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“Tuvok?” Janeway asked.
“Yes?” Tuvok responded.
The two of them were sitting on a levi; a very outdated piece of public transport unique to T’Pel’s birthplace and Tuvok’s adoptive home. The countryside had long stretches of uneven road and uninterrupted sky. Tuvok had a wrapped box on his lap, distinctly different from Janeway’s own wrapped box.
When he had met her by her shuttle she’d been surprised by the ‘wrapping paper’, saying it was beautiful; “Vulcans appreciate beauty.” he’d said, then looked to her own wrapped gift. It looked to be made of some sort of shiny, plastic material that glinted in the sun. Its pattern was saturated, bright, balloons and cakes decorated its surface.
Janeway had smiled, holding it up higher. “Humans appreciate the tacky.” He had not asked ‘what tacky’ meant. When he’d tried to connect his own understanding (A dull stickiness, something that clung weakly) to the gift he could not see how one applied to the other.
“If you don’t love, what connects you to your wife? Your bond, solely?”
Tuvok looked out across the levi to the field they were passing. Janeway said the levi resembled an old earthen bus turned sideways; Two rows of seats facing each other instead of forward. Tuvok remembered the first time he rode in one. He’d been disconcerted by the way it shook, believing it would break down. But it hadn’t in the decades he’d been using them.
“Do you believe your love connects you to others?” he asked.
“Yes.” Janeway said after a moment of contemplation. She had placed her gift between her legs instead of on top of them, using her hands to grab hold of the pole. There was an animal cry from the field that caught her off guard, craning her neck to see it.
“It is only a va’maveh. A ‘mocking bird’.” he assured her.
“Earth has something similar. Not quite so loud though!” Janeway said, looking astonished.
“Va’maveh are solitary creatures. There are old legends originating from the area as to why.” Tuvok said, telling Janeway of it as he recalled the first time he heard the bird’s cry.
“It is only a va’maveh.” T’Pel had said. They’d been sitting on her netted back porch, drinking tea. They had not yet moved fully into their own marital home and were instead living out of her parents’ through the process of transferring things.
“I have never heard them so loud.”
“They are bolder in the country.” T’Pel had taken a long sip from her cup, made of clay and created by her father. They had been given clay with which to make their own set of bowls, cups and such by her parents who told them ‘marriage is an art’ upon the giving.
“I was told, as a little girl by my foremother, that in very...long ago times, there was a legend concerned with why the va’maveh are such solitary creatures.” Tuvok had not yet become comfortable with T’Pel. It was difficult for them to understand one another at times. She had a slow country drawl to her words and seemed to find his own too sharp at times. Back then he’d only looked at her fully when her eyes were on something else.
“Will you tell it to me?” he’d asked.
The va’maveh, long ago, were birds that congregated and told all they knew to each other so that they may learn all the sounds of the world. First they met only every few years, then months, then days, until they were always together.
Eventually the birds ran out of sounds and so they began to mimic one another. The right bird would repeat the left and so on and so on until their beautiful birdsong became only garbled noise.
Finally, unable to take the racket, the birds all dispersed to the far corners of old Vulcan and became creatures of solitude once again.
“It serves to teach children about the importance of solitary learning. Asil was quite taken with the story when T’Pel relayed it to her.”
Janeway nodded, smiling. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen your daughter! She was barely taller than my knee! Adorable…”
Tuvok nodded. “Yes.”
“But you still haven’t answered my question.” Janeway said in a tone that made it clear she thought her friend was being sneaky and that she had caught him.
Tuvok, who had not meant to be, nodded again. “No, I have not.”
They got off the levi at the bottom of a hill and Janeway watched it go, holding onto the sunhat she’d come wearing. Tuvok was looking at the gift tucked under her arm.
“Commander?”
Janeway turned, looking amused by his refusal to use her name. “Yes?”
“What is ‘tacky’?”
Janeway laughed softly, walking over to him and holding up her gift yet again. “Tacky means in poor taste. Loud. Gaudy. Like wrapping a present for your friend’s wife in leftover birthday wrapping paper because it was the only thing you could find in your house.”
Tuvok nodded. “I see. Thank you, commander.”
Janeway grinned. “Think nothing of it. Thank you for giving me something to teach you. I don’t think that’ll be a routine occurrence on this trip.” she said, beginning to hike up the hill. Tuvok walked beside her, navigating the terrain easily as she struggled. “Now you’re just showing off.”
“I am doing no such thing.” Tuvok said, gliding elegantly over a rock.
The two of them walked in silence for a time, listening to the natural sounds around them. Tuvok enjoyed walking in the country. Where he’d grown up was too busy for leisurely strolls and at first when he and T’Pel walked together they would become annoyed with one another’s pace; Tuvok thinking her too slow, stopping unnecessarily and T’pel thinking him too impatient, missing small details.
Janeway walked slowly as well, marvelling at certain things which had long since become commonplace to the vulcan.
“What a spectacular cliff! Is it sparkling?”
“It is. There are stones within it which reflect the light. Some areas dense with it seem to glow during the night.”
“Fascinating…” She turned to him, crossing her arms. Sweat was beginning to run down her temple. “So, I believe love connects me to others. Are you saying you don’t believe that?”
“I am not.” Tuvok responded, taking a fan from his bag and handing it to the commander. She had initially refused the vendor at the shuttle station, saying she was ‘good’ with the heat but Tuvok had bought one for her while waiting for the shuttle’s arrival, anticipating such an act. “But love is a fickle thing. It is strong one moment then gone the next. One can fall into and out of it with ease, it is foolish to build a relationship which one hopes to last on ‘love’.”
Janeway’s eyes lit up at the sight of the fan and she took it gratefully, fanning herself. They paused by the side of the road to talk in the shade of the cliff. A group of vulcans walked by, an old woman and two bickering children. They appeared to be arguing about whose ears were bigger.
“I suppose you’re right in some respects.” Janeway said. “There was a boy in my high school who I was absolutely taken with, as if he’d hung the moon. I was certain I was in love with him for the better part of two years and then he said something...oh I can’t even remember anymore. But I suddenly thought he was the most average boy in the world again.”
Tuvok nodded.
“...But one could argue that that was a crush not love.”
Tuvok closed his eyes. It was a pleasantly warm day. Janeway was no doubt hot. “Humans are fond of their distinctions.”
“Would you not say your attachment to your parents is different from that to T’Pel? To your children?”
“They are. But again, it is not love.”
“So explain it to me.”
Tuvok thought of his mother as he listened to the children argue further up the road. He remembered being young enough to carry and being held close to her breast by a harness as she navigated through a busy street. He’d been frightened by the noise and begun to squirm but she had placed her hands over his ears and looked steadily down at him.
There is nothing to fear. she’d told him and he had instantly calmed, believing her. For the rest of the journey whenever he felt a panic rising in him at the noise, the people, the unfamiliar colors and his own confusion, his mother’s words would tamp it down.
When Sek was very young he had let go of Tuvok’s hand in a market and become lost among the crowd. His son’s panic was immediate and powerful, a skittish animal, and Tuvok had had to pause in order to properly address it.
Stay where you are. I will come to you. The panic remained but dulled and Tuvok carefully retraced his steps until he found his son again, standing still while clutching his bag to his chest.
The boy had run up to him and taken his hand again.
“I’m sorry for letting go.” Sek had said.
Tuvok had known the boy hadn’t done so on purpose. He was not a mischievous child. “Your apology is unnecessary. We will both be more vigilant next time. Are you alright?”
Sek paused before nodding. “I was scared but I knew you would not leave me, and once I knew that I wasn’t scared anymore.”
When Tuvok meditated on the event later that evening he’d realized that he’d been frightened as well, just as much as Sek. Fear was not a productive emotion and fear had not been a new one regarding Sek. Ever since the boy’s birth Tuvok had had to contend with a wide variety of fears regarding the death or loss of his son. However he had not felt fear in the marketplace. He had only been aware of Sek’s and ‘felt’ a desire to calm it.
He had seen other races flit about, frightened and letting the fear overwhelm them. It distracted from the task at hand. They said things like ‘how could you have been so calm?’ He didn’t understand how they could be so reckless.
“Explain love to me.” he said in response to Janeway’s inquiry.
The commander laughed. “You got me. Let’s walk a bit more, let me think.”
They walked through the town the hill wound around. It was a small town half-built into rockface. Tuvok had seen human towns when he’d gone to visit Janeway on earth. They were much more sectioned-out. Children played in their front yards and quieted around strangers. Here the children ran wherever they wished, older vulcans watched from windows or porches.
Just as they were about to leave the town there was a cry from behind them and they both turned to see a small girl standing in front of them, separated from a slightly larger group of children behind her.
“Sh’veh Kaluk!” She said, pointing to Janeway.
Janeway blinked and repeated the phrase into her translator. “I didn’t get the first part. My ears?”
“She’s not speaking in standard Vulcan.” Tuvok explained. He turned to the girl. “T’nash veh besu nam-tor wuh komihn.”
“Komihn?” The girl asked, perking up. She tilted her head and cupped her own ears. “Mokuhleh she zu-tor?”
“Ha.” Tuvok nodded.
The girl regarded Janeway carefully for a moment before beginning to speak again, slowly. “Hah-lo Hu-man!”
Janeway grinned, crouching down. “Tonk’peh. Are those your friends?”
The girl looked to Tuvok and he translated for her. The girl turned to look at the children behind her. She nodded and spoke again, gesturing. When Janeway clearly didn’t understand her she tried again. “Tor sh’veh kaluk da’tor?” She asked.
“She wants to know if your ears hurt. Her companions were worried that they’d been cut in some manner.” He looked at Janeway, raising an eyebrow. “She also asked earlier if you could hear.”
Janeway smiled, knowing Tuvok often got asked the inverse. “Tell her I’m fine. Does she want to feel them?”
Tuvok watched patiently as Janeway let each of the children come over and tentatively touch her ears, some recoiling away and others taking on the task with interest. Eventually they parted ways, Janeway waving to the children as they walked down the hill towards Tuvok’s neighborhood. Some of the children mimicked the gesture and others gave the standard salute before returning to their town.
“Kids. I love their curiosity! They aren’t afraid to ask questions, give new things a try. We lose too much of that when we get older.”
“Indeed. Knowledge is a never ending quest.”
“The translator should be better with dialects. I’ll have to inquire about that…”
“Perhaps if you upgraded yours…”
Janeway patted the device like a dog. “Nope. Old reliable got her name for a reason!”
Tuvok couldn’t imagine it was due to its reliability but he didn’t voice that opinion, fearing it would be regarded as humorous. Janeway was not the kind of human to harp on such instances, letting most go by with only a smile, a chuckle, the raise of her brow, but he was not in the mood for it. He was enjoying their conversation and the walk.
The hill leading down to the valley where he lived was winding and Tuvok often had to pause to direct his companion over a particularly narrow bit of road.
“Okay, so let’s forget about ‘what is love’ in the general sense. We could debate that for the rest of our lives, what I’m asking is...well...how do you feel about T’Pel? Let’s start there.”
“I hold her in high regard.”
“Right, but how- hm. What form does your bond to her take?” Janeway asked, deciding to cast aside the word ‘feel.’
Tuvok had told her once that his connection to T’Pel, his not-love for her, could not be described as an emotion. “It does not wax or wane, it is irrepressible.”
Vulcans all had differing methods of dealing with their emotions. Tuvok pictured his as balls of light. Some lit up his entire body and others were just a dull glow beneath the skin. However, they could always be dimmed, by time or a cupped hand. No matter how great the fire, it would eventually burn out.
“The goal is to stop it.” His father had told him when he was a teenager. They were hiking up to the cave where the Vulcan master lived, Tuvok’s elbow held firmly in his father’s fist. Tuvok had attempted to run twice before. His father’s grip was strong enough to deter this but not strong enough to hurt him. Regret clouded the older man’s mind and Tuvok projected his own anger to combat it.
“This ‘love’...Shon-ha’lock. It is dangerous. When left uncontrolled it can cause untold destruction. Even if a fire always burns out that does not mean we can leave it unchecked.”
Tuvok had not understood. Had not wanted to understand at the time. He’d turned his thoughts to the terrelian girl he’d fallen for; Jara occupied his every thought, set him alight. He burned for her. He did not care if it hurt him or his parents or even, looking back on it, the girl herself whom he had not ever exchanged more than pleasantries with.
“My bond to T’Pel is as integral to me as an organ.” Tuvok told Janeway, taking her hand to steady her as she leapt inadvisably over the gap between them.
“But it’s not a feeling?”
Tuvok paused to think, frustrated by his inability to explain and annoyed by her human desire to ascribe ‘feeling’ to his bond with T’Pel, cheapening it. He took these emotions and quickly let them dissipate, cooling in his hands until he could ‘drop’ them down into the still darkness of his mind. Then, unburdened by emotion, he continued.
“No...there is a vulcan term used for lovers. It translates to ‘she-who-is-him’ and ‘he-who-is-her.’ Other races, particularly humans, have frequently mistranslated it to ‘she-who-is-his’ and ‘he-who-is-hers’.”
Janeway nodded. While he was thinking on his answer she had picked up a rock and examined it closely and now, upon his return to the conversation, was tucking it into her bag. “I’ve seen those in kiosks. On cards.”
They were very high up. Below them was an expansive valley. The houses were spaced out from each other unlike in town and no noise rose up to meet them. Only the slight clink of bells and stray music notes. There was a very slight breeze and Janeway closed her eyes, enjoying it.
“From what I gather, with humans, there is a feeling with love. A possession, a desire. I feel no desire for T’Pel. No possession of her. I am she, we are bonded.”
“If you were to visualize your bond...do you remember that one time after we had to negotiate with that dignitary on Gama 6? You led me through a meditation so I could get through the next round and you told me you visualized your emotions like lights, is that right?”
“Yes. And you saw yours as stars if I remember correctly.”
Janeway grinned. “If that isn’t Captain material!”
Tuvok ignored this, the both of them knowing it was a nonsensical statement. Janeway was captain material for a thousand other, logical, reasons. “Our bond…”
He pictured his body and T’Pel’s overlapping. One being. One mind. His thoughts were her thoughts.
Jara had been a mystery to him. Every word she said to him a treasure. T’Pel was, at first, a foreign yet constant presence. Jara occupied the mind. T’pel made up the mind.
He explained this to Janeway as they continued their way down the hill. There was no longer any degree of treachery to their journey and the commander often paused to take in the view, asking Tuvok about the various rocks and plants that caught her eye.
“If that’s true then what’s keeping you together?” Before Tuvok could reply she waved the question away and her friend paused, letting her rephrase. She was holding a rock to the light, letting it glimmer. “Don’t you get bored of one another? What incentive is there to talk, to be together? I imagine it’d be like...talking to yourself.”
“Is that not a stimulating activity?”
Janeway smiled wryly. “When I talk to myself it’s far from ‘stimulating.’ I guess, on the other side of the argument, is the concept of knowing someone better than you know yourself. That’s a human romantic ideal too. Not one that’s appealed to me. If someone knew me like that...well I’d consider myself a very boring person.”
“What would be the goal of a human marriage?”
Janeway shrugged, placing the rock back down instead of tossing it. “No goal. People get married for love, most of the time. That’s the ideal anyway. You love someone and want to be with them forever, so you marry.”
“But it is not always forever.”
“Do Vulcans not get divorced?”
“There are some.”
“What keeps you from divorcing T’Pel then? There must be something...well, from what you said it would be like having an organ removed wouldn’t it? So is that what a vulcan marriage is? Complacency? But no, I’m sorry, I’m being rude but-” She paused. They had reached the bottom of the hill and she was looking back, remembering how far they’d climbed perhaps.
“I just want to understand. I was being rude, complacency wasn’t the right word.” Janeway’s voice was soft and Tuvok had already dispelled his annoyance at the comment she was apologizing for. Had dispelled it instantly, it was easy to do with Janeway. She was a kind human and a remarkable leader, always apologizing for missteps and never asking questions with a mocking intent as he had encountered with other humans.
“Another woman couldn’t replace T’Pel in your mind?”
“No other could replace her.”
“Is that because you are bonded or because she’s...herself?”
“I do not understand.” Tuvok answered.
The valley Tuvok lived in was surrounded by reddish brown rock that seemed to be isolated and stretch on for miles. It was easy to forget about the town overhead. There were trees. Janeway hadn’t expected there to be trees.
“They have been planted here intentionally.” Tuvok said, following her gaze.
“Ah.” Janeway nodded. She followed Tuvok as he led the way towards his house. It was easy to feel dwarfed by the natural beauty of his colony’s landscape. Everything was tall and looming, stately, unblemished. “What I’m asking is...with me, you enjoy my company, yes? My specific company?”
“Yes.” Tuvok said and Janeway did not pause to emphasize the point. It was another reason Tuvok enjoyed her company. He did not feel as...guarded, as he did with other humans. It did not feel as if she were waiting for him to slip.
“Then with T’Pel, do you enjoy her individual company? Is there something about her you couldn’t get with another woman, another person?”
“I do not know the answer. When I met T’Pel she was a stranger to me and then my wife.”
“Right. Of course, right.” Janeway laughed to herself, touching her temple. “I am sorry Tuvok. I promise my intent isn’t to pry-”
“Think nothing of it, commander.” Tuvok said. He knew that something was troubling the woman. She had not previously shown any marked interest in his relationship to T’Pel and even now her interest seemed general despite the specificity of her questions. He sensed it was something beyond him that she was after and he hoped to be able to offer her something of value through their conversation.
He idly wondered, as they walked, why humans placed so much value on the ability to love as they did. Perhaps it was to validate their own experiences. ‘Love’ was such a fickle thing. Perhaps, like fire, it needed to be fed and the feeding was done through the seeking out of more.
“But Tuvok you must love her. She’s your daughter, you must love her!”
“I am a vulcan and as such do not experience love.”
“Jesus...what a terrible thing to say. Christ…”
There had been a human parent and child staying at the colony, going to the school there. Tuvok had begun to forge a tenuous bond with the parent, a father whose wife was in star fleet.
One day they had been picking up their children and some comment had been made about love in parenting, how important it was, and Tuvok had disagreed.
The human’s child had looked as alarmed as her parent, hugging Asil who seemed to be more occupied by the plant in her hand than the conversation.
“Daddy…!”
“I’m sure it isn’t true, it’s just…”
“Do you love me? Do you promise to…”
“Of course, always…”
The human parent and child had left clinging to one another, the human child crying, and Tuvok had stood with his daughter by his side, watching them until they were little more than specks. Anger ran through him, appearing in bursts, difficult to cast aside. It was that sort of behaviour that had sent him from star fleet. Egocentric humanity.
Asil had taken his hand and looked up at him, confused as to why they were not moving and so he had begun to walk towards the levi stop that would take them home.
“What is this?” Asil had asked him, trying to communicate telepathically but being too young to do so entirely and so having to rely on her voice. She held a flower up towards him and Tuvok took it to examine closer.
His anger had been forgotten after that, in favor of teaching her about the flower.
To say that Asil was as essential to him as an organ was false. It was too shallow. Organs could be removed, replaced. Asil was an entirely new and vital part of him, all of his children were. As they had grown inside T’Pel so too had they grown in him and changed him irrevocably.
“Would you not say your attachment to your parents is different from that to T’Pel? To your children?”
Tuvok revised his earlier visualization. He and T’Pel were not one homogenized mind. Janeway had been correct to question it; T’Pel was...half a mind. And he the other. They were two hands, two gears which strived to move in harmony. Unidentical but fitting together. Independent but paired.
When they had first been bonded it’d been a struggle. T’Pel’s presence with him was foreign and they were out of sync, uncompromising. Then one day they’d been discussing something...he couldn’t remember now, but it had turned from observation to debate in an instant and they’d gone back and forth until they found that words could no longer communicate enough and so they’d moved from mouth to mind. And he had understood her wholly as she understood him. They did not agree but they had understood and suddenly there was no need for anger or annoyance and they were no longer arguing but exploring.
Why do you think-
Because-
I wish you would-
If you could see-
I grew up-
I know-
Why do you think-
Love could not compare.
Tuvok’s house was a two story home with a wraparound porch. Trees had been planted to shield the view of the property and many of the windows on the first floor were wide, meant to let in as much sun as possible. Janeway had visited only twice before and remembered sleeping on the back porch, sun blanketing her in a singular heat and Tuvok’s baby niece on her stomach.
As they entered the property the sound of running water welcomed them and Janeway smiled, feeling at home.
“Good to be home?” She asked as Tuvok opened the door.
“I have been home for several days prior.” He reminded her.
Sek greeted them both in the foyer, taking Janeway’s luggage and leading her to the guest room as Tuvok excused himself and broke away. The inner walls of Tuvok’s home were mostly neutral tones in keeping with other country houses: tan, beige, brown, orange, but there were distinct flourishes of color that broke with traditional styling. Flowers sat in jewel-tones vases and vines crept up certain walls, vines that Janeway remembered bloomed when it suited them and filled the house with a slightly sweet smell. The stairway was narrow and enclosed, made with rock that glowed a soft orange in the dark.
“How have you been, Sek?” Janeway asked. When she had last seen Sek he had been a somewhat sullen boy, standing distant from the rest of his family unless he was called upon. He had grown taller than her now and there was a confidence to his movements that hadn’t been there before, at least in her memory.
“Well, thank you.” He responded.
“I hear you’re studying to become a professor?”
“Yes. I have found it rewarding to teach others. I often assisted my siblings in their schooling.”
“And are your siblings well? I heard Elieth’s been getting into a bit of trouble.”
Sek sighed as if put upon, emerging from the stairway and walking down the hall. The hall’s entire garden-facing wall was made of one sheet of glass, providing a view of the entire area surrounding Tuvok’s home. Every second floor room faced the view. “Elieth seems to enjoy his troubles. There is no other reason, logically, why he should have so many of them.”
Janeway chuckled and Sek stopped in front of the guest room, opening it and placing her luggage inside. The guest room was small but not cramped, at least not now. Janeway had a habit of moving and adding things that drove Tuvok a bit crazy though his wife didn’t seem to mind the bit of chaos.
“My sister and Varith are well…” Sek said, gearing up for something. He straightened. “If I may make a request of you?”
Janeway nodded, smiling reassuringly at Sek who seemed to be unsure, eyes refusing to meet hers for a time. “...My betrothed, T’Lan, we keep a regular correspondence and her brother has been considering entering star fleet upon his graduation from schooling. He appears to be quite conflicted, I was wondering if you would speak with him? I believe he would benefit from speaking with a member firsthand. Especially a non-vulcan.”
Janeway nodded. “I’d be happy to.”
The young man looked relieved and bowed his head in thanks. “I am grateful.”
“Truly, it’s my pleasure. Your family’s done so much for me…” She looked out the window then quickly back to the young man, “Oh, Sek. One question?”
Sek tilted his head. “Yes?”
“This is to impress your fiancée, T’Lan, was it?”
Sek’s face colored slightly, his dark skin growing darker in a way that Janeway had never seen in humans with a similar tone. He lowered his eyes. “Please, I assure you my intentions are not purely selfish-”
Janeway held up her hands apologetically. “No, no of course not! I was just wondering why? Surely, if you’re going to be bonded anyway there’s no need to impress one another.”
Sek only seemed embarrassed. “While that might be true I wish for our marriage to run as smoothly as possible. It must be cultivated and tended to like my father’s flowers.”
“So it isn’t instant, that connection?”
“The connection is forged with time. The bond is instant.”
Janeway nodded, sitting on the bed and contemplating this. The bedroom’s window was not as wide as the ones in the hall. It was circular and high, letting in a spotlight of orange. Sek stood next to the clean desk, hands clasped in front of him.
Janeway smiled. “Tell me about T’Lan.”
Sek straightened. “What would you like to know?”
“Anything that comes to mind. I haven’t seen you in so long.”
Sek paused in thought but apparently the allure of bragging about one’s partner was too strong for even a vulcan. “She lives in the city my father once did, her family and mine have been linked for a while. There was even talks of my father marrying one of their daughters before my mother was chosen instead.”
Janeway furrowed her brows. “Why was that?”
“I am not entirely sure. My foremother says she felt their temperaments were too volatile to be paired together and when she looked for guidance from a priestess she agreed. The relationship would have been unbalanced.” On seeing Janeway’s confusion he clarified. “Their personalities would have been too similar.”
“And that’s bad?”
“You cannot make bread with flour alone.” Sek said, quoting something. “Has that answered your question?”
“It has, thank you.” Janeway said, leaning forward. “But you’re not getting away without telling me about this T’Lan girl!”
By the time Tuvok went to find Janeway the sun was setting. She and Sek were sitting in the hall outside the guest room, Sek politely watching Janeway surveying the view as if she were on the bridge. Sek was talking of T’Lan, of her recent letter which spoke of her desire to visit an ocean.
Seeing that Janeway was alright Tuvok decided to return downstairs. He had changed out of his travelling robes to the ones he wore at him, lighter and more colorful - a lush green with notes of tan and yellow. The tile floor was cool against his bare feet and had an intricate pattern etched into the glazed-over stone.
T’Pel had hired an old etcher and his apprentice from town to work on it, the etcher’s apprentice being a companion from childhood. They had lived in the house and worked from sunrise to sunset for a week until the tiles told a story, one that changed depending on where in the room you stood. It was a popular form of art in the country. Tuvok had been fascinated by the process and later gifted T’Pel with an etching he’d done on his own time, the va’maveh bird in flight. He hadn’t seen it since.
“Sasa!” Cried a little voice and Tuvok turned towards it, seeing Varith stumbling towards him on unsteady legs, gripping the wall for balance. Tuvok crouched down and waited for his son to be within reach before lifting him in his arms.
“You are becoming quite skilled.” Tuvok complimented the boy, running a hand over his soft curls. He’d been born with the most hair other than Asil, fat bouncy curls. They got this from their mother. Tuvok’s own hair was tightly coiled like Elieth and Sek’s.
“Sasa….” Varith repeated before babbling in a way that made no sense to his father. He was projecting a variety of passive images and infant-thoughts to Tuvok’s mind, none of which had any substance but which Tuvok allowed anyway. He seemed to be in good spirits and excited by his father’s presence.
“Yes. It is good to be home.” Tuvok said, letting his enjoyment seep freely through their bond. Varith smiled briefly before frowning. It meant nothing, an infant making faces. Tuvok was briefly saddened by the thought that this would be his last time experiencing a baby that was his. Then the thought and the sadness it brought was gone.
When Janeway found Tuvok he was on the back porch, entertaining his children. Asil was dressed in a robe that must have been her mother’s, far too big for her, and lecturing to her father and brother.
“No, it is no longer about the pursuit of a specific field of knowledge, it is about the subject and subjectivity itself.” Asil said, clearly mimicking someone. “And then I said that to try and approach it through the lens of a ‘pursuit’ was what was troubling me. Why must there be a pursuit of knowledge? The language is too aggressive.”
“What would be preferable?” Tuvok asked, grabbing the back of Varith’s baby clothes as his son approached the edge of the porch. He pulled the boy back into his lap and pressed a finger to his lips as he began to fuss. “Calm. All is well. Ek’nash-veh tor tor ek’manek.”
Asil paused her pacing and moved closer to her father, falling heavy on her knees before flopping fully to the ground. Janeway marveled at how she’d grown. When she’d last seen her she could barely speak and now here she was, looking around the age of an elementary schooler.
The girl looked up at her father through her beautiful mess of curls, half-done in a series of braids. “Sa’mekh, can you do my hair for the party tomorrow?”
“Whenever I do your hair you struggle against it.” Tuvok pointed out. Varith had taken one of his fingers and was gumming on it. Tuvok did not seem to mind.
“It hurts!” Asil protested.
“Then the question remains.”
Asil kicked her feet idly, thinking. “When you do my hair it looks beautiful. No other children have beads from the city and Ko’mekh doesn’t know how to do braids so intricate. She makes me look like a farmer.”
“Do not speak ill of your mother.” Tuvok chided, eyes meeting his daughter’s in reproach.
“Sorry.” Asil said, frowning. “...Where is Elieth?”
“I believe he is in his room.”
“Will he come out to play?”
“You must ask him that yourself.”
“Will you sing to us? Me and Varith?”
“Varith has no desire to hear me sing.”
“Will you sing for me?”
Asil reached out and touched Tuvok’s hand, eyes wide and curious. Her lower lip trembled from some hidden emotion and Tuvok’s eyes rose to hers where they had previously been trained on her baby brother. There was a beat of silence. Tuvok’s back porch was screened in to keep insects from gaining access to the house and beyond the net was a garden of green. Janeway could see the edge of a pond she knew to be full of fish, one for each of the children, that they kept as pets. She could hear the water now, running over the porch’s roofing through exposed glass tubes, circulating the pond.
“...I will sing for you.” Tuvok replied. “Something short.”
Asil picked up Varith and sat opposite her father, holding her brother around the middle as he fussed over the loss of his teething ‘toy’. “What about the one your mother used to sing to you? The one about the river?”
“As you wish.”
Tuvok had a beautiful voice. It was gentle but not quiet and whenever Janeway had had the pleasure of hearing him sing it always sounded as if he were deeply moved by the words. She moved closer as he began the first notes.
The river, my child, is deep and it runs
Through the lush green valleys of Vulcan, like blood
And glows in the sun like a new-formed blade
It shimmers and shys from your eye
The river, my child, is deep and it runs
Like you do to cliffs, to look down on Rah
And the river, like you, it bleeds and is cut
By redrock and stone and wintertime rust
The river, my child, is deep and it runs
I bathe in and know it like lines on the hand
Like I know your mind, like I speak with the sand
And breathe in the air and drink from its cup
And at night we sing praises
And listen
And still.
And the river it runs, it runs, it runs.
“And the river it runs, it runs, it runs.” Asil finished with him, eyes closed.
“That was beautiful.” Janeway said and the little girl jumped, disturbing her brother to tears. “I didn’t mean to scare you!” Janeway said with a laugh, holding up a hand.
Asil’s face morphed from serenity to anger, teeth bared. “Go wait on water!”
“Asil.” Tuvok exclaimed, astonished. Before he could say anything else she fled the scene, pushing past Janeway and running into the house. Tuvok stared after her, mouth set in a grim line. “I apologize, commander.”
Janeway shrugged. “No harm no foul, I didn’t understand the insult myself.”
The insult came from a tale cautioning against blind faith and complacency. A farmer, ignoring a variety of characters who advise him on a number of methods to replenish his crops with water, chooses instead to simply wait. Depending on the teller of the story, the farmer either dies in the field or is forced to admit his foolishness, humiliated. Whenever Tuvok’s father told it to him the farmer died. Whenever Tuvok told it to his children the farmer lived.
“Elieth is influencing her.” Tuvok sighed, taking Varith in his arms and coddling him. The toddler immediately calmed, Tuvok easily soothing him through their bond. He dispelled his disappointment and worry at Asil’s actions and let his mind be filled with only a calm blue light.
“Wants to be like her big brother? I wish my sister looked up to me that much. I was always the one being told to act more like her!” Janeway said, sitting down beside her friend. “Can I hold him?”
Tuvok handed Varith over to Janeway and stretched. “Did you have an enjoyable conversation with Sek?”
“Yes, he’s so big now!”
“Children tend to do that.”
Janeway laughed and Varith looked startled. “Oh my, haven’t seen anyone laugh before have you?” Janeway cooed. “Don’t worry, your daddy’s right there to protect you.” she pointed to Tuvok and Varith followed her finger with his eyes. Tuvok quickly reached into his pocket and handed the boy a teething toy. If he bit Janeway’s finger it would surely injure her.
“He’s studying to be a professor, just like his father, hm?”
“I have taken great pains not to push my children towards any particular profession.” Tuvok answered whatever question was implied. While he had eventually rejoined star fleet in his own time, his initial joining had been entirely at the behest of his parents and thus his experience had been poor. He did not want his children to go through the same thing.
“I only meant that he looks up to you. You’re a good father, Tuvok.”
“Thank you.” He had a memory of his own father. Tuvok was sitting in his lap, asleep, and his father was smoking something scented above him. It smelled like soil and was sweet and seemed to color Tuvok’s half-dreams.
“Sek also told me something interesting that I think we should add to our conversation, our ongoing one.”
Tuvok tilted his head to indicate he was listening.
“He said that you were almost betrothed to another woman but your personalities were too similar, or something along those lines. And he said that T’Lan alone held his interest. From that I’d like to return to my earlier point about how much the individual factors into a vulcan bond of marriage.”
“I would also like to return to that and revise my earlier statement. I indicated that we were...one. One being, when it is more truthful to say that we are two distinct parts of a whole. Like two hands strumming an instrument. With another person the melody would be different. The method as well.”
Janeway smiled down at Varith. “And you prefer T’Pel’s.”
Tuvok couldn’t imagine playing without her. It was inconceivable. There would be no more music.
“Your garden is beautiful. I couldn’t keep a cactus alive.” Janeway commented suddenly.
“But you have reared your dog well.” Tuvok pointed out. Varith reached for his father’s voice and so Janeway passed the baby back, huffing with faux effort.
“He’s so big!”
“All of my children have grown.” Tuvok said with a clear exhaustion on the topic, making Janeway laugh again.
She had changed into a robe of her own and when she fell backwards to lie on the porch’s imported city wood, Tuvok saw that it was fastened incorrectly.
“Commander-”
The two of them moved to a small dressing room on the first floor. Varith had been given to Sek who was hurrying to town to help T’Pel with the bags her sisters had brought.
Janeway shed the robe unabashedly. There was nothing to see, she was wearing an underdress that fell around her ankles beneath it, the same as Tuvok’s but in a neutral color for guests. Tuvok held the garment open the right way and began to fasten it as Janeway waited patiently.
“It is done.”
Janeway admired herself in the mirror. “Oh, this feels much better. Could you imagine if your sisters-in-law saw me like that?”
“They would have found it...amusing.” Tuvok said, agreeing with her hypothetical horror. “Commander?”
“Yes?”
“How have you experienced human love? What does it...feel, like?”
“It’s not quite as close as its vulcan equivalent.” Janeway chuckled. The dressing room was dimly lit. The singular window was made of painted glass, making the entire room red. “It sounds suffocating, honestly. That kind of bond. Humans really are much more individual-minded.”
“Individual-minded?”
Janeway gestured for Tuvok to walk with her, apparently bored of standing. She was the type of woman who liked to walk, to explore. She was nearly always doing something, moving, looking, turning things over, even things she’d seen and held a thousand times.
“Human marriage and love is about an appreciation for the other. There’s a ‘we’ of course...god, some people are obsessed with the ‘we’, you should hear my sister- but it’s not all about that. That’s why we date, to find someone we like and then love. It’s very important, dating. Exploring your options.”
Tuvok walked with his hands clasped behind his back. Janeway walked beside him, moving ahead at some points. They were outside, making a lap around the garden. The sound of water was drawing closer. “How can you say that you love someone, that you wish to dedicate your life to them, if you do not know them?” Tuvok asked.
“Know them? Is that different from ‘know’ in english?”
Tuvok considered this. “Yes...it is...deeper. I understand T’Pel intimately, in a way I understand no other, not even my children.”
“Humans can’t achieve that kind of closeness so we settle for our own.” Janeway bent down at the edge of the pond as it came into view, dipping her fingers in the water and swirling them to create a slow spiral that the fish gravitated to. “You were right, there is a sort of possessiveness isn’t there? That comes from not knowing as deeply as a vulcan knows their partner...there used to be something very patriarchal- A woman as property of a man. That’s long dead of course but its ghost remains. Humans want some assurance that...everything will be alright.”
Tuvok watched Janeway’s back and didn’t reply.
“...How do I know?”
“About Mark?” Tuvok asked, having already guessed the source of her questions.
“He’s asked me to move in with him.” Janeway said, the tension in her body dissipating, glad to have been caught. She didn’t know if she would have been able to broach the subject on her own. “I don’t know what to tell him.”
“What is stopping you from saying yes or no?” Tuvok looked towards the house. He could see his daughter in the doorway, sitting down and watching them. He turned back to Janeway.
“I’m not sure about anything. How can I say yes if I’m not sure? I love him, I do love him of course but it’s a big step. Sharing a home...having him be there everyday...I can name a hundred things I love about him but do I love him?”
Tuvok thought on this, crouching down beside her. Janeway’s cheek was resting on her knees. Tuvok’s hands rested on his, wrists crossed elegantly over one another.
“I don’t want to lose him, Tuvok.”
“And you fear that in becoming closer you would lose something?” Tuvok asked, not understanding.
“I don’t want to grow to hate him and I don’t want to lose myself to be with him. That happens to some couples. You should see my sister.”
“...It is sometimes difficult to tell the difference between a loss and a gain.”
Janeway raised an eyebrow and Tuvok looked into the water. Elieth’s fish was growing fat. The boy spoiled her, was at the pond whenever he had a free moment. Once Tuvok had rushed out to the garden in the dead of night upon seeing his body on the ground but realized when he lifted the boy up into his arms that he’d merely fallen asleep staring at the movement of the fish.
“After T’Pel and I married I decided to move to the country to be with her. My parents did not understand this decision but I was grateful to her, T’Pel, for having me despite my...past indiscretions.” Again he remembered his father’s hand on his elbow, pulling him up towards the vulcan master, the anger, the fire. He remembered quitting star fleet against his parents’ wishes, refusing to explain himself, knowing any explanation would be unacceptable.
“And because of those indiscretions she did not have a high estimation of me. As I did not have a high estimation of the countryside that had raised her. The first few months of our marriage were...less than harmonious. It was quiet. We were alone.”
The two of them had barely seen each other those first few months, except to eat and sleep and even those were done in a silence tense with things held back. They did not explore their bond.
“After those few months my doubts about the move became a constant source of discomfort. I had not enjoyed my time and my parents continued to question my decision. It began to seem...illogical. Another example of my youthful rashness, perhaps. Then…”
He still remembered the moment clearly. He had been in their bedroom, lying down after a fainting spell. He had been feeling ill but continued on about his day, not thinking it serious, and found himself on the ground in the hall. T’Pel had half-carried him back to the room and he could hear her in the kitchen, moving pots and pans.
He’d closed his eyes and had apparently fallen asleep, opening them again to see T’Pel sitting over him.
“I made you plomeek soup.” T’Pel told him and Tuvok had taken it with a bit of a wince, expecting the heavy, country-style version of the dish and being surprised to find it more closely resembled the soup from his own childhood, a thin broth with only a few vegetables.
He’d looked up at her and T’Pel had looked a bit unsure. “Is this acceptable? I inquired about your preferences to your mother since you have not been eating much lately. I thought perhaps the food was not to your taste.”
Tuvok had been momentarily overwhelmed with shame at his own behaviour. He’d realized that while he had moved to the country he hadn’t made any true effort to acclimate to it, to compromise.
“Yes, it is acceptable. Thank you.” He’d said, taking a sip from the bowl. “When I am feeling well, would you teach me how to make…?”
After that the two of them had begun to speak more, teaching one another. He had begun to appreciate the natural beauty of the country and the wisdom T’Pel had that was pulled from it.
“...so while I lost something of the identity I had before, I gained much in place of it.” Tuvok finished, looking towards his friend. “It occurs to me that we as changeable beings are always in the process of gain and loss. For example, before meeting you I had an opinion I thought I would hold all my life about human beings. That they were selfish, egotistical, incapable of meaningfully casting aside their own perspective in order to understand another’s. I have lost that opinion. And in the process gained a friend.”
Janeway’s eyes crinkled as a wide smile spread across her face. “Thank you, Tuvok.” she whispered, reaching out towards him. Tuvok took her hand without looking at it, squeezing it gently in his own. “You know I love you, don’t you?”
Tuvok nodded. “Yes.”
Tears shone in Janeway’s eyes, unshed. She stood. “Good. Good.” She stretched, angling her body towards the house. “Looks like we have a few onlookers.”
Tuvok peered in the direction she was looking in and stood. Elieth and Asil were on the porch, a melon shared between them. They were both watching the pond and Tuvok moved towards them, walking leisurely with Janeway close behind.
“Children.” Tuvok said.
Elieth was lying on his stomach, eating cubed fruit speared on a metal stick. “Ko’meh has returned.” he said.
“I am aware.” Tuvok turned towards Asil. “Do you have anything to say to Janeway?”
Asil avoided his eye, looking down at the porch’s wood.
“It’s okay, Tuvok.” Janeway assured him. She looked down at the plate of cubed fruit and Elieth eagerly handed her a piece. Janeway chewed with a hand over her mouth, widening her eyes and nodding at the boy. “Delicious.”
“It is my favorite fruit. My aunt brings it because we can’t grow it here.”
Tuvok appeared displeased to see the fruit, nodding towards Janeway before side-stepping his children and going inside, calling the name of his sister-in-law.
“Sa’meh doesn’t like us having too much.”
“I hear it rots your teeth.” Janeway joked. Elieth screwed up his face before taking another satisfied bite.
Janeway felt a tug at her waist and looked down to see Asil standing next to her, head still aimed downward but pressed against her leg.
“I apologize for being rude to you, T’sai Janeway.” she said.
The commander smiled and patted her head. “It’s alright. Can I ask what upset you so much?”
Asil raised her head and blinked up at her. “I have not meditated on it yet. I will tonight and then get back to you.”
Janeway nodded seriously to match the girl’s tone. “Of course. I look forward to it.”
After that Janeway sat down with the two of them to eat and talk idly. Elieth was eager to hear stories about Janeway’s adventures through space and Asil fed off of it, eyeing her brother and nodding along with his questions.
Eventually T’Pel came out and Elieth’s attention was immediately on her, asking his mother to sit with them. Asil went inside after asking where Tuvok was and Janeway watched through the glass door as the girl approached her father with the same hesitancy she’d approached her with, wrapping her arms around his leg and looking at the floor.
Tuvok looked steadily down at her then bent to be at eye level with his daughter, speaking to her. Asil nodded once, twice, responded. As she spoke again Janeway couldn’t see her face but she watched her body curl forward and her right hand continually rise up to her face, wiping something away.
Tuvok wrapped his arms around the girl and lifted her, patting her back and pressing his head against hers as he carried her out of sight.
“Are you enjoying yourself, T’sai Janeway?” Asked T’Pel, sitting beside her. She’d cut her hair to her shoulders where Janeway remembered it running down her back.
“Please, call me Kathryn. Or at least just Janeway. We’ve known each other for years.”
T’Pel inclined her head in agreement. “I apologize I could not greet you upon your arrival. I was retrieving my sisters. They become easily distracted.” She glanced at her sister as she passed by.
“T’Pel never becomes distracted on her way to Tuvok.” Her sister commented to the air in front of her.
T’Pel turned away.
Late into the night Tuvok was lying in bed, drifting to sleep. He had been awake for the past few days making preparations, visiting neighbors and talking to T’Pel, an activity that often continued until the early hours of the morning.
His mind was occupied by small thoughts. Of his children and Janeway and their comfort and the next day’s tasks that needed doing.
Outside he could still hear the muffled sounds of conversation and play and above him through the skylight he could see nothing but a patch of black sky, unilluminated by moonlight and dotted with countless stars. It reminded him of Janeway and her emotions. He closed his eyes and turned onto his side, wrapping the blanket around himself so that he was engulfed in its warmth.
He did not know how much time passed before he woke up again but there was no longer any noise from the gathering and T’Pel was in bed beside him, adjusting herself to lie against him. She apologized for waking him telepathically and he assured her it was alright. She wrapped an arm around his stomach and the other slid under his head, acting as a barrier between him and the pillow. Tuvok reached up out of habit and placed his hand against her palm. She squeezed it gently before giving him a chaste Ozh’esta, neither of their fingers in quite the right position for it.
Through their bond information about their days floated back and forth. Annoyances, worries, humorous anecdotes, innermost thoughts that would otherwise remain unexpressed. The conversation with Janeway was mulled over by T’Pel, she held it up and examined it, pausing her own stream of thought to more carefully consider it. She felt Tuvok beginning to fade into sleep.
“Your presence is appreciated.” She told him in a soft voice, careful not to disturb him awake. “And I wish you uninterrupted rest.”
Tuvok did not respond verbally but repeated the sentiment through their bond before vanishing under the black space of the unconscious mind, his thoughts becoming scattered and dull, not entirely his own.
T’Pel stayed pressed against him for a while, enjoying his presence in bed beside her, before getting up and walking across the room, towards the dresser and vanity. From the top drawer she pulled out a box of glazed clay, a floral pattern etched into it by the friend who had gifted it to her, and opened it.
From inside she took out a square wrapped in a piece of peach colored cloth and traced the poorly done etching of the va’maveh bird. The lines were uneven in their pressure, too hesitant to be done by a skilled craftsman, and the resemblance to the bird was tenuous at best. Yet as she looked upon it she was brought back to that day on her parents’ back porch with the strange, formal man who was now a part of her.
“It is a poor etching.” Her friend had told her, handing back the tile. “Would you like me to redo it?”
T’Pel had taken it back and stared at it. A piece of art that Tuvok had made. The man who at that point had seemed utterly miserable in the country, in their shared home. The man who barely spoke to her and seemed reluctant to be spoken to, who gazed wearily out windows and ventured no further than the screened porch without her influence, had seen T’Pel’s enjoyment of the art and the bird and the story and synthesized them all on one square.
“No.” She’d said, wrapping it in the handkerchief Tuvok had given her on one of their first few days together, after they’d been walking to the levi and he’d noticed a smear of dirt on her forehead.
“It is fine as it is.”