Posted by Civilian Jal’na of House Duroc (Head of Physical Therapy - Sacred Heart Hospital) in Sacred Heart Hospital - The Future of House Duroc

Posted by Civilian Urg’tohn, Son of the House of Duroc (Klingon Warrior) in Sacred Heart Hospital - The Future of House Duroc

Posted by Civilian Jal’na of House Duroc (Head of Physical Therapy - Sacred Heart Hospital) in Sacred Heart Hospital - The Future of House Duroc
Posted by… suppressed (49) by the Post Ghost! 👻
As Urg and Jal’na walked down the hallway from the mediator’s office, Urg leaned into his wife. “You know, while I find your new found temper very appealing, it is not you Jal’na. Something is wrong. And you will tell me what it is so I can murder whomever has caused your anger.’

Urg, Lord Duroc

“Qo’!” Jal’na looked both horrified and absolutely livid at the suggestion. She actually reached out to attack him before remembering herself. The outburst drew attention from the assistant at the ward’s desk. She looked up in surprise at Jal’na. “Apologies,” Jal’na said as they walked past. She closed her eyes a moment in reflection, even as her hand rested on his arm. “If you murder the cause of my temper, I will divorce you.” They took the lift back to the ground floor towards her office, “but I must tell you.”

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Utg laughed as they walked into her office. “You can’t divorce me. Your hearts and mine are one. To end us would kill us both.” He flopped into a chair and stretched out his legs and smiled at her. “Now… tell me what fire has lit the flame of your anger.”

Urg, Lord Duroc

Urg wasn’t wrong, but he would understand when she told him. She leaned against her desk, arms folded over her chest as she stared at him. She had managed to convince him they could go, just the two of them. No guards, no slider, no overly attentive ears.

The events replayed in her mind’s eye. Klingons were a strong and sturdy people. But there was one time when a Klingon woman was most vulnerable. “That cursed MakDar,” Jal’na growled referring to Abigail Tenkiller. If her aim had been just a little lower. Jal’na slammed a fist into the desk. It was better than putting it through Abigail’s skull. “I wanted to speak of it two nights ago, but that petaQ. ” Jal’na actually ground her teeth to keep from spiting.

She stared Urg in the eye, unflinching from the flames that were always there. “jIH puq qeng. (I am with child.)”

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Urg looked at her for a long time in silence before he said simply “I know.” His head titled to the side and he said “How does that make you feel?”

Urg, Lord Duroc

Of all the reactions Urg could have given, sitting in calmly with such a simple response was not one of them, and it made her mad. She threw the first thing her hand touched at him. Luckily it was just a bag of resistance bands. No more dangerous than a ball of yarn. Her chin went up with unmistakable pride. “I’m carrying our child in my womb, Urg. How do you think I feel?!”

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

The bag bounced off Urg’s head and into a corner of the room. The giant Klingon didn’t so much as twitch. Slowly, however, he stood up and moved so that he was towering over Jal’na. He looked down at her and then slowly lowered his his head until their cranial ridges touched and he vlosed his eyes. “I think it makes you feel whole… just as it makes me feel the same.” His eyes opened and the fires that always burned in the far back of his eyes roared to the fore.

Jal’na knew what was coming next, but even that knowledge didn’t prepare her.

Suddenly a voice broke into Jal’na’s psyche with the force of a thousand cyclones. “Blessed are you, the mothers. Blessed are the children. Forever and eternally shall I hold you and your blood to me, Jal’na of House Duroc. You will bear your House a son, and he will be named Kvaar’thon. He will be the first of many children; and your House will grow in strength as you instill them the knowledge that compassion is strength, and true honor comes from service to others. Long live the House Duroc.” and in a silent clap of thunder, the presence was gone.

Urg. Lod Duroc / Kvaar’ton the Builder

Her hands dug silently into his forearms as the voice invaded every cell of her being. It did not get easier with repetition. Jal’na still felt like her mind would snap at the touch. The moment she felt she could stand it no longer, it would retreat. Maybe that was why she was angry - she was losing a piece of her mind every time Kvaar’ton spoke to her. She really didn’t think she could handle it over and over.

Her dark eyes looked up into his. Urg was worth it. She would relive the moment he set the medallion on her for eternity to keep her mate. For a moment, at least, the rage was gone. They were going to have a son.

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

The fires in Urg’s eyes retreated and he smiled at her. “The Builder chooses you. But even if he didn’t… I would.” Urg said quietly. The depth of his feelings for Jal’na he had never expressed so clearly and succinctly before. His black-nailed fibers took a grip on her jaw and he lifted her face to his. “Lock your door.” was all he said before his lips met hers.

Urg, Lord Duroc

Jal’na rumbled softly as he gripped her jaw which quickly changed to a welcoming and insistent growl. The sound of the locks engaging came a moment later, followed by her nails scrapping his shoulders.

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Later…

As they lay on the floor covered in a throw from one of the chairs in the office, Urg held Jal’na next to him. As their breathing slowed, he said “You know that, for you, I would burn the galaxy. And if you asked, I would spare it as well.”

Urg, Lord Duroc

“I know, and I would battle all the demons of Gre’thor to get to you.” She let out a long breath, her nails scraping along his chest. The unending sourceless rage of early pregnancy was banished for the moment. “We will welcome our son in 7 months. We will name him Kvaar’thon, Urg.”

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Urg pulled her closer and said “The Builder spoke to you as well. That is good. The more you speak with him, the easier it is. And you have special place within him, wife. He watches over you as he does me and my brothers… and how he will watch over Kvaar’thon.” He smiled and then laughed slightly. “Our House will indeed be strong. And you will be the mother of a great bloodline. I am honored to be able to be a small part of that.”

Urg, Lord Duroc

Jal’na grumbled an amused huff. “It takes two to create a bloodline, Husband. You are the father and no less vital than I. You and your brothers fought for your House and Kvaar’ton. That is no small part. Humbleness does not suit you in this case.”

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

“House Duroc is as strong as the blood that carries it.” Urg said. “My brother’s and I laid the foundation…” and he set his large, scarred hand on her stomach, “… but here is where House Duroc is built.”

Urg, Lord Duroc

So much of the time Urg was Lord and Warrior and ‘insane’ chosen of Kvaar’ton. And then there was the man that was here now, her mate. She loved him with a deep fierceness she had not thought possible. She rested her hands over his. “Our wombs are so easily damaged in the first months of pregnancy. When I consider how easily she could have hit my abdomen instead of my face, I want to rip her head off and use her skull as a cup.” She vibrated with the violence of it.

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Urg laughed loudly. Not in a dismissive way, but in a way that said that was never a concern for him. “When did you become human, Lady Duroc?!” and he laughed again. “You are Klingon. Our stories are filled with tales of pregnant warriors holding the line against insurmountable odds, stopping only to give birth. If our people’s wombs were easily damaged, we would have died as a species millennia ago.” He turned his head and looked at her. “And you forget… you are watched over by The Builder. He will not allow harm to come to you. Of that I have the utmost faith.” The conviction in his voice was palpably unshakable.

Urg, Lord Duroc

Jal’na snarled slightly. “That is when they are ready to give birth. We are a sturdy, strong, and fierce people, but in comparison we are vulnerable in these early months. We do not advertise it because it goes against our myths of being invincible. I believe that is why we are prone to rage early on - to protect the life growing inside it. Once the womb has adjusted to the rapid growth nothing can dislodge a Klingon babe until it is ready.” Urg was quite sure of his faith in Kvaar’ton, but despite her ‘conversations’ with the diety, Jal’na didn’t believe in such divine interventions, or any at all really. She was trying for Urg’s sake and that of their House.

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

“You do not believe in the protection of Kvaar’ton, but trust me… you are safer than any mother in the universe. The Builder will not let anything happen to you or our son.” he said while holding her tightly. “I find it… curious… that you do not yet believe. I know he speaks to you. I have seen it in your eyes. Why do you not accept what your own experience tells you?” His words were not judgmental, just, as he said, curious.

Urg, Lord Duroc

“I don’t doubt his existence. I suppose I have a hard time believing he is benevolent simply for the sake of being so. Why would the lives of mortals matter to him except for his own purposes? I have never seen any diety heal someone. I have seen doctors and patients fight to heal themselves, to win back their lives.” What she was about to say was blasphemous, but Urg had never shied away from Jal’na speaking her mind. It was the truth of her thoughts even if it offended him, though that wasn’t her purpose. “I have no doubt your fate and that of your House matter to him, but if mere mortals can prevent him from reaching Sto-va-kor by hiding his existence, how can he physically protect us from the mortals that would do it again?”

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Urg slowly sat up and looked down at her, his giant hand cradling her head so she was looking at him. “The lives of mortals don’t matter to him. Our lives matter to him… because we are his children.” He locked her with a gaze that refused to let go of her. “I do not mean that as religious talk. The actual blood of Kvaar’ton runs in our veins. Kvaar’ton’s last child, saved by Duroc the Faithful… they are our ancestor. We live because they lived. The name Duroc was taken to honor his loyalty to Kvaar’ton The Builder when he was mortal; and to protect Kvaar’ton’s blood line until we could reclaim our rightful place in Klingon society… as Kvaar’ton himself claimed his rightful place at the side of Kah’les.” His eyes narrowed and he drilled into her very being with his gaze.

“We matter to him because we are his family.”

Urg, Lord Duroc, Son of The Builder

He didn’t have to make her look at him. She wasn’t ashamed nor defiant. It was simply a reflection of his intensity. He had told her this before. She understood why it mattered, why Urg had a god living inside his head. She did not doubt that Kvaar’ton was real (how could she with his voice speaking to her), nor did she doubt that family mattered to him. She just didn’t believe he was capable of protecting her when he didn’t have the ability to prevent the erasure of his existence. It seemed to her that Duroc saved and protected Kvaar’ton’s son, and he alone. Which was why they were House Duroc.

She sat up without breaking his gaze. “I understand that, Urg. It upsets you my belief is not so strong. I do wish that it was for your sake. I could lie and tell you it is, but that would do great harm. I told you when we met that I do not believe in gods. You have lived your entire life with Kvaar’ton as a constant mentor and companion. I have had less than a year. I am not capable of believing blindly, nor do I expect grand miracles and proof of power. In truth those things would make me doubt more. I must come to it in my own time, through my own experiences, to hear the stories and study them for myself. Otherwise it is just empty words. I do not want to fill my children’s hearts with stories that do not carry my convictions.”

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

The vision of Urg suddenly swam before her eyes. It was hard to breathe, as if a great weight had suddenly settled on her chest. She couldn’t speak, and Urg’s face seemed to twist and spiral away from her…

She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t breathe, her mate, Urg’tohn, was gone inexplicably. Jal’na resigned herself to it. Whatever it might be.

The inside of the tent was almost uncomfortably warm. The inside was splattered with blood, pink flecks darkening in the flickering firelight. The bodies of children, their lives stolen in youth with not even in a warriors death; but in a fit of impotent rage, deceit and betrayal. A Klingon woman lay in the middle of the tent floor stained in pink blood across her entire front. She held a knitting needle in each hand. They were tinged with her assailants blood, she had died with glory, she would make it to Stov’a’kor. As Jal’na stood and surveyed the scene, the dead woman’s eyes opened and she took a deep breath… as if she had been waiting to do so for thousands of years. Her head raised up…

And she smiled.

“You have come. Finally. I have been waiting. Help me up, and tell me your name.” and she reached up for Jal’na’s hand.

The Wife of Kvaar’ton

Jal’na surveyed the violence, her hand slid to her stomach as she stared at the bodies of the children. This place was old, very old, thousands of years in their history, if she remembered correctly. Jal’na’s eyes snapped to the dead woman, who was apparently not dead. More spirits.

Well nothing would be gained by ignoring or refusing the woman, no matter how much Jal’na wanted nothing to do with this. Jal’na helped her up, with all the cate and skill of her years of dedication. It did not stop the words of disbelief that left her mouth. “If you have been waiting for me to come, don’t you already know my name?”

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

The woman laughed and said “Being dead doesn’t grant one omnipotence, you foolish girl. And I would remind you to treat your elders with respect, little t’opa.” She flashed Jal’na a look that said she would not brook any back-talk. She took a breath and then waved her hand and the corpses disappeared. She pointed to a pile of pillows on one side of the tent and said “Sit. And then tell me who you are and how you came to be here.” She herself took a seat opposite the pillows in a straight backed dark wood chair. She sat with an air of utmost authority, almost as if she carried some insubstantial aura around her that demanded respect… but her face was kind, and her words (mostly) gentle.

The Wife of Kvaar’ton

Jal’na crossed her arms and gave the woman an amused look. If dead for centuries made one an ‘elder’ then the woman had certainly earned the title. She moved toward the pillows, but she did not sit. She was too agitated to sit calmly, but she could stand. Nor would she rise to the bait of being insulted. Jal’na always felt that was a tactic of someone who needed to feel their power.

“I am Jal’na. And I have no idea how I came to be here or where ‘here’ is. As to why? I am either hallucinating or being taught a lesson for speaking blasphemy.”

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

The ‘elder’ stared at her a long moment and said “You are proud… probably one of the many traits that drew him to you. Tell me about him. The one who brought you to my forever-mates attention. And do sit. I am old and do not feel like craning my neck to look up at someone who can’t be bothered with basic manners.” and she chuckled.

The Wife of Kvaar’ton

“It is also good manners to return an introduction.” Jal’na knelt on the floor, sitting back on her haunches, arms still crossed. Oh Jal’na could guess from her words who she was, but she was tired of spirits and politics and people telling her how to be herself. “He is a man with great responsibility, a strong Warrior, and an insightful leader. He makes others uncomfortable.”

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

The woman clapped her hands together and laughed loudly. “How wonderful! Just like my Kvaar’ton. I am very happy to hear that. Now then…” and she looked directly at Jal’na. “Yes. I am Du’clis, mate and wife to Kvaar’ton The Builder, Slayer of the Nine Demon Hordes, Stonemason of the High Council Chamber, Destroyer of the Iud, He Who Sits At The Right Hand of Kah’less the Unmerciful. I am she that was killed by the traitor the night my husband was killed. The Mother of the Dead. The Defender of Hearth and Home of my House.” She lkeaned forward and smiled at Jal’na. “And you, my child, are not just ‘Jal’na’. You are Lady Jal’na of House Duroc, named for the Loyal One, The Protector, He Who Stayed The Course, He Who Grieved, He Who Saved The Blood of The Builder.” She leaned back but kept her gaze on Jal’na. “And you are bearing your mate’s offspring. Tell me… your husband. What is his name? I can only see the women of now, and all who have passed before.”

Du’Clis, Wife of Kvaar’ton

Yes, Duroc was all those things. “They wanted to ensure that Duroc was honored for his loyalty and protection of the babe that survived. My husband is Urg’tohn and his brothers, Q’ragh and K’Vorth. Named for the loyal three that followed Kvaar’ton to the demon’s gate.”

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

The woman looked at her for a long moment, her head cocked to the side as she looked slightly confused. “Is that what they are saying? Hmmm… interesting. I mean… I suppose it is generally true. But from your tone, I am sensing that you do not put much stock in legend and epic tales of glory and heroism. Am I wrong? Or are you simply tired of spirits and politics and people telling you how to be yourself.” and her eyes filled with a knowing gleam.

Du’Clis, Wife of The Builder

Jal’na shrugged, “My husband and his brothers never knew their parents, nor why they were named. When the hammer was found, and the truth revealed…” she shrugged again, “It is contemplated they were named such by the House as the blood wine flows in the evenings.”

“Legends and myth tell us about our past, they teach us. There is always some grain of truth to them. They serve a purpose. I prefer to interpret the lesson for myself and choose to follow or not of my own choice. Legends and myth are not an excuse to let one’s mind atrophy. And yes I have had enough, but it doesn’t matter my preference, it will continue to happen. I accept that. I don’t have to like it.”

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Du’Clis watched her as she spoke and nodded in understanding as she finished. Then she stood up and walked over to Jal’na and reached down and took her hands. “Come, stand before me Lady Jal’na of House Duroc.” she said quietly and with a great deal of tenderness.

“I, too, felt as you when I was betrothed to Kvaar’ton.” She smiled a smile of deep and abiding love at the memory of her wedding day. “The expectations… the demands… the loss of privacy and the constant barrage of political needs and ceremony and tradition and… and… and all of it was just grinding me down every moment of my life. But then a very wise woman, whom I knew that I should treat with great respect and great honor told me something that changed it all. Would you like me to tell you what she said? Or would you like to figure out the way forward on your own? I will give you that choice, Jal’na.” The use of only her name resonated inside the tent.

Du’Clis, Wife of The Builder

Jal’na stood as bade and listened, but what she thought was anyone’s guess. “I am not so foolish as to refuse to listen when advice is offered.” Taking it was another matter.

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Du’Clis smiled and leaned forward, setting her ridges against Jal’na’s. “She told me that sometimes what we want comes with chains. What we need to decide for ourselves is whether or not the weight of those chains is worth the choice… and whether we are strong enough to carry them.” She chuckled. “The chains that come from loving one such as Kvaar’ton… or his children… are heavy indeed. But the fire that lives within them will for eternity keep you warm. That I can promise you.” She leaned back and smiled at Jal’na.

“That is not advice, that is wisdom I already had. If I hadn’t, I would not have married Urg’tohn.” Spirits she snarled in her head. She had this same conversation with Urg the night they claimed each other. She knew all this, felt it with every beat of her dual hearts. She might struggle with it, but Urg had always been worth it.

And then punched her straight in the face with the force of Urg’s war hammer.

Du’Clis, Wife of Kvaar’ton

Jal’na knew it was coming. Just not when. She didn’t trust this woman who came so intimately close, or her hot and cold demeanor. The Klingon way. She took the hit because there wasn’t much she could do at that range. Despite her ‘combat’ training, she was no better than when she had left Q’onoS. She was who she was. She went down hard, but the pillows cushioned her. As she rolled to her feet, she set her nose and spit the blood filling her mouth. “Need to hit me again to drive home your point? Or maybe it makes you feel alive again?”

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Du’Clis laughed and looked down at Jal’na. “No… nothing can make me feel that ever again. But I didn’t hit you for me… I hit you for you, you spoiled little shit.” She shook her head, her face a mask of disappointment. “You went your life never knowing the true measure of any male. Never feeling that fire you felt the first time you looked into Urg’thon’s eyes. And not the fire put there by my husband, either. You saw his fire… his burning so hot it was like you were standing next to a giant star in the sky and it’s pull was inescapable.” She took her seat and stared at Jal’na. “And your first time together, whether that was a meal or a chance meeting or whatever it was… you knew something about him was different… and it called to you. And you straightened your back and walked I to that fire with your eyes open wide and your blood boiling with passion.” and then she spit on the ground in front of Jal’na. “And now.. now when you have taken that fire into your own body and begun to grow it into a raging inferno… now you decide that everything is garbage and nothing is good and you pout and throw fits and act and think like a rutting targ; seeing everything through the red haze of rage and turning away from your history. Your family. The very foundations of your House. And for what? Because you are too intelligent to believe that such things as this are to be believed?” and she gestured around the tent. “You are an ignorant child, and it shames me to think that you are my blood.” and she shook her head in something worse that disappointment… she shook her head in pity.

Du’Clis, Wife of Kvaar’ton

Jal’na stood, arms crossed, listening to the woman rage at her. Then she threw back her head and roared with laughter. So, despite the woman’s parlor tricks, she wasn’t as omnipotent as she appeared. Jal’na didn’t need to believe in it. Belief was blind to a degree. She knew Kvaar’ton was real. She had experienced his presence. She knew he guided Urg, she knew he cared about his family, and she knew that included the child growing inside her. She knew Urg had complete faith in Kvaar’ton. What she lacked was faith. It was a fine line between the two, but a line nonetheless.

It was a line she hadn’t crossed yet, but she had been moving toward it. She had told Urg just minutes ago, or was it centuries into the future, she didn’t expect grand miracles and proof of power. That those things would make her doubt more. This encounter, sadly, proved her words true. What little growing fire of faith she had was no more than a spark now. Only because Du’Clis was Kvaar’ton’s mate and not Kvaar’ton himself.

Jal’na had wondered about this woman, who she was, what she was like, if there was anything similar between them. The stories said despite the changes battling the demons caused to Kvaar’ton, she had loved him purely, and stayed by his side. Jal’na had admired that, she still did. Perhaps it was her love and loyalty for her mate that was offended by Jal’na’s lack of faith. Jal’na really didn’t know. If it was, she could understand it, but it didn’t change the truth at Jal’na’s core. She told Urg she could lie, but that was dishonorable. Jal’na knew she was a disappointment to many, but she fought with every breath to never bring shame or dishonor to Urg or his House.

Finally, her laughter died, and she simply stood there in the silence.

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Du’Clis watched Hal’na laugh, saw her mind go through the myriad thoughts and saw her faith in what was and what would be dwindle. Oh, the pride in this one is strong. she thought. The Sergeant chose well. She shook her head again, and chuckled a dry, rasping laugh. “You do not listen at all, do you? You stand there and think that I am talking to you now because of who you married. That I am was drawn back from time and death because of him and who he represents. But remember what I just said. That you are turning away from your history. Your family. You dear, sweet, stubborn, targ-headed child…” and she laughed.

Jal’na had no idea why this woman was talking to her, at all. She wanted to ignore that emphasis on your, but this mercurial ghost wouldn’t let her.

“You never asked questions about the history. You never wondered who Duroc would turn to help save my living child?” she shook her head and smiled. “I thought you were supposed to be smart.” The smile faded, replaced by a seriousness that seemed to draw all light directly to herr, so only she could be seen. “I am here to help my blood. Not Kvaar’ton’s. Not our child’s. Not your mate’s. Mine. My blood is your blood, Jal’na. My House is your House.” She stood up and seemed to grow in height and power, and when she next spike her voice was thunder and steel. “I am Du’Clis of House Ho’l, First of the Chosen Two, Bringer of Life and Death… and Sister To Du’Clas, Protector of the One Who Lived.” She stepped forward with a speed that made all time stand still and a massive hand grasped Jal’na’s head, her face framed between Du’Clis’s thumb and index finger. It was a firm grip, but not painful. She lowered her face to Jal’na and her eyes bored into the very soul of the First Lady of House Duroc. “Do you see now? Do you understand? Urg’tohn is the blood of Kvaar’ton, Chosen of The Builder. But the House would never be complete, never truly restored without my blood… your blood. The circle was not complete without you, Jal’na… She Who Came FirstTo Complete The Circle, Chosen of Urg’tohn Son of The Builder, Mother of House Duroc, and Last of The Blood of House Ho’l.” She let go of Jal’na and the light flowed back into the tent. Du’Clis took her seat and watched her decedent’s face for any sign of realization.

Du’Clis of House Ho’l

Jal’na sighed. No she hadn’tasked. Until Urg found the hammer the only aacount was from Urg and his brothers. There were no records or people to ask what happened after. “I hear you and I understand, SoSnI’ (Grandmother).” It was weird and twisted though. So she and Urg were long lost cousins or something. It made her head hurt.

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Du’Clis laughed loudly. “No, you dense silly girl. Think for once. Use that mind that drew Urg’tohn to you instead of the ass that did the same. How long ago do you think all this-” and she waved her hands around at the tent, “- was? How long ago do you think it was when I was murdered by the traitor? How far back it was when my children were slaughtered by the J’uv? Tell me, and then I will tell you how wrong you are.”

Du’Clis, Lady Kvaar’Hol

Jal’na ground her teeth. “Now you’re dense. The centuries have turned parts of your brain to ash. I didn’t mean it literally. Only as a term of respect and acknowledgement of the connection. But let’s just operate with the assumption I have no brain, that I am stupid as you keep describing me, that I am only a piece of @$$ my mate can’t leave alone, and I am always wrong and you continue to educate me despite my stupidity. No matter what I say or do you will not be pleased.”

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Du’Clis laughed and said “Not what you said… what you thought. You and your mate are as much cousins as you and the bald female you call friend are.” She smiled at Jal’na and said “So much time has passed between this and your life that our blood has diluted to nothing and been reborn all over again. You are as related as Kvaar’ton and I were.” and she chuckled.

To Jal’na’s credit she didn’t roll her eyes though she wanted to. What was thT word Jessie used whenever someone stated the obvious that everyone already knew? Oh yes, ‘Duh!’ Jal’na knew they were no where close to be truly related. It was incredibly exhausting to not even be allowed the privacy of her thoughts.

“And you do not displease me, daughter. If you did, I would have never allowed you to know what you now know. And I would not give my oath that you are protected. Not just by my husband and yours… but by me. And there is no protection greater than that of mother to her child.” At the last words a sharp pain took over her face and tears welled up in her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was strained and her hands clenched into fists. “That is what makes the traitor’s betrayal that much more painful. I was unable to protect all my children. I was no warrior, I was a healer. But even had I been a warrior, I would not have been able to stand up to the Traitor. And for that failure, I will remain here. But even from here, I see you. I watch over you. And I will never allow anything to harm you or the precious gift you bear.” She slid out of the chair and knelt in front of Jal’na, taking her hands in her which were now like ice. “You will bring great honor to you and your family. You will make Kvaar’ton proud and when the time comes he will escort you into Sto’Vo’Kor. Until that day, know that you are mine. And nothing will harm you. That I swear.”

Du’Clis

“I am deeply grieved by what happened to you and your children. I have been since I heard the story. We are not all warriors. You say it would not have mattered. You stay here because you failed. You gave everything to protect them, to the very last breath. You were not victorious, but you did not fail. By your reasoning everyone in your camp that night should remain here because they did not see the traitor for what he was.” Jal’na understood though, “But words do not heal your heart do they? Only you can choose if you will join them for eternity. That I do understand.” Jal’na gripped her hands, they were cold now. “You honor me with your oath, Lady Du’Clis.”

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

She smiled and pulled Jal’na to her in a fierce embrace. “You will do wonderful things… not just for House Duroc; but for you. And you will be remembered. And your name will be sang with the same glory of your mate’s. Never doubt that you are just as important as he. Without both of you, your House will fall. Stay the course…” There was a great darkness that fell on them like all the lights in the universe had gone out.

The words echoed painfully in the pitch blackness and then there was nothing…

Urg sat on the floor next to her, her head cradled in his lap. His hand caressed her cheeks and something wet dripped from her forehead ridges down her temple. “Jal’na… please speak to me.” he whispered and there was something in his voice she had never heard before… fear. The wetness was tears that fell from his eyes onto her.

Du’Clis / Urg

“Urg’tohn.” His name caressed her lips as air finally moved through her chest as the unbearable weight lifted. Her eyes opened instantly and she reached for him. Her thumbs traced the paths of his tears. “HIqDaq qI’meH chu’ (You are the fire in my heart). It will take more than gods to take me from you, Husband.” She pulled him down and crushed her mouth to his.

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Urg kissed her back with such force as their lips split. Finally pulling back, he said “Your eyes rolled back and you started convulsing. I tried to call for help, but no sound came out. What happend?”

Urg, Lord Duroc

Jal’na did not trust herself to do a scan of herself and interpret the readings. Not when she carried their child in her womb. She reached up and pressed the comms, “Have Ok’jiv come to my office immediately. Medical need.” She closed the connection without waiting. She looked up at her husband and the fear that had taken him. She felt a surge of righteous rage at Du’Clis for torturing him. “Another spirit wanting to play influence in our lives. Help me dress, Urg. Ok’jiv is a midwife. She practiced most of her life o. Q’onoS. She will neither be surprised nor offended by our recent activities, but the nurses do live to gossip.”

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

At the mention of spirits, Urg visibly relaxed. “Oh… good. I thought it was something serious.” He stood up and reached down and helped Jal’na up. “Who was it? What did they say?” and he started handing her clothes.

Urg, Lord Duroc

Of course that didn’t bother him. “Anything that causes sudden convulsions is serious, especially in a species that is mostly impervious to cranial trauma.” She pulled her medical uniform back on and moved to a chair, feeling light headed, which was an unknown experience for her. “She said her name was Du’Clis of House Ho’l, forever mate of Kvaar’ton the Builder.”

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Urg chuckled. “Klingons are designed for resilience. It would be logical that our gods would be even stronger to be able to get through to us. He stopped for a moment and stared straight ahead, deep in thought. “Ho’l? I have never heard of a house with that name.” He looked back at her and said “what else did she say?”

Urg, Lord Duroc

“I have not either. I suppose we could have someone research it.” Jal’na shrugged, “She asked about you. She found it amusing people think you and your brothers were named for the warriors who went with Kvaar’ton to his final battle. She says she can not see the males,” she shrugged again, “then spent the rest of her time telling me how I should feel and insulting me.” She stretched her legs out, flexing and drumming her fingers in pattern for a moment. She was sure nothing was wrong, but Jal’na wanted to know for sure.

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Urg laughed once. “The mate of Kvaar’ton, for certain. He did the same to me when he first spoke to me. You’ll get used to it… or go mad, like me.” and he grinned at her. He then walked next to her and set his hand on her shoulder. “I know and understand how hard this may be for you, Jal’na. And if I regretted anything in my life, it was bringing you into the gaze of the gods. It is a heavy weight this House carries; but it is a divine gift that we exist at all. Even still… if I could silence their voices for you? I would do so without hesitation.”

Urg, Lord Duroc