The Last Time We First Met - Part Ten
by: Denise Underwood
c. 2001
"I was a fool," Triona declared to no one in particular.
"I beg your pardon?" Picard asked, not sure what she meant.
She laughed, shrugging her shoulders. "Hindsight is always twenty-twenty
after all." Realizing the Captain still didn't know what she was talking
about, she backtracked, explaining, "Benjamin and me. Our relationship.
Even after what happened we never really talked about what was at the core
of our problem. We both just danced around it till it blew up in our
faces." A sad look flitted across her pale face, remembering what that
avoidance had cost.
"It still makes you sad," Picard said.
"I suppose it does. It changed both of us, our relationship, so much that
it was really like we were two different people when we finally
reconciled." She toyed with her cup, staring into it like she might see
something revealed within. Coming back to the world around her, she looked
at the man sitting across from her. "Do you really want me to go on with
this, Jean-Luc? Surely you must be tiring of my overly long and
melodramatic life experiences."
"I'm not going anywhere. At least, not till Admiral Dean's party tonight.
You have my undivided attention, my Lady," he said with a gallant tilt of
his head.
Triona had to laugh. "Don't say I didn't give you an out!" Pouring them
both more tea, while Picard went to check on the fire, she thought for a
moment before continuing. "We didn't talk about Benjamin's problems with my
being a vampire -- even if it was a part time one." She smiled wryly. "So
it all just festered, waiting for a spark to set it off. The spark was a
fledging of LaCroix's: Dominique. She wanted to be brought across, but
wasn't happy with the familial obligations that came with that gift. As you
might imagine, Lucien is a traditionalist. He expects a great deal from his
children. Not that he's wrong," she hastened to add. "A young vampire,
without the firm control of its Master, can be a danger to themselves and
to the Community. It's ironic really. When it was all over, Benjamin had
left me, and had left with Dominique -- a full vampire."
Picard stirred the fire with a plain iron poker before tossing some more
fuel on the embers. "What happened?"
"Benjamin had an old enemy. He told me not to interfere -- I did. Somehow
Dominique became the catalyst." Triona sighed, twisting at an old
fashioned, white gold band on her left ring finger. "I'm still not quite
sure how it all got away from me, even now, after all this time. He saw my
actions as a betrayal. That I chose LaCroix -- chose being a vampire --
over him." She propped her head in her hands, chewing her lower lip. With
no makeup, her long hair in a messy ponytail and her legs curled underneath
her, she looked like little more than a teenager. Only her eyes gave any
hint of the years. "Maybe he was right."
Coming back to the table, Picard said, "I couldn't help but notice the
tension between the two of you the last time I was on Imladris." He paused,
as if trying to carefully choose his next words. "He doesn't approve of the
baby, does he?"
Triona winced a little at hearing the words out loud. "No," she said so
quietly that the sound was lost in the crackle of the fire. "This time he
forced me to choose -- and I didn't choose him. That's why we separated
last year. Though that sounds very formal for something that was so full of
rage and hurt."
Picard could feel her sadness through the dimness. "This place is amazing,"
he said, changing the subject. "I can imagine you riding out the war here.
Remote, defendable, away from the radiation and pathogens that inundated
more populated areas."
Triona was grateful for the change in direction. Even World War Three was a
preferable topic of conversation to her present and past problems with
Methos. "It wasn't easy. Even with all the planning and preparation. It was
a truly horrible time. One I could do with never having to relive."
"You don't sound as if you believe you won't."
"I don't. Civilizations rise and fall. One day, so will the Federation.
Entropy, Jean-Luc, entropy."
"You'll forgive me if I don't share your pessimistic view, Triona. I think
that what we've built will last for millennia."
"It will, but as a foundation for a new Empire, a new civilization. The
ruins of the Federation will be the basis of things we can't even imagine."
She patted Picard's hand. "History is on my side, you know it is." Standing
up and stretching, she carried their cups to the sink. "But that's a debate
for another time."
Picard following, leaned against the counter. "I'll hold you to that
debate, Minister."
"I look forward to it. I'll even go you one better -- you can debate the
fall of civilization with Lucien. He has some personal experience with it,"
she said, grinning impishly. "So, how do you feel about a pre-dawn walk?
I'll share my thinking place with you."
"It would be my pleasure."
**********
"I love this place," Triona said as she sat on a flat boulder next to a
spring burbling into a brook that ran through the forest glade.
"It's very peaceful," Picard said, looking around the moonlit clearing. The
silver light of Earth's satellite made the water of the spring sparkle like
a fairy spell.
She nodded in agreement as he sat down next to her. "This place seems
timeless to me. It never changes." Triona drew her legs up, wrapping her
arms around her knees. "I used to come here to escape the war. Or my family
-- which was like a war sometimes," she said, laughing.
"What was it like? The war, I mean." Jean-Luc snapped a long pine needle
between his fingers. "I've read about it, even seen old pictures. But it's
difficult to imagine the Earth I grew up on in total ruin."
Laying her cheek against her knee, she considered his question. How to
explain everything she'd ever known being destroyed. That only the
forethought of LaCroix and Methos had saved all of them from death or
worse. "It was like every level of Dante's hell compressed into a horror
that those of us who survived could not really comprehend. You did
things.... I did things that I never thought myself capable of to save
those I loved...."
********
Methos' palm struck her across the cheek. "Triona, listen to me! You have
to focus!" His voice was full of fear. "You have to shut Lucius out!"
Taking her shoulders in a fierce grip he shook her, trying to break through.
Shuddering, she gasped for air, trying to pull herself from her Master's
mental hold. "He's dying, Methos," her voice cracked, "I can't leave him
alone."
"He's not going to die. We won't let him," he said, trying to sound as if
he really believed it. Collapsing against Methos, Triona shook
uncontrollably from exposure and mental exhaustion. It was bitter cold in
the autumn night, but they didn't dare risk a fire. "Please, love. I won't
let you die too," he whispered.
He held her there in the bombed out basement of what had been a school,
hidden from view by fallen timbers from the roof, and piles of masonry from
the building's destroyed walls. LaCroix lay next to them, half his body
burned terribly from a bomb blast. As awful as it looked, it wasn't what
concerned the two Immortals. The force of the blast had driven shards of
wood into his body. Including a large, vicious fragment through the ancient
vampire's heart. Unfortunately, LaCroix's injuries had not left him
unconscious. Instead, the trauma of his injuries had left him helpless and
in incredible agony. And, in his delirium, he had lost all ability to
control his link with Triona. Their bond had become a conduit for all the
pain and fear that he felt, dragging her into his mind. Minute by minute,
she was slipping farther away from the reality around her.
Triona, Methos, and LaCroix had come to what had been Billings, Montana to
meet with an enclave of vampires that were rumored to be led by an old
comrade of LaCroix's. They had hoped to arrange a route of safe passage for
the Keep's foraging parties. The meeting itself had gone well. But trouble
had hit when they were a half night out of the city.
The three had been eluding a party of human scavengers on the outskirts of
some nameless town. They had killed several of them, but a few persistent
ones continued to follow. Just as they thought they'd shaken their
pursuers, the sounds of a baby crying broke into the cold of the night. At
Triona's insistence, the two men followed her towards the sound. There,
seemingly abandoned in the ruins of a house, was a child. It may have been
as old as two, but in the near dark it was almost impossible to tell. It
cried in sheer terror as they debated what to do.
In the end, Triona had refused to abandon the child to an almost certain
death. She had been almost to where the baby lay when Methos shouted a
warning. Then an explosion ripped through the frigid Montana night,
knocking Methos off his feet. LaCroix had moved as soon as he heard the
Immortal's warning, hurling Triona over a ruined brick wall and shelter.
The vampire had taken the brunt of the blast.
"It's my fault." She looked up at Methos, her eyes more lucid than they had
been a few minutes before. "I walked right into the trap. I should've
listened to you." She covered her face with her hands, as if trying to
block out the horror of what had happened. "I just couldn't believe anyone
would use a baby to bait a trap."
"How could you conceive of such a thing? Blaming yourself isn't going to
help Lucien," he said firmly.
"Why did he do it?" she whispered. "I would have survived."
"Instinct. He can't help himself from protecting you."
"And now I need to protect him. We need to get the wood from his body --
especially from his heart. Then he needs blood." Triona looked at Methos
intently. "He won't have any control. He'll drain me and we can't stop him."
"No, absolutely not!" Methos protested. "You'll be totally defenseless.
What happens if we're attacked while you're unconscious?"
"And if he dies -- which he will without my blood -- then I'll be just as
defenseless. You know it's true, Methos. It's all I can do now to ward off
his madness. I don't know how long I can do this." She let him see just how
scared she was; and how determined as well. "I need your strength, Methos.
Please," she said, pleading.
He pulled her to him, crushing her against his chest and kissing her
fiercely. With reluctance he let go of her, touching her face with his
fingertips. "Let's do this," he said in a heavy voice.
Nodding, Triona knelt at LaCroix's side, pulling out a small emergency
solar light from her pocket. "Hold this over the wound," she instructed,
preparing to remove the wood from the vampire's heart.
"No," Methos said. "I'll do it." At her questioning look, he elaborated,
"It's going to hurt him -- and you. It'll be better if I do it." He put the
light on a broken pile of cinderblock adjacent to where he knelt next to
LaCroix. "Ready?" She nodded, taking LaCroix's hand in hers.
********
Denise * ithildin@ondragonswing.com* Ith
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