Before the Saga Paramour 54 and other lovers...

Title: Paramour 54 and other lovers...
Author: Kit'
Timeframe: 63-43BBY
Genre: AU, fluff, romance, drama, angst, multi-snapshot
Characters: Namia Zahalin, Kithera Rinani, Master Samukay and many, many other OCs.

Summary: Jedi take a vow of non-attachment, but that doesn't mean they need to shut themselves away in the Temple forever. . Namia is one of those Jedi who believes she should always follow where the Living Force leads, and sometimes it leads her to very interesting people.

Notes: This whole thing came about from a combination of inspiration from @Briannakin's Holiday Trope Challenge and the comments of my amazing beta Del_a_Cruz87 who kept making remarks on my unpublished long-fic about how many lovers Namia had apparently taken in her life. That combination led to this...

It's going to be sporadically updated because I've taken way too many bites of the pie and have so many unfinished fics on the go. Hopefully once the long-fic is finally finished I'll get back to USJS, Snips and Snails and Zallie...

Also this, won't go in chronological order (like Snips and Snails) but is going to bounce from place to place... a lot...

Lastly, despite the title, this is still going to very much fit in with the guidelines of the boards, so nothing to worry about on that front...

 

From @Briannakin's Holiday Trope Challenge

Click the spoiler tab to see which options were incorporated

Spoiler

Holiday Tropes
1. Surprise! They’re royalty!
Honestly, it's not Christmas until you're watching the story of a character who meets a love interest with a cute accent, impeccable manners and a mysteriously powerful family, who surprise, is really royalty.

Outfits
1. Tuxedos
4. Ballgown

Random Winter/Holiday Elements
1. Hot cocoa
5. Feast Dinner
7. Snow falling

Also thanks @Cowgirl Jedi 1701 for giving Master Samukay his first name and @WarmNyota_SweetAyesha and @K'Tai qel Letta-Tanku for seconding that motion.

Also a thanks to my husband who groaned at the title that I stole from a Christmas Romance Movie...

*

Paramour #22 - Winter's Dream - part 1

“Master, how much further?”

Namia glanced down at her apprentice. The twelve year old was struggling to keep up, her much shorter legs struggling to maintain the pace of her Master. Namia slowed to a walk and waited for her padawan to catch up.

Kithera Rinani, her first apprentice, normally so full of energy she couldn’t sit still, was red faced and wide eyed. She gave Namia a pained and apologetic smile as she reached her.

“Did I load you up too much?” Namia asked as Kithera reached her. The girl nodded, her arms full of bags and boxes.

“You did say you could carry them. I mean having a bag carrier is why I took an apprentice after all,” Namia said teasingly.

Even though it was supposed to be in jest, she watched her apprentice’s face fall. Namia bit back a sigh. She shouldn’t expect that Kithera would automatically adapt to her teasing.

Just because it was the relationship that she had experienced with her own Master, did not mean it would be the one she could have with her own padawan. Namia squatted down so she was closer to eye-level with her padawan. Kithera was chewing on her lower lip and studying the ground.

She really does think I’ll give her back. Namia thought. She sighed again and reached out to ruffle Kithera’s short, blonde hair.

“Sorry Master,” Kithera looked up and Namia suppressed yet another sigh. This was Initiate Master Pynde-gard’s fault. Good initiates were so terrified of doing the wrong thing that they couldn’t stand up for themselves.

“Don’t apologise. I’m not going to give you back padawan,” she said quietly. “I was just teasing. I like to tease. I should have also realised that I walk too fast and that I shouldn’t expect you to carry so many bags.”

She unhooked the bags from Kithera’s hands and sat them on the ground, before taking one of her padawan’s palms and trying to massage the life back into it. Even though they were on the lower levels of Coruscant there were still some shoppers around. Namia grinned at Kithera as a small flake of snow slowly drifted down.

“It’s snowing.” The twelve year old’s voice was full of marvel and Namia had to remind herself about how sheltered most of the initiates were. Kithera reached up and caught the flake watching it intently as it dissolved on her fingers.

“We should keep going,” Namia smiled down at her padawan. “I promise this is the last stop. Then we might get hoth chocolate and then…” Namia paused and looked again at her padawan’s new Temple sanctioned haircut. “Do something about your hair.”


*

Namia smiled at the shopkeeper as they exited the store. She’d found the last perfect gift in its dark recesses. Even though Jedi were supposed to shun possessions, she liked giving gifts. It had always been her favourite part of The Festival of Life, the week long celebration held across the Core Worlds. She grinned at her padawan as they stepped out into the cold. The snow was falling heavier now, coating their robes with tiny flecks of white. She could feel the emotions bubbling through the Force. Coruscant was always such a tightly repressed city, but somehow during the Festival it opened up. Now it was awash with giddy currents of happiness and joy.

“Hoth Chocolate now?” Kithera asked as they made their way across the city walkways. Namia smiled. Unburdened the girl was almost skipping, her face and Force signature alight with the same emotions as the rest of the city shared.

“Haircut first. Then chocolate.” Namia grinned as the girl made a face.

I am going to have to teach her to shield herself. Namia thought to herself. No Jedi Consular should wear their emotions that obviously on their sleeve.

She watched her padawan stick her tongue out to catch the snowflakes that were drifting down.

But not yet.

Namia paused on a street corner to let a Herglic family pass by. She closed her eyes briefly, letting the echoes and ripples of the emotions flow over and around her. There was a quiver of anger and fear down one of the side streets and Namia’s eyes flicked open. Her padawan was already staring down the street towards where the eddie of feelings had come.

“What did you feel?” Namia asked quietly.

“I heard the cymbals and snare,” Kithera said quietly and Namia frowned, not sure what the girl was talking about. Kithera shook her head and pointed. “Down there. Someone’s in pain. We should go help.”

There was another wave of emotion, stronger this time. It crashed its way through the rest of the Emotions and Namia felt a whirling vortex of fear, pain and barely controlled anger. She looked down at Kithera.

“Did you bring your lightsaber?” She asked pulling the straps tighter on her backpack. The girl nodded and unhooked it. “Good.” Namia nodded. “Let’s hope you don’t have to use it.”


*


Namia rounded the corner at speed and took a moment to take into the scene before her. Four Snivvians surrounded a young man who was wielding, inexpertly, a length of pipe. His obviously expensive clothing was torn and dirty and he had a rather nasty cut over one eye. The Snivvians were taunting him as they circled, jostling for position and occasionally ducking under the clumsily swung pipe to land a blow. Namia was reminded of a pack of Nexu toying with their prey before they struck. One of the Snivvians ducked under a particularly clumsy blow and punched the man in the stomach. He crumpled to the ground in front of them. The four Snivvians moved in as one.

She watched them for a couple of seconds, trying to pick the leader and thinking of the best plan of attack. The two Jedi at least had the element of surprise on their side, so bringing this to a quick and painless end should be relatively easy.

From beside her there was a thump of bags and then the familiar snap hiss of an igniting lightsaber. Namia repressed another sigh as the four thugs turned to face them, the insignia for the Kouhun gang clearly emblazoned on their vests.

Note to self: teach her about how to use the element of surprise.

“Ah. Lookie here. The Jedi want to join us,” drawled the tallest Snivvian. Namia assumed he was their leader by the fact his insignia had better colours. Namia smiled.

“Sure. That’s what the Jedi Order is all about. Joining Swoop Gangs and terrorising innocent civilians. The whole creating peace and upholding civilisation across the galaxy is just a front.” Namia said smiling.

“Huh?” The shortest Snivvian said, obviously confused. The only thing it earnt him was a cuff across the head by the leader.

“They’re not Jedi,” another gang member, who Namia decided to nickname snaggle said tersely. “Jedi don’t go shopping. They’ve gone shopping.”

“If we’re not Jedi, what are these?” Kithera spoke up, her voice bright and cheerful as she gave an experimental twirl of the lightsaber.

“Toys,” Snaggle shot back. “Pretty toys to go with your dress ups. It’s Festival, a good time for dress ups.”

Behind the gang the young man struggled to his feet, coughing. The leader of the gang glanced over his shoulder at the young man and rolled his eyes. He turned back to the two Jedi.

“Stop arguing,” he said, drawing his blaster. “Just kill her.”

The fight was mercifully brief. Namia only had to deflect two of the blaster bolts before the Swoop Gang got the picture that it wasn’t just a set of brightly coloured toys they were wielding. Namia watched them leave and then walked over to where the young man was leaning up against the wall.

“You can drop the pipe now,” she said softly. “They’re gone.”

The pipe dropped to the floor with a clang that echoed down the alleyway. He smiled at her, even as tried to mop at the cut on his eyebrow with a lilly-white handkerchief.

“Thank you,” he said. “Although I’m sure I would have had them.” She reached out with the Force to find a swirl of relief and amusement. The Force ebbed and flowed around him in a way that drew her in. There was something in the wash of emotions that surrounded him that called to her like a moth to a flame.

“Definitely. I think it was the pipe not pulling its weight really.” Namia grinned. She took two steps towards him and reached out gently to take the handkerchief from his fingers. “Let me have a look at that for you.” She reached up and gently dabbed the cut above his eye, feeling the thrum of the Force twist and flow around them. She realised that he was staring at her and she blushed and dropped her hand.

“I didn’t realise I’d been rescued by a Jedi Healer,” he said softly and Namia felt her face flame hotter. She held out the edge of the handkerchief.

“Apologies. That was rather forward of me,” she said softly. There was a ripple of wry amusement tinged with something else that Namia couldn’t quite place.

“It’s quite alright. I didn’t realise that Jedi normally gave such a level of service,” he said softly, taking the handkerchief back and smiling at her. Namia noticed that his eyes were larger than what would be considered normal on a human and a strange mixture of brown, green and gold. “I appreciate you rescuing me very much.”

There was a pause as the two stared at each other and the snowflakes fell softly around them. After a minute, there was a shuffling noise of feet and then a quiet murmur.

“Yes padawan?” Namia asked, dragging her eyes away and turning slightly to see Kithera scuffing the toe of her boot into the walkway.

“We should go Master, before the gang returns. There’s some…ah” the girl paused and screwed up her nose as if trying to find the right words, “drum beats that I can’t quite place and they’re getting louder.”

Namia nodded and bent down to pick up the packages that the Swoop gang had spilt.

“What do I owe you?” The young man asked. Namia looked at him and laughed.

“Nothing. Rescuing people is what Jedi do,” Namia said. She could hear Kithera giggling quietly and frowned at her. Her apprentice immediately went quiet and dropped her eyes to the floor.

Damn Pynde-gard.

“I take it you’re not from Coruscant.”

The young man shook his head. “No, I’m just here for family reasons.” He stooped to help pick up the scattered presents. “My Aunt invited me. Perhaps you’ve heard of her. Her name is-”

“Um,” Kithera’s voice piped up again, “there are cymbals now. That means danger. We need to go, Master.”

“We’ll walk you to the transit hub,” Namia said smiling at the young man. She could feel the hunger of the approaching gang now swirling through the Force like a tidal wave. “We’re going to walk quickly but we’re definitely going to accompany you so there isn’t any more trouble.”

The young man blinked rapidly at the where Kithera was staring, her head cocked to one-side. His pupils kept dilating rapidly and Namia wondered for a second what he was doing. The next moment, he turned and smiled at her and she could feel a tinge of fear in the eddies of the Force.

“I would be very thankful for any assistance,” the young man said, picking up his packages. Namia glanced towards where Kithera was almost bouncing on the spot.

“Alright padawan,” she said, “lead the way.

They ran through the alley system, with Kithera keeping a constant commentary on how far away the music was, until they were out into the crowd again. Namia grinned at the young man who was now sweaty and out of breath. She led to him to one of the busier walkways full of people. It would be unlikely the swoop gang would follow then this far.

“That was quite fun,” he said with a grin. Namia stared at him and raised an eyebrow.

“The getting beaten up bit or the running away bit?” Namia asked. He blushed.

“Sorry, I just - I just don’t ever get to do anything exciting,” he said, still blushing. Namia grinned again. “Maybe I could take you somewhere for lunch? My treat?”

He stumbled over a crack in the pavement and groaned. Namia shook her head.

“Another time perhaps. I think you should get yourself treated,” she said raising a hand to hail an air-taxi. She opened the door for him as the air-taxi drew to a halt.

“Maybe I’ll see you again?” He asked as he slid inside, wincing as he moved.

“Perhaps,” Namia smiled. She reached out with the Force feeling the same swirl of emotions she had felt before, now undercut with the very obvious thrill of desire. She smiled at him. “Perhaps.”

 

Cute snapshot of Namia learning how to mom, though she's already a natural.

 

Sweet and fun look at the early days of Namia and Kithera's working/mentorship

 

Aww, thank you She's great at the caring part, but she's also going to let Kithera get away with waaaayyy too much by the time USJS CCC rolls around

Thank you It's fun going back and playing in the earlier universe stuff.

 

Short and sweet and then onto the romance!

***


Paramour #22 - Winter's Dream - part 2

“She didn’t even get his name!” Kithera said with an exaggerated sigh as she sat drinking another round of hoth chocolate in their apartment. Namia rolled her eyes and grinned over the girl’s head at her former Master who was sitting across the kitchen table from her apprentice. “He was all fancy too. Just being like ‘Thank you kindly’ and ‘so nice to have met such valiant Jedi’. He was very silly.”

Master Samukay grinned back at her.

“There are all types of people on Coruscant, padawan. Perhaps he’s on some type of mission.” Master Samukay said sipping his mug of caf.

The girl snorted. “He’s not doing a good job if he’s managed to get himself lost and beaten up by a Swoop gang,” she paused and stared at Master Samukay. “Did you know their symbol is the Kouhan? It’s not very scary.”

“The Kouhan is very dangerous. Many assassins use them in their work.” Master Samukay advised, giving her a bemused smile.

“It’s still a bug,” Kithera snorted derisively and took another sip from her mug. “Bugs are never dangerous.”

“Master, could I get a hand please?” Namia held out the little necklace. Master Samukay smiled and got up from the table and made his way to her.

“You look very pretty, as always my padawan,” he said as he fastened the tiny flame jewel necklace. “Is this to remind you of him?”

“This,” Namia said touching the jewel gently, “is because it’s the only piece of jewelry I own that goes with my dress.” She smoothed down the sides of her ball gown, hoping that the gesture would cover the lie. It was still about him. It was always about him. Her first love. The lost one. She glanced up to see Master Samukay regarding her seriously and she knew he’d seen through her falsehood.

“You look very pretty,” Kithera said scrunching her nose up as she smiled. The young girl’s eyes lit up. “Maybe you’ll meet that man from today at the ball!”

Namia shook her head. “Coruscant is a very big planet padawan. I don’t think I’m likely to meet him again.”

The girl nodded her head thoughtfully. Master Samukay smiled at her and then at Kithera.

“I’m sure your Master will make lots of new paramours,” he said. Namia scowled at him at the implication.

“I can promise you that I am not planning on adding to my list of friends tonight Master,” she said pointedly. She picked up her clutch and looked at her padawan. “Now, do everything Master Samukay says.” She turned to her Master. “Make sure she goes to bed at a reasonable hour Gerald.”

“We have a great night planned. Some fighting, then some meditation.” He glanced at Kithera who was making a face. “Then some sitting still practice. Then more meditation and then-”

“Are you sure I can’t come with you master?” Kithera asked. “I promise to be as quiet as a mouse.”

“No padawan,” Namia said softly, “maybe when you’re a bit older. Then we will do everything together, I promise.”

“And don’t worry kiddo. I’m not going to make you meditate all night,” Master Samukay said, “I was thinking we could make Sweet-sand cookies and then watch a Holovid.”

Kithera’s face lit up.

“Don’t spoil her too much Master,” Namia warned. Master Samukay shrugged.

“That’s my job as the kiddo’s grand-master,” he said grinning. Namia shook her head and ducked out of the apartment. As she closed the door, she heard Kithera’s voice pipe up.

“Master Samukay, what’s a paramour?”

 

Loved the teasing and ... naturally Kithera would ask that at the end

 

Oh, this was delightful!

Hmm, maybe at some point in the current USJS we can have Kithera teasingly call Master Samukay "Grandpa Gerald"? Just a thought.

 

And oh boy, she can certainly do that and the exchange students and everyone else will be saying: "There's a great story behind this. Do tell!"

 

Thank you. Also, yes, now that you've said it, it's going to have to happen!

Probably while they're drunk and being told off. Poor Samukay isn't going to get a break at all...

 

I swear we will get to the romance! I swear! Also, I went back and added a bit to the end of Chapter 1, just so that it flows better and doesn't end quite so abruptly.

Finally, Tara is from another Universe I used to write in ( @Jemmiah's Hell's Chance Cantina story), which frequently overlapped with The USJS universe. I figured that Tara needed a new lease on life, so she's coming across as one of Namia's friends.

*
Paramour #22 - Winter's Dream - part 3

Namia smoothed the creases of her ball gown and fixed a pleasant smile on her face. She could hear the noise of the party before she even stepped foot inside the ballroom. Festival Balls were a Coruscant tradition where the rich and powerful, and those who aspired to be so, danced and partied the evening away in the ballroom of the most luxurious hotel on the planet.

“They let you go?” A familiar voice asked from behind her. Namia spun around, a huge smile on her face. Her best friend, Tara Tarindae, was standing near the door, looking very formal and very out of place in her Jedi robes. Namia smoothed her dress again and headed towards her friend. “And they let you wear that dress.” Tara continued, eyebrows raised as Namia reached her.

Namia blushed slightly and played with the tassled hem of her shawl. She glanced up at Tara whose white, sightless eyes were firmly fixed over her left shoulder. Namia’s own eyes narrowed.

“How did you know I was wearing a dress?” she asked.

“I can hear your heels. Last time I checked they weren’t part of the dress code.”

“I could be wearing a suit,” Namia said smiling.

“Suits don’t russell. Knowing how much effort you put into being allowed to go to this thing, I figured you’d go all out.” Tara’s said wryly. “Either way it’s got to be better than this.” She motioned at her own outfit. “Although I imagine I’m much more comfortable. Also far more ready for combat.”

“You need to be ready for combat?” Namia asked, confused.

Tara shrugged. “You never know. If there was a fight though, I’m not sure how much use you would be tonight.”

“Because I’m wearing a dress?” Namia asked with raised eyebrows.

“They aren’t exactly known for their maneuverability.”

“I don’t know, you should ask Mace and Qui-Gon about fighting in a dress someday,” Namia said, taking her friend’s arm as they turned towards the doors of The Elite Hotel’s ballroom.

“Duly noted,” Tara said, smiling mischievously, “I shall have to ask them.”

“Let me know what they say,” Namia said, patting her friend’s arm before quickly changing the subject. “You didn’t tell me why you’re here. Normally the Jedi don’t send an official representative to these events.”

“That is very true, although tonight there seems to be two of us.”

“There is. I know why I’m here. Why are you here? This isn’t your normal scene.” Namia said thinking about the Tara she knew who was far happier in an archive or on some far flung planet then buddying up to nobles.

“Officially or unofficially?” Tara asked laughing. “Officially, I’m here to rattle the tin and see what poor Senator’s wife I can convince to have a word in her husband’s ear. Anything to make sure the Chancellor passes the bills we need for our budget. I think that the Council, or at least certain members,” Tara made a face, “believe that if people see this,” she motioned to the scar that crossed her face, the one that had robbed her of her sight, “they will assume it was from a battle and be reminded that the Jedi risk their lives to ensure intergalactic peace. Then they’ll put their hands in their pockets and we’ll have enough money for that new wing of the archive I’ve been begging for.”

“And unofficially?”

“There was a rumour that Edlyn Ghost was going to be here. Having things stolen at a ball doesn’t go down well with the aristocracy. So the Chancellor asked for assistance and the Council sent me. Not sure how much a blind Jedi is going to be useful when it comes to spotting a thief, but here I am.”

“You are still far more capable than most Jedi of your age and experience.” Namia pointed out.

Tara gave a hollow laugh. “ You are too kind. Although I can’t complain too much. I don’t think Edlyn will show and it gets me out of the Temple. I get to eat and drink and be completely bored out of my skull by conversations about the rust that is affecting this year’s crop of meiloorun or something equally inane.” She grinned at Namia. “Bonus is that now I get to do all of this while knowing my best friend is turning heads on the other side of the room.”

Namia said nothing as she quietly handed over her bag and shawl to the attendant and noted that Tara wasn’t asked for her lightsabre even though there were signs reminding guests that all weapons needed to be stored securely.

“I just hope that my theory is correct,” Namia said, suddenly nervous. She bit the inside of her lip and felt Tara squeeze her hand again.

“This is the theory you’ve been spouting for the last two years? Right? The one about the fact that people are more likely to talk when the Jedi isn’t wearing the robes? The one that Mace always rolls his eyes about.”

“That’s the one,” Namia’s eyes narrowed at the memory. “You should have seen him in the Council Chamber’s Tara. He tried to argue that I needed to wear the robes because that’s what people respect.”

“He’s not wrong,” Tara pointed out quietly. The two Jedi joined the queue of people waiting for their entry to be announced.

“He’s not right either. The point is that they won’t talk around the robes. They’re too scared of what the tan and white represents.”

“But you’re not a Shadow. You don’t get to deny what you are. They will literally announce that you are a Jedi.” Tara said quietly.

“Yes,” Namia puffed out of her cheeks in frustration, “but then they’ll forget. They’ll drink and they’ll forget and then they’ll talk. It’s how we’ll get the low down on anything before it happens. Why can’t the Council see that?”

“The Council or Mace?” Tara asked. There was silence as the two young women moved forward in the queue. “I believe you,” Tara said quietly, “I just sometimes think that the Council doesn’t know what to do with you. Or your new padawan for that matter.”

Namia coloured again. “Kithera is a delight, but I get the feeling that she’s going to be the death of me.”

“You think?” Tara said, “she almost knocked down one of the statues in the Lesser Hall this morning before first class, simply because someone told her she was too small to make it to the top.”

“Was she with Jazz?’ Namia asked with a grimace.

“No, she was with T’lor and friends again. And before you ask, yes she made it to the top. It was the getting back down that got her into trouble.”

Namia bit back a sigh and the sudden desire to just turn around and go home. She hadn’t heard about her padawan’s latest escapade. Kithera hadn’t told her about it when they’d gone out shopping together. If it had been as bad as Tara was hinting, she’d probably get a communique about it tomorrow. Hopefully it wouldn’t be bad enough to land them both before the Council.

“It’s tomorrow’s problem,” Tara said as if reading her mind. “Tonight you just need to make sure that you enjoy yourself and keep your ear to the ground. I’m sure there are going to be many eligible young men and young women who will be very grateful to tell you anything.”

Tara smiled at Namia again and let go of her arm as the man at the head of the stairs announced her name and title to the assembled crowd. Tara smiled at her and turned, the epitome of grace and poise as she made her way down the stairs. Despite the loss of vision, Tara navigated the room easily with the Force. Although, Namia noted, people parted when they saw her, giving her an easy path through the crowd.

The robe effect. She thought grimly to herself. She straightened and smiled again as the announcer called her name. Then, gathering the side of her skirt with one hand, she made her way down the stairs and out into the waiting crowd.

 

Fun talk between Namia and Tara and interesting points of view about the effect of the obvious Jedi outfit Tara's back-story sounds very intriguing

 

Glad you like it and yeah, Tara's backstory is very interesting and one day I'll get around to writing in a bit more detail than the random half-written first chapter I have on my computer. I think the Jedi and exchange students should experience the robe effect when they eventually all sneak out of the Temple for a bit of fun.

***

Onto the romance part - although I'll be the first to admit that I really, really struggled with the romance part.

****
Paramour #22 - Winter's Dream - part 4


“Lady Namia!”

Namia turned, a genuine smile replacing the forced, polite smile she’d been holding.

“Duchess!” Namia took two quick steps towards the older lady who stood waiting. Hands outstretched in greeting, Duchess Sybilla was resplendent in a black and silver ball gown. It had been nine years since Namia, Qui-Gon, Mace, and Taeyn had saved the life of the princess of Klaniton and her ladies in waiting, including the Duchess. Even though so many years had passed, the Duchess still kept in touch. It had been her and Princess Katya, now Queen, who had obtained a ticket for Namia to attend this particular ball.

“Are you enjoying the evening?” Sybilla asked as she kissed Namia in greeting.

“Sure,” Namia said, hoping her voice sounded more upbeat than she felt. So far the evening hadn’t been worth the fight for permission with the Council. People had definitely been more willing to talk, but a lot of what they had to say hadn’t been the planet shattering information she had been hoping for. Infighting, potential trade deals and gossip about the love lives of the rich and famous was all she had encountered. Nothing that couldn’t have been gained while wearing her robes. She hoped Tara was having more luck, although of Edlyn Ghost there had been no sign.

“I’m sure your luck will change, the party has only been going for an hour or two,” the Duchess said reassuringly, squeezing Namia's hand. She stood back for a second and made a show of looking at Namia’s outfit. “Are you trialling a new Jedi robe?”

Namia laughed as the old lady’s eyes glittered in mirth.

“No Duchess, I can’t see ball gowns becoming a thing for the discerning Jedi. No place to put your lightsaber.”

“Oh, I suppose that is something that Jedi need to consider, ” she grinned. “A shame really, I always thought you were a striking girl in your robes, but out of them you’re quite divine.”

“How is your evening?” Namia said quickly, trying to cover for the heat that was rising in her face.

“It’s good, although it’ll be much better once I have my glass refilled,” the Duchess said smiling and waving an empty glass in the air. “A young gentleman offered to get me another glass because what I like to drink isn’t being carried around by one of these lovely young service staff, but he’s been gone a while now. Which is a pity, I was hoping to introduce the two of you. He had a rather interesting encounter with a Jedi this morning.”

“Oh?” Namia said, spotting Tara on the far side of the room. Her friend was deep in conversation with what looked like the trade Ambassador for Hosnian.

//Having fun?// she sent over their bond.

//Thrilled. At least there is free alcohol//

//How much have you had this evening?//

//Not enough//

Namia watched as the Ambassador said something and Tara smiled grimly before bowing and heading back into the crowd. The Ambassador looked slightly flustered for a second before turning on his heel and walking away.

//That looks like it went well// Namia raised an eyebrow.

//He tried to proposition me//

//Ouch. What did you say?//

//I enquired after his wife//

“Oh there you are!” the Duchess’ voice dragged Namia’s attention back to the here and now. She looked up to see the Duchess take a glass of dark green liquid from the hand of a young man who had his back to her.

“Lady Namia, let me introduce you to-” the Duchess started as the young man turned around. She found herself looking into the same, strangely coloured eyes of the man she’d met that morning. He still had a bruise around his eye, although someone had seen to the cut, it was now just a thin brown line that neatly dissected his eyebrow. He gave her a roguish smile and heat instantly flushed through her cheeks.

“It’s you,” he said quietly. Namia found herself unable to look away from his amber coloured eyes.

“It’s you too,” she replied, feeling her heart hammer in her chest. He was giving off a strange roil of emotions that she couldn’t place, but she found her body responding on its own.

//You alright?// Tara interjected over their bond. It was enough to shock Namia out of her strange, other-worldly feeling.

//Fine. Just - never mind - I’ll tell you later//

“I take it you two have met,” the Duchess said bemusedly.

“She’s the - uh - Jedi that rescued me this morning,” the young man said and blushed. The Duchess’ smile widened and Namia suddenly wondered how he had described her.

“Lady Namia is quite good at rescuing people,” the Duchess said, taking a sip of the dark green drink he had handed her. She was obviously enjoying herself. “But I think you were quite modest in your description.”

“Yes - uh - well - uh - I - uh,” Namia tried, internally cursing the fact that her mouth seemed unable to work properly.

“And you’ve rendered her speechless, now that’s quite a feat young man,” the Duchess took another sip of her drink.

“I didn’t realise you were a Lady,” the young man said, obviously keeping his composure far better than she was. Namia felt her face get hotter. This was not how this was supposed to go. She was supposed to be playing politics, not losing her composure at the first attractive young man who crossed her path.

“I’m not,” she stammered, “Jedi take no titles.”

“You are a Lady,” the Duchess said and then turned to the young man. “Lady Namia is an honorary lady of Klaniton. She, and her friends, were responsible for saving the life of myself and the princess. For a Jedi, she can acquit herself quite well when fighting only with a fan.”

“Only with a fan?” The young man’s face was a picture of confusion. “Don’t Jedi still have lightsabers or lightswords or something?”

“We had no lightsabers, they didn’t fit with our disguises,” Namia said quietly, “it’s a long story.”

“It’s an interesting story,” the Duchess corrected, “she was the only girl there in a party of boys. The Bridal shower is an event for only women, so they were all dressed as girls. When we were attacked they fought back with whatever they had to hand. Lady Namia here defeated at least four with only a fan.”

Namia shook her head, desperate to regain control of the conversation before it went too far. “It was only one. Also having the Force is an advantage regardless of the weapons you may or may not have.”

“You should have seen her,” the Duchess said, ignoring Namia’s interjection. She grabbed a wine off a passing tray. “She ripped her own skirts off so that she could fight better.”

“Did she?” the young man was staring at her. Namia closed her eyes wishing that the Duchess would stop. “I think I would have liked to have seen that?”

Namia’s eyes flicked open and she gave him her best arched look. The young man blushed again, going red to the roots of his brown air. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he stammered. “I meant, I would have liked to have seen you fight. That’s all I meant - I - I mean with a fan. Not in your underwear - I…” he trailed away, his blush deepening to a dark red. Another waitress passed by and his face lit up. “Could I get you a drink?”

“That would be wonderful. Thank you,” Namia said, pleased that they’d both been given an out. The young man took two thin glasses of shimmering alcohol and offered one to Namia. She took it with a smile and sipped it, feeling the warm, cinnamon flavours dance across her tongue. She glanced across at Duchess Sybilla who was regarding them both with a wicked smile of her own. Namia raised an eyebrow and then deliberately turned her attention back to the young man.

“I am glad to see that you have recovered from this morning’s ordeal,” she said quietly. The young man ducked his head, and Namia could see the rising tide of pink again.

“I’m lucky that you and your padawan were there,” he replied and then looked around, “is she here?”

Namia shook her head. “She’s too young. I left her at home drinking hoth chocolate.”

“Hmmph, I was hoping to meet her,” Duchess Sybilla said loudly, “you’ll have to introduce me before I leave the planet, Namia. I simply must meet your padawan.”

“I promise Duchess that I will introduce you tomorrow. Maybe afternoon tea in the Festival precinct?”

“Definitely,” the older woman declared. She grinned and winked at Namia. “You’ll have to fill me in on all your other adventures.” The old woman looked around and then waved to someone across the room. “I’ve just spotted Baron Klatch. You’ll have to excuse me, but I have to simply see the old man before he nips home.” She winked again, “have fun you too. I’ll see you and your precious padawan tomorrow Namia.”

Namia bowed her head slightly before remembering that she was supposed to curtsey. “I am looking forward to it, your ladyship.”

“Very good,” Lady Sybilla rescued another glass of wine from a passing waiter and then nodded her head to the young man. “It was good to meet you too, Prince Aeolyn, please give my regards to your mother.”

The young man bowed as the old woman turned on her heel and strode across the room. Namia rounded on the young man.

“You’re a prince?”

 

Oh, @Kit' I loved that whole discombobulated scene. That "Dis Dis Dress" adventure was too hilarious and it doesn't lose any of it in the retelling. Lady Sybella was getting a charge out of the sparks between Namia and Aeolyn.

And the last line, perfectly tropish LOL

 

This is such a fun read and a wonderful response to the challenge!

Awww. I like how Namia realizes her and Kithera's relationship is different from her relationship with her own master, and how she reassures Kit here. And the whole rescue sequence was so great!

This was such a sweet chapter!

I love Namia's arrival at the ball, and the banter and friendship between her and Tara!

Oh dear! Kit is quite the adventurer.

Oh, I feel that! Another wonderful chapter, and I have to echo @WarmNyota_SweetAyesha in saying the last line is perfectly trope-y! Love it, and great job!

 

I'm so glad you enjoyed it! Lady Sybilla turned out to be quite a troll (I'd like to think of her as your very drunk aunt at a party who's lost all ability to reign in her tongue) but it's coming from a place of genuine care and concern - she's just also enjoying Namia's discomfort while she's at it.

Thank you Their relationship is very different and will continue to grow (hopefully) as more of the stuff gets added to Kit and Namia's younger years.

Yeah, it started early. I think her catch phrase when she was young is "watch me!" as in

An adult: "You can't do this."
Kit: "Watch me."

Also Kit spying something ridiculous to do. "Watch me!"

I'm so glad you enjoyed it! Now I've just got to get up the courage to write some romance...which isn't something I'm very good at.

 

This is the first romance scene (proper romance) that I've written for a very long time. While Kit and Del have some romantic scenes, they're brief and alluded to rather than in depth. This turned out to be a bit of a behemoth.

Concrit is definitely welcome for this. Please let me know if I actually managed to make something even slightly romantic..


****
Paramour #22 - Winter's Dream - part 5

“I am.” He had, she noticed, the courtesy to blush. He seemed to do that a lot, Namia noticed. His already pale skin had pink undertones and any embarrassment seemed to make him flush. It was somehow adorably cute and intriguing. For an instant she wondered if when he was embarrassed it was only his face that turned pink.

Namia shook her head. Thoughts like that weren’t becoming of a Jedi. Even a Jedi with her reputation. After the disappointing night she’d had so far, to find out that he was a prince, seemed like the icing on the cake. She could hear the teasing now - saved a prince and didn’t know it. Went to the ball. Met a young man who did nothing but blush. Fell in lo-

Namia bit the inside of her lip until it hurt to stop the thought before it could continue. She hadn’t fallen in anything. There was no attraction here of any lasting quality. Definitely no attraction after spending less than five minutes in someone’s company. Definitely never as as a Jedi.

“I’m sorry for not introducing myself properly,” Prince Aeolyn said, mistaking her look. “I hope I have not offended you.”

“Not at all,” Namia said, plastering a smile on her face. “It just took me by surprise that’s all.”

“Oh,” he said and smiled again, his cheeks colouring further. “I was worried that I had done the wrong thing. I’m relatively new to the planet and I have to admit that you are the first Jedi I have ever met. It wasn’t exactly a great introduction this morning. Being beaten up on your first day on planet and having to be saved isn’t exactly how I like to introduce myself. I was a little worried that it would mean that you would not want to spend more time in my company. That would be a pity if you didn’t.”

Namia felt the flush of heat rise through her own cheeks. The way he spoke, in such a formal manner made her knees weak. It shouldn’t, not seeing as she’d spent so much time around political soirees when she was younger, but for some reason that and the way he seemed rather shy and easily flustered drew her like a moth to the flame. The young man flagged one of the wait staff down and placed his glass on their empty tray.

“May I?” he asked, holding out a hand to take Namia’s glass. She nodded, unable to stop staring at his face and the fact that his golden eyes were framed by the most ridiculously long, dark lashes. This was silly, she told herself. As he took the glass gently, his fingers brushed hers. Namia felt a tingle run from his touch across her hand and a heat grow deep in her belly.

Namia closed her eyes briefly and started reciting the Jedi code in her head.

There is no emotion, there is peace…
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge…
There is no passion…

Her eyes flicked open to find Aeolyn regarding her silently. She took in his bluish, black hair, his lopsided smile and strangely coloured eyes. She felt

There is no passion…

She realised that she was staring. She glanced away, trying to find Tara in the crowd. Her friend would anchor her back to reality.

There is no passion...

In the corner the band began to play. Prince Aeolyn held out his hand and gave her a rather shy smile.

“Do Jedi dance?” he asked. Namia nodded, butterflies doing somersaults in her stomach. .

“They do, it’s part of our schooling when we are younger. I would not say I’m very good though. ”

“Then we will match,” Aeolyn said and gave another smile that made her breath catch in her throat. He took her hand and she felt the strange swirl of emotions again wrap themselves around her.

There is no passion...There is no passion...no passion.

She swallowed hard.

She was used to attraction, it was part of being alive, but she didn’t need to feel it here. She certainly wasn’t supposed to feel like this as a Jedi, and about someone she’d only just met.

He led her onto the dancefloor and nestled his hand into the small of her back. She was acutely aware of how the warmth of his hand spread through her dress.

“What brings you to Coruscant?” she asked, trying to drag her attention back to the here and now. It was hard though. It was a weird thing to note, her brain pointed out, but he smelt amazing. Like citrus and woodsmoke with mint and honey. It was almost overwhelming, and it was driving her to distraction.

“I’m here to escort my sister home,” he said and glanced sideways. Namia followed his gaze to where a pretty, young woman was talking to a group of much older gentlemen. She had light pink skin and strikingly blue hair. Namia looked back at Aeolyn and frowned in bewilderment.

“Half sister,” Aeolyn corrected, giving a wry smile. “She’s been studying at Coruscant and I was sent to escort her home for the Festival holiday.”

“Surely she’s old enough to escort herself,” Namia said watching the young woman giggle and flirt with the older men. She glanced at Aeolyn who suddenly looked rather uncomfortable. The hand on her back slipped slightly and Namia shifted trying to move it back to its former position.

“I would have a tendency to agree, but sometimes my sister is rather pig-headed. I’m sure you can understand.”

Namia gave a wry grin. “Jedi don’t have family.”

“Oh, I didn’t realise, I mean-I didn’t…” he started, his face going pink again. She found herself smiling and his blush deepened. There was something so strangely attractive about someone whose emotions showed so easily on their face. Maybe it was because she spent so much of her time letting go of her own emotions and trying to find the hidden emotions in others, that suddenly, having this person who apparently couldn’t hide it at all was so very fascinating.

“It’s okay. I mean we have to have families, I must have come from somewhere, right?” Namia said realising that she was talking way too fast. “It’s just that I don’t know my family.”

Aeolyn smiled shyly. “You must think me some sort of backwater nerf farmer. I am afraid my only knowledge of Jedi comes from holovids.”

Namia laughed in delight. “In that case I must be a tremendous disappointment.”

“Not really,” Aeolyn said quietly, meeting her gaze. Namia felt like she could disappear in those eyes and fall forever. “I mean although my pride has taken a fall, I got saved by a beautiful Jedi and now I get to express my thanks.” He took a step back as the music came to an end and regarded her. He looked up, a tiny smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. “I have to admit that the outfit is a bit of a surprise though.”

Namia looked down at the skirts of her dress and then back at Aeolyn. “Think of it as me being undercover. That’s something Jedi do in holovids isn’t it?”

They walked back to the edge of the crowd. Even

“I will have to keep your secret then,” Aeolyn said, winking conspiratorially. Namia laughed, feeling suddenly giddy.

“I’m sure Lady Sybilla has told everyone already.”

“Yes, she is rather forthright, our Lady Sybilla,” Aeolyn said laughing. Namia closed her eyes briefly again, trying to push away the feelings that he was creating. She took a deep breath to steady herself, but only managed to breathe in his heady scent.

“How do you know her?” Namia asked, smiling, trying to distract herself from what her body was doing. “I mean you know how we met.”

“It’s a story I’m unlikely to forget,” Aeolyn said grinning, “a Jedi fighting in their underwear.” He had relaxed, she noticed. Now he blushed less and smiled and laughed more.

“It wasn’t as lascivious as all that,” Namia said, returning the smile and noticing how his shirt had fallen open at the collar. She tore her eyes away. She was here for work, not pleasure. She tried not to pay attention to the myriad of rather more intimate thoughts that floated through her mind as she forced herself to focus back on the here and now.

“Did Lady Sybilla give you that necklace for your bravery?” Aeolyn asked quietly, pointing to the flame jewell and ignoring her question. “I thought Jedi eschewed all physical possessions.”

“That would make clothing rather hard,” Namia said and watched as the young man blushed again. She giggled in delight, and tried to ignore the butterflies doing tricks in her stomach.

“I mean. That’s what the holovids say.” Aeolyn said, reaching out and touching it gently. Heat flooded through her. She was suddenly torn between wanting to run and wanting to step into his embrace. Aeolyn must have noticed her discomfort because he smiled, but dropped his hand. “They say that a Jedi should have no attachments. That they cannot love or bond with someone. I figured that went with things like jewelry as well.”

Namia frowned. The rational thinking part of her brain, the bit that was only just working wondered where he was heading. She reached up and briefly touched the flame jewel. He, her lost love, had given it to her as a sign of all the things that Jedi were apparently not supposed to do. The things that she was doing again, right now. She took a small step back but her stomach roiled at the anxious look that flitted across his face.

“Attachment doesn’t mean that Jedi have no feelings, or that they need to live a perfectly chaste life,” she said softly. There was a pause. Then it passed and Namia suddenly found herself regretting it, even though nothing had even happened.

“My Lady, may I request the pleasure of the next dance?” A voice sounded over her shoulder and Namia turned, startled out of her reverie. A lanky Hrakian was offering his hand. Namia turned to Aeolyn who smiled.

“I’m sure we will meet again,” he said softly. Namia could see Lady Sybilla in the distance pointing him out to an older woman. She curtsied slightly.

“I would like that.”

“I’m glad. I will hold you to that promise,” Aeolyn said. “I am very interested to find out what else the holovids got wrong about Jedi.”

Namia felt her breath quicken. There seemed to be so much more to that statement than just a simple pleasantry. All she could do was give him a tiny smile as tall Hrakian led her back onto the floor.

What followed was a whirlwind evening of talking, dancing and drinking. Namia lost count of how many people she danced with. It was like Aeolyn had unlocked some secret door. She passed from hands to hands, laughing and chatting as she did so. Mouths opened and secrets spilled as she danced, and people seemed to be far more willing to talk than they had at the beginning of the night. Namia found herself looking for Aeolyn, but apart from one or two glimpses of him on the edge of the crowd, he was nowhere to be found.

It was probably for the best, she decided. The way he had made her feel was unbecoming for a Jedi at best. She had never held that Jedi needed to be chaste and untouchable in order to cling to the lightside. That, she had always thought, was counterproductive to what a Jedi was. Jedi needed emotions, they just couldn’t let their emotions hold them captive. The music came to an end and she smiled at her partner, touching the flame jewel at her neck.

Was that holding her captive? Still wearing all these years after he had disappeared? Was that breaking her Jedi vows? She shook her head and bit the inside of her lip again. Tonight wasn’t the night for thinking about lost loves and Jedi vows, tonight was for -

“May I have the next dance with the Lady?”

Namia turned around, a huge smile on her face.

“Tara!”

Her friend was smiling at her. She was holding two glasses of drink and offered one to Namia.

“Have you had enough alcohol now?” Namia asked, smiling as she accepted the glass. The whole evening had taken on an unreal quality, a sort of dream life existence.

Tara nodded. “I think this glass will be sufficient,” Tara said with a laugh and then sobered. “Although if I have to talk about crop blight on Akiva one more time then I will quite happily drown myself in that barrel of Sunberry wine.” She motioned at a thick, copper ringed open barrel that sat near the drinks table. “I take it your evening has been better.”

“It has certainly taken a turn for the better, yes.”

“Did you dance?” Tara asked. “All I could feel over our bond was you having fun.” Tara’s face turned away for a second and then back to Namia.

“We can dance, if you would like,” Namia said quietly, placing her glass back down on a nearby table.

“I can’t dance,” Tara said, “I can’t see the steps, or the people. Besides, is it seemly for a Jedi to dance?”

“I’m dancing,” Namia shrugged.

“You’re not a Jedi tonight, remember?” Tara said wryly, “particularly not a Jedi with what I also felt over the bond.” Namia scowled briefly at her friend. Tara shrugged, smiling. “I won’t judge you and I won’t tell. We’ve shared too much, you and I for me to ever judge you.”

“Then shall we dance?” Namia asked, feeling the heat rise through her cheeks. Tara was one Jedi she could never hide things from. They’d been friends for far too long, and more than friends far too briefly.

“As long as you lead, I will follow,” Tara said the seriousness of the previous moment having been swiftly forgotten.

“I don’t think I’ve ever led you anywhere.”

“Only into trouble.” Both of them giggled.

“Did you find Edlyn Ghost?” Namia asked. Tara gave a small shrug.

“I have some ideas, but I need to speak to one more person.” Tara paused and took another sip of her drink. “Actually, I wonder if you’ve seen her. Blue hair.”

“I think that’s Aeolyn’s sister,” Namia said and then blushed at Tara’s frown. “The man that I saved earlier today. His name is Aeolyn.”

“Oh, the one that’s been making the bond light up like a Festival tree,” Tara grinned. Namia punched her friend playfully and wrinkled her nose.

“Yes, that’s the one. He’s a prince and very lovely.”

“I’m sure.”

“Anyway,” Namia said, ignoring the way her friend was looking at her. “His sister is over there if you need to speak to her. Talking with the Mon Calamari ambassador.”

“I thank you,” Tara said smiling. She finished her glass and then gave Namia a wink. “Enjoy your evening.” She motioned behind Namia and bowed slightly. “I think your Prince is waiting for you.”

Namia turned slightly to see Aeolyn standing awkwardly at a nearby table. Namia half turned back, but Tara was already making her way across the hall towards the Mon Calamari and Aeolyn’s sister. The crowds parted easily in front of her.

Aeolyn made his way towards her and Namia found breathing difficult. Her stomach felt like it was filled with butterflies. Aeolyn smiled at her and Namia smiled back, suddenly shy.

“I didn’t want to interrupt you and your friend,” he said apologetically. “Although I am a little concerned that a Jedi wants to talk to my sister.” He stared over Namia’s shoulder. “Maybe I should-”

“Knight Tarindae will not bite,” Namia said, suddenly worried he would leave again. “I can promise that your sister is in no danger.

“I’m more worried about your friend,” Aeolyn replied. He grinned and shook his head. “No matter. As you said earlier, my sister is old enough to look after herself.”

“Did you have fun this evening?” Namia asked, “I saw you talking to Lady Sybilla’s friend.”

“Ah, yes.” Aeolyn coloured again. “The Lady Chytil is rather interesting, I have to admit. I although not as interesting and fascinating as you.”

There was another pregnant pause and Namia felt the heat grow again. She went to repeat the Jedi Mantra, but stopped herself and frowned. What was the point of denying the Living Force? If she and Aeolyn were being thrown together then there must be a reason for it. Why stop what the Force desired?

“I was thinking about leaving for the night,” he said, breaking the silence. Namia's heart dropped, wondering how she’d got it so wrong. He looked down at the floor and back up at her, his face colouring bright pink. “I was wondering. Would it be too forward if…” He paused and she could see he was sweating and his hands were shaking.

“Yes,” she found herself answering the unasked question, “I would love to.”

 

Delicious! Very.

 

Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Now Namia gets to deal with the aftermath...

*


Namia rolled over in the early morning light and stretched her hand across the bed. The warm body she was expecting wasn’t there, instead the hollow in the bed was cold and the covers flung back. She sat up, instantly awake, dragging the twisted bed sheets up to cover her chest.

She was alone.

Namia sighed in exasperation and flung herself back on the bed. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Their relationship wasn’t really a relationship at all. It wasn’t like she expected four dozen Jade Roses and breakfast in bed. She was, however, expecting that he would at least still be there.

Namia rolled onto her side and wondered how she was going to explain the whole of the previous evening’s escapade to the Council. She got away with many things that she knew she probably shouldn’t but going back to a Prince’s room was probably the most blatant one.

A slip of folded synth-paper left on the top of the side table caught her eye. She reached over and grabbed, unfolding it and blinking blearily at the neat cursive that graced the note.

Apologies sweet Lady. I have to leave for a family emergency. The room is paid for. Breakfast is on me. Hopefully we will cross paths again someday.
- Aeolyn.

Namia screwed up the paper and sat up in bed, swinging her legs over the side. She reached for where she’d put her necklace the night before.

It was gone.

Her breath hitched in her throat.

Maybe it had fallen off the table. That had to be it. She’d just bumped it off.

Sweat beaded her forehead. She slid off the bed and knelt down to look underneath it.

It wasn’t there.

Everything in her vision narrowed with the realisation that his necklace was gone. Breathing suddenly hurt and she felt like she couldn’t draw in enough breath. The rational part of her brain screamed that this wasn’t Jedi like, but her body ignored her.

How would she explain what had happened? Had he taken it? Maybe it had fallen somewhere else. She could run after him, but all she had to wear was her ballgown. That wasn’t going to work. Maybe it was still here. Maybe she was mistaken. She couldn’t have lost it.

Namia reached out her senses but she was too scattered. All that met her through the Force was a wash of mixed emotions of those in the surrounding rooms. She kept trying, as she struggled to get herself under control. It didn’t work. The Force slipped through her grasp. She sat back on her haunches, feeling the prickle of sweat along her hairline.

The necklace had gone.

She shivered. The necklace only mattered to her. It wasn’t a Temple heirloom or anything. It certainly wasn’t worth anything. Except to her. To her it meant everything.

She took a shuddering breath. Jedi weren’t supposed to form attachments, so why was she reacting like this? She repeated the Jedi mantra over and over again in her head. It was enough to slow her breathing and stop her chest aching.

She trembled as she picked up the comms link and dialed the number. It took her four goes to get it right. When the dazed and sleepy voice answered, Namia suddenly found herself without words. She managed, eventually, to stammer out a few short syllables. The call ended and she sat back down on the edge of the bed, trying to find her centre and release her feelings to the Force

Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply just as she’d done since she was an initiate. She concentrated on each part of her body and the feeling of the muscles, letting the tension go as her heart and breathing slowly went back to normal. The worries that had consumed her only seconds before now became nothing more than fleeting whispers that flitted through her mind and then disappeared.

A minute later she opened her eyes and glanced around the room again. She felt foolish. Jedi weren’t supposed to lose their composure. They were certainly not supposed to panic at losing a simple necklace. She shook her head and bit the inside of her bottom lip in frustration. Another thing to add to the list of things she wouldn’t be explaining to the Council..

She sighed and dropped her shoulders, trying to release the tension that had coursed through her head and neck. It would be alright. The cavalry was coming and they would sort it out. In the meantime she could shower and get room service.

If Prince Aeolyn had skipped out on her and stolen her necklace, then buying her breakfast before she retrieved her possession, was really the least that he could do.

 

Oh... consequences indeed

 

Thank you for reading... Definitely consequences for Namia and for Aeolyn too...

*

Paramour #22 - Winter's Dream - part 6

“I see your taking advantage of breakfast,” Tara said as Namia opened the door, uneaten toast in hand. She had wrapped herself in one of the fluffy hotel robes; her hair still slightly damp from the shower.

Namia shrugged. “Don’t see why I shouldn’t. He’s paying for the room and I’m hungry. Do you want some?”

“Sure,” Tara said, plucking the piece of toast from Namia’s hands and tossing her a bundle of clothes. Namia smiled at her friend and headed for the fresher.

“How did you get here so fast?” Namia asked, as she stripped off the robe and got changed. “I figured it would take you longer with having to go get clothes and stuff.”

“By the time I got to your apartment Master Samukay was waiting. He had this all ready to go. He said to tell y-”
“Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know what he said,” Namia replied, wincing as she imagined her former Master’s curt words and look.

“Fine.” There was the clink of crockery from the hotel room, “I can smell panna cakes. Did you get panna cakes?”

“Yes, and I haven’t touched them yet. You can have them.”

“Thanks.”

There was the sound of furniture being moved, more clinking cutlery and then a contented sigh.

“Better than refectory food?” Namia asked through the slightly opened door.

“Always,” Tara said but it was muffled by what Namia assumed was a mouthful of food. Namia tied her obi and straightened the tabard that lay beneath it. Even though the ball gown had been fun, there was something comforting about traditional robes.

She might rail against them to the Council, but they were comfortably familiar. Somehow wearing them made this morning more bearable and the last shreds of panic slowly disappeared. Namia headed back into the main room, plaiting her long, dark brown hair. She grinned at her friend who was inhaling panna cakes like she hadn’t eaten in years. Tara looked up as Namia passed by and swiped a bowl of fruit off the tray.

“They good?” Namia asked, pulling out the room chair sitting down on it.

“Best ones I’ve eaten in a long time,” Tara said, finishing a mouthful. “Should we order some more?”

“We should get going,” Namia said, picking out a piece of fruit and popping it in her mouth. “I think if we stay too long then Prince Aeolyn, or whoever he is, will make his escape.”

“He’s definitely a Prince,” Tara said, pouring more syrup on her remaining panna cake. “And he isn’t going anywhere.”

Namia frowned at her friend who smiled and took another bite of panna cake as if deliberately taunting her.

“What do you mean?” she asked, desperate to know what Tara knew.

There were several seconds where Namia had to remind herself to breathe and that tossing a nearby pillow at Tara would not get her the information faster, nor be particularly Jedi-like.

The emotions of that morning still linger fresh in her mind, and she could feel them stir slightly as her friend took her time finishing her mouthful.

She deliberated asking over their bond, but she didn’t want to drop the shields she’d so carefully put in place as guards until she regained her centre. She trusted Tara not to reveal anything, but she also didn’t want to burden her friend with the secret. Tara kept too many of them as it was.

Eventually Tara finished the mouthful and reached for the syrup bottle again.

“These are really good, we should order more of these,” she said.

“Tara, you are being...” Namia said trailing away, unable to think of a way of insulting her friend that wouldn’t stop her friend from talking. Tara ignored her, uncapping the syrup bottle and pouring a rather generous amount on the last mouthfuls.

“I believe the words you were thinking of were: nasty, unpleasant, dreadful, loathsome, malicious, mean and unkind.” Tara said with a wry smile. “When actually you need to be calling me kind, caring, considerate and the bestest of friends.”

“Why?” Namia realised her voice was more snappy then she wanted it to be. She didn’t like it when Tara played games and she was the butt of the joke. There was another silence as Tara ate the last mouthful of panna cakes.

“Because I know where your Prince Aeolyn is,” Tara said quietly, smiling to herself and carefully laying her knife and fork down on the now empty plate. “And I know why he isn’t leaving Coruscant anytime soon.”

 

LOL Tara is a lady after my own heart when it comes to pancakes/waffles. Tara definitely seems to know a lot about what's going on and why.

 

Tara does love good food. She's also very quick on the uptake, especially when it comes to Namia

 

Three months of idleness, but it's finished now! Two chapters to go! I actually thought I'd already posted this one

*
Paramour #22 - Winter's Dream - part 7


“How did you know he would be here?” They were standing outside a brightly lit restaurant on one of the upper levels of Coruscant. The walkways were filled with people buying last minute gifts and other items to celebrate Festival. Tara grinned at her and Namia’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Would you believe that I saw him sitting in his coffee shop on my way to get you?”

Namia raised an eyebrow and projected through the Force. Tara smirked.

”Fine.” She leant against one of the light poles that dotted the pedestrian walkway. “Would you believe me if I told you that a Ghost told me?”

Namia cocked her head to one side.

“Still not funny.”

Tara shrugged, her mouth quirking at some internal joke.

“It was a ghost. Edlyn Ghost to be exact.”

Namia’s breath caught in her throat. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have been so lost in the moment that she never even-

“Is he…”

Tara laughed.

“No,” she said quietly, pulling a datapad out of her pocket and typing quickly. When she realised that Namia was still staring at her, she looked up and smiled again. “His sister.”

The girl with the pink skin and the blue hair. Namia remembered. The one surrounded by all the men at the ball.

“His sister?” she repeated, not sure what else to say.

“His sister is a Zeltron,” Tara said with that same infuriating smile she’d had the entire time. Namia closed her eyes and sighed.

“Prince Aeolyn is her halfbrother, which means…”

“That he’s half Zeltron.”

Namia shook her head. She opened half an eye to see Tara’s smile had gone.

“I feel silly,” Namia said softly. Tara reached out and rubbed her arm gently. “I saw his sister on the dance floor and didn’t even put it together. I mean he told me and I saw her and…” She trailed away as she felt her face heat with embarrassment.

“If it’s any consolation even a half-Zeltron would produce enough pheromones that you wouldn’t have even seen the manipulation coming.”

Namia shook her head. Tara’s excuse wasn’t going to cut it when she had to give her report to the Council. She could almost hear Qui-Gon’s laughter and see Mace’s frown of disapproval.

“Thank you, but I doubt that’s going to mean anything. I imagine the Council will not see ‘he smelt good and was stuffing with my emotions’ as an excuse for any of my behaviour.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Tara said. Namia noticed the irritating self-satisfied smile was back. “I’ve already put in my report.”

“You have?” Namia’s stomach dropped and she could hear her heart beating in her ears.

“Yep,” Tara said, her grin widening. “I said you distracted the brother, so that I could confirm my suspicions and detain the sister.”

“Oh.”

Tara laughed loudly enough that heads turned to stare at them.

“Yes, they asked for your report too,” Tara added, “but I told them that you weren’t finished yet. That you were waiting for the right moment to detain the brother.”

“Oh.” Namia blinked in confusion. She was frozen, unsure of what to do next. Tara prodded her gently.

“Read this,” Tara held out a datapad and Namia scanned through it, her eyes growing bigger the more she read. Eventually she looked up at Tara.

“Now I feel like a bigger idiot.”

Tara shrugged. “It explains a lot. Figured you could use the information. It’s amazing what Del can find in the archives and on the holonet.”

“Your Master is amazing,” Namia said quietly. “I owe him.”

“Don’t tell him that,” Tara said with a grin. “I think he liked the idea of a real life holo-romance playing out in the Temple.”

Namia half-grinned even as nausea rolled through her stomach. Master Dor would keep it quiet, but she didn’t need the whole sordid affair leaking out through the Temple. For all of their good points, Jedi were terrible gossips.

“Well,” Tara asked after a moment as she went back to leaning on the post and fiddling with another datapad. Her friend pointed to the tiny cafe. “Go detain him.”

 

Tara is a really good friend