Chapter Text
Monica was finding it easier to focus on the small things. It wasn’t so much the ‘being on another planet’ part – after all, she'd been born on a planet her species wasn't native to. It was the white sky and the ice black mountains and the dark, dark sea. It was realizing that even though she could breathe the atmosphere here, that was by luck, not design. It was knowing, absolutely, that she was an alien here, and suddenly she understood Karveth better than she ever had before.
It wasn't frightening, necessarily – just a huge and open knowledge that could be overwhelming if looked at head-on. So she skirted it, approaching it from its edges. The night before, she'd quietly turned off her translator and just listened to Karveth and his parents talk to each other, the sibilant S's, crisp T's, and soft, round vowels beautiful and strange. Karveth had asked her about it later, when they were alone.
“I guess it’s easier to have these pieces of alien experience, and take them a little at a time, instead all at once,” she said with a small shrug.
“A wise strategy,” he said. “I’m very proud of you, sh'tal,” he added softly, taking her face between his hands. She dropped her gaze, aiming a teasing smile up at him.
“You know, you throw around an awful lot of compliments for a guy who's getting laid regularly.”
“I’m not an idiot,” he snorted, laughter lurking his eyes. “I intend to keep getting laid regularly; I know how this works.”
Now she sat in the great room of the house he'd grown up in, focusing not on the landscape outside the windows, but on the delicate, trailing tendrils of the potted plant beside her chair. Her sketchbook was open in her lap, but she'd only gotten down a few lines. In the corner of the page, she experimented with shading.
“Ah, the u'sht,” said a voice above her head. She looked up – it was Kevryn. “It's Sharvess’s favorite. She's kept it alive for over thirty years.”
“That’s impressive.”
“Make sure to tell her that,” he said, smiling. “It'll puff her up for a week.” His smile, which reminded her forcefully of Karveth’s, faded. He sighed. “I'm very sorry that our husband has chosen to be so inhospitable, Monica.”
“So am I,” she said. She weighed her next statement for a moment, and decided honesty was the best policy. “I hope you understand that I’m on Karveth’s side here.”
“I would think less of you if you weren’t,” Kevryn replied with equal candor. “He is your r'eysleten, after all.” His antennae co*cked curiously. “Are you…comfortable with those terms?”
“Very, actually. There's really no human term that works better. I mean… boyfriend and girlfriend?” She gave her head a dismissive little shake. Kevryn mouthed ‘boy-friend?’ to himself and she laughed. “No, the second Karveth called me his r’eyslen and told me what it meant, I liked it much better.”
“It’s a fine thing to chosen by a woman who knows what she wants.” Kevryn smiled again. “Ask me how I know.”
They shared a chuckle, and then Monica asked softly, “So you really don't mind that I’m-?”
“My son is happy,” he said simply.
“Why isn’t that good enough for Th'alyn?”
Kevryn sighed. “My dear little fire, if I could answer that, the last four years would have been far less painful.” He gave her a close, discerning look. “Karveth said you had the blade in you. I can see what he means.”
“I've just sort of assumed he meant that as a compliment.”
“It is. A great one.”
She glanced down at her lap. “Dare I ask what else he's said about me?”
“That you are intelligent, and you have a warm spirit, and that you make him laugh.” She felt her face heat, and he added, in an amused tone, “And that the human tendency to change color when embarrassed is highly entertaining.”
“Yeah, he gets a kick out of that,” she said drily.
Karveth entered, carrying his coat over his arm. He paused at the sight of them. “I see the plots against me have already begun,” he said. Monica cleared her throat and shrugged innocently.
“What’s a little minor plotting between friends?”
“Of course,” he said blandly. “What was I thinking?”
Kevryn watched them with the amused look of a theater-goer deeply invested in the show. “Dragging her down to the point?”
“Only if she requests dragging.”
“I can walk.”
“You see, Sh’atyn? She can walk.”
Monica looked sympathetically at Kevryn. “You had to put up with a lot of this when he was growing up, didn’t you?”
“Between the impudence and disassembling everything in the house, it’s a wonder any of us survived his childhood. Has he told you what he did to my transport when he was twelve?”
Karveth’s head rolled back with an exasperated groan; Monica looked between father and son with interest. “He hasn’t, but I think he should!”
Karveth continued to look at the ceiling. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“So much,” she said gleefully.
“I’m happy for you. Shall we?”
“I'll get my coat,” she snickered.
He led her from the rear of the house down a steep path towards the water, a deep bay that cut into the land like pictures she had seen of fjords on Earth, only fiercer and harsher. The serrated rocks rose up around them, and she took care to watch her footing and hold on to Karveth’s guiding hand. Finally, the path flattened somewhat, and passing between two boulders that each had to be at least ten meters tall, they came onto a narrow promontory that pushed itself into the heaving waters of the bay. Wide-winged kusa birds wheeled overhead, shrilling sharply.
“This is where you and your sister would come play as kids?” Monica asked, surveying the wind-whipped bay. “That explains a lot.”
“About?”
“You. And Andorians in general, I guess.”
“No, what explains a lot about me is that Dessa would try to knock me into the water and I'd retaliate by… rebuilding her toys later. And what explains a lot about Andorians is that this is considered one of the more unexciting parts of the planet. You wouldn’t believe how many fights I got in in my early days in the Imperial Guard for coming from such a dull, safe province.”
Monica’s eyebrows lifted incredulously. “You're right. I wouldn't.” She shivered sharply, and hugged her arms tight around herself. Karveth noticed, and wrapped his arms about her from behind.
They stood together, watching the restless water as she backed deeply into his coat. Three small, dark objects broke the surface, water streaming from slicked down fur, past curved, wicked fangs. Monica’s eyes grew large as she watched the creatures heave themselves up onto the rocks. “What are those?” she asked, her voice hushed, even though the animals gave no sign of being distressed by their presence.
“Don't you recognize them?” Karveth asked, smiling slightly. She gave him a bewildered look.
“Why would I recognize them?”
“They're on your coat.”
She freed an arm, looking first at the embroidery on her sleeve, and then back at its real-life inspiration, and then at him, for explanation.
“Those are k'mysiss,” he said. “They’re… sort of a provincial mascot. We like them because they’re fearless.” As if proving his point, a pair of kusa swooped low, claws outstretched, but the k'mysiss chittered and snapped angrily, and the birds soon made a frustrated retreat. “You remind me of them,” he added, still smiling. “Small and fierce.”
She returned to using him as a windbreak, smiling back with irritated affection. After a moment more of watching the k'mysiss, she asked, “So what did you do to your dad's transport?”
“I took out the engine.”
“The whole engine?”
“The whole thing.”
“And you were twelve.”
“Almost thirteen.”
She tipped her head back to look at him, laughing, and he returned the look, but his smile was soft. “What?” she asked.
“It's good to see you laughing here.”
“Well, I like you just as much here as on Mars. Maybe a little more.”
“More?”
“I'm getting to know you better.”
“And you’re still willing to speak to me.”
“I’m even willing to do more than speak.” She leaned back against him meaningfully. “But not out here. It's really cold out here, sweetie.”
“My poor fragile pinkskin,” he said with deep, insincere sympathy. She jabbed her elbow back at his midsection, giving him an evil look, and he laughed. “It is a bit brisk,” he allowed.
“Glad we agree,” she said. “Now let's get back inside before I turn blue, too. Which, by the way, would be a bad thing.”
