Posted by Civilian Jal’na Sherko of House Noggra (Head of Physical Therapy - Sacred Heart Hospital) in Challenge Accepted (Tag Urg’tohn)

Posted by Civilian Urg’tohn, Son of the House of Duroc (Klingon Warrior) in Challenge Accepted (Tag Urg’tohn)

Posted by Civilian Jal’na Sherko of House Noggra (Head of Physical Therapy - Sacred Heart Hospital) in Challenge Accepted (Tag Urg’tohn)
Posted by… suppressed (22) by the Post Ghost! 👻
Jal’na had started her day by cleaning up the the remnants of the impromptu gathering that had lasted well into the early hours of the morning. Ah but there really wasn’t much to tell much to the disappointment of her friends. She was sure tonight they would be hoping for many more details. Or maybe they would wait and ambush her tomorrow like they had Yavia and Sharah. But many more exciting things were happening today than swapping tales with her friends.

She wasn’t too thrilled about a ground car being sent for her. Jal’na preferred to walk, but it was a gesture that would be rude to refuse. Jal’na was wearing a heavy forest green dress that had black sleeves, and a high neck. Shoulders, sleeves and collar were edged in copper accents. Her waisted was wrapped in a very wide black leather belt with matching accents. Her broach marking her as a member of House Noggra was pinned to a black padded, baldric like accent draped from her left shoulder to her right waist.

The requested yarn and ingredients for the pesto were packed in a bag that she slipped over her shoulder. She took the lift down to the main floor and spoke briefly to the guard in the lobby before exiting and making her way toward the street.

Jal’na

The slider was waiting for her outside. Emblems on the door marked it as an embassy vehicle of House Duroc. An armored Klingon stood outside and set his fist on his chest as she approached. “Jal’na of House Noggra. Lord Duroc sends his greetings.” and they opened the door for her.

“Thank you,” Jal’na returned the salute and slipped into the car. They didn’t offer names and the ride was excessively quiet. It didn’t so much bother her as she noticed the stark contrast to her very boisterous friends. Then she supposed they were quite busy doing their job. Many attempts had been made on the Lord of House Duroc. It was his slider after all.
Once she was inside, the door closed and the slider began moving. It took about twenty minutes to get to the House Duroc Embassy; and when they arrived the idea went last the main gate and co tinued around the corner, coming up to the rear of the imposing structure. A vehicle gate slid open and they drove through and then down a ramp and under the embassy grounds to a subterranean parking garage. Scanners went over the slider as it entered and then red lights indicated the vehicle was cleared to park. Once stopped, the guard opened the door for Jal’na and escorted her to a turbolift. “Lord Duroc will meet you on level four in the kitchens.” and he nodded once and then stood by the door. Theft opened and a second guard, a human, set his hand on his chest and then wordlessly activated the lift and took her up.

When they finally stopped and the door opened, Jal’na was ready to get out. She decided she did not like riding in such contraptions at all. She was used to moving, and perhaps the anticipation of seeing Urg added to that need to not sit idle.

The doors opened onto a scene of chaos and a cacophony of noise. The ‘kitchens’ were massive. Dozens of individuals ran back and forth and yelled orders and needs to each other. At the center of thee chaos stood a female Orion and Lord Duroc himself. Urg saw her and smiled, and there was an aspect to it that was thus far unfamiliar to her in it. He waved her over and said over the din “Jal’na of House Noggra. This is Kishet. She is the chef. She is ready for you to show her how to make pesto. Please… allow me.” and he took the bag from her shoulder, his fingers lingering as he slipped the bag off.

His smile was returned as she made her way across the chaos of the kitchen. “Lord Duroc,” and he took her bag before she could say more in greeting. Her gaze held his as his fingers lingered. “My thanks.” Jal’na turned to the woman, “Well met, Chef Kishet.”

Kishet inclined her head and said “Welcome to the House Duroc kitchens. We operate all day, every day. There is never a time we aren’t cooking. Many mouths and a higher than average hunger.” and she smiled an energetic smile. “And we wouldn’t have it any other way.”

They walked over to an empty table. “I have some business to attend to that cannot wait. Please… take your time. Kishet is a friend, and she will be a most willing learner. She will bring you to me when you are done.” He set his hand on Jal’na’s arm for a long moment as he looked at her, and then he simply turned and walked away.

Kishmet watched him leave, and then she turned and smiled at Jal’na. “Do not take offense. He has to speak to the Council. So… pesto, is it? I haven’t heard of it. Please… show me.”

House Duroc

Jal’na grinned, all sharp teeth, “I would not take offense to anyone doing their duty.” She flipped open her bag and began to remove containers. “Pesto is a sauce first made in Italy, Earth. It can be used for many things. It only takes 5 minutes to make. It can be chopped and mixed by hand, but I have found using a food processor provides a more hearty texture. Blending makes it too wet.”

Jal’na glanced at the size of the kitchen, they would need much more than what she brought, but it was enough for today. “This amount will yield a cup of pesto sauce.” She handed Kishet a piece of paper with the recipe on it. “First we will toast the pine nuts. This step can be skipped, but the flavor is not the same if you do.” Jal’na poured the nuts into a skillet and stepped back. “They toast very quickly. You want them browned but not black.”

“Dried basil works, but I found fresh mixes more easily and gives the sauce a richer green color.” Jal’na dumped the basil, parmesan, salt, pepper, and peeled garlic into the processor. Then when ready the toasted pine nuts. “Then we let the processor chop it. I add the olive oil a little at a time while everything is in the processor. Until it is well mixed, but is the consistency of a spread or thick sauce.”

When it was finished, Jal’na tasted it and nodded to herself. “Please try it.”

Jal’na

Kishet was silent the entire time, but her attention was razor-focused… no small feat considering the organized chaos around them. When it was all done, Kishet took a small spoon and sampled the pesto. She was silent a moment, thoughtful, and then she said “Savory and earthy… with a hint of citrus. It’s delicious.” and she smiled at Jal’na. “Very good, Doctor. And how would this be traditionally served? You said sauce and Italy, so pasta? Meat? Fish?”

House Duroc

“I understand that it is used much like a tomato or alfredo pasta sauce. It can be used directly on the pasta or used to flavor meat or fish of any kind. It also goes well spread on flat bread or used as an alternative pizza sauce. I cannot attest to the success of other pairings, but I enjoy it on baked chicken. I understand it is also quite good when grilled on chicken or fish. The man that I buy my basil from says it is quite delicious when used to make chicken salad and then stuffed in portobello mushrooms.”

Jal’na

Kishet smiled and said “Excellent. I xan’t wait to try it out!” and she wiped off her hands and said “Now… let’s get you to Lord Duroc.” and she led Jal’na out of the kitchen.

A secondary set of lifts were apparently in the rear of rhe building to facilitate staff and House member movement. It was to these that Kishet led her and they stepped inside. As the lift began to move, Kishet looked Jal’na up and with her peripheral vision. “We are all indebted to Lord Duroc, you know. He has done so much for us… individually and as House Duroc.” she said softly as she stared at the display of levels being counted up. “And I promise…” and she smiled a beautiful smile at Jal’na, “…if you hurt him in anyway… we will make sure your body is never found.”

House Duroc

Jal’na turned to look at the woman silently for a moment. Then she grinned, a whole hungry and mischievous look. “That will be quite a conundrum then. Klingon courtship and mating is quite vigorous. Getting hurt is expected.” Then she turned fully to the woman, her expression serious as she gave a firm nod, “But should I hurt him such a way as you suggest, I would expect and deserve nothing less.” Jal’na thought the threat was a given. If the woman felt the need to express it, it only confirmed the conclusion that Jal’na had already come to.

Jal’na

Kishet smiled and said “Then I look forward to serving you, Jal’na of House Doggra.” The doors to the lift opened and she said “Lord Duroc will be here momentarily. Please make yourself comfortable.”

Jal’na nodded, “Thank you, Kishet.” She stepped off the lift and looked around the large room. Making her way around she paused to look at the various trophies and banners.

The room was a large one, stone and dark wood,, dominated by a round table set in the middle of the room. Banners and tropies hung on the walls, and agree fireplace was opposite the lift doors, behind a large rug made of the skin of some slain beast with two large, leather covered chairs sitting and facing the fireplace at an angle. A set of large doors was visible left of the fireplace, and it was these doors that swung open and Lord Duroc entered the room. He saw Jal’na and smiled. “Welcome. I hope your time in the kitchen was productive. Please come and sit.” and he indicated one of the chairs in front of the fireplace.

Lord Duroc

He was suddenly there, quite literally larger than life, and Jal’na smiled. Her heart pounded harder and she inhaled deeply as her eyes traveled over him. Yes, she was happy to see him. She moved toward the chairs, “I believe it was. Kishet seems eager to try the sauce in her kitchen. I will be pleased if she enjoys using it.” Jal’na sat in the chair, setting her bag down beside the chair. “Have you concluded your business? Pesto does not take long to make, I am content on my own if you have not.”

Jal’na

Urg sat and said “I have cleared my calendar for the rest of the evening. Barring and emergency, I am all yours.” and he grinned. “Would you care for drink? Or shall we simply talk for a time?” he asked.

Urg, Lord Duroc

Jal’na’s mind went to places it really should not, not yet anyway. All hers was a heady prospect. “A drink, please. And what topics are on your mind tonight, Urg?”

Jal’na

Urg fetched two large goblets of blood wine and handed one to Jal’na before seating himself. “I wish to know more of you. And I wish to know what you have been thinking about as this evening came closer.” he said as he took a drink.

Urg, Lord Duroc

Jal’na took the goblet and drank. She had thought many things. Mostly about whether she had the courage to be Urg’tohn’s mate in the end. She would not simply be his mate, she would be the lady of his house. The first as he was the first Lord Duroc. She feared, she knew, she would not be enough. She feared losing herself and her life, her work, to the obligations required of her to his house. But a Klingon did not admit to such things. “Making sure I brought all the items you requested. That all my work was finalized so our evening would not be ended by being recalled to the hospital. You said you would show me my your world, and I have been wondering what that looks like and what that will mean in the future. If you too were anticipating tonight.”

Jal’na

Urg’s eyes narrowed and his eyes seemed to bore into her very core. A small smile spread across his lips and he said “You were scared.” To say such a thing to any Klingon was tantamount to stabbing their mother in front of them while laughing. But Urg held up a hand to silence any protest or anger. “Do not take offense. I was, as well. And if you were not, I would consider that a sign that this was not to be.” He took a drink and then said “Tell me why, if you are willing to admit to such things. And know that I do not find fear a weakness… I find the inability to acknowledge fear, to be unable to admit to it, to be a flaw in our people. Fear is not weakness, it is survival. Weakness is allowing the fear to dictate to you. And when I hear one of the prattling old dull-toothed idiots in the Council squawk about being ‘fearless’, I always laugh. Because being unable to admit you are afraid is just being afraid to be afraid. Its pointless.”

Urg, Lord Duroc

Jal’na didn’t squirm and she didn’t look away from his gaze, but it was uncomfortable how he saw things, they way he seemed to look into her. Was that just her or was he like that with everyone? He certainly acted as if he saw more than Dr Fayth expected. She wasn’t sure she could get used to that. But always being comfortable didn’t allow for growth, and it certainly didn’t make for an interesting life.

Urg had strange notions for a Klingon. Well perhaps not so strange, but not in the majority. Lord Noggra held similar views, or at least she thought he did. She certainly wasn’t privy to his thoughts or an advisor. She thought his actions and behavior towards others spoke of his different views. And he wanted her to tell him. She supposed such inimacies were expected and natural between a wife and her husband, but before? She had given her word to give the full effort and consideration his challenge deserved.

“I fear I do not have the courage to be your mate in the end, Urg. I would not simply be your mate, I would be the lady of House Duroc. The first of your house. I fear I will not be enough. Of losing myself, my life, my work, to the enormity of those obligations. I have heard the stories about the types of people you take into your house.” She held up a hand, it was not an accusation, just an observation. “I have no great struggles that I have over come, nothing I am running away from, or glory I am searching for. I would need to be both a good mate and a lady worthy of running your house and standing by you in such a capacity.” Jal’na only ever wanted a simple life and the prospect was more than daunting.

Jal’na

Urg was silent a moment, contemplative. Yet his eyes stayed fixed on hers… and again the fires could bee seen in the dark depths. “You say that you fear not being enough. That shows wisdom. Forethought. And a care for things outside of yourself. That shows me, at least, that my impression of you is the correct one. As to the fear of you losing yourself and your life? I promise you your life would be your own. Should it come to that, and we are mated, your life would change… but I promise to do everything in my power to ensure that you gain… not lose. As to your work, you are a doctor. I can see no reason why that would change. Besides, we have need of medical care often!” and he laughed.

Urg, Lord Duroc

Jal’na drank as he spoke, but her gaze didn’t waiver. Last night she found it easy to meet his gaze, to be brazen and not back down from a man the excuded so much power. To be relaxed and at ease on his presence. Even when his roars of outrage over the auction drew silence from the floor below Jal’na was not intimidated or afraid of him. Sje had only had the desire to ease the fire in his eyes. To advise him honestly and then let him do as he wished…maybe. Tonight, she found it still easy to meet his gaze, doing so willingly. However, the flames in his eyes seemed to confirm the feeling in her gut that the stakes were much more now. To be lady of a house was no simple thing, but she could learn those duties, and do them well. At least she felt she had the determination to do so. Not being enough for the lives she was responsible for did frighten her. But more frightening was what it meant to be the mate of Urg’tohn, not Lord Duroc, but the man. Would she be enough? Attraction, and there was more than enough, was one thing, but not all. But that was why she was here, to determine if they both wished to continue along this path together.

She listened and absorbed his words, laughing deeply at his joke. She drank heavily from the cup. He said he found no weakness in fear, and that he too was or had been afraid. Why not ask him. Perhaps it would give her insight into her own. “Will you tell me what about this you are afraid of Urg?”

Jal’na

There was no amount of hesitation or pause in his response. “I am afraid of the unknown. Of you in this place and this House. Of it not being what you want, and my desire to see you here being turned down. And I fear that I will be too much for you. I am not an easy one to get along with, I know. I am stubborn. Brash. Probe to anger. I do not want that… me… to drive you away. That is the most. That I am not good enough for you.” and he drained his drink and stood to get the pitcher to refill both.

Urg, Lord Duroc

Jal’na smiled, just slightly. “You fear you are too much and I fear I am not enough. Do you suppose, Urg, that our words will be put to lyric in an Opera some day? Of the next great Klingon love story?” She drained the rest of her cup.

Jal’na

Urg grinned and filled her cup as he said “The poets would be missing a glorious story if they fail to do so.” He filled his own and looked at her over the rim as he drank. The fire in his eyes burned still, and he took a long pull. He then set the cup down and reached and took hers, setting it aside as well. He then then took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. His hand shot forward and he grabbed her under her shoulders and yanked her up and out if the chair and held her off the ground and he smashed his face to hers; a combination of a kiss, bite, and head-butt.

Urg

Jal’na was watching him as he moved around the room. Her gaze, even when she meant to look away seemed drawn back to him. When he took her cup she was curious. When he exhaled a harsh breath she was more curious. That curiosity turned to startlement and and a feeling if ‘oh crap’ when he yanked her bodily from the chair and held her aloft like a rag doll. Had she misjudged the label of insane? His head moved quickly towards hers. *Now? We’re doing this now?…oh…kay” She had a half second to realize exactly what his intention was before those perfectly sculpted cranial ridges slammed into her own.

Jal’na growled at him in response to his kiss/bite. Her nails, like claws, scratched as she gripped at the juncture of his neck and shoulders, encouraging, as she kissed him in return. When it ended, she looked at him her eyes smoldering, she snarled softly, and then she bit his cheek.

Jal’na

Urg growled in pain and anger… and desire. He grabbed her by the front of her dress and lifted her off the ground with his left arm. His right hand grabbed her right forearm and he yanked it hard to his face, sniffing her wrist and growling again as he stared at her, the fire in his eyes now drowning out the darkness of his pupils. He then squeezed her wrist, his nails piercing her flesh as rivulets of pink blood came forth and ran down his hand and arm. “Be. Mine.” he said. And it wasn’t a request.

Urg

Blood beaded along his cheek and she inhaled his scent deep into her lungs. He could feel the shudder, not fear but desire, that tore through Jal’na as he yanked her wrist to him. She breathed heavily, gaze riveted to his face and hand gripping her wrist. His grip was implacable and tightened roughly. She hissed sharply and then snarled as his nails pierced her skin. The flames in his eyes reflected the heat inbher blood. “Yes,” her chin raised slightly, “And you are mine,” acceptance, aquessence, and passionate demand.

Jal’na

Urg smiled and said “And no others. And death be swift to anyone seeking to undo what has been done here.” He released her arm and grabbed a cup of the blood wine and poured it over the lacerations in her arm. He then held his right arm to her and said “Finish. Mark me as yours, and may the scars on my flesh instill fear in anyone who seeks to keep me from you.”

Urg

The wine burned as it ran in rivulets over the proof of his claim. She gripped his wrist tightly, her nails creating 5 crescent shaped cuts along his wrist. “And the marks of your claim make any who would take me from you, run as cowards.” Jal’na’s gaze never left his as she lowered her face to his wrist and sniffed as his blood ran over her fingers and his wrist and down her arm. She inhaled deeply, “I will recognize your scent anywhere and always will it call to me.”

Jal’na

Urg grinned and said “Of all the scars I carry with pride, these will be my highest honor.” He took the wine and poured it down his arm, savoring the burn as the potent drink filled the open wounds. He slowly sat Jal’na down, and then he took her chin in his hand and lowered his head so their ridges were pressed against each other. “Know this… I give myself to you without reservation or expectation. Your life is yours to live as you see fit. I will lay no claim to you in public, nor will I demand your House acknowledge our union until you decide that is what you want. Until that day, you will remain Jal’na of House Noggra. But… you belong to me. We are sworn by blood. And I will take none to my bed save you for the rest of my days. You belong to me. And I belong to you. My honor is your honor. You honor is my honor. And never will I deny you.” and he kissed her again, this time with more than laying claim to her, but instead with a depth of affection that was almost unnatural in Klingons.

Urg