709: Silent Dance

Silent Dance
by Jariel Camen
81220.0800
After A Handful of Ocean

-=Bajor=-

Jariel sighed as he stared at the empty spot where Azalea Adams had stood moments before. She was a lovely woman with a long road ahead. As a chaplain he could hold her hand and offer her all he wisdom of his years, but he could not hope to take the place of what she really needed.

Her words regarding the process by which memories resurface haunted him. Hearing the desperation in Fleur’s voice, wishing someone would ask her to dance, caused an emotional response in him that once again caused Camen to recall another life long since forgotten.

-=Flashback, Alternate timeline=-

The last of the sun descended below the skyline of The City of Light. Camen watched from his perch above Fleur’s Café, as lights flickered on one by one across the city.

Fleur was still downstairs in the café, tending to the evening rush. Camen had overdone it cleaning tables, so Fleur had insisted he head up to their loft above the café to rest.

As he walked up the stairs towards the loft, he untied his apron, and brushed speckles of flour off the front of his black shirt. He untucked the shirt from the waist of his blue jeans, and kicked off his boots and socks to go barefoot. He had walked so much today, it felt wonderful to stretch out his toes.

Camen walked out onto the balcony, and sat on the stone ledge. He let one foot dangle over the side, and drew the other up to rest on the ledge, so he could set his chin upon his knee. The stone was warm against his foot, having been sunned all day long in the heat of the Parisian summer.

He grinned, as he heard the voice of his wife through the open windows below, calling out orders above the ambient noise of the city. Camen still marveled at how much energy was contained in such a petite package.

His mind drifted from Fleur to Bajor, and how much more he wished he could do for the people. How wonderful it would be if he could simply walk amongst the people as he did here, help them build homes and interact with the children who would love nothing more than to just have an adult pay attention to them for a few moments in the day.

A Vedek could afford such luxuries, but not the Kai.

“Are you all right my Camen?”

He heard Fleur’s voice, and turned from the city back to the balcony, where she stood, looking concerned.

“Wonderful, just tired. Fleur,” Camen hopped down from the ledge, onto his bare feet. As if on cue a gust of wind kicked up, rustling his earring and the curls in his hair.

*That is not even fair. How can a woman possibly be expected to resist that?* Fleur thought.

“Would you like to dance?” Camen asked.

“But there is no music!” She protested, but before she knew it, Camen’s arms were around her waist. Fleur slid hers behind his back and let him lead, as he slowly rocked her in a small circle.

She kicked off her shoes, and let the tips of her toes rest on the top of his as they danced in silence in the evening air.

“Who needs music?” Camen asked, before kissing her deeply as they continued to sway together.

Fleur had only intended to make sure Camen was not ill, before returning to the café, but the café could be damned now. His arms were strong, the kisses soft, and the evening air warm. There was simply no place else she needed or wanted to be, for as long as they were together like this.

-=End flashback=-

As he watched her sleep now, he wished desperately that he could erase the memories of rejection that haunted her. He did not know what fool had ever denied her the dance she desired, but he knew if that man could see the beautiful woman she was today, there would be nothing for him to taste on his lips but the bitter pill of jealousy.

She stirred, and her eyes fluttered open for the first time since the worst of the fever had gripped her. Camen was at her side immediately, so she would know he had been there all along, watching over her.

“You’re here.”

“Where else would I be?” Camen asked.

He recalled her reaction when she had awakened after her accident at the well in the Plains. When she had believed she must have still been dreaming if Camen was there. She seemed less surprised this time. Camen hoped that was more a result of her becoming accustomed to his presence, as opposed to simply being a side effect of her delirious state.

“With Tress,” she rasped.

“She’s right here.” Camen moved aside, so Fleur could see the crib he had brought into the small room, so he could watch over both of his girls.

“I thought I heard her,” Fleur smiled at the sight of the child. Then her memory began to flood back to her. “Her hearing?”

Jariel shook his head.

[[Nothing has changed, but I am teaching her more signs all the time.]]

Fleur nodded, and then licked her lips.

“You must be thirsty. Do you want a drink?” Fleur saw the moist cloth beside the bed and knew Camen must have been dripping water to keep her hydrated as she slept, just as she had done for him.

Her first instinct was to say no, to not trouble him any more than she already had by having him stay here to care for her. No doubt there had to be somewhere else more important he could be than here watching her sleep all day and night. Her parched throat decided otherwise however.

“Yes, please.”

He replicated a cool glass of water, as Fleur eased herself up onto her elbows. She reached for the glass, but her hands were trembling.

“I’ll hold it for you.”

She was too weak to protest, and let him lift the glass to her lips drink. To his surprise she emptied the entire glass without so much as asking for a break.

“I need a shower,” she observed. Her clothes were matted with sweat, as were the sheets she rested on. Camen wanted to put her right back to sleep, but he knew she needed fresh linens and the shower could not possibly hurt.

He led her to the back of the tiny quarters, where the stand up sonic shower was located.

“I think I can manage from here,” she said.

Camen asked the replicator for a clean robe and fresh linens for the bed. He listened closely; nervous all the while that she may fall in the shower since she was hardly in any condition to be up and about at the moment. He hung the robe outside the shower for her, and made the bed up fresh.

He heard her humming the same song that she had been mumbling in her dreams as she slept. How much of her dreams did she remember?

The shower powered down, and he saw an arm reach gingerly for the hanging robe.

“Are you decent?” He asked after a few moments. “I’ll help you back to the bed.”

“Oui, you may come.”

She looked infinitely more relaxed now that she had cleaned the sweat off her body and out of her hair. Camen kissed her hand as he helped her down onto the bed.

“How can you look at me that way? I look terrible,” Fleur asked.

“You look like you.”

“Pffffffft.”

“All better!” Tress shouted over the conversation, waving her pretend tricorder towards Fleur.

[[Trying to make her better. Still sick.]] Camen signed back to her.

[[No, better. We need her.]]

“You must have things to do, Camen. I’ll watch Tress for a while,” Fleur offered.

“Nothing more important than staying at your side.”

“But why?” She asked, shaking her head.

“Why did you stay at my side when I was suffering the same fever?”

“Because I lo… Because I was worried about you.” Fleur caught herself, too late for Camen to not know what she had really meant to say.

“Well, I’m very worried about you too, Fleur.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tress rubbing her stomach, indicating she was hungry.

[[I will get you some food.]] Camen signed to her.

“How about you Fleur? A bowl of soup? My apologies that it is not homemade,” He waited for her to answer, but she was silent. Camen looked back at the bed to see that she had already drifted back to sleep.

Another day, and she would be feeling much better if the fever took the same course in her that it did in him. Until then, he would not leave her side.

**********************
Jariel Camen
On Bajor