," I protested evenly. "But is that what I must do? To wed a woman whose mind I only feel in mine when she shares her body with another?"
Her appearance was grave. "Spock, thee are half human. Thy telepathic abilities--"
"I do not think they are relevant, T'Pau, if you will forgive the interruption, although I also I believe that you underestimate them. I was so... affected by her first... appearance in my mind that I acted on it."
"With another?" she inquired, one brow lifting.
"Yes," I admitted. "It was not well done."
"Kaiidth," she dismissed my apology. "Who was thy partner, and how did this happen?"
"A Human male of my approximate relative age. We had been playing chess--and T'Pau, of our three games, he defeated me once, and our third game was effectively at stalemate when T'Pring's interruption overwhelmed me. He was willing." I met her eyes in puzzlement. "I cannot explain this, T'Pau, but it was an extension of the game."
I thought, for a moment, that her face softened. A moment, no more. "And now? Has thee been in contact with him?"
"Yes, and this is why I say you underestimate my abilities. My contact with him has been purely empathic and, I think, one-sided, but it exists."
T'Pau blinked. It was a long, drawn-out blink. "Child of Sarek," she said, and her voice was tinged sour. "I have a word for thee."
"Yes, Grandmother?"
"Thy mother is a wise woman. If she gives thee advice, follow it."
"Yes, Grandmother."
"Why has thee not spoken to this Human?"
"My father does not approve of him."
"Does thy father approve of thy intent to study with the Humans?"
"No, Grandmother."
"And yet thee persists."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"My Eldest Mother approves. Is it not so, Grandmother?"
"It is so," she agreed, nodding with stately dignity. "It will be well for Vulcan, as thee are. Spock, thy Eldest Mother also approves of thy relationship with this Human. Conditionally."
"Please explain."
"Thee will go to him. I will arrange it. If all is unchanged between thee, thee will arrange to bring him to me that I may assess him. Thee will, of course, look to me for support and recourse in this. Until and unless I find him unworthy of thee and my House, thee has my approval."
I bowed my head to her, overcome and hiding my face. "Grandmother, I thank thee. Thou shalt not find him unworthy. Of that I have no doubt."
"Do not think I am kind, my grandson," she warned me sharply. "I do this for my House and the future of Vulcan. Someday thee will head the Clan of Surak. Thee must have a balance. In this thee are no different from any other Vulcan. If it is not T'Pring, it must be another. If this Human is thy t'hy'la, it is my duty to my House and to my planet to aid thee, as it is thine to marry T'Pring."
"Nevertheless," I insisted, "I thank thee."
She looked at me severely and I quailed inwardly. "The next time thee visits me, my grandson," she said sternly, "we will discuss thy grammar. I do not approve of this modern 'thou.' Thee may go."
"Live long and prosper, T'Pau," I said, presenting the ta'al as I rose.
"Live long and prosper, Spock," she returned severely, still pretending not to be touched.
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