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 (56) 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 in her 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

Perhaps Jal’na had lived too long away from other Klingons, or perhaps the joke about Klingons and poetry were more accurate. Klingons were fiercely, wildly passionate people, in all aspects of their lives they felt deeply. Love and affection no less deeply than desire and honor. She felt his words to her core, the truth of them, the binding of them. The gentleness of his words and fiercely open affection called to her just as strongly as his primal intensity. She gripped his upper arms tightly, just below the shoulders, as he kissed her. When he would have pulled away, her finger gripped him tighter and she bit his lip with a purr. An invitation, a demand, that he return to her as often as they pleased. Then with her ridges still pressed to his, “I belong to you, Urg as surely as you belong to me. I would not have given you my oath if I was not certain of that. No amount of time will change that.” She breathed deeply, his scent filling her again. “Show me your world, how our lives will change, teach me of your house and the people in it. Tell me who is Lord Duroc so that I can strive to be his Lady. But more than that, I want to know the man, the Warrior, that only I will see. Then I will come and stay with you, for a few days, and after if you still wish it declare your claim as publicly as you wish. I will stay with you as your mate and wife. But from this moment forward I will give you and only ever you my oaths of commitment and marriage.”

Jal’na

Urg didn’t speak, but he kissed her again. And just before he pulled away, he bit her lip, drawing blood. He then looked at her for a long moment… his eyes, not ones on fire… and he lowered his lips to hers and lickrd her lip clean. He inhaled deeply and then growled in her ear “I know your scent and have tasted your blood. There is nowhere you can go that I cannot find you now. And know that I will always come for you when you call. The bond we share can only be broken by you. No force in the Universe is stronger than what we share. Khaless himself is insignificant in comparison to the strength of our union. And it will last far past the times our bones are dust.” He licked her cheek slowly and then pulled back. He looked at her and said “Wait here. I will return.” He turned and walked out of theroom and was back in a moment. He carried a single bracers made of black metal and engraved with the crest of House Duroc. “Until such time as you are ready to be my wife in public-” and he took her right hand in his and slid the bracers over it, clamping it down on her open wounds and sealing off the flow of blood under it, “- then this will show you as a friend of House Duroc. It will allow you access when you wish to come.” and then his hand shot up and wrapped around her throat and his face dropped to hers. “But how I yearn for the day you are mine outside of these walls.”

Urg

Her lip stung and throbbed, and it thrilled her. Such bold enticing words made her blood burn and heart pound, and then he was gone. She stood, eyes wide, nose flared, breathing as if she’d run all day. He took her hand, slipping the bracer onto her wrist. Almost she stayed his hand, telling him not to cover his marks. That she would wear them with honor. But her voice was held quiet, some voice outside herself telling her it wasn’t time yet. To let him taste at least once what it was like to come to her instead.

With speed surprising even among Klingons, he gripped her throat but did not harm. She stared into the gaze of her insane brute, unafraid and unflinching. Her tongue ran along the cut in her lip, and her hand reached out, gripping his collar, drawing him within reach. She pressed forward slightly against his hand and sniffed along his cheek where her bite still bled slightly. Her tongue ran across the mark, tasting, and a sound of recognition sounded deep in her throat.

Jal’na

Urg struggled against himself. The drive to simply have her then and there was almost overpowering… but that was not to be.

Yet.

“Come. Clean your lip and I will fix my cheek. No visible marks to loosen wagging tongues thirsty for gossip.” Heed her to a side of the room and opened a cabinet and pulled out an Emergency Medical Kit. He opened it, pulled out the dermal regenerate, and turned to her. “Here…” and he held the device to her lip and in a matter of moments it was sealed, a minute later there was no trace. He handed the device to her and turned his cheek to her.

Urg

The dull mostly gone throb was quickly gone. Jal’na took the dermal regenerator from him and adjusted the setting. One hand held his chin as the other moved the device over the mark on his cheek. She was precise in her work, but there was a glimpse of the care she gave to it as well. The cuts closed quickly and very soon after his skin was smoothed over as if the mark had never been there. “There.” She turned it off and replaced it in the kit.

Then she turned and strode toward the table. If she did not she would give in to her desire. She lifted her goblet and drank deeply, staring into the fire.

Jal’na

Urg followed suit and downed his drink. Setting the cup down, he said “I told you I would show you my world. Come, then…” and he led her out of the room.

The following five hours were a detailed look inside the workings of House Duroc… including a trip up to Lord Duroc’s ship, the IKS Kvaar’ton. Fourty-two decks tall and over two thousand feet long, it was the single largest ship in orbit above Oed, and dwarfed the vast majority of Star Fleet vessels. Urg explained he actually lived aboard the ship, but spent his working time in the embassy. “It is safer for all involved.” he said.

Jal’na was quiet for the majority of the tour. Speaking only when comment seemed necessary, but she missed nothing. Her eyes were sharp and observant and her keen mind picked up and remembered each detail. In that five hours Jal’na learned a great many things. The House of Duroc was wholly unique and set apart. To the very last one, every member of his house chose to be so. No one was there simply by circumstance of birth and blood. He knew each one, and not just by name. Urg instilled a huge depth of loyalty in them all. That made his house strong, but despite her small exposure to Klingon politics, Jal’na understood why so many on the council were threatened by him. Cowards She listened and learned about each person she met and how and why he ran his house as he did. She saw depths to the man not readily seen behind the walls of violence and insaneness. He was incredibly intelligent with a depth of underlying compassion to those he deemed matter, tempered by brutality to those who wronged any in his house. He had very simple but harsh definitions of honor and value. He made those around him strive to be their best, whether a gardener or a warrior. Her already firm respect for him as Lord Duroc grew exponentially. Her attraction for the man grew and changed, racing hotly through her blood settling heavily in the center of her chest, awaiting acknowledgement.

She contemplated his living arrangements as they returned to the embassy. So they would live together on a ship. Jal’na had never lived anywhere but on a planet, except for her trip to Oed. It would be a change, but she would tolerate nothing less. She would not live separately from her husband joining him only when he wanted company in his bed. There were plenty of women that could fill that need if that was all he wanted. Jal’na believed that in that they shared similar expectations - they would live together in all things.

Finally, they returned to the surface and made their way back to the room they had departed after their… discussion. The table had been set with two place settings. A large, covered dish sat in the middle of the table, with two smaller ones by either plate. Cups of Romulan ale and Blood wine sat together, as did water and some kind of juice. After escorting Jal’na to her seat, Urg sat himself and raised his cup. “To the future.”

Urg, Lord Duroc

Jal’na sat, acutely aware of the bracer on her wrist and the marks hidden beneath that pulsed when she thought of them. The food carried a mouthwatering aroma. She reached for a cup, and raised it, and smiled at him. Flirtation, but More, of greater things to come. “May the bards sing of it, long after we are gone.”

Jal’na

“Oh, I am sure they will.” he said as he took a drink. He sat opposite her and said “Gagh.” and pointed at the bowl. “This-” and he took the lid off and the waft of heady and strong herbs, garlic, and meat filled the air; “- is Cornuvian Boar. They are a brutal and massive beast. I killed this one on a hunt one of the Council members tried to kill me on. He trapped me in the pig’s - the boar, not the Council member- den with a broken spear.” and he laughed and leaned in conspiratorially. “I sent him the beast’s testicles with a note that said ‘I think you need these more than the boar did.’” and he roared with laughter.

Urg

Her hand slapped the table, “Dunqu’! You obviously have no need of them.” Jal’na laughed loudly. The cut of meat was massive, and the fact Urg could fit in the den gave testament to the size of the beast. A mighty warrior with a wicked sense of humor and viscious way of making a point. “You are a skilled hunter.” She raised her glass to her lips.

Jal’na

He roared with laughter and then said “Oh, mine are in fine working order, I promise.” and then he took a drink after giving her a most lecherous gaze. “And I am no great hunter. I am just meaner than the boar.” and he grinned as he carved a large chunk off and gave it to her.

Urg

In her lap her left hand rested over the bracer and twisted it back and forth slightly. Her gaze hot and inviting. “Of that I have no doubt.” She drank deeply as she gazed at him while he carved the boar. She grinned, a somewhat feral look. “I would imagine that being meaner is a requirement when going after dangerous prey.” She stabbed the meat and tore a chunk off with her teeth. Meat was meat, but this had a texture that was unusual but enticing. The herbs and strong garlic were savory. “Kishet is a fine cook.”

“She is. But this was made by me.” Urg said as he bit into a large piece of boar meat.

Coffee colored eyes widened in surprise and delight. He made this. “This is all the more excellent then.” She had truly liked it before, but that detail added a level of flattery to his courtship.

Jal’na lifted the lid off the bowl and watched as the gagh squirmed and writhed around. She dug her fingers in, pulling out and dropping handfuls to loosen the tight mass, before lifting a writhing mass and dropping it into her open mouth. She chewed, swallowed, and then washed it down with the water, to savor the flavor. A grin crossed her face, at a memory.

Jal’na

Urg smiled and said “I have never wished to be a worm so much in my life.” with loud laugh. “And you eat like a warrior. Makes me hungry for more than meat.” Heicked his lips and then took a long drink. “Besides, you taste far better than the boar.”

Ueg, Lord Duroc

Her bronze skin turned slightly copper on her cheeks. A soft snarl of pleasure escaped her lips. Jal’na tore a piece of meat off and chewed it slowly and then followed it with bloodwine. “When I was young, before the age of inclusion, my father gave me my first bowl of gagh. I was both very angry and excited to find that my food fought back when they bit at my cheeks and tongue. I spit them out and retaliated by picking them up one by one and biting their heads off. Then according to my father I threw the dead bodies down and stomped them to a bloody mess on the floor. For many months I demanded gagh for every meal, but I refused to eat anything more than their heads because once they were dead it was no fun. My mother was not pleased. She refused to let me have anything more of the meal unless I ate it all. My mother is an excellent cook and made many things I liked. I was not a happy child to be denied the best parts of the meal.” Jal’na reached over gathered another handful of gagh. “So I learned if I wanted the things that tasted best at the table, to eat all my gagh.” She grinned at him and finished the bowl in two large handfuls.

Jal’na

Urg’s nostrils flared as he watched her cram the writhing mass of worms into her mouth and chew, droplets of blood and juice dripping on her chin. In a flurry of motion, he was sudden beside her, hand clenched on her chin and throat as he bent over and licked her clean in a single motion. He squeezed his hand hard on her for a long moment, and then released her and smiled before returning to his seat. He took a handful of worms and ate them, staring at her as he slowly chewed. Swallowing he said “They taste better being eaten off of you.” and he grinned and took another bite of boar.

Urg

Her heart slammed and made her pukse race where he could feel it in her throat. She didn’t move, she didn’t want to. Jal’na watched him return to his seat across the table. Her eyes smoldering at him. She stabbed a piece of the boar, “I think I may have to try that for myself. Of course the gagh may taste better off of you, but I know you taste better than all of this.” Oh she wasn’t going to make it out of there with that brace still on her wrist. Jal’na was okay with that. She ripped the meat from the knife. “Why do I have the feeling, I may not leave tonight?” And she laughed.

Jal’na

Urg grinned and said “You never have to. The choice is yours… wife.” The last word was emphasized with a stab of the meat with a knife so hard the table shook. “As far as I am concerned, you are almost 3xactlybwhere you should be.”

Urg

Oh she did do that didn’t she? She grinned, she did and she would do it again. She felt it, the truth in his words, in her core, deep in her gut and across her chest. She was almost where she should be. She was torn between marching over there and demanding he take that damndable bracer off, and holding. There was no lack of desire and fire between them, but especially among Klingons there must be more, something stronger to bind a marriage together. Jal’na didn’t have the luxury of having a god tell her the future.

Then a thought occurrd to her, “Oh if we do, I can skip that horrid fundraiser.” She laughed, that would not be her reason to say yes, and that was obvious as she stared at him across the table. She contemplated if they both knew enough to move forward so drastically. She very much wanted that answer to be ‘yes’ that they did.

Jal’na

Urg smiled and said “Oh no. I relish the idea of buying you. What a story for our children!” and he laughed loudly. He then locked her in a gaze of sheer and unwavering want. “And I relish even more the idea that someone would try to win you from me. It would be a grand death for them, I assure you.”

Urg

“That is probably for the best. Shrine would kill me for backing out now, and you would be a widower. And that would be a sad ending to our story. There are so many more exciting things to do.” Children, Urg fighting for her against other suitors, that was the stuff every Klingon girl wishes for when given their jinaq. The idea of Urg doing such a thing made her blood heat. “I would enjoy that, and welcoming you as victor even more so.” Desire filled her gaze as she stared at him for a long time. She wanted to get up from her chair and join him in his. She knew though if she gave in to that want, she would never leave, of her choice, and she would make him take back that bracer.

But if they didn’t stop this flirtation, it wouldn’t matter whatvthey should do. She picked up the Romulan ale and drank deeply. “You have shown me much of your house and the people in it. And I have seen the Lord that they give their loyalty. Tell me of you. Who are you when you go back to your ship, to where you live and you are for a time not Lord Duroc.”

Jal’na

Urg was silent and thoughtful for a long few moments. “I suppose… I am simply me. As you see now. I find pretense and masks to be a waste of time. And there are few genuine people who are who they say they are. I strive to be one of them. Besides, generating a false personality and everything that accompanies it would be tiring. I have no time such.” He laughed and drank the last of his wine before moving to the ale with Jal’na. “I suppose I would make a terrible spy!”

Urg

“It seems a rather tiring and dishonest persuit.” Jal’na laughed. She wasn’t sure how someone of Urg’s stature would blend in and not be noticed anyway. “What do you want for yourself? You have restored Kvaar’ton, brought glory and family into your house, ousted the betrayer, but what do you want for you?” She pointed at him, “You are not allowed to say me.”

Jal’na

Urg’s moth snapped shut as he was about to speak and he grinned. “Care should be taken reading my mind, Jal’na of House Noggra… my voice is not the only one inside here.” and he tapped the side of his head with a finger. “Well, I am not permitted to say you… I will say-“

And thats when the world burned in righteous fire.

Everything in Jal’na’s vision was in flames; all she could see was fire. You have touched him like no other. a voice that filled the universe said. It was almost painful when it spoke, but it seemed a blissful pain. *He is my blood, and now that blood flows in your veins. Heed me, and bring glory to the name Duroc. *

And everything was fine.

”- that I wish to bring glory not only to House Duroc and its people; but also to this place… Oed. It is special, and it needs to be protected.” Urg said and took a drink.

Urg… and Kvaar’ton

Jal’na didn’t catch any of what he said. Instead Jal’na turned the color of creamed coffee as the blood drained out of her face. She was burning…no…the world was burning…or…wasn’t? Was that?…no…nope Absolutely whatever that was, was terrifying. She was not ashamed to admit that to herself. Her mind could not quite wrap around what had happened. It was intellectually one thing to accept that Urg heard such things, and the flames in his eyes were curious, but to be spoken to was another. She had a god’s blood in her veins? No…nope…maybe the Romulan Ale didn’t agree with her? A bad batch or something. Or she was allergic to the meat.

She picked up whatever cup her hand touched first and downed it. It did not help.

Jal’na

Urg’s head cocked to the side and he regarded her with an uncomfortable intensity. “The first time is always the hardest. Don’t worry. It will pass.” He slid another cup to her and said “You are blessed by the Builder. I knew when I first saw you. You, Jal’na… are very special.” and he chuckled and waited until she was in the middle of drinking and then added “And you have the most amazing ass I have ever seen.”

Urg

First time?? As in there would be more???!!! Jal’na lifted the cup and downed the contents. His comment did not have the desired affect. It did not shock her at all. She finished the drink and set it very carefully back on the table. “Of course I do. All the work I put in I have the best ass on the colony, and it is the only one you’re going to look at.” Ahhh…and gone was the earlier tone of flirtation. She shook her head. No, that was the line she didn’t think she was able to cross. Married to a man people called insane, a man that talks to and is guided by his god, the lord of a house, and the obligations that required of her, and a man whose life was constantly being threatened, the danger she would have to live with, the changes to her life all that would bring…those things she thought she could find a way to be, to be the woman that could do those things for him, for Urg. She was giving herself a headache trying to figure out what the hell just happened. “One time…but more?” She shook her head again. No she did not want a god’s blood in her veins, or talking to her. “Urg, I can not be genuine with you and tell you I can handle this. I…” she stopped talking. Cowardly and she knew it, but that was the truth. Her left hand clamped tightly around the bracer in her lap. What the hell was that?

Jal’na

Urg nodded and stood slowly. He came around the table and with the ease of opening a sliding door moved her chair… and her… back from the table and turned her so she was sideways to it. He then something he had never done for anyone…

He knelt before her.

Taking her hands in his, he looked at her and said “I swore to have none other than you for the rest of my days. That is a vow I will hold as sacred for as long as I draw breath. But I know my life is not an easy one. And I would sooner rip out both of my hearts and burn them in a pyre than force you into anything you did not want for your own.” He lowered his head and kissed her hands softly, gently. He then looked up at her and his eyes were pools of darkness, as if the light was being swallowed inside them. “I release you from your vow, Jal’na of House Noggra. Go and be well.” and he stood and went back to his seat, sat down, and began eating slowly… even as the food was so much ash in his mouth.

Urg, Lord Duroc

Jal’na sat quietly for moments. Anger beginning to seethe. Urg told her that even when the demons twisted his form Kvaar’ton’s mate stayed with him. Even as he became something incomprehensible to the mortal mind. Did she fear being able to be strong enough for him? Did it phase her at all? Did she see only her mate and nothing else? Jal’na knew when he told her the story she would have to live up to the expectation, she hadn’t really understood what that meant. But she had struggled quietly with trying to decide if she could. Even knowing she was scared she would shame him, not be enough, she had given her vow anyway. She had given it because Urg’tohn was already twined around her heart. Whether Kvaar’ton showed him it to be so or not.

He said he did not find admitting to fear a weakness. How dare he dismiss her for that when he asked, demanded, she share her fears with him. How dare he release her when she never asked to be, nor thought it. How dare he dishonor her that way. She stood, moving around the table to where he sat…

Urg set his fork down and turned to face her fully, his eyes still drained of light…

and slapped him right across the face.

She grabbed his chin in a startling strong grasp, her nails bitting into his flesh slightly. “You do not dismiss me from my vow. I am your wife, and fear or no fear I will stand beside you anyway, husband.” Her face was mere inches from his, and then she bit him, again, on cheek, hard, drawing thick pink blood to his flesh. Then her tongue soothed the sting as she tasted his essence and inhaled his scent.

Urg growled loudly and clenched his teeth from pain, rage… and an unquenchable yearing for more.

She released him and stepped back, pacing across the room, working the clasp of the bracer. She ripped the offensive thing off her arm, opening not yet closed scabs. “I am your wife within these walls or out!” She roared the declaration at him, and it echoed off the high ceiling. Then she threw the bracer at him, with uncanny accuracy.

Jal’na

The bracer flew true and hit the Lord of House duroc squarely in the face, drawing blood from his nose and splitting his upper and lower lip. Urg roared loudly leapt to his feet. He rushed her, grabbing her around the waist with both arms and lifting her off the ground and then squeezing her so hard her back cracked loudly. “BRAVE WORDS DO NOT MAKE A WIFE!” he yelled loud enough to rattle the wall hangings. “ YOU DESIRE TO BE MINE?! THEN PROVE IT!” and he dripped her flat on the floor and beckoned her. “COME AND GET ME IF I AM WHAT YOU WANT.” and he raised his fists.

Urg

Jal’na crumpled in a heap on the floor with the force with which he dropped her. That did not…well she wasn’t sure what she expected. For Urg to catch it or duck. Begin reciting poetry? That made her almost laugh, but this was not funny. Thrilling, but not funny. She inhaled deeply as she stood the scent of his blood filling the air and roared. Her back twinged as she moved toward him, she grabbed…something…and threw it at him. A pillow, not very effective as a weapon, but it was near at hand, and she was supposed to throw things, right? Jal’na had no expectations of winning or surviving. Urg understood that didn’t he? She was not a fighter, had performed dismally in such pursuits, and one solid blow from a man his size would be enough. He was massive and exponentially stronger than even an above average Klingon. His heart was even greater. Yes he was what she wanted, everything she wanted, and that’s why his words gutted so deeply. Heedless of his greater reach and his massive fists she rushed him with no other thought than she must and he had provided a target for all that built up tension they had created over the hours. She rushed him, reaching out with clawed hands to rake across his torso.

Jal’na

Training. Experience. Practice. Even more experience. A truly unhealthy acceptance of pain. The inevitability of the conclusion was forgone before the pillow hit Urg, again square in the face, and she charged. Massive arms caught her around her upper arms, pinning her arms to her side and lifting her off the ground again. He drew back his head and crashed his forehead ridges into her hard. He then dropped her to the floor again.

The world went flashes of white hot pain. Then black for a brief moment where there was no sensation. Then hot again as she impacted the floor. She snarled, which set her bloodied nose to throbbing. Now she truly had a headache, and she had an impressive gash across her forehead from his ridges. It would bruise too, but at least her back was done protesting.

“AvwI!!” he yelled and a moment later the door opened and four guards rushed in, weapons at the ready.

Urg collapsed into his chair and poured two mugs of blood wine. “Well?! Don’t just stand there! Help up Lady Duroc!” The guards stared for a moment and then one simply said “Of course, my Lord.” Two guards lifted her up and then all four slammed their fists on their chests and bowed.

She didn’t even have a chance to tell them to get their hands off of her, or really come to the conclusion she needed no help when they grabbed her. His guards… oh now what? She shook her head to clear it. Did he say ‘Lady Duroc’? Yes he did. Oh the man had a flair for the dramatic!

Urg waved and they left without a word, but before the door closed the yelling and celebration could be heard. Urg looked at Jal’na and said “Come, wife. Sit on your husband’s lap and tell me of when you knew you loved me.” and he held out a mug of wine with a bloody grin.

Urg, Lord Duroc

Jal’na looked rough staring at him with her face running with blood and then she grinned. Just as bloody as his, which didn’t help. She took the mug and downed half. Then she collapsed onto his lap. When she knew she loved him? That was different than when she began to love him or why. She sniffed his cheek, and kissed it again. “I could not have given you my vow if I did not, but I knew when you put that bracer on my wrist and hated it.”

Jal’na

Urg grinned. “I knew when you came to dinner that first night. And I have not doubted it since.” He drank a healthy amount of wine and the set the cup aside. He picked up a little unused napkin and held it to the gash on her forehead. “Scar or no?” he asked as he wiped the blood from her face. But before she could answer, he pressed his bloodied lips to hers and held her close to him; so close their four hearts were close enough to begin beating in synch.

Urg, Lord Duroc

It wasn’t a competition. Not one Jal’na wanted to die on anyway. He could know before her, he’d told her he knew exactly where this was going because he had a vision or some such. No not thinking about that. That made weird things happen and she’d had enough weird for a life time. He pressed the napkin to her forehead and it was immediately apparent she as going to have to treat it. The bruise was rather large and deep. She grinned, but they wouldn’t let her work for fear she might have a concussion. Which she probably did. He didn’t look so good either with a busted nose, busted lips, and her bite on his cheek. Her palm cupped his jaw and her fingers splayed across his unblemished cheek as she kissed him. Jal’na could feel it, the change in the rhythm of her hearts, and the sound of all four beating in sync filled her ears, drowning out everything else.

“Par’Mach’kai.“

Jal’na

Urg smiled and said “qaparHa’qu…” and he kissed her softly again. Pulling back, he said “Do you wish to treat our wounds? Or do we revel in our badges of love and lust?” while laughing

Urg