[ John Donne, by Isaac Oliver. ]
Fic Rec
All Joys Are Due to Thee
by sssibilance
And here is the final in the triplet of stories, where Garak and Bashir have moved on from the shack into an apartment, Garak is an elected official, and they go to a fancy garden party. There, Bashir is put in the position of being Human arm-candy and also having to explain/defend Human cultural references. But fortunately he is well read! And so is the author of this piece, an English professor who goes to town with John Donne and the sort of literary criticism/discussion fic I like. But it’s not all dry cocktail part stuff. Oh, no. It goes on to other things. See my tags! A+.
Excerpt
With a satisfied little tilt of the mouth, Sitess settled back more comfortably in his seat and used his PADD to gesture toward a surprised Bashir. “You see, Doctor. This Donne’s lover has conquered a land by romancing his lady.” He scanned down the text, picking out words as he passed the. “‘Kingdom,’ ’ labour,’ 'empirie,’ 'mine,’ 'bonds,’ 'seal,’ 'licence.’ Donne strips this land in the form of his lover, describes its natural resources, maps it, conquer, and then lastly affirms that it is the better for it.” Here he lifted his PADD again and read the last couplet.
“To teach thee, I am naked first; why then
What needst thou have more covering than a man.”
Madam Hress snorted with the art of a woman who has sat through many person’s woeful attempts at wooing. “It seems to me, this is yet another man who wishes to couch his prUt’s questing in beautiful verse.”
This amused Garak greatly, who laughed clear and full-bodied with Izbet and Lady Martik, their chuckles echoing off the back of the garden’s high retaining wall. Bashir giggled at their reaction, embarrassed by the high sound of his own laughs.
“Oh, my.” Garak let out one last chortle. “Madam Hress, you are keen student of man.” Bashir caught Izbet’s eye at this and both couldn’t help sharing a snort together. “Is not all poetry about rutting, or impressing one enough to earn that pleasure?”
Sitess seemed to not like the way this conversation was going, and was about to voice that, but Bashir thought it would be better and more amusing to cut him off. “My dear, perhaps I ought to have written you poetry.” He waved his pinkie at Garak in admonishment, while the group snickered. “Seven years!” Bashir addressed the little group. “Seven years of lunches and debating. I can tell Donne about labours!”
“Did you not once send me this very poem to read?” Garak asked, easily picking up on Bashir’s little diverting spectacle.
Bashir looked round the table with self-deprecating disappointment. “Well, I’m sad to say, friends, it did little good.” Their little play had the intended effect: the table, save Sitess, was chuckling or laughing outright. Sadly, Sitess was not not be deterred.
Metadata
Title: All Joys Are Due to Thee
Author: ssibilance
Year Posted: 2014
Approx. Word Count: 13,000
Chapters: 1
GB - Slash or Platonic: Slash
My Rating (1-5): 5
Keywords: Post-Canon Cardassia, Literary Discussion, Poetry, Xenophobia, Established Relationship, Explicit, Smut
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