The Last Time We First Met - Part Fourteen
by: Denise Underwood
c. 2001
Angry, and knowing from long, sometimes bitter, experience not to follow
Triona into the ship and into what would become a major confrontation,
LaCroix launched himself into the air, enjoying, despite himself, the
sensation of flying through the air of an entirely new planet. There was
little that was new to LaCroix anymore, and no matter what his final
decision, he intended to relish the experience.
He flew over the treetops to where the forest abruptly ended, the mountain
suddenly sheering away in a drop that was shrouded by mist. LaCroix flew
down, below the mist, stunned at the incredible vista that lay below him.
An ocean, or maybe even a gigantic lake, of water the color of amethyst
crashed against the cliffs. To his right was a beach of glittering mauve
sand that stretched out of his sight along the curve of the mountain cliff.
He landed lightly on the glittering sands, for once in his long life
utterly awed by the spectacle before him. He felt like he had the first
time he had seen Rome, not believing that something so beautiful could
exist in such a pain-filled universe. Sitting on a rock, he watched the
waves crash, listening to their roar, and the soft sound the water made as
it ran back away from the sand, like fingers on silk. In the distance, he
could see some sort of sea creatures leaping and playing in the calm water
beyond the wild shoreline.
He knew it made no sense. After all, he'd always been fascinated by the
stars. Why was he so resistant to the idea of moving to one of those spots
of lights that he had gazed upon from his earliest years? LaCroix knew that
Triona didn't understand, as much as she wanted to. She seemed to have no
doubts about the incredible undertaking she was proposing. And he seemed to
have nothing but doubt.
Spying a shell out of the corner of his eye, LaCroix slid off his rocky
perch and picked it up. In a fit of whimsy, he put it to his ear, wondering
if alien shells sounded the same. There it was -- the roar of the ocean --
both this one, and the waters of his home. He sighed, listening as the two
sounds melded; perhaps that was his answer....
*************
Triona sat on a rock of her own, looking down into the chasm at the roaring
river. In her hands she held the copy of 'The Fellowship of the Ring' her
long dead mother had given her. She'd wanted the book to be here on this
new planet with her. Somehow, it made her feel like a little part of her
mother was here with her too.
This planet, with its four moons and red giant sun, was so beautiful. It
reminded her of the world of Tolkien; hence the name she had chosen for it:
Imladris; Elrond Half Elven's last homely house. It had seemed fitting for
what she hoped would be a home for her family and their people -- Vampire,
Immortal, and Mortal.
She had worked so hard to see this day, a day when they were no longer tied
to Earth. From the days after the War, supporting Zefram Cochran's wild
dreams of trans-light speeds, despite the constant fights she had had with
LaCroix over rocket scientists and wasting resources. It was a validation
of not just that, but of the thwarted dreams of her youth, given up because
of tragedy and the ensuing responsibility.
Triona's reflections were halted by the shift in the air that signaled
LaCroix's return. She didn't acknowledge his presence, just continued to
stare at the book in her hands. He sat next to her, but chose to let the
silence hold sway. After a few minutes, she relented, leaning against his
shoulder. He covered her hands with one of his, kissing the top of her head
and there they remained.
The sounds of day's end surrounded them. Different sounds than those of
Earth, but familiar all the same. From very far away, the echo of pounding
surf could be heard, melding with the sounds of the wind in the treetops
that towered above them like a canopy from some medieval pageant. The sky
continued to darken, the pale reds, pinks, and mauves becoming crimson,
fire, and deep purple, until night finally fell.
As the first two moons rose over them, LaCroix looked down at her. "She
would have been proud of you, Triona," he said softly.
She looked at the book she still held in her hands; a book she'd kept
through death and war. Biting her lip, she shook her head sharply. "She
wouldn't even know me as I am now -- let alone be proud of me."
"That is not true. Your mother would know you and love you. How could she
not?" Triona looked up at him with an expression that was disbelieving. He
sighed in frustration. "You have accomplished so much. You are loved. You
are needed."
Holding his gaze, she asked, "Do you need me, Lucien?"
"Always." That one word hung in the night air.
Triona nodded slowly, as if savoring the sound of it. "Let's promise not to
fight tonight. Please?"
"Very well," he agreed, brushing his lips against the soft, paleness of her
cheek. "What would you like to do instead?"
She ignored his teasing sarcasm. "Take me somewhere beautiful. Someplace
you found during your flight."
"I think that could be arranged," he said as he scooped her into his arms.
"We'll fight tomorrow." Launching them into the night sky, Triona's
laughter followed in their wake.....
*************************
Triona took her book from Picard's hand. "And so we found our last homely
house, and we thrived."
"You accomplished a great deal. I know it must have been difficult in the
early years of the colony," Picard said.
"It was." She sighed. "But, that's a story for another time," she said
briskly, once more firmly back in the present. "You, my dear Captain, are
on leave. Unfortunately, I am not." In mock despair, she explained, "I have
to attend a symposium on incremental photon defense grids. How shall I ever
survive?"
"You are devoted to your duty, my dear," LaCroix told her magnanimously,
spreading his arms wide.
"I empathize with your pain, Minister," Picard added, his eyes twinkling.
Triona sniffed. "Obviously, I'll get no sympathy here! In that case, I
shall take my leave of you gentlemen. Jean-Luc," she said, turning her
attention to the Captain, an impish gleam in her eye, "you can take this
opportunity to discuss the inevitable fall of civilization with LaCroix!"
Before either man could respond, she was gone.
********************
Denise * ithildin@ondragonswing.com* Ith
http://www.ondragonswing.com
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