Archive of Our Own

“Betazed?” asked Anne. 

Kyle Riker nodded from across the table, sprinkling ketchup over his replicated dinner as he spoke. “That’s right,” he said, “Her name is Lwaxana. We have roots from a couple years back when we worked together on a trade negotiation between our two peoples. Back in my uh… Starfleet days, that was.” 

Anne played with her peas. She’d heard of Betazed, of course. Mysterious, eccentric planet of the half-naked empaths. Her father was often xenophobic, but he’d shown a particular disdain for Betazoids in the past. ‘Never did much, never made anything of themselves’, he’d once said. Anne gave him a long, analyzing look. 

“Dare I ask who’s paying you to work with a Betazoid emissary?” 

Kyle shot her a look that could freeze milk. “I’m doing it out of loyalty to Starfleet. They wanted someone with experience and I offered to help, just like any reasonable man would do.”

Ah, of course. Loyalty to Starfleet. “What are the negotiations?” Anne asked. 

“It’s very complicated, but the gist of it is that Betazed has its eyes on a human colony planet in the vicinity of the Bajoran homeworld. The possibility of trading it is a whole mess that has to do with Starfleet, the Betazoids, the colonists, as well as the Bajorans themselves.” 

“Sounds complicated,” Anne observed.

“Mm, it certainly will be.”

“It would probably be good practice for me if I listened in, wouldn’t you say? Get a hang of diplomacy.”

Kyle cast her a look. Already she knew what the answer was. “Anne, last time I let you ‘listen in’ you almost had us at war with the Klingons. Besides, you’ll have other things to do.”

“Is that right?”

He nodded. “Lwaxana. She has a son, about your age. Technically speaking, he’s one of the princes of Betazed. I won’t have time to play party host, but Lwaxana thinks the world rises and sets for him, and I’m sure she’d be quite insulted if he was ignored. I thought maybe you would be the person to show him around.” 

Anne leaned back in her chair, insulted. “You want me to play servant to a prince while you take care of the actual business, is that it?” 

“I want you to learn diplomacy,” Kyle answered sharply, “And whether you like it or not, this is how you’re going to do it.” 

Anne scowled. She finished her dinner in silence, and as fast as she could, the same way she did every night. 

It was a beautiful summer in Alaska, untouched by terraforming technologies that were offered to so many in this inhospitable climate. Getting through a natural winter made the summer twice as wonderful - That was what Kyle always said. It was one of the very few things he and Anne agreed on. 

Anne left her little wooden home and felt the wind on her face, once again fresh with the scent of flowers and bees, salt in the air wafting over from the docks barely half a mile away. The grass grew tall here, reeds brushing against her hands as she walked. She took in a breath, and let it out again. The girl had turned seventeen about a month ago, and her life was very much the same as it had been. After all, her school was small enough that no one ever changed, and the seasons here, while extreme, were in neat, predictable cycles. And her father certainly never changed. 

Today, it was shorts weather, but she didn’t care for shorts, so she just decided to sweat regardless. She wore an oversized T-shirt and sweatpants, her brown hair cut to just above her shoulders. Anne always considered herself very standard looking, at least for this part of the world - Unimpressive, if she had to pick a word. All she had going for her was her height. Six feet tall, and according to the doctors, still growing. If she had to choose, it was her favorite thing about herself. 

She walked out to the docks, sat down, and stared at the sea. A Betazed prince… Well, at least he would be an interesting character. Anne had never met a Betazoid, certainly not a member of their royalty, and she couldn’t help but wonder if the outrageous rumors that circulated her school during her exo-culture lessons were true. Talk of wigs with creatures inside, all-naked parties, and dresses made of thinly cut stone were just the beginnings of what she’d heard of them. But of course, all that was icing on the cake. More fascinating than that - Telepaths. So this prince would come and read her mind, was that it? She wasn’t sure how she felt about that - It forced her to wonder how Kyle got anything done with the Betazeds. Surely they felt his contempt? Surely they knew what a prick he was?

Anne threw a rock into the waves. No point in asking questions, she decided. Tomorrow, she’d find out. 

In the early morning on Friday, the small town of Bethel, Alaska was possessed with the sound of a deep rumbling, one that blew away the grass and left the trees quaking. For, near the center of a town, landed a spaceship. It was a beautiful thing, deep violet in purple and made of a metal that sparkled in the sunlight. The windows were all lined with gold and the engines were sleek and subtle, glowing with a gentle blue energy. With a low groan and a sigh the ship landed on the long, rich planes of Kyle Riker’s property. He stood before the ship, in his Starfleet uniform. Anne stood beside him, in her best button-down shirt and pair of slacks. 

With a hiss and a flood of steam, the door to the ship opened. The first thing Anne noticed was the smell that came from it - rich and fruity, an almost saccharine sweetness. The second thing she noticed (as she was hard to miss) was Lwaxana Troi herself.

The great heiress wore a sea green ballgown, one with a long train behind her and piles and piles of ruffles gracefully laid out about her shoulders. Silver and precious garnet hung heavy on her neck, and her hair, firetruck red, was piled on top of itself over and over, so high Anne doubted she’d get through the door. She had a sweet face, and those very distinctive all black Betazoid irises. The moment she was out the door, she grinned. “Kyle Riker!” she said affectionately, and took his hand. “It has been too long! Look at us, neither of us have aged a day, have we?”

Kyle cast her a smile, though not the one, Anne noticed, he used when he wanted to charm someone. If anything, he looked uncomfortable. “Can’t say we have,” he said, “It’s a pleasure to see you again Lwaxana. Allow me to introduce my daughter, Anne. Anne, this is Lwaxana Troi, Daughter of the Fifth House, Holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, and-”  

“Heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed!” Lwaxana finished, only just then noticing her, “A pleasure to meet you Anne, and a beautiful daughter you are, too! Tell me, Anne, do you plan to follow in your father’s footsteps with some sort of… emissarial job in Starfleet?”

Dislike for Lwaxana went through Anne like a shot. Hell no I won’t follow that bastard, and don’t call me beautiful, she wanted to say, but she didn’t. Instead, she smiled diplomatically. “Well, I… certainly do hope to have a future in Starfleet.” Lwaxana raised her eyebrows at her for a moment and it was then that Anne remembered - A telepath, of course. Her cheeks went red with embarrassment. Sheepishly, she added, “Thank you for, erm, asking.” 

The Betazed smiled with immediate forgiveness. “Oh, and thank you for the answer, Ms. Riker,” she said, immediately changing her words. No more ‘beautiful’. Anne’s anger lost its edge. “And Starfleet has quite a few different directions, all of them very respectable! Best not to be too much like your father, anyway. I have yet to see this old man let loose and have a little fun!”

Kyle chuckled. “I… I have my moments,” he confessed. 

“I’m sure you do,” Lwaxana said condesdengingly, “Now, if you’d allow me, I’d like you to meet my son. Kyle Riker, Anne Riker, may I present Devoni Troi, Son of the Fifth House, and Sub-Heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed.” 

And then, out from the ship, stepped a man. He had black curly hair that hung around his face and went just to his chin, and he was dressed in a magnificent red sash that went over his chest to a clasp of gold on his shoulder, all over a loose white suit underneath. His hands were encased in silk white gloves, his eyelashes full with dark, Betazed eyes. There was a genetic resemblance to his mother, and yet, he looked quite different. Where Lwaxana was bold and eccentric, the Prince seemed reserved. As he stepped out, he only smiled, polite, but unreadable. “It is an honor to meet you both,” he said in a light, and airy voice with a soft, almost European-sounding accent. 

Anne very suddenly found she wasn’t so upset about being left out of the meeting.

Kyle nodded. “Likewise, your majesty,” he said, “This is my daughter, Anne, she’ll be showing you around while your mother and I discuss politics. I hope that’s alright.”

He smiled. “More than alright, it sounds wonderful,” he said sweetly. His dark eyes turned to Anne, and she found herself sweating under his gaze. Was he reading her thoughts now? Would she feel it when he did? 

Kyle clapped Anne on the back. “Anne, why don’t you show her around the property while me and Lwaxana head inside?”

Silently, Anne nodded, and stepped away from him. In a moment Lwaxana took hold of Kyle’s bicep and began, “So, Kyle, before we get to business you simply must tell me how you came by a house like this,” as she walked back towards the log cabin. It took a few seconds of watching them go before Anne remembered that she was alone with the Prince. She turned to him, tucking her hands in her pockets. 

“So,” she began, rocking on her heels, “I imagine you’d like me to show you around?” 

“Yes, thank you,” he answered politely. Anne nodded, and began the tour around the property. She supposed, since they were closest, she’d begin with the docks and then loop back around to see the more forested side and the abandoned barn, and then, lastly, return to the house. By then, she hoped perhaps she’d be able to show him the house itself, or at least his room, depending on how long the negotiations took. She began through the grass, following the smell of the sea. “I have not yet been to this part of the planet,” said the Prince, “It is very beautiful.”

She smiled back at him. “Is it?” she asked. 

“You don’t think so?”

Anne cast him a knowing look. “Do you already know the answer?”

He looked back at her, surprised. But in the end, the look of the caught-off-guard royal vanished in favor of a smile, and Anne sighed with relief. “Maybe,” he said, looking forward once again, and walking ahead. 

Anne paused for a moment, watching him go. Then, she grinned. There was his mother’s influence - The Prince had a playful side after all. Feeling like she’d passed some sort of test, Anne ran forward to catch up with him. “So you are reading my mind. I wasn’t sure how to ask. I don’t suppose you can tell me what I’m thinking about right now?”

“Not what you’re thinking about. Only what you’re feeling.”

“I thought the Betazed were telepaths.”

“They are,” he answered, “I’m half human.”

Anne’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?” she asked, “I… didn’t know.”

Devoni smiled in a way that made it clear he’d gotten that reaction many times. “Most people don’t,” he said, “It’s alright. My mother, as you know, is Betazed, but my father was human.”

Continuing to tromp through the grass, Anne looked down. “Huh,” she said, “I guess I can save you the… long explanation of humanity, then?”

He laughed. She grinned. 

“Well, I would certainly hate to see it wasted.”

“Aw, I… didn’t have anything planned,” Anne answered, “Honestly, I was just gonna show you the docks. Though, I’m sure you’ve seen much more interesting than this… little corner of nowhere. Being a prince and all.”

“On the contrary. I think the simplicity here is quite beautiful,” he said, and sounded genuine. 

“Well… Thank you,” said Anne with a smirk. Then, she went on, “Can I ask something stupid?”

“Yes.”

“Do you live in a palace?”

“Yes.”

Her head flicked up. “Wow,” she said, “Now that’s incredible. Living the high life.” She tucked her hands in her pockets, trying to picture it. 

Devoni grinned, embarrassed. “It is certainly opulent,” he admitted, “Even still, it is nice to get out for trips like this. My mother is always encouraging me to speak to people my own age, but I find many of the ladies on Betazed to be… a bit…” 

“Snooty? Pretentious?” Anne offered with a shrug.

“I was going to say over-accommodating,” he said through a giggle. 

“Oh,” she answered, “To Hell with you then, you’ll sleep on the floor.”

Devoni looked over his shoulder at her. “Could this be some bizarre attempt to court me, Ms. Riker?”

Her heart skipping a beat, Anne breezed over the question. She hurried up ahead of her, marching up the hill to the docks. “Please,” she said, “It’s just Anne.”

With a long sigh, Anne laid her head down in the grass. “Oh, you should have seen him, Ron,” she sighed dreamily, “I mean he was… so down to Earth! I could barely believe he was a prince, he had such a good sense of humor! Great smile too. Oh, you would have loved him!”

Her friend Ron, beside her, gave her a strange look. Ron was the closest thing to a friend Anne had. Geographically speaking, making friends here wasn’t easy - Really the only thing that made him friendship material was that he could reasonably walk to her house without freezing to death or collapsing of exhaustion first. He was a blonde, scrawny thing, a good deal shorter than Anne, with freckles all across his face. Thinking, he picked up a stick and chucked it down the hill. “That’s cool,” he said, discomfort in his voice,

“He sounds like a uh… Cool guy.”

“That’s just the thing, he was cool! I mean, I thought he was gonna be out of touch or something. You know, being a prince and all that!” Anne enthused, sitting up quickly. “I think I’m gonna talk to him again tomorrow. Maybe take him down to the docks for a while, if he’s interested. “

“Aren’t you-” Ron said suddenly, then stopped.

Anne creased her eyebrows. “What?”

“A lesbian?”

The words shot through her like glass. Suddenly she felt horribly embarrassed, red faced like her pants had fallen down in front of a crowd, and she couldn’t explain why. She sprung up out of the grass. “Who said I wasn’t?!” she snapped. 

“I-I mean it’s fine if you’re not, I don’t care, I’m just surprised! I’ve just never heard you fawn over a boy before, that’s all it is!” he stumbled, standing up in turn.

“I’m not fawning over him!” Anne stepped closer, shoving a finger in his face, “You’re saying you think I’m some kind of princess, is that it?!”

Softly, Ron answered, “Anne, I didn’t say anything.”

She stopped, and stepped back. It was true, after all. Not only had he not said anything, he didn’t even insinuate it - All he had done was shown reasonable confusion when she did something… well, straight. The word alone made her sick to her stomach. The woman to a man. Some dainty things held like porcelain in arms of rippling muscles. It made her sick, it always had. That’s why she was what she was: a lesbian. Always.

Anne took a breath and then stood as tall as she could. The sun was behind her and she looked at her shadow, feeling every inch of her impressive height. She felt its power and, dare she say it, its masculinity, as she towered over her friend. “Look, I’m sorry,” she said, and meant it, “I didn’t mean to yell. I just meant to say that I think Devoni and I are going to make really good friends… but that’s all! I’m sure he’ll make some other girl feel special but I could never see him that way.” 

Ron nodded, still looking a bit stunned from her outburst. “Okay,” he said with a shrug, “Yeah, I feel you, he seems like a really cool guy.”

She sat back down on the hill, and began to pick at the grass. Frustrated, she answered, “Yeah,” and they fell into silence. 

The ship of Lwaxana and Devoni Troi was just as ostentatious and beautiful as their kingdom back home. It was full of thick air that smelled like incense and tropical fruit, gold and gemstones on all the walls and surfaces. Lwaxana’s room was the most decorated of all, with glorious chaises covered in the smoothest silk sheets in the quadrant. Embroidered curtains, stunning hardwood closets to hold her magnificent wardrobe, a bed with curtains and a canopy on top and, perhaps most stunning of all, a violet vanity, covered in precious gems and silver. Dressed to the nines she sat at it now, taking out her giant earrings and beginning the arduous process of removing her makeup. Behind her stood her son, who was beginning to wind down towards bed as well, having removed his silk gloves, jacket, and shoes. Lwaxana spoke to him straight into his mind, forgoing the use of her lips in the presence of another Betazed. 

“That Kyle Riker is such a gentleman!” she thought, “It’s a wonder he’s not married!”

“Don’t tell me you’ll try to marry him,” thought Devoni, only half-jokingly.

Lwaxana laughed silently, and shook her head. “Goodness no, my dear. I must have a man who dotes on me! Kyle Riker is courteous, certainly, but… that’s about it. When he’s on his knees begging for me to come back so he can sweep me off my feet… Well, then, maybe I’ll consider it.”

Devoni looked down, and grinned. “Good luck with that, mother,” he thought. 

She glanced at him over her shoulder, then began to wipe away her vibrant eyeshadow “Enough about me, my dear boy. How were things with you and that… darling little farmgirl Annie?”

“It’s not Annie, mother, it’s just Anne.” 

“Ah, yes, yes, Anne, of course,” she answered dismissively, “Tell me, do you two get along well?”

Devoni grimaced. From anyone else, he’d assume it was a friendly conversational topic, a slightly more specific way to ask about his day. But he’d known his mother too long not to know her ulterior motives. He told her cautiously, and said little, wandering over to the window and peering at the dark field below. “I like her,” he admitted eventually,

“She is very… exuberant.”

“Oh! Exuberance is good in a lady. Who wants some dull, unimpressed thing?”

“Mother, I never said I wanted her!” he scolded.

“A turn of phrase, my dear little chickadee!” she argued with a shrug, as she began to wipe off her lipstick, “Though you could do a lot worse.” 

Devoni rolled his eyes. “Mother!”

“I am only looking out for you! You’re not a little boy anymore, Devoni, and there’s plenty of very beautiful women to be found. Now I of all people understand not wanting to marry a Betazed, so if you like this human girl, perhaps you should court her! She’d make a beautiful princess!” 

He scowled, turning away from her and looking more fiercely out the window as he held his arms around himself. Suddenly he spoke aloud, shattering the silence in the room like glass. “Oh, mother, why does everything have to be marriage with you?! Can’t I just make a friend?!”

Lwaxana did a double take to look at her son, as though noticing his distress for the first time. She sighed. “Oh, my little chickadee,” she sighed aloud, and stood up from her vanity. She walked over to Devoni, taking him by the shoulders. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to speak on it so much. I forget sometimes you’re still so young! Not to worry, my dear boy. When you feel ready, you’re going to get any lady your heart desires! After all, you are the most handsome gentleman on all of Betazed!” She gave him a sweet, encouraging smile and squeezed his shoulder.

Devoni felt a coldness in his chest. It was a sweet compliment, one that came right from a mother’s heart. So why didn’t it feel like it? He forced a smile, and whispered, “Thank you, mother.”

She cocked her head lovingly, and rubbed his arm. “What’s wrong, my little one? I feel such sadness within you! It can’t be that you think this girl wouldn’t want you back? Because she couldn’t ask for better!”

He laughed weakly. “I’m alright, mother,” he lied, “I think I just need some sleep.” 

Shrugging his mother’s hand off his shoulder, he slipped out of her room, and back into his own. In earnest, he wasn’t certain where the pain stemmed from. Did he think that Anne would never love him back? Was he in love with her to begin with? He found, after some consideration, that the answers to those questions that mattered, that really bothered him, weren’t ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Instead it was another question.

Rather, if she did love him, he thought, and if he loved her back, would everything be the way it was supposed to be? Would love finally feel good?

And the answer to that was no. No, a thousand times over. 

As a matter of business, Anne was to join Lwaxana and Devoni Troi for a formal dinner. Of course, no dinner at her own house ever really felt formal. She was used to replicated meals and sad conversation, sitting in silence across from her tortuously disinterested father before she hurried off to her room. But now, she supposed, he had to put in some effort. A tablecloth had been laid out (which already made this a bigger event than Christmas) with the best silverware and the only non-plastic plates. He had made (or should she say, replicated) meatloaf, peas, and mashed potatoes as an example of a ‘traditional Earth meal of his culture’. Devoni and Lwaxana joined them, dressed to the nines. Despite the formality, Kyle insisted that the dinner was purely social. A “political gesture of friendliness,” he called it. That was the only real reason Anne could join them.

The mood at the dinner was tensely quiet. Kyle cut off a piece of his meatloaf. “So, Lwaxana, I never asked,” he began, “Have you spent much time on Earth before this?”
She laughed a fluttering laugh at that. “Ha! I’ll have you know, Mr. Riker, when you marry a human Earth becomes your second home. I remember when he used to take me down to the lake, we always used to love it there…” and with that, she was already off. While she kept focus with Kyle, Anne, right beside him, gazed at Devoni across the table. He paused from his silent and refined eating to look up at her. 

Anne glanced at Troi, and then back at Lwaxana. A playful smile toyed at her lips. 

Devoni answered with a delicate use of his napkin to cover a smile of his own. He shrugged. 

“Yes, well, that certainly sounds nice,” Kyle was saying, “It reminds me of my wife and I. She and I used to spend a lot of time by the water…”

With another glance towards the adults, Anne grinned again, and then, ever so slowly, slid her foot forward under the table. When at last it brushed against the side of Devoni’s shoe, she froze still, holding the touch. Despite now leaning far back in her seat, she attempted to look casual, taking a bite of mashed potatoes. Devoni eyed her. Almost offended, he took a step away from her.

She moved her foot to touch his again.

He bit his cheek to keep from laughing, and moved his foot away. 

“Oh, really?” asked Lwaxana, “Say, did you ever go up to Pinnequot? It’s one of my favorite towns.”

Anne looked at her father again. When she was certain his attention was on Lwaxana, she scooted forward in her chair and picked up her fork. She held it horizontally and placed upon the prongs a single pea. Devoni, seeing this, widened his eyes. He gave a sharp look and shook his head. Anne nodded. Devoni had to bite his lip to hold back a smile, but again, more insistently, he shook his head. 

“Oh, I absolutely think so,” said Kyle, “No doubt in my mind it’s the best place for it.”

With another eager nod, Anne grinned. As Devoni covered his mouth to stifle a laugh, she held the back of her fork with one finger, and launched the pea square at his head. 

“Well, I can’t say I agree that…” Lwaxana stopped, looking up at Anne, and she instantly went white. Devoni froze, looking down at his lap and sitting up straight. Kyle cast a look at her, confused.

“Something the matter, Lwaxana?” 

The pause that followed was excruciatingly long, but at the end of it, Lwaxana answered, “Sorry just… saw a strange bird outside the window that must have caught my attention! Anyway, don’t let me interrupt you, go on with your fabulous story!” 

He gazed at her, confused for a moment before answering, “Well, as I was saying, I can see where you’re coming from, but…”
As he rambled on, Lwaxana, almost imperceptibly, cast a wink at Anne across the table. She grinned with delight. 

By that evening, Anne and Devoni found the scene hopelessly amusing, still laughing about it as they walked down to the docks. Though, Anne laughed less loudly than usual. She was more focused, after all, on hearing that delightful, sweet little laugh of Devoni’s. 

“You really are bizarre, Anne,” he said, shaking his head, “If your father had caught you-”

“He would have dipped me in sugar and made me dessert!” she offered for him.

“So why did you bother throwing peas at me like we were children?”

She grinned, as always walking slightly ahead, with her hands in her pockets. “I thought you knew what was in my head. You’re very conservative with your empathic abilities, you know.”

Devoni laughed. “Do you want me in your head, Anne Riker?”

“Well, I’ve never been good with words, thought it might make things easier,” she joked, “Besides. Maybe then I would get to know a little of what’s in your head.”

“Are you asking?”

“Maybe.”

He smiled, and rolled his eyes. “I can tell you’re eager to impress me. And that you’re betting on the fact that I find you charming instead of idiotic.”

“Do you?”

He shot her a wry smile, walking up ahead of her as they began to smell the sea water in the distance. “Sometimes.” 

When they got to the dock, Devoni wandered out along the wooden planks, making his way closer to the sea. The wind blew through his light curls and he smiled, his eyes shutting gently. The sun was arching down towards the horizon, and had turned as rich and gold as honey poured out across the wine-dark sea. Behind them, stars began to flicker awake, the moon still shy and pale in the face of the orange sun. When she saw him that way, illuminated by the sunset and brushed by the breeze, Anne rushed down to the beach, jumping down from the dock down into the sand. The dock was as high as her chest. 

“What are you doing?” Devoni asked her, creasing his eyebrows. 

“Taking advantage of a good balcony, and a good sunset,” she said charmingly. “Seems only right, doesn’t it? You can’t have two people on a balcony, it’s unbecoming.”

“What on Earth are you going on about?” he laughed. 

Anne grinned, laying her arms on the dock. Frankly, she wasn’t sure what she meant. She just wanted to see Devoni from a distance, from an angle below him. Somehow Anne felt he wasn’t meant to be viewed at eye level, at least not all the time. Standing below him like this, watching his dramatic profile as he turned out to the sea, it was very easy to remember he was a prince. Nevertheless, that answer wouldn’t do, even if the empath Devoni already knew it. “Well… It’s a bit Romeo and Juliet, isn’t it?” she asked. The moment she said it, her heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t meant to be so direct about it, but there it was, out of her lips now. Devoni smiled, still confused. 

“Romeo and Juliet, hm?” he laughed, “I suppose you’re a real Will Shakespeare?”

All of the sudden a grin hit her like a train, fluttering joy bursting from her gut and running up into her chest. “Yeah,” she said, smiling stupidly, “Yeah, I’m Will Shakespeare! And tonight… that makes you Anne Hathaway, doesn’t it? Funny how that happens. Look at that, we’ve switched.”

“Oh, I’m Anne, am I?”

“Yeah, you are. You’re Anne and I’m Will.”

“Not Romeo and Juliet?”

“Didn’t you read the play?” she asked playfully, “They both died tragically, remember? I’d say we deserve a little better than that.”

Devoni laughed. He got down onto his knees so as to be closer to her face, placing both his hands on the ground beside him. “Tell me, Anne-”

“Will!”

“Tell me, Will, ” he corrected with a wry grin, “Do you always make so little sense?”

Anne shook her head, taking her arms off the dock and taking a half step away to look at the sea. She touched her chest, reeling at what they felt. They knew love when it hit them, but it wasn’t just for Devoni. She found, standing there, beseeching him from the bottom of a balcony, calling herself ‘Will’, there was love for herself there, too. The smile started to flicker from her face, the seriousness beginning to come over her. “You know something, Anne?” she said, “I think it makes a lot of sense. I think everything makes sense, I think it makes more sense than it has in the past ten years.” Then she smiled, embarrassed, and went on, “Then again, maybe I don’t make any sense at all. It’s getting cold, do you want to head back?” 

Devoni looked at her. Despite his efforts to stay out of her head, her thoughts were like a melody, too familiar to ignore. And while the chatter was stupid, the thought was deep, memories of her life like exhibits in a museum rushing through her head. Following a pattern, one that she was putting together. And she was afraid, and she was overjoyed, and she was already mourning, because that’s what happens when you change. She was changing. Devoni stared at her and he was afraid, and in truth, he already knew why. That girl was a mirror in reverse, and soon, the sweet monster that would soon finish off Anne Riker would tear out the throat of Devoni Troi. And who would be left in his place? In her place? Anne and Devoni. Will and Anne. 

“Devoni?” Anne asked. Will asked. Devoni smiled, and looked down. 

“Sorry. I was just enjoying the weather. But you’re right, I think we’d better head back before it gets dark,” he said, back straight, voice steady, “Thank you for taking a walk with me.”

Anne noticed his sudden change of demeanor, and looked up at him, startled. Nevertheless, all she said was, “Of course,” and the two walked silently back. 

That night Anne lay face up in bed, letting it all fall over her. When she got home, she stood in front of the mirror in that traditional pose of uncertainty, her right hand bunching up her hair and holding it behind her head, her left arm over the front of her chest pressing her breasts as flat as she could get them. How she scrambled for masculinity like someone would take it away from her. That clawing for manhood was so desperate, the locks of hair slipping from between her fingers, the flesh of her chest spilling out over the painful crushing of her arm, her talons dug into the side of her breast as if to rip it off. And it wasn’t the first time. How many times had she found herself in that pose, insisting she was just curious? That it was just fun, just exploration, just drag? What a joke. Anne was the drag. And every moment she was called a nice young lady or nodded at contemptuously by some straight highschool football player she was reminded once again that she was onstage under the spotlight like a pig in a dress, ready to piss herself from stagefright. Anne Riker was a running gag. Anne Riker was a fucking joke. 

To fight off the tears in her eyes, she leapt up from her bed and found herself in front of the mirror again. The girl was there again. Strange girl she was in that she didn’t mind that she wasn’t pretty, wasn’t dainty, wasn’t short, wouldn’t fit in the crook of a man’s arm like the other girls did. Yet, her height and demeanor were nearly all there was to love. In the mirror was an awkward teenage girl, with a thin face and a greasy, dorky haircut, painfully uncomfortable in her skin and all the world could see it. Anne shut her eyes. Where was that boy? The one she had seen, for a moment, with his foot in the sand, his body tilted out towards the sea. He was washed with sunlight, puffing out his chest, firm hand against the side of the dock, sensitive eyes and perfect lips. Where was that boy? She’d seen him for a moment. She’d been him for a moment. 

“Anne?” 

With the voice of her father, any sign of him was gone. After a moment, she let out a breath, and answered, “Coming!”

She hurried down the stairs, where she found her father in the kitchen in his casual dress, ready for bed, a book in his hand. “I hope I didn’t wake you,” he said, but she doubted he meant it, “I just wanted to let you know that we’re gonna be dining with the Trois one more time a bit more formally tomorrow, before they leave. I don’t know if you plan your clothes the night before, but wear something nice, please.” 

“Tomorrow?!” she demanded, “I thought they were staying for a half a week, at least! It’s only been a day!”

“Half a week was an estimate! Fortunately Lwaxana is a very effective spokesperson, so we have little more to discuss. We plan to finish up tomorrow and let them get home in the evening.”

Anne stayed perfectly still. One more day?! She didn’t know what was going to happen between them, but whatever it was, there was no way it would happen in one day! “I see,” was all she said. 

Kyle creased his eyebrows, confused. “Well, is that a problem?” 

She forced a smile. “No,” she said, “Of course not. Goodnight, Dad. Sleep well,” and she went back to her room. 

But it was a problem. It meant that whatever she was planning on ruminating on and piecing together properly before she spoke to Devoni, she no longer had the time. She had to tell him now. Not that she knew what ‘it’ was. ‘It’ was the ephemeral concept, the combination of feelings she wanted to find some beautiful way to explain to him. But now she was out of time. She’d have to blather on as best she could and hope that Devoni really was an empath. 

She snuck to the spaceship late that night, still glowing a soft blue in the starry night. Anne ran out to the side of it and peered through the windows, but they were all black. She tried to remember what she knew of spaceships - control in the front, engineering below, housing up top and in the back. At least, that was how most species did it, but there were always exceptions, and she knew very little about Betazed spaceship design. And either way, there was no way to know where his room was. But the ship was small. Maybe she’d have good luck. Her heart racing, she bent down and picked up a pebble off the ground. She leaned back, aimed for one of the windows, and threw it. Then, she waited. 

After a moment, the black window slid open, a cloud of incense rushing out into the night. And standing there, elevated once again, was Devoni. “Anne?” he asked, creasing his eyebrows, “What are you- What is this?” 

“I had to see you!” she shouted, “You’re leaving tomorrow!”

“I know. Is that a problem?” 

“It is a problem?!” she demanded in return. “Well… You and I, we were… I mean, we had… Devoni, we have something!” she declared boldly. She let the words hang in the air for a few moments, listening to the crickets singing around her. When she determined there was nothing more to say, she begged again, softly, “Devoni, let me up, I need to talk to you.”

Devoni looked down. “Anne, it sounds like you’ve said plenty.” 

“No, I haven’t!” she said, taking a step forward, “Please.” 

He stared down at her. Then, after a long sigh, he nodded. 

Devoni quietly opened the front doors of the ship, subverting the announcement through the ship in order to keep his mother and the pilot sleeping. The two snuck up into his room, a stunning, palace-like place decked out in purple throw pillows and a cloud of floral incense. Across the wall were pictures of home. Some of Betazed, some of Earth, and many of Lwaxana with a man Anne didn’t recognize. When she was in his room, Devoni wandered over to the window, standing a cold distance away from her. “Well?” he asked, “What’s so important that you wanted to tell me?”

Anne froze. She didn’t know. “I… last night, I…” She sighed. “Listen. When you and I were out there, for a moment I… There under the balcony… I-I don’t know how to say it.”

“I can hardly say it for you,” he answered icily. 

She straightened her back, staring him down. “I know what you’re angry about,” she said firmly, “I-I know what you’re scared of! I’m scared of it!”

Crossing his arms, he scoffed. “Please. Scared? I could hardly say that. I’m… irritated, perhaps, that you’ve bothered me in the middle of the night, but what is there to be scared of?”
“That night on the dock! Of the way it felt! Of Anne Hathaway, and Will Shakespeare! That’s what you’re scared of!” she declared. 

“You’re being nonsensical.” He turned back and faced the window, showing her his back. 

“I’m not!” she answered. She took a step up to him and stood just beside him, so he had to watch her, out of the corner of his eye, at least. Anne took a breath, and spoke as frankly as she could manage. “Devoni, when I’m with you… I’m… more me … Than I’ve ever been in my entire life.” When she spoke, she found her voice was shaking, her shoulders tight. “When you look at me… You see right to the person that… that I wish I was. That I could be. Do you understand?” 

Without considering it, he shook his head. “I wish I could.”

“I think you do,” Anne argued, leaning even closer. She looked hard into his eyes, calling him to look back. “Devoni, when you look at me, what do you feel? Empathically, what do you see in me?” 

He sighed, and then turned to face her. “I see someone who is… emotional, and confused. Someone who is… frustrated, and who is largely ruled by passion and attraction.”

“That’s an analysis. I asked you what you saw.”

“A… highschool student? A potential Starfleet officer? What would you have me say?”

“The truth!” She took him by the shoulders, heart racing, turning him towards her, “Simpler than that, more basic! The first thing you see! The first thing you notice on anyone! I need to know and then I promise I’ll leave you alone for as long as you want.”

A slow dread filled his eyes, his shoulders slumping in Anne’s grasp. “I know what you want me to say,” he whispered. 

Anne swallowed. Her heart beat in her chest like a kettle drum. “And?” she whispered. 

Devoni looked up at him with those night black eyes, and in a hushed voice he told her, “When I see you, I see a very kind, very loving young man.” 

Anne stumbled back as though hit with a strong wind. She let out the breath she’d been holding in, looking down at the floor and taking it all in. “Thank you,” she tried to say, but it barely came out. There were tears in her eyes, so she quickly looked away. “Then you do understand.”

He looked at her, tired. “Yes,” he whispered. 

She stepped back up to him, shaking her head in quiet awe. “You’re beautiful,” she said.

“Don’t say that,” Devoni begged. 

“You are,” Anne persisted, “I’ll say it again. As many times as you need, you’re beautiful. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever-”

“Don’t say that, please, don’t say that!” Devoni insisted, and hurried over to the bed. He sat down onto it, a gentle hand covering his mouth. With a tearful gasp, he buried his head in his hands. 

In Devoni’s silence, Anne spoke gently. “You can read my mind,” she reminded him, “You know that I’m not lying.” The silence drew on, and Anne walked over, and sat down beside him. “Come to the docks with me,” she suggested. 

“What for?” Devoni asked miserably. 

“I want you to see her for yourself.” He looked up at her tenderly, tear smudges around his eyes. Anne gently offered her hand. Devoni swallowed, looked at her, then took it.

The two of them went back to the dock. The night was pitch dark, though the stars in Alaska were more like a painting in real life, and the radiance of the stars guided them both out to the beating black sea, to the smell of salt that rustled through their hair. And this time, Juliet did not call for Romeo. The classic play was silent. Devoni wandered across the dock and stared out at the sea, tilting up his chin and lowering his shoulders in effervescent nightly beauty, then shyly turned down and scanned the sand below for his lover. Anne, in turn, jumped noiselessly from the dock onto the sand and approached, and beheld, and soaked in the sight of her lover lit by starlight. There, by that sea, on that shore, what was once a prison became a ritual, a dance like that of two birds circling each other in the sky. And under the moonlight, Anne Riker and Devoni Troi died, not killed by the monster but taken by the night, a temporary death, a beautiful death, swept out to sea and held in the darkness’ arms. In their place were Romeo and Juliet. Will Shakespeare and Anne Hathaway. 

He leaned up from the sand and cupped her face. And then, he kissed her, as all good men do to good women, as all good stories begin and end. 

The two of them, knowing how soon Devoni would leave, couldn’t bear to separate, so they spent the night together watching the stars. When the sun began to rise they both shared a mutual panic and hurried back to their parents. That said, Will could sneak in the window - Devoni could not. And Lwaxana, upon noticing she’d snuck out, was quite displeased. As Devoni hurried back to sneak into her room, Lwaxana caught her in the hallway, still in her painfully decadent pajamas. “Well!” she announced, “Look who’s done me the privilege of sneaking back after sneaking out!” 

Devoni froze in her tracks, and winced. “Mother… I can explain,” she began.

“Oh, no, don’t bother! You’re a grown man, after all, you can go anywhere you want! Don’t let your poor old mother stop you from creeping about, oh no!” She threw up her hands and then turned away from her passive aggressively, and Devoni rolled her eyes. 

“Mother! I apologize, alright? It was just that Anne wanted to speak to me and-”

Her demeanor changed in an instant, and she spun around on her heel. “Anne, you say?” she asked, her face lighting up. Dammit. Devoni should have known better than to bring that up. “Well, why didn’t you say so!” Lwaxana gushed, “Tell me everything, how did it go! Will we need to arrange a chauffeur to Betazed?”

“It was nothing like that, mother! We just talked!” 

“Well, who’s to say you did any more than that, not me!” she demanded defensively, “Talking is the pinnacle of romance, dear boy. You learn that when you’re older, but it seems you’ve learned it young!”

She rolled her eyes, but smiled. “Mother, can I ask you something?” she asked. 

“Of course, my dear, anytime?”

“What would you have named me if I was a girl?” 

Lwaxana creased her eyebrows, putting a finger to her chin. “Oh, my, it’s been a long time since I thought of that… I believe… Oh, yes, your father and I agreed on ‘Deanna’, didn’t we? It was an Earth name with Betazed regality, that’s why we both liked it.” Devoni smiled. Deanna. That was beautiful. Her mother looked back up at her. “Why do you ask?”

“Just a passing curiosity. We were discussing what we’d be named if we were the opposite sex last night and I wasn’t sure what to tell Anne.”

“Oh! Always an interesting conversation! I could have been Relzed , you know, how dreadful!” she said, and preened her hair, “Thank goodness for my womanhood! Suits me better anyway! What was Anne’s possible name, then, hm? What dashing young man could have been?”

Deanna smiled sweetly. “Will,” she said, and she liked the way it felt in her mouth. 

“Will,” Lwaxana repeated, “A handsome name!”

She nodded. “Yes, it is,” she answered firmly. She left it at that, and before her mother could question her, she went back to her room. 

And that morning, while Kyle Riker shaved his face, Will chatted with him leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom. 

“So,” Kyle said, “Can’t help but notice you and that prince spent quite a lot of time together while he was here. I don’t suppose you’ve changed your mind about girls?”
Will scowled. Very, very far from it. “Don’t ask so hopefully,” he said bitterly.

“It was just a question, Anne! You know, kids go through phases! And it’s fine if they last, and it’s fine if they don’t! I was just curious if you liked this boy, is all.” 

He opened his mouth to respond, before considering how very complicated the answer would have to be to be true. The fact was he did still like girls, and the so called prince was one, and he wasn’t. But how could he say all that? Perhaps it was better to lie. After all, if Kyle knew, he wouldn’t see a man, he’d see even more of the classic image of a Starfleet officer. Oh, yes, he thought bitterly, he was sure he’d be thrilled. Now there’d be no reason he should be slower than the other boys, dumber than the other boys. His father’s antiquated sexism was the only thing keeping him away from burnout, and soon, it’d have to be gone. Then again. At least he wouldn’t have to hear about how he looked so much like his mother anymore. 

But that didn’t answer the question of what to say. After a while, he landed on the truth. Or, some version of it. “Yeah, I do,” he admitted. His voice, he found, was much more sorrowful than he thought it’d be.

Startled by his intensity, Kyle looked up. He sighed, and washed the last of the shaving cream off his face. “Well,” he said, “It’s a shame he has to go. But Lwaxana may come around again, and of course, there’s a lot of men out there, I’m sure you’ll find someone like him someday.” 

Will laughed sadly, and shook his head. “Dad, I can tell you with confidence that… There are no men like Devoni.” He stayed, only for a moment, to stare at the floor. But his father had nothing to say. He never did. So, Will left him alone. 

Lwaxana and Kyle finished up the negotiations that night, and Deanna and Will were, once again, side by side. It was strange, walking through that same tall grass as brand new people than the ones they were the day before. Well, the same people renewed, Will supposed. But not entirely new. 

“Where are you headed after this?” Will asked her. 

She took in a long breath, and then let it out, her hands in her pockets. “Home, I imagine. Back to Betazed. This may surprise you but I don’t travel all that much, I spend most of my time at home.” She looked down at the grass. “And you, Will?”

His heart fluttered when she said his name. “Ah,” he sighed with a smile, “Where would I go? Soon enough I’ll be joining Starfleet.”

“Starfleet! That’s exciting!” she said, “And yet, I can’t help but notice you don’t have the normal enthusiasm of a Starfleet officer.”

He shrugged. “It’s the future that I’ve had since the day I was born.” Then, he smiled and said, “Most people find being a prince exciting, too.”

She smiled. “I see your point,” she said with a nod. “What would you be? You know. If you could do anything?” 

Scanning the horizon, Will raised his eyebrows and sighed. “Hard to say,” he admitted, “I think I’d go in for a family life. Forget about career for a while. Something domestic. A chef, maybe. An office jockey. Anything to pay the bills.”

“A family man,” she mused with a smile.

“Yeah. I like that. And you?” 

She let out a long sigh. “Hard to say,” she said, “Perhaps I’d get a new start, away from all this… regality. I’ve wanted to get in touch with my human roots for a long time. Maybe become someone who works with people.” 

“You’d be good at that,” he assured her, “You have a good presence.”

“Thank you, Will…” 

Then the two of them stopped in the tall grass, and he turned to face her. “I… didn’t expect you to go so soon. Or to like you so much, for that matter, I… I have nothing to give you to remember me by.”

“I couldn’t forget,” she said quickly. “On Betazed, there’s a tradition of leaving a lover with your name, either embroidered or tattooed, something like that. I’ve always found it a bit pretentious, but, under the circumstances, it seems somewhat fitting, don’t you think?”

He smiled. “Well, I hardly have an embroidery kit ready,” he admitted. “But… here.” He reached into his pocket and fished out a ballpoint pen. “It’s not much for a princess.”

Deanna couldn’t help but grin at the word princess, a soft blush coming to her face. She held out her delicate hand. “It’ll do just fine,” she said. 

He nodded. He gingerly took her hand in his, turned it over, and on her inner wrist, he wrote the word ‘Will’. Then, he bent down, and kissed her wrist gently, right over the inked words. She held her hand to her chest, and the two of them stood in silence. The next step was obvious - but to Will, Devoni had no name. He stumbled, “Er… You don’t have to… I’ll remember you, forever, so, I-I couldn’t forget. You don’t need to-”

Deanna stopped him by taking his hand. She turned his hand over in the same fashion, revealing his inner wrist. Then, in a sweet and homey font, she wrote ‘Deanna’. The moment it was on his tan skin tears welled in her eyes. She didn’t allow Will to comment on the beauty of her name, instead pulling him close by his arm and kissing him hard, her eyes shut. “Goodbye, Will,” she said with a shaking voice, and then tore herself away. Will was left alone in the grass, staring longingly after her. He looked down at his arm, and then read the word a hundred thousand times. Deanna, Deanna, Deanna. Goodbye, Deanna. Goodbye. 

The Enterprise was a beautiful ship. It was the flagship, in fact. It wasn’t Will Riker’s, but he didn’t mind that. After all, he was the first officer to a man who appeared to be quite respectable, Captain Jean-Luc Picard. He’d only met him that day, but he had a record that was more than prestigious, and, while a bit stiff, was more than kind and polite to his new first officer. The two of them quickly struck a rapport, and had taken their place on the bridge. One by one, the new staff arrived. An interesting staff, to say the least. The security officer, for one, was a Klingon, and an intense one at that, but committed, and that much Riker could appreciate. Just when he thought that was the strangest member of the senior staff, he met an android claiming he was the third officer. Well, he was… qualified. Riker was somewhat stupefied by the fact that he existed, let alone that he was in Starfleet, so for the time being that was all he had to say. The chief engineer was, thus far, the most relatable of the bunch, a cheerful gentleman with a visor over his eyes. He seemed a bit eager to please, but his enthusiasm for problem-solving went unmatched. 

The bridge seemed quite full by around a half hour before departure. But before he knew it, the Captain was proudly introducing him to someone new. “Ah, perfect!” he said, in that stern, Shakespearean voice of his, “Commander Riker, I’d like you to meet the ship’s counselor, Deanna Troi.” He lifted an arm to the door, and there she was.

What was there to say? She was radiant. What was once a short head of black locks had evolved into an enormous halo of perfect hair around her head. She wore, instead of a uniform, a deep purple body suit with a low violet collar. It showed the gentle contours of her body, sweet hips and soft thighs, a low neckline which showed off her clavicles and a slight, though still professional valley of cleavage between her new breasts. Her face was just as angelic and regal as it had been, her black eyes adorned with long, batting lashes and smoky eyeshadow. And yet, for all the changes in her body and her expression, they were nothing compared to how she carried herself now. All the uncertainty was gone. Before Will Riker was a woman who knew exactly who she was - Exactly as  brilliant, exactly as beautiful. 

The moment she walked in, she was similarly stunned by his familiar face. Picard noticed the connection between them and raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware you two had met,” he said. “Will there be a problem here?”

“I…” Will began, then snapped back into himself. “N-no, sir, no problem! Deanna and I met when we were both much younger, sir, but we got along well. There won’t be any problem, I assure you.” 

Deanna smiled in return, and nodded at the Captain. “I agree, Captain. It’s a pleasure to formally meet you, I’m very excited to start my position here,” she said, and shook his hand.

The two didn’t get a chance to talk until much later that night, when their shifts ended and they both flocked to the ship’s bar, Ten Forward without so much as a word between them. When they found themselves across from each other, there seemed little to say. All they could do for a moment was scoff and smile and shake their heads. 

“What are the odds?” Will finally said.

“Truly!” Deanna answered delightedly. “You look… I mean, you look fantastic.”

“Please, I look fantastic, you look fantastic! I mean your…” he, somewhat awkwardly gestured to his chest, “And your…” And then, an equally awkward gesture down towards his hips. “I-I’m sorry, this is terribly unprofessional as your senior officer.”

“No, no, it’s alright!” she laughed, charmed, “I wouldn’t have gotten it done if I didn’t want people to notice!” She looked down at the table and, somewhat bashfully, went on,

“To be perfectly honest, I… Spent a lot of time wondering if you, specifically, would like it.” 

He froze up for a moment. Then, a childish smile took over his face, and a blush came to his cheeks. “Well. I hope you didn’t do it for me.”

“Don’t give yourself that much credit. I did it for me,” she told him. She paused. “So… I guess we both ended up in Starfleet, didn’t we? It gets you, in the end.”

Will laughed gently. “It’s not so bad. I think I just hated it because my dad wanted me to do it. You know how it is. Your parent recommends it, and suddenly it’s the stupidest thing in the world. But it’s served me well.” 

“That’s good.”

“Mm.” He looked down at the table and sighed. “You know I… I spent a lot of time thinking about where you could have been. Whether it was working with people, like you wanted.” He smiled, that sweet, warm smile of his. “I bet you make a fantastic counselor.”

She shrugged, a flattered look crossing her face. “I do my best,” she said. “I’m very glad we met again, Will Riker. I finally get to thank you.” 

“Thank me?”

“For the woman you showed me that night,” she answered. “Without you, who’s to say I ever would have found her?”

“Oh…” he sighed, “She was always there. And besides, it hardly seems right that you should thank me. You gave me my name, I should be thanking you.”

She smiled at that, tucking her hands between her legs under the table. “Well. As your namesake once said… What’s in a name?” 

He smiled back at her. They drank together and watched the stars fly by, twice as bright as they were that Alaskan night. And then, when the drinks were gone, they exchanged no kiss but an understanding smile, and said goodnight.