Seeing Iskandar like this was strange, to say the least. Normally so full of life and joy, this subdued man he held in his arms clashed with what he knew of him. But what did he really know? He knew from the history books, sure, but history was not a man. That Iskandar felt comfortable showing his side of himself spoke volumes, Kirk thought as he stroked his hair tenderly, and he promised himself not to waste it.

"It's okay," he murmured. "Do you want to tell me about him? Or talk about it?" he offered, all the while keeping up his gentle stroking.