Title:  Into the Light
Author: mzsnaz
Series: TOS
Characters: Amanda and Christine Chapel
Rated: G
Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by Paramount and Viacom
Summary:  A Trequel (<g> Thanks Caz) to `A Battle Lost' and `Pyrrhic Victory'.

--Into the Light--

     The immense, minimally decorated cavern in the heart of Mt. Seleya barely registered her interest as Doctor Christine Chapel followed the lithe young Vulcan adept as they made their way through the darkened hallways.  Impressive statuary was similarly dismissed as they wove through the maze of passageways that led to the upper floors of the imbedded rooms.  She had been summoned to Vulcan at the behest of Ambassador Sarek to attend his son's memorial service, but his entire rationalization for her presence had only recently been given.  To say she was shocked would have been an understatement.  First, the terrible blow of Spock's death, which had led to the apparent breakdown of Spock's mother, Amanda.  Then, the world seemed to twist even more as a Starfleet alert was issued stating that her friend and mentor, Doctor McCoy, had also apparently succumbed to some form of madness and the Enterprise had been hijacked.  Now, she'd been informed that Leonard and Spock (Spock!) were on their way to Mt. Seleya to somehow be restored.  It was all too incredulous for her to believe; and yet, here she was, curiosity and compassion winning out over reason.

     Glancing nervously around and winded by the altitude and stronger gravity, she could only hope that her guide wouldn't disappear as they came to a nameless entranceway in the middle of one of the halls.  There was no way that she could ever find her way out of the mountain if that happened.

     Hearing something too faint for her human hearing, the Vulcan, little more than a girl, pushed against the door and allowed it to swing open.  As she stepped into the dim room, Christine was reminded of a monastery she'd once visited.  The austere room wasn't like those she'd been in previously, as this one had a wide terrace-like opening that allowed for a birds eye view over the proceedings taking place on the weather worn, stone-carved area below.  Uncertain of what to do, she heard the barely audible click of the door closing behind her.  Through the torch lit dimness, Christine could see that she wasn't alone.  

     The figure standing near the opening hadn't moved or acknowledged Christine's entry, and she fleetingly wondered if it would appear that she was intruding.  With careful, measured steps, the doctor moved over the rock surface to stand next to the woman.  It had been years since she'd last seen Spock's mother.  They traveled in vastly different circles; except for the occasionally rare diplomatic function that Christine was forced to attend as the Director of Emergency Operations for Starfleet, they had very limited contact.  There was no malice or hostile reasons for the distance; in fact, Christine could only cringe when she thought of her past obsessive desire to know everything possible about Amanda.  After all, if Amanda had won over Sarek, surely there was some way that she could win over Spock, who wasn't even fully Vulcan.  The memory could still make her face redden with mortification.  Ironically, it wasn't until that fateful trip to Babel when she met Spock's parents that the reality of what it meant to be in such a marriage forced her to examine her motives.  Finally, she was able to move past her adolescent interest in their son. 

     She could still remember the envy she'd felt when first introduced to the ambassador's wife.  What a glamorous, fantastic life it must be -- the travel and the formal dinners -- events that were exclusive and meant wearing the most exclusive, beautiful clothes, not to mention meeting VIP's from every known planetary system within the galaxy.  She could still feel her crushing disappointment when Amanda had appeared to be less than approachable.  Oh, she was polite and smiled frequently, but whenever Christine had tried to ask a question that moved beyond the realm of diplomacy or idle chatter, the older woman would become aloof and change the subject.  It had all seemed very inconsiderate, until she was told by Leonard of the way Sarek had reacted when his wife had told an innocent anecdote about Spock's pet sehlat. 

     According to McCoy, the ambassador had 'stormed over' and demanded that she leave with him.  Christine knew that the good doctor and a number of other crewmembers felt that the Vulcan ambassador's mannerisms were not just domineering, but downright tyrannical, when dealing with his Human wife.  Years later, when Christine found herself awkwardly stuck with a group of medical students at a small diplomatic function, she had listened with thunderstruck delight as Amanda explained that her husband didn't understand that there was a difference between 'My wife, attend' and 'Amanda, I am ready to leave.  Please come with me'.  Why should he waste words if the end result was the same?  That would be illogical.  Never mind the emotional reaction of those who didn't understand that it wasn't a despotic streak that made the ambassador's words offensive but a cultural misunderstanding.  It didn't help that the Vulcan axiom translated as Sarek said, thereby enforcing his claim that there was no justification for not using the phrase.  The group had chuckled at the story as others related similar instances of misunderstandings, such as a Vulcan wife being 'forced' to walk behind and to the side of her husband.  Christine was again delighted to hear that it wasn't some form of domination, but was a Pre-Reform show of respect.  In the once violent Vulcan society, the male would walk ahead of his wife to ensure her safety; again, the error was in the interpretation of the action.

     Listening to the conversation only enforced Christine's belief that she had made the right decision to dump her blatantly juvenile fantasies about Spock.  The discussion of misunderstandings continued into the more mundane complaints about the stale appetizers and watered down drinks at most diplomatic meetings, but in her world, that brief comment about cultural misunderstandings had spoken volumes.  She'd tried to win Spock over like a Human male instead of determining what would make an impression on him as a Vulcan.  Well, she thought she had tried.  Grinning sardonically, she still remembered her attempts to cook Vulcan foods and learn the language.  After slaughtering the language unmercifully, she gave up in frustration.  It was impossible for Humans to learn Vulcan, she concluded, until she overheard the ambassador and his wife speaking in Sickbay after his heart surgery.

     With the captain, first officer, and Vulcan ambassador all ensconced in the Sickbay for one reason or another, the Enterprise medical staff was incredibly busy.  Just after the captain's collapse and the doctor's insistence that quiet was the new order of the day, Christine had started again to take the vital signs of the first officer.  The insistent, strident tones of an intense conversation caused her to turn to see the ambassador and his wife in the middle of what appeared to be a verbal clash over some imperative matter.  Shaking her head, Amanda apparently didn't want to do something, while Sarek appeared resolute.  Noticing the way Spock was painstakingly following the dialogue, it occurred to her that she had absolutely no idea what was being said.  Finally, after a few more words, Amanda walked firmly away from her husband's exam bed and went to the door.  Without reaching the point of activating the door, she stopped to push back a strand of loose hair and carefully ran a hand down the front of her gown.  Squaring her shoulders, she left Sickbay without a backward glance.  Embarrassed at having caught an apparent fight between the two, Christine was taken aback when she looked at Spock and perceived a barely concealed glimmer of humor in his eyes.

     "Spock, what was that all about," she whispered, wondering just how good Vulcan hearing was.  She could see Captain Kirk's miserable attempt at feigning sleep and fought back a grin as he just barely turned his head so that he could eavesdrop.

     "Nothing more than a difference of opinion," the first officer murmured, a reserved quality to his sonorous tone implying to her that there was much more to it than that.  "Father insisted that Mother personally contact and attend to the diplomatic parties to assure them that he will be recovered in time for the Babel conference.  Mother preferred to stay here with us, even though it is obvious that the surgery was successful."

     "Your father won," Christine concluded as she used a more normal tone.  The readout over the ambassador's head indicated that he was asleep.

     "He has a proclivity for that," Spock said without humor.  "It is crucial that the diplomats realize that Sarek is only temporarily incapacitated and will be present at the conference.  Logically, someone needed to assure the representatives that the surgery was successful and that it was only a somewhat disconcerting interruption to the diplomatic proceedings."

     "Your mother was that someone," Christine said, once again thinking about the way Amanda had prepared herself to confront the throng of confused, upset, even panicky diplomats.

     Coming back to the present, Doctor Chapel could still remember the uneasiness she had felt when she realized that her preconception of Amanda's role was shaken. Obviously, there was no question in Sarek's mind that his wife would follow his orders.  More to the point, he had complete confidence that she could, in fact, handle the sensitive diplomatic matter of his illness and its aftermath while he recovered.  That was what had impressed and bothered Christine.  Would Spock have trusted her to handle a delicate situation like that?  At that point in her life, she was certain that she would have been helplessly flailing about, making matters worse.  Amanda was required to be there as her husband's steadfast support, unruffled and showing no weakness in the near tragic turn of events that came close to ending Sarek's life.  Christine had to admit that the realization of living such a public life – the whole 'stiff upper lip' mentality that was required – was not something she desired.  While Spock wasn't a diplomat, the thought of having any possible relationship with him held up under the microscope of the media appalled her.

     "Why are you here, Christine?"

     Startled out of her reverie, Christine could sense a certain reticence in the older woman's tone.  It wasn't antagonistic, but she obviously didn't want to be disturbed since her attention hadn't left the proceedings below.

     "I came for the memorial service," the doctor said bluntly.  A series of quick blinks and a fleeting upward twitch of her mouth was the only indication that Amanda had heard what was said.  Several long seconds passed before the older woman cast a somewhat preoccupied look toward Christine.

     "I'm pleased to announce that the memorial service has been cancelled."

     "So I see," the doctor murmured as the atmosphere immediately changed.  With the tension level lowered, she couldn't observe any evidence of the disturbing catatonic state that Sarek had described.  As if she had read her mind, Amanda suddenly exhaled sharply and shook her head.

     "I'm also pleased to inform you that I'm not loony as a bird, either."

     "I never would have thought that," Christine said, sincerity and humor lacing her words.  "Your husband was concerned."

    "My husband overreacted."

     Turning her full attention to Amanda, the doctor narrowed her eyes.  "Perhaps he did; however, he was concerned enough to inform me of the situation.  Could you tell me what happened?"

    Tilting her head while her focus returned to the plaza below, Amanda's expression hardened and Christine could tell that this wasn't going to be easy for either of them.  "It's a personal matter, dear.  Perhaps it would be best if you stood with the crew below.  It will be several more hours before the fal-tor-pan is complete."

     "I'm not that easy to get rid of."

     "I don't want to talk about it."  As if to signal that the matter was ended, Christine observed the almost imperceptible tightening of the older woman's jaw line and her refusal to look away from the ceremony.  Funny. Christine had always assumed that Spock's stubborn streak came only from his Vulcan side.  With a resigned sigh, she turned her attention to the activities below.  It appeared that nothing had happened from the time of her entry into the room.

     "What happens if the ceremony fails?"  The doctor's question hung uneasily in the room.  Uncertain that it had even been heard, Christine nearly repeated it, until she noticed that Amanda had closed her eyes.

     "If it fails, then we've lost nothing.  Doctor McCoy will be restored, Spock's katra will be transferred to the Hall of Ancient Thought, and the physical manifestation of Spock's body will be attended to.  That is all that can be done."  Opening her eyes, she fixed Christine with a look that was mixed with hope and despair.  "I can only trust that T'Lar can recall and perform the ancient technique of refusion for the benefit of the doctor and our son."

     "But, how will you react if she fails?"

     Again, Christine observed an almost shadowy glimpse of emotion that was just on the periphery of existence.  Standing there with Amanda after so many years, it occurred to the doctor that she had a better chance of reading Spock's reaction, or Sarek's, for that matter.  The feeling that something wasn't quite right edged its way into her mind.  She knew what to look for in the subtle, fleeting glimpses of emotions that most Vulcans showed.  How was she to read someone who didn't pretend to be Vulcan, but was perhaps the most guarded person she'd ever come across?

     "What do you want me to say?" Amanda said softly as she remained transfixed by the events below.  "I'll be upset, but I won't react as I did at his death.  I'll never do that again."

     "Not even if the fal-tor-pan fails?"

     "No."

     A slight movement caught the doctor's eye.  It appeared that the only visible clue to Amanda's state of mind came from the unconscious way she twisted a ring around her finger.  Swiftly, Christine's mind filled in the details from her past obsessive research.  In order to receive the ancient handcrafted ring, the wearer had to have an alliance through their bondsmate with a particular House and be willing to comply with the strict responsibilities of such an association.  It was the only adornment that she'd ever seen Amanda wear on her hands…and her reason for being there became crystal clear. 

     "You made a mistake," the younger woman uttered with conviction.  She watched Amanda calmly drop her hands to her side and incline her head in a barely perceptible way.

     "Everyone makes mistakes," Amanda calmly started to say, but Christine shook her head and interrupted.

     "Please don't give me that stock response.  Yes, everyone does make mistakes, but you feel that you can't."

     Blinking in shock, the older woman appeared ready to laugh.  "What?  Of course I can.  I've made plenty of mistakes in my life.  Why would you say something so preposterous?"

     Unerringly, Christine answered.  "You made a mistake that was so excruciating for you that you shut down." Noting the way Amanda turned back toward the activities below, the doctor softly continued.  "I had a similar reaction when my fiancé Roger died.  I thought that if I had been there, I could have saved him.  It's a normal part of grieving to want to escape from the pain.  I can't imagine what a Vulcan would think of such a thing, though."

     Silence filled the room, and Christine waited for the expected demand that she leave.  The ring twisting had ended, and Amanda was staring once again down at the proceedings. 

     "Do you honestly believe that you could understand?" the elder woman whispered, and Christine felt a pang of guilt.  She didn't want to add to the hurt already being experienced.

     "Why couldn't I understand?"

     "This may sound condescending," the elder woman admitted with a barely audible tone, "but it's something you couldn't understand.  The bond between Vulcans cannot be clearly defined by words, and even I cannot explain what there is between bondsmates.  I only know one thing."  Pausing, she leaned hard against the warm stonewalled façade.  "I wasn't there when Sarek needed me.  That's unforgivable."

     "You're being too hard."

     "No, Christine," Amanda said with the firm tone of conviction.  "I'm not being too hard on myself.  Instead of grieving together, I pulled away and left Sarek when he needed me.  I have never done such a selfish thing, and it has shaken the very foundation of our marriage."

     Shocked by what she felt wasn't possible; the doctor focused her hard blue-eyed gaze on the person before her.  "That's ridiculous.  Sarek is certainly strong enough."

     Amanda abruptly slammed her palm against the stone ledge they stood in front of, the slapping sound causing Christine to jump as the echo resounded through the room.

     "That's NOT what I'm talking about!" the elderly woman said, a frustrated strain evident in her voice.  "I'm not talking about what Sarek did or didn't do.  I'm talking about what I SHOULD have done."  The very exertion of the disconcerting emotion seemed to drain her energy.  Christine took a step forward, but was waved back to her place.

     "No, Doctor, I'm fine," Amanda said with some alacrity.  "The last thing I need right now is to be escorted out of here.  If this is as close as I can get, then so be it."

     "Why are you here?  I would have thought that you would be down below." 

     Once again, Christine felt that she had overstepped the polite bounds of conversation.  A flare of anger was now directed at her in the form of a vibrant light in Amanda's eyes.

     "Why am I here?  I was told that the fal-tor-pan ceremony wasn't to be disturbed by the strong emotions of humans."  The very irony of that was evident as Christine watched the Enterprise crew shifting into more comfortable positions below.  "I was told that I could possibly jeopardize the lives of both Doctor McCoy and Spock.  Obviously, that's not true."

     "Who told you that you couldn't be there?"

     In the silence that followed, Christine didn't need the older woman's response.  Amanda had apparently done something that concerned Sarek to the point that he speculated about her state of mind.  It was something that so troubled him that he would ask his wife not to be in the one place in the universe she wanted, and needed, to be.

     "T'sai?"  The young Vulcan had returned, and with her was another adept who could have been her twin.  As the girl spoke in her native tongue, Christine observed the way Amanda's entire body seemed to slump as the girl nodded and stepped out of the room.

     "Christine, if you'll follow T'Kepa back to the ceremonial grounds."  Amanda paused, and the doctor took in a breath as she prepared to speak.  Swiftly, the elder woman's hand came up.  "Please do as I ask.  I'll need a moment to compose myself."

     As the younger Human furrowed her brow, she gazed down at the proceedings.  Had T'Lar completed the refusion?  Had it been successful?  Or…

     "Amanda, I can stay if you want," the doctor softly inquired, but the woman shook her head.

     "No," she said sternly in a barely audible whisper.  "Go.  I'm… expecting someone."

     A wounded feeling swept over Christine as she felt the sting of the dismissal.  Walking with a practiced calm, she turned back to the window.  "As you wish."

     "Christine?"  Although she was almost out of the room, the younger woman took the two steps required to enter the hall before she turned to recognize the obvious query.

     "Yes?" she responded in kind.  Her tone wasn't harsh, however, as she could now clearly see the trepidation that was etched on Amanda's face.

     "I do appreciate your presence.  I just…" her voice faded as her gaze went up and over Christine's shoulder.  Turning, the doctor saw who had drawn Amanda's attention.

     "Doctor," Sarek said as he swept into the room.  It was both a greeting and a dismissal since, without another word, T'Kepa closed the door, effectively enclosing the couple in the stonewalled room.  Christine waited in breathless silence as the seconds passed.  Amanda's words about her fears for her marriage replayed as the doctor considered what possible action she could take.  It's private, she firmly thought.  It's none of your business.  Sensing the young adept was waiting for her, Christine began to follow her even as she glanced back at the door.

     "You are a Healer?" the girl asked in a tone more mature than her physical appearance indicated.

     "Yes," the Human replied, curious about the question.

     "Is T'sai Amanda ill?"

     Christine's expression softened as she heard the undercurrent of worry in the girl's gentle tone.  "No, she was deeply aggrieved by her son's death, but she is now recovered."

     They were now in what appeared to be an identical hall to the one they had just been in.  The girl's pace, which hadn't slowed since they left the room, now gradually allowed Christine to walk next to her.  They traveled the halls in silence until T'Kepa paused near one of countless arched doorways.  Opening it, the girl nodded slightly.

     "T'sai Amanda will be joining you again soon once her adun has spoken with her."  T'Kepa bowed slightly as she prepared to leave the doctor in another familiar terrace-view room that was closer to the ceremony.  Christine cleared her throat in such a way as to get the girl's attention.

     "I'm sorry, but do you have any idea what Sarek intends to say to Amanda?" 

     The girl tilted her head as a hint of a befuddled look settled on her young features.  "I asked him if the ceremony was complete, and he said it was not.  I inquired as to why he would leave the ceremony at such a juncture, and he said it was necessary to inform his aduna of the ceremony's progression."  The girl frowned slightly.  "I did not understand his next words."

     "What did he say?" Christine asked, her curiosity heightened by the girl's perplexed look.

     "His exact words were `I need to discover how Amanda feels'."  T'Kepa observed the upward curve of the Healer's lips.  Humans are most difficult to comprehend, the girl thought as she continued.  "After so many years of marriage, I would think that he would be familiar with his wife's skin texture."

     For the first time since she received word of Spock's death, Christine laughed.  It felt incredibly good.  "I think I understand what he meant," the Human warmly replied as the young adept arched an eyebrow.  Alone in the room, the doctor turned her attention to the ceremony below.  After what seemed to be a protracted amount of time but was perhaps closer to twenty minutes, she observed the barely perceptible crimson light of dawn touch the very edges of the mountain peaks that surrounded Mt. Seleya.  As the door once again opened, the doctor smiled broadly as Amanda entered the room, the elderly woman's steps unfaltering as she took her position near the open window.

     "Did your meeting go well?" Christine asked even though she knew the answer.  Although the older woman's eyes were bright from recent tears, there was no trace of the uncertainty and apprehension that had shrouded her presence earlier.

     "It went very well," Amanda confirmed in a light tone.  As they watched Sarek take his place back among the watchful crowd, Christine could now see the evidence of a smile that had been long missing from the elderly woman's face.  Patiently, they waited for the outcome of the fal-tor-pan ceremony as several Lara birds flew overhead.  No matter the results, the doctor was now confidant that, as a couple, Sarek and Amanda would meet the challenges ahead together.


The End