Beyond - Legends Legends of the Force, Book 2: "Cauldron-born", 26 Chapters (OCs)

@earlybird-obi-wan, @WarmNyota_SweetAyesha, @DarthUncle, @Kahara & @Darth_Furio here a quick update before I fall on my keyboard:


(Still Chapter 6)

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“When was the last time you ate something decent, milady?” Vicomte Ankoù inquires, while the heat of his body shoots directly into mine.

I felt a movement in the Force and a blanket wrapping itself around me, gently and careful.

Of course he is a Force healer and a powerful one.

In the meantime he repeats his question to me, his gaze never leaving my face. His eyes remind me of the winter mountains that Draíocht and her family live in.

“Two nights ago,” I answer with some hesitation, not sure whether he is really friend or more foe. All I get from him are conflicting feelings. “Business was not running very successfully. I was not able to pay my fees to... my guardian.”

In silence, Viscount Ankoù squeezes my hand. There is pity, but he also hates me for my Tjiehenet heritage. He makes no effort to disguise it. Then he goes on, “This guardian of yours, milady, what is his name?”

My chance to save the children, but I must not seem to eager.

“I am not allowed to...”

My voice gives up once more when we reach the main road. I am at the brink of a total collapse. This is a cruel twist of fate.

Ruadhan Ahearne stands there, waiting for us. I would have known the man who fathered me among a thousand foreigners.

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The infamous reiver and outlaw looks like an exact duplicate of his father, Taran Cù Sìth. He has the same straw blond hair, an equally dense beard, yet his clothing is less ragged. There are also some ugly scars as if something had wanted him dead a long time ago.

“Milady”, Vicomte Ankoù speaks even milder than before, “I will find this man and the rest of his organization anyway. They can neither hide from me nor from the law. I will bring them down one by one if necessary. Your help would be very much appreciated though.”

I still envision Taran Cù Sìth in the snow, stretched out in front of me. It had not been in my nature to let my grandfather die. My good deed has brought me here. The werewolf would be agitated. Not as agitated as his only surviving child tough. I must remain quiet.

Vicomte Ankoù squeezes my hand once more. He seems to wait for something.

The name. The name of the man who has brought the children and me to this planet. It slowly surfaces. “Jonc.”

“This is not a local name. An inhabitant of Fort du Montagnes, I presume? Well, he is a long way from home then. He will find out soon enough that I do not tolerate crime in this city.”

The children will be saved and this is all that matters now. But I am too overtaxed, too frightened to enjoy the fact that all is well.

I give Vicomte Ankoù the best smile that I can manage right now. Nervously, I allow him to lift me onto his steed, a black eopie with gentle eyes.

Ruadhan Ahearne just gives me a friendly nod, not recognizing me at all. His real daughter has been crushed by the dark side; maybe his brain refuses to recognise my face and voice.

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Nobody utters a word until we reach Ostal Blanc, also known as the House of Healing. I have too many things going on in my mind. Too many choices to consider.

It is the voice of Vicomte Ankoù that brings me back into the present. “You will join us inside, Isabeau.”

I look at the teenage girl that Vicomte Ankoù just has addressed sternly. Her clothing is noble and she holds herself with the arrogance of aristocracy. I reckon her to be around fourteen sun years old. She is Lidérc half-blood. As a female she is not obliged to mask her face. Her features have the terrible beauty of a dagger, symmetrical and sharp.

“Minou!” my saviour calls out, startling me. “What a pleasure to see you! It has been a while.”

He lets go of the reins of his steed. In a fluid movement he kneels down in front of an elderly woman, also a half-blood. She radiates friendliness and serenity. The metal lips of his war mask touch her feet with respect and unhidden affection.

“Indeed,” she answers him. “The more my heart is enlightened to bid you welcome in my humble homestead. You look stressed.”

To my astonishment I find this to be true. The aura of Vicomte Ankoù displays his mental state in rather colourful ways. I am almost ashamed to notice this. It is like seeing him naked.

“And you want to change that with olive soap and water?” he replies with delightful laughter. I could listen for hours to that laughter.

“It would be a challenge indeed, my dear boy.” The crone claps her wrinkled hands together. “I accept it.”

Just like that, Vicomte Ankoù is gone.

Uncertain, I remain on top of the eopie. I am too weak to jump down, worried the wooden leg will break.

I should have mentioned the children. Asked him to have them brought back to their families. Why did I fail them? I am a dreadful person.

As if the animal knows about my slight distress it sinks down on its massive knees and gives me a friendly snort.

Ruadhan Ahearne is at my side in no time, lifting me out of my saddle as if I am but a light feather for him. “I think our noble host is too busy with his old acquaintance. And judging by how badly the old lass walks, she needs his strong arm supporting her.”

I try not to jump away from him. Sooner or later I have to tell him about the genes that we share so intimately. I can only hope that he will take the experiments of Aunt Arcānā lightly. “You are all so kind to me,” I pipe up. “I do not think I deserve so much kindness.”

“I wonder why that might be.”

“Dubh sith!” A large shadow has popped up next to my elbow, making me yelp like a scared animal. Dark Elf.

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(To be continued!)

 

Wow! Sionnach's encounter with the Vicomte is full of undercurrents and I am glad the children are safe.

 

a quick update before I fall on my keyboard:
That tired?
And Sionnach meeting Lucien; will that be bad?

 

Indeed, lots of currents and undercurrents - it's interesting because we know more about Ankou, and have read the rest of the life of this young girl Isabeau, and even saw bits of a future Sionnach there too, but we don't actually know anything about what leads from here to there in her life.

Indeed. I guess Sionnach never yet had to think deeply and intimately about all the implications of her heritage, and the way she came about, because Taran was a whole different matter, and in the end to him all that mattered was that she's a descendant, and not an enemy - for his son that might well be quite different. And Ankou 'Lucien' with the hate for the Tjiehenet bits he can feel/see in her, but at the same time the urge to do right; I guess that's exactly what he shared with Ahearn though, given the history he seems to have with the Tjiehenet family: love and hate, and a question of moral, with his father around too.

Glad the children at least will be find (they will, I am sure); and that Sionnach is now in hands that know how to best help her deal with her pregnancy, and make sure she gets caring attention. Interesting that she's attracted to Lucien's voice, and feels a certain bond to him through the force experiences that she can see from him; bet he isn't used to that!

 

@DarthUncle: Thanks for doing so much in this flat while my foot is resting and hopefully healing for next week. With 4 new kids way under 1 year of age that I need to take care of at work there is no chance for me staying at home. You are my hero for getting the crutches from the cellar, helping me with the special "sock" and writing fanfic feedback like this. Without you this story would not have changed for the better. A pity that Pants does not even glimpse at it any more. Ah well, it has Lucien in it.

You are so right with your analysis. I am always proud when you discover the core of everything and point your findings out so eloquently.


@earlybird-obi-wan: The start of this kindergarten year weighs not only heavy on my department, but the entire team. The unexpected death of a dear colleague, the virus infection, the lack of staff due to it, all my new kids (mostly babies) now my left foot not functioning well and me being in pain because of it. Of course I am tired.


@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: I am glad to not only count you among my readers, but among the beta-edit team as well.


(Still Chapter 6!)

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A dubh sith is a sort of magic user who is as bad as a druid or priestess that serves Darach. In my eyes the only difference is that a Dark Elf does not pretend to serve the light. Or the White Elfin Goddess.

The hands of this particular individual dive forward and find the source of their annoyance. Me.

“And you, lassie, have gone astray, too. I may be an outcast, but you... you are one of Dealg's followers.”

He fishes for my phoenix amulet in my corset and drags it out. I do nothing to stop him. His fingers are as cold as ice.

“The Order of the beanmna feasa doesn't discriminate between the two of us”, the dark sorcerer rambles on, “We both turned away from the common truth. And I am not the one offering my body to flea infected cat demons.”

At this point I allow myself to give in to a nervous breakdown. I cannot stop crying.

I unleash rivers for the persons whom I had found and lost in my life. Some through death, some by fate.

Granny.

The household staff of Dún Mor-Shiabh.

Malm.

Draíocht and her children.

“Oh, so you already bumped into the Holy Inquisition,” the dubh sith comments dryly. “That makes me wonder why you are still alive, in contrast to the other heretics that share the Force theory.”

I am too tired and worn out to argue back. The child in my womb weighs as heavy as all my losses together. Of late I have done a lot of running, trying to escape the dark alliances that are keen on devouring me. In the end I have achieved nothing. I even lost my leg. And I am so far away from the planet I call home.

My tears drip down into the sand.

There is a movement next to me.

My father comes to the rescue. Or better to say the very man who shares some of his genes with me.

“Temnén! In the Name of the Goddess!” Ruadhan Ahearne's aura is a mixture of orange and crimson. “Give it a rest, will you! Sionnach looks has if she has been through a lot already. Do not startle her any further! Think of the child she carries!”

“As you wish!”

The Dark Elf sounds like being eager to kill me slowly and painfully.

“It's okay!” My voice is soaked in tears still, while my throat seems even dryer than before. “I ended here on this cursed dust ball because of Her Holiness Mórag MagUhidir.”

It is a true and short summation of the situation that I am in.

Pity fills the eyes of the two Elfin men.

“Milady?”

I come to realize that Ruadhan Ahearne is not speaking to me, but to the young Lidérc aristocrat. She is still with us, watching us from cold and narrow eyes.

“Yes?” the girl purrs and it is a dangerous sound.

“May we go inside now? The young lady is ill, my soul brother could use some rest, I am half starved and you must feel rather tired after all the recent events.”

The marquise agrees to the offer after some well considered heart beats. “Let's go then,” she replies.
With every step that she makes I can tell that she carries various burdens on her own. Inside her chest she carries a broken heart. The splinters of a holocron pierce her soul. Yet she carries on. Like a war machine. Like a puppet on a string.

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There is a sea of colours, wafted by various perfumes and essences. There is also light everywhere. Not harsh and merciless, but soft and playful.

Blinded by so much beauty and serenity, I blink.

“I would feel honoured if you could follow me into the steam bath. His Lordship and the patron are already waiting inside.”

I barely take notice of the servant woman who just said this to us. She is not more than a colourful butterfly that passes by for a brief moment.

There is too much going on in my mind.

I need to avoid getting killed by the dubh sith or to fall prey to the marquise's sharp fangs.

Somebody takes my arm, leading me forwards. I feel like walking on sharp knives. Ruadhan Ahearne and I should not get too familiar with one another. It's better that way.

How am I ever to explain myself to him? There is no way to make him understand that I am but artificial life grown out of dead body cells. The body cells of his stillborn daughter.

The Dark Elf is willing to protect his soul brother from any further heartache.

How much heartache can I take before breaking apart?

I pause in front of something that looks like a Draconian salt crystal lamp.

All my overheating thinking leads to nothing but confusion and agony.

I chose to open up to the Living Force instead. Close to the son of the Skywalker that is actually easy to achieve. It's like bathing in the sun.

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Soon we are all let into the sanctum of the Lidérc homestead. It's like stepping into a dream. The lush plants and the little fountain seem surreal to me.

My lips feel so dry, but I resist the urge to plunge into the water. I am not a mere animal. “Patience,” I tell my self. “Patience.”

I have survived until now. Surely, the Force will not desert me right now.

Another servant woman, dressed in expensive looking garments, approaches us. “His Lordship and the patron are already waiting inside the steam bath.”

I cannot understand why my former customers had wanted me so badly, when they have such heavenly creatures at hand. Devoted priestesses, schooled in all the aspects of healing.

A group of servant women forms a circle around my companions and me. They speak no word, but smile at us in a friendly manner. With skilled fingers they undress us and discreetly put us into cotton towels. Then we are led on into a bathroom with tiles.

Vicomte Ankoù, only wearing a towel around his hips, looks at us. Even without his desert robes he remains an impressive sight. He is a youth around sixteen, broad shouldered and muscular. His movements are that of a very graceful dancer. He has copper skin and shoulder length hair, which is black and curly.

At first, I am scared being cleaned by unknown hands. Then I accept the sponges, the peeling gloves, the water and the towels that touch me unasked.

While cascades of water crash down on me, while I feel watched by Vicomte Ankoù. His cat eyes glitter like the ice of a glacier. For some reason he seems to be distressed and overtaxed with me.

Suddenly, I realized that it is a blessing to be a clone. The son of the Skywalker is not able to read my thoughts. To his Midi-chlorians I am a paradox in the Force. My worries, my wishes and, most of all my memories, are safe.

I hide my smile. Now I can fully enjoy to be tended by all those servant women around us. Especially, when I receive a massage with olive foam.

Hands move my exposed skin, teasing all the stiffness out of it.

At a certain point I fall asleep.

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(To be continued!)

 

Ahh! I am glad Sio is finally getting soothed and restful sleep. An ease from all the stress!

 

being cared for and asleep is nice for her

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha & @earlybird-obi-wan, I am glad that you are still on this journey.

@DarthUncle has been utterly busy with running the household while I am trying to heal from my foot injury that a stupid staircase gave me.

@Darth_Furio & @Kahara, this is also for you:


(Still Chapter 6!)

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When I wake up again, my skin is clean and I wear a coat made out of silk. I am asked to lie down on a funnily shaped sofa. Only then I notice the carefully arranged tea tray. It is a sight well-known to me from my days as a kitchen maid.

“An Elfin tea ceremony?” I ask with delight.

The half-blooded Lidérc woman, whom Vicomte Ankoù had called Minou, smiles at me. “Please stay this way, child. It is not required that you kneel in your state.”

A person who is acquainted with the Way of the Tea is no evil being. It is a manner of honouring the Living Force.

When the porcelain mug with the green tea finally reaches my lips, I take a sip of utter gratitude. The taste of jasmine petals strokes my tongue.

Nobody speaks a word and so I can embrace the silent lucidity around us.

For now I am done with running away from people.

When the tea ceremony is over, the servant women come back in again. They remove the morning robes that all of us wear and give us another massage. This time the procedure is done with precious oils.

I recognise almond and rose essences before I dose off into sweet oblivion.

All was well again. The dark side has lost its cruel grip on me. The only thing that I can feel inside is peace.

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The tiny movements deep inside me wake me up several hours later. Spirals of joy and of light. The baby stirs inside its home. This place fully deserves the title 'House of Healing'.

“There you are,” I whisper to my unborn son, my fingers moving over the huge bulk that I call belly. “I was so afraid to lose you.”

I am very grateful to Vicomte Ankoù for bringing the entire company here. His intuition has served him well. All of us have needed some healing rather badly.

Lazily, I stretch myself.

Somebody has put me into a silken night gown. The sheets of my bed are clean and smell fresh. I like the fabric of the blanket. The pillows on which my head rests are unbelievably soft and smooth.

Happy and content with the universe, I start singing one of the love songs that I have picked up in the ducal household of Dún Mor-Shiabh.

My son relaxes with every note that I sing. I can tell that the drugs have simply bounced off him. I assume that my Midi-chlorians have come to his rescue and abandoned me for a while instead. The Force had obviously formed a protective bubble around him.

A voice shatters into my little world.

“You have no idea about those things! Alezan was a better father to me than this eternal Force bender. A being so driven by his urge to serve other's that he forgot about me and the other children that he has nursed.”

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When I finally manage to overcome my shyness, I pushed the door open. The corridor is overcrowded with a lot of folk already.

An impressive Lidérc male of true blood thunders, “Let us kill this snake lover here and now! The magic of Cunabula is forbidden in my realm.”

The step-sister of Vicomte Ankoù answers with a rather thin, yet determined voice, “There is nothing magical about the holocron. It is just a teaching device.”

Cold hands reach out for my heart, wringing it thoroughly.

Vicomte Ankoù, unmasked and only in his leather breacher, steps between the girl and the furious full-blood. “She is just an unreasonable child that found a dangerous toy, papa,” he stresses.

“This time you cannot protect her any longer, my son!” The old comte roars, madness and contempt still blazing in his slanted cat eyes. His midnight blue fur coat is stiff. His majestic tail sweeps back and forth. “I listened to you before and it was wrong.”

Then he hisses something that I do not get.

The cough sounds from the edge of the watching crowd. “I beg your pardon, old friend, but may I interfere here?”

 

Wonderful tea ceremony followed by an intense scene with the holocron.

 

sweet tea ceremony followed by intense action ending in . . .

 

The tea ceremony and everything leading up to the holocron scene made me feel happy, relaxed, and luxurious

Great to have an outsider perspective on this scene, though I am sorry it broke Sionnach and my comfort!

Also, last weeks scenes are a nice prelude to the ending here, filled with suspense and a purposely undirected feeling of unease, well done.

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: My husband and I were at a Japanese tea ceremony during the Long Night of the Museums very recently. But originally this part was triggered by a book called "Le Voyage de Théo" by Catherine Clément (1998).

@earlybird-obi-wan: Your doted sentence creates "Erwartungshaltung" inside me, bird.

@DarthUncle: And I am happy to announce that Ny has secured all chapters until Chapter 9 by now. So there will be more even after I return to my busy work.

 

Because a busy weekend is on its way, I update now and won´t be back until next weekend, @Darth_Furio, @WarmNyota_SweetAyesha, @Kahara, @earlybird-obi-wan and @DarthUncle:


Chapter 7:

Suddenly, a bearded human man steps out of the little crowd. His face has an unusual olive colour. He must be from the water planet of Amnion. I cannot help to stare at him. He radiates such a huge amount of confidence and integrity.

“I fear that my wife's Force legacy once more brought your household shame and dishonour,” he claims straight away, his voice firm and deep.

“Indeed,” is the much calmer reply of Comte Ankoù, who looks less threatening now. His fur is almost smooth again.

I can feel the Unifying Force at display here.

Inside me the choir of Midi-Chlorians swells up.

Uncle Agathos. It must be him. My aunt Arcānā's husband.

I start holding my breath.

Granny has told me a lot about the senator though they never had a chance to meet. But she was happy that his wisdom brightened up the court of Cunabula like a light house. On his guard the dark side has weakened its vicious grip on the future queen of Draconis.

“I know a solution to this deadly conflict that sprung up here among you,” Uncle Agathos moves on, displaying nothing but diplomatic manners. “Give your step-daughter into my care.”

The Marquise startles me with her airborne attack. When she lands in front of Uncle Agathos she hisses something that is very hard to decipher. Her lids are half closed, which turns her face into a bizarre mask. Luckily, it is not the Dark Side of the Force that is showing here. Just a confused and broken heart defending itself by all means available to it. Her aura colours tell me thus.

As usual the senator gives his best to stay reasonable. “What I was going to suggest, dear Marquise, is: come with me to Draconis. If the culture of my wife interests you so much, then be a permanent guest in our home.”

I beam at the suggestion, feeling at the same instant that this is the will of the Force to bring the balance back.

“You really would do that for my beloved sister?”

Vicomte Ankoù sounds nothing but baffled. I am sure not even his clairvoyance in the Force helped him to see the current events coming. He seems so helpless. Like a child in by far too big boots really. Not confident enough to move around.

“I say, we kill her at this very spot!” shouts his adoptive father, the old Comte.

Uncle Agathos puts on a friendly smile, still giving his best not to let the situation escalate in any way. His body language is very precise and soothing. I can clearly see that he is a trained politician. “My dear friend, my own children play with holocrons like this on a daily bases,” he begins and releases nothing but conviction into his voice. “I assure you there is nothing evil in them.”

I wish it would be that simple. A holocron is much more than a simple learning device. The soul of its user leaves imprints on it. And with high age they develop a life on their own. This is what I have come to learn in one of my last confident conversations with Draíocht.

My heart reaches out for her, wishing that the Force-sensitive Elf was here with me. Because the child is due soon. All the excitement causes it's resolve to be with me in the outside world.

“Soon,” I whisper to my unborn son.

Meanwhile the conversation has moved on and I catch the senator saying, “… our serpent-spawn is save from any harm. The jungle is their natural habitat and they bathe in love. I could not imagine any better way for children to grow up.”

Vicomte Ankoù reaches out for the offered human hands. His aura is a confusing display of colours for me. The light side and the dark side fight a severe battle for his soul. There is a conflict. “You really would do that for Isabeau?” he mumbles, his piercing blue eyes downcast.

“I see no reason why not,” shrugs Uncle Agathos.

“Under one condition!”, the old Comte intervenes, “I never want to see her face again. Is that clear?”

“Oui, papa.” Vicomte Ankoù gets down on his knees in obedience. His back is bent, his heart in low spirits. “Yes, father. I swear by all that is holy to me, you will never suffer her company again.”

“What is going on?” The Marquise demands to know with a high pitched voice.

I pity the girl very much. The use of a simple holocron has made her an outcast among her own people. Even her own family wants her dead. Even though I am an orphan and not really acquainted with my royal family, I had much more love and compassion in my life. And, even better, I have the Force. It is with me always. The Marquise tries to push this gift away with all her might.

I sneak back into my room, glad that my secret – the holocron – is buried in the cold waters of a glen light years away from this planet.

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Over the next few days I am left on my own most of the time. I am not sad about it. Actually, I enjoy spending hours with my unborn son and Force meditation. I also do not wish to be a further witness to the Ankoù family drama going on.

Each time a servant woman shows up I am provided with treats for either the body or for the soul. I get further luxurious massages, get sent to the steam bath or am treated with wonderful skin lotions.

Opening myself to the Unifying Force, I live for the moment only, enjoying it to the fullest.

Slowly, my balance and self-awareness are restored.

I neither see Vicomte Ankoù nor my gentle hostess during my long process of recovery. Now and then I do wonder about their whereabouts, but I am too polite to ask any of the servant women.

Granny has taught me to stay modest. Curiosity had not been encouraged by her overly much.

When my son chooses to enter the world, I am on my own, well, apart from having the Force and my Midi-chlorians in me, that is. I do not lose all that much blood, but I feel fatigue claiming me when I lie down with my freshly cleaned child.

A servant woman that enters makes a big fuzz out of it. “Milady, you should have called us. We are here for your sake!”

“All is fine,” I answer sleepily, stroking Éibhear with my fingertips. He is so perfect, so beautiful. My heart swells with pride.

In the meantime, the patroness of Ostal Blanc enters. “I came as quickly as I could,” Madame Yeotenn gets out breathlessly. Her hands cramp around her walking stick.

“There was no need to hurry,” I assure her, my eyes solemnly fixed on Éibhear.

“But you are my guest and matter a lot to His Lordship.”

I frown. “To Comte Ankoù?”

“I was rather referring to the Vicomte, his eldest son,” the patron answers nonplussed. A stern note is swinging in her raspy voice.



Uncertainty claims me. Madame Yeotenn must know that the Vicomte is not the heir of House Ankoù. Leave alone the off-spring of its sovereign. It is a mystery that I will not, cannot solve right now.

“There is no need to worry about me.” I am drifting away into the realm of sleep more and more. My strength is waning. “Give him my highest regards when you see him...”

“Who?”

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Vicomte Ankoù is sitting at the edge of my bed when I return from the land of happy dreams. His gaze through his war mask is concerned.

“Milord!” I start cleaning my eyes from sleep.

“You gave us all a dreadful fright.” He crosses his arms in front of his impressive chest. “You should not have given birth on your own.”

His scorn makes me sad, but I mask it up. Elfin faces are perfect for closing up like a fan. “I have learned to survive on my own a long time ago. It never did occur to me that I should ask for help. The Force was with me.”

“Perhaps,” he mumbles behind his war mask. “But I would not always count on that if I were you, milady.”

Today the son of the sky walker radiates more contradicting feelings than ever. It makes me dizzy and uncomfortable. I hope it is not the same for my innocent baby boy. He needs more stable persons around him.

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Much to my dismay Vicomte Ankoù becomes a constant visitor. He is masked most of the time, which made his features an enigma. We do not talk overly much with one another and when there is an exchange of words it is usually him making the effort. Underneath his mask of civility and chivalry the dark side of the Force is lurking. Since that sorrowful day in the corridor, something very bad has been happening to him. His aura has turned dark and frightening.

One time I am so tense that I break my porcelain mug. Spiced chai tea spills all over the expensive carpet, leaving an ugly spot.

Vicomte Ankoù cleans up the mess in silence, before I can even move in my chair. Frowning deeply, he looks at me. “What are you so afraid of?”

“Milord, we both know that I just live on borrowed time.” I try to make my back as straight as possible. “I am a clone conceived by necromancy. My genes link me directly to the royal family of Tjiehenet and His Lordship Taran Cù Sìth. When your own sister was cast out for...”

His shoulders flinch openly. “Do you suggest that I should not delay your execution any longer?”

Éibhear starts crying in his cradle. Of course the tense atmosphere is getting at him.

I get up immediately, picking him up.

The crying stops after some heartbeats.

To hold my son against my chest does not only make his tiny body relax in my arms. It also makes me feel better. It is a symbiosis, almost of the same kind that I have with my Midi-Chlorians.

“You mistake me for a villain, milady.” Vicomte Ankoù also has gotten up from his pillow in the meantime. “I am merely a peace keeper in this realm. The brotherhood that I belong to did raise me as such since my early infancy.”

I crook my brow, thinking of the religious order that his half-sister Mórag has founded. Pushing away the unpleasant memories, I state, “Perhaps my prolonged stay in this city causes just trouble for everybody.”

“You are no inconvenience at all, milady. I am very honoured to have you as my guest.” His eyes wander towards Éibhear's puffed baby face. “And your son.”

I frown deeply.

Why this extreme interest in my child? It does not seem healthy in the least.

I push back my thoughts of my former customers and their unhealthy delights in fresh Elfin meat.

“This is a great honour, but we cannot go on with this arrangement forever.”

The moment that I pronounce my worries, I come to realize I am right. Clairvoyance stirs in me, granted by the Unifying Force.

“I do not belong on this planet,” I move on. Draconis is the soil where I was born and raised. This is where I need to be. Where my son will grow up, surrounded by love and happiness.”

Draíocht might take me in once more, even cherish Éibhear. Together we might even ways to fend off Mórag and Aunt Arcānā. There is hope.

I smile to myself.

There is always a new hope.

Vicomte Ankoù makes a dismissive gesture with his left hand. “Under no circumstances can you ever return there.”

My answer surprises us both. “Why?”

“You are not safe on Draconis.” His voice creaks louder than his leather gloves. “There are too many influential persons that have a great interest in the two of you.”

I sigh. “But I am not born for a life like this, safely put away in a golden cage. I need the free sky above me. My child will not be born in captivity.”

Once spoken out aloud, I realize how much I am missing the turn of the seasons. And with it the daily circle of light. Even back in the ducal castle of Éibhear's father I had been able to gaze outside. Here at Ostal Blanc I am enclosed by sandstone and luxury. It suffocates me. There is no room for learning and real development.

Vicomte Ankoù starts pacing the room like a troubled animal. His movements are majestic and elegant as usual though. “This may be all true, milady, but things are the way they are. You have to stay in this sanctuary for good.”

A big lump is forming in my throat. “Am I your prisoner?”

Now it is his turn to sigh. “Did I give you any reason to think so?”

I shake my head, puzzled by the sadness that is expressed by his aura colours suddenly. “I am very grateful for Your kindness, milord.” I manage to say before he interrupts me.

“My life is cursed with headstrong women,” he snaps out very annoyed, all traces of sorrow gone. “You make me believe that it would have been better to leave you exactly where I found you.”

I put Éibhear back into his cradle, away from his burning gaze. “Milord, I do not blame you for your decisions, but have you ever thought through what will happen after my rescue?” I am too exhausted to look directly at him. “We must come to certain agreements, for I am not accustomed or fit to sit around lazily.”

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

(To be continued!)

 

Agathos is a wonderful voice of reason and compromise with Isabeau Love the talk about options with Lucien who seems very captivated with Sionnach. No, she is definitely not the type to sit by and be idle.

 

“My life is cursed with headstrong women,”

I lived with four women in my house growing up and now have a two in my current home. If they weren't headstrong, it wouldn't be right. Love all my girls.

 

Women are strong. Sionnach sure is and my niece too.

 

interesting.

aww; hm, or is it worrying how unsure he is, what with all his influence and strength in the Force? Comes back at the end of this.

I have to wonder whether, like a true politician, Agathos decided to slightly embellish the full truth to smooth over some of the ripples here, and for ease of explanation

Heh, yeah, imagine if Ankou had found that with her, or if she now said "oh, yeah, I have another one here, perhaps Agathos could take it back to Draconis with him, where it belongs But first let me show you how it works "

Nice contrast - Sionnach embraces the Force, but threw the holocron devise away when it was a burden; Isabeau klings to it to her detriment, while pushing against the Force being with her.

Yeah, not sure that's going to go quite as she wants

Gosh, why would that have been now - not so sure that was either for purely educational purposes, or a good decision on the whole, given Sionnach still managed to (thanks to not having been told about why it wasn't a good idea!) let her curiosity with the holocron kill that car, didn't she [pet peeve: though here it's understandably done; don't like sage old counsellors that tell the heroes just when it is too late "no, I knew about that, but you had to find out yourself/I was protecting you from the truth/sorry slipped my mind I guess" - often a bit of a cop out to create a bit of artificial suspense; not here I though don't think ]
Also, as alluded to w. the holocron, not quite sure it quenched her curiosity all that much, so far in this story she has managed to stumble upon quite a few (semi-)hidden truths that might have been a lot easier had she not!

Heh, seems they didn't figure yet that she's quite an independent women

I like how practical she is here. And coolly self-preserving. Well done Granny for teaching her

Not good. Was that a warning? Does he even know himself how he meant that? Bad kitten.

Heh, she likes to come to the point doesn't she

Eh, seesh, *hits kitten on nose* Bad kitty!

I am sure you'd like to believe that tomcat; but yeah, just let her go already!

No, I am sure she's not. I wonder did he hear about her escape from Arcana, the castle/his sister,etc.? Also, I think he might be forgetting that Agathos knows Sionnach is here - now, he might think her safer here than near his wife, but, eh, maybe not, given above 'shall I commence with the killing now' bit.

What a lot of action again, this Sionnach story is sure moving fast en furious! You even plop a birth in there without breaking a sweat (while at the same time not making it appear like it was just a pause in between breakfast and tea for her).

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha, @Darth_Furio, @earlybird-obi-wan & @DarthUncle, who is very dear to me, a quick update before I disappear into the autumnal Harz Mountains for the rest of the weekend.

I wish I could give you all a longer feedback on your kind & thoughtful comments regarding my last update, but due to my mother I am in bit of a hurry.

And I fear that my next week at work will bring a lot of drama, chaos & madness. Not only for me but for the rest of my team as well. We are all at the edge of a complete burn-out. The problem is, we care too much & are not very well cared for by those who should know better.

So, I won´t be back until the next weekend. Have fun reading!



(Still Chapter 7!)

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

Minou Yeotenn, the Honoured Madame of Ostal Blanc, happily agrees to let me be a novice.

“Even though you have the beauty of a courtesan, you are not meant for a training in classical music, conversation and dance. Such a shame for Sodalith the She-moon.” Her gaze is filled with humour while she said so. “No, your way is not the Way of the Tea, ma cherié. Your gentle hands speak a very clear language. The Force is strong in you.”

There is a pause.

“Make it known throughout the city, Luçien, that Sionnach O'Conghaile is an adept of the moon maiden Calme from now on,” she tells the young noble man.

He answers with a curt nod, before saying, “That will keep adventurous young men such as my cousin Zouave at bay. Nobody will dare to question the Holy office. Not even that barbarians from Fort du Montagnes.”

Luçien.

What a wonderful name the son of the Skywalker has! It derives from the old Ophidea word for 'light': lux.

I hide my smile in my tea mug. He is too great a mystery to behold. It might cost me more than my heart to get acquainted with him any deeper. The purity of my soul is at risk. It is one of the few treasures that I have left. Therefore I have to guard it against his piercing beauty.

As usual my heart is filled with joy and sorrow at the same time, when Vicomte Ankoù finally leaves the premises.

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

The most satisfying consequence of the arrangement is that I am able to deepen my previous knowledge of herbalism. There are many local desert plants that have been entirely unknown to me.

Date palms with their sweet fruits. Wild desert roses. The seventy species of the evergreen juniper tree. The Desert hyacinth who is a parasite. Acacia trees.
Salt bushes and many more.


My favourites are the exotic spices though: cumin, nutmeg, turmeric, cinnamon, aniseed, saffron, cardamom, sumac and cloves. They do not only enrich the local cuisine, but are essential for healing. Their restorative benefits for body and soul are amazing. I like to learn about innovative blends and fusions of them.

“There are infusions for headaches. For reducing hypertension. To improve concentration and attention. Or herbal mixtures for the treatment of fungi,” I tell Éibhear one afternoon, while I am breastfeeding him. “There are also a lot for helping the digestive system.”

My baby son does not really care overly much. His main interest is milk and the place he can get it from.

“One fine day I will teach you all that I learned and you will become a famous Force healer.”

I swear to myself that I will not make Éibhear acquainted with the concept of acupuncture though.

“I can see the energy lines of persons under their very skin”, I speak more to myself than to him. “It is just that I cannot insert the actual steel needles. It is a manipulation of the natural energy flow after all.”

There has been a lot of meddling around in my life until now.

This is why I cannot convince myself that the art of acupuncture is meant for me. I am not a very manipulative person.

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

Over the months that follow I become more accustomed with Madame Yeotenn, who has been in service to her two moon goddesses all her life long.

“Coriander,” I reply one evening shortly before dinner. “All parts of the plant are edible.”

She nods friendly at me. “Please go on.”

“Its fresh leaves and dried seeds are commonly used in cooking. The dry fruits are known as coriander seeds. Coriander is generally beneficial to the nervous system. The main use is...”

“... in masking foul medicines,” the patron ends the sentence for me before clapping her withered, wiry hands. “Excellent.”

I cannot help blushing.


Being praised so openly embarrasses me. It always has. I do not like being the centre of attention.

“There is nothing left to teach you on this terrain, my dear. We should move on to poisons.”

I blink. “What?”

“A healer also must know about the shadow sides of his or her trade.”

I have to voice my concern. “I do not question your wisdom, Madame, but I do not think...”

Madame Yeotenn lets out an audible sigh. “Some poisons are also toxins, usually referring to naturally produced substances. Substances that are also blessed by the Force.”

I am fully aware of that fact, yet my resistance grows. “You ask too much from me.”

“Every poison has its antidote. Atropine for example can be fought with Physostigmine,” the patron points out, looking at me like a sovereign. “Or cyanide with amylnitrite, sodiumnitrite or sodiumthiosulfate.”

“I will teach her,” offers Vicomte Ankoù, while being lead into the dining room by one of the moon priestesses. He is still in his travel robes, but already unmasked. “She needs to be able to provide treatment for any symptoms of poisoning: seizures, shock and pain.”

I feel uncomfortable under his intense stare. “There is no necessity for me to know of such things.”

“I fear there is.” He sits down on his heels, opposite to me. “To die of poisoning is still one of the main causes of death on this planet. The heritage of the Ophidea still weighs heavily on my people. There is no honour in such vendettas.”

“A blood feud?” I pipe up. “You mean that people really solve a crime like this? By answering with another murder?”

“As the chef de la sécurité of this city I have seen a lot of darkness, milady. Crimes of unbelievable cruelty. This is why the Brotherhood of Shadows was formed in the first place. It is the war of the Sons of Light against the Daughters of Darkness. Against all who violate the covenant.”

The handsome features of the young Lidérc half-blood have hardened during his revealing speech. I notice the toll that his struggle has taken on him so far. He has become a darksider himself, corrupted by his own goodness.

It is not healthy to be too emotional about one's goals in life. And he strongly believes that he is doing the right things, which is even more tragic.

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

We did not speak during dinner, which creates an invisible cloud of frustration and discomfort. Around dessert I am too eager to leave the room, but the son of the sky walker stops me by placing his left hand on one of my thighs.

“Please stay, milady!” he booms. “I would like to have a word with you. Under four eyes.”

I am displeased to see Madame Yeotenn rise from her cushion and leave us. Somehow I feel betrayed. Of course her entire allegiance lies with him. Word has it that she fostered him until his fifth birthday.

“You are not of my people and therefore our customs must seem brutal to you, milady, but there is something that I have to inform you of. Jonc Chouchenn is no more.”

I shrink back at the sight of a little leather bag attached to his belt. Naked terror strikes me. “You have not!” I cry out.

“This is the traditional punishment for the crimes he has committed on you, milady.” The young noble man shows neither remorse nor sadness. “It has been done this very way to male Lidérc since the Reign of Chaos.”

I get up before he has a chance to place the bag in my lap. “There was no need. I only wanted the children to be safe.”

“That male was a danger to my society.” Suddenly, Vicomte Ankoù towers above me, his blue eyes raging with the cold fire of the Dark Side. “I cannot allow street business like this in my city. His methods of treating females and young ones cannot be excused.”

“You are not better than him,” I sob and flee the room.

 

Wonderful progress with Sio taking up healer training. And intense and startling interactions with Lucien.

And and for @AzureAngel2 ...

 

love to see her become a healer

 

Very nice to see her training as a healer; cute when she talks to her son about it (I wonder though, many babies might be very interested in cures for stomach aches ...). Intriguing thoughts on acupuncture, can empathise with that view. On poison, I guess I see what she means, but, not so sure I agree as poisons can also often be used for healing (as pain-killers, or to sedate, etc.), and understanding what poison someone is suffering from also is needed before knowing what antidote could help. But again, I do understand her point of view.

Her thoughts and views on Lucien are also fascinating, quite a bit of attraction (from both sides, I think?) but also her Force-aided view of how his harsh life is leading him astray, with barely anyone around who can/will correct him. And chilling there is righteous indignation, fuelled by the dark side. There's the guy who's won you that 'best villain' writing award

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: The problem with Lucien is that he is a bundle of hate, fear and pretty bad manners. This is why the dark side is always walking at his side, even though he believes that the sun itself shines out of his... bleep. Self-righteousness close to Frollo from Victor Hugo´s novel "Notre Dame de Paris".

@earlybird-obi-wan: Then due to you I will speed the story up a bit and post an entire chapter this weekend. Because I can and Ny enabled me to.

@DarthUncle: While you are sleeping I am answering this and as usual I am happy with your feedback. Would like to discuss matters later when we continue our game afternoon. I get into the kitchen and get the Dutch cookies ready & the Bretonic salt-caramel tea. And then I wake you up carefully.

And yes, amazing that Lucien won that best villain award here on the boards ages ago. But he was a constant source of annoyance for poor @SWpants. She is very happy without him, I think.

Okay, guys, new update. I think I should also tell @Kahara, @Cowgirl Jedi 1701 & @Darth_Furio, just in case.

I will have another nerf wrecking week ahead of me and will not be back until next Sunday. My brave DarthUncle and I will be by far too busy with our 10th wedding anniversary & other matters.



Chapter 8:

Not much later Éibhear bids me welcome with the greed and joy of a baby. While he sucks his share of milk, my tears stop flowing.

The laws of the Lidérc are hard to understand. But it is not my right to judge them or Vicomte Ankoù. I am but a guest. It is all too easy for me to point my finger at others.

The royal House Tjiehenet has not acted any better in its past full of gore and blood.

During the century long Star Wars the Elves had shown a lot of cruelty, too. Even against their own people.

If there was such a thing as a balance of the Force, it was momentarily only. Good and evil were always fighting one another. They were never done.

At least I had my baby boy. All that I could possibly want was resting in my arms.

Due to the patience of Madame Yeotenn, I am willing to give the planet a second chance and stay on for now. But it does not mean that Jonc deserved an end like this. I try not to think about what has happened to the rest of his body.

“When the Ophidea dropped my ancestors off on the soil of Sapuhru, most of them went mad with rage,” the patron explains during an afternoon with a lesson on various massage styles. “They had lost their jungle paradise and had spent years of military service in the icy mountains. It was a betrayal beyond words.”

I listen carefully.

“The Brotherhood of Shadows formed in the most desperate hour of our race. Without their wisdom we would have erased ourselves. They wrote down the Holy Laws and ever since we live by them.”

My hands are still sticky from the massage oil. Absent-mindedly, I clean them with a cloth.

Jojoba oil is silky and quickly absorbent, but since Jonc's execution I feel somewhat dirty.

“Sionnach,” the elderly Lidérc half-blood almost purrs my name. “Luçien is a good person in his own terms. He cannot help being a product of his education and culture. None of us can.”

As true as this sentiment is, I fail to accept that crimes have been committed in my name.

Sooner or later, I might be forced to talk with the son of the sky walker about the conflict that he is in.

Peace and order should not be brought to the galaxy by such dear sacrifices. Safety and stability must be achieved differently.

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

During the subsequent long absence from Vicomte Ankoù I learn all there is to know about the massage practices of various cultures, going back all the way to old Terra.

The people of the heavenly dragon have passed on their knowledge about actuation of all physical processes of the body. This includes the functions of the organs and meridians in harmony with the blood flow.

The patron and I are at the message chamber, but we are not alone. One of the moon priestesses, and it seems silly of me that I had thought of them as mere servants in the beginning of my stay, has agreed to be our test object. It is a friendly half-blood by the name of Sapin. I have to sum up the basics before I can start the actual treatment.

“Warming of the body, especially the limbs. Defence against all exogenous and pathogenic factors. Containment of...” I pause, but luckily manage to remember the facts again. “... of body fluids such as sweat, urine and others. Transformation of food, drink and breath into...”

The abrupt entrance of a coated figure interrupts the training session. I get a rather confusing aura reading from the newcomer. The Force is strong in that person.

“Telenn!” Madame Yeotenn seems baffled. “Why would you travel at day light? It can kill you.”

The stranger takes the dusty hood of the travel cloak off. A deep blue face with disturbing red eyes appears. Dark blue hair frames a very sharp face with high cheekbones and a thin nose. I am staring at a legendary Asrai, a Water Elf. It seems to be female. “We tried to stop the master, but he would not listen to us,” she speaks straight into our heads.

The patron looks alarmed. “Where is he, Telenn?”

“In a place we cannot reach him. He is blocking us out. Which is bad for we are only his Force disciples.”

“Please tell me that he has not taken that cursed holocron with him.” Madame Yeotenn's voice is a harsh whisper, drowned by tears.

The agony the water elf is in is unmistakable, even though her features are as hard as a gem stone. “He did not give it back to his step-sister. Nor did he return it to Senator Aletheia.”

“Contact Cunabula!” the patron shrieks. I never have witnessed her so unbalanced before.

The Water Elf shakes her head. “The crown princess will send her troops to kill us off. It was never officially confirmed that we followed Dealg into exile. We hide in the realm of myths and legends.”

“He must not destroy the holocron,” Madame Yeotenn moans. “It is madness.”

And then, just like that, my world explodes.

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

I wake up with an immense headache, concerned moon priestesses hovering above me. The patron is among them. “Child, what happened?” she inquires.

“An outcry of the Force,” I mumble, still having trouble to adjust my vision. Auras and halos dance in front of me. The physical world itself is blurry and lacks of colours right now. “Have you not heard it?”

“For me it only felt as if a cloud had hidden the sun for a brief moment,” Madame Yeotenn answers truthfully.

I reach out deep inside me. My blood stream flows at its usual pace. The organs work as they should. There was no physical harm done. My DNA has protected me from worse. I am a legitimate member of the Tjiehenet family.

With a huge effort I sit up straight. I feel slightly drained and weak after my spiritual encounter with the dark side.



“We must find His Lordship,” I voice. “I fear he made a dreadful mistake. That was no normal holocron. This one did house a disembodied spirit. It had been able to transfer its consciousness into the inanimate pyramid.”

“How do you know that it is a pyramid?” the Asrai called Telenn asks me with an icy edge.

“During my childhood on Draconis I had my own holocron,” I reply truthfully. “Pyramids are their common shape. The four elements gather in them and form the fifth.”

A moan escapes Madame Yeotenn's throat, before she is able to squeeze out, “I would never have expected you to be a servant of the dark side.”

This accusation hurts me a lot. “My holocron never emitted a dark presence. Nor had it created tremors in the Force upon its activation. It had been good for I had been good,” I voice. “Granny never would have given me something that was evil. Her only concern was my education. She always wanted the best for me.”

The female Asrai turns her red glowing eyes away from me. “Minou, I will not dare question the decision the master made with this naive child. But I will not listen to her infatuation any longer. I came to you for help. If she will not be quiet, I will leave without you.”

Somehow, I find the strength to heave myself up. “His Lordship is somewhere out there and badly injured. I have no time for a discussion like this.” Tears gather in my eyes. “An evil spirit just has broken into a thousand pieces, piercing his heart and soul.”

Telenn bites her lower lip for a while. Then she decides to say, “I can show you exactly where he is. Whether you will be able to reach out for him is a different matter altogether though. Come along, serpent-spawn!”

Nobody has ever called me thus, but it is true to some account.

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

Desire, need and despair, combined with pride and hubris. Whatever has freed itself during the explosion of the holocron, it has found a fertile soil within the soul of Vicomte Ankoù. Outstretched, he lies on the floor of the underground cave. It is hard to say whether he is conscious or not. Judging by the serious degree of his burns, I hope for him that he has passed out. It is a Force miracle that he was still alive.

Uncertainly, I step closer to the shield of lightening that both covers and protects the stiff body. “It takes mastery and high concentration to achieve a barrier like this,” I observe.

Neither Telenn nor her gathered clan members answer me. For them I am foul, a scion of the royal House Tjiehennet. Plus they are unwilling to admit that their beloved master has come too close to the dark side of the Force. The Force skills that he possesses are not blessed by the light side. Instead they are used by the dark side.

While I remain in front of the mighty barrier that the son of the Skywalker has erected, I remember all of Granny's teachings.

A smile spreads over my face. I almost felt the sunlight dancing over my skin while I sit on her lap back in the nursery. Her voice echoes in my heart.

“The Light Side of the Force aligns with honesty, compassion, mercy and other positive emotions. This is the path I wish you to be on, Sionnach. Always.”

As I step closer towards the abyss of crackling lightening, I become calm and determined. “If I end up getting killed today, I want my son Éibhear to be brought to Draconis,” I announce. “There is a Daoine Side woman. Her name is Draíocht. She lives in the Vallum Ventii and is kin to Malm, the blacksmith of Dún Barr. Tell her Falu trusts her. As a midwife and mother of four she will understand my choice.”

“That won't be necessary, my child.”

Dealg, the Wanderer, has entered the cave in all his stunning glory.

“The ability to bring others back from the brink of death is physically and emotionally draining to you. It only would be a waste of your own light. Let me intervene here, please!”

Big-eyed I watch the powerful Force bender walking straight through the barrier. His tall body cuts through the dangerous lightening like a knife through butter. He bends down on his knees and reaches out for his son tenderly.

“So much pride, Luçien. Too many misguided ambitions. Instead of bringing balance back to the Force you drown yourself in darkness. You have shown little forethought or regard for the consequences of your actions. I should have been a better father to you.”

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

Time becomes meaningless for me. For all of us present. All we can do is to bear silent witness to the healing process.

Fractal images dance in front of me, one more beautiful than the other. Their colour display reminds me of the Force vortex, that I once visited briefly. So much peace, so much love.

When Dealg finishes the healing process the shield is gone. Only he and Luçien remain.

“Sionnach, come here!” the Force bender asks, stretching out one of his hands.

I take it.

“Listen, child, I gave my best to heal him, but there are still dark spots in his soul. I have no power over those. Only you have.”

“Me?”

This is the last thing that I have expected to hear.

“You can show him true devotion to the light side of the Force,” Dealg says full of conviction and with a dreamy smile. His ageless face holds such ancient eyes.

“I do not wish to be unkind,” Telenn interrupts us.

“This child here knows more about the ways of the Force than any of us. She is the ray of light that I had been hoping for in my son's life. Being with her will do him good and soften his ego.”

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

Dealg is long gone, when Vicomte Ankoù wakes up from his healing trance. He is more than upset that he has missed the opportunity to speak to his father in person.

“Why is he gone again, Telenn?” he shouts through the underground cave.

While the tall Lidérc half-blood does so, I see him for what he really is: a child that feels unloved and uncared for, neglected by his biological father. A parent he yearns to be close with, to share his life with, to emulate, and to be respected by. That wish devours him from inside out. This is the true reason for his failures in so many fields.

I do not know how it feels to have a father. Females have created me and females have been my teachers until now. There had not been many males in my life. The few that I have met had either been friends or foe.

I turned away when Telenn started soothing Luçien in a way that a mother does her child. He has enough persons that could take care of him. I do not see my importance in his life. There is no way that I can ever be his substitute for love.

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

Over the following days, the son of the sky walker avoids me like an infectious disease. I feel his brooding presence at Ostal Blanc more than once though. He cannot hide that easily from me. Luckily, there are other things to do in my life than taking his aloof behaviour into account. There is another male who needs my full attention.

“Health exists when there is a balance between the three fundamental bodily humours: wind, bile and phlegm. They are composed from the five great elements.”

Éibhear signals his hearty consent by belching loudly. His big blue baby eyes are filled with happiness after a satisfying meal.

“Mammy will stay until you are asleep and then she will be off to her tea lessons again.”

The distances within Ostal Blanc are short.

I kiss his brow when he begins snoring peacefully on our bed. His tiny face is filled with sweetness and honesty. I leave the chamber light-footed.

There are always some generous moon priestesses who attend on him in my absence. He never minds. To please him is an easy task. He is an uncomplicated child. Once someone starts singing to him his tears stop flowing. He simply loves songs.

Once I am inside the tea kitchen I come to realize that it is a tranquil night. Most patients seem to have come for an advice of Calme. There are more aromatic oils in the air than musical tunes. Which means that only a few males seek the company of Sodalith's courtesans tonight.

“You have a visitor,” Néné and Oeillet, full-blooded Lidérc twins, inform me in unison, when I am busy composing tea blends against headaches and stomach cramps.

“But I do not know anybody in the city, apart from His Lordship,” I muse with perplexed wonderment.

Ruadhan Ahearne and his soul brother, the dubh sith, have left the planet around the time that Marquise Riwalan was sent into exile.

Telenn is not likely to see me after all that has happened in the underground cave.

“You can have the tea room as long as you like.” Néné beams with joy. “She insisted to speak with you on her own and in absolute privacy.”

“She?”

Together the twins push me towards the main tea room and quickly close the iron door wings behind me.

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

I face a female half-blood that is somehow familiar to me. She holds herself with the poise of a true Aristocrat. Her face has a deadly beauty. The gems she wears are exquisite and expensive beyond means. Her entire garments, including her half-veil, are crimson. “Princess Sionnach,” she addresses me ever so smoothly. “I am so pleased to finally make your acquaintance.”

“Lady Ankoù?” I pipe up, vaguely remembering her. She had been present in her hunting gear the day that her step-daughter Isabeau got banished.

Even though her voice is friendly and well-mannered, her eyes regard me with a cool precision. “Actually, it is Mademoiselle Goañv,” she corrects me. “But you can call me Flor.”

She is a commoner? Not that I do mind. The old Comte can marry he ever wishes to. As far as I know he has about five or six wives. Most alpha males have a harem of keen huntresses to bring them food in. I ask myself if the Lidérc half-blood in front of me is the main wife.

“What... how...” I am fishing for words, not sure how to ask her about the reason of her visit.

In emotional times like these, the melodious language of the Lidérc is a problem for me. Otherwise Granny has taught me well, as if she had known that languages would come in handy for me one fine day.

“This is about my son, Your Highness.” Flor makes herself comfortable on one of the brocade pillows. “Poor Luçien has been through a lot recently. The loss of his beloved step-sister, and that vicious holocron.”

I long to tell his mother that there is nothing vicious about holocron technology at all, but I keep still, while I sink down on a pillow. I fold my hands in my lap.

Mademoiselle Goañv will never understand how joyful it is to talk to a gate-keeper. How informative the heart of a holocron is, if rightly addressed. All Her Ladyship sees is that her child is in severe danger.

“I came to understand you have the benevolence of Vadiação himself?” she asks.

“Who?”

“The Wanderer, also known as the sky walker. The Elves call him Dealg.”

I am not sure what to answer.

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

After a while Mademoiselle Goañv says, “Listen, I do not know how to put it exactly. But, if Dealg is sure that you are good for my son, then I suppose you are.”

I cannot follow her line of thoughts here.

“He cannot marry you, because you are what you are.”

Now I have totally lost her.

“Yet you look so charming that people would understand if he would make you his maîtresse-en-titre.”

This is a word that I happen to know. Stiffly, I get up. “I hardly know your son and yet you wish me to get involved with him? Why would I do that?”

“You really reject him?” Her surprise is honest. “No sane female on this planet ever would.”

Instead of raising my voice I walk out on her. Silence is the best answer that I am able to give at present.

The good looks of her son do not enchant me any more. I feel nothing but pity for him. And for his hard life and all the wrong choices he has made so far. Besides, I do not agree with the methods that he uses to bring justice, order and peace to the realm.

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

Madame Yeotenn comes rushing towards my chambers not too long after I have entered them myself. “Sionnach, what have you done with Her Ladyship?” she pants.

I know that I should feel guilty, but I do not.

“She cannot stop laughing,” the matron goes on.

I had expected her to have a fit like ladies are supposed to have in absolute privacy. But then again, she is not a lady by birth and not of Elfin blood. But she did not march out of Ostal Blanc in murderous blood lust either. All this improves my respect for her, but not my appreciation.

“Patron, I cannot be his maîtresse whatever. Why would Her Ladyship make me such an offer?”

Anger darkens her usually mild face. “I will forbid it. Luçien and I had agreed you to be an adapt of Calme. We both considered your skills and prehistory with men.”

Madame Yeotenn sweeps out of my room, brooding and unhappy.

I retire for the rest of the day, being exhausted both by the indecent proposal that had been made to me and the aftermath of it.

“I belong to nobody.” I mutter while I snuggle closer to Éibhear, who makes a wee sound of protest. “We can take good care of ourselves.”

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

Vicomte Ankoù himself shows up several hours later to offer his heartfelt apologies. His embarrassment is as high as mine. I barely pay him any notice. Éibhear has made his nappies dirty and I am occupied cleaning him.

“This all must seem very queer to you, milady.”

While saying this he is pacing up and down my chambers restlessly. The movements of his long travel coat will spare me from sweeping the room later on. His arms are crossed behind his back. As if to shield himself from me, he is masked.

“I need no protection from the cruel universe,” I inform him briefly.

He stops walking, observing me with his penetrating, dissecting look. I am grateful to my makers in the DNA laboratory that my thoughts are unreadable to him. It certainly has advantages to be a clone around him.

“Milord, please do not take me wrong, you are a very attractive man. I even fancy you a bit. But I will not have you. This little man here is all I need to make me whole.”

I mean every word I say.

The intensity of his gaze grows steadily.

I am sure not many people dare to oppose him. Within the city walls his name is whispered like a prayer, feeding his unhealthy pride. I will not volunteer to humble him though.

“My responsibilities lie with my child and with my training to become a Force healer. I owe that to the Elfin woman who raised me up as her own granddaughter.”

Silence surrounds him like an icy cloud.

“Whatever your father sees in me, I cannot be that for you. And I cannot heal you from the inside out. You need to recognize your flaws by yourself and...”

“My flaws?” The disturbance of his mind is now visible in his aura. “Pardon me, my flaws?”

Involuntarily, I flinch back from him, leaving a sleepy Éibhear on the bed. I react out of instinct and not out of fear. The Force is with me, it always will be.

“You nurse your anger, flying into a berserk rage now and then, milord. Life means so little to you that you can kill on command.”

He looks at me with mortification. “I will not be judged by a creature like you.”





Sources:
Wookieepedia – The Star Wars Wiki
Jedipedia, a free German Star Wars-Enzyklopedia
Hidden quotes from SW movies and the SW universe

 

Excellent progress with Sio learning more about healing skills and confrontations with Flor and Lucien. She stands strong and resolved against the demands they insist upon.

 

Apologies, but indeed.

 

She sure has her confrontation with Lucien and she is strong