Chapter 13: Gift Horses

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Huh?

I barely heard my mother's words as I stared at the polished metal and gemstone necklaceshe held out towards me. A jolt of exhilaration vibrated through me as I realized that, fuck yes, I really had been right about her bringing the piece to me. I was the female of the family who had reached adulthood. Me. She had said it in front of a witness, so there was no way she could take it back. I glowed with triumph, and a smile spread across my face as I imagined feeling the weight of the cool metal against my chest.

I felt Spock's fingers brush mine, and about a second later, I felt his mind ease into the space I always left open for him.

"It is possible that you have misjudged your mother's ability to accept reality. Although she has been behaving in a less than socially acceptable manner, she has come to the same conclusion as the male members of your family. Your mother does not appear to be a person who would make a public declaration if she did not agree with the sentiment being expressed."

Spock's words, meant to be words of encouragement, brought me back to earth. The smile that had been spreading across my face died right there and then. He was right about my mother, and he was so very wrong. My mother would never make any kind of public declaration of anything, whether she believed in it or not, unless she felt she had a damn good reason.

"No, Spock. It's not that simple."

"Is this not what you wanted, K'diwa? Your mother has acknowledged your right to make your own decisions."

"No, this fight is just beginning. Something's up, and I want to know what it is. They forced her to come here and make nice to me. They have something over her head."

I shook my head from side to side and moved my hand out of his reach, as much to emphasize my negative response to his comments as to break the unwanted contact. I hoped he sensed why I was pushing him aside; there wasn't time to explain. There was something important going on, something just outside my understanding. I needed to see the big picture. The delicious distraction of Spock's mind touch, even though I knew he was just trying to be supportive, was a luxury I couldn't afford.

I raised my eyes from the jinaq towards the woman who had offered it to me. The woman had the same brown eyes, and the same full lips, curled somewhere between a smirk and a snarl, that I knew I could expect to see on my mother. However, there was no way this woman could actually be my mother, because my mother would have choked to death trying to let those words come out of her mouth. Nevertheless, the words had come out of that smirking mouth, so maybe this moment was real. Maybe this new Nyofu was able to find something good inside me. Could I trust her? It was so damn hard to tell. There was no one I could ask for advice; that would be proof that I wasn't ready to be a grown-up in her eyes. No, I had to run this gauntlet alone.

A gauntlet... There was something about that image, but I couldn't place it.

Nyofu continued to smirk at me. I continued to stare back, hoping my stare was letting her know that I wasn't going to fall for whatever game she was playing.

What had she said earlier?

'Koreth, Keth, and Khalil agreed that it was time to pass the jinaq

on to the female of the family who was old enough to take a mate…

Arguing with a quarter-blood Klingon is not wise, so I gave up when

Koreth himself, a full blood, asked me to give you what would have

gone to his daughter, had she lived long enough.'

I imagined the showdown that must have gone down before my mother got on that transport. Nyofu, with a deep furrow wrinkling her brow, folded her arms across her breasts. Her lips were in an angry pout, and she was standing her ground on her refusal to go to San Francisco. She was a notably small center point to a triangulation of large men with bad tempers. Khalil used his hands as he spoke, as he often did, probably making a fairly logical argument for why it was time to trust me to handle my own life. Maybe Keth had used humor in some crude way, as was his gift, reminding my mother that, at least physically, I wasn't her little girl any more. In the end, though, Koreth's words moved her heart. What could Koreth have said to get Nyofu to accept his request, get on a transport, and come so far from home alone when she was afraid of flying?

With the old man in mind, I looked at the jinaq one more time. Other than earlier today, the last time I had seen the jinaq was on my fifteenth birthday. Koreth had brought it out and told a story about his long-dead daughter. He told a story about a brave girl who never gave up, an intelligent girl who used her mind instead of force to overcome problems that got in her way, a resourceful girl who made the most of every opportunity. Koreth was sure she would have left farm life behind and joined the Defense Force when she reached the Age of Ascension, and brought honor and glory to their humble family… had she lived. Instead, she died a victim of the plague that had threatened to kill them all. Her story was tragic and romantic all at the same time, so much promise cut short so young. It was just the sort of thing to set a girl like me to dreaming about other worlds and adventures. Then, as he smiled and put one of his huge hands gently on my shoulder, the old man brought his head down to my level. He said, "Perhaps someday, Nyota, you will leave home and bring us glory, as she would have."

When I had first met Koreth on the day I fell down that damn hill, I was afraid of him. Khalil had brought me to his family's house as he'd said he would. The old man, with his unruly, snow-white hair that swept back from his deeply receding hairline to end somewhere near his waist, had been sitting at the head of his family's table, unquestionably the monarch of his realm. His honey colored skin was lighter than that of Khalil and the other large man in the room, and his amber brown eyes gave him the appearance of a lion who was trying to decide whether I was prey or not. In a deep gravelly voice that boiled up from somewhere in his chest, he'd barked a few sentences at Khalil in a language I didn't understand. Khalil had answered in the same language, his tone respectful, but Khalil had seemed almost embarrassed. The old man took another long look at me, smiled, revealing wickedly pointed teeth, and said in Standard, "Welcome home."

On the night of my birthday, there was warmth and pride in Koreth's eyes, and no fear in me. No, I was too busy wondering what I could do to have his eyes shine when he told tales about my exploits. I had downloaded the brochure for Starfleet Academy the next day, and spent the next three years secretly planning my own road to glory.

I longed to take the jinaq, longed to claim it as my own, but something kept me from reaching out and accepting the mantle of adulthood that she offered me. Just like I couldn't help being suspicious about why my mother was suddenly offering it to me. Why not when I graduated from high school, or when I entered the Academy? Yes, Koreth had asked her, but there had to be more to it than that.

Everything I'd been holding inside all day began to burble to surface. I wanted answers. If I was an adult in her eyes, I had a right to demand them. Two twisters, made of fear, frustration, disappointment, and anger that had been years in the making, bored their respective ways up from my heart and down from my brain, meeting at my mouth.

I looked at my mother, fixed her brown eyes with my own, and said one word.

"Bullshit."