For non-Neil Gaiman fans or knowers of Norse myth, Ratatosk is a squirrel that lives in the world tree that holds the earth together (more or less).Kind of a messenger between worlds (dead, living, other). The world tree is supposedly an Ash tree.
For a moment, Kirk was flying through the air.Then something caught, tore at his arm, and he swung back, hard, against the daurywin's side. The animal stumbled mid-gallop, and had it been a horse it might've rolled and killed them all. It wasn't, and managed to keep its feet without too much loss of speed. Kirk felt a few more ribs go and choked, his feet dragging. He looked up past the lifeline of white-knuckled hands into Spock's flushed face. Spock gave a heave, and Kirk clutched at the saddle for dear life. There was a moment of sickeningly sweet balance, he'd almost made it, and then he was sliding down... the daurywin caught its stride avoiding a ditch and he was flung back, up and over.
Spock grabbed him with iron hands and pulled him close before digging his heels in a sharp kick for more speed.
Behind them, the native equivalent of Rome burned.
The ground was speeding by them at an astonishing rate, and if Spock hadn't been there to hold him, He'd have fallen ten times over. Spock's breathing was loud in his ear, panting with effort.
Kirk swiveled his head around and caught two gaining ground on their left, riding a huge gray. Ignoring the phaser at his belt, he pulled the saddle-spear with his good arm and took a swing at the rear rider, ignoring his counterpart with the weapon and going right for the pilot. The tall biped was unseated with a cry and a spray of blood, and their daurywin fell back, fell behind.
Kirk nearly joined them, but Spock caught him again, jarring his shoulder. Kirk choked back a cry and felt a fresh trickle of blood down his ribs. He was getting a little concerned about the volume he was losing- his black tunic was soaked. He couldn't even lift that arm anymore.
"Spock," He yelled back, pointing with the spear. Spock hesitated, his body tensing, before relenting and turning the massive steed toward the treeline. He brought its head up before they got too far in. Slowing as they weaved their way through the trees. Kirk put up the spear, watching, not seeing any more riders close enough to spot them and follow. They continued in silence for about half an hour before Spock halted her, moved to shift Kirk in the saddle, examine him. Kirk stiffened at the touch of his fingers, flinching away.
"Captain, I must-"
"Later, Spock. Keep moving. We're still too near the treeline." Kirk lifted his hand to press against the wound, and the world tilted alarmingly. Spock pulled him closer, and Kirk cursed under his breath as his ribs complained about it. He made an effort to breathe as little as possible. "Keep moving, that's an order, Mr. Spock."
Hestitation.
"Yes, sir." Spock said reluctantly, and urged their large black daurywin on.
"You should have gone ahead with Bones and Chekov." Kirk said, after a time. Spock's hand tightened briefly on his arm.
"I calculated that there was sufficient time to retrieve you and still escape the riots." He paused, then said delicately, "As we have done."
"You shouldn't have risked yourself on my account." Kirk said firmly.
"I--" Awkwardly, "did not wish to loose a highly competent senior officer."
"Chekov," Kirk said shortly, " Is a green officer. And Bones has never been a fighter. You should have gone with them. I left you in charge, Spock."
Spock was quiet. The Daurywin turned its head, looking at them both with one red eye.
"Your statement fails to take into account our current mode of transport." Spock said finally, with the air of someone who'd just done a lot of hard thinking, very fast. "I could not have reined this animal, and defended myself as well."
Kirk pressed his lips together and brooded about that.
"Far enough." He said, and Spock halted the animal. Kirk turned in the saddle, pushing against the spreading bloodstain and swallowing a moan.
"Very well Mr. Spock. I'll concede-" he smirked " -the logic in your coming back for me."
Spock looked gratified.
"-Just this once." Kirk added softly, removing his hand so Spock could lift the rather scratchy material of the native tunic. Spock's face...tightened...and Kirk's stomach sank a little.
"Bad." He said. It wasn't a question. He was starting to get a little lightheaded. Spock leaned down, fiddled with a saddlebag. The daurywin was watching them again, a calm kind of curiousity in it's softly luminescent red eyes. Kirk gave her a pat, licking dry lips. She made a little whickering noise that made him smile. They'd had horses back in Iowa, it'd been years since he'd had a chance to ride one...
"Captain." Spock said sharply, and he jerked, blinking. Spock was looking at him narrowly. "You were...drifting."
"Oh?" He curled one side of his mouth up. " Just thinking, Spock. I'm fine." Then he braced himself for the unpleasant task of being bandaged. He wished they could've done it on the ground, but without the mounting ladders the natives used they might as well have tried to mount a small elephant without it's cooperation. The daurywin wasn't capable of kneeling, and they weren't going to make the rondezvous point on foot, that was certain...
"-im...Jim!" Spock was upset. Kirk squinted at him, wondered for a brief moment why everything hurt. "Jim, you must not sleep."
Kirk looked around blearily. They were moving out of the trees. He'd lost some time.
"What- where are we? You were, you were bandageing me up..." He was wet, and tugged at his black shirt. He was soaked in sweat. He felt a sudden chill. He was soaked in something...
Spock had gotten very still at his back.
"We have been walking for several hours." He said in a strangely tense tone of voice. "Any faster and the daurywin's gait seems to encourage your wounds to bleed."
Kirk lifted a numb hand to pinch at his dark, wet tunic, let it fall with a sticky sound. "Yes, I see.." He murmured.
"You were speaking to me about the horses your family owns." Spock continued in that odd, hollow tone.
"Iowa." Kirk mumbled.
"Yes, that is correct." Spock sounded sick, or something. Bones would have to have a look at him.
"Jim?" Spock sounded very far away for someone so close, and he felt far away, too, he almost couldn't feel him at all.... wasn't that funny...
Somebody had their mouth over his. Kissing him...he looked up as Spock pulled away. He looked shocked, shocked that Kirk was awake. Kirk opened dry lips, trying to focus, this was important-
"Spock," He said, with effort. Spock leaned close...to kiss him again? No, he put a hand on either of his shoulders and spoke clearly, with force.
"Jim, I must leave you. I can go faster on the daurywin. I will meet the landing party at the rondezvous point. Mr. Chekov still has his communicator and we can signal the ship to beam you to sickbay." He narrowed dark eyes at him. "Do you understand? I must go but I will return. You must hold on until then." Spock leaned even closer. "You must." he demanded.
Belatedly, Kirk realized he was on the ground, reclined on soft moss. Under a tree...
"Yes," He said weakly, " But...the horse is..." It was too big for Spock, or something, wasn't it? He looked up at it. Enormous animal.
"I will be fine." Spock said. He stood, looking very white. " Wait for me here." Then he took a flying leap up the tree, swung out onto a branch, and dropped down onto the horse's back.
"Yes..." Kirk said faintly. He felt an odd sinking sensation, watching him go.
It got quiet for awhile. His chest didn't hurt all that much any more. Almost comfortable... He might have slept for quite some time. He felt some sense of falling, not so much down but out, falling out and away....
But he felt something...a weight and it was....it was irritating and he stopped...
He woke slowly, something on his face...he shook his head, felt the weight land on his shoulder. He blinked, looked up at a little furry...hell, it was a squirrel. He blinked again.
Still a squirrel. Or at least, pretty damn close to a squirrel. Even had a bushy tail. Kirk wondered with a weird sort of detachment if it was going to bite him. He couldn't lift his hands anymore, tried to shake it off his shoulder. His shoulder even moved, a little.
And the squirrel said, "Ratatosk."
Kirk stared at it.
"Ratatosk, ratatosk." It twittered.
Kirk looked up at the spreading branches over his head.
"I think," he said with a mouth full of cotton, "you've got the wrong tree." Not an ash tree. Not even a yew. He looked back at the little creature. Did it look dissapointed?
"Sorry." Kirk mumbled.
"Ratatosk." It said philosophically, and darted off.
He wasn't awake a few minutes later, when they beamed him up to sickbay.
He and Spock eventually talked about the kiss...but Jim never mentioned the squirrel.