Written November 2003
Disclaimer The ship Voyager and
every character appearing in this fic
belongs to Paramount.
by VoyGirl
The fir needles hurt her hands. Kathryn Janeway stood alone, back straight as an
poker, and she held a few slim branches of fir between her hands. And it was not a
loose grip. She squeezed the fir; ready to clasp her hands around the branches
when she had squeezed hard enough to let her fingers meet, but it was not possible;
there was an inch left until the tips of her fingers could touch. There was too much
fir, she would never be able to clasp her hands around it all. Her hands were getting
red, and the needles penetrated the sensitive skin which covered her palms. Yet,
she continued to hold the bouquet of fir, squeeze it, assuring herself it was there.
She did not want to lose it, couldn’t picture herself without it. So she didn’t drop it,
though it brought defiant tears to ears eyes. She bit her lower lip, and forced her
eyes to leave the green bunch of twigs. It was still there, she was certain. And she
could smell it. It was fresh, and the sticky wounds where the fir had been cut off, at
the bottom, provided her with that heavy, spicy scent that was unique for the tree. It
was firmly in place, like a bouquet of flowers in a narrow vase; her hands. She didn’t
want to let go of it until it was absolutely necessary. Until everything was done and
over with.
The fir needles hurt her hands and her vision was blurred. When she brought her
eyes up from the fir she held in her hands, she was met by a faint, white shimmer,
which danced and moved in front of her eyes. Everywhere she looked, it followed. It
was like her eyes had been draped over with a fine white fog. The white, which had
rolled before her eyes like thick clouds on a raw and chilly night had left her without
much capability to decide distances. Not that she wanted to move; she had her fir to
think about. That white fog also caused her to become dizzy, and a little nauseous,
when she turned her head too fast. For a brief moment, she wondered what she had
gotten herself in to, standing there all alone with red palms and an upset stomach.
She dug her teeth into her lower lip, intent on not leaving her post before it all was
over. She would not do anything that could mess up something. If she just remained
passive, she was certain that everything would turn out just fine. Kathryn tried to find
an interesting spot to look at, though it was difficult for her to fasten her eyes on
something particular, when her distances turned out so abstract.
The fir needles hurt her hands, her vision was blurred, and she suddenly became
aware of another scent than fir. She had tried to discern that particular scent ever
since she had been placed on her post, but the fir had filled her nostrils so
completely, that it was difficult to detect any other smell. That other smell was faint,
though juicy enough in itself. She hadn’t really expected something quite like that,
decorating her little space. She knew, that there was a bow around her, and above
her head, decorated with yellow and red, roses and everything else that came them
to hand. It smelled good; when she had finally located that faint rosy scent, she was
intent on not letting it go, and ended up concentrating on breathing in so much that
her head began to pound. She took a few deep breaths, filling her mouth and nostrils
with nothing but the scent of fir yet again. She was glad that they had done
something like that for her, showing her a little honor and not just obligated smiles.
The fir hurt her hands, her vision was blurred, she suddenly became award of
another scent than fir, and there was a loud buzz around her. In the far distance, she
could see a couple of blurred figures, who pointed at her, laughed, even waved. She
felt like an exhibition object, and forced down the desire to leave her spot, where she
was surrounded by the odd mixture of fir and roses. She could not stand there much
longer, not alone. Once again, she wished, not for it all to be over, but for the whole
thing to start. After all, was it not supposed to be the other way around? It was not
her who was supposed to stand there, just waiting helplessly.
The buzz seemed to become louder, and with a glance Kathryn confirmed her
thoughts; more people, more bystanders had arrived. Group after group formed
crowd after crowd. People passed within the parameters of her vision. Some of them
ogled at her, some grinned, some saluted, but not a single one approached her.
Perhaps they were going to have their say, their fun, later, when it all was over. She
ogled back the best she could, though she couldn’t be sure than anyone noticed.
She especially tried to sort out, and stare down, the ones who were pointing. She
squinted, studying them through thick, hard and dark lashes.
The fir hurt her hands, her vision was blurred, she suddenly became award of
another scent than fir, there was a loud buzz around her and she was not in uniform.
Though she seldom gave her Starfleet uniform credit for being comfortable, she
gladly would have worn at least her jacket that day; it would at least have covered
her arms properly. Whatever she was clad in now (she hadn’t paid much attention to
the fabric when she had slipped in to it pricked her. It was especially painful when
she moved, ever if it was ever so little, and the stiff fabric brushed over the soft skin,
which only could be found on her lower arms. She doubted that she would have felt
better if someone had exposed her lower arms and dragged the fir twigs directly over
them instead.
The fir hurt her hands, her vision was blurred, she suddenly became award of
another scent than fir, there was a loud buzz around her, she was not in uniform and
there was an enticing smell of food that tickled her senses. She felt a surge of
hunger deep down in the pit of her stomach; an unpleasant reminder of the fact that
she hadn’t eaten much at all that morning. She had gladly accepted whatever was
cooking, right there and then, even though she knew she couldn’t possibly have any.
She had to remain on her post until she was relieved. In the corner of an eye, she
could see how someone carried a bowl filled with something orange. The young
woman with the bowl continued past Kathryn, sparing her an interesting look before
she was gone again. The bowl --or perhaps it was the woman-- left behind a sweet,
fruity scent that made Kathryn’s mouth water. Not even bringing the fir to her nose
helped. It could not alleviate her beginning hunger. But, like everything else had
done that day, the hunger disappeared when she was lost in thought, while she
looked down at the fresh, light green needles. She couldn’t stop thinking about what
would happen within mere minutes.
The fir hurt her hands, her vision was blurred, she suddenly became award of
another scent than fir, there was a loud buzz around her, she was not in uniform,
there was an enticing scent of food that tickled her senses, and her hair seemed out
of place. She had grown quite used to having the hair hover just over her shoulders,
heavy and warm. Now, her neck and ears were left bare, exposing her delicate skin
to every chill, in the mercy of her surroundings. She shuddered involuntarily when
someone ran past, right in front of her, leaving a cold draft behind. She sent the
holographic woman who had done her coiffure a thought. She had been
unnecessarily insistent on not leaving Kathryn’s hair alone until every strand was as
perfect as it could by. And for some reason, that woman had been programmed to
grin at Kathryn whenever their eyes met. Perhaps it was some sort of tradition she
had yet to be briefed on. On the subject of hair, Kathryn suddenly felt how something
tickled her nose. A strand of her overgrown fringe had freed itself of several of the
many hairpins, and now hung right in front of her right eye. She noticed, that every
time she moves, the strand moved, lazily dragging itself over the tip of her nose.
When she fixed both eyes on it, she could see the red shimmer buried deep within
the strand clearly, even thought she could feel how she became more and more
squint-eyed, whereupon she hurried to stop looking. To look squint-eyed her last day
as a Janeway was not what she desired.
The fir hurt her hands, her vision was blurred, she suddenly became award of
another scent than fir, there was a loud buzz around her, she was not in uniform,
there was an enticing scent of food that tickled her senses, her hair seemed out of
place, and she could hear a bell in the distance. It was time soon, real soon. Time
for her to seal her own faith. She drew sharply after breath, sending a though home
to her mother and sister. If only they had known. If only they had been there. The
bell ringed a few more times, and Kathryn began to feel more and more like an
animal in an all too small cage. People began to flock in, from every direction, it
seemed, but she knew just that was impossible. She swallowed, pressed the fir to
her chest and held it there, firmly in place, like it was her most precious belonging. It
pricked her, pierced the fabric and scratched her skin wherever it could. But she
didn’t mind. She breathed in deeply, tried to calm herself down. It was time soon.
Real soon.
The fir hurt her hands, her vision was blurred, she suddenly became award of
another scent than fir, there was a loud buzz around her, she was not in uniform,
there was an enticing scent of food that tickled her senses, her hair seemed out of
place, she could hear a bell in the distance, and with every bell-ringing, her tongue
seemed to swell. It definitely felt like it had become thicker. She hoped that her
nervousness didn’t show, she tried to cling on to some old conception that she had
to stay brave, and look indifferent. At least until it was time, and when it was time,
she wouldn’t be alone anymore. Then she never would have to be alone again. She
had no idea how long she had been standing there; she had lost all concept of time.
It was probably not more than ten minutes, though. Ten very lone minutes. Six
hundred seconds. Six hundred utterly tedious seconds. Time did definitely not fly all
the time. But she was ready. She had been ready ever since the (preparations) had
begun. Finally, the bell stopped its toll, but her tongue didn’t. It still seemed to swell,
filling her mouth with itself, and the rest of her with a persistent sense of panic. If it
really turned out to be as bad as it felt, she would not be able to talk. Would not be
able to speak for herself. Closing her eyes, she allowed the panic to creep up further
inside of her.
The fir hurt her hands, her vision was blurred, she suddenly became award of
another scent than fir, there was a loud buzz around her, she was not in uniform,
there was an enticing scent of food that tickled her senses, her hair seemed out of
place, she could hear a bell in the distance, and with every bell-ringing, her tongue
seemed to swell, and there was something resting at the base of her neck. When
she moved her neck, that something moved. It was warm, heated by her flushed
skin. She did know what it was, though, just hadn’t remembered that it was there
before. It was not like her to forget it, nut she had so much on her mind. It was a
necklace, one which picture she had (engraved on her mind) ever since the first time
she had laid eyes on it. The chain was thin, golden and slightly twisted around itself.
The pendant, which rested in the nape of her neck was also golden, and shaped like
a star with six points. One of those was longer than the others, pointing upwards like
an outstretched arm. And at the very end of that point, like a snowflake in the
invisible hand of the golden arm, was a little, round stone. Not a real diamond, but it
was as pretty as any gem. She had gotten it for Christmas the year before, in a
pretty, red box, with a note that said ”to Kathryn from Chakotay”.
She had worn it every day since that Christmas morning, wondering what label she
should give the necklace. She did already have three things, and decided to make
the necklace her forth.
The fir hurt her hands, her vision was blurred, she suddenly became award of
another scent than fir, there was a loud buzz around her, she was not in uniform,
there was an enticing scent of food that tickled her senses, her hair seemed out of
place, she could hear a bell in the distance, and with every bell-ringing, her tongue
seemed to swell, there was something resting at the base of her neck, and she
wished that she knew what was going on. The bell had stopped its monotone ringing,
but nothing had happened. She was full of thoughts, but remained being as calm
and strong as she could, when she finally had been able to force the panic to
subside. She wasn’t worried at all, why should she? In fact, she was feeling more
and more calm as the seconds passed by, though, she still felt out of place.
The people around her had grown quiet, forewarning her that something was about
to happen soon. The calm she felt immediately began to grow, ready to fill her with a
tingling excitement. Was she supposed to feel that way? After all, she was not
exactly in the roller coaster line. When she had twisted the question at issue for a
few moments, she decided that she perhaps was in that line when it all came around.
At least she was headed for something even more unknown than the climbing hills
and loops.
The fir hurt her hands, her vision was blurred, she suddenly became award of
another scent than fir, there was a loud buzz around her, she was not in uniform,
there was an enticing scent of food that tickled her senses, her hair seemed out of
place, she could hear a bell in the distance, and with every bell-ringing, her tongue
seemed to swell, there was something resting at the base of her neck, she wished
that she knew what was going on, and all of a sudden the lights came on. To have
long, thin strings of small, red light bulbs fastened all over the ceiling hadn’t been
her idea. Though she had to admit that it was not all that bad, when she could see it
for herself. But who knew; the white draped in front of her eyes could be deceiving.
For all Kathryn herself knew, she could think that she was looking at a pretty rose,
when it in reality was someone’s neglected cactus. There were other sources of
light, too, and there was especially one which she enjoyed. Several dozens of tall,
thick and utterly white candles had been placed in candelabras along the sides of
the room. Each candle spread a soothing light, though flighty like rays of the sun, or
reflections of the same dancing across a lake, as smooth as glass. Kathryn decided
that she liked those lights the best; everything else seemed to be a little too fiddled
with. Though, she could not complain. She was neither the right person, nor in the
right position to say anything. Where she stood now, she was no longer the Captain
of Voyager, merely a woman who push herself through a few minutes of loneliness.
Though her vision was blurred, she could see a person approach her in the distance
clad in something dark, accommodated with a dazzling smile running from ear to eat.
She had never seen a smile quite like that before. Not on him; not on anybody.
Immediately, she smiled back, wishing she could simply hurl the fir away and take
his hands in her own.
”Chakotay,” she breathed, tilting her head slightly, as if it would help her to take in
the sight of him better. ”Finally!” she added under her breath.
”Kathryn! How are you feeling? You look a little... flushed.”
”I’m fine! What about you?”
”Never been better. I can’t believe this will be over soon. All these preparations...”
”Is that complaining I hear?”
”No!” Chakotay looked a little desperate for a moment, before he realized that she
was smiling at him. He sighed. ”I can’t see your face properly. Can’t you take that off
now, just for a moment.”
”That’s out of the question!” Kathryn protested, holding the bouquet up as a,
probably quite useful, shield.
”Chakotay studied her hands for a moment. ” Your hands look a little red. Does that
hurt?”
”Of course it does! It’s fir.”
”Let me guess; that thin paper wasn’t enough?”
She chuckled. ”The needles penetrated the paper immediately.”
”I have to go back again. Neelix’ waving like crazy out there. Will you be all right?”
”Yes, I will. But I can’t guarantee you want to shake my hand later.”
Chakotay merely smiled, reached forward and corrected her thin veil. ”Kathryn... It
was you who chose to marry me on Christmas
Eve.”
The End
Yes, I based a whole story on a haiku. Find "Double Xmas Celebration" here .
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