CHAKOTAY UNBOUND

 

He loved her. The length and breadth and the very depth of him resonated with the fullness of his devotion, the passion that drove his existence and which made him live.

 

Once, a thousand years ago perhaps, he had known her, and had known that his path and hers would converge, merge into an unshakeable belief that even beyond the grave, he would feel no other way than loving Kathryn. It was a fire that never consumed him but rather sought to enhance him, keep him burning, a low flame that refused to perish within him.

 

It had been sublime then, those years on their vessel when he could never impart to her his most deepest emotions, when she had been Odysseus on a quest for home and he? He had been her support, her comfort, one who offered solace in times of deep sadness and loneliness. He had been her right hand, her moral compass that, even as he watched her stray from her paths of decency, of discipline, of just…straying, could return her to her chosen path, however much it pained her.

 

Her rock. Her salvation.

 

Once before, a thousand years ago, perhaps, the distance between them could be measured in a parsec. He touched, but was never to feel that touch. So were the looks he showered on her, the words, the sighs and the silent, silent avowals of his love. For he had learned to live with them, hug them into his being; he even learned to love the constant pulse of emotion that dictated the rhythm of his day to day living.

 

Once, a thousand years ago, he had told her that he had been bound too long. Her declaration of love had left him without words. He had been content - yes, content - to worship her for in that alone rested his peace. There had been no feelings then that he could ever envisage of being loved in return. How had he imagined it? How? His heart would beat faster. He would be beset by great joy. Happiness would course through his veins. Was simply adoring her so different from being adored in return? As prosaic as his perception sounded then, that was what he thought if ever Kathryn showed and showered him with love equal to his own. That was what he thought, being touched by Kathryn, kissed by her.

 

The day of her declaration was a remembrance that lay close to his conscious thought.

 

"I love you, Chakotay. Share my life and my love forever."

 

"I have been bound too long…" had been his reply.

 

The words were out before he could filter the desolation that accompanied them.

 

And he had witnessed how his words crucified her. He had not meant to hurt Kathryn even as his own hurt had been long dissolved and he had forgiven her everything without ever having expressed that forgiveness in words and deeds.

 

She had turned away from him, a slow movement in which every tiny muscle ached to repudiate what he had just told her. He could not let her walk away from him…

 

*

 

How long had he been gazing at the circling condor that swept past his abode in majestic flight? As if from afar he heard her voice, calling him back from his wandering.

 

A soft hand brushed his cheek, a caress that sent the fire flaming in wondrous abandon through his body. It was so different. Every touch spoke of her love and awakened every sense that attuned itself to her in an instant. So different from what he had imagined. So completely, utterly and blessedly different.

 

He turned, filled in her embrace as she stood next to him.

 

"You've been gone a while, my love," came her voice, soft, sincere.

 

"I visited the old plains again. It gets better, beloved, with every day that passes."

 

"I am happy…"

 

"I am privileged," he replied, dropping a feather light kiss on her forehead.

 

"Then I am glad I chose this life with you, Ckakotay. It has freed me."

 

He gazed at her, entranced for long, long seconds, the wonderment that being loved was like a fire flaming his being. She was his light, his life.

 

"No, Kathryn, darling. I am free, for only you could remove the shackles from my captive heart."

 

"Then shall I say it again, my love?"

 

"I shall never grow tired of hearing it."

 

"I love you, Chakotay."

 

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