fic for Jitka
May. 16th, 2006 12:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chanter1944Answering her entry in the song titles challenge meme thingie. the song title in question was One Blood by Junior Reid. Granted I'm taking liberties here a bit and connecting one blood to one flesh, as in marriage in the strictest and most conservative sense *wince* sorry. It's for fic purposes, not anything else. Hope this works.
and given how everything went down with Eris later in that episode *cough* spoilers if I say any more *cough* I can imagine Sisko reliving that day in captivity with a somewhat guilty conscience, but unable to deny the depth of his feelings. He's not exactly the sort to deny those. :)
Title: At First Sight
Author: chanter
Series: DS9, during the Jem Hadar
Rating: PG
Characters/pairings: Eris/Sisko
Summary: there was a lot more going on while Sisko and a battered Eris were getting acquainted than we were led to believe.
Spoilers for the Jem Hadar, you have been warned.
670words
I don’t know. Maybe something got itself knocked loose, maybe I hit my head when she used her telekinetic abilities to knock me down. I’m not sure. I admit everything’s something of a fast motion blurr from that moment up to when the soldiers threw us in that cell.
I’d just gotten my bearings back when they sent her in after us. I still remember the soldier who escorted her saying “You can have this one,” and then she was on the floor just far enough away from us to avoid both of our eyes.
I was looking at her even before she warned me off the security field. Starfleet training had taught me nonverbal language, the tacit signals sent between shipmates, the ones I used every day working with my officers, with the civilians living on the station... even with Quark. I was watching her, sitting there in the corner all but huddling to keep away from us, and I was reading.
Everything.
What I said is just as important as how I said it. I still remember how I worded it, but the underlying message I was sending outweighs my wording even now. I wasn’t sure if our universal translators were working given what our captors had put us through getting to where we were, and even if they were who knew if she was in any state of mind to take in even half of what I said. I was protective of her from the first, from the moment I hit the dirt on her authority, even before she saved my life with a single answer.
I’d intended to soothe her, translators or no translators. Everything her body language and the rough landing she’d had on the receving end of a soldier’s hands and that menacing collar at her throat brought instincts that went far beyond Starfleet to the forefront; tacit, natural reactions maybe born of fifteen years of fatherhood, maybe from just as many years of marriage or something else entirely. I don’t know.
It worked. She listened to me, enough to save my life, at least. Enough to tell her own life’s halting story, icy dominion domination, telekinetic skill, destruction and freighters and everything else that chased her into my arms, drove her beneath my wings, tumbled her under my sails. I wanted to protect her, that tacit need growing with every subtle turn of her history and likely leaking through my voicewhen I gave her my name. “I’m Commander Benjamin Sisko.” I want to rescue you. “I command a station on the other side of the worm hole.” Call it refuge, call it sanctuary. The gateway is a celestial temple, after all. “Our home is thousands of lightyears from here.” I will carry you to safety.
And I admit I read into her answer far more than my training alone would have allowed me to. Trailing with her name were my wishes, my longing to heal her, to soothe away the lightyears of injury and injustice that had left her bruised and silent almost in my lap and knit the ragged edges that lent that tremor to her voice. She trusted me, and I wanted to prove her right. I’d have walked with her, carried her, held her hand and if the end result was a Korillian in my bed I’d have welcomed the chance to warm her. I wanted to take care of everything, from freedom to shelter to comfort and right down through the years. In that instant I’d have married her, if she’d wanted.
Her name in my voice was a caress, and a promise, and so reverent and electric it surprised even me. I know she sensed it, and between the warmth and the electricity and the fragile layers of the energy between us, Quark was completely forgotten. Freedom, shelter, language, trust and an intimacy created by all four working in concert--her name was liquid reverence.
“It’s nice to meet you... Eris.”
And to this day, it still is.
and given how everything went down with Eris later in that episode *cough* spoilers if I say any more *cough* I can imagine Sisko reliving that day in captivity with a somewhat guilty conscience, but unable to deny the depth of his feelings. He's not exactly the sort to deny those. :)
Title: At First Sight
Author: chanter
Series: DS9, during the Jem Hadar
Rating: PG
Characters/pairings: Eris/Sisko
Summary: there was a lot more going on while Sisko and a battered Eris were getting acquainted than we were led to believe.
Spoilers for the Jem Hadar, you have been warned.
670words
I don’t know. Maybe something got itself knocked loose, maybe I hit my head when she used her telekinetic abilities to knock me down. I’m not sure. I admit everything’s something of a fast motion blurr from that moment up to when the soldiers threw us in that cell.
I’d just gotten my bearings back when they sent her in after us. I still remember the soldier who escorted her saying “You can have this one,” and then she was on the floor just far enough away from us to avoid both of our eyes.
I was looking at her even before she warned me off the security field. Starfleet training had taught me nonverbal language, the tacit signals sent between shipmates, the ones I used every day working with my officers, with the civilians living on the station... even with Quark. I was watching her, sitting there in the corner all but huddling to keep away from us, and I was reading.
Everything.
What I said is just as important as how I said it. I still remember how I worded it, but the underlying message I was sending outweighs my wording even now. I wasn’t sure if our universal translators were working given what our captors had put us through getting to where we were, and even if they were who knew if she was in any state of mind to take in even half of what I said. I was protective of her from the first, from the moment I hit the dirt on her authority, even before she saved my life with a single answer.
I’d intended to soothe her, translators or no translators. Everything her body language and the rough landing she’d had on the receving end of a soldier’s hands and that menacing collar at her throat brought instincts that went far beyond Starfleet to the forefront; tacit, natural reactions maybe born of fifteen years of fatherhood, maybe from just as many years of marriage or something else entirely. I don’t know.
It worked. She listened to me, enough to save my life, at least. Enough to tell her own life’s halting story, icy dominion domination, telekinetic skill, destruction and freighters and everything else that chased her into my arms, drove her beneath my wings, tumbled her under my sails. I wanted to protect her, that tacit need growing with every subtle turn of her history and likely leaking through my voicewhen I gave her my name. “I’m Commander Benjamin Sisko.” I want to rescue you. “I command a station on the other side of the worm hole.” Call it refuge, call it sanctuary. The gateway is a celestial temple, after all. “Our home is thousands of lightyears from here.” I will carry you to safety.
And I admit I read into her answer far more than my training alone would have allowed me to. Trailing with her name were my wishes, my longing to heal her, to soothe away the lightyears of injury and injustice that had left her bruised and silent almost in my lap and knit the ragged edges that lent that tremor to her voice. She trusted me, and I wanted to prove her right. I’d have walked with her, carried her, held her hand and if the end result was a Korillian in my bed I’d have welcomed the chance to warm her. I wanted to take care of everything, from freedom to shelter to comfort and right down through the years. In that instant I’d have married her, if she’d wanted.
Her name in my voice was a caress, and a promise, and so reverent and electric it surprised even me. I know she sensed it, and between the warmth and the electricity and the fragile layers of the energy between us, Quark was completely forgotten. Freedom, shelter, language, trust and an intimacy created by all four working in concert--her name was liquid reverence.
“It’s nice to meet you... Eris.”
And to this day, it still is.
