Beyond - Legends Enchanted - A Star Wars Fairytale (AU; SkySolos, Jag, Tahiri, Vader, etc) - update 29. July

Jacen is such a flirt, I love it. Makes me excited for when he meets Tenel Ka. That should be interesting.

 

The irony of paying off the bounty from the sheriff's reward is quite inspired!

Nomi is kinda fun with her vague references: "…I've heard of the Solos…" uh-huh, sure. No question dodging there!

 

loved the update and Anakin and Tahiri have met more soon

 

Nyota's Heart - I'm glad you approve so far! We'll be seeing Nomi again later on.

snowduchess - yeah, I'm re-interpreting canon!Jacen a little, trying to bring his YJK and his NJO self together a little better. I'm hoping you guys will approve. He's a lot of fun to write, especially with Tenel Ka!

SiouxFan - oh yeah, no one can accuse the Solos of lacking ideas! As for Nomi - yep, there's definitely more to her than meets the eye...

Falcon - glad you liked it, thank you!

Also, hi to all the lurkers, thanks for reading! I'll post the next update in a bit. If you want to be tagged or PM'd for updates, say the word!

 

And now for a little bit of Solo/Skywalker family time...

* * *​

The kitchen smelled of apple pie. The kids sat arrayed around the table, busy stuffing food into their mouths.

“This is a far cry from the dungeon,” Zekk said, devouring his second slice. He was the general centre of attention, something that he met with embarrassed chuckles and a warm look in his eyes. “Thank you so much.”

Leia nodded, smiling. “There’s bread if you’re still hungry. Didn’t they feed you?”

“Oh, sure. But I think when bread can run away from you it doesn’t count as food anymore.”

Jaina elbowed him. “Eww.”

Lienna’s eyes were round. “Did it really run away?”

“Don’t listen to him,” Jacen said, heaping custard onto his plate. “He’s full of sh—crap.”

“Shcrap,” Thalia said, giggling, her tone that of a girl who knows far more words than her parents would like. “Jayshen can’t shpeak anymore!”

“Only with my mouth full,” Jacen said, enunciating the words clearly around a spoonful of custard and pie. He winked at Thalia and fed some custard to Lotus the cat, who lay on his lap.

“Jacen,” Leia admonished.

Her son’s response consisted of an alarmingly innocent expression and the ever-so-slight promise of a grin threatening to break through. It was an expression that Jacen had mastered when he was two years old, although he’d been twelve before he’d fully learned what it could do. It could disarm teachers, shopkeepers, and guardsmen alike. On the face of a nine-year-old, it prompted women to give him sweets. On the face of a nineteen-year-old, it prompted them to something a little different, but no less welcome.

Leia was almost immune to it. She held his gaze for another moment, then shook her head, smiling despite her best efforts.

The grin broke through and spread over Jacen’s face and he reached over to give his mother a one-armed hug. “Love you, Mom.”

Leia sighed. “I always get so suspicious when you say that.”

The door flew open, admitting a gust of cold air and Anakin Solo.

Thalia jumped up and hopped off her chair. “Akkin!”

Anakin scooped up his cousin and tousled her hair. “Hey, Thaly!”

“Did you really jump off the drawbridge?” Ben demanded, looking across the table with an eager expression.

“Who told you that?”

“Jacen!” Thalia said.

Anakin clucked his tongue. “You know you shouldn’t believe everything Jacen says.”

“We don’t! That’s why we’re asking you,” Thalia said, as if it were obvious.

Anakin chuckled, set her down, and grabbed a chair for himself. “Good, good.”

Jacen glared at his brother. “You’re going to confuse the poor kids. I was telling the truth.”

Anakin took a plate and manoeuvred a slice of pie onto it. “This time, maybe. It’s still good advice.”

“Did you pay off Bombaasa?” Leia asked.

Anakin nodded, mouth already full of pie and custard.

Leia let out a relieved breath. There was something about bounties on her children that made it hard to sleep. The price on her own head was old news, and it was only her problem anyway, but her children were another matter.

“And,” Anakin added, holding up a hand and swallowing hurriedly, “I got a job.”

He held up a hand as the questions started, and kept talking. “Driving a carriage over to Nirauan next week. Apparently there’s some kind of ball at the Fortress.”

Jaina snorted. “What, one of the Fels actually managed to find one of his?”

Jacen managed to bring his hands up in time to spray custard into them, as opposed to across the table. Zekk’s tea took a wrong turn and his shoulders shook while tears shot into his eyes. Ben began to pound him on the back with enthusiasm.

“It’s in honour,” Anakin went on when he’d wrestled his own laughter back under control, “of Prince Jagged’s birthday. Lando says everyone will be there.” He shot a look at his mother. “Even rumours that the Emperor will show up.”

“I doubt that,” Leia said, suddenly thoughtful. “But you could have a look around, couldn’t you? It’s a good chance to get a look at the political situation and those involved.”

“Reconnaissance?” Jaina asked. “I can tell you what you’ll find out. The Emperor’s evil, the prince is a spoiled brat, and everyone else is somewhere in between.”

“Wow, you’re on a roll today, aren’t you?” asked Zekk, who was still being pummelled by Ben. “Thanks, Ben, you can stop now.”

“Aww, really?”

“I’m absolutely sure,” Zekk assured him. “What’ve you got against the prince, Jay?”

“He’s a prince.”

“So’s Jacen, technically.”

Jaina’s disdainful expression didn’t change. Only her eyebrow rose, silently asking how that made the matter any better.

Zekk chuckled. “Well, you’re a princess.”

“Wasn’t raised as one,” Jaina said. “Look, I just don’t like them. Royalty. Some of them are probably okay, but look at Horm. He’s only a minor lord, and he’s bad enough.”

Anakin nodded, the look on his face speaking volumes.

“Maybe they get better as you go up,” Jacen suggested, playing devil’s advocate as usual.

“Uh-huh,” Anakin said. “Palpatine’s at the top, remember?”

“Oh yeah.”

It was an old topic in the Solo home. Leia’s status as the rightful Queen of Alderaan and Han’s disdain for authority figures had filtered down to their children in equal measure, and the results were interesting, to say the least. Anti-monarchism was a challenge when you were the monarchy, but the Solo kids had also inherited their parents’ love for challenges, so the outcome was still open.

Leia, for her part, could admit to a measure of relief at leaving her royal life behind, but it was a guilty sort of relief. She hadn’t, after all, left her kingdom in the best hands. She was determined to set that right as soon as she could.

The gods alone knew what her children would do then.

“Royalty turns bad when they forget their duties and take only the benefits,” she said now. “The point of a king isn’t to have someone who’s richer than everyone else and can do what he wants. The point is to have someone in charge who looks after the people and their needs.”

“Like Palpatine,” Jaina said. “Sure.”

Leia shot her daughter an admonishing look. “No, of course not like Palpatine. But take King Soontir, for example. He might be loyal to the Emperor, but he’s a good ruler.”

“Dad hates him,” Jaina said, in a tone that implied that this was more than enough justification to categorise Soontir as one of the bad guys.

“He and Soontir Fel have their own... bit of history,” Leia said with queenly diplomacy. “But it’s not hate. Soontir’s a good man. Even Han will admit that.”

“Under pressure,” Jacen added.

Han Solo chose that moment to enter the kitchen. He was a tall man, lanky but broad-shouldered, his dark hair streaked with grey. Every inch of him, down to the scuffed boots, resented authority. Somehow, just in looking at him, you knew that the answer to any order you might try to give would be some sarcastic variant of “no”.

He greeted his assembled family with grin more crooked than most government officials, and leaned over to kiss Leia full on the mouth. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Leia smiled. “Hey, you.”

Behind Han, a huge hairy figure stepped through the door and growled a greeting. Leia waved at him. “Hi, Chewie. Sit down, you two, I saved you some pie.”

Han pulled up a chair, looking across at Zekk. “Hey, kid. I see you made it back in one piece.”

“You knew about that?” Leia demanded.

“Nope.” Han reached for a plate. “But it’s all over town. They say you guys just strolled out.”

“We pretty much did,” Jaina said. “Can’t say much for Horm’s security.”

“Hey, if it weren’t for my inspired performance and superior acting abilities—” Jacen began, grinning.

“Oh yeah, Jacen did the really hard part,” Jaina said. “All me and Anakin had to do was sneak through the castle, pick a few locks, change Zekk into a respectable-looking young man...”

“That does sound like the harder part,” Han said.

Zekk sent him a look that bordered on, but didn’t quite dare to become, a glare. “Thanks.”

Han chuckled and nodded at Anakin. “And what’s this I heard about you flying out of Horm’s castle? And how do you kill someone by throwing their own arrow back at them?”

“You don’t,” Anakin said. “And I can’t fly.”

“Oh, good. I’m glad to hear that.” Han shook his head, exchanging a wry look with Leia. “That’s the last thing we need, you kids learning to fly.”

“I can do without it,” Leia agreed. “But what about you? How did it go?”

“Got a job,” Han reported. “There’s a shipment coming in in a few days, and Bombaasa needs someone to get it into Corellia.”

Leia frowned. “Not through the forest again, Han.”

“Around it,” Han said. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep to the edge.”

Leia nodded, somewhat uncertainly. Myrkr Forest was the biggest, most dangerous area of woodland in the realm. Like all the best haunted places, stories about it were at once chillingly ominous and conveniently vague, perfect for scaring children into behaving themselves. There were tales of beautiful, child-stealing fae, witches who cast spells on travellers, and of course, Myrkr itself. The forest, it was whispered, held a magic all its own.

There were rules, of course. The forest bordered on the Solos’ own land, at the far end of the paddock where the hill evened out. But it was only beyond the little stream that ran through it a bit further on that it became Myrkr. And if you were smart, and kept to the path, and did not make any deals with any strange people who showed up, you were, theoretically, perfectly safe. But that was theory, and theory did not make the stories, nor did it make reality.

Han and Chewie had crossed through it once, evading an Imperial patrol and cutting almost a day off their smuggling run, but they’d almost gotten completely lost and eaten by vornskrs. Han did not remember that adventure fondly, but Han was a man who lived on the edge, so Leia was never completely sure that he wouldn’t do it again.

“Make sure you do,” she said now. “Luke and I have better things to do than rescue you all the time.”

Chewie chuffed with laughter and barked an assurance. He, at least, was in no hurry to try his luck with Myrkr again. That went a long way towards reassuring Leia, because in a pinch, Chewbacca had enough raw strength to make Han see things his way or, lacking that, drag him along that way regardless.

“What’s the shipment?” Anakin asked.

“Weapons,” Han said, and Leia winced.

“I don’t like it.”

“I know.” He blew out a breath. “They’re paying well, Leia. Real well. Ten crowns up front, plus fifty when we get to Coronet, plus another ten if we help get 'em onto the ship.”

“That’s dangerous.”

“Yeah, but it pays. Don’t worry, we’ll be gone two weeks, maybe three. You’ll hardly have time to miss us.”

“You know I will.”

His eyes softened. “Yeah. I know.”

She nodded, sitting up a little straighter. “Fine. Good. At least it’s something. Anakin got a job, too. Driving.”

Han grinned and reached for another slice of pie. “That’s my boy.”

“Dad.”

Han ignored his son’s protest and took Leia’s hand. “See? Things are looking up, sweetheart. Don’t worry.”

Leia heaved a sigh and gave her husband a wry smile. He meant well, but Han’s reassurances were never all that convincing. Somehow, they always just made her worry more.

​

​

* * *​

​

By the time Luke and Mara made their way back to the Eyrie, the evening sunlight was slanting almost horizontally through the trees, casting golden highlights into Mara’s red hair. Luke breathed deep, holding Mara’s hand in his and enjoying the last few moments of peace. This was his and Mara’s time, a breather for both of them, when they walked between the clamour in the villages they visited almost daily and the children and chaos back home.

But by the end of the day, he always looked forward to seeing his family again.

Anakin was standing at the far end of the back yard when Luke and Mara arrived, chopping wood. He looked up and waved his axe. “Hey!”

“Hey,” Luke called. “Everyone make it back okay?”

“Of course,” Anakin said with a nonchalant expression that brought out his resemblance to his father. His shirt was torn, Luke noticed; the front hung open halfway to his navel, the fabric ripped free of the fastening cords. His pants were dirty, too, and his dark hair mussed, but with Anakin, that much was normal. “No problem. They’re all inside.” He waved towards the house.

“No problem. Sure.” Mara shook her head, smiling. She tugged at Luke’s hand. “Come on. Into the fray.”

The Solo kitchen was a scene of comfortable chaos, as usual. The children were playing on the stairs, one of their play-pretend games that involved Ben and Thalia fighting to protect Lienna, sometimes from each other. Jacen and Zekk stood at the sink, washing and drying the dishes, while Leia and Jaina worked together at the spinning wheel. Han and Chewbacca were nowhere to be seen.

“Mommy!” Lienna yelled, jumping to her feet on the landing and clattering down the stairs. The other two only glanced over and waved, their attention still on their game.

Mara swung Lienna up and kissed her cheek. “Hey, Leelee! Have you been a good girl for Aunt Leia?”

“We got apple pie!” Lienna announced. “I helped.”

“They were all very good,” Leia said, a smile on her face. “Come on in, sit down. How did it go?”

“Great,” Luke said, sinking gratefully onto a chair. “We were able to take the cast off little Calla. She’s hopping around on her crutches and healing well. She asked for you,” he added, looking at Jacen.

Jacen smiled. “I’ll drop in to see her next time I’m there.”

“How did your little quest go?” Mara asked, gesturing at Zekk.

“It’s a long and wonderful story.” Jacen handed the last plate to Zekk and pulled up a chair. “Anakin even met a girl.”

“And Jacen met many,” Jaina said, clearly defending her little brother in his absence. “Who was that sitting on your lap, Jace?”

“Molly,” Jacen said, narrowing his eyes at his sister. “Or Millie. Or Polly. I’m pretty sure. So how’s Cole, he get over his infection?” he asked Luke, turning back abruptly.

“He’s fine,” Luke reported. “He’s still coughing a little, but he’s up and about and back at work.”

Jacen nodded, satisfied. “Good.”

“We brought dinner,” Mara said, pointing to the baskets they’d deposited beside the table. “I was thinking we could all eat together. Leia? What d’you think?”

Leia smiled. “Sounds good.”

They often cooked and ate together when Luke and Mara had been in one of the villages. More often than not, people paid them with food, although they’d never asked. Eating together with the Solos afterwards was a good way to share it.

It was, Luke knew, one of the few sources of food and money that Leia did not feel guilty about. He himself had to battle his conscience occasionally, but growing up on a farm had left him with a far more pragmatic outlook. Doing the right thing was well and good, but at the end of the day, you had to eat. And there weren’t many legitimate job opportunities for outlaws and exiles.

Even so, Leia still struggled with it.

The door swung open behind Luke and Han stepped through it, followed by the tall form of Chewbacca. He clapped Luke on the back. “Hey, kid.”

Leia looked up at her husband. “Did you get it fixed?”

“All done.” Han glanced over, caught sight of the spinning wheel, and made a face. Luke hid a smile. Han had spent less than a year in a magic sleep after that whole unfortunate business with Lando and Vader, but he still made a point of hating the things. Even when it was one he’d built himself.

“Careful with that thing, sweetie,” Han said to Jaina.

Jaina only rolled her eyes at him and kept spinning. She was good at spinning. Luke wasn’t surprised; it was entirely normal for the Solo kids to excel at things that made their parents nervous.

It was also curious how much wool Leia seemed to take in for spinning. Luke had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with Han’s theatrics, and revolved around the general theme of provocation.

But he’d rather have stabbed himself with an enchanted spindle than got involved.

“I thought we might get a bit of training in while it’s still light outside,” he said now, looking at the kids. “If you’re up for it?”

Their immediate grins told him the answer even before Jacen’s “hells yeah!”, and he smiled. The kids’ enthusiasm for learning the ways of the Force was at once infectious and humbling. Granted, part of that enthusiasm probably stemmed from the delight of doing something forbidden, but that only served to make Luke more conscious of the responsibility that lay on his shoulders. It was empowering and intimidating all at once, a mix of feelings that seemed irrevocably tied to being a Jedi.

They began with some meditative exercises. Luke led them all through the stretches, handstands, and slow movements designed to focus concentration, his mind reaching out to the Force.

Years ago, before the birth of the twins, the thought of teaching others what he’d learned had terrified him. He’d lost his own teachers far too early, and much of the knowledge of the old order of Jedi mages had died with them. He only knew a handful of the proper incantations and spells, and no more than the bare bones of the Code and its rules.

It was the reason why no one had seen him as a threat, but it had never mattered. Because Luke, in his naivete and ignorance, had realised something that those raised to the Jedi ways could not: the words were not important. The rules were not important. Someone, at some point, had made them all up.

And without them, Luke had been unpredictable, the hidden ace up his teacher’s sleeve.

Just like the kids would be, he knew. It made these lessons all the more important and far more terrifying, and that was never far from his mind.

 

Iverna! I loved the comfy family feel over food And Jaina's reaction to the Fels - very understandable but just wait!!! She'll change her mind about a certain princeling soon Tickled about the twist where carbonite turns into an enchanted spinning wheel. Hope Han's jaunt through Myrkr is uneventful, and the ball quite a bit of yummy matches forming.

 

loved the update more soon

 

I'd love to be tagged in this! Really interesting story!

 

Continuing to love and enjoy. Love the family all together, and am intrigued by the political backstory of Leia not being "queen." Great work!

 

You made me almost spit out my pop! (I'm from the midwest, it's NOT soda!) The line about '…it's tough being anti-Monarchy…' made me think of a commercial where a secretary walks into her boss's office and he makes the comment about '…sticking it to the man…' -- 'Aren't YOU the man?' -- 'Oh, yeah. I am.'

Good stuff!

 

Nyota's Heart - I'm glad you enjoyed it! I had a lot of fun twisting the fairytales to suit the GFFA stories. It took a long time to figure it all out, but I think it was worth it... we shall see, I guess!

Falcon - thank you, I'll do my best!

windu4 - I'll add you to the list, and thank you!

taramidala - thanks! Yeah, things didn't really work out quite the same here. It wouldn't have been nearly as much fun to have everyone start out as princes and princesses, after all!

SiouxFan - hah, no worries, I'm from Ireland. We don't call it soda OR pop, we say "fizzy drink". I'm glad you enjoyed the update though! Thank you!

 

A week later, Jaina hugged her father, pressing her face against the rough fabric of his shirt. “Gonna miss you, Dad.”

“I’ll miss you too, sweetie,” said Han, who was trying hard to forget that he would.

Jacen was next to hug him, or rather, perform that pat-on-the-back exchange that counted as a hug between a father and his teenage son.

“Stay out of trouble,” said Han, in accordance with the rule for male communication, which forbade any mention of emotion.

Jacen scoffed. “You stay out of trouble.”

Anakin had said his goodbyes earlier, before leaving to collect his driver’s uniform from Lando. He would spend the night in Nirauan and only return tomorrow afternoon, which hadn’t thrilled Leia and prompted some suggestions about palace maids from Jacen.

Han kissed his wife goodbye and mounted one of the horses that he and Chewie had procured. Chewbacca was already astride the other, a huge beast on which the Wookiee almost managed to avoid looking ridiculous. He rode bareback, as usual. They’d never managed to find riding gear to fit him, and he’d never had a problem convincing a horse to see things his way.

Jaina and Jacen stood on either side of their mother and waved as their father and Chewie set off down the road. It was a familiar sight, but neither of them had learned to like it yet.

“All right.” Jaina turned away from the road and squared her shoulders. “Now what? Do we have any wool left? Or shall I get started on lunch?”

Leia gave her daughter a surprised look. “You want to make lunch?”

“I want to do something,” said Jaina, who always felt useless when other people left to go to work.

“Well, we’re out of wool,” Leia told her. “But I do have a job for you two. We’re running low on food. Anakin will bring money tomorrow, but we need that for other things. And it’s been a while since you went mushroom-picking, so I thought today is a good day for it.”

“You want us to go into the forest?” asked Jacen, a little too eagerly.

Leia gave him a stern look. “Only if you have to. There are plenty of mushrooms in the fields around here.” She sent an appealing look at Jaina.

“I’ll keep him out of trouble,” Jaina promised. “Let me just go get my bow. Maybe we’ll catch a rabbit.”

That prompted a grimace from Jacen, who hated hunting and would have adopted the entire local fauna if he’d been allowed. Half the reason why Jaina hunted with a bow, she said, was that it didn’t leave Jacen enough time to close the distance and befriend the animal before she shot it. Her draw time and accuracy were both excellent, possibly as a result of this.

Her bow was her most prized possession. Lando had given it to her for her sixteenth birthday. It was a recurve with a light draw, and like everything Jaina owned, it was in prime condition.

Armed with the bow, several baskets, and a knife each, the twins got ready to leave. Leia handed them a bundle with some bread and a water canteen, and warned them to be careful.

“I want you back before sundown,” she said. “But if you can’t make it, find shelter. Don’t stay out after dark.”

“We’ll be fine,” Jacen began, but his mother was having none of it.

“I mean it,” she said. “If you show up here late without a good reason, you’re doing each other’s chores for a week.”

The twins shared a quick mental image of Jaina feeding the animals and Jacen doing repairs around the house, and winced in unison.

“Thrown out of our own house,” said Jacen, shaking his head sadly. “Let’s drop breadcrumbs so we can find our way back.”

Leia scowled. “Jacen. I’m not throwing you out.”

“He’d never drop food anyway.” Jaina flashed her mother a reassuring smile. “We’ll be careful, Mom. Promise.”

“Yeah.” Jacen gave Leia a hug. “See you later, Mom.”

Jaina felt briefly guilty for leaving her mother all alone, but the feeling was gone almost before it came up. Mara and Luke lived less than half an hour away, and hardly a day went by without a visit one way or the other. Besides, she reasoned, she and Jacen would be back in a few hours.

Had she known just how wrong that was, she might have rethought the entire venture.

But, being Jaina Solo, probably not.

​

​

* * *​

Jag revelled in the feel of the air rushing past him, sweeping his hair back as he rode over the grass on Claw’s back. The stallion’s powerful muscles moved smoothly, responding to the slightest pressure from his rider.

Jag gripped his bow and rose slightly as his target came into view. Wind whipped at his eyelashes and the bow wavered with his and the stallion’s movement, but Jag kept his eye on the target. When he was in range, he loosed the first arrow and was reaching back for the next one before the string had finished recoiling.

Half-standing in the stirrups, it was a challenge to keep the horse on the track, but Jag and Claw were both up to it. Jag turned his upper body as they galloped past the target, firing arrow after arrow at it until it was out of range.

Then he sank back into the saddle and seized the reigns, slowing Claw to a canter and turning back the way they’d come.

Seven arrows stuck out of the straw target. Six of them clustered in the middle, but one had hit halfway between the rim and the centre. Jag frowned slightly as he pulled it free. Seven was a good amount to manage in the short time he had in range of the target at full gallop, but he’d wavered on the third shot. That had probably cost him that bit of accuracy.

Claw snorted, and Jag reached up to pat the horse’s forehead. “You did well,” he said. “That was my fault, not yours. Nice work. Let’s try it again, a?”

The sound of hooves made him turn, and the sight of his brother made him smile. Cem slid off the horse before it had come to a stop, landing easily and grinning at Jag. “Knew I’d find you here.”

“Did you?”

“Where else would you hide from the fuss? You don’t fit in the cupboard anymore.”

Jag almost rolled his eyes. “That was only once.”

Cem only shrugged, still grinning. “Another reason why I knew you’d be here instead.”

Jag only shook his head. A year younger than Cherith, Cem was the only Fel boy who hadn’t inherited their fathers jet black hair. His was sandy blond, a little darker than Wynssa’s, and his looks favoured his mother, too. But as different as they were in looks, Jag could see a lot of similarities between him and his little brother. Their love of riding was one; their penchant for adventure and occasional recklessness, only overruled by their sense of duty, was another.

Although Jag was quite sure that he had made a little more progress on the duty front than Cem had.

He gestured at the target. “Want to join me?”

“Actually, no.” Cem patted his horse, who stood quietly beside him. “I was just taking Starflare out to stretch her legs. I need to get back, otherwise Mom will chase me down and drag me in for my fitting. You’ve got yours done, right?”

“Of course.” Syal had insisted on new uniforms for him and Cem for this ball, but Cem’s illness had delayed his a little.

Jag stowed his arrows back into the quiver, and mounted Claw. “I’ll head back with you and join the guards.”

“They’re not sparring today.” Cem vaulted onto Starflare’s back, falling in beside Jag as they headed back the way Jag had come. “All on duty or parade for the ball, remember?”

“Well, maybe Chak—”

“Will be busy reassuring Arielle that Mom is not about to breathe fire at her if she has a hair out of place?”

Jag glanced at his brother. That was one difference between them, he thought: Cem was a lot better at noticing personal things like that. “I suppose the same goes for Davin?”

Cem rolled his eyes. “Come on, Jag, it’s your birthday! Take a break. You’ve been practicing far too much anyway.”

Jag thought back to the third arrow. “There’s no such thing as too much practice.”

“Don’t you think you’re overdoing it? You know, just a little? There’s other things to life than fighting practice, you know.”

“Wisdom from my little brother,” Jag teased. “Who’d have thought that?”

Cem only shook his head. “It’s no wonder that Mom’s resorting to this ball to get you to meet girls. You’d be married to Claw and your bow otherwise.”

“I think that’s impossible and illegal in at least six different ways.”

“You know what I mean.”

Jag nodded. “I know why you’re making a fuss now. You’re upset that you have to attend a ball in a brand-new uniform, and you think if I find a girl, it will solve that problem.”

Cem pretended to be outraged at the very idea of it, but then he grinned. “That too.”

“I thought so. However, you forget one important thing.” Jag waited a moment, mostly for dramatic effect. “If I find a girl, you’re next in line.”

That gave Cem pause, and he scowled. Jag smiled, and spurred his horse on toward the castle.

* * *​

Anakin pushed the door open hesitantly, resigned himself to his fate, and stepped out into the main room of Lando Calrissian’s inn, which was all but deserted at this hour. “Well?”

From the table, Lando and Tendra Calrissian gave him almost identical appraising looks.

Tendra smiled. “See, I told you it would fit. Very nice.”

“You look the part,” Lando agreed.

Anakin looked down at himself and tugged at the collar of his tunic. When Lando had told him about the job, he’d been happy to get it, happy enough that he hadn’t even paid attention to the part where he had to wear a uniform. Now that he was wearing it, it suddenly demanded a lot more attention, and he was noticeably less happy about it all.

“Don’t fidget,” Lando went on. “That spoils the whole thing. Come on, stand up straight. If you’re gonna wear a uniform, you gotta wear it properly. Straight and smooth.”

“I’m not smooth,” Anakin said, giving the collar one last tug.

“No kidding,” Lando said. “You look like your father. He never did figure that one out either.”

Tendra stepped forward, wielding a comb. “Here, I’ll fix up your hair.” She paused, then gestured towards one of the benches. “Sit. I can’t reach anything otherwise. Will you ever stop growing?”

Anakin grinned and complied. “Maybe. After Jacen does.”

Lando smiled, flashing even white teeth. “Still determined to catch up with him?”

“I’ve caught him,” Anakin said. “But I’m gonna beat him.”

Tendra went to work with the comb and, after a few minutes, a pair of scissors. When she declared the job finished and finally led him to a mirror, Anakin had to admit to being impressed. His unruly mop of dark hair looked under control for once, and the simple grey and black driver’s uniform made him look like a completely different man. He actually looked respectable, which had to be a first.

It didn’t mean he liked it. The collar was too stiff, and the pants were tight enough to feel like they’d start chafing at any moment.

“Lookin’ good,” Lando said from behind him.

“Right,” Anakin said.

Apparently, he looked none too happy, because Lando laughed and clapped him on the back. “Come on, cheer up. Got you a job, remember? And a uniform always impresses the ladies.”

“Great,” Anakin said, without much enthusiasm. Jacen might have been happy about that kind of thing, but Anakin had never really felt the need to impress a girl.

Well, almost never. A traitorous memory flashed and reminded him of wide green eyes and the feeling that they followed him as he climbed onto the posh carriage. If he’d been capable of a little more thought at the time, and if the way from his brain to his mouth wasn’t so very long, he would have tried to make that encounter a little more impressive.

He chased that memory away. If he dwelled on it, he’d only start trying to figure out whether and how he knew her, and he’d already spent enough time doing that. He didn’t understand any of it, and he couldn’t seem to figure it out, either.

Another first.

“Cheer up, kid,” Lando told him, bringing him back to the present. “You should get going.”

“Yeah,” Anakin said. “Thanks.” He cast one last doubtful look in the mirror and turned towards the door. “See you.”

“Bye, Anakin,” Tendra said.

“Good luck,” Lando added.

Anakin waved, and left the inn. At first, the uniform made him conscious of his movements and he walked stiffly, his back feeling like he’d inserted a rod in there to keep his spine straight. The fabric seemed to soften with movement, though, or maybe he just got used to it. By the time he reached the street where Bornan Thul lived, he was back to his usual swagger.

He sauntered up to the Thul house, an impressive three-storey building. The bottom storey was mostly shop and storage, but it had enough space for an ornate front door to the left side. Anakin knew better than to use it; instead, he found his way around the house to the back door. He knocked and stepped back respectfully.

A servant in the colourful Thul livery opened it and did her best to stare down at him from her vantage point a step above him. Even with that advantage, she was barely at eye level with him.

“Yes?”

“Hello. I’m Solo. The driver,” Anakin said, doing his best to look the part as the uniform made itself noticed again.

“Right.” She gave him a quick once-over and sniffed, unimpressed. “Wait here.”

She left him outside for a good five minutes before returning with a piece of parchment, which she thrust at him. He glanced at it, half-afraid that he’d find a sketch of his face staring back at him, but all he found was a scrawled message with the Thul seal.

“The carriage is in the stables on Mercer Street. You know where that is?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re to have it outside the front door at a quarter to three. Don’t be late. Any questions?”

He had a few, in fact, but he decided that the stable lads would tell him what he needed to know, and that the one about whether her face was always that pinched or whether she was making an effort for him was best left until after he’d finished this job, and been paid for it.

“No,” he said. “I’ll be back at a quarter to three.”

“Don’t be late,” she said again.

Jacen would have had a glib remark about hurrying just for the chance to see her again, but Anakin had never been half as quick with words as his brother. “Is that a double negative?” he asked instead, and had the satisfaction of seeing her brows pull together in confusion rather than a glare this time.

“What?”

He flashed her a lopsided grin. “Guess not. See you at quarter to three.” He waved and left, whistling tunelessly.

The stables were loud, messy, and a lot more friendly than the Thul house. The stable master examined his letter and nodded, and one of the lads showed him the Thul carriage. It was a solid, well-built affair, with reinforced axles and sturdy wheels and only a small amount of decorative carvings and paint.

Two horses pulled it, and Anakin spent some time getting acquainted with both of them while he and the stable lad readied the tack. He didn’t have Jacen’s natural bond with animals, but he knew his way around driving and riding better than most.

He drew up before the Thul house just as the village clock ticked onto fifteen minutes to three, and smiled to himself.

He had to wait a few minutes before the door opened and the Thul family stepped out. They were dressed in their usual bright colours, but Anakin thought that the clothes looked more elaborate than usual.

When Raynar Thul, the merchants’ only son, caught sight of him, he stopped. “Anakin Solo?”

Anakin resisted the urge to wave at him cheerfully. The Thuls ran the biggest store in Dale and its surrounding area—at least, if you only counted official, legal dealings—so he knew them all, but he’d dealt more with Raynar than with his parents Aryn and Bornan.

Raynar didn’t look very pleased to see him. “Why him, Father?”

“I didn’t hire him, I entrusted that to Fariel,” Bornan said. “Now come on, we’re already late.”

Raynar sighed. “Well, I hope we’ll get there in one piece.”

“You mean three pieces, right?” Anakin said, unable to help himself. “Seven, if you count the carriage and the horses and—”

Bornan surprised him by laughing. “Yes indeed, young man. You do know where you’re going?”

“Yessir. Straight to Nirauan Castle. Been there before,” he added, trying not to sound too defensive.

“Excellent. Now, we want to be there by half six, so we’d better get going, what?”

“Yessir.”

Bornan helped Aryn into the carriage, and Raynar followed his parents with one last glance at Anakin. It tried to be haughty, but Anakin didn’t take it personally. Jacen had explained Raynar to him a while ago. The arrogance was just a shield to mask his insecurities.

And Anakin could remember how a fourteen-year-old Jacen had poked at those insecurities, once Jaina had made them apparent by trying to be nice to the boy and, Raynar being shy and Jaina being pretty, making him stutter. Apparently, Raynar still remembered it too.

Anakin wondered briefly how the blond young man would fare at the ball if he hadn’t gotten over his tendency to blush when confronted with a pretty girl, but the mocking thought did not last long. His uncle Luke was big on honesty, especially to oneself, and Anakin himself wasn’t exactly a Lando Calrissian when it came to girls.

He shook all thoughts of the ball away, and gave the reigns a small flick. It didn’t matter; he didn’t have to be a Calrissian. He was just the driver.

The horses’ hooves clattered over the cobblestones towards Nirauan Castle, and Anakin lounged back as much as he could to enjoy the trip.

 

Jag and Cem - liked the brotherly teasing. Anakin - despite his discomfort with the uniform seems to be carrying out his duties admirably. But Jaina and Jacen on a harmless mushroom-picking that won't have them home by sundown? Uh-oh.

 

great update more soon

 

Ah yes…the awkward 'man hug'! In all fairness: our generation has actually gotten LOADS better with those; you should've seen my Dad and Grandfather give each other a hug…they both looked like they'd rather wrestle a crocodile!

Ri-ight--mushroom picking in the forest right before dark--what could possibly go wrong?

Hmmm…today's role of Arya Stark is now played by Jagged Fel! Just kidding…to me, archery is like what Obi-Wan said about the lightsabre; '…an elegant weapon for a more…civilized…time.'

Yep, Anakin, we guys always say we '…never felt the need to impress a girl…' until we meet THE girl!

Fun stuff Iverna! Happy Christmas!

 

I hope everyone had a great Christmas! And thanks for all your comments, they really make my day. Things are gaining momentum! Of course nothing could possibly go wrong here. Nope. No way. And I looove the idea of Jag as Arya Stark. Although I'm not sure who Jaina would be in that case.
Anyway, onto the next part...

* * *​

The day of the ball had arrived in a flurry of excitement and giggles. Alema and Numa fluttered around the boudoir, studying their reflections, twirling for Callista, and trying on various necklaces, bracelets, and other accessories.

Numa gave Tahiri a smile that actually showed genuine pleasure when she came in. “What do you think?”

The dresses were very similar, both of them made in the current fashion with long sleeves that were puffed at the shoulders and long, elegantly sweeping skirts. Numa’s bodice was laced up the middle and ended in a shorter overskirt, which fell like curtains to both sides. Alema’s had a wide centre panel, lined with delicate embroidery, the lines of which continued down into the heavy skirt. Her dress was held in tones of dark and pale turquoise, while Numa’s was a deep red that set off her pale blue skin.

“You look beautiful,” Tahiri had to admit, fighting down that small, nasty voice inside that whispered about how it would have been a lot easier if they’d been ugly. As it was, she always felt like a little grey mouse standing next to two silky smooth, elegant cats.

Numa giggled. “Thank you. Oh, I can’t wait!”

Tahiri smiled despite herself. Numa’s excitement was palpable, and it was infectious. “I hope you have lots of fun.”

“Oh, we will,” said Alema. “We’ll tell you all about it when we get back. I can’t wait to see if the prince is as handsome as they say, and to tell you how many times we danced with him.”

“Don’t you wish you were going?” asked Callista, seeming genuinely curious at Tahiri’s lack of jealousy. She, too, was ready for the ball, beautiful in an emerald-green dress with matching gems at her throat.

Tahiri shrugged, trying to be diplomatic. “It’s not really my kind of thing.”

“You don’t want a pretty dress, a dance with the prince, nothing?”

Tahiri couldn’t help smiling. The idea held the tiniest bit of appeal, but not nearly as much as almost a whole day without Callista and the twins around. She could do her chores in peace, check in on Kam, and spend the entire evening down in the kitchen with Nomi - all without any nagging. “I doubt he’d even notice me. Besides, I have work to do.”

For the briefest moment, Callista looked put out. Tahiri had noticed that her stepmother seemed to have trouble understanding why she rarely showed any jealousy of Alema and Numa.

“Very well,” said Callista. “Girls, are we ready to go?”

“Yes, Mother,” the twins chorused.

Callista nodded and turned back to Tahiri. “Now, don’t forget your chores. You have to clean the fire place in here, wash the floor in Alema’s room, make the beds, and don’t forget to bring in more firewood for the kitchen. We shan’t be back until after midnight, so I expect you out of the way in bed, understand?”

“Yes, Mother.” Tahiri had already done half of her chores, but Callista didn’t need to know that. “Have a good evening.”

“Bye, Tahiri!” Alema sang as she sashayed out the door, closely followed by Numa.

She watched them leave. Alema’s and Numa’s giggles sounded through the corridors, high-pitched and excited. Tahiri listened until she heard the heavy front door open, then slam shut. She waited for another few seconds, then she hurried out of the boudoir and along the corridors until she reached a window overlooking the yard. The carriage had pulled up below, and Callista was just climbing in after her daughters. As Tahiri watched, the driver clucked his tongue and tugged at the reins, and the carriage began to roll towards the gate.

Tahiri waited until she could no longer see it trundling along the road that led away from the castle, then she skipped back into the boudoir and got to work on the fireplace. She cleaned it out with quick, practiced movements, scooped the ashes into a bucket, and trudged down the stairs into the yard to empty it.

When she stepped through the back door, she stopped. Something felt odd. Not wrong, exactly, but somehow weird, different. She looked around, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. The sun was beginning to set in the autumn sky, tinting the clouds pink and orange. The air was cold and still.

Tahiri shook off the feeling and turned her attention to the wood stack beside the stables. When she’d gathered up the firewood for the kitchen, she hesitated. She hated carrying firewood; it was heavy, and the carrier always knocked into her somewhere, leaving bruises. And Callista wasn’t home now.

Her stepmother used magic often and openly, as did Alema and Numa, but Tahiri always held back. Using magic around Callista made her uncomfortable. Getting in trouble would have been fine, but Callista always just watched with that glint in her eyes, as if waiting for something. It felt like she was doing something wrong, even when she had permission.

Tahiri shook those thoughts away. There was no one to watch now.

Magic still gave her trouble, mostly because she rarely had a chance to practice. But lifting spells were easy. It worked on the first try this time, and the full carrier rose into the air, light as a feather. She directed more than carried it towards the back door of the kitchen.

Nomi was there, sitting at the heavy bench where the servants ate their meals. She was alone, and Tahiri did a double-take when she realised that she wasn’t eating, either. She just sat there, watching as Tahiri deposited the firewood beside the stove.

“Thank you,” said Nomi behind her, and Tahiri heard the rustle of fabric as the woman stood.

She turned, and her breath caught in her throat.

The woman who stood before her looked out of place in the homey kitchen. She wore Nomi’s clothes, but she looked much younger. Her features were delicate and refined, beautiful and full of wisdom. Her long silver hair flowed open around her shoulders and down her back.

She looked at Tahiri with eyes of an odd silvery colour that seemed to shimmer with more than just normal moisture, and smiled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The voice was different, too, richer and softer, but after the initial shock, Tahiri could see the familiar kindness in her expression. “Nomi?”

“Yes. Or rather, that’s the name I’ve been using. My real name is Tionne.”

“Tionne?” Tahiri shook her head. “Why? What’s going on? Who are you?”

“I’m sorry for the deception, Tahiri, but it was the only way.” Tionne gestured to the bench. “Please, let’s sit. I have a lot to tell you.”

“I’ll bet,” said Tahiri, but she sat down obediently. Tionne pulled up a chair, moving with a grace that Nomi had lacked.

“I’ll start at the start,” said Tionne. “My name, as I said, is Tionne Solusar. I am - I was - a Jedi mage. I came here with a man called Luke Skywalker, to train as a Jedi.”

Tahiri wanted to say something, but she held back. A Jedi. That explained a lot.

“There were others here with me,” Tionne went on. “One was a young man named Kyp Durron. I shall keep this short, but suffice to say, he came under the influence of an evil Sith spirit, and fell to the Dark Side. He attacked Master Skywalker, and sent his body into a coma, while his spirit roamed around Yavin, unable to return. While he was trapped in the spirit world, he met another spirit, the ghost of a dead Jedi mage named Callista.”

Tahiri caught her breath. “Call—” She cut herself short. “Go on.”

Tionne smiled briefly, before her eyes seemed to gaze back into her memories. “She helped him return to his body,” Tionne said. “But in the meantime, Kyp’s mistake had brought a lot of trouble upon us. We lost a few people, good people. One of them was a young woman named Cray Mingla. A good friend. Her spirit was snatched, and destroyed.

“Before Cray... died, she met Callista. They came to an agreement. Cray sacrificed herself to save us, and she left her body to Callista.”

Tahiri gaped at her. “That’s not... so that’s not really Callista?”

“She no longer looks like Cray,” said Tionne, sadness tinting her smile. “Her features changed, over time. Her hair turned darker, her eyes became grey... and she was no longer able to use magic as a Jedi. She can only touch its dark side.”

“That explains a lot.”

“It’s a tragic story. She lost so much. And then she was given a second chance, only to find that she had lost even more. It broke her. She tried, for a time. We even became friends. But eventually, it broke her. It broke all of us. Callista left, Master Skywalker left, and the others scattered.

“I stayed. And so did Kam.”

“Kam?!” Tahiri felt her eyes widen. “Kam’s a Jedi?”

“Yes.” Tionne seemed to shrink, as if her memories of the past were a burden heavy enough to push her down. “A Jedi, and my husband.”

Tahiri clasped a hand over her own mouth. “What happened?” she asked from behind her fingers.

“Callista came back,” Tionne said simply. “We were unprepared. She came back, revenge in her heart, and when she didn’t find Master Skywalker here, her wrath turned to us. Kam...” She pursed her lips, looking grief-stricken. “He stood between us. Let her curse him so I could get away. But I couldn’t stay away, not with him cursed and with Callista here. I’m not the strongest Jedi, you know. I’m barely gifted enough to qualify. But Callista no longer recognises subtle magic, so I was able to disguise myself and get work here.”

Tahiri was having trouble digesting all of this. “I had no idea.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Tionne shook her head. “I didn’t want to burden you with it until I was sure you were old enough, and strong enough.”

“What’s the curse?” Tahiri asked. “Kam’s curse, I mean?”

“To be alone,” said Tionne. “He doesn’t remember who he is. He doesn’t remember me, or being a Jedi. He can’t speak to anyone, and he can’t do magic.”

“But you remember,” said Tahiri, already trying to find a solution. “Can’t you tell him? Remind him who he is?” She remembered something else. “Can’t curses be broken by true love’s kiss?”

“Not this one.” Tionne shook her head. “Callista made sure of that. I can’t reveal myself when she’s around, and I can’t risk going near Kam without my disguise. He’s under Callista’s spell. I don’t know how much she’d notice if I showed myself to him, and I can’t risk it. I can’t fight her. I’m not strong enough.”

“What about your Master Skywalker? Can’t you find him?”

Tionne hesitated. “That’s... the other thing. The last time I saw him, and the others... well, like I said, Kyp had fallen to the dark side. Callista fell to the dark side. And Master Skywalker... I’m not sure. All I know is that no one has come to look for us. None of them ever came back, except Callista. I don’t know who I can still trust. As far as I know, I’m on my own.”

“Not on your own,” said Tahiri, firmly. “I’ll help. I’ll find a way to break the curse.”

Tionne reached out and hugged her, holding her with arms that felt slender and fragile. “It should have been different. I should have been the one to adopt you from the Tuskens and teach you about magic. I should’ve been there for you. I’m sorry.”

“You were there for me,” Tahiri told her. “Remember? If it hadn’t been for you I think I would’ve gone crazy by now. And starved. Hey, don’t worry. We’ll find a way to fix it all.”

Tionne drew back, keeping her hands on Tahiri’s shoulders. She nodded. “Yes. You’re right. And you are our best hope. We can’t hope to confront Callista directly, so we’ll have to be clever, and subtle. First of all, I think it’s high time you began your training in earnest, don’t you?”

“Hell yes!” Tahiri sat up straighter. “You’ll teach me?”

“Every chance I get,” Tionne promised. She looked more optimistic now, some of the sadness gone from her features. A gleam entered her mother-of-pearl eyes. “And there’s something else I can do for you. I think you have a ball to go to.”

“A what?” Tahiri shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. I can’t go.”

“Sure you can. Don’t you want to?”

She did. She’d tried to deny it, but she really did. She’d heard Alema and Numa talk about the various balls and galas and shows they’d attended, and tried to imagine what it would be like to be the girl in the pretty dress, to dance with handsome young men who bowed and called her “milady”.

She had kept it in check, though. It would have been silly to mope about it, and Tahiri was adamant that she would not be silly.

But it was still tempting.

“I don’t have a dress.”

“You have an invitation,” said Tionne. “And as it happens, I have a dress. Come on.”

She led Tahiri into her tiny bedroom. Laid out on the bed was a dress made of dark turquoise silk, with golden trim along the waistline, cuffs, and neck. The sleeves were made of a gauzy material in matching colours, widening towards the ends. Everything glittered in the light from Tionne’s candle.

“Whoah,” said Tahiri.

Tionne set the light down and held up the dress. “Is that a yes?”

For a moment, Tahiri had the very silly notion that the dress was calling to her. It wanted her to put it on. It said, here’s your chance to be the pretty girl who danced with all the handsome men. I’m your ticket into that world.

And for a moment, she forgot that she’d decided that such thoughts were silly.

“That’s a hell yes,” said Tahiri. “No, wait. I can’t go. If they see me there, I’ll be in a world of trouble.”

“They won’t see you,” said Tionne. “Just like they never see me. Don’t worry. I won’t need to disguise myself while they’re gone, so I’ll disguise you instead. You already know how to shield yourself, magically, don’t you?”

Tahiri nodded. “Yeah, I...” She thought back. “You taught me that, didn’t you? Without seeming to. When you told me about magical talents and keeping them hidden.”

Tionne looked proud. “Yes. And you learned it well. So with your shielding and my disguise glamour, they won’t recognise you, as long as you leave by midnight. I can sustain it for that long.”

“Why can’t she see through it?” Tahiri asked. “You said she was stronger than you.”

“She is. But this is a subtle thing, and Callista forgot subtlety a long time ago. She no longer notices. You’ve seen that yourself.”

Tahiri considered that. It was true that Callista seemed blind to subtle hints and small changes. And Tionne knew what was at stake here. If she said it was all right, then it would be all right.

And the dress was still being very persuasive.

“All right,” she said. “I’d love to go.”

Tionne smiled with genuine excitement. “All right. Let’s go upstairs and get you changed.”

It felt deliciously wicked to stand in Callista’s boudoir and use Callista’s hair brushes to get ready. Or rather, hold very still while Tionne fussed around and worked her magic.

When Tahiri stared into the mirror afterwards, she barely recognised herself.

Blonde curls were swept back from a clean face, piled at the back of her head in an elaborate bun, wisps tickling down over her ears. Her dress glittered when she moved, and her feet were encased in dainty slippers, also glittering.

She wasn’t a fan of the slippers. But Tionne had clearly gone to a lot of trouble, so she held her tongue.

“You look beautiful,” said Tionne, her eyes shining.

“Thank you so much.” Tahiri hugged her, a little gingerly so as not to rumple her dress. “I don’t know how you did this, but thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do,” said Tionne. “I wanted you to have something nice. You deserve it, and so much more. Now... go on. There’s a horse out front that will take you to the ball. And remember, you need to leave by midnight.”

“Midnight,” Tahiri repeated. “Got it.”

“All right.” Tionne reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Go. Enjoy yourself. Make sure you have lots of wonderful things to tell me when you get back.”

 

Iverna! Wonderful! Great plot twist and gorgeous dress for Tahiri. Woot! Looking forward to her having fun and no one being the wiser.

 

Thanks Nyota's Heart! The ball is coming up next!

 

Oh, I like Tionne as a fairy godmother! That just fits.

 

Was anyone besides me humming 'Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo'?

Happy New Year, Iverna!

 

wonderful update

more soon?

 

Heh, glad you guys approve of Tionne as Tahiri's fairy godmother. And thanks, SiouxFan, you too! Actually, happy new year to everyone reading this!

New post will be up shortly!

 

I'm switching to tagging instead of PMs because it's easier... if you want to be tagged, say the word! Ceillean, Nyota's Heart, taramidala, windu4
And now on with the show!

* * *​

The twins left their own homestead behind and walked along a narrow country lane bordered by thick hedgerows, the kind of lane where milkmaids met young noble men on a lovely morning in spring. Currently, there were no noblemen in sight, only puddles, which was all for the better as far as Jaina was concerned.

There were no fields this close to Myrkr, only overgrown meadows with a few lonely trees who hadn’t quite made it into the forest. In summer, Jaina and her brothers often went berry-picking here, usually with the Skywalker kids in tow. Summer was over now, and there were no berries, but mushrooms usually grew aplenty in the long grass.

But today, they found nothing edible.

“Weird,” Jacen commented. “We haven’t been here in weeks. There should be something here.”

“Maybe someone else went picking,” Jaina said.

“You mean one of our many neighbours?”

Jaina made a face, because he had a point. Not many people lived out here. Most had better sense than to live on the edge of the enchanted forest. There was a reason why Han Solo had chosen this place as a home, during his smuggling days.

Jaina jumped over a puddle on the ground and came around another bend in the lane. A figure shambled along it towards her, carrying a basket. When she drew closer, she saw that it was an old woman, dressed in ragged clothes. The hands clutching the basket were lined and spotted with age.

“Good morning,” Jacen said cheerfully.

The woman looked at them, and her face stretched into a smile. Her eyes were an odd colour; for a moment, Jaina thought they glinted yellow, but that was probably a trick of the light. “Good morning,” she said. Her accent was strange, too, not local. “Out to do a little picking, are you?”

Jaina nodded.

The woman gestured along the lane behind her. “Anything back there?”

“Nope,” Jaina said. “No luck so far.”

“Oh. Well, that’s strange,” the woman said. “I’ve found nothing either.”

Jaina and Jacen exchanged a glance. If it was true, this was going to throw a big wrench in the wheels.

“The only place where I found anything was the forest,” the old woman went on, pointing at her basket. Jaina looked. Mushrooms covered the bottom of the basket, smelling of earth and wet grass. “I might as well head back there, I suppose, before I go home.”

“The forest?” Jaina looked at Jacen again. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Oh, if you believe the stories, sure,” the old woman said, chuckling. It was a pleasant sound which seemed light up her eyes and take years off her. Jaina found herself smiling in response. “But I’ve never had any trouble, and I’ve been going there all my life. As long as you don’t cross the stream, it’s your garden, yours for the planting and reaping.”

Jaina knew that much, even if she wouldn’t have phrased it that way. The stream ran along the northern edge of this part of the forest, and marked the real boundary to Myrkr.

“Maybe we should try that,” Jacen said.

“I don’t know.” Jaina pursed her lips. “We told Mom...”

“We told her we’d go find food.” Jacen hefted his empty basket.

“Well, you won’t be finding any around here,” the woman said, pointing the way she’d come. “But you can take mine, if you want. I’ll be heading back to the forest to find more.”

“We couldn’t,” Jacen said even as Jaina started to shake her head. “But thanks for the offer.” He eyed the lane with its uneven ground. “Hey, how far do you have to go home? We have a cart back home. We could give you a lift if you’ll wait.”

“Oh, it’s not far,” she assured him with a smile. “Not far at all. But you’re a kind young man to think of it.”

Jacen nodded. “If you’re sure.”

He looked back at Jaina, and she knew what he was thinking. The forest posed a risk, but neither of them wanted to return home with empty hands and see that smile on their mother’s face, the one which always masked her sadness at living the way they did.

After another moment, Jaina heaved a sigh and gave her brother a wry smile. “The forest, huh?”

The woman chuckled. “A pair of strong younguns like yourselves hardly have anything to fear from a few trees.”

Jacen laughed. “Guess not. Thanks, uh...”

“Elan,” the woman said softly. “And you are?”

“This is Jaina, and I’m Jacen,” Jacen said with perfect manners.

“Lovely names both,” Elan said. “Well, it’s been a pleasure to meet you, but I think you’d better hurry and get that food for your mother, hadn’t you? Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Jacen said.

“You too,” Jaina added.

With a final smile and wave, they turned back the way they’d come, heading for one of the fields which would lead them directly into the forest.

* * *​

It was a good day for a trip to the forest: cold, but sunny and warm enough that Jacen and Jaina both took off their cloaks after less than an hour of walking. The forest closed around them in its inimitable way, leaves and branches and twigs blocking out the light. It was easy to believe that it was enchanted, but for once, Jacen was unconcerned. Their mother would worry if she knew, but that was what mothers did.

Elan had been right. Mushrooms aplenty grew in small glades and in the moist shade of fallen trees. Not all were edible, a few were poisonous, but a quick spell always revealed the dangers. And there were always roots.

They’d been picking and digging for less than an hour, just emerging from a small glade back onto the path, when Jacen looked along the path and frowned.

“Did we get turned around?”

Jaina shook her head. “No, this is the path, remember? We just went off over there and then back here.”

“Except that can’t be right. We were walking almost exactly south. So either we left the path more than five hours ago, or we’re heading north now. See? The sun’s wrong.”

The sun wasn’t actually visible from where they stood, but its light was, and the shadows were coming from the other side now. Jaina scowled at them.

“Well… maybe we did get turned around.” She sounded uncertain.

“Yeah. Except that there’s only one path, and unless we somehow crossed it...”

“Maybe we did,” Jaina said. “We definitely haven’t been in here that long. And it doesn’t look like afternoon sunlight to me.”

Jacen hesitated. “Maybe we should head back.”

“You know which way is back?”

“Good point.” Jacen glanced along the path in both directions. Usually, he was pretty good with directions and orientation, but this time, it seemed his sense had failed him.

Jaina muttered a spell, holding a small twig in her hand. When Jacen recognised the words, he frowned. “Hey!”

She broke off, glaring at him. “Nuh-uh. I’m not getting stuck in here because of your male ego. I’m getting directions for home.”

He flung up his hands, relieved that at least he didn’t have to do it. “Fine.”

She said it through to the end this time and flung the twig to the ground. It landed on the path, diagonal to its course, neatly pointing at what Jacen supposed must have been east - or west, if they had gotten turned around. Either way, it wasn’t pointing home.

Annoyed, Jaina picked it up and said the spell again. This time, the twig stuck in the muddy path, pointing upwards and towards her.

“What the—”

She tried again. After that, Jacen’s own curiosity overcame his ego and he tried it, too. The twig wasn’t any more helpful during those attempts either. They tried a different twig, to no avail.

“We should just head back,” Jacen said. “Straight back. I know we walked south, and the sun can’t move around the sky randomly, so now we’ll head north. All we have to do is keep the sun at our backs.”

The sun didn’t stay at their backs. Nothing really did, it seemed. They walked towards what Jacen assumed was north, but sometimes the sun shone from the left, sometimes the right. When they glanced back the way they’d come, they saw trees and bushes they couldn’t remember passing, and the path seemed to curve and wind through the forest even though it always looked straight before them.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Jacen said eventually. “We should be out by now. At least we should be somewhere we recognise.”

“Yeah.” Jaina cast a worried glance at the sun, which was still out of sight but seemed to be on their right at the moment. “And it’ll be getting dark soon.”

Jacen caught hold of her hand. Sensing her about to protest, he shook his head and said, “We stay together, yeah?”

He saw her swallow, the fear pushing at her throat mirroring his own. “Yeah.”

* * *​

Jag stood on the raised dais between the two thrones, overlooking the ballroom. The guests were arriving in the usual family groups, each lord and lady announced by name and title along with their unmarried or untitled children. Jag smiled, shook the men’s hands and kisses the ladies’, most of his mind elsewhere. He’d long ago learned that these occasions didn’t actually take all that much attention to get through, so he was currently going over his last sword lesson in his mind.

“Lady Callista Ming of Yavin, with her daughters, Miss Alema and Miss Numa.”

Jag absently kissed Lady Callista’s hand, then moved on to her daughters in turn.

“A pleasure to finally meet you, your Highness,” the first one - Alema? - said. Her voice seemed to tug at his mind. Jag’s mind returned from pondering Stent’s assessment of his footwork, and he actually looked at the girl. She was elvish, that much he could see right away. The twin braids draped over her shoulders under an elaborate hairdo marked her as one of the Twi’lek clan. Her skin was light blue, and her smile was nothing short of seductive.

Jag swallowed. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss. Welcome.”

She shot him a last smouldering look before her sister all but crowded her out of the way. They were twins, Jag realised when Numa gave him a precise replica of Alema’s saucy smile. And apparently adopted, he added mentally when he remembered—rather belatedly—that Lady Callista was as human as he was.

“Your Highness.” Numa looked down coyly before flashing him a blaze of a look beneath her half-lowered eyelashes. “I, uhm, that is, I...”

Her stuttering was unexpectedly cute, and made him smile. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath and gave him an apologetic smile. “I’ve heard the stories, of course, but you’re even more handsome than they say.”

He could feel his cheeks warming and tried desperately to direct his thoughts back towards Stent’s criticism of his footwork. He’d heard the same compliment, in variation, from almost every lady he’d greeted tonight. There was no reason to get all worked up over this one. “You flatter me, Miss.” Inspiration flashed, and he smiled as he felt his blush give in and creep back under his shirt. “But you shouldn’t put much store in stories. I haven’t heard any about you, for example, but I’m quite sure that it’s because they could not hope to do you justice.”

It was so sugary that he almost cringed while he said it, but now it was Numa’s turn to blush as her smile grew brighter. “Your Highness is too kind.”

“And I hope you will be kind in return,” Jag said smoothly. “Will you save me a dance, Miss Numa?”

She couldn’t agree fast and emphatically enough, and sashayed off to follow her mother and sister.

“That was very good,” Syal said under her breath while they waited for the next guest to approach. “I’m impressed.”

“She’s pretty, too,” Davin said. He was standing on Syal’s other side, the better to listen in on Jag and his guests. “An exotic beauty.”

Jag grunted something before turning to his next guest, a minor nobleman from Alderaan, hoping that his brothers had been too distracted by the twins to notice Jag’s uncharacteristic lapse in control. With Cem, it was a safe bet, but Davin and Chak were newly married and in love, and regrettably immune to pretty girls. Still, there was a chance.

He made it through the rest of the introductions without incident, and then he led the entire room in to dinner with Cherith on his arm.

 

LOL! Enjoyed Jag's reactions Whew! Jaina and Jacen are in a really weird forest. How are they ever gonna get out again? And I did catch the classic bad-feeling line

 

I was half-expecting Elan to offer Jaina an apple! I SO need to learn the 'find home' spell…the iPhone's directions are a bit of a disappointment.

Lesson for the day: NEVER listen to directions from an old woman! (Ducks as Grandmother throws shoe…)