+--------------------------------------------------------------+ | Welcome to Hypatia's Story Archive | | http://hypatia.slashcity.org/slash/ | | Copyright Notice and Disclaimer | | http://hypatia.slashcity.org/slash/notice.html | +--------------------------------------------------------------+ Title: In All His Glory Author: Hypatia Contact: athena_sappho at yahoo.com Series: TOS Part: 1/2 Rating: PG-13 for a veiled reference to a sexual practice not sanctioned by the esteemed Reverend Falwell Codes: K/S Summary: Kirk and Spock do a little book-browsing on shore leave. Feedback: This is my first story. I would like some constructive criticism. Don't be afraid to say something negative - I need to know, and I can take it. Please let me know if you run into sentences or paragraphs that don't make sense. Also, I'd like to know if I'm being too obscure, or if this story works at all. Post feedback to the ng or to email, whatever you prefer. Thanks! Authors' Note: Words in German have been deliberately misspelled to indicate each character's (mis)pronunciation. In All His Glory, or "My Love is Green" Kirk pulled out a quarto-sized paperback from the shelf and flipped to a well-worn page. In a low voice, he read out loud to his companion: "I swear it by the River Styx." But Zeus was soon to regret his oath, for Semele now bid him to show himself to her in his full glory. Agonized, the god pleaded with her to change her mind, but she would not be dissuaded. "You have sworn . . ." "You know, Spock," commented the reader, "when I see the phrase 'Zeus in his full glory' for some reason I picture him naked." Spock's expression at that moment bespoke gently suppressed amusement. "That's very . . . interesting," he said, in such a way as Kirk took to mean 'silly, in your own unmistakeable way.' After a moment, Spock went on. "There is a logical problem with that hypothesis, at any rate, since apparently Semele, as well as the other mortal women whom Zeus wooed, managed to become pregnant without any difficulty." "No, there's a flaw in *your* logic," countered Kirk, grinning. Kirk glanced over at the shopkeeper, the only person within earshot of the pair in the tiny bookstore. Perhaps it was not so much tiny as utterly crammed with books, from floor to ceiling, with only narrow aisles for browsing patrons. Quietly, Kirk continued. "Actually, Zeus always shapeshifts when he, you know, visits mortal women. Let's see," he began ticking off fingers, "there was the swan, a white bull, a black bull, the golden shower, ah . . ." Spock's eyes were squeezed nearly shut from the effort not to laugh -- at that sight, and knowing the reason, Kirk burst out laughing. "I don't think the Greeks meant *that* kind of golden shower!" Kirk glanced back at the storekeeper, who was faintly glaring at the disturbance behind glinting round spectacles. Kirk turned back to Spock with a mirthful smile. "Correct me if I'm wrong," began Spock slowly, "but I always thought -- since Zeus was a thunder-god -- that 'in his full glory' would mean that he would appear accompianied by an impressive electrical discharge. In other words, Semele was struck by lightning." "You know, I could make a joke about 'discharge,' but I won't." "I appreciate your restraint, Jim." Kirk flipped through the book again, but, perhaps not seeing anything interesting, replaced it on the shelf. Spock scanned the shelf a little further down and picked out a book; hardbound, with a canvas cover. "Interesting -- this book is in German." Spock found that this book too opened to a particular page, where someone long ago had marked a passage with a thick pencil. "Can you read that?" asked Kirk. Spock nodded. "Meine Liebe hat Schwing-gen der Nakhtigall, und wiegt sich im blue-hen-dem Flieder, und jaukh-zet, und sing-get--" "You're not reading that right." Two heads turned towards the white-haired bookseller, who had suddenly drawn near. "Here," he said to Spock, pushing his glasses up his nose with one hand while reaching for the book with the other, "allow me." "Certainly," answered Spock, and hand him the aged volume. With a slightly nasal lilt, the shopkeeper read: Meine Lie--be hat Schwingen der Nachtigall, Und wie--gt sich im bluehenden Flieder, Und jauchzet Und singet Vom Du--ft berauscht Viel lie--bestrunkene Lieder. "That's beautiful," exclaimed Kirk. 'Liebes-trunkene' indeed, thought Spock, but asked: "How do you know how to read it?" The shopkeeper handed the little book back to the Vulcan and stated emphatically, "It's *love* poetry. Don't read it like a soldier." "We *are* soldiers," retorted Kirk. "Ah, but springtime comes to everyone sooner or later, even soldiers." The older man held up the index finger of his right hand while he said this to accentuate the point. Then he turned and headed back to his counter. Kirk raised his brows and gave Spock a significant look. A few minutes later, the two officers were to be found walking down a fairly uncrowded boulevard, newly-acquired books in hand. (At least in Kirk's hands). "If you think about it, what those mortals had to go through when they fraternized with immortals -- Semele, Tithonus, Aeneas' father, whatsisname . . ?" "Anchises." "Right. Sort of makes our own difficulties seem rather mundane." "Indeed." "I wonder if the Greeks were trying to say something. 'Don't date outside your species?'" "That seems unlikely, since most of the heroes were the products of mixed unions." "Hmm, you may have a point: Heracles, Achilles, Helen." Kirk smiled. "I guess that would make us a bit like the Gemini." "Castor and Pollux? Helen's brothers, one the son of Zeus, the other the son of a human father?" "Something like that." "An interesting parallel, but there is such a thing as carrying a metaphor too far." "Oh?" "Castor and Pollux were the sons of the same mother. In our case that would be a little strange." "Castor and Pollux loved each other," said Kirk, a little put out. "That's the only reason I brought them up." END Part 1/2 BEGIN Part 2/2 They had come to a public park. Kirk wandered off the street into the greenery, like an electron deflected as it enters a magnetic field. His friend followed him onto a shady path. "I wonder," said Spock after a bit, "what a starship Captain in his full glory would look like." Kirk couldn't help finding the question slightly embarrassing, but he nevertheless had a ready answer. "He'd be in uniform, in the Captain's chair, surrounded by his trusted senior officers at the controls. I'd imagine him giving orders during a crisis. Saving lives. Making the galaxy a better place. That's what it's all about to me." Spock seemed to consider this for a while and Kirk felt the heat rush to his face. "So what do you think?" he prompted. "Much the same," answered Spock, "although you left one thing out." "Left something out? What would that be?" Spock's expression suddenly closed off a bit. "I shouldn't say." "Oh, is that so? Now you have to tell me." Spock sighed, and stopped walking. Then he whispered (having made sure that no-one was approaching) "Although everyone pretends not to notice, you often go through shifts in, shall I say, a visible state of arousal." "Spock!" Kirk's face was red. "I don't . . . I mean . . . I suppose I had that coming for bringing it up in the first place." "Jim. I wasn't trying to embarrass you." Kirk held Spock's gaze for a moment. "I believe you," he said, when his color had returned to normal. Kirk broke eye contact and started walking again. "Tell me Spock, have I corrupted you, or did you always think like this and just keep it to yourself?" "A little bit of both, I think. Before I met you there was no-one whom I shared my thoughts and deepest feelings with. And, since I met you, I have begun to see with new eyes, if you will allow the expression." Spock stopped in front of a towering pine tree, whose branches curved upwards from about a half-meter, forming natural benches. By unspoken mutual agreement, the two sat down gingerly. "Do you think they'll mind?" asked the Vulcan, but Kirk assured him that the seat looked pretty well-used. They sat in close contact for a while, absorbing their surroundings, before Kirk spoke. "In a way, we're in uncharted territory, more or less." Spock bent his head slightly in agreement. "But it is interesting to look at literature, where something like this has been covered in a metaphorical sense." Kirk balanced his books on his knee. "Does that make sense?" Spock nodded. "Castor and Pollux. Demian--" "Demian?" "You are a little bit like Hesse's Demian to me." "Really? I guess I'm flattered. Just don't get any funny ideas about my mother." "That was certainly not the part of the book I had in mind." Kirk opened one of his books on his lap. Now, where is that page, he said to himself, ah, there. His finger traced down the side of the page until he came to the part he wanted. Just as he was about to begin, Spock interrupted with a question. "I was wondering if you could tell me . . . what exactly is meant by 'warriors out of season'?" "Ah. I think you mean, like when so-and-so is 'cut down like a mighty oak'? Right. I'd say it's because these men are being cut down at the prime of their lives -- before their time. And yet, it's not exactly tragic. Achilles has a choice between going home to -- to basically 'live long and prosper', or choosing to fight and earn a sort of immortality in the songs of the poets. Glory. *Kleos*." "But Achilles did not choose that path freely." "Yes, that's the interesting part, if you'll allow me to read this. Actually, before I begin, you *have* read _The Symposium_, I assume?" "Indeed. Apparently I did not read it in the correct state of mind. For example, when sober, it seemed to me that the hermaphrodite theory of mate selection was not simply a dead end, but a palpable wrong turn in the pursuit of science." "Good. So you're aware of the subtext. Hmm, where are we?" and, in a measured voice, Kirk began to read: Then, O knight Patroclus, with a deep sigh you answered, "Achilles, son of Peleus, foremost champion of the Achaeans, do not be angry, but I weep for the disaster that has now befallen the Argives. All those who have been their champions so far are lying at the ships, wounded by sword or spear. [... A]re you still, O Achilles, so inexorable? [...] You know no pity; knight Peleus was not your father nor Thetis your mother, but the grey sea bore you and the sheer cliffs begot you, so cruel and remorseless are you. [...] at least send me and the Myrmidons with me, if I may bring deliverance to the Danaans. Let me moreover wear your armor; the Trojans may thus mistake me for you and quit the field, so that the hard-pressed sons of the Achaeans may have breathing time- which while they are fighting may hardly be. We who are fresh might soon drive tired men back from our ships and tents to their own city." He knew not what he was asking, nor that he was suing for his own destruction. --FIN-- Sources: "Meine Liebe ist Gruen": text by Felix Schumann (music by Brahms). The Iliad, by Homer, Book XVI: translation by Samuel Butler. 1234567890223456789032345678904234567890523456789062345678907234567890 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ASCEM messages are copied to a mailing list. Most recent messages can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCEML.