CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR
“Quite some time, I've been sittin' it out…
didn't take no chances; I was a prisoner of doubt.
“I knocked down the wailin' wall… ain't no sin.
Got the feel of fortune; deal me in.
“Comin' straight on for you. You made my mind.
Now I'm stronger, now I'm comin' through…
…straight on for you.
“Now I know I got to play my hand.
What the winner don't know, the gambler understands.
“My heart keeps playin' it through with you, my friend.
I'll take my chances on you again and again…”
-
Ann Wilson
“What?”
His tone was… dangerous; she almost
retreated.
Instead, Parihn swallowed her
trepidation, and spoke.
“It's me. May I come in for a moment?”
He was sitting in the dark, and Parihn
was genuinely alarmed: The chessboard was empty, and she noted with dismay that
the pieces were scattered throughout the room, as if someone had angrily struck
them down.
She took the chair across from him, as
she'd done on countless occasions before—keenly aware this time might well be
the last.
His first words startled her.
“I was just about to come see you.”
And hers surprised him.
“I never really thought about it
before, but… I must have tortured you for years,
His eyes narrowed, not in anger, but
almost as if to see more clearly just how anguished she was.
She'd hurt him… but, suddenly, far more important in his eyes was that she'd
done far worse to herself.
“You know that's not true,” he countered determinedly. “You're my
friend—perhaps the dearest friend I've ever known.”
He'd thought that would help, but if
anything, her expression grew even more bittersweet.
“Just your friend?” Parihn's voice was
practically a whimper.
He knew precisely what she meant.
“No… not just my friend—never that,
now.
“Our night together… I wanted it to
last forever.”
Her exhalation became a shudder; she
reached for him, almost touched… then brokenly withdrew, feeling constrained
and beaten by what she'd done, both weeks ago…
…and
long ago.
“
Eyes bright with tears, she
plaintively whispered, “And I needed you to… didn’t you know how I needed you to?”
His face was stricken.
Helplessly, he whispered, “I’m sorry…
I didn’t know. But I did know I couldn’t...” He hesitated, then finished with words she would have
never considered possible had he not just spoken them aloud.
“…I couldn’t let myself take advantage of you—not again.”
Her expression evolved, first from
confused to incredulous, then finally settled in a border realm between
empathy… and epiphany.
Now his actions over the months before
Aedra disappeared suddenly made perfect
sense: His continued tenderness; the looks he’d given her when they were alone…
…and his steadfast refusal to do anything more.
He’d thought she’d been out of control
that night, that he’d violated her somehow—when, in truth, Parihn had never doubted what she wanted from that
moment. Now she finally, truly understood… felt for this man all the more… and
reassured him as best she could.
“You didn’t take advantage of me, Cicero,” Parihn gently scolded. Her
tone was self-effacing, almost one of self-flagellation.
“I’m the one with the ‘legendary’ allure,
remember? I could have said, ‘No’…
but why would I? I wanted you more
than anyone I’ve ever wanted in my life.
“And I still want you that way,” she admitted, voice now desolate. “Not that I deserve you, anymore—if I
ever really did.
“You merit a lot better than a whore.”
Evidently that had not been the right
thing to say.
“Damn it!”
Now, for the first time since all this
had started, Mantovanni’s voice was tinged with genuine fury. He reached for
Parihn… and yanked her around to face him. His visage was terrible to behold,
and for the first time since he’d almost died, she was truly frightened.
“Stop calling yourself that!” he roared.
She quailed.
“I…”
“That's not who you are! I know
you.
“I know you!”
For some reason, that gave her strength
to face him.
“Do you?” she asked.
Do I?
His eyes held nothing but compassion
and conviction, though, when he said, “Yes… I
do.”
Reeling and uncertain, Parihn desperately
steered the conversation in another direction... or at least tried.
“I wanted to tell you something—about
Aerus. I think it's important you hear what I have to say… because I know you
don't want to hate the man, and I
don't want to be the cause of it.”
“Go on.”
She cast her eyes down as she
remembered.
“He spoke to me that night; he didn't
want me to be afraid. He was kind, and gentle. He took me, of course… but he didn't hurt me. He's a true Roman, and
believes in the old Greek tradition that courtesans are to be respected as
women of education and subtlety.”
Then, all unlooked for, Luciano
Mantovanni shocked her. With gentle intensity, he replied, “And so you were…
even as, now, you're that, and so
much more.”
Wretched and disconsolate in the face
of first his anger, and now his kindness—especially in the light of how deeply
she knew she'd wounded him—Vaerth Parihn suddenly found herself blinking back
tears… and the eloquent apology she'd long prepared melted away in the face of
her grief.
“I'm so sorry,
This time, when she tried to suppress
the sobs, she failed, and her small form was wracked with them.
“I know I've r–ruined everything, that I've already lost you
twice over, but please don't h–hate
me…”
He surged forward, and pulled her into
his embrace, where she clung to him with a strength that nearly cut off his
breath. For a long moment, he simply held her as he had only once before…
…and finally, truly understood that he would kill… or die… or, best of all, truly
live… for the woman in his arms.
Luciano Mantovanni sheltered Vaerth
Parihn, and kissed her brow, and caressed her tears away. Then, he set aside
his own myriad fears…
…and more, the pride that had kept him
alone for so long.
He fiercely whispered, “I swear you'll never lose me, Parihn…”
“...because I love you.”
When she looked up at him, her expression was at first one of
disbelief… slowly, though, it transmuted itself into wonder and joy.
“W–What?”
“I said, 'I love you.'"
She could barely breathe.
“Oh!... say it again.”
He grinned sternly, and countered, “You're really going to make me work for this, aren't you?
“Ah, well. I love you.”
Parihn understood that the expression she was wearing had to be
one of the more insipid ones in her repertoire… and didn't care in the least.
“Again,” she insisted.
“I… love… you.”
At last, she sighed, and rested her head against his chest.
“I could get used to hearing that.”
“Considering that I've said it four times in the past 20 seconds,
you should have gotten used to it already.”
She ignored his omnipresent sarcasm, and warned, “As a matter of
fact, I'd better get used to hearing
it.”
“Already issuing orders, cara
mia? Very well. I love you… ma'am.”
Parihn giggled; she didn't care that it was girlish, because this
man had always let her be a girl… and
helped her be anything else she wanted to be.
Now, though, he cocked an eye at her.
“Might I remind you that I'm out here alone with my declared love, woman?”
Her lips curved into a sympathetic, but knowing, smile.
“Now do you see what it
feels like?”
He considered that for a moment.
“Yes,” he admitted. “I do.
“It's pretty frightening.”
She left him hanging in the wind as long as she could bear it—all
of two seconds.
“All right, then… enough of that. Let me tell you something,
Luciano Cicero Mantovanni, Starfleet captain, Sicilian, Vulcan… all too human.”
Parihn caressed his cheek as he leaned forward to hear, concern
graven on his brow.
“I love you,” she said fervently. “I have never
felt for another person what I feel for you… and if you'll have me, I'll be at
your side for as long as you want me there.”
He exhaled, clearly affected by her declaration. He hugged her to
him, and this time, she was the one gasping for air when released.
Then, the devilish streak in him
came to the fore.
“Well… let me think about it.”
She gave an affronted “oh,” punched him in the arm, hard… then squealed as he lifted her by
the waist, and whirled her around.
Mantovanni lowered her gently; as he did so, their lips met in a
kiss that left them both trembling.
“So,” he said, “I've given it
some thought.”
“Well,” Parihn murmured, voice husky,
“you took too long, and missed your window of opportunity… this is what I think we should do now…”
She whispered in his ear, and he took no time at all in accepting her suggestion, or, more accurately…
…her proposition.
Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Five