"That Which She Craves" - PG-13 - Star Trek XI - Spock/Uhura
One of my NaNoWriMo "Project Work in Progress" stories.
Thanks go out to the amazing cincoflex who created the term, Koltarkta, and graciously let me use it. If you think Spock/Uhura is hot, you should check out her Trip/T'Pol stories.
I also want to thank the amazing folks at the Vulcan Language Dictionary. With out all their hard work, this story would have never happened.
There was always a thrill that comes with opening a new book.
For Cadet Uhura the thrill was intensified by that fact that the book was written in a different language. She fell back on her bed and drunk in the first line.
plak'tow shoret katau la' - Koltarkta
She knew it was Vulcan, but it was unlike any other Vulcan writings she had seen. The note that her cousin had sent with it said it was a book of Vulcan poetry, but Uhura had taken a course on Vulcan poetry and it all tended towards epics. True, some were less epic then others, but still... the first entry in the book was only seven lines long.
Plak'tow, it was a word that Uhura had never seen before, well, not this version. Plak in Vulcan meant blood, but the 'tow suffix was puzzling. Tow referred to sickness, but she had only seen it used as a prefix, like in tow-kath - a healing trance.
Shoret was much more familiar: to call out to or calling out for. Either way, blood was some how calling.
Katau was tricky, it was one of the few words Uhura had gotten a failing mark on when quizzed. Depending on the context it could mean to devour: like to consume destructively, recklessly, or wantonly. Or it could mean to devour: like to eat hungrily, voraciously, or ravenously - some thing Uhura could never image a Vulcan actually doing. And for a completely different perspective, it could mean to bring.
Uhura made a note on her pad and turned to the next word. La conveyed some thing or some one being here or present, in this time or place.
Then there was the last word - Koltarkta.
Uhura had never encountered that word before - ever, in any form. Getting up from the bed she went over to the computer, logged on to the Vulcan Language Institute and began to search.
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Gaila slipped into her quarters as quietly as she could in an attempt not to wake up her room mate.
“I don't want to know why you are just getting in when it is so far past curfew,” Uhura called out.
Gaila startled and dropped her shoes. “And what are you still doing up?” she asked. “Don't you have a class in a few hours?”
Uhura stretched her arms over her head, “I was doing some research and the time got away from me.”
“You could say that I was doing the same thing,” Gaila replied smugly before throwing herself onto her bed. “So, what super-ultra-extra credit project is this for?”
“It's not for school,” Uhura answered. “Some of us simply enjoy reading.”
“I enjoy reading,” Gaila said, “as long as there's sex. Oh! Are you reading erotica?”
A pillow flew through the air at Gaila's head. “It's a book of Vulcan poetry.” Uhura replied shortly.
“So definitely, no sex then.” Gaila said with a sigh.
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Over the months Uhura kept working at translating the book. As she worked she discovered that the book was even more precious then she had first thought. The book had been hand written, which her cousin ,and at first, Uhura, had thought was a sign of its age. It turned out that the book was old - Vulcans did have long life spans, and who ever wrote this was surely gone now - but it wasn't that old. How ever, it was a book of poems written by a single Vulcan. Short simple poems about every day life: their thoughts on the sun rise, the memories invoked by the smell of a favorite dish, hints of feelings at the passing of a friend.
The translation became Uhura's favorite way to spend her free time and she even toyed with thoughts of publishing it when she was done. While there had been a few personal journals and histories translated from Vulcan to Earth Standard, Uhura was sure there was nothing like this.
Even Commander Spock had said so. She had gone to him after she finished her first translation - Reflections on My Son's Life as He Now Becomes a Man - and asked him to look it over. He had complemented her on finding the correct tone, and, “while some of the the word choices may not be strictly the truest translation, the over all effect was very well done.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The scholastic demands of her final year had caused Uhura to lay a side the book of poetry. But after the events caused by the Nahara and Nero's destruction of Vulcan, Uhura threw herself back into the translation project. She had it almost finished, most of the poems only needed to be polished, but that first entry still puzzled her. Search as she might, there were several words that she could just find no definition for.
It was Spock that gave her the break through she needed, and with out her even asking. “What has your thoughts so occupied, k'diwa?” he had asked her and Uhura's head snapped up.
“k'diwa?” she echoed.
“Yes,” he replied softly, the very corners of his mouth lifting up as he looked at her.
Uhura could feel that this was an important moment for them as a couple, but she just wasn't sure how. “I don't know what that word means,” she confessed.
“No, I don't imagine it would be found in a text book or dictionary. It is a term of endearment from before the reformation. Most Vulcans don't use it because of it's emotional connections.” Spock answered. “But there are still some couples how will call each other k'diwa, beloved.”
Uhura couldn't stop the smile from forming on her face, “Beloved?” she repeated slyly.
Spock dropped his gaze from her eyes and he continued, “The full form, k'het'n'dlawa, means half of my heart and soul.”
Uhura was stunned, this was a very deep part of himself that Spock had just shown her, “Thank you.” she said softly before pressing a kiss softly to his mouth.
When the kiss ended, Uhura took a small step back - that man was much to tempting for her own good - and said, “I also need to thank you for helping me with my project.”
Spock raised an eyebrow, “I was under the assumption that you wished to complete the translation on your own.”
“I did,” she replied “And it's nearly done. There is just one poem that I haven't been able to finish and k'diwa was one of the words that had me stumped.”
“And you are now open to my help?” he asked.
“Well, if these other words have the same connotations, then I doubt I will be able to finish it on my own.” Uhura said.
“Very well, I am ready to be of service,” Spock said.
“Why don't you sit down, and I'll just read you the original,” Uhura suggested.
Spock promptly took his customary place on the sofa, “That is amenable.”
Uhura went over to her shelf and retrieved the book. While she could recite this poem from memory, there was still some thing about following along with the flowing script as she read that connected her to the words.
Sitting down next to Spock, she began:
plak'tow shoret katau la' - Koltarkta
tese sha'kea ki'ihsekweik k' plak'tow - Koltarkta
po' goh zamgad tu ki' shetau fai-tor - Koltarkta
falek shaht trasha-tor sha'veh herbosh - Kortarkta
glazhau na' a'thetsh heh nah-tor ha-kel - Kortarkta
las'hark abru' Shi'Kahr dungau-vravshau falek-tor - Kortarkta
k'diwa ra ki' tu vesh' - Koltarkta
Uhura closed her eyes for a moment before turning to look at Spock.
“Ah, what... um, words have you been...”
Uhura had never seen Spock so flustered, “Spock?”
He took a deep breath before looking at her, “You were correct in your assumption that this poem has several ancient words. Words that have a deep emotional meaning.”
“Is it troubling for you to hear them?” she asked, not wanting to cause Spock discomfort.
“It is not... I was not expecting to hear you say those words.” Spock took a second deep breath, “I am better prepared now. You may continue.”
Uhura watched him for a moment before reaching for her notes, “Well, there were only three words that I hadn't found a meaning for, so maybe I should read what I have so far?”
“That is acceptable.” Spock said with a nod.
Uhura looked at her page of notes and read:
Blood called out, leading me here
Effecting my thoughts to be covered with blood
After only a few days I have discovered you
Heat is ended leaving my body empty
I look at the bay and reflect on home
Sun over Shi'Kahr will fail to warm
Beloved what have you done
Uhura placed a hand lightly on Spock's knees and was surprised by the way he twitched at her touch, “At first I thought it was some how about a fight, that the writer lost control and hurt some one, but it's a sad poem, isn't it?” she asked. “Her lover died?”
Spock reached out and gently ran the back of his fingers over her cheek, “No. It is not sad at all.”
“I know I haven't made any progress on the response word, but I don't see how that can change the tone of the poem that much,” Uhura sat back. “Blood called out, leading me here. What have you you done?” she recited the first and last line of the poem again.
“You are mis-using the word plak-'tow,” Spock said in a steady voice. “It does not mean blood, but blood-fever.”
“Blood-fever?” Uhura quickly made a note of her pad. “So the writer is sick?
“In a sense,” he answered “but not what you are thinking.”
Spock closed his eyes and Uhura waited for him to collect his thoughts. “plak-'tow dates back to the time of Surak, when my people cast off emotion and devoted them selves fully to logic. With out emotion, the blood-fever came as a reminder of our baser needs. It is a way to ensure that our race continues.”
Uhura thought for a moment, trying to decipher what Spock had just told her. “So, this blood-fever is part of conception?” she asked tentatively.
“In a way, most marriages are more a partnership, but the blood-fever is a way to ensure that the couples bond. Not only physically, but mentally and even emotionally,” he answered. “The rush of the fever has pasted and now this woman wonders at the changes that have over taken her, the way her mate has touched her body and her mind.”
“Oh,” Uhura leaned back towards Spock, “So it's a love poem.”
“Again, in a sense. But you do have the word...” he trailed off.
“Koltarkta?” Uhura finished for him and was amazed at the pale green hue that spread over his cheeks. “Spock? What aren't you telling me?”
“The more appropriate term would be erotic.” he said softly.
Uhura was floored by this, she never would have believed that there was sure a thing as erotic Vulcan poetry, but Spock had never lied to her before.
“The term, koltarkta,” he coughed slightly “it is a reference to... that is, it means,” he took a deep breath - his third of the evening and Uhura took this as a note of how embarrassing this must be for him - and continued in a rushed voice, “that which she craves.”
“That which she...” understanding dawned and a smile broke out on her face. “Ah!” she said softly as she placed a hand on Spock's leg. “That which she,” Uhura dragged her hand up his leg, “craves.”
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plak'tow shoret katau la' - Koltarkta
tese sha'kea ki'ihsekweik k' plak'tow - Koltarkta
po' goh zamgad tu ki' shetau fai-tor - Koltarkta
falek shaht trasha-tor sha'veh herbosh - Kortarkta
glazhau na' a'thetsh heh nah-tor ha-kel - Kortarkta
las'hark abru' Shi'Kahr dungau-vravshau falek-tor - Kortarkta
k'diwa ra ki' tu vesh' - Koltarkta
Call of blood brought me here - That which she craves
Causing my mind to be foggy with fever - That which she craves
After only a few days you have become known to me - That which she craves
Heat is gone leaving my body hollow - That which she craves
I look at the bay and think of home - That which she craves
Sun over Shi'Kahr will fail to warm - That which she craves
My Beloved what have you done - That which she craves
Thanks go out to the amazing cincoflex who created the term, Koltarkta, and graciously let me use it. If you think Spock/Uhura is hot, you should check out her Trip/T'Pol stories.
I also want to thank the amazing folks at the Vulcan Language Dictionary. With out all their hard work, this story would have never happened.
There was always a thrill that comes with opening a new book.
For Cadet Uhura the thrill was intensified by that fact that the book was written in a different language. She fell back on her bed and drunk in the first line.
plak'tow shoret katau la' - Koltarkta
She knew it was Vulcan, but it was unlike any other Vulcan writings she had seen. The note that her cousin had sent with it said it was a book of Vulcan poetry, but Uhura had taken a course on Vulcan poetry and it all tended towards epics. True, some were less epic then others, but still... the first entry in the book was only seven lines long.
Plak'tow, it was a word that Uhura had never seen before, well, not this version. Plak in Vulcan meant blood, but the 'tow suffix was puzzling. Tow referred to sickness, but she had only seen it used as a prefix, like in tow-kath - a healing trance.
Shoret was much more familiar: to call out to or calling out for. Either way, blood was some how calling.
Katau was tricky, it was one of the few words Uhura had gotten a failing mark on when quizzed. Depending on the context it could mean to devour: like to consume destructively, recklessly, or wantonly. Or it could mean to devour: like to eat hungrily, voraciously, or ravenously - some thing Uhura could never image a Vulcan actually doing. And for a completely different perspective, it could mean to bring.
Uhura made a note on her pad and turned to the next word. La conveyed some thing or some one being here or present, in this time or place.
Then there was the last word - Koltarkta.
Uhura had never encountered that word before - ever, in any form. Getting up from the bed she went over to the computer, logged on to the Vulcan Language Institute and began to search.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gaila slipped into her quarters as quietly as she could in an attempt not to wake up her room mate.
“I don't want to know why you are just getting in when it is so far past curfew,” Uhura called out.
Gaila startled and dropped her shoes. “And what are you still doing up?” she asked. “Don't you have a class in a few hours?”
Uhura stretched her arms over her head, “I was doing some research and the time got away from me.”
“You could say that I was doing the same thing,” Gaila replied smugly before throwing herself onto her bed. “So, what super-ultra-extra credit project is this for?”
“It's not for school,” Uhura answered. “Some of us simply enjoy reading.”
“I enjoy reading,” Gaila said, “as long as there's sex. Oh! Are you reading erotica?”
A pillow flew through the air at Gaila's head. “It's a book of Vulcan poetry.” Uhura replied shortly.
“So definitely, no sex then.” Gaila said with a sigh.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Over the months Uhura kept working at translating the book. As she worked she discovered that the book was even more precious then she had first thought. The book had been hand written, which her cousin ,and at first, Uhura, had thought was a sign of its age. It turned out that the book was old - Vulcans did have long life spans, and who ever wrote this was surely gone now - but it wasn't that old. How ever, it was a book of poems written by a single Vulcan. Short simple poems about every day life: their thoughts on the sun rise, the memories invoked by the smell of a favorite dish, hints of feelings at the passing of a friend.
The translation became Uhura's favorite way to spend her free time and she even toyed with thoughts of publishing it when she was done. While there had been a few personal journals and histories translated from Vulcan to Earth Standard, Uhura was sure there was nothing like this.
Even Commander Spock had said so. She had gone to him after she finished her first translation - Reflections on My Son's Life as He Now Becomes a Man - and asked him to look it over. He had complemented her on finding the correct tone, and, “while some of the the word choices may not be strictly the truest translation, the over all effect was very well done.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The scholastic demands of her final year had caused Uhura to lay a side the book of poetry. But after the events caused by the Nahara and Nero's destruction of Vulcan, Uhura threw herself back into the translation project. She had it almost finished, most of the poems only needed to be polished, but that first entry still puzzled her. Search as she might, there were several words that she could just find no definition for.
It was Spock that gave her the break through she needed, and with out her even asking. “What has your thoughts so occupied, k'diwa?” he had asked her and Uhura's head snapped up.
“k'diwa?” she echoed.
“Yes,” he replied softly, the very corners of his mouth lifting up as he looked at her.
Uhura could feel that this was an important moment for them as a couple, but she just wasn't sure how. “I don't know what that word means,” she confessed.
“No, I don't imagine it would be found in a text book or dictionary. It is a term of endearment from before the reformation. Most Vulcans don't use it because of it's emotional connections.” Spock answered. “But there are still some couples how will call each other k'diwa, beloved.”
Uhura couldn't stop the smile from forming on her face, “Beloved?” she repeated slyly.
Spock dropped his gaze from her eyes and he continued, “The full form, k'het'n'dlawa, means half of my heart and soul.”
Uhura was stunned, this was a very deep part of himself that Spock had just shown her, “Thank you.” she said softly before pressing a kiss softly to his mouth.
When the kiss ended, Uhura took a small step back - that man was much to tempting for her own good - and said, “I also need to thank you for helping me with my project.”
Spock raised an eyebrow, “I was under the assumption that you wished to complete the translation on your own.”
“I did,” she replied “And it's nearly done. There is just one poem that I haven't been able to finish and k'diwa was one of the words that had me stumped.”
“And you are now open to my help?” he asked.
“Well, if these other words have the same connotations, then I doubt I will be able to finish it on my own.” Uhura said.
“Very well, I am ready to be of service,” Spock said.
“Why don't you sit down, and I'll just read you the original,” Uhura suggested.
Spock promptly took his customary place on the sofa, “That is amenable.”
Uhura went over to her shelf and retrieved the book. While she could recite this poem from memory, there was still some thing about following along with the flowing script as she read that connected her to the words.
Sitting down next to Spock, she began:
plak'tow shoret katau la' - Koltarkta
tese sha'kea ki'ihsekweik k' plak'tow - Koltarkta
po' goh zamgad tu ki' shetau fai-tor - Koltarkta
falek shaht trasha-tor sha'veh herbosh - Kortarkta
glazhau na' a'thetsh heh nah-tor ha-kel - Kortarkta
las'hark abru' Shi'Kahr dungau-vravshau falek-tor - Kortarkta
k'diwa ra ki' tu vesh' - Koltarkta
Uhura closed her eyes for a moment before turning to look at Spock.
“Ah, what... um, words have you been...”
Uhura had never seen Spock so flustered, “Spock?”
He took a deep breath before looking at her, “You were correct in your assumption that this poem has several ancient words. Words that have a deep emotional meaning.”
“Is it troubling for you to hear them?” she asked, not wanting to cause Spock discomfort.
“It is not... I was not expecting to hear you say those words.” Spock took a second deep breath, “I am better prepared now. You may continue.”
Uhura watched him for a moment before reaching for her notes, “Well, there were only three words that I hadn't found a meaning for, so maybe I should read what I have so far?”
“That is acceptable.” Spock said with a nod.
Uhura looked at her page of notes and read:
Blood called out, leading me here
Effecting my thoughts to be covered with blood
After only a few days I have discovered you
Heat is ended leaving my body empty
I look at the bay and reflect on home
Sun over Shi'Kahr will fail to warm
Beloved what have you done
Uhura placed a hand lightly on Spock's knees and was surprised by the way he twitched at her touch, “At first I thought it was some how about a fight, that the writer lost control and hurt some one, but it's a sad poem, isn't it?” she asked. “Her lover died?”
Spock reached out and gently ran the back of his fingers over her cheek, “No. It is not sad at all.”
“I know I haven't made any progress on the response word, but I don't see how that can change the tone of the poem that much,” Uhura sat back. “Blood called out, leading me here. What have you you done?” she recited the first and last line of the poem again.
“You are mis-using the word plak-'tow,” Spock said in a steady voice. “It does not mean blood, but blood-fever.”
“Blood-fever?” Uhura quickly made a note of her pad. “So the writer is sick?
“In a sense,” he answered “but not what you are thinking.”
Spock closed his eyes and Uhura waited for him to collect his thoughts. “plak-'tow dates back to the time of Surak, when my people cast off emotion and devoted them selves fully to logic. With out emotion, the blood-fever came as a reminder of our baser needs. It is a way to ensure that our race continues.”
Uhura thought for a moment, trying to decipher what Spock had just told her. “So, this blood-fever is part of conception?” she asked tentatively.
“In a way, most marriages are more a partnership, but the blood-fever is a way to ensure that the couples bond. Not only physically, but mentally and even emotionally,” he answered. “The rush of the fever has pasted and now this woman wonders at the changes that have over taken her, the way her mate has touched her body and her mind.”
“Oh,” Uhura leaned back towards Spock, “So it's a love poem.”
“Again, in a sense. But you do have the word...” he trailed off.
“Koltarkta?” Uhura finished for him and was amazed at the pale green hue that spread over his cheeks. “Spock? What aren't you telling me?”
“The more appropriate term would be erotic.” he said softly.
Uhura was floored by this, she never would have believed that there was sure a thing as erotic Vulcan poetry, but Spock had never lied to her before.
“The term, koltarkta,” he coughed slightly “it is a reference to... that is, it means,” he took a deep breath - his third of the evening and Uhura took this as a note of how embarrassing this must be for him - and continued in a rushed voice, “that which she craves.”
“That which she...” understanding dawned and a smile broke out on her face. “Ah!” she said softly as she placed a hand on Spock's leg. “That which she,” Uhura dragged her hand up his leg, “craves.”
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plak'tow shoret katau la' - Koltarkta
tese sha'kea ki'ihsekweik k' plak'tow - Koltarkta
po' goh zamgad tu ki' shetau fai-tor - Koltarkta
falek shaht trasha-tor sha'veh herbosh - Kortarkta
glazhau na' a'thetsh heh nah-tor ha-kel - Kortarkta
las'hark abru' Shi'Kahr dungau-vravshau falek-tor - Kortarkta
k'diwa ra ki' tu vesh' - Koltarkta
Call of blood brought me here - That which she craves
Causing my mind to be foggy with fever - That which she craves
After only a few days you have become known to me - That which she craves
Heat is gone leaving my body hollow - That which she craves
I look at the bay and think of home - That which she craves
Sun over Shi'Kahr will fail to warm - That which she craves
My Beloved what have you done - That which she craves