The Glass Admiral

by Kit Smart

  “I see.” He glanced away briefly and when he returned his attention to her his face was carefully blank. “And can you read me? Is that why they sent you?”

  “Yes.” Saverna answered simply. No reason to lie about it I suppose.

  “Yes you can read me or yes that’s why they sent you?” He regarded her steadily.

  “Yes to both.” My what serious eyes you have Admiral.

  “I see.” He glanced away and Saverna watched as his throat worked. “And what do you read in me LT?”

  Saverna waited until he turned back to meet her gaze once more. “I see that you’re not particularly thrilled at the prospect of my putting hands on you at the moment.” You were all about it 30 minutes ago though.

  “They’d have told you that.” He challenged her without rancor.

  “You’ve fully dressed yourself in uniform after your shower and you’re leaning away from me slightly.” Saverna rattled off as she eyed him. “Braced forward on your crutches so that both they and your arms are between you and me; guarding. As if to ward off a vampire or a witch or a demon perhaps.”

  That earned her a short, startled laugh. Saverna watched the strong length of his throat as he leaned his head back to let the sound escape. When he looked back at her his eyes were filled with a reluctant amusement. “Okay. You’ve got me LT. I am not particularly looking forward to this.” He shrugged. “But I gather you’re not going to let me off the hook?”

  Saverna shook her head no. “I’m afraid not.”

  “Yeah, didn’t think so.” Shifting his weight forward onto his crutches, he started toward the massage table. “How do you want me?”

  Saverna turned to follow him. She studied the way he walked as she went. “Comfortable, just find a position that’s comfortable.” She clarified when he pivoted to glance askance at her.

  He grunted in response and turning sat on the edge of the table and pulled his arms out of his forearm crutches, gathered them together and propped them against the table beside him.

  Saverna waited for him to lay down and when he didn’t she raised a quizzical eyebrow at him. “That’s it?” She asked, careful to keep her voice neutral.

  “That’s it.” He repeated in a tone just as neutral and somehow containing a challenge just the same.

  “Ok.” Bracing her hands on her hips, Saverna considered him thoughtfully.

  Kosuri studied her in return.

  “I’d like to start with your hands if you’re okay with that?”

  Kosuri looked startled by the question.

  Oh. Saverna rocked back on her heels. Has no one ever asked you before? “Is it all right?” She asked aloud wanting to hear his verbal confirmation. Stepping forward, she offered her hands palms up in front of her.

  Kosuri frowned at her briefly before his gaze dropped to her hands. “It’s fine.” He told her but there was a minute hesitation before he put his left hand, also palm up, into hers.

  Saverna let the hand rest in hers. “You hesitated.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?” She let the weight of his hand settle into her palm.

  He didn’t look up. “My hands aren’t a problem.”

  “Your hands don’t hurt?”

  “Not a major problem.” He corrected himself.

  “But they do hurt.” She persisted. She used her thumbs to draw a line across his palm. “Here?” Moving her thumbs up from his wall to the inside of his wrist she drew another line there. “And here?”

  She was watching his downward tilted head and so she saw him suck in a breath. “Yes.” He exhaled the word, glanced up at her. “How did you…” He trailed off.

  “Just logic Admiral.” She began to rub circles on his palm with her thumbs; once, twice around and then up and around his wrist and back down again to his palm. “Your hands, wrists and shoulders bear the brunt of your weight when you use crutches.” She kept the pressure of her thumbs light, non-demanding; just enough to soothe. I want you to get accustomed to me before I go to work on your muscles. “I imagine that your upper arms are sore from the arm pieces as well?”

  He held her gaze. “They rub.” He said finally. He dropped his gaze to his hand, watched her working on his hand for several moments. “You’re being very gentle with me.” He said.

  “Does that bother you?” She asked curiously.

  “It isn’t efficient.”

  “Does that bother you?” Saverna asked again.

  He was silent a long time. “It isn’t strictly necessary.” He said finally, gruffly.

  “I am just trying to get you used to me.” Saverna explained. What to say? I never need to explain to the horses. “I am also trying to figure out your comfort zones and get used to reading your responses.”

  “That seems like a waste of time.” He said flatly.

  “Does it?” What is that tone Admiral?

  “We don’t have all evening.”

  “Got a hot date Admiral?” It came out more flippant than she had intended and when he sucked in a breath in response she immediately wanted to kick herself. “I’m sorry I—”

  He held up a hand-the had she had been massaging to stop her. “I want to sleep Lieutenant so let’s just get on with it shall we?” With that he swung his legs up on the table and laid himself on the massage table. The moment the back of his head hit the pillow, he closed his eyes.

  Saverna took in the way he clenched his hands at his sides and grabbed a blanket to drape over his lower body. “I’m going to start with your legs.” She said neutrally. “Please let me know if I am causing you discomfort.” What’s set you off now? She wondered as she moved her hands, overtop the blanket, along his legs from ankle to upper thigh and upper thigh to ankle grabbing and releasing the muscles in his legs as she went. Despite Kosuri’s impatience she kept her touch light and only increased pressure when she felt the muscles begin to relax under her hands. There is no use in a punishing massage sir. When she felt a shift in his body, she switched from the grab and release motion into long stroking sweeps using her fingers and palms to encourage blood to flow through the tight cramped muscles.

  As she worked she monitored Kosuri’s breathing; watched the way his hands clenched and unclenched by his sides. He didn’t give her much in the way of response until she moved up along his thighs to begin work on his hips and pelvis.

  A definite clenching of the jaw. Saverna thought with some satisfaction as she used the heels of her hands to press along his hip bones. Thinking he’d have better sensation without the added layer of his tunic, she moved to pull the multidirectional fastener up brushing his belt buckle with her hands as she did so. She had moved the fastener a bare few centimeters up towards his abdomen when he suddenly swung himself up and off the table. “That will be all Lieutenant thank you.” He threw back over his shoulder as he crossed the living area to disappear with a bare swoosh of the door into his room.

  7

  10:46, THURSDAY, ADMIRAL’S READYROOM, THE ASARO

  "YOU'RE DOING IT AGAIN."

  "Doing what?" He didn't look up. Refused to look up.

  "Pretending." She answered succinctly.

  "Pretending." He paused. "Lieutenants JG do not accuse admirals of pretending Saverna." He let it lie ominously between them. Hoped she would do the prudent thing and back off.

  She didn't of course because that would be too much to hope for.

  "Nevertheless sir, you're pretending." She repeated apparently trusting him to interpret the undercurrent of: I am not your average Lieutenant JG., so clearly contained in her tone.

  Message received madam. "What exactly am I pretending?" He asked acerbically because there was very little choice. He hoped she would interpret his tone and not dare to proceed further.

  There was a brief pause in which tiny tendrils of optimism were born only to be immediately dashed against the floor at her next words.

  "You're pretending not to hurt." She told him quietly, firmly and he felt the shame burst to life as it
usually did somewhere in his gut and then pulse through the rest of his body in waves that were hot, relentless and crippling. How does she know? With effort he managed to stay his initial instinct to curl protectively forward over his belly and grasped the arms of his chair instead.

  "You're imagining things." He managed after a moment. If she knows then they all know.

  "I am not." Again that firm tone, the one that made him want to pound the desk. "Where the hell do you get that?" He bit out nastily, in the hopes of dissuading her from pursuing the conversation.

  "You haven't moved, except to walk, all afternoon." Not dissuaded then. I am losing my touch.

  "It hasn't been required." He told her automatically. Still trying to deny reality are we Kosuri? The voice in his brain took on a particularly vicious edge. Still trying to pretend you're normal?

  Shut up! He told the voice even as a resurgence of shame roiled through him. I'm not pretending.

  Liar. The voice hissed at him.

  "When you're more comfortable, you shift around a fair bit even when you're sitting."

  Liar.

  "When you're in pain you get still, guarded."

  Liar. Idiot. Everyone knows.

  "Guarded?" He managed to ask through the shame that had its claws wrapped around his throat.

  "Physically contained, protective." Saverna elaborated. "Trying to avoid getting jostled or inadvertently bumped or touched.”

  That struck him like a punch to the gut and he found suddenly that her had nothing to say. You see me. He stared at her.

  She stared back all patience and he suddenly saw Saverna, the horsewoman The woman who walks into rings with the most vicious of beasts—the ones totally beyond redemption and works miracles. Is that how you see me then LT? He tried that on for size and found it wanting—uncomfortable and, if he were being honest with himself, painful. You could use a miracle. A traitorous voice in his head piped up.

  Throughout all his mental gymnastics, her regard never changed. Not a single thing-feeling or thought flickered across her face or in her eyes. Likewise, her posture never changed. She remained there hands clasped behind her back entirely relaxed, entirely open and receptive. Waiting....... His brain struggled to figure out what she was waiting for until with a peculiar hitch that was at once both physical and mental it seized upon the idea that she was waiting for him. Waiting for him. Waiting to respond to him. Waiting to respond to whatever he threw at her next. He searched her face again just to verify and saw no judgement or condemnation in her.

  That won't last. Once she knows the reality... The thought coiled through him, caused his muscles to clench with anger—blocked his throat and caused his voice to come out low and tight with anger when he spoke. "That's none of your business Lieutenant."

  He waited for the change to come over her. Waited for her posture to become rigid with anger and her eyes to fill with judgement.

  She didn't even blink. "As your body woman Admiral, it is very much my business." She told him calmly.

  That damnable calmness—when his guts were twisting and cramping and his joints were aching and all he wanted was to lay down and be left alone—infuriated him. "That isn't the definition of body woman Lieutenant and you know it." He tried a different tact. Leave me alone.

  "These are exceptional circumstances." She replied levelly.

  The intractability of that answer in combination with a particularly vicious series of abdominal cramps that were testing his ability to remain upright and functioning had him seeing red. "Why the hell do you want to know?! It's not like you can do a fucking thing about it anyway.” He half whispered, half roared at her. And then because he was no longer able to stop himself he wrapped his arms over his belly and leaned forward in his chair. "Just bloody go away Saverna.” He got out before the effort of trying to breathe through the pain consumed all of his attention.

  After what felt like an eternity during which the stabbing pain in his guts consumed all of his attention, he felt heat along his right side as Saverna came to a crouch beside his chair. A mere second later a warm palm came to rest along the back of his neck covering the cervical vertebrae from the base of his skull to the the midpoint of his shoulders in a way that was intensely comforting for someone accustomed to wearing a helmet. His LT seemed to have some notion of this because she remained unmoving beside him letting the warmth of her palm settle into his nervous system for several minutes before she spoke. "I may be able to do more than you think Admiral—if you're willing to let me try. Are you willing to let me try?"

  Because of the presence of her hand on his neck, he was able to think about that a little. "Nobody's ever been able to..." He trailed off as his belly cramped again.

  "That may be." She murmured. "But are you willing to let me try?" She repeated.

  “I—” He hesitated.

  "I am not making any promises here Admiral." She seemed to sense the reason behind his hesitation. "And I am not asking you to pretend anything. Just let me try and be honest with me about the process. Are you willing?"

  He nodded because talking was beyond him at that moment and because she seemed particularly insistent with getting an agreement from him. And because he didn't see how she could possibly make things any worse.

  "Ok. Good." She told him and a moment later he felt her right hand on the back of his. "Your body is over-stressed and uncomfortable from that demands of adapting to this new position and you're not digesting food properly yes?"

  “I—yes." He told her quite unable in the face of the pleasurable warmth of her physical proximity to find a reason to deny it. "It happens sometimes.”

  "Ok." Her right hand began to massage the back of his. "If you're okay with it, I would like to try some abdominal massage to see if we can stimulate your digestive system."

  "No!" He had no problems deciding that the last thing he wanted were hands pressing and prodding his tender, aching mid-section. "It will be fine…eventually."

  His LT was silent for a moment during which he fervently wished for her to go away and leave him to die in peace under his desk as was his right.

  Of course she remained right as she was practically whirring as she mulled that over. "Is it the pain or the intimacy that causes you to refuse?" She asked. "Or... something else?"

  "Dear God. Do you ever bloody give the hell up?" He ground out.

  "Very seldom."

  "Could you make this one of those times?"

  "I'm afraid not."

  The very calmness of her reply exploded some last reservoir of civility in him and in his desperation to have her gone, took the last dregs of his pride with it. "Saverna, if you touch my stomach I am going to cry after which I will probably vomit and shit myself." He bit out. "I don't suppose that you could conceive that I may not want a witnesses to that?"

  There was a long silence and then he felt her shift back and he was filled with equal parts relief and despair; relief that she was leaving him to die in peace and despair that that warm hand on the back of his neck would also disappear. The hand did not disappear however and after several moments during which she did not shift any farther, he opened his eyes and twisted his head see what the hold up was.

  It was apparently what she had been waiting for because the moment his eyes connected with hers she smiled her wry little smile and lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. "Shit happens."

  He stared at her unable to believe what he had heard. Was she mocking him?

  "It's private Saverna." He told her forbiddingly.

  "Why?" She asked him instead of damn her eyes buggering off somewhere like any decent, civilized being would have.

  "Why?!" He stared at her in disbelief felt the anger begin to twist within him with renewed fervor. He swore. "Because, it will bloody change everything Saverna. Because you will never bloody be able to look at me again in the same bloody way.”

  She lifted her eyebrows at him in response to that. "That's simply not true."

  His anger grew
, became infected with contempt though whether it was for her or for himself he wasn't certain. "What the hell do you know about it?! I've had ten years of experience with this and I am bloody telling you that this stuff changes everything for everyone."

  "I am not everyone."

  "Leave it Saverna."

  She left it. She left it all afternoon, seated at her desk in the corner of his office. She left it during the end of shift meeting, standing behind the Admiral's chair where she observed the faint sheen of sweat that coated the skin of his neck. She left it on the walk back to quarters drifting sedately beside him, arms clasped behind her back as he stubbornly refused to concede to his discomfort and maneuvered himself along at his regular place defiantly making no concessions to his hurting body. You didn't like that guarded comment did you sir? She left it when, somehow simultaneously flushed and gray-faced, he disappeared into his suite without comment.

  She left it all evening, showering and changing into her pajamas and after eating a solitary dinner of fresh fruit and toast settling on the sofa of the main room with a book to wait. She left it until a soft groan from behind the Admiral's door told her that she was not able to leave it any longer and then after setting her book aside and glancing at the chronometer 01:43! she crossed the living area and after a soft perfunctory knock pushed the door open and entered his bedroom.

  With only the dim light of a bedside lamp, she was unable to take in more than the general impression that the room was decorated in what she was coming to recognize as standard fleet style. Cool and modern.... like the uniforms.

  While the strength of the light was unable to sufficiently illuminate the room, it was sufficient to illuminate the admiral as he lay on his side, arms wrapped around his abdomen. A step closer garnered the information that he was sweating and that a faint tremor ran through him from time to time. You haven't even removed your jacket and boots.