December '08 Word Prompt

[panyasan]

I had this idea for a story for almost a month, but just now I put in in writing. Un-beta-ed and fresh from my computer.

Whisper

She felt a numbness in her body, spreading from her legs till her arms, her neck.
She had been sitting here for hours, in the same position, straight, her legs crossed, concentrating on the flame before her.

Her mother sat near her, her face as closed as she never seen before. It looked like stone. Hard, cold. She had this look from the moment she heard the news. From the moment her mothers world had collapsed. And hers as well.

She needed her mothers arms around her, her assurance that every thing would be right again. That their lives hadn't change. That she would hear her fathers voice the moment she would enter their house. That she would asked him advice and he would teach her again in that loving way of his.

She would never hear his voice again. Sometimes she thought she did, she raised her head to listen very carefully. But it was just the whisper of the desert wind, blowing the sand into the sky.

She would never look at the stars again in his company. Never share the desire to see new worlds, to discover new possibilities. Instead she would look at the stars with pain in her heart, because some where in that sky full of stars, her father have giving his last breath.

Sitting in the hour long ceremony to celebrate her fathers life and to bid him fare-well, she looked at her mother. She felt a strong dislike against her mother. Her actions to find her a new betrothal as soon as possible, even before this ceremony, were logical. Sometimes logic can be very cruel.

Her mother wanted her to find a Vulcan husband, bound to Vulcan soil. Her old betrothal died with her father, she needed a new one now. Mother took her responsibility, she had chosen a new mate. Koss, the son of a member of the Senate. A architect with the desire to build up her home world. Not to explore the stars.

She had met Koss' mother. It was an ambitious women, with cold eyes, who wanted her husband to be part of the government. Minister at least. And what better way to let her youngest son marry the daughter of the famous minister Karik, Vulcan hero, who died saving his people.

She heard that Koss' wife had died, without giving Koss' parents their precious grandchild. Now it was her turn. She overheard Koss' father asking her mother if her hips weren't too small. Instead of castigating him for his foolish belief in a old Vulcan myth, she had ensured him she could bear children.

Her dislike for Koss' family and Koss himself grew with the minute.

The priests were starting to sing. They stood up, her blood started to stream again. Minutes after minutes their voices would sing the old songs of grief. She heard the words and in her heart she repeated them over and over again. There were like oil on the wounds of her grief-stricken heart.

Slowly, they started walking towards the exit of the monastery. With force the priest opened the door and rays of sunshine illuminated the room. They stepped outside. The sunshine warmed her. She felt the dry desert wind on her face. She smelt the distinct smell of the indukah-tree. She breathed. This was her planet. Her love. Like Vulcan had been the love of her father. She would do any thing to protect her planet and her people.

She walked away to their transport. Then she saw him. Firm face, gentle eyes. Her fathers best friend. The father of her betrothal, her old betrothal, who had died as well.
She really appreciated him for coming in spite of his own grief.

“I grieve with thee, T'pol”, he said.

“And I with you”, she said.

Then she looked Del'haiu Soval into his eyes. His grieve was evident. As was his shock that her fathers mission had failed so miserable.

For the first time she thought of something that would change her life forever. She would postpone the wedding. Instead she would leave her science post and would join the ranks of the military. She would find a way to find the truth, who were the murderers of her father.

This was the moment her youth was gone. It became just a whisper of the past.

[Escriba]

Ohhhh... I like it... Very deep and beautiful. And such a story behind the story (all the things that you hint and don't tell.)

Also:

She would find a way to find the truth, how were the murderers of her father.

We think alike

[panyasan]

Ohhhh... I like it... Very deep and beautiful. And such a story behind the story (all the things that you hint and don't tell.)

Thanks! Ehhhh....If some one likes to beta the story , so I can submit the story, I would be very happy.

[Asso]

This story is... a whisper!

[bluetiger]

Wow! So T'Pol was originally going to marry the son of Soval. How very interesting and how sad about the death of her father. Very well done.

[evcake]

Okay, I know December is a busy month for everyone, but I'm here to prod you!

Here's where we're at so far:

We have Bluetiger's lovely response already posted.
Asso's is still in beta. (Sorry, love!)
Mine is on the drawing board...

So...who else???

krn--you out there??? I KNOW this word can trigger one of your sublimely decadent MU fics!

Well...I'm working on it. Maybe I can post it tomorrow. There's still some December left.

evcake?

Elessar--whaddaya say, Boss Dude?

escriba?

Alelou?

jT?? "I'm an editor, not a writer", my big, shiny behind!!!

Bueller? Bueller? Anyone? Anyone?

I'm working on it. There's still some December left.

[Aquarius]

panyasan--This is a very interesting point in T'Pol's life you've chosen to write about! Lots of character development here, plus the intrigue of murder--good stuff!

evcake--Hooray!! Good to hear.

I just sent a beta'd copy back to Asso, so we should be hearing from him soon.

In the meantime, I'm working on mine. Chances are it'll be a late entry...it's likely I'll have next month's prompt posted before I get this story finished!

[Aquarius]

Okay, I lied...

Instead of working on "Body and Katra" tonight like I intended to, I did a little freewriting and came up with this. It's unbetaed. Sorry.



Whisper
By Aquarius

CHARACTERS: Trip, T'Pol

GENRE: ROMANCE, FLUFFY STUFF

RATING: G



He hugs his wife after a long day of work, her belly now swollen enough to be an obstacle. She wants to know about his day; he only wants to know how she feels.

He doesn't want to miss a thing.

"Vulcan women aren't supposed to be ruled by cravings," she says as she absently caresses her middle.

"Our son's half human," he reminds her gently. "That's gotta make a difference."

"Root beer…sauerkraut…jalapeño peppers…it's distasteful."

"Ouch." He winces playfully. "I think I'm sleeping on the couch tonight."

She shoots him a look as she follows him into the bedroom, but says nothing. She knows he doesn't mean it. Instead, she lights the candles as he slips out of his uniform and into comfortable clothes.

He hurries to help her with the meditation pillows. He knows that her condition hasn't made her fragile or helpless, that she would admonish him if she caught him thinking of her that way. He supposes she isn't the only one adjusting to the effects of pregnancy; while she experiences cravings and nesting urges, he deals with irrationally over-protective instincts. He's uncertain as to whether they're a manifestation of their marital bond, or if this is something every expectant father feels. He just knows that he doesn't want his wife working any harder than she has to, even if it's just moving a few pillows around.

He eases her gently to the floor, then takes his place behind her, his legs stretched out on either side of her hips. Meditation, neuropressure, breathing exercises in preparation for their child's impending arrival—all have become part of the same routine over the last several months. He looks forward to these times with his wife. Their bond is strong, but in these moments he can hear her most clearly in his mind, giving him a sense that they really are one.

Only recently he has also become aware of their son through the bond. She can hear their child all the time; he must work at it, but if he relaxes enough and concentrates enough, he can hear that tiny voice, too. It's not as strong as his wife's. It's more like a whisper in the background.

But it's there nonetheless.

"You're tired," she observes before they begin. "We'll keep this short."

He smiles, pulling her closer, breathing in her skin and her hair and feeling soothed by it. "Are you kidding?" he asks lightly. "Take it slow.

"I don't wanna miss a thing."

[evcake]

Awww...(sniffle)

[Alelou]

Good prompt -- we've had so many different creative interpretations!

[Asso]

Delicious!

[bluetiger]

What a great story. Trip just can't help those protective instincts. This was so gentle and loving.

[evcake]

Whisper

Trancelike comets drift toward suns
Attraction inescapable
The journeys of planets are a slow and stately dance

Sand whispers down the face of the dune
They cleave to one another
Not a grain is blown by chance

[Asso]

Evcake... this one is... so lofty!

[panyasan]

Whisper

Trancelike comets drift toward suns
Attraction inescapable
The journeys of planets are a slow and stately dance

Sand whispers down the face of the dune
They cleave to one another
Not a grain is blown by chance

A wonderful whisper of a poem.