Sweet Sorrow- Ch. 5

Sweet Sorrow

By vandiver49

Rating: G, Angst, Friendship, Romance

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters associated with Star Trek, I'm just borrowing them for a moment. Please don't sue; people in the Navy don't make that much money.

Speech in Vulcan is between the (*)

Hey, gotta thank my BETA reader Stubadingdong for making my final chapter intelligible for the readers.

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Chapter 5 (Conclusion)

Trip managed to walk his beaten and battered body back to the shuttlepod, his skin scorched by the searing heat of the midday sun. His uniform was soiled by dust, sweat and blood, a testament to his hard fought victory. Limbs and joints screamed out in pain with every step as he finally opened to shuttlepod door. His mind was consumed with a single thought; getting off this God-forsaken rock. And while he found himself unwilling to kill Tolaris, he was pretty sure that he could strangle the life out of T'Pol.

'You know, I think if someone were going to fight in a life and death struggle for my very being, I probably let 'em. I mean, just as a professional courtesy,' Trip thought flippantly as he stepped through the hatch, searching for the first aid kit.

After fumbling through the darkness in vain, he finally turned on the interior lights, which instantly revealed the kit's location. He hastily initiated the shuttle's pre-flight start up, quickly finding relief from the sweltering heat in the vehicle's air conditioned atmosphere. Trip made his way back to the threshold with every intention of tending to his wounds. But as he sat down on the ledge of the hatch, his exhausted body collapsed back on the metallic floor.

Trip had no idea how long he'd been sleep before he finally awoke, his only indication being the Vulcan sun's steep declination from its zenith, well into the daily descent towards the horizon. Attempting to regain his bearings, he quickly located the med kit as the pain in his shoulder quickly returned. But as he went to open the case, he was shocked to find T'Pol dutifully kneeling just outside the door.

"What are you doing here?" Trip demanded capriciously.

Not surprisingly, she offered no response.

He tried to ignore her, returning his attention back to the medical kit and the pain killers located within. But her form remained in his periphery as attempted to load the hypospray with his one good arm. Frustrated by his futility, Trip whipped his head back around to T'Pol.

"If you're just gonna sit there, at least help me reset my arm," Trip requested.

T'Pol rose gracefully to tend to his shoulder.

"OK, on three," Trip directed, taking calming breaths in anticipation of the unavoidable pain. "One. two."

SNAP!!!

For the third time today, Trip's screams pierced the Vulcan desert.

As the pain gradually subsided, Trip looked at the Vulcan in annoyance. "What part of 'on three' didn't you understand?" he asked, slowly massaging the relocated joint.

"I only did as you wished Commander," she replied dispassionately.

"You're supposed to wait until I said three," he reiterated.

"But Commander, would that have not been a count of four?" she contested.

Trip just shook his head in resignation as he turned his attention back to his other wounds. But his eyes betrayed him once more as they wandered back towards T'Pol, who was kneeling once again.

"OK T'Pol, what gives?" Trip asked in obvious confusion.

"I am fulfilling the treatise of the Ka-li-fee," she replied. "I believe the accurate human assessment would be 'to the victor go the spoils.'"

"And you are the spoils?"

"After a fashion. I am your property to be precise, or your wife, if you prefer," T'Pol meekly announced, the last sentence rolling off her tongue with uncharacteristic ease. The thought of being attached to this human in a permanent fashion warmed her soul in a most illogical way.

"My what!?" he asked in wide-eyed disbelief, knowing full well that he had heard T'Pol perfectly.

"Your wife," she repeated, her eyes suddenly wrapped in Trip's countenance as she looked up at him through her lashes.

It was a disarming pose as Trip could feel his seething anger melted away from her gaze. He strove to retain his aggression, but for the past six months, T'Pol's big brown eyes somehow had a soothing effect on his psyche. "Get up T'Pol."

T'Pol gracefully rocked onto the balls of her feet, and with her hands on her knees, pushed herself upright.

"Look T'Pol, I don't own you. Like I told you before, humans did away with that form of servitude centuries ago," he said, choosing to address the first part of her proposition.

Normally, T'Pol would have countered Trip's remark by stating how steeped in tradition Vulcan mating rituals were. But seeing how his humanity had just granted her freedom, she instead decided to graciously accept his generosity. "Thank you Commander," she said, sitting next to him on the ledge.

The latter half of T'Pol's statement proved to be a little more difficult to circumnavigate for Trip, as part of him did prefer the idea of her as his wife. But it was a misguided indulgence, as the union was one of circumstance. The only way he could ever truly love T'Pol as his wife was through her own willingness. "Besides, I know I'm the last guy you would ever wanna be married to," he added jokingly.

T'Pol chose not to contest his analysis.

As his bitterness and contempt for the situation subsided, Trip was still left with one burning question. "T'Pol, why didn't you tell me it was to the death?" he asked as he turned to face her.

She knew he would ask, he had every right to. But the anticipation of his question in no way prepared her to respond. "I was.afraid," she answered hesitantly.

"Afraid of what?" Trip inquired further.

"Afraid that if you were aware of the seriousness of the matter, that you would not have elected to be my champion," she confessed. T'Pol knew her answer was weak, knew that she had been weak for even involving him so intimately in her life.

Trip desperately wanted to understand her position, but he couldn't, based on one distinct possibility. "T'Pol, what if he had killed me?"

"I do not know," she conceded.

The two sat in familiar silence as the day slowly began to give way to dusk. T'Pol's mind struggled for a logical answer to Trip's query, but to no avail. Discouraged, she decided to distract herself with something purely un-Vulcan; idle conversation.

"Commander, I was unaware of the fact that you were fluent in Vulcan."

"I not," Trip admitted. "I just know what people are sayin'. I can't speak a lick of it."

"Surely you know one or two phrases."

"Oh no you don't," he warned her. "The last time you pleaded with me to do something, I pissed off your father and I ended up with three broken ribs. Besides, with my accent, I'm murder on Vulcan vocabulary. Surely you don't wanna hear that?"

"Yes." She simply stated.

Trip decided to acquiesce, but he was at a loss of what to say. While he was remarkably adept in understanding Vulcan, speaking it was an entirely different matter. As he silently thumbed his way through the handful of Vulcan phrases in his mind when he was struck with a daring idea. It would be wonderfully simple, yet quite poignant.

Swallowing his pride, Trip turned slowly towards T'Pol, looked her straight in the eyes and spoke. "Ashau nash-veh du."

T'Pol's response was immediate, his words causing her to cringe visibly. She should have assumed that his first words to her in Vulcan would be the most illogical ones in her language.

"I told you my accent was horrible," Trip joked, fully aware of the real source of T'Pol's discomfort.

"How long have you felt this way about me?" she asked.

"For about six months now," Trip responded. "Look T'Pol, I didn't mean for this to happen, it just kinda did," he expounded, but his explanation did little to placate the perplexed expression that adorned her face.

To her credit, T'Pol quickly regained her composure from Trip's unsolicited admission. "Why would you allow yourself to indulge in such a concept?"

"It's love T'Pol. It's not bound by logic and reason," Trip retorted, assuming that she was challenging the emotion.

"That was not what I was referring to. What is illogical is how you could fall in love with someone who is incapable of reciprocating the feeling?" T'Pol said despondently.

"How do you know you're incapable of love?"

"Because I am Vulcan, Commander," T'Pol countered sternly. "If we were to engage in a relationship, I would never be able to return your affection in kind."

"I know that T'Pol, but that's something I can accept. It's no different from when you asked me to be your champion. It just requires a little faith. Just give me a chance," Trip replied, undaunted by her response.

His stubbornness was leaving T'Pol little recourse. She desperately wanted him to understand the impossibility of a relationship. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate all that he had done for her and she cared a great deal for him. But what he proposed was at too great a cost. Did he truly understand what he was asking of her?

"On the contrary Commander, while there existed a slim possibility of you defeating Tolaris, the chances of me ever loving you are far more remote," T'Pol challenged, but her statement was inaccurate. The possibility did exist, but only at the expense of her very being.

In that split second before she continued, T'Pol realized that Trip had risked his very life for her. Was what he asked of her really that much of a sacrifice?

Yes.

She chose to stay her present course, knowing full well how her monologue would be received as she stood up. "Will you love me, when I don't respond to your kisses, or when I shy away from your touch? Could your love endure knowing that you will never see me smile or hear me laugh? Do you believe that I could ever truly be content?" T'Pol said, aware of the callousness of her tone. She watched as Trip bent his head woefully, her words slowly sinking in.

Trip knew she was right. This very conversation had played in his dreams on several occasions, but none were as painful as this. He silently chuckled to himself as he realized the obviousness of the truth.

His laughter proved to be a source of confusion for the former science officer, for laughing was an acknowledgement of something funny. But she was hard pressed to finding any humor in the current situation, or her words.

"Commander, why are you laughing?"

Trip looked up into her face out of the corner of his eye, her expression one of genuine bewilderment. To him it was just another source of amusement to add to his mounting self-deprecation. What in the hell was he thinking admitting his true feelings to her? To even harbor any sort of emotions for her in the first place? It was asinine thing to do, completely stupid and undeniably human.

"Don't worry about it T'Pol, you wouldn't get it. Besides you've already made it pretty clear that you want nothing to do with me and my emotions."

He was closing her off. After so many years it appeared that their friendship was coming to an end, and the blame was completely hers. She had knowingly chosen to hurt her friend, all in an attempt to save herself. She leaned over and placed a well intentioned hand on his good shoulder, with the sincerest hope of offering him some small measure of comfort.

She intended to simply kiss him on the top of his head, to somehow atone for the grief she had caused him during the last day and a half. As she bowed her head down towards the crown of his, she closed her eyes, expecting her lips to pass through several strands of hair before they arrived at their intended destination. But what she encountered was far more sensual.

T'Pol was sure that he couldn't see her approach. The probability of him actually looking up at her was relatively slim she deduced. But that was exactly what he did. She stood in wide-eyed disbelief as electricity coursed through her body as their lips met. Logically, she should have pulled away, as she had intended on only proffering a chaste consolation. But the lip-lock persisted and deepened into something more. She reasserted her position, engaging his lips once more in fevered passion as her arm traveled down his body. She was inexorably drawn closer as his arm traveled up her form. Her skin was set ablaze as he cupped the flare in her hips, the arch of her back and the curve of her chest. It was a level of passion that she had only experienced in her dreams, and it was every bit as damning.

She needed to free herself, but her body remained steadfast in its indulgence, as his hand gently caressed her face. His fingers slowly began to creep back towards her ear, causing her to pulling away as soon as they crested the tip, her breaths deep and haggard. She looked back down at Trip with an expression as telling as her actions.

"Not responsive to my kisses huh?" Trip accused, immediately recalling the Vulcan's earlier statement.

He rose in pursuit, but she shot him a look back that conveyed her desperation, stopping his advance. Though he knew the truth, T'Pol knew that she had to remain steadfast.

"Charles," she pleaded, "if you truly love me as much as you say you do, then you will understand why we cannot be. Why I must leave."

He was once again captured by her gaze, a mix of desire and fear. The passion that she had just conveyed was more telling than any words she could ever speak. She could give him what he wanted, capable of emotions, passions and desires. But she wouldn't be the woman he loved, wouldn't be the Vulcan he knew.

Trip conceded, realizing that he could never ask her to give up the very thing that made her who she was, her heritage. He raised his arm, extending his hand out in the traditional Vulcan parting. "Dif-tor heh smusma, T'Pol."

T'Pol stepped closer, mimicking his actions; their fingers were inches from each other but miles apart. "Peace and long life, Charles."

She wanted to stay there longer, to lace her fingers between his. But she fought her emotions, quickly snatching her arm back from Trip's. T'Pol clasped her hands behind her back, closed her eyes, turned and walked away.

Trip just watched in anguish as the love of his life faded into the Vulcan sunset.

~FINIS~

A/N: First I would like to apologize for the lengthy delay in completing this story. The point of this story was to be a foil of 'A Tryst for Two' with one being mostly from T'Pol's prospective and the other (this one) from Trip's. I wanted to show the positive and negative's of a relationship between my two fav ENT character's Trip and T'Pol. I thank all of y'all for my patience. I hope to crank out another one in time for the contest, we'll see.

Vandiver49

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A whole mess of folks have made comments

I really enjoyed this story but sappy little shipper that I am I hated the ending! Oh T'Pol, how could you leave him like that? Please, please, please write a sequel and put things right between them. It can't end like this....
Ali D :~(

Boo! I hate sad endings.

It was a wonderful story, but I can't stand the ending. I'm begging you, please write a sequel. I don't care how you do it, just make it right, make them together! PLEASE?

Awwwww... are ya trying to make me cry?!?!?! I loved the story but... T'Pol and Trip are meant to be!

beautiful story :) but I'd love to read a sequel ... :)

Vandiver, just a few days ago you commented warmly on a story of mine and remarked, that you'd look forward to the next one I wrote. This is a coincidence too funny not to mention, because at the time I *was* writing a story which is actually a re-write of this one! Can you believe it? :-)

I loved "Sweet Sorrow", it's really great. Especially the description of the ritual itself is energizing. So energizing, in fact, that I wanted to write my own take on it. So I guess, the words "your story has been an inspiration" are quite literally true. Thank you!

I was looking at the archives of some of the older stories and I ran into this little fic. I must say I loved this to death! I hope you write more stories here... your a wonderful writer!

you could write a story like "10 years later Trip returns to Vulcan to see T'pol"

I think you are confussed. It's supposed to say 'And they live happily ever after, THE END'

Liked the story. Not thrilled with the ending, but... curious about how the little fact that according to Vulcan law, T'Pol is Trip's wife is supposed to be handled? Hmmm...