Title: Thean'heč Author: Arachnethe2 Series: TOS Code: G Disclaimer: Star Trek is the property of Paramount Pictures, this is a piece of amateur fan fiction, made for no profit. Summary: This is a story about the night visitor and a baby, which doesn't sleep. Rew'hain - 'awakened in the light' - the title for the Clan leader. Rai'c- the Vulcan cedar Thean'heč Written by Arachnehte2... ... for Pam His son wasn't asleep. Sarek sighed and turned off his terminal. He finished already the latest report and made an another very important analysis, and yes this article for the family forum has been done hours ago. And still, this little being in his arms wasn't asleep. Someday he will get used to it: to work through the whole night, to bear the suspicious looks of the other family members - their lifted eyebrows, whenever the young father appeared exhausted, with deep green rings under his eyes. For his son refused to sleep in the night. Better say, his little son refused to spend the night hours nowhere else but in Sarek's arms. If one would try to put him into his cradle only for a second then... ...his cry awakened the whole fine eared neighbourhood. With many apologises Sarek explained to the alarmed Vulcans, that neither his son doesn't wake up his parents with a sharp mental signal, nor that no one tried to make any harm to him. Since then, every night he spend in the living room, working, dictating and nursing his little son, who was silently watching him with his curious, dark eyes. Amanda joined them from time to time, whenever Sarek awakened her, or when she got awakened by the light in the living room. Sometimes they spend then together the rest of the night until the sunrise. But this Sarek didn't like to see. Amanda was still too pale, too thin and too exhausted after such long pregnancy. Every time he insisted, that she should go back to sleep. But sometimes she only shook her head, smiled gently and stayed with him. No, Sarek reminded himself, with them both. Holding the tiny baby a little closer, Sarek opened the large glass door and stepped out into the night garden. There weren't still much plants there. Only some roses, which Amanda brought from Earth and a large, old Rai'c, which stood close enough to the house, to shield its roof against the bright, Vulcan sun. But well, this house stood empty for many years, until, finally, he moved here together with his wife. Sarek made some steps toward the tree and looked around. He knew, that Amada will take care about the garden, as soon as she will get strong again and his son will get used to sleep through the whole night. Again he looked down at the tiny being in his arms and met a pair of curious, dark eyes, which didn't make any attempt to get closed. The Vulcan sighed: a stubborn baby! There were some soft steps behind him onto the sandy path. Immediately Sarek turned around to face the unexpected visitor. A small form, clad in a heavy desert robe stood in his garden. The dust of the desert covered the fabric of the cap and shoulders, a small hand in a leather glow held a sharp lirpa. In a sudden reflex, which simultaneously surprised him, Sarek made a step backward and pulled his son closer. But in the next moment the unknown person dropped its weapon and then the dusty cap slid down, revealing a sharp face with a pair of dark eyes, which demanded nothing less, than respect and obedience. "Rew'hain," Sarek bowed slightly, "what an honour for my house..." "Greetings son of Solkahr," T'Pau answered back. A short moment passed, before Sarek managed to get over his surprise and reminded himself onto his good manners. "The water of my house might be yours," he spoke out the traditional invitation and pointed with his hand toward the glass door of the living room. But T'Pau shook slightly her head: "tonight I prefer to stay here in the garden." "As you desire Rew'hain." T'Pau nodded and then her gaze slid to the baby in Sarek's arms. "My son," Sarek said. "How proud you sound, son of Solkahr." "It was a long way, T'Pau." "Yes," again the woman nodded, "it is a wonder, no one had thought it for possible." "Wonders are illogical..." Kaiidth! Sarek almost bit himself in his tongue. T'Pau's eyebrow lifted up, her eyes penetrated the Vulcan in front of her. "Yes Sarek, wonders are illogical. Yet still the old people and small children are claiming their existence." She turned then and went to the tree, sitting down, inviting Sarek to join her. A bit hesitantly the man obeyed. For a minute the old woman watched the rather neglected plants around them. "There is an old desert path right behind your garden," she said then, "which I'm following for years, whenever I'm returning back from the desert. And always, during the whole years I have found your house closed, dark and empty. It surprised me tonight, to see the light there, to smell the flowers in your garden for the first time, to see you standing there, with your son." Again, her gaze slid down onto the baby in Sarek's arms. Sarek looked down too, to meet a pair of dark, curious eyes. The boy lifted his hands, trying to reach the faces hovering above him. "My son doesn't sleep in the night." "That's the sign of the blood of the desert people in his veins, "T'Pau answered and reached after the baby. No! Suddenly Sarek got alarmed. The boy doesn't want to be anywhere else and if he will wake up all his neighbours again... But... kaiidth! Another illogical wonder! His son remained calm. He only sighed in satisfaction, while laying in the arms of the most respected Vulcan on the whole planet. Suddenly Sarek's own arms felt well...empty. Disturbed he pushed this thought aside, while watching a little shocked the woman, which was the incarnation of old traditions, power and legends to cradle his little stubborn son and... did he heard right? Singing! It was an old melody in an ancient language, which Sarek couldn't quiet recognise, nor understand. Except for one word: thean'heč - sleeping child. Listening to the unusual soft voice, he leaned back against the tree: 'thean'heč nkmaion'sa thean'heč sehev khe nd'sa sohwo sai'sen sohwo khai'nsen thsenan'kam thsenan'kam' T'Pau finished her song and looked down into her arms: a pair of black, curious eyes watched her calmly, while the boy chewed thoroughly onto her finger. She turned toward his father to find him soundly asleep, while slumping down a little. "You are a stubborn Vulcan," she said then softly to the baby and pulled her finger out of the tiny mouth. The boy whimpered slightly at the loss of such a fascinating object of his exploration. "Shhh...", T'Pau silenced him and then she put the baby to the father. Sarek's arms closed almost automatically around the tiny body. The Vulcan opened his eyes for a short moment, to immediately fall asleep again. "Sleep," T'Pau ordered gently to the boy and after a while, those dark and curious eyes closed. The old woman stood up, took her lirpa and a headed out of the garden. But then she had to turn and look back at the two sleeping Vulcans under the tree. She never thought, that one day she would use the words of the First People again. That she would ever sing this old, ancient lullaby. She had heard it once from her mother, herself, she sang it to her own children. Where are they all now? The sand of the desert covered their traces, the dry wind took away all the tears. There, outside of this neglected garden were the memories, written among the red dunes. Silently, T'Pau went back into the desert. "sleeping child in my arms sleeping child in my palms I'm your shelter I'm your shield little friend little friend" "Thean'heč - Sleeping Child" a poem of Saresh Nda Khevionum Zedem End. ------------------------------------------------------------------