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Author's Chapter Notes:

I originally wanted to wait until I start this story but... The plot bunny was so insistent :(

So here is how it's going down:

This story is roughly based on a song of one of my favorite bands. I will include the song (plus translation, for it is a German band), at THE END of the story, so as not to spoil the surprise for anyone.

However, it is not solely based on this song; there are plenty of own ideas :)

There are Vulcans in this AU, but they have no telepathic abilities. They are very repressed with their feelings and behave like they are doing after the reform of Surak, but... yeah. No touch telepaths. And they are therefore a little bit more prone in showing emotions. A LITTLE BIT.

It won't be as long as my other fiction 'Strength', but I think it will be a sweet and short thrill ride.

And nooooow: There goes the first establishing chapter.....



The human gently tugged on the reins, causing the grey mare underneath him to instantly come to a halt just shy of stepping onto the solid, wooden drawbridge that connected the land over the moat with the vast land that held the impressive castle in front of him. The thick stones of the walls were nearly black due to the rain from the past days that thankfully had stopped a few hours prior and given his garb a chance to start drying.

When the man shifted slightly in the saddle, his handsome face scrunched up in annoyed disgust at the wet squelching sound that emitted. He was still wet to the bone.

He was slightly drawn forward by the reins he still held loosely in his hands, when the horse gently huffed, shaking its head and simultaneously drawing the long neck forward.

“You are glad to be back home, eh, Enterprise?”, he murmured to his grey lady. During his endless travels between the vast kingdoms, she had become his best and closest ally. He had to thank his lady for his life more often than not; she was an excellent watchdog and had warned him of numberless ambushes by now, when he had been forced to sleep outside due to him being broke at the moment or simply no tavern in sensible riding distance.

The horse huffed again; her wide stomach noticeably extending between his legs in what the man fancied was exasperation. He laughed silently.

“You’re right. Come – up we go.”, he murmured and clicked with his tongue. The mare immediately started walking again, her hooves leaving smudged prints on the wet wood of the drawbridge.

The guards on either side of the gate looked at him with expressionless faces.

Only their upswept eyebrows told of the fact that they were not of human heritage, for their pointed ears were covered by protective helmets. They held long spears in their gloved hands, but they didn’t raise them – they knew the human on the grey mare well enough.

And he really was a sight one didn’t forget quickly; he was, after all, always wearing the same, peculiar garments; a long, yellow coat, that went down to the ankles of his booted feet and that had a long slice reaching up to the small of the human’s back, which allowed the two flaps of fabric to comfortably hang down on either side of the mare while he was riding.

The waistcoat underneath was of a ruby red colour – dirty looking and pretty run down. The tight trousers he wore seemed midnight blue in their soggy state and were stuffed inside high boots, whose supple leather hugged the calves of the rider almost up to his knees.

Most curious, though, was the fact, that the man was, despite this ridiculous get-up a most extraordinary handsome man. He did not even try to hide the impressive musculature under the shrill coloured garments and his golden face that was topped by wild, blonde hair, always seemed to have an easy-going smile.

Not, that it would’ve impressed the inhabitants of this particular kingdom.

He deeply bowed his head, raising his gloved right hand to his forehead and tipping at it, as if tipping a hat he did not wear and nearly sang: “Good day to you two!”

He did not wait for a response; it would not come – it never came. The only reaction of the two guards was to simultaneously plonk the ends of their spears onto the wood of the drawbridge and step a little aside in order to make room for the rider.

The pale lips were curled upwards into a smile full of satisfaction, while he was riding through the muddy streets, turning his head every which way in order to observe the hustle and bustle of life around him.

Serious faces turned when he and his lady passed. Only a few acknowledged his enthusiastic greetings with tight nods or – on one or two occasions – with slightly raised hands. He was no stranger in this kingdom, although he was so very different from all these people. Vulcans. They were a most peculiar bunch; but the man loved them dearly.

They were without a fault polite and hard working individuals; keeping to themselves and – most admirable and astounding in these hard times – helping each other out. A tightly knit community.

Although their lips were customarily pressed into thin, reprimanding lines, the man could feel the contentment radiating from them – even though they currently were wading in mud due to the long, rainy days. This people were content with their lives, taking only what they needed and it was like a fresh breath of air for the human every time he came into the thick walls of the king’s court.

The man raised his head and hazel eyes twinkled in excitement, when they caught sight of the tall castle that was straining heavenwards. A deep tingling of anticipation made his stomach flip and he had to hide his broad grin behind a slight cough, lowering his head quickly and nudging the flanks of Enterprise.

“Come on, lady. I can’t wait to get back in there.”, he murmured urgently and the grey mare walked a little faster; her hooves emitting squelching sounds, when they were raised from the muddy ground. The horse unerringly found its way through alleys and streets; she knew the castle town as well as her master did, who wrapped the ends of the reins a few times around the horn of the saddle, so he had his hands free and drew the shining lute forward from where she was strapped over his back.

His broad grin vanished slightly, when he heard the sloshing sound inside the hollow body. Cursing under his breath he tipped his instrument around in order to divest it of the rainwater that had gathered inside.

As soon as that was done, he cradled the instrument to his breast and started to play, giving his euphoria of being back once more, a mirthful melody to go with.

His fingers danced across the strings and his white teeth blinked almost maniacal when he saw one or two Vulcan’s that could not hide the upward curling of their lips.

God, he loved these reticent people.

A few children were trotting by his side, while he was playing. They were wearing the same solemn faces of their parents, though the curiosity about this strange, golden creature was showing in their dark eyes.

The rider always enjoyed watching the children of this kingdom. They were – well, not exactly ‘well fed’, but definitely not starving and he could see no bruises on their clean faces.

Soon enough, though,  they were scattering again, seemingly remembering chores they yet had to fulfil.

He finished playing and slung the lute back across his shoulders, when Enterprise came to a halt in front of a large building – the inn.

Just as he gingerly slid out of the saddle with a sigh – his boots sinking deep into the mud – the door opened and the owner, a tall Vulcan that went by the name of Strak, strolled outside. His roughly hewn features were solemn, when he bowed in front of the colourfully dressed human.

“It has been a long time, James. Will you be staying a few days?”

James Tiberius Kirk beamed at him, while absently pulling his coat out of the mud.

“I definitely hope so, Strak! I’ve got a few gold coins – how about a nice, hot bath. It won’t do to come strutting muddy and dirty into the castle. His Highness won’t be liking that.”

Dark, unreadable eyes gazed at him, while the innkeeper caught hold of Enterprise’s reins.

“No, that won’t do. Especially since there is to be a celebration tomorrow and there have been preparations for days to get the castle polished from top to bottom.”, he said gravely, while guiding the horse around the back of the wooden house to where the stables were.

Kirk followed, hazel eyes alight with curiosity.

“What is the celebration for?”, he asked, leaning in the doorjamb and watching as Strak handed the care of his lady over to the stable boy.

The Vulcan turned back to him and slowly shook his head.

“We are, as of yet, not privy to the details. The castle keeps the information to itself.”

Kirk shrugged slightly.

“Well, no problem. I’ll get it out of someone; no one can keep quiet, when the Jester doesn’t want it.”


James moaned, as he gingerly let his body sink deeper into the steaming water that was filling the wooden washtub. The thick muscles on his thighs bunched, when he drew his knees up to his chest in order to fit into the tight confines more or less comfortably.

He leaned back, trying to submerge his broad shoulders and absently rubbing over the long, ropey scar that began at his left collarbone and wound itself back over his shoulder. It had the habit of getting stiff and painful, if the weather was too cold and moist for too long. It was nothing, though, that would keep his spirits down for long.

He let is head fall back against the rim of the tub and stared at the rough ceiling. A lazy grin tugged at the corners of his pale mouth, while he rubbed the washcloth across the tanned skin of his body, trying to get as much grime and dirt from his person as possible. If everything went as expected he would need to be as clean as humanly possible.

The lazy grin on his face went broader and happier and he enthusiastically went to task, while whistling.

After he had cleaned himself – very quickly, water doesn’t stay nice and warm for a long time –, he went on cleaning his coat as best as he could. It was a tricky task for the coat wasn’t simply ‘a coat’. It had countless hidden and secret pockets sewn into its fabric that were holding all the... equipment he needed for his profession. It wouldn’t do to get anything wetter than it needed to be.


The sun was slowly but surely on her way down, tinting the dull, grey sky faintly apricot, when the Jester set foot upon the lowest of the broad, flat stairs that were leading up to the magnificent entrance of the castle.

His lady Enterprise was still back at the Inn – he wanted to grant her a few hours of rest. They had been travelling pretty long, after all. He had made a painstaking effort to keep his long coat out of the mud on his way to the front gate and he produced a cloth he had bought from Strak in order to wipe his boots clean, before he gingerly opened the rough knot of the to flaps of fabric in front of his stomach and let them down once again.

When he was certain that everything was as it should be, he started the short way up towards the four guards that were standing protectively in front of the entrance to the castle. They were stubbornly pretending to stare straight ahead, but James knew these Vulcans well enough by now to be pretty sure that they had watched the strange antics of the human at the bottom step with confusion and wonderment.

Every step he took was followed by the silent, unobtrusive chime of little bells; although none were to be seen on his person.

James remembered all to well the long – LONG – day roughly 4 years in the past, when he had started the Jester-business and procured his coat. He had sewn the bells himself under the yellow fabric; and he really was none of these men who had been taught by his mother how to do it. If one looked very closely, one could still see all the little, white dots in his left pointer finger, where the needle had struck countless times.

His love had asked him once, why he had sewn the little bells inside his coat instead of outside and he had had to grin, while he answered: “If I learned one thing, than that it is unwise to travel the streets of these lands, glittering and glimmering in gold all over.”

When thinking of his love, a tight flutter spread through his gut and his step quickened, until he stood level with the four guards.

“State your name and business.”, said one of them, slowly turning his head and staring at him. They all knew him, but unlike the guards at the entrance to the castle town, these ones never let anyone through without asking. He played with it and bowed deeply, his left arm pressed to his stomach, his right arm thrust behind him in the air, while he bowed his left knee and thrust his right leg straight in front of him, the heel clacking as he pressed it onto the stone.

“James Tiberius Kirk – Jester extraordinaire – at your service. I seek to only amuse and lift sorrows and burdens from the shoulders of King Sarek.”, he intoned with a mischievous grin towards the stone floor.

A light huff answered him from the Vulcan who had spoken and while he slipped inside the castle, another one said with as much dignity as he could muster, while he practically goggled at the human: “Wait here, Jester. We will announce your presence.”

James nodded, a secret smile playing about his pale lips, while he was bouncing on the balls of his feet. He LOVED these Vulcans. In no other kingdom was a Jester announced like a man of high rank; like a gentleman. Normally he had to play hours on hours in front of the castle until the King or Queen got curious and sent for him.

But not here. Not with the Vulcans. Uh-uh, no siree.

It took a few minutes, until the guard came back and James passed the time by drawing his lute from his back and starting to play for the three Vulcans. He could see the softening of the lines around their mouths as a reaction to the mirthful playing and let his lips curl upward.

“You may enter, Jester. The King is highly pleased with your appearance; he has a request for you.”, the guard said, when he finally emerged out of the castle.

James stopped playing, cradling his lute to his chest, while he bowed deeply again.

“Thank you.”, he said simply, before he was led inside by a maid. He did not really need a guide. He knew the castle well; he was a common guest since he had arrived here some day two years prior.

The human did not strap the instrument back over his shoulders; he kept her cradled in both arms like a life line, while the fluttering in his stomach became ever more pronounced with each step.

They were walking through long hallways and huge doors and James bit his bottom lip in an effort to restrain himself and not run past the maid in order to gallop into the throne room.

He almost wanted to pat his own back when they finally arrived and he hadn’t succumbed to the urge.

When they entered, his whole being seemed to explode like the rays of the sun that suddenly peeked over the top of the mountains surrounding this kingdom, as his gaze immediately focussed upon the single most important person in his life.

His master, his friend, his lover. His everything.

Prince Spock – standing regal and deliciously upright, hands clasped behind his back – positioned on his customary place just behind the empty chair of the late Queen Amanda.

The dark, chocolate eyes were fixed upon the human and although the narrow, austere face was as neutral as ever James had the feeling that the Prince was beaming inside just as the Jester was currently outwardly grinning and strutting with a buoyed step towards the thrown.

“Milord!”, he exclaimed and bowed deeply before Sarek, King of these lands. The Vulcan slightly tilted his greying head in greeting; his intelligent eyes fixing the odd human.

James gave slight start when he saw the King. He looked much worse than the last time he had seen him; eyes dull, skin pale and paper-like. He looked thin and unhealthy and it made his heart ache for the man. He was a good King; kind and benevolent, even if he didn’t show it outwardly. The state and attitude of his people were enough to attest for his character.

The Jester had to actively bite the tip of his tongue in order not to blurt something out that really was not his due. The desperate moment passed to his relief.

“Jester. It’s been a long time since your last visit. We almost thought you had abandoned us in favour for these new continents that are rumoured to be about.”, he said, contemplating the human in front of him. Golden eyebrows shot up in wonderment. He had heard of these rumours as well but had not thought that the King would have an interest in them.

Then again; these Vulcans seemed pretty smart and curious for the most part, so it probably should not come as such a surprise. His dazzling smile that had slightly slid off his face during his confusion came back tenfold and he bowed again deeply – this time in the same overdone fashion from before; one arm clutching the lute, the other thrust in the air.

“I’d never just up and leave my most favourite of all people, Milord. It’s just not in my tiny, frail human heart.”, he enthused, while turning his head ever so slightly and peeking towards Prince Spock, whose mouth was curled up minutely at the corners.

James’ knees started trembling and he had to right himself quickly for fear he’d collapse right then and there. The dark eyes of the King crinkled in slight amusement at the corners and he raised his hand in order to slowly rub over his chin.

“Be that as it may; we are more than aware of your need for freedom and your distinct reluctance of being put into shackles of any kind. So the thought wasn’t as far fetched as you would like to make it sound.”, he intoned gravely and the Jester tilted his head in acknowledgement, before bringing his right hand to his lute and thrumming a few notes, while exclaiming: “AAahhh but WHO does want to be kept in shackles, Milord? I simply could not live with myself, knowing that I am depriving other courts of the joy of listening to my art. The day I bind myself to one King only would be a dark day for every kingdom, indeed.”

James saw his love ever so slightly roll his eyes and had to actively work on keeping a straight face, while he still played a fast melody on his lute.

The King’s eyes seemed to light up from the inside at the antics of the Jester and he leaned slightly forward.

“What a dark day, indeed. I – “

“What’s going on here? The ruckus is to be heard straight down to the courtyard!”

James’ playing abruptly ceased, when he heard the unthinkable: someone dared to interrupt the King. The jaw of the Jester fell open and he had to crane his neck backwards in order to see who had the audacity to fall into the Kings words.

A tall, burly looking Vulcan was strutting into the King’s throne room like he owned the place. James’ golden eyebrows drew slightly together, when he saw the fine garments the man was wearing. He had to be of very high rank in order to be able to afford these luxurious fabrics. James found his presence of mind just in time to murmur a silent: “Milord...” and bow deep while stepping to the side, when the Vulcan strode past him and right up to the throne of King Sarek who had his forehead creased in a thoughtful gesture.

“Did you need anything?”, Sarek said with clear reprimand in his voice. The burly Vulcan huffed but smiled.

“I needed your help.”, he murmured. The King frowned, but nodded slowly, before looking back to the Jester.

“I have a request to make, Jester.”, he said, clasping his hands slowly together in front of him. James’ hazel eyes were calculating; almost cold, while his lips slowly stretched into an insincere smile.

“Everything, Milord.”

“Come back tomorrow evening and play for us on the feast that is to be held.”

James bowed deeply, slightly shifting so that all the tiny, hidden bells were tingling their sweet music.

“It would be an honour, Milord.”, he said, throwing the Vulcan next to the King a searching look. Dark eyes stared back at him in reprimand and almost disgust and when he turned and walked back to the entrance of the thrown room, he could clearly hear the muttered: “What are you doing, associating with a HUMAN?!”

James’ gut tightened and he ground his teeth together.


He only had the silver light of the moon to go by, when he sneaked around the walls of the castle. However, it was more than enough; James knew his way around and especially this way was one he had utilized more times than he cared to admit.

He kept to the shadows, because although he had left his colourful coat back in the Inn, Vulcans had very neat eyesight even at night and it would not do to get caught by one of the guards just steps away from his goal.

James crossed the little alley towards the bushes surrounding the more-or-less low wall that was encasing the large back garden of the castle. Guards were patrolling at even intervals around the perimeter and he had to press himself flat against the stones one time, not daring to even breath, while one of them slowly strode past him.

His heart was beating heavily in his chest, while he listened for the fading footsteps.

‘I have to make my move. And fast.’, he thought, while his hazel eyes searched the seemingly flat stone surface for –


A row of indentations that were just prominent enough for, say, a human with his supple leather boots and wily climbing instincts, to find purchase and scramble it up like a squirrel.

His pale lips were forming silent prayers over and over again, while he emerged out of the protection of the bushes and put his hands on top of the stones. This was the most dangerous part of this whole situation; he was in plain sight and would not be able to dodge, if any of the guards spotted him and decided to throw that long, sharp spear towards his unprotected back.

Alas, he was – once again – lucky and a broad, cocky grin spread across his face, when he swung his legs over the wall and let himself drop quickly onto the soft, bouncing grass on the other side.

“James, you are a genius...”, he whispered to himself, rubbing his gloved hands together.

He was just about to raise his head and orient himself in the little circle of bushes and trees he was standing in, when rough hands grabbed him, turning him around and pressing him face first roughly into the unyielding stone.

His gut tightened like the fist of a giant was seizing it and his heart skipped a beat, until a hot, hard body pressed itself against his back and a deep, velvet baritone voice – the one he had dreamed off ever since he had departed – murmured into his ear: “James, you are not the genius you think you are...”

He let out a breath of relief and immediately relaxed all his tense muscles. A lazy grin slowly spread across his tanned face and his mellifluous voice was deep and throaty when he murmured: “You have to admit, that I have my moments. Although next to YOUR intellect I’m the dumb son of a potato farmer, I’m afraid... my Prince.”

Another, hard shove against his shoulder blades pressed all air out of his lungs and made him gasp. The baritone voice was cold, as it hissed: “Don’t call me that.”

A hot, slender hand descended between his legs and cupped the beginnings of what promised to be a very enticing erection. James closed his eyes and emitted a faint moan.

“I’ll call you whatever you want, if you keep doing that...”, he whispered, while trying to grind himself against the oh-so-delicious pressure.

Strong teeth nibbled at his earlobe and the hand that up until now had held him against the stone by exerting pressure just at the base of his neck, vanished in order for the arm to snake around his torso and pull him back into the slender, strong body of the Prince.

“You’ve been away for too long...”, Spock murmured and came with his head around, so he could see the face of his human. James turned his head and was nose to nose with his love. A hot prickling exploded in his belly, as he found himself all of a sudden so close to the creature of his nightly dreams, that he could even taste his sweet breath.

“Two months... Had so much to do...”, he murmured, his lips searching for the other mouth. Spock drew his head slightly back, while the heel of his hand massaged James’ erection through the fabric of his trousers and simultaneously ground his own hardness against the enticing curve of the muscled ass.

The human moaned in disappointment.

“Give me your lips.”, he growled, ducking his head forward and again trying to get a kiss. Spock, however, drew his head teasingly away.

“Will you tell me of your new adventures?”, he asked. James paused slightly, watching intently the soft, brown eyes. Although the pale face was austere and expressionless, the eyes of the Prince never were. Right now they were shining with everything he so obviously felt; happiness about the reunion, unbridled lust at the close proximity of his mate and deep, thirsting curiosity.

Prince Spock was the most extraordinary creature James had ever encountered. Although he had been raised in the castle as the Prince and future King, there was no Vulcan in this kingdom that was more adventurous and –at times – crude than this beautiful specimen.

James grinned breathlessly.

“Yes. I’ll tell you. Now – do I get my treat?”, he said, grinding his buttocks against the twitching, hot length. Spock growled.

“You’ll get even more than that.”, he purred against the expecting lips of his mate, before pushing the human with ease to the ground.

“Hey...!”, James complained. He wanted to struggle back upright but froze where he knelt, when he felt clever, agile fingers at the clasps and drawstrings of his trousers.

“Yessss....”, he whispered, when Spock slightly clicked with his tongue in reprimand and placed one calm hand between his shoulder blades, pressing him unerringly forward and onto all fours. He knew what was coming now. He had prepared for it, he had....

“AAhhh!!”, he almost howled, when his trousers and undergarments were lowered from the soft curve of his buttocks, allowing his hard erection to bob free of its confinements.

“Shhht!”, came the reprimand from the velvet voice behind him. He could feel the air on the cheeks of his behind and raised it in open, lusty invitation.

“Please... Spock...”, he rasped and broadened the stance of his knees as best he could with his trousers still restricting him. The soft, cultivated hands of the Prince grabbed the muscled globes and spread them. A deep growl emitting from the Vulcan.

“You don’t know how perfect you look... Kneeling before me in the moonlight... your arse spread and your hole winking at me, while your testicles are peeking ‘just so’ out between your thighs. You are marvellous.”, Spock intoned with the solemn severity only a Vulcan could muster.

James’ eyes rolled back into his head, when only seconds later he felt hot breath on his yearning hole and then the hot, incredible tip of that alien tongue on the twitching outer rim.

The Jester let himself fall onto his elbows, so he could sink his teeth deeply into the fabric covering his arm. He had to stifle his scream or else they would be caught by one of the many guards patrolling inside and outside of the royal garden.

And GOD was it ever intoxicating to hear this cultivated, severe voice say these deliciously naughty words; and the fact that that incredible pointed tongue currently licking his wanton hole open belonged to the Prince of this kingdom... the PRINCE!!... always made his head spin anew.

“Spock... Spock... Spock...”, James whispered like a mantra, grinding himself back onto the face between his buttocks, while sharp teeth gently nipped at his quivering, aching ring of muscle and a clever, slender hand dipped between his thighs in order to cradle his heavy balls and rub them enticingly.

A thin thread of pre-cum was slowly dripping from the head of his cock down to the ground. He fancied that he probably could’ve split rocks with his manhood by now and it gave a hard twitch at the fact that Spock just shoved his devilish tongue as far as he could inside the writhing, human body. He probably would have come right then and there, if Spock had not drawn his testicles away from his body, forestalling his completion effectively.

“You are so perfect for me... Have missed you... Over two months, James, over two months...”, the Prince murmured, when he finally emerged from his task of licking the enticingly twitching pucker and drove two of his long, slender fingers inside the yearning hole.

James almost choked in his effort to remain silent and he raised his head and threw a heated glance over his shoulder.

“I swear to everything that is good and true, Spock. If you don’t get inside me right this second, I will make you PAY for it the next time I get my hands on your pretty, royal behind and.... OH!”

He pressed his hands against his open, panting mouth, when the Vulcan drew his fingers out of him and – raising his slanted eyebrows distinctly unimpressed with the threats – plunged his dripping erection into the human underneath.

However, once encased by the hot tightness of James’ sweet satin ass, the Prince couldn’t keep his cool any longer. His eyes drifted shut and his mouth fell open in silent praise, while he started pounding inside his love.

They were moving in perfect unison; they had done this often enough and even if they were separated for several weeks, they never seemed to get estranged from the sweet, natural rhythm of their lovemaking.

James grinned like a lunatic, while his gloved fingers burrowed into the soft, bouncy grass and he rocked back against the insistent strokes of his Prince, like his life depended on it.

‘God, but I love these Vulcans...’


After they had come to their panting and growling completion – and it had been so damn hard not to sing Spock’s praise into the heaven, when that glorious double ridged cock had started rubbing his prostate in earnest and not just grazing it every now and again – they had more or less cleaned themselves with a few clothes Spock had produced from one of his many inner pockets. The Vulcan was almost as secretive as James.

The two men were lying next to one another in the grass, trying to catch their breath. While he was still panting, James slowly turned his head towards Spock and was startled into a broad grin, when he realized that the soulful, brown eyes were already fixed on him. He slowly patted the ground next to his hip until he felt the silky, hot skin of Spock’s hand and entwined their fingers. He brought their hands up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the soft knuckles.

“Do I get my treat now?”, he whispered; his dark voice gravelly and rough. Spock snorted slightly, but leaned over nonetheless in order to steal a kiss from the pale, human lips.

They were enjoying the slight pressure and enticing sliding of soft skin against skin for a few moments, before James drew away and looked into the face of his love with a solemn expression that almost screamed ‘we need to talk’.

“What is up in the castle? Your father looked like hell. Is he ill? He didn’t even look like that when...”

He could not bring himself to say it out loud. The death of the Queen Amanda still was fresh and a most tender place; like a sore tooth one tried not to worry at.

Three months ago the usually vital and strong Queen had suddenly found her death; her illness had been fast and severe and even though the King had sent immediately for every possible physician, it had been way too late.

James had been there at the funeral; secretly sitting on the low wall and watching with a solemn expression as the coffin had been carried into the mausoleum. Upon seeing King Sarek’s face he would have thought that the King had died with his wife. She had been the love of his live – his everything and his deep pain was only too visible for once on the drawn Vulcan face and in the way he had to heavily lean onto his son.

James remembered all too well the way Spock had pressed himself against him that night after her funeral; how the young Vulcan had desperately sought for every scrap of warmth and comfort he could get.

He was brought back into the present by the Prince huffing in annoyance and sitting up in the grass of the little clearing they were in.

“I don’t know. In the last two months he got steadily weaker. He assures me that everything is all right, but... I can’t get to him. Not like I used to. Not since...”

James caught on pretty quickly and he came to sit in front of Spock. His sparkling hazel eyes stared at him inquisitively.

“Who IS that guy?”

Spock raised one prim eyebrow and slightly tilted his chin forward in an arrogant gesture.

“His name is Sjinn and he is for all intents and purposes my Uncle.”

“For all intents an purposes?”

“I’ve never seen him before. If I understand it correctly, he and my father have been estranged these last twenty years, because my father has become king – not he. I don’t know where he has been, but suddenly he’s back.”

Spock raised his empty, pale hands into the air as a symbol for his confusion. James frowned and slowly shook his head.

“That does not sound at all like the Vulcans I know. None of you people seems interested in leadership.”

Spock’s dark eyes fixed upon his lover and he said with very clear enunciation: “As far as I am concerned, Sjinn is no ordinary Vulcan, James.”

The two were silent for a few moments; tilting their heads back and staring into the dark sky above. Myriads of stars were peacefully blinking back at them.

“What is the celebration for tomorrow?”, the human asked at last. Spock sighed and slowly got to his feet; although he very obviously was tired after their exertions, his movements still were as graceful and as fluid as ever.

His standing up also marked the ending of their little meeting; they never could afford to be together for longer than an hour. James felt the usual resentment at the thought; there was so much more he wanted and needed to talk about with his love.

Spock helped James onto his feet, while he answered: “My father thought it prudent to properly welcome his lost brother back into our folds.”

James watched his Prince with slightly narrowed eyes.

“You don’t like him much, do you?”

“No. But I can’t tell it father; even if he DID listen... I can’t bring it over myself. He had been so happy to have one part of his family back. He was so lonely after mother’s death, James...”

The human raised his hand, stroking over the cheek of the young Vulcan. Absently he thought that they both needed to shave again.

“And what about you? How did you fare the last two months?”, he murmured. Spock took a step backward and crossed his arms loftily in front of his chest.

“I pined away for you... do you want to hear that?”, he said and raised his left eyebrow oh-so-eloquently. James grinned slightly and it broadened when the Prince continued: “I did no such thing of course. I continued my studies of everything that caught my fancy.”


A mischievous glint entered the dark eyes.


The blonde man tackled the other one, pinning him none too gently against the thick trunk of a tree and stifling a laugh against his smooth neck.

“God but it will be glorious when I finally take you out of the castle and with me onto my journeys...”

He heard Spock’s sigh, but the man simply curled his arms around his human and rested his head on the unruly mane of blonde hair.

They’ve had this conversation every now and again. James knew of Spock’s dearest wish to leave the castle and finally learn everything that was waiting outside the walls of the castle.

After Amanda’s death, however, this possibility seemed to have receded into the distance.


Later, when James was securely standing in an alley not far from the castle, watching the high walls with glimmering hazel eyes and a heart filled with all the joy and love for his Vulcan Prince, a broad grin spread his lips and let his teeth shine in the darkness.

“I AM going to marry you. You will be mine, Spock. And I will be yours. Just you wait.”, he murmured and rubbed his gloved hands together.

His lover may not believe that he had the guts, but...

‘Just wait and see.’, he thought.



Chapter End Notes:



You are probably just scratching your heads and you have so many questions.

Like for example.... how the hell did Spock and James meet in the first place?

Have no fear... everything will be answered in due time... :)


Hope you liked the subtle and not-so-subtle Star Trek references... XD

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