Love’s Music

Rating NC-17

By Elorie Alton

Disclaimer: All Voyager characters are the property of CBS Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended.

This Story takes place immediately after "Hunters"

"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." Anais Nin

"You’re hardly alone, and to my way of thinking, there’s still plenty of time."

Chakotay had smiled with those words, taken Kathryn’s arm and led her to the mess hall, and then disappeared before she could even broach the subject of their relationship. It was the perfect time to realign the boundaries, and he’d disappeared.

Time slowed to a crawl and the party appeared more and more like a wake instead of a celebration, the Captain listened to tales of joy and those of sorrow. Almost every crewmember receiving a letter had something to share, some story about the past and the reminders of loved ones that once again, seemed so far away. There were friends and relatives gone, and the struggle of the Maquis that had existed only as skirmishes in a demilitarized zone when the caretaker dragged the two crews across the galaxy, was now a war that threatened even the Federation.

Tuvok had a granddaughter, and although he continued along in his calm Vulcan manner, his walk seemed a little straighter, his head held just a fraction higher. Those who knew him well could see just a minute hint of pride in his face, but that hint was also joined with a tinge of sorrow for a blessing that couldn’t be seen or held.

Some like her, had received "Dear John" letters, telling of significant others moving on with their lives, and other messages told of children already growing past recognition.

Through it all, there was an uncomfortable feeling that she was missing something important but for the life of her she couldn’t figure it out, until she looked around for Chakotay and he wasn’t there. His words from earlier came back to her to haunt her.

"Plenty of time!" she thought. "How can he say plenty of time, the last few hours should have taught all of us that there is no time? Mark married to someone else, the Maquis dead, and this new threat by someone called the Dominion, he couldn’t say plenty of time, and mean it." 

Kathryn looked around the room again, seeing B’Elanna and Tom quietly talking to Mike Ayala near the windows, and made her way over to them.

"B’Elanna, have you seen Chakotay?" she asked.

"He said he was going to his quarters for something, and I assumed he’d be back, but that was over an hour ago." B’Elanna said, her voice laced with unshed tears, and her eyes haunted with a deep sorrow that she wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

"Are you ok?" Kathryn asked putting her hand on B’Elanna’s shoulder.

Tom moved behind B’Elanna, slipping his arms around her, holding her, supporting her physically and emotionally. 

"B’Elanna, you know your friends would want your happiness." Kathryn reached out, patting the Klingon’s arm.

"Logically, I know that," the young woman sighed. "It’s just so hard to accept emotionally. Chakotay said the very same thing to me."

"Speaking of my elusive first officer, I really need to talk to him?"

"He has been acting a little funny since I gave him the last letter we managed to retrieve from the array."

"I didn’t know he got another letter," Kathryn said.

Captain Janeway touched her combadge, "Computer, give me the location of Commander Chakotay."

"Commander Chakotay is in his quarters."

"If you will excuse me, Tom, B’Elanna, I think I’ll go check on him."

=^=

He sat in his darkened quarters, the padd in his hand, it had brought joy and it had brought despair. His sister was alive and so were others of his tribe. They had called to him from across the galaxy, to come home and honor the commitment he had made when the Cardassians had devastated his world.

They wanted him to lead them, and he feared that would mean the end of his dreams of Kathryn. He didn’t think she would agree to live with him on Trebus or any other out of the way planet that the isolationist elders might pick out.

He jumped at the sudden intrusion of a hand on his shoulder.

"Chakotay?"

"How did you get here?" He asked.

"I used my override, when you didn’t answer the chime." She moved down until she was kneeling in front of him looking up into his eyes. "I wanted to talk to you and I was worried when you disappeared."

He sighed, "I’m sorry, I meant to come back. I just needed some time to myself."

"Is that why you told me I had plenty of time? You know the only Starfleet protocol standing between us was the one that demanded I honor my commitment to my fiancé, and now that I am free of it, you back off. You tell me we have plenty of time when all the evidence around us says we don’t."

He could see her attempt to control the fire of anger in her eyes, but there was something else too. There was pain buried behind the anger – he had hurt her. In trying to protect himself he had caused her pain, and for that he knew he owed her the truth.

"I got this today," he said handing her the padd containing his letter. "Computer increase lighting."

She took it and called up his letter.

The first lines brought a smile to her face, "Oh Chakotay, your sister is alive, you have family to return to," but her expression changed to one of puzzlement as she continued to read. Finally she turned it off and looked up, "I don’t understand. What is there in this letter that would cause you to back off from a relationship that I thought you wanted?"

He stood and walked over to the view port, watching the stars stream past. "I do want you, but don’t you see. They want me to return to lead them. I can’t ask you to give up everything you’ve worked for to follow me to some backwater planet to lead a tribe of people that want to isolate themselves from everything in the name of protecting their culture."

"But Chakotay, I don’t see you doing that either."

"I don’t want to, but when I saw what the Cardassians left of Trebus and my people, I committed my self to my tribe’s resurrection. I vowed that I would exact revenge on the Cardassians and part of that was the rebuilding of my tribe. My sister is reminding me of that pledge. I love you Kathryn, but I owe them, I hate this feeling of being torn in different directions."

"What do you want for yourself, not for others out of love or obligation, but what do you want for Chakotay?"

"I want to be with you, Kathryn, I love you. But I want to do something for my tribe too. I just don’t want to isolate myself from the outside world. I thought it was wrong when I was a kid and left for the Academy and I think it’s wrong now."

"What are you saying?"

"I’m saying that if your tribe is asking you to be a leader, maybe it is because of your belief not in spite of it. I cannot think of anyone I would trust more than you. Your father may have called you contrary but that isn’t a bad thing. What is there in you, that you would like to give your people, Chakotay?"

"I would have my people learn that the only way to preserve anyone’s culture is to embrace the change that is natural in all things."

She looked up in his eyes and smiled, "Maybe that is exactly why your people are asking you to be a leader from so far away. It may be years before we get home, but they want you, there is some significance in that," and she put both hands over his heart.

He held her in his arms, pressing her gently to his chest. "Kathryn, I can’t turn my back on my people again."

"I know you can’t, you made a commitment, and when we get home I know you will honor that commitment. Your loyalty is one of the things I love about you. I want to make a commitment too, to you and your people. I understand what I may have to give up, but I’ve come to realize during these last few hours that you mean more to me than anyone or anything else." She spoke from the safe circle of his arms.

"Kathryn, recognize my need for you is more than sex. I need you in my arms at night, to feel your heart beating, to wake up with you each morning. I need your life to intertwine with mine, to complete my life and to complete yours with my own," his lips moving over her silky hair.

"And that is exactly what I want too, Chakotay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

He pulled her closer against him and when she tilted up her face, he began brushing soft kisses on her eyelids, and cheeks, and finally her mouth. Her lips opened the moment his touched hers and he swept his tongue first across them then into her mouth cherishing the first delicious taste of her.

She hummed with pleasure, savoring his invasion, until at last she took control. Pushing his tongue back into his mouth, she followed it with her own. He tasted of some magical male spice, all earthy and solid and incredibly enthralling. Shifting her arms up around his neck, she combed his hair with her fingers, while he cupped her head in his hand, holding her in place to plunder her mouth.

This first kiss was jubilant, wild, and exultant; as first one then the other took control. They spend long minutes relishing the fit of their lips and warmed themselves in the heat that built in the other’s body. And through the touch of lips, their souls joined, fitting together as perfectly as if they had been cut from the same material, mirroring each other.

Finally the need to inhale pulled them apart, but they rested against each other and Kathryn breathed, "I love you so much."

"There is a ritual for ones from the outside who would be companions of those chosen to be tribal leaders." Chakotay said as soon as he gained a small measure of control.

"What kind of ritual?"

"It’s one that gives you a tribal name. I’ll draw a picture of it on your back. I think you will enjoy it Kathryn," he whispered.

"When can we start?"

"As soon as I gather some things and we both get some rest. This has been a very long day. If you still want this tomorrow, then we will begin."

=^=

Kathryn hadn’t known just what to expect when she met Chakotay the next evening. Just before lunch he had simply come into the ready room ask her if she had changed her mind, and when she said that she hadn’t, he told her to come to his quarters as soon as her shift was over.

When she was free, she went to her quarters, gathered a few things into a small bag and made the trip to his quarters. She was nervous but knew that this was a step she had to take, so when she arrived she took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself and rang the chime.

Chakotay opened the door instantly, almost as if he had stood on the other side of the door waiting for her. Taking her hand he led her inside his dim living room.

He was wearing nothing but a thin white cloth that hung low on his hips and was held together on his left side with a single knot. His broad chest was smooth, punctuated only by his flat dark nipples, and his hair was still damp as if he had just stepped out of his shower.

There was a muted sound, not quite music, a rhythm pulsing in the back ground barely heard but soothing like the soft lights that wrapped around them in a cocoon like ambiance.

"Are you ready, Kathryn?"

"Yes," she answered then added. "I’m nervous, I’m happy, I know this is the right thing. I love you so much, but I’m nervous."

"I know. I have a bath drawn for you. It will help you to relax. Soak for a while and I’ll set things up, I left you something to wear when you are ready."

She smiled and moved through his bedroom toward the bath only to stop at the door. "Chakotay," she moaned, tears over flowing and running down her cheeks. She turned back finding that he had followed her.

"You saved it; I thought we left it behind."

"Yes," he answered. "I knew you wanted to bring it, I saw you looking at it measuring it in your mind. I brought it back myself and hid it down on deck twelve. No one knew, not even Mort Harren."

"Oh Chakotay," and she moved to the crude wooden tub he had built for her, running her fingers over the rim, "How can I thank you."

"I’m sure we will find a way, later." He grinned, the dimples in his cheeks sinking deep. "Now go on, see if your bathtub still fits, soak a while and relax and when you are ready I’ll be waiting for you."

He left and Kathryn climbed into the tub and slid down until she was neck deep in the soothing warm water. 

The scent of some unknown herb wafted up from the water, but the aroma fit in with the soft beating of a drum in the background and now that she began to relax she could just make out voices chanting. She shut her eyes and savored the feeling of tranquility that ebbed through her body, as if that warm water drew all the tension out of her, and once she was completely relaxed she got out of the water and wrapped the pale blue sarong he had left, around her body. She simply knotted it behind her neck letting the fabric swing loosely around her ankles. It was only then when she fastened the knot that she realized she was wearing could be considered her wedding dress.

She entered the main room to find Chakotay kneeling on a quilt spread out on the floor near the view ports. The lighting was low enough to allow one to see the play of stars as they swung across the window in a rainbow of beautiful warp distorted colors.

He looked up when she entered, a soft smile gracing his face, and he rose to take her hand and led her across the room to the quilt, and knelt with her upon it. 

He took her face between his hands, rubbed his thumbs across her cheeks and softly kissed her then asked, "Are you ready?"

"Yes," she breathed back into his mouth.

He turned her from him, so that she faced the jeweled display outside the port. Then he opened the knot of cloth, allowing it to slip down her back while she held the ends over her chest.

"Relax, listen to the chant, and we will begin."

The rhythm of the drum beats and the almost harmony of the voices playing softly in the back ground continued the magic that had began in her bath, relaxing her muscles and allowing her mind to drift to another place, not a dream or even a vision because she knew exactly where she was, but there was a heightened awareness of the sounds and the gentle touches of the man behind her.

Kathryn could feel his knees against her, separated only by the thin piece of cloth that draped low around her hips then up where she held it against her breasts. She had never thought of knees as erotic, but now just the feel of them against her buttocks set off that first ach of arousal that throbbed in time with the drums. 

He opened his box, and then pulled a lamp nearer, adjusting it so that the light fell only on her back. He picked up a stylus and started to draw lines on her pale skin.

"What are you drawing?" She ask as the touch of the pen made her skin quiver with pleasure at the almost tickle.

He laughed, "You always have to know, don’t you? Well this time you will just have to wait until I finish. Just listen to the chant, Kathryn."

She drifted with the slow rhythm, listing to words that she didn’t understand but still lifted her soul, and feeling the soft movement of the stylus, trying to decipher its touch, trying to guess what was taking shape on her back.

She hung in a place outside of time, somewhere between one moment and the next, where only Chakotay and the chant and the smooth touch of the instrument existed, then dropped back into real time when she realized he had stopped drawing. She looked over her shoulder to see him putting colors on a tray, only a few, mainly red and turquoise, the he picked up a soft brush and dipped it into the paint.

He hummed to her, a whispered wordless melody, in time with the beating of the drum and then he touched the brush to her back and drew it across her skin in one fluid movement, like he was painting a great arc across her back.

She had expected the paint to be cold but it wasn’t, it was warm and the pull of those soft bristles across her back was an addicting almost tickle that made her still warmer. It was if the brush touched more than her back, it also caressed her cheeks like butterfly wings, brushing across her nipples immediately making them taut and achy, and fed the fire that ached between her thighs.

There was a peculiar discordance, the arousal fueled by each touch of the brush oddly opposed to the soothing effect of the softly beating drum and chanting voices in the back ground. She drifted on a tide of arousal yet almost in a dream state built by the soft sounds.

Kathryn didn’t know when Chakotay’s voice began to filter through, for a long time that might have been only moments she just languished in the sound of it, not comprehending the words only the velvet tone of his voice, but finally she understood the words and her heart clenched with joy.

"…The woman warrior was brave and beautiful and very wise. The angry warrior swore to himself that he would stay by her side, doing whatever he could to make her burden lighter. From that point on, her needs would come first. And in that way, the warrior began to know the true meaning of peace."

The sensual caress of the brush was now punctuated by his whispered words. The background sounds of the drum and the chanting voices all added fuel to the heat within her. At last the pleasant ache became pleasurable need, and she fought the desire to turn and throw herself into his arms, she wanted to press her body against his because the touch of his knees wasn’t nearly enough.

Finally he sat the brush and paints aside, and took the pistol shaped pigment conversion catalyst directing it at her back. Again a warming sensation sent fingers of heat through her body, caressing, as a lover’s touch. She felt incomplete; as if she were pliant clay needing Chakotay’s hands to shape and mold her, and in answer to her unspoken wish, she felt his hands on her arms, gently pulling her back against his body, whispering to her.

"You are my life, my love, and my joy. You are my woman warrior, Sewahteyahot, and your symbol is the fiery bird that snatches victory from the ashes of defeat. You are my companion, you are my heart. Would you join with me Kathryn?"

His hands brushed softly down pushing the cloth in her hands away from her body, pulling her up on his thighs nestling her in his strong arms, and resting his growing erection in the cleft of her bottom.

"Yes, Oh yes, I’ll join with you, my love, your tribe will become mine."

For the moment she was content with the feel of his body against her back, with his arms holding her and his mouth nuzzling the place where her shoulder and neck joined. He nibbled then kissed, he nipped and then soothed with his tongue and every touch of his mouth intensified that throbbing empty twinges between her thighs. She lay back against his chest and he slid one arm up cupping a breast with one hand while sliding the other down to stroke along her folds. She wanted to thrust her breast into his cupping left hand and she wanted the right one to probe just a little harder, just a little deeper.

Chakotay conducted a countermelody of strokes and caresses on her body while the soft drumbeat pulsed around them. It was as if he couldn’t touch her enough, as if his fingers were addicted to the feel of her pale silky skin. He wanted to stroke her everywhere, to taste her all over, and to inhale the rich scent of her flesh, spiced with the unique musty aroma of her arousal. He wanted nothing more than to hold her under him and pound into her sweet wet flesh until love’s music reduced him to ashes on the alter of Kathryn.

He turned her slightly until he could dip his head catching her pale nipple with his lips and rolled it with his tongue. Kathryn’s quivering body fed his arousal until she growled, turning completely around in his arms and pushed back against him until he lay on the quilt with her on top straddling his body and kissing his face.

She held herself up on her arms, the soft mounds of her breast swaying over him, then slid back far enough to catch her fingers in the knot of fabric on his hip, opened it and let it pool beneath him. Her movement freed his erection and she slipped her hand down it testing the contradicting sensations of soft silk and hardened steel nestled in her fingers. Her touch echoed like the crash of cymbals reverberating through his body raising the need to be inside her.

"Stop! I don’t want to come in your hand!" He pulled her fist away from his penis dragging it up to his shoulder while her head dipped and caught his flat male nipple in her mouth. "Kathryn," he groaned, "Spirits, please slow down a little."

"Didn’t you like that?" she grinned running her tongue across his smooth chest to his other nipple.

"Too much!" and he pulled her flat against him and rolled until she was underneath him and he rested in the cradle of her open thighs. He held himself up on his arms bending down to take her mouth in another deep kiss while he pressed his turgid length against her folds as if begging entrance, and as if in answer she arched up raising her hips.

The drums and chants coupled with the sensual experience of the brush on her back had prepared her for him. He had only to flex his hips and slipped into her tight moist heat not stopping until he was fully embedded within her. Only when she was filled with him did she realize just how achingly empty she had been.

For a short time they both lay there savoring the connection, her body adjusting to his size. She slid her knees up, holding him with thighs and arms as he kissed her again and again, softly caressing eyelids, and cheeks. He nuzzled into her neck and ran his tongue along a collarbone.

As if by design, the beat of the drums and the tempo of the chanting voices increased, and with it came the need to move. Love’s music resonated through both of them and Chakotay began to move within her. 

Kathryn met his every thrust with her own, pleasure building in cadence with the soft beating rhythm in the background. He hovered over her, his eyes locked with hers, their bodies rocking in delirious pleasure that built higher and higher, chasing after euphoria with an electrifying harmony that radiated between them. Each stroke increased the voracious demand until Kathryn surged up trying to take him deeper, clutching his hips with her legs, keening with satisfaction as her orgasm poured its heat through her.

Chakotay felt her climax ripple around him, pushing him over, and he plunged in as far as he could, spilling his seed, while he flirted with the dark edge of consciousness and the fiery pleasure radiated through him.

He had just enough strength to roll again so that he lay beside her, holding her quivering body as if she were made of dreams and starlight. "Spirits! How I love you."

"I love you too, my husband." she whispered.

She snuggled into his side letting sleep take her and he joined her napping on the floor, under the multi colored symphony of starlight outside the view ports.

End

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