Paramount owns the characters and their universe. I simply have allowed them to frolic in the fertile playground of my mind, tell their story and return to the Paramount stages. Until the next recess.
In Hades' Embrace
by Roxane Gilbert
Julian Bashir had given her the story, his boyish features masking none of his friendly concern as he delivered the dataPADD to her hand and a kiss to her cheek. "I thought you should read this story, Nerys. I know," he had hesitated, his manner that of a doctor unwilling to deliver bad news. "I just thought you might. . . uh, appreciate it. It's an old Terran myth."
She remembered thanking him, uncertain of saying more given the awkwardness that seemed to crop up suddenly. "I'll read it on the transport," she promised despite the look on Miles O'Brien's face that seemed to warn her from fulfilling those words. For his part, the Chief wrapped her in a hug before pushing her toward the airlock.
"You've got the gifts for Molly and Yoshi?" he asked, his anxiousness mirroring her own.
"And the message for Keiko," she assured him with a voice more level than she expected.
Bashir had promptly forestalled any other further delays from O'Brien with an exasperated, "She's only been on Bajor for a week, Chief. If you keep Kira here much longer, you'll be able to deliver the message to Keiko yourself," before doing his best to shoo her onto the transport.
As promised she had read the story. And reread it. By the third reading, she no longer needed to activate the reference notes that helped explain the names of places and people. She no longer needed the notes of a Terran scholar long dead to tell her what role she played in the story.
She understood hell all too well.
At first the story puzzled her, the names and places so foreign to her that they made little sense to a woman reared on Bajoran folklore. Nothing in that canon prepared her for the tale of a Greek god who kidnapped a young woman to bring her down to his underground home. Both the god and the place carried the same name, and she sat puzzling over that before trying to make sense of the rest. Once in the nether world, the kidnapped woman, Persephone, ate a pomegranate and lost her chance to return freely to her own world. Only intervention from Zeus enabled the broken-hearted mother to reclaim her daughter for half of the year while the other half was spent in the gray, lifeless kingdom of Hades, her lover.
The small ache just above her right eye throbbed as she read and reread the myth. Closing her eyes as she tried to rub the pain from her temple, she silently cursed Dr. Bashir's gift for being too close to the truth. She'd compromised to hold onto her lover just as Hades had bargained; the pomegranate -- their love, she surmised -- a tether she could always pull to bring him back to her from the world to which he belonged.
For more than a week now she had fought down the anxiety and fear skulking just beyond her conscious thought, praying to find her own peace, praying to bring him safely back to Bajor. Never had she prayed to her Prophets to possess him fully -- she only asked for his continued happiness and health no matter where he was.
So she stood now at the transport center, her outward nervousness confined to her hands that clenched and unclenched in rhythm with her pounding heart. Travelers passed by her as they hurried to their own connections. Despite her high profile on the planet and beyond, only a few of the bolder Bajorans stopped to address her while most simply glanced her way or made comments to their companions behind open hands.
"Colonel?"
She turned to the voice, its deep honeyed rasp too close to his own for her to ignore. The Bajoran transport steward who faced her allowed her disappointment to flare then die away before bending to take the bag at her side. "He's been delayed for a few days, Colonel. He asked that you go ahead. This way."
She followed numbly, her stiff military bearing giving away nothing to those nearby who might have heard. As the harsh, angular lines of the transport center faded into the greening countryside of Dakhur province, she fought to relax into her feelings rather than push them away. "Don't fight the feelings, Nerys," she remembered Ezri Dax telling her just that morning, "but feel them."
But to feel them only made her flounder in a sea of emotional turmoil. Waves of disappointment, fear, and doubt collided with desire, joy, and anticipation, leaving her desperately unbalanced. For over a week now, since the message had found its way to the station, she had paddled against a rising crest of undammed emotions. Once at night when the station's business had somehow managed to be done, she had sunk into the tidal waves of emotions, finding morning's arrival as painful as the light had been on her swollen eyes. Meditation relieved little of her anxiety and at times she felt that she was as close to insanity as she ever wanted to get.
Breathing in the rich, warm air of Bajor scented with vendala blossoms just beginning to ripen, she imagined each exhale to be one more chance to shed the canned air of the station for the fresh invitation of her native planet. Deposited just outside the cottage, she impulsively kicked off the regulation boots and hose to wriggle her toes into the grass just off the pathway. The sunshine felt good against her skin, and for several moments she basked in the warm embrace of home. Somehow the loneliness that threatened to devour her on the station seemed less starved here. "Everything will be as the Prophets have willed it," she reminded herself as she plucked her wayward boots and traveling bag from their spots on the path and headed for the cottage.
Morning turned into afternoon, but she gave little notice to the passage of time as she busied herself with planting a stand of trees against the northern winds of future winters. Images of a gray Hades beckoned, and more than once she closed her eyes in silent prayer to ease away from the wayward thoughts. Rather than curse the present again, she simply did what she had done most of her life, use work to numb her feelings and to chase away errant thoughts. Lost as she was in her task, she barely noticed the lengthening shadows or the one that seemed determined to hide the roots of the kekaw trees she was trying to separate. Looking up finally, she immediately recognized the source of the shadow across the shallow pit she had dug.
"Molly!" The child wrapped her arms around her neck and grateful for the interruption, Kira returned the hug with the same joyful intensity. "I thought I wouldn't get to see you until tomorrow," Kira offered as Molly tried to pull her to her feet. "I'm glad you're here. "
"Mommy's in the house with Yoshi. She told me to come get you, Aunt Nerys," Molly announced with a mixture of childish authority and playfulness. After rubbing the dirt from her hands, Kira wrapped her fingers around Molly's who never relinquished her grip as they made their way toward the cottage.
Outside the smoothly rounded exterior of the cottage, what looked like stray cargo from Deep Space Nine had been piled neatly along both sides of the walkway. The gray containers sported Bajoran transport labels, but little more to indicate their contents. "Are you moving in?" Kira asked Molly with a mock scowl. Molly chose to answer her by finally letting go of her hand and skipping ahead toward Keiko O'Brien.
"I got her, Mommy. Aunt Nerys thinks we should move in here," Molly pronounced each word with a solemnity that caused both grown-ups to melt into laughter as they embraced in greeting. Just as Keiko released Kira, a small dynamo of energy rocked against Nerys' legs.
"Who's this little terrorist?" Kira cooed as she pulled Kirayoshi to her arms and hugged him until he squirmed free and began racing along the stone path heading toward an open field and his sister who darted in and out among the wildflowers growing there.
"I hope you don't mind, Nerys, but when Miles told me that the Charyon would be delayed for a few days, I thought you might want the company," offered the lovely Asian woman. "Besides, when I told some of the Bajorans in my crew who I would be visiting, they insisted I bring these." Her hand swept in all of the large cargo containers piled like sentries along the walkway to the cottage.
"What are they?" Kira asked, her mobile face registering a combination of curiosity and concern.
"A little bit of Paradise."
To Kira's mind, the cargo containers did hold Paradise itself. Each contained botanical wonders that promptly became part of the landscape around the cottage, framing the structure in an instant forest of color and texture. The three days of digging and hauling and planting had finally emptied all the containers, long since transported away, and left Kira lazing in tired contentment by the small creek near the cottage. Below her, Molly and Yoshi splashed in the slow moving waters while Keiko studied a small specimen in a clear stasis container.
While the plants had been a pleasant surprise that helped fill the days with welcome physical labor, the greater gift to Kira's mind was the company of Keiko, Molly and Kirayoshi. Because of them, she gave little thought to the real reason she had come to Bajor and to the cottage. She had accepted the delay of Odo's ship from the Gamma Quadrant with the same outward composure she had maintained during the six months of his absence. Inwardly, any stray thought of Odo only threatened to break through the carefully nurtured serenity. One random thought thrown his way only unleashed a dull longing and hollow ache.
"I can't believe Yoshi just appeared out of nowhere with a handful of these," Keiko said shaking her head. "I haven't see arkana produce this color flower before."
Pulling herself away from her own thoughts, she tried to draw upon images that had been conjured recently of times with her father and brothers. "My father always said the land produced flowers or weeds," Kira offered, "according to the soil in which it grows." She stared up at the clouds dancing merrily across the azure sky and sighed. "He meant it to remind me that I was part of Bajor, part of him. He wanted me to be as strong as the kekaw tree that grew on one corner of our land."
"He must have been a good man," Keiko noted. "There's good soil here, Nerys."
"Really?" Kira asked idly wondering why she suddenly felt so detached from herself. Keiko and the children had done their best to fill her days and nights with activity and laughter and play that until now she had had little chance to spend any time alone with her own thoughts. "Or you're just avoiding them, Nerys," she told herself.
Just then Yoshi dashed up the slope with a handful of wriggling jia'va, a Bajoran amphibian. The spray of water from the protesting jia'va caught Kira before she could trap Yoshi and wrestle him and his captive to the ground. Tickling Yoshi, she rescued the amphibian from his pudgy hands and held him until the boy settled beside her. Rather than protest, he had easily accepted Kira's guidance in and around the cottage with what Keiko could only surmise to be a leftover natal bond. "Do you want to see some magic?" Kira asked the suddenly wide-eyed Yoshi. As the boy nodded, Kira placed the amphibian into his hands. "This is much like a Terran frog, Yoshi. But there's a difference, look." She pressed near the belly of the greenish-yellow creature and a small sack bulged from its thigh. "It has one of these on either leg. There's liquid here," she pointed out as she pressed the sack causing the thick gel to ooze out in a drop onto a large leaf. "Never take all of the secretion because the jia'va uses it to mark his territory or trick his enemies into thinking he's something else. We just need a little."
Keiko watched as her son sat mesmerized by Kira's actions. For a woman who had spent her childhood surrounded by horror and her teens fighting for her very existence, Kira exuded a gentleness and easy manner with children that belied the hard life she had lived. Kira put the jia'va down facing away from its watery home, telling Yoshi that the small frog would know its way back to the creek. Yoshi clapped with glee as the frog quickly righted its direction and hopped purposefully toward the water. Meanwhile, Kira had been massaging the jia'va's secretion into the surface of the leaf. "Here, Yoshi. Put out your hand." The child gave up watching the frog to follow Kira's movements as she showed him the green leaf that slowly faded in color until it appeared almost transparent. Keiko smiled to see Yoshi forget to breathe as the leaf seemed to disappear in his hand. "We Bajorans believe that you can make a wish on the leaf, then crumble it and let the wish be caught by the wind and be sent to the Prophets."
"Can I make a wish?" Molly, who had been drawn to the events unfolding on the bank of the creek, looked as wide-eyed with wonder as Yoshi.
Kira sketched a nod. "Legend has it that you can only do this once a year and the more people who wish on it the better the Prophets will listen." Molly nodded and squeezed her eyes shut. Yoshi simply stared at the leaf in his hands, his face still aglow with wonder.
"Mommy, Aunt Nerys, did you make your wishes?" Molly's eyes flew open and she seemed on the verge of snatching the leaf from Yoshi's fingers to send her message on its way to the celestial temple.
Kira simply nodded, her eyes reflecting none of the joy there just moments earlier. Keiko noted the change in the Bajoran woman's mood, but turned her attention to Yoshi. "Did you wish, Yoshi?" He nodded, his eyes never leaving the transformed leaf in his hand.
"Then close your hands around it, Yoshi," Kira said finally. The boy brought one hand on top of the other and mashed the now-brittle leaf against his palms. When he released them, the fragments caught the fading sunlight to twinkle like glitter. "Now blow on it and send your message to the Prophets."
Both children bent to the task and sent up a small cloud of sparkling light to be caught by the breeze. Yoshi clapped excitedly as the wisps of mica-like leaf dispersed to carry their wishes to the ears of the Bajoran gods.
Much later that night when the children had been tucked into their beds and her own body felt a pleasant tiredness brought on by a sun-drenched afternoon, Keiko wondered what wish Kira had made. The Bajoran remained quietly attentive to her guests all evening, fixing a traditional dinner then reading stories to the children until both had fallen asleep nestled next to her. Never known for her patience, Kira had a boundless supply for the O'Brien children. She'd endured countless questions from Molly about the transformed leaf and promised Yoshi she would help him track down another jia'va in the morning before the family's scheduled transport back to Deep Space Nine.
"I wish we could stay longer," Keiko broke into the companionable silence that had fallen between them after they'd carried the sleeping children to their bedrooms. She raised her glass of Bajoran spring wine to her lips. "It really is beautiful here. I know Miles would enjoy this."
"You're all welcome here, Keiko. I don't expect I'll be able to get back here more than once or twice every few months," Kira said wistfully. She studied the amber fluid in the glass. "I should thank you. I'm not sure I could have waited for the Charyon without you here."
Each day Keiko had thought to cross into the forbidden territory only to be forestalled by Kira's apparent serenity. But as late afternoon turned into evening, Kira's mood had darkened with the lengthening shadows. She hid it well from the children, but several times Keiko saw Kira's expressive eyes cloud over momentarily before Molly or Yoshi demanded her attention and the Bajoran gracefully drew herself back from her own thoughts. During Kira's surrogate pregnancy with Kirayoshi, the two women had forged a bond that Keiko cherished especially when she realized the full depth of Nerys' kindness. Now she wondered what harm she might do to their friendship by unlocking the Pandora's box of ills besetting the quiet Bajoran.
Yet Kira opened the box herself, pulling her legs underneath her as she sat on the couch opposite from where Keiko sat. "I feel like I'm waiting to face down a whole squadron of Cardassians without a phaser," she said quietly, her eyes focusing on the glass of wine in her hand. "I'm sorry. I'm not sure how to really explain it."
"You don't know how he'll be changed by being with them for so long in the Great Link." There. She had voiced Kira's doubt. But the former Resistance fighter did not flinch, only brought the wineglass to her lips to sip at the amber fluid. "You don't know if he'll want to stay here with you. If he'll want to be with you."
Kira's face blanched, but her dark chocolate eyes met Keiko's. "Do you know the story of Persephone and Hades?" she asked, her voice a whisper against the soft light within the cottage.
Keiko's own face whitened. From her childhood memories she had plucked the story and mentioned it to Miles. Her eyes left Kira's. "I take it someone told you that story."
"I don't know how I can keep him here when I know that he wants to be with his own people." Kira rubbed tiredly at a spot just above her right eye. "How can someone be happy with a heart divided in two?"
He watched from his perch on the mature yeyaw tree that bent gracefully over the yard in front of the house. The hawk-like features and hypervigilant eyes of his Bajoran jincaw reminded him of his old humanoid face. He flapped his wings to ease away the knots of tension that seemed to weigh him to the branch. For much of the light sparkle of afternoon and well into the ebony grace of night, Odo had observed the leisurely movements outside and within the house. On her own, Kira had selected, furnished and landscaped the house. Yet even as he examined the new, unfamiliar surroundings, he realized how much of him could be found in the untamed land around the fluid lines of that simple structure. The outdoors teemed with shape shifting possibilities and a rugged, unspoiled beauty that suited him. The garden curved around two sides of the house and abounded with a symphony of newly planted colors, shapes and textures. A stand of kekaw trees swayed to the music of the night, bowed slightly, then nodded to each chord of breeze. In the near distance, the jagged peaks of Rentala reflected Jerrado's own borrowed brilliance, etching a line of colors to dance against the sky.
In a way that he could not fully explain, this strange, unfamiliar place seemed like home.
He had come to tell Kira that he could not tie them both to an impossible relationship. She deserved more. Bound by duty, they had agreed to compromise their love; bound by honor, they had lost one half of the year to ensure peace between the Dominion and the Federation.
But it was love which would help him break the bonds between them.
Giving peace to others had provided him with little for himself. He suspected the same was true for Nerys. So he had come to tell her that her love had given him strength. Because she loved him, he would have to let her go.
The Great Link had tried to pry her from his memories, succeeding only in drawing from his mind the stark images of their lovemaking. The collective mind of the link had broken into individual voices which recoiled from the erotic festival, then timidly demanded to understand. To his unschooled abilities, the sensations of the Great Link had overwhelmed him early and brought out all their lover's secrets to be examined and questioned and analyzed until Odo swore that even Quark would not want what remained for one of his sexual holosuite programs. While the images aroused thoughts of Kira, they also disturbed him. He felt the deep shame of having betrayed Kira, of having allowed them to leave her stripped of all dignity, of exposing her to their judgment.
But even as they extracted his memories to understand his link with an all-too-solid Kira Nerys, they never quite succeeded in draining away the one great truth -- he loved her. While the link had satisfied a craving he had sought to sate for years, seeing Kira again only reminded him of how much he thirsted for her.
All afternoon he had wanted to announce his presence and to release her, but his resolve had wavered as his mind ached to wrap humanoid arms around her. Watching her play with the O'Brien children had reminded him of their differences. They could never have children together naturally and he could never be more than a part-time father to adopted children. Nerys would never touch his mind in the same way that the link touched it. She was locked in her fragile, finite body while he could morph into infinite possibilities and would outlive her by centuries. She honored her Prophets with an unconditional devotion; he honored her.
Just before dawn, one window of the darkened cottage glowed with life, and he flitted to a lower branch to see better. Framed in the oval window, Kira Nerys stood, arms hugging her blade-thin body clad in a soft peach nightshirt. Against her pale features, her auburn hair shimmered like fire in the light. Somehow her dark eyes had caught his movement within the tree, and sought his position with a quick, darting motion before resting upon him. For a moment, he wondered if she recognized him, if she saw him despite the dark brown feathers edged in tan.
Dismissing all questions from his mind, he fell to earth, landing within a streak of moonlight before conjuring up his familiar humanoid form. For several moments she stood at the window, her eyes drinking in his rough, unfinished face even as he feasted on the soft, mobile features of hers. Desire overcame fear, and within minutes he felt the warmth of her body within his arms, her lips hungrily caressing his.
"Nerys," he whispered as he broke their kiss. "The Charyon picked up an escape pod from a damaged. . . ."
A slender finger to his lips forestalled the story. "I don't care about that," she said with a finality that surprised him. She sighed and rested her forehead against his chest. He felt her soft breath against the fabric of the tunic he had formed. "Just tell me you want to stay here with me. Be with me."
He held her still, her words echoing against him. "Nerys," he said finally, "what kind of life is this for you?" Kira stiffened in his arms, old scars opened and raw as she pulled away from him. Even in the moonlight he could see her face, the shadows outlining the emotions he'd laid bare.
"Is that why you've been watching us?"
He had forgotten how well she knew him. He had also forgotten how anger gave her strength and how fragile she could be beneath its facade. "I promised I would give you six months, Nerys." Without the need to communicate orally for months in the link, he knew his unpracticed voice sounded harsh and cold.
"If all I am is some kind of obligation, Odo, then you had better leave." Her voice echoed the same cold tone. He read the challenge in her posture, the pain in her eyes.
"Isn't that all this can be, Nerys?" Within in his own voice he heard traces of the old investigator calmly outlining the situation. "An obligation to serve both masters? In the end, I doubt that our needs will be served. I doubt they even care if we have needs."
Anger flared in her eyes, and for a moment, he remembered how this slight woman could intimidate both Klingons and Cardassians in her glare. "This isn't about serving others. Right now it's about what we want. It's not about obligations or promises. It's about how we feel."
"Nerys, I don't want you spending your life waiting for a better life."
"I release you, Odo." The words surprised them both. All life seemed drained from her face and for a second, Odo feared Kira would crumple to the ground. She caught her breath and stared into his eyes. "I am here because I love you. I'm not here for the Founders or for the Federation or for Bajor. I'm here because I want to be with you for whatever time we can have together."
"I love you," he whispered, willing his voice to carry the strength of his emotions across the gulf widening between them. "You deserve better, Nerys. You've always had to give up what you wanted to death or to the Prophets or to Bajor. I can't ask you to give up your happiness. I don't want you to be punished for a war you didn't start. I don't want your soul to be the price of peace in the Alpha Quadrant."
"That's not the whole truth, Odo." Her hands gripped his arms just above his liquid elbows, and had he been anyone else, the bruises would flare gloriously blue and purple-black from her fingers. "I'm not the Great Link," she offered, her voice tinged with regret. "As much as I love you, I can never give you that."
For a moment, he could say nothing, but stand there with the fiery truth of her words careening recklessly within his mind. He ached for both the collective mind of the Great Link and the singular character of the woman in his arms. Somehow, in her presence, the Great Link's hold on him diminished and he felt a softening of the resolve he had formed. He couldn't give up this woman in his arms for the Great Link and he knew he couldn't give up the link for Kira Nerys.
His honesty flared and for a moment, he stood unsure of how to make a break with Kira or even if he really wanted to free her. In the end, honesty damned them both and he gathered Kira closer to him.
"The Great Link doesn't have you," he replied, his voice as rough and smooth as velvet. "It doesn't have you, Kira Nerys," he repeated against her lips.
He awoke, his gelid form wrapped in thin cloth on a padded surface that bucked beneath him. While the tremors that rocked him did not seem to be dangerous, he little doubted they were meant to force him from the bed. With an ease of having been six months with solids, he donned his humanoid form complete with casual Bajoran attire, both surprising and delighting the young boy at the foot of the bed. In turn, the sight of the small boy with dark eyes watching his transformation charmed Odo who held out his hand toward Yoshi. In his palm he formed a jia'va for the youngest O'Brien who timidly reached out a finger to stroke the back of the amphibian.
"Yoshi!" came the Irish tenor of Chief O'Brien. "You're not supposed to be in here." Odo beamed at the boy whose wide-eyed wonder held him captive as Miles O'Brien wrapped large hands around his son's waist and swung him to his hip. "I'm sorry, Odo, he's been impossible all morning. Frankly, he seems to mind better for Keiko or Nerys. A mother's touch," O'Brien noted with a wry smile.
"Any word, Chief?" Odo asked as he allowed the jia'va to melt into the surface of his palm. Yoshi's eyes reflected the same wonder he had had months earlier when Kira had shown him how the amphibian's secretion could alter a kekaw's leaf. Odo watched the boy with his own child-like delight.
"They said they'd be here in time for the picnic," the Chief offered as Yoshi began to squirm from his clasp. "Probably the Captain and Kira got tied up on station business. Don't worry, Keiko will make sure they get here."
Odo answered O'Brien's shrug with a nod and slowly unfolded himself from the bed. Six months with Kira had reaped the unexpected benefit of once again being woven into the fabric of family life on DS9. He knew that Kira's dearest friends on the station now were closing ranks around her to provide support as his time among them drew to a end. Somehow a quiet vacation at the cottage had turned into an excuse for the denizens of DS9 to hold a picnic on Bajor. Outside the cottage he could hear the familiar voices of Dr. Bashir and Jake Sisko, O'Brien's children, and Dax. He half expected to hear Quark, but thought with some regret about the Ferengi who had remained behind on the station to "tend to business" rather than pretend he agreed with Odo's decision to leave.
As he made his way past the cooking pit being tended to by the younger Sisko, Odo marveled at the simple harmony he had found with these humanoids in this place he loved. Even now, in the waning days of summer, the land around the cottage radiated hope as kushnari blossomed and the Bajoran countryside burst into spontaneous concerts with the songs of insects and birds. The my'arya blossoms by the creek lent their voices to the air around them, catching the slight breeze along their ridged leaves, to send whistled notes to join with others. Odo not only felt the changing texture of the air around him, but heard the whispered truth upon the breeze.
He knew what it was to be human and part of a link with this place.
Kira found him near the water as he allowed the simple music of the my'arya to fill his simulated ears while he watched Yoshi and Molly racing imaginary pursuers within the field just beyond the crooked line of the creek. Well aware of her presence, Odo did not turn to her but spoke, his words a lyric for the concert around him.
"My people say that to become a thing is to know that thing. But they know so little of the joys of being humanoid. I'm not sure if I stayed with them for a millennium I could make them understand."
For several minutes they did not speak, but allowed the voices around them to chatter away. In the distance, Odo could hear the booming baritone of Benjamin Sisko explode into hearty ripples of laughter followed by smaller eddies of different tones. Finally, as Kira bent to sit next to him, Odo immediately turned and lent his hand to steady her progress. With his arm wrapped around her shoulders, Odo threw a wish to Kira's Prophets, not sure that they would hear his infidel words.
"Your people don't believe they have a pagh," Kira offered to the silence between them. "They can take the form of a rock or flower or bird. But without a pagh, they really have no idea what being humanoid is."
Odo turned to drink in the features of the woman next to him. The breeze played with her auburn hair, allowing the sun to find various hues of gold dappled red within the short tresses. She faced the creek, her dark eyes remaining focused on the children twirling and weaving amid the wildflowers just beyond the water. From the corner of her eye radiated tiny lines that creased to life as she squinted at the sunlight peaking its own way through a mercurial cloud. "The Charyon will be at the station in three days," she said quietly, tonelessly.
"To take me back to Hades across the River Styx," he added.
Startled, her brown eyes met his blue ones, and for a moment, Odo smiled despite the sadness that seemed to surround them lately. "I always thought. . . ," Kira began, but Odo silenced her with a kiss.
"Demeter gave life to Persephone. Kira Nerys gave life to Odo Ital," he continued, kissing her closed eyelids. "You make me believe I have a pagh, a soul. You see my spirit in whatever I become, Nerys."
As he held her face in his hands, Odo felt the first traces of tears meet against his thumbs. Rather than wipe them away, he formed a small pocket in his hands to hold them as talismans against the next six months with the Founders. He kissed her again and felt the brief storm pass as her arms circled his neck.
Despite their unspoken agreement, despite his own resolve, Odo felt his soul burn as he thought of leaving her, the tears in his hands still fiery with Kira's heat. "I'll convince them to let me stay with you," he whispered urgently against her skin. "They're my people. They'll have to understand. They can't keep me with them when my place is with you. When I love you."
Odo felt Kira stiffen in his arms against his words of cruel hope, and suddenly he understood how Persephone might have bargained with her lover or mother to find one true place to live. But, if he believed the story, Persephone's bargain might plunge the world into perpetual summer or winter. Ultimately, the price of peace would give him none no matter whose peace he bought.
"You'll be back in six months, Odo. Or a year." Her chocolate brown eyes seemed to melt into tiny pools of sorrow. "Or never." Her eyes, always a mirror of her underlying emotions, betrayed a faint hope that he would not leave her forever. She blinked, and Odo could see the hardness of the former Resistance fighter take control. Kira drew in a deep breath and continued. "You have to do what's best for you, Odo. That's all I want."
Her lips met his. The tears he had collected earlier from her burned hot within him.
As they both retreated from the kiss, Kira drew from behind her a small package wrapped in a silvery cloth. "Here, this is for you." As the folds fell around his palm, he could see a small jia'va in her hand. "I spent the better part of the year making this for you. It almost looks like a jia'va," she explained wryly.
Odo's blue eyes took in the greenish-yellow clay amphibian on his palm. From the creature's powerful hind legs to its almost bemused expression, Odo saw a rough delicacy in the creature. Somehow, his lover had fought her impatient, impulsive self to create this tiny bit of art that looked remarkably like the small amphibian. While it seemed still raw in form, he pronounced it more beautiful than all the jia'avas Yoshi and Molly had collected that day. As his eyes met hers, she gathered her courage and tried to smile.
"An artist friend of mine helped me make this. It took me almost a year. I wanted you to have it because it reminds me of you. How you've lived in two worlds." Her eyes locked with his. "You have a beautiful soul, Odo. Your pagh is strong. And as much as I love you, as much as I will always love you, Odo, you have to choose your own path. If I'm not . . . if I am not a part of that path, Odo, or if it's too difficult a journey, I'll understand."
"Nerys. . . ," he started, then paused as he felt his own tumultuous emotions overwhelm him. Tears washed down Kira's face, but the storm remained brief and he began to wipe them away, carefully storing more of her liquid anguish in his gelid form. "My people. . . ." As much as he wanted to explain that his own people would never willingly give him back to the solids, that to continue the changing seasons of their lives would only bring them both continuous sorrow and pain, he could not. He wanted her. He needed her in his life if only for what might be a brief moment in his long existence. "I will come back in six months. I promise."
He saw the joy mix with grief in her eyes before drawing her into his arms, her face pressed against his shoulder. She would live in an emotional winter for another six months. He would descend into the Underworld and take his place within the Great Link. The seasons would continue.
He felt his own soul ache as if someone were pulling him apart. He heard Kira's ragged breathing against him and the cries of children at play and thought how truly selfish humanoid souls could be. And how fragile. No wonder, he thought, my people have no souls.