05-25-2024, 02:06 AM
Her poison tea half gone, Artemis allowed herself to rest and pause. She needed a moment to savor the conflicting tastes, and allow her body to feel the warmth of the liquid move through her trachea, past her lungs, and worm through her stomach. It was psychosomatic to feel the poison move in behind it, but Art knew the pain was coming.
What she didn’t see coming, however, was Peter’s entire confessional. About coming from a long familial line of soldiers. About losing people under his command. About having to kill people in the name of self-preservation. And for the purposes of mercy for those in question. And the shame he felt for doing so.
She knew he did not admit this information lightly. In fact, he said as much in order to make his point, and acknowledge it. It was clear he was never this vulnerable before, or at the very least, in a very long time. Though she wasn’t sure how to feel about being called a “bulwark” and a “mountain”, she understood the sentiments behind the words. She was his rock.
He took another mouthful of tea, and Art was glad; she wasn’t sure she had the words to tell him how she felt about what he said. The young Klingon was stunned, to say the least. She knew that Peter regarded her highly, but not this personally. Well, he was here, doing this ceremony with her, and that was certainly personal. She had invited him, as somewhat as an offhanded comment, thinking either they were going to die, or he wouldn’t take her up on it. But here they both were, expressing the deep feelings they had for each other. This was about as soft-hearted as a Klingon got, diluted by Human genetics or not.
“I trust you with my life.” She found herself blurting out. Her tea was almost gone. “And all aspects of it. As I stood with you, against… well, against everyone else… I knew that even if you were somehow wrong, I would still stand with you. “
The words were running out of her now, she couldn’t stop herself.
“On Earth, sailors of old manifested a saying that referenced a star they called ‘Polaris.’ It was a star that was always constant in its movement, and was the brightest star in its constellation. To the bare eye, it was the closest star to True North, and sailors used it to navigate. If ever they became lost at sea, with nothing to guide them… they looked for the North Star. And that… that’s how I felt on the Bridge of that Yeager, standing next to you. Even if the situation turned on us, even if everyone else turned on us… you were… and are… my North Star.”
Art drank the rest of her tea. She felt like she was going to puke.
What she didn’t see coming, however, was Peter’s entire confessional. About coming from a long familial line of soldiers. About losing people under his command. About having to kill people in the name of self-preservation. And for the purposes of mercy for those in question. And the shame he felt for doing so.
She knew he did not admit this information lightly. In fact, he said as much in order to make his point, and acknowledge it. It was clear he was never this vulnerable before, or at the very least, in a very long time. Though she wasn’t sure how to feel about being called a “bulwark” and a “mountain”, she understood the sentiments behind the words. She was his rock.
He took another mouthful of tea, and Art was glad; she wasn’t sure she had the words to tell him how she felt about what he said. The young Klingon was stunned, to say the least. She knew that Peter regarded her highly, but not this personally. Well, he was here, doing this ceremony with her, and that was certainly personal. She had invited him, as somewhat as an offhanded comment, thinking either they were going to die, or he wouldn’t take her up on it. But here they both were, expressing the deep feelings they had for each other. This was about as soft-hearted as a Klingon got, diluted by Human genetics or not.
“I trust you with my life.” She found herself blurting out. Her tea was almost gone. “And all aspects of it. As I stood with you, against… well, against everyone else… I knew that even if you were somehow wrong, I would still stand with you. “
The words were running out of her now, she couldn’t stop herself.
“On Earth, sailors of old manifested a saying that referenced a star they called ‘Polaris.’ It was a star that was always constant in its movement, and was the brightest star in its constellation. To the bare eye, it was the closest star to True North, and sailors used it to navigate. If ever they became lost at sea, with nothing to guide them… they looked for the North Star. And that… that’s how I felt on the Bridge of that Yeager, standing next to you. Even if the situation turned on us, even if everyone else turned on us… you were… and are… my North Star.”
Art drank the rest of her tea. She felt like she was going to puke.