Before - Legends "Legends of the Force"(epic drama with OCs), book 1, 32 Chapters, FIN

AzureAngel2 - your attention to worldbuilding amazes me still & the interplay of strong personalities in a constant struggle with one another and themselves Isabeau is an unwilling recipient of all kinds of knowledge about the past and future. Lucien's alternating dominance and concern must make her emotionally dizzy.

 

My dear WarmNyota_SweetAyesha, I had an overdose of Frank Herbert and Marion Zimmer Bradley during my teenager years. Both authors have a strong influence on my writing style.

Besides, I like complicated and I can be a stubborn little donkey. Ask my husband DarthUncle about it. This summer we will be together for 11 years, with all ups and downs imaginable. He once told me, that it is never boring with me.

My friends and acquaintances in RL, to whom I can also count kind folk like earlybird-obi-wan, Cem_Fel (hey, I dared to tag you after a lot of photos & text on your what´s app account this weekend!), MsLanna who is a passionate fanfic writer and others, would also tell you that I am full of words & contradictions at times.

So like Lucien I must make everybody else around me feel dizzy emotionally.

 

I love it; but it is also quite painful to read, to think of how traumatic all this must be for isabeau. And for Lucien too. Especially since him trying to protect, or 'shield' her from her memories, her Force ability, her past, and seemingly, also from most of the teachings of his (their?) holy scriptures, led to what he sought to have averted: their separation.

I am sure that when Isabeau has some time, she might think that the connection she feels to the unknown, grianan with the elven name, is interesting as she was so dead set against being near two elves who didn't seem to be too bad (in fact, seeing as how the sentator Aletheia is their friend, maybe they are potentially good ... just as much as Lucien is?) - knowing some of her thoughts help breed some common ground. Not unlike Lucien trying to read her mind to see what moves her.

The greatest tragedies are those we make ourselves, no pure evil, just humans, trying to live their lives, but unintentionally screwing up for ourselves, or others.

 

Isa is in for a long trip. I just hope that it isn't too much and too fast for her. Lucien is going to have to keep the balance within himself too, or both he and Isa are going to have peoblems.

 

Lucien is complex and so is Isa and I hope the complexities don't lead to evil

 

I should start calling you DarthUncle the wise, husband of mine. Your comment is as sharp and witty as always. Thank you! You also see the trauma for Lucien here, who will seek out help and comfort in the Holy Scripts even more. Which will worsen the situation for everybody.

As for Grianán, we know who she is, even though I might alter the story slightly here and there. I do not think that SWpants will return reading the remake, but I will hopefully kill off some stuff she never liked about the story. And since "Twilight" I see it necessary to change a certain aspect of it, even though I had the idea with an imprint even before the word existed. My first story drafts already took place 28 years ago. The upcoming love relationship got more concrete forms 19 years ago.

Wow, cannot believe that I am busy with it so long! It is a miracle that characters like Nagina came alive in totally different stories!

Your words about tragedies is great. I try not to be much of a drama queen with my new outbreak of streptococcal pneumonia this time, okay?

You also realised the problem straight to the point, Darth_Furio. Let´s see how things will develop within the next chapters. My clever and talented beta WarmNyota_SweetAyesha already knows, but she is discrete as always!

earlybird-obi-wan, let us be hopeful then, even though the weather in Berlin is cold and rainy! Plus I am sitting ill in bed, under the full impression of antibiotics!

 

This weekend I will not be able to update, so I do it right now. Therefore I need to tag some of my usual fan fic readers.

PLEASE tell me if you do not wish to be tagged via PM immediately!!!

DarthUncle
earlybird-obi-wan
Darth_Furio
Lady_Misty
WarmNyota_SweetAyesha


Here we go again:


********************************************************************

The air of Cunabula is loaded with moisture, turning breathing into a real torture. Once I step out of the space ship, I feel sticky and dirty beyond any means.

But it is the jungle that overwhelms my senses. Too many smells and sounds wash over me, seeking my attention.

The landing platform is empty, nobody is there to greet us. Perhaps our arrival is not important enough.

With wobbly legs I step forward into an unknown future.

Suddenly a voice fills my mind. “Through the Force, things you will see, other places, the future, the past. Old friends long gone.“

There it is again, my unwanted Force gift. Solitaire referred to it as ’Remote viewing’. I wish it would have stayed behind on Sapuhru. But it is part of me, always was. The jungle seems brings it out in me in full strength.

Face crimson, I bend at the knees and drop down to the wet metal platform all around me. My hair falls in front of my face immediately, hiding it from unwanted gazes.

“Isabeau, are you well?” wonders Vicomte Ankoù, a slight panic in his voice.

I take a deep, steadying breath before answering him. “Just getting used to this green hell around me,” I press out. “Leave me be!”

I hear him coming closer.

“Don’t!” I warn him, holding up my hand.

He steps back.

For a few heartbeats I just kneel there, unmoving. Then I square my shoulders. “Bring it on!”

The images and sounds are like a sand storm rushing towards me. Then I am in the eye of the storm.

Enveloped in the dark side, a powerful Force user enslaves an entire nation of warriors. He forces them to construct an intricate complex of massive temples throughout their jungle word. Those temples are used for cruel ceremonies and rites. He elevates himself as a god. Statues of him reach into the jungle sky, throwing their shadow everywhere. Also into a future that is even further away.

With all the strength that I possess I struggle back into the present. I am also fighting hard to get repossession of my body again. My focus is drawn inwards.

All that I am originates from the jungle around me. It is not my enemy, it is my alley. The Force is not. It is but a nuisance that distracts my instincts, messes around with my brain like Vicomte Ankoù did several times. I recall my muscle memory, listen to the echoes of my bones. Then I grasp it, the Dance of War.

“I can win this!” I mutter.

Capoeira, as Solitaire taught me via the holocron for many moon months, is a fast and versatile martial art which is historically focused on fighting outnumbered or in technological disadvantage. Well then, I am outnumbered and have more than one disadvantage against my step-brother. The more reason for me to fight back by the ancient law of tooth and claw.

My lips move all by themselves as I speak words that I heard my birth mother utter once. The war mantra of House Riwalan.

“Through passion, I gain strength.
Through strength, I gain power.
Through power, I gain victory.
Through victory, my chains are broken.”

Strength floods back into my limbs, anchoring them in the here and now. The future will not keep me as its slave. Nor will I ever serve Vicomte Ankoù as his pet ever again.

The ships engines howl and while I jump gracefully onto my feet, the dauphine appears out of nowhere. She is a storm of dark energy. Her green eyes are deeper than the jungle around us. More vivid. She wears a cotton sari that matches the colour of her intense eyes. Her blond mane is tamed with hundred of little braids. The only piece of jewellery she wears is a wooden amulet.

“You are not amused, darling?” Senator Aletheia addresses his wife.

A slight earthquake shakes the platform. “Guess!” she hisses.

********************************************************************

Chaos breaks lose in the jungle. Animals are fleeing, their voices dense with terror. I am somewhat reminded of Solitaire’s outburst back in the erg.

“Solitaire? Where is she? What happened?” Arcānā stares at me like some madwoman which causes Luçien to step protectively in front of me.

“Out of my way! I take this one,” I snap and to my surprise he obeys me.

The dauphine leaps towards me, her eyes trying to suck my soul in. I do not shriek back. Instead I focus on my vivid memories of the dune sea.

“Stop hiding, bambina! I want the truth!”

“The truth?” I spit. “Here it is. The desert has many secrets and wants to keep them.”

She blinks at me, uncomprehending. Her husband is right by her side.



“Stay out of my head, Queeny!” My body gets into a defensive caporeia movement, the Queda de Quatro.

Unbidden, a far away future mingles into my presence.

The boy gapes at the man who has just claimed to be his father. But he is only a monster in a mask. He will not follow this mad imposter into the darkness.

Through his agony, he remembers the alternative for fighting.

With courage he steps into eternity.

I move backwards so quickly, that I fall off the platform.

Driven by my survival instinct, I grip a vine and then another one. Like a monkey I tumble downwards, just to vanish into the surrounding jungle.

 

Now that was just cool and what glimpses of a far-off future she did receive!

 

As I just edited in the headline of page 1, WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: Those are visions of Luke during his duel in cloud city and, I could not help it because of the jungle suroundings, Exar Kun.

 

Yuppers, I thought that was what those were.

 

WOW powerful visions of the future

 

Yeah, you never know for sure with Exar Kun though.

Now and then, looking at my old SW books and the SW fact files, I fear I have no clue what true canon is. Disney and all the changes confuse me.



It is therefore a good idea that my stories are always in a legends section.

 

Interesting how the new environment is affecting Isa. I'm an Exar Kun fanboy.

 

Actually so powerful, earlybird-obi-wan, that I forgot to add a water colour painting of Agathos and his wife. Dang! Now I edited that mistake of mine!

Good to know about the fan boy stuff, Darth_Furio.

 

This weekend I am on tour again and so will not be able to update once more, so I do it right now.

PLEASE tell me if you do not wish to be tagged or get a PM!!!

@DarthUncle
@earlybird-obi-wan
@Darth_Furio
@Lady_Misty
@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

Here we go again:


Dark adapted eyes, Chapter 9:

The river smells horrible. It looks like the greasy contents of a soup bowl. I cannot force myself to put a single toe in it. It moves too fast and contains too much life.

I can see a flock of birds swimming on the water, some of them diving for food. And in the distance there seemed to be some kind of predator fish, making its rounds in circles.

“Everything is wrong here!” I cry out.

“Really, Milady? How so?”

A man stands next to me, carrying a sort of parasol in one of his hands. It is closed.

“Who are you?” I bite out for I smelled his essence some place before on someone else.

His olive skin gives him away as an Amnionian citizen. I believe him to be slightly older than Senator Aletheia. His beard contains more white threads.

“Narthex.” He gives me a winning smile. “Simply Narthex.”

“And what are you?” I probe on for his knee-short tunic gives nothing away of his status. It is in ebony white. “Another Amnionian politician? Or the second husband of Her Majesty?”

“Neither.” His smile broadens. “I am the personal master valet of the Prince Consort.”

He opens his parasol and holds it above us.

That very moment a heavy rain shower comes down on us.

I narrow my eyes. The Force is with this one, even though he denies it to himself. That makes him even more sympathetic to me. A trait that we share.

“If you would care to follow me,” Narthex says formally and offers me his left arm, while I am still baffled about his perfect timing.

********************************************************************

The master valet walks me through vast patches of jungle vegetation in which low bungalow houses with large windows are embedded. Amused faces, some reptilian and some humanoid, watch us.

Soon, we walk over great stone plazas with conscripted standing stones. Most of them are decorated with flower garlands.

“They are called orchids,” Narthex explains to me. “They represent the love between Ischáh and her children, the Ophidiae. In addition, they stand for luxury, beauty and strength.”

I smile at the master valet. My fondness of him grows with every heartbeat. His voice can suggest honey or a hidden stiletto blade. To be near him is somewhat intoxicating.

He adds, “It is better to offer the goddess honey and flowers instead of human skulls. In the old times we would have been forced to walk through a sea of dried blood.”

Somebody calls out to me. I know the voice pattern fairly well.

Immediately, I scan my surroundings for Senator Aletheia.

“Marquise!” He waves enthusiastically at me from one of the bungalows. “Narthex found you.”

“Indeed, milord,” the master valet calls back. “Her Ladyship had a walk by the river.”

“The more reason to ask her inside. She must be ravenous by now.”

This comment is more than true. I could devour an entire eopie. The jungle air makes me very hungry.

********************************************************************

I had suspected Senator Aletheia to live in a large palace with an army of servants and luxury beyond any imagination. Not in a bungalow like the natives. Once inside, I get another surprise. The interior is rather modern. A blue light globe and framed paintings of large water creatures give the living-room a marine atmosphere.

The prince consort is seated on a rotan sofa. Opposite to him sits Vicomte Ankoù. He is unmasked. Both men drink a sweet smelling substance that is mixed with lemon juice.

I scowl. But this is more due to the underlying scent of baby nappies that lies in the air. No one but me filters it out. I wonder where the royal serpent-spawn is. At least one of them must be inside the bungalow.

“Your towel, Madam.” The master valet grants me an honest smile.

Gingerly, I take it from him, eyeing him with high curiosity. Only now that I have calmed down I notice that he reeks of child contact. He must have changed a nappy recently and has used soap to clean his hands.

“Oh and Narthex, could you also manage more café for all of us?” Senator Aletheia asks with a friendliness that I have never heard from any of my step-mothers towards our slaves. “Does Your Ladyship prefer Your café with or without caffeine?”

Narthex seems embarrassed about his master’s question. “I presume Your Ladyship likes Your coffee in the way all the desert people do: black as night without any sugar and also without any drop of bantha milk.”

When I slowly nod, the master valet smiles brightly. “Just as I thought. If you all will excuse me...”

While Narthex rushes away with sufficient grace and speed, the prince consort makes an inviting gesture. “Please have a seat, Milady!”

I sit down, my gaze lowered. Small talk is not my thing, never was. I simply stare at the table until the master valet is back, carrying a rosé sari. It is elegantly swung over his right underarm.

“The café water is set and I took the freedom to open Her Ladyship’s suitcase for her. I thought she would feel more comfortable in her own garments.”

Senator Aletheia looks at Narthex with pride and gratitude. “What would this humble bungalow be without your insight and management skills!”

“Just another patch of wilderness on this planet, Sir. Which reminds me...” Supportive, the master valet offers me his arm. “Hot bath water awaits you in the bath chamber, Milady.”

I find myself getting up and link my arm with his. He radiates so much high confidence and reliability that he charms me easily.

“Take your time,” he advises me. “I will know when I can serve dolmades, souvlakia and baklava for everybody.“

I have no clue what those dishes are, but I suppose them to be of Amnionian origin. For the sake of Narthex I will give them a try.

Beaming, I let the master valet accompany me to the bath chamber that is nicely tiled and yet so very unlike Sapuhrian architecture.

********************************************************************

(To be continued!)

 

Do love Narthex. He is competent and lively and welcoming to Isabeau.

 

Yes, WarmNyota_SweetAyesha. He is. I always think about Alan Rickman when writing about him.

 

So that's how a master valet/butler does his seamlessly smooth job with the force!

It is great how from last update where Isabeau is stressed by all the life and unknowns in her new surroundings, she is calmed down by the soothing presence of Narthex (and his master?), without knowing him at all (a dab of force use to ease her where needed, for calm and peace?) And the marvel continues as Lucien keeps his mouth shut; I guess being a guest of the senator helps

I am glad for Isabeau that she found her future can hold ease and an eye for beauty on this planet, and a relaxing bath; she has been high strung and stressed for quite a few chapters now.

 

You of all people know, DarthUncle that my Narthex is mostly inspired by Stephen Fry as the smooth valet Jeeves in the gorgeous P.G. Wodehouse novels. (Even though he happens to look like a olive skinned Alan Rickman in my fanfic.)



And yes, Narthex and Agathos bring Greek philosophy and life style (such as gorgeous dishes) into the story. Which also has an effect on both Isa & Luc.

 

I love Narthex and his care for Isa

 

A lazy Saturday evening spent catching up on this fic is an evening well spent

And boy did things happen while I was away! Isabeau's life has been turned upside down, then back up and down again. She has learned so much about herself, about those around her and about some who will not come to be for millenia to come. She is having difficulty adapting to this new knowledge, and she suffers for it.

Her relationship with Lucien is interesting. Both of them are likable and unlikable characters at the same time, they belong to opposite ends of the spectrum yet they have much in common too.

And, lastly, your world-building is amazing. From the deserts of Isa's homeworld to the jungle planet she discovers for the first time, you have created entire societies and cultures that are simply fascinating and whose mixed histories are a mystery that is unravelling little by little as Isa grows into her own.

I'm playing catch-up with a very long list of unread fics right now, but I hope that I'll manage to be around for your next update!

 

Dear Chyntuck, when I read your long and nice comment last night, I was at the local shopping mall and went cheering. My husband became very smiley. The two of us just had returned from a nice day out with an old childhood friend.

Thanks for taking the time to read! And all the praise! I am sooo happy that you caught up! And grateful! Especially now that I have Greek things to offer from now on, especially food dishes & drinks being mentioned!

In this re-wrote story I try to concentrate more on Isabeau than in the first draft. Some plot lines will run different, because I had a lot of time to think about it & my former editor SWpants pointed out some non-sense text chunks to me.

Isabeau has more space to develop and, by accident, that gave Lucien more room for his own development. (But he will keep his own story book "Human heritage" with slight alterations.) I am glad that my dynamics between them seems credible & believable. And yes, they mirror each other now more perfectly and better than a couple of years ago in the original text.

As for the world building: as George Lucas I am a great fan of Flash Gordon. When I grew up in the 80ies I had my mom buying me all the ten German audi plays by the EUROPA company. While listening, I started to wonder how the Imperial palace looks like & some other places being mentioned: Arboria, Frigia, and so on.

When I was in my teens, I started to watch documentaries, mostly about history, geography & nature. (Mainly from National Geographics.)

Okay, here is the list of my other readers. Tell me if you do NOT want to be tagged for an update of this particular story:

@DarthUncle
@earlybird-obi-wan
@Darth_Furio
@Lady_Misty
@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

Here we are, the second part of Chapter 9. It is shorter, because a lot of things will go on in this particular chapter:

********************************************************************

Narthex seems to be at many places at once, rubbing my back with a sponge, serving café in the living-room and cooking delicious food in the kitchen. For a human his age he is lithe and fast. He seems to be a true master in everything that he does, yet he is free of hubris. Which makes him even more likeable.

“That was quite a treatment,” I beam, while I stand behind a paravent and dry myself with a soft, fluffy towel. I still smell of local herbs and flowers.

“Water, especially from the sacred cenotes, is a powerful element to the locals,” he explains, while tidying up the bath asses-soirs.

I believe the master valet that water can be a link to health and balance. To me, desert-born, water is the essence of life itself.

“The islanders perform their morning washing ritual at the local river. To them it is a prayer to their goddess. The water is her blood as much as the soil is her bones and the air is her spirit.”

Around Narthex I have no trouble to speak my mind. “No wonder that the river water is so dirty.”

He grins, his teeth flashing out as a white, firm line against the black of his beard. “Yet, they regard it as holy water.”

This leads me to a very important question. “Is it their cure for everything?”

To my relief the master valet shakes his head. “All illnesses are treated by their cool or hot relationship with energy flow levels. They use fire, earth and air as well. Holistic rituals one might say, based on their concept of the Unifying Force.” His smile widens. “In the end it comes down to this, milady: love, kindness, intuitive compassion, and listening in peace are the most important parts of the healing process.”

That does not sound very much like the fierce she-warriors that I have heard of. Creatures of the dark side, whirlwinds of doom.

Narthex seems to know what ails me. “The change came during the Star Wars already. Some members of the priesthood saw the devastation, not only in the land but within the hearts of many. The framework of the Force itself was in peril.”

I find myself holding my breath.

“So courageous snake priestesses started to sacrifice themselves for the well-being of others. They were little acts of kindness in a world that had spun out of control. But those deaths left imprints. They were like little lights. The dark side could not win against such acts of unselfishness. The light began to spread, it still does.”

Sickness pits deep in my stomach, curling and knotting into a painful ball. There is no healing possible between Vicomte Ankoù and me. I cannot live in his shadow, nor can I breathe around him. He is too oppressive, his darkness too overwhelming.

When Narthex offers me one of my indoor saris, woven from a fabric as light as a breeze, I hesitate. I am not sure if I can ever get myself to wear one ever again. Dirty paws have polluted what once was mine. I better burn the lot.

“So you would prefer something local already, milady?” he asks, a knowing smile on his lips.

Gratefully, I nod.

Narthex vanishes from the bathroom and returns after a while. He carries a light brown dress with pretty ornaments. “This is a cuyuscate. They are very common on the Holy Isle.”

I give him a grateful smile.

“It goes with this hair sash,” he explains.

“Thank you,” I breathe.

The master valet comes a step closer. “It is not my place to interfere between you and your noble step-brother,” he says bluntly. “But I can see that he truly loves you.”

“That may be,” I reply. “But I do not feel any affection for him any more. He has become a total stranger. Perhaps I never knew him.”

He looks at me with great sadness.

I feel that I owe him an explanation of sorts. It is the most honest one I can think of. “Vicomte Ankoù has been in my head ever since I stumbled into his life.” My voice becomes small as I admit those acts of mental harassment. “I have come to believe that he tampered with my memory during more than one occasion.”

********************************************************************

As we re-enter the living-room, the prince consort is just saying, “I advise you to have some clear mineral water from the Highlands along with the wine. Arcānā imports it especially for me.” He chuckles. “My body gets slightly upset from the local river water.“

Vicomte Ankoù’s gaze meets mine. His cat eyes glitter with conflicting emotion. Something tells me that he has found unnatural ways to spy on me. It serves him well to be confronted with his crimes like this. In time I will not only tell Narthex.

My lips thin and bitterness crawls into my chest.

Just as I am about to sit down the master valet pours me a cup of café. He is gone again before my polite thanks is fully out of my mouth. I still feel the reassuring pressure of his hand on my left shoulder though.

Then the promised dolmades arrive. They are obviously meat rolled in wine leaves.

“Where will they go, once I have dropped them off for you?” inquires Vicomte Ankoù abruptly, concern written over his features.

Senator Aletheia stays smiley. I start to wonder if that man ever feels the slightest panic. He is as poised and controlled as Narthex. The question remains who is the master and who is the student. “They will stay in Ceilonwyn.” With that he begins breaking bread. “In my eyes they are neither political activists nor dangerous criminals.”

I suspect that they are talking about Ahearne and his two companions. It feels like high treason somehow. I wish they would not discuss it while I am around.

“Don’t you think it is dangerous to go through with this plan?” Vicomte Ankoù probes. “Your wife will not be happy about your act of clemency.”

“I will talk to Arcānā about Ruadhan soon enough. Other things have more priority.” Suddenly, something feral lurks behind the prince consort’s polite façade. An iron will that is better not challenged. “My niece, I want you to keep her out of harm’s way. Is that understood?”

Vicomte Ankoù tenses, his entire body bristling with rage.

An olive coloured fist comes down on the table and makes me jump. “Let me be very clear of this, Luçien!” shouts Senator Aletheia. “You owe me. This one you owe me. A life for a life.”

The answer explodes in a rush of air. “As you wish.”

“Good. Then I will not mention the obvious again.”

Senator Aletheia deals out the bread pieces and gives me an apologetic smile that reaches his eyes. I begin to understand why I am really here on this isle. This has nothing to do with the generosity of the prince consort. I am sort of a hostage. Yet, I cannot hate him for this bold plan. My admiration is for real.

The main dish arrives. It consists of small pieces of meat and vegetables grilled on a skewer. We all remain silent, but I prefer it this way. There is not much that I could possibly add to a civilized conversation.

Straight after the gorgeous dessert – thin pastry layers filled with nuts and pistachios – I fall sound asleep.

********************************************************************
(To be continued!)

 

tense discussions there at the dinner table
and now Isa finds out why she is there

 

This bit did not exist in the original text, but I could not help adding it. It gives Agathos more depth as a character.

 

A hostage, or part of a mutually (between three or four parties?) agreeable and peace-creating solution?