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slusheeduck · 2 years ago

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Stars In His Eyes Fal finds out about naming ceremonies Baldur's Gate 3 - post-game “It simply must be perfect. I’ve been waiting for this for just a tenday shy of a century, you know.” The elf seated across from them was a nervous woman, with a slightly pinched face and a few strands of golden hair falling from her otherwise-perfect bun. Perhaps she was more poised in her day-to-day life, but she’d only been harried since she’d first come in.

“Auralae, darling, what do you think I am? A kobold?” Astarion scoffed as Falerin refilled the woman’s cup. “I know perfectly well how important a naming ceremony is.” He turned his head, tapping his pointed ear. “I don’t have these for fashion’s sake, you know.”

The elf sighed. “I’m sorry. I just…there are so few full elves here in Neverwinter, and so many have…assimilated.”

“I know, completely ghastly. How do any of us manage?” There was plenty of sarcasm in the words, but Falerin was fairly certain he was the only one who caught it.

Like all new clients, they’d met in their back garden after sunset—it was a lovely space, with nightblooming flowers and lit by Neverwinter’s iconic colored glass lamps. They were seated in a cozy little tea area on the porch, wrought iron chairs just holding the tiniest bite of chill as they sat. This was the tenth person coming to Astarion about embroidery since he’d quietly started taking on jobs—all word of mouth, and not one questioned the fact he only did meetings after dark. It was Neverwinter, after all, and artists��good artists—always had their quirks.

Falerin often stuck around for moral support—“No” was still a difficult word for Astarion at times, and every now and again a particularly pushy client needed some pleasant encouragement to pay and leave, thank you. But other than that, he was more than content to let Astarion do all the chatting. He was good at that, after all.

Astarion leaned forward, pulling over a pen and paper. “Now, obviously we’re going to go with a sun motif, yes? What’s your daughter’s name now?”

“Aurae. After me, naturally.”

“Naturally. Do you know what her new name will be?”

Auralae made a despairing little noise. “She hasn’t told me. She said she wants it to be a surprise for the ceremony. Gods, I hope it isn’t embarrassing. She’s…an odd girl, sometimes.”

“Most elves her age are, but I’m sure it will be a lovely name. I’ll hold off on embroidering her child name, then—if you’d like, after the ceremony, I think we could put her child name on her left sleeve and her adult name on the right. What do you think?”

“Oh, that’s…that sounds lovely, actually.”

“Mm. For now, I think…a sun on the back, rising over her shoulders and the rays stretching down to the hem. Family name along the collar, what do you think of vines in the front?”

“Well, I…I was rather hoping for flowers, actually. Sunflowers on the front?”

“I can do sunflowers on the front, easy.” He finished a preliminary sketch, then pushed it toward Auralae. “Like this?”

The elf woman gave a soft gasp. “Oh…oh, yes, I can see where you’re going with this. And with the gold thread…yes. Yes, I think this is what I’d like for her gown. How you managed to guess that perfectly…”

Astarion gave a satisfied little smile. “I’m very good at knowing what people want.” He looked to Falerin. “My love, if you could go over payment as you walk her out?”

Falerin nodded, getting up to his feet and waiting for Auralae to get up as well. “Now, for something of this caliber, it’s about five hundred upfront. Then in about a week, you can come by and see how it’s progressing and make suggestions…”

He guided Auralae out, thanking her for her business, then snagged a blanket as he made his way back out to the garden. He kissed the top of Astarion’s head as he sat down, tucking the blanket around the both of them, then looked up overhead with a content sigh.

“How much do you think we could wring out of her?” Astarion asked, scooting as close to Falerin as he could. “Couple thousand? Maybe we could get up to ten if she wants revisions.”

Falerin laughed. “We don’t need the money, love. I thought you did this for the fun of it.”

“Hells no. I don’t do anything for the fun of it—if there’s a reward, I want it.” He clicked his tongue, looking at Falerin in faux affront. “Honestly, it’s like you never went on a terrifying illithid adventure with me.”

Fal laughed. “Suppose you can’t ever take the rogue out of you,” he teased, then fell into a content silence as Astarion’s face burrowed against his neck for warmth. “Is that really a thing with elves? Choosing a name once you turn one hundred?”

“Mm. Big ceremony, massive to-do,” Astarion said lightly. “I’m told the parties that come afterward are incredible.”

Falerin was quiet for a moment, then looked down to Astarion, brows creasing. “…you didn’t have one.”

“I’m so pleased you can do math, my love,” Astarion quipped. He sighed. “But no, I didn’t. Just another thing Cazador took from me.”

Falerin pressed his lips together. “So you never chose a name, then.”

“I did. I chose Astarion.” The vampire settled back with a long breath, looking up at the starry sky overhead. “My parents were unconventional, giving me a name like that—most elf children get names like Faen or Bryn—or Aurae, like today--short things meant to be discarded. Mine was unusual.” He gave a wry smile. “I don’t suppose it’s a surprise that I come from dramatic sorts—I remember that much about my family. Loving, though. Very loving.”

He went quiet for a moment, eyes simply fixed overhead. Beneath the blanket, Falerin took his hand, giving it a bracing squeeze. Astarion took a breath, not looking at him.

“But…as everything started falling away, as I lost more and more of myself, Astarion Ancunín was all I could cling to. So, when I was fairly certain I’d hit one hundred, I decided to keep it. Some days, it was all the sense of self I had left—I couldn’t risk letting it go.”

Falerin listened quietly, entwining their fingers together. His thumb lightly stroked Astarion’s, and he looked up as well, watching the stars twinkling overhead. “Do you know why they named you Astarion?”

“I do. It’s ridiculously soppy, are you ready?” Astarion pulled away just enough to grin at him. “For the stars in my eyes when I was born.”

Fal smiled back. “That’s cute,” he says. “But…yes, a little dramatic.”

“Isn’t it? Thank the gods none of that dramaticism made it to me.” He chuckled, head falling to rest against Fal’s. “I’ve never actually told anyone that before. And don’t you dare tell anyone else.”

“It stays with me, don’t worry,” Falerin says with a laugh. “I see them, though.”

“See what?”

“The stars in your eyes.” Falerin lifted his head, smiling. “Whenever you’re happy, they’re shining.”

Astarion’s face was very soft, just for a moment, then he snorted. “Terrible. Remind me to put that in my folio of terrible lines—granted, the only one who’ll get them now is you. Brace yourself.”

“Braced and ready.” Falerin sighed, looking up overhead. “I was just named after my grandfather. Mother’s side, obviously.”

“Did you like him?”

“No. He always smelled like boiled cabbage.” He squinted. “But I don’t think I’d change it. I’ve gotten fond of it over the years.”

“I have, too.” Astarion kissed his cheek, giving his hand a squeeze. “Let’s get inside so I can start actually planning out that robe. I can feel that woman pacing from here.” Casual Banter Masterpost

#fanfic #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #tav/astarion #astarion #No prompt today! Just a lot of feelings about Astarion's name

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padmeanddorme · 2 years ago

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Star Wars Christmas Special- Love on Life Day

Padme.2008

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Life Day, 8 years after the defeat of Darth Sidious, better known as Chancellor Palpatine….

Radiant rays of sweet morning sunlight seeped through the majestic, tall windows of the apartment. The warm rays lit up the lavender and lapis hues of the young woman’s golden-accented sitting room. The brunette hummed a traditional tune her old friend used to perform to her on a Nabooian hallikset and allowed a smile to settle on her face as the sun warmed her soul. As she continued to soak in the sunbeam’s sensation, she finished weaving a violet velvet ribbon around the gift before her. Padmé Naberrie Amidala-Skywalker then sunk further into the comfort of her cream-coloured couch and allowed a sigh of long-awaited relief to flow out her mouth. The Life Day gifts were finally all wrapped, and Padmé could now place the rest of the presents wrapped within graceful Karlini silk under her apartment’s miniature Tree of Life. All the former Queen had to do next was to determine what festive clothes she should wear. Oh! How could it slip her mind that she had to wake up her children and-

“Ani!”

Padmé laughed as she felt someone run their fingers through her waterfall of chocolate curls. Padmé carefully twisted her head around to meet her husband’s gaze, only to notice nobody was situated behind the sofa. Which meant that-

“How did you get there that quickly?” Padmé questioned in awe as she gazed at the gorgeous, sleepy brunette now snuggled beside her.

“Morning Angel,” Anakin mumbled sleepily, propping his head full of honey brown curls on her shoulder. “I guess I’m just fast because I’m really desperate to get snuggled up next to you.” Anakin smirked; his cerulean eyes drooping shut like a rosy, red nightbloomer finally succumbing to the harsh conditions of Jakku.

“Hmm sure,” Padmé begun, rolling her eyes as Anakin’s eyelids reluctantly opened so he could stretch his broad shoulders.

A moment of sweet silence passed as the former Jedi Knight repositioned himself against the couch. Padmé took this moment to shuffle closer to her husband and to lay herself against Anakin, using his bare chest as a comforting cushion.

“What are you doing up this early? And who is that gift for?” Anakin queried suddenly, his sleepy mood fading as he finally realised what celebration fell on this day.

Padmé giggled at his childlike excitement, her bubbly laughter only increasing as his fingers began swimming through her hair.

“I had to wrap this gift for Rex last minute. I forgot to do it last night as I was supposed to, seeing as someone insisted that we watch a holofilm instead of preparing for today like we previously planned.” Padmé sighed, running a hand along her silky sky-blue nightdress to rid it of creases.

“Hey!” Anakin laughed, pressing a kiss on the crown of Padmé’s pale forehead. “In my defence, Galactic Bandits was a holofilm the twins have been harping on about watching for ages!” Anakin pouted, before puffing out an exasperated huff.

That was the Skywalkers. Always with a flair for pursuing drama and adventure, even if it was only in the form of a holofilm.

“Now Leia and Luke will hopefully shut up about it!” Anakin continued, grateful they ended up watching the movie starring Hondo Ohnaka last night, as it provided him with another excuse to snuggle with Padmé.

“I guess that’s a somewhat reasonable excuse for not preparing for Life Day,” Padmé giggled, reflecting on how lovely it was to watch a holoflick with her family, crowded under blankets.

“It’s also a good excuse for snuggling with you without being lectured by Leia about doing too much PDA,” Anakin laughed, reminding Padmé of how their children despise witnessing romantic moments between Anakin and herself.

Padmé could not keep back an onslaught of giggles at Anakin’s remark.

“I don’t think Leia would have noticed us cuddling, Ani. She was too busy harping on about how she wants to go to Florrum to meet Hondo for Life Day.” Padmé sighed, praying that a brief visit to Florrum would not end up in Leia being recruited by the fickle Hondo Ohnaka.

Anakin snorted, imagining his daughter using her disc-shaped droid Lola to distract the oblivious Florrum pirates while Luke would attempt to steal a Kowakian monkey lizard.

“I hope that we never set a foot down on that planet. Obi-wan and I got drugged there even though we swapped our drinks with other pirates!” Anakin recalled the memory he was not overly fond of, leading Padmé to erupt into light laughter.

“Hmm, I think it’s best we don’t take Luke and Leia there. I would end up resorting to aggressive negotiations, what with some of the pirates having a reputation to think that women are objects.” Padmé admitted, anger rising up in her like a candle flame igniting.

Yet Padmé’s train of thought soon halted, as she realised her wary words may stir up some memories of Anakin’s not so carefree childhood, reminding him of the stress of slavery.

Anakin winced slightly at her words and traced a finger down his eye scar in an attempt to distract himself.

Witnessing his worried expression and noticing how withdrawn he suddenly seemed sent an onslaught of guilt to wash over Padmé.

Fortunately, once Anakin’s hands clasped around Padmé’s stomach, and she begun soothingly tracing patterns on his calloused, flesh hand, Anakin’s tense shoulders seemed to deflate.

She pressed her lips to his warm hand, knowing this gesture of affection always calmed him during those terrible times in the war where he broke down into sobs and shakes. Sometimes all the death and destruction would finally take a toll on the Hero with No Fear.

She smiled softly as she felt him bury his face in her land of chocolate locks.

The two could communicate without words or even a whisper, with Padmé reflecting on how Anakin retreating to her curly hair meant he was relaxed and relishing in his wife’s peaceful presence.

Once again, the two were basking in silence, with the occasional beep from a speeder in the crowded Coruscant air lanes being the only interruption to the bliss.

The serenity led Padmé to reminisce on those few revitalising days she spent with Anakin after they married all those years ago. Where there was no distractions nor dread, only the chirping of birds, the soft sensation of Anakin’s lips against hers and the refreshing swims in the Varykino lake.

“What were you humming before?” Anakin murmured suddenly, his typically confident and passionate voice quiet and whisper-like when he was sharing an intimate moment with the love of his life.

“It sounded beautiful, my love.” The Hero of Fear remarked with his voice that would command clone troops being sincere and sweet with his wife.

The Senator of Naboo blushed deeply at the compliment. “It was an original song Sabé played to me a few times on her hallikset,” Padmé reflected, her ordered mind remembering her loyal, determined friend that Anakin would joke was her mysterious doppelgänger.

“Sabé was a skilled hallikset player because she studied how to play it at the Theed Conservatory before she served as my handmaiden,” Padmé explained with a laugh.

She could not help but reminisce on those catchups between formal meetings with the Naboo Royal Advisory Council and body double trainings where Sabé would play her family’s hallikset to Padmé to help alleviate the stress that accompanied being a Queen at 14. And the stress that would consume her at the thought of being away from her family.

“She used to play this song when I was stressed out and I figured it could be a lulling lullaby to sing when our little baby is born.” Padmé admitted, gesturing to her baby bump. Luke had been teasingly joking that it appeared as if there was a tooka hiding underneath Padmé’s colourful clothes.

“Well, it’s a beautiful song that you sing so angelically. And if it calms you down, it might settle the twins down too!” Anakin exclaimed, impressed by how Padmé humming skills made her seem even more angelic than she already was.

Padmé blushed at Anakin’s kind words, reflecting on how there could be no gift that compared to her heart-warming husband and cheeky children.

“Thanks, Ani.” She murmured sleepily, hoping the little life within her would find her singing soothing.

“That reminds me; are Sabé and Tonra coming today?” Anakin questioned with a booming yawn.

It was evident that the former Jedi General forgot that Obi-wan, Cody, Rex, Fives, Jesse, Ahsoka, Kayden and Dormé confirmed they were the only ones who could celebrate Life Day with them.

“Unfortunately, they can’t. They already had pre plans to celebrate Life Day with their new friends on Tatooine, and they believe that Life Day will serve as the perfect cover to sneak former slaves off-world.”

“Oh, I forgot about that,” Anakin laughed, as he placed another kiss on Padmé’s forehead. “Guess that’s what happens when you spend all day yesterday baking and cleaning to prepare for Life Day,” Anakin stated, reminding Padmé to finish decorating the Wookie cookies freshly cooked yesterday.

She also mentally noted to prepare some more Hoth chocolates and to dice up some Jogan fruit for Anakin’s salad.

“Anyway, why are you such a sleepyhead today?” Padmé teased, reflecting on those days in the Clone Wars where Anakin was quite used to waking up during unreasonable hours to be shipped off world.

Anakin nuzzled his face against Padmé’s halo of freshly washed hair, inhaling the sweet scent of her Jesmin kelp perfume. He had grown fond of her perfume ever since she had received a barrack load of the fragrance from colleges in the Senate.

“I guess you become a sleepyhead when you have two stubborn, troublesome twins,” Anakin sighed as he rested his golden prosthetic hand on Padmé’s swollen stomach.

“And another baby on the way only makes you anxious and more tired.”

In response to Anakin’s confession, Padmé intertwined her warm hand with Anakin’s familiar chilly cold prosthetic one, hoping the two of them could detect their offspring’s kick.

“Hmm, that is a reasonable point,” Padmé giggled, pondering if her two eight-year-old twins were still drifting off in the world of distant dreams.

Anakin hummed in agreement, acknowledging that their tiring twins were also grating on the cheerful Padmé from time to time.

“However, I think your stubbornness gene is to blame for Leia and Luke’s silly spirit, Mr Hero with No Fear,” Padmé joked, her fatigued muscles beginning to relax in the comfort of her husband’s welcoming, warm embrace.

Anakin rolled his curious cerulean eyes. “I’m stubborn? Says the one who continues to serve in the Senate despite several assassination attempts on her life!” Anakin scoffed, running his other hand through Padmé’s mane of hair.

“Fine, another fair point!” Padmé reluctantly agreed, smiling softly.

“Milady, let us not forget that you went directly to the planet where the person who wanted you dead was, despite being advised by the Jedi Council to not leave Tatooine.”

Padmé heaved an amused sigh, realising Anakin was being quite reasonable.

“Hmm, someone’s speechless!” Anakin giggled, leading Padmé to slap his robe-covered arm playfully.

“Shut up, Ani!” Padmé grumbled in fake annoyance, internally grateful that the Clone Wars, which had spread like a disease, instilling chaos, destruction, and death into the galaxy, had dissolved 7 years prior and now let her enjoy her lovely life with her family.

The couple drifted into comfortable silence, Anakin being quite smug with himself, having outsmarted his intelligent wife.

“You’d make some convincing arguments as a senator, Anakin.” Padmé suddenly noted, despite knowing her husband would rather be taken hostage by pirates than having to resort to diplomatic negotiations.

Just as she assumed, Anakin began blatantly refuting her words.

“Absolutely no way in the kriffing force. Just because I married a politician and am friends with about 3 others, does not mean I want to be one!” Anakin argued desperately, leading light laughter to erupt and fill the air.

“Mind your language Senator Anakin Amidala-Skywalker!” Padmé commanded with a laugh as Anakin huffed out a defeated sigh and rested his chin on her head.

Light laughter continued to fill the air only to be replaced mere moments later by squeals and screams.

Anakin had begun mercilessly tickling Padmé’s muscular shoulders.

“Anakin!” Padmé breathed between giggles as she attempted to untangle herself from her husband’s arms.

Anakin ignored her pleas for mercy and begun to tickle her neck. He smiled softly as he noticed Padmé’s neck was adorned with her Japor Snippet.

Finally, after resorting to attacking Anakin with tickles back, Padmé was able to squirm her way out of her soulmate’s embrace.

The chuckles faded into silent serenity as Padmé rose from the couch and twisted her sore back. Being 7 months pregnant was strenuous on her petite, short frame.

However, the comfortable silence as Padmé stretched and Anakin aggressively rubbed his eyelids to fight to stay awake was soon disrupted as Padmé released a small gasp of shocked surprise.

Immediately, Anakin practically leaped from the sofa so he could rest a hand on Padmé’s slender shoulder to steady her.

“What’s wrong, Angel?” Anakin panicked, anxiety evident in his voice and the concerned cock of his eyebrow.

Padmé’s shocked expression soon settled into a calm, content one.

“I’m ok, love,” Padmé reassured her husband gently, reaching for his prosthetic hand.

Anakin cautiously allowed Padmé to press his hand against the soft fullness of her baby-bearing belly.

“Can you feel the kick?” Padmé breathed in awe, her chocolate eyes following Anakin as he knelt carefully on the floor and rested his head against her swollen stomach.

Anakin took a few moments to recollect himself and to detect the strong, swift thump before he rose to his towering height.

“There’s definitely a fighter in there!” He grinned, lifting a hand to caress Padmé’s cheek.

A wide smile etched itself onto Padmé’s soft features, for she was elated to see Anakin’s excitement to becoming a father to another child.

Padmé hummed in agreement before she clasped her hands around Anakin’s neck and gazed into his intense, intrigued eyes. She had always been fascinated by how much emotion Anakin could convey with his eyes.

“Do you know what else this child is going to be?” Anakin exclaimed, gesturing to Padmé’s stomach teeming with midi-chlorians.

“What is that Ani?” Padmé responded as she gazed at the early morning traffic zooming past their apartment.

“Generous, kind-hearted, cunning, courageous and beautiful, just like their mother,” Anakin smirked, his smile becoming smugger as he noticed a rosy, red hue wash over Padmé’s cheeks.

Padmé’s cheeks heated up as she blushed, and she felt as if her cheeks’ heat could compare to that of the twin Tatooine suns.

“Married 11 years and you still know how to make my stomach flutter,” Padmé admitted shyly, resting her hands on Anakin’s chiselled cheeks.

Anakin’s blushed intensely at her remark, his skin tanned from the twin Tatooine suns flushing a rosy red.

“11 years on and I’ll still never get sick of kissing you,” Anakin laughed, lowering his neck so he could meet Padmé’s lips.

The two were transported to a world of wonder, filled with bliss and magical memories as their lips met. Their eyes slid shut as they savoured the moment of the physical, passionate connection between them. Padme ran her fingers through Anakin’s shoulder-length curls as he deepened the gentle kiss.

However, the tender moment soon was interrupted. Interrupted by two troublesome twins.

“I seriously didn’t want to wake up to this.” A sassy yet sweet voice exclaimed with disgust.

Anakin and Padmé’s eyes shot open, and they attempted to calmy untangle themselves from one another, making quite a scene for the unimpressed children before them.

“Leia, you wouldn’t like it if mum and dad judged you for kissing someone, would you?” The gentle-natured Luke Amidala-Skywalker quipped, always trying to calm Leia’s wild streak.

Anakin and Padmé glanced at one another, conveying their embarrassment to be caught red-handed kissing one another. However, they soon set their concern aside as Leia crossed her arms in impatience and huffed out a sigh, waiting to hear what excuse they had for making out this time.

Padmé lowered herself to a kneeling position, ready to explain that kissing was nothing to be ashamed of, before both Luke and Leia surprisingly tackled her into a hug. Anakin soon dove to the floor and his arms draped themselves around Padmé’s shoulders like the finishing touch to one of her elaborate outfits.

What a memorable moment this was. All her life Padmé had longed for a family of her own and when she entered the world of politics, she was concerned she would never be able to seize the opportunity of creating her own family. Yet, here she was, balancing out being the Senator of Naboo, who would soon transition to the role of the Chancellor of the Republic, as well as being a dedicated mother and wife.

Padmé wished she could freeze this peaceful moment and savour it for all eternity.

The Amidala-Skywalker family soon released one another, with Luke and Leia both eager to help their aching mother up. The two realised carrying a breathing being within themselves would be a tricky task, hence they had been spending the past few months helping with more chores and leaping at any opportunity to aid their mother.

“Thank you, for the hug you three. Now what Luke said before is right, Leia,” Padmé started as her energetic children tugged her along to the kitchen.

“Besides, without your father and I loving each other, you two wouldn’t be born.”

Leia nodded her head begrudgingly, her hair full of chocolate curls bouncing together and mirroring Padmé’s hair cascading down her back.

“I guess you’re right, mum. But if I see dad staring at you with goo-goo eyes today, I am going to kick him out of the Life Day party!” Leia remarked playfully as she glared at her stunned father.

“I mean, now I am definitely going to have to judge Leia even if she kisses someone who is good enough for her,” Anakin teased, as he winked at his little Princess and headed towards the silver fridge.

Luke erupted into giggles, as did Padmé. Leia laughed but also decided to sprint towards her father. She only returned to her mother’s side once she had whacked Anakin’s leg with brute force.

“Ouch!” Anakin complained as he rubbed the stinging sensation on his leg and watched Leia bolt away.

“Not cool, Leia. No more whacking, ok?” Anakin sighed, as he opened the fridge and let his eyes search for some suitable breakfast food.

“Leia, no whacking your father. And Ani! You poor thing. Though your remark was a little harsh,” Padmé sighed in concern, before she motioned for Luke and Leia to sit on the shiny breakfast bar stools.

“What? I’d judge Luke too if he decided to kiss some stuck-up, half-witted, scruffy-looking nerf-herder!” Anakin laughed.

Anakin then tuned into the force and harnessed his connection with it so he could float 2 ripe-looking fruits over to his kids.

The confident twins giggled at their father’s remark and lifted the juicy Jogan fruits levitating before them to their mouths.

“And what would you like, Angel?” Anakin queried as he passed Padmé a bottle of Blue Milk and swooped some of his mop of brown-blonde hair behind his ears.

As Padmé collected some glasses and poured the milk into her twin’s cups she pondered on what food she was able to consume when she was pregnant with Luke and Leia.

“The leftover Five Blossom Bread please, Ani.” Padmé requested politely as she fetched some water for herself and Anakin.

“Coming right up, Milady.” Anakin chimed, as he set 2 plates with the soft, fluffy bread atop of the free spaces of the glass benchtop.

“Why thank you, Master Jedi.” Padmé giggled at the mention of the nickname before she settled into her chair, ready to bite into the tangy bread.

The family then enjoyed their morning meal in comfortable silence, with Luke and Leia occasionally attempting to pinch a piece off of Anakin’s bread loaf. But their attempts were to no avail, seeing as Anakin used his quick as lightning reflexes to shoo their hands away.

Padmé could not help but laugh at her children’s frustration and fascination at Anakin’s skill of handling the force.

“Hey, um….” Luke begun speaking out of the blue as he rose from his seat to dispose of the jogan’s red leaves.

“Yes, sunshine?” Anakin responded, flicking his breadcrumbs on to Leia’s ceramic plate as he directed his gaze to his sandy blonde-haired son.

“Hey! Keep your crumbs away from me!” Leia giggled, snatching her plate away and heading over to the silver sink to scrub her dish.

“Who’s that present for, over there, wrapped in the Karlini silk?” Luke queried curiously, motioning at the present idly laying on the circular glass table between the apartment’s main couches.

“Do you remember when we were embroidering the jaig eyes symbols onto that pale blue shirt last week?” Padmé spoke, twirling around to face Luke as she headed towards the kitchen to help Leia finish cleaning the rest of the plates.

“Mmhm. Didn’t you say that the eyes are a Mandalorian symbol rewarded to soldiers for acts of courage?” Luke replied, kindly smiling to his dad as Anakin floated over a disinfectant wipe to him and motioned for him to wipe clean the breakfast bench.

“Yes, many Mandalorians and clone troopers have these symbols painted onto their helmets and armour plates.” Padmé begun, remembering how her dear friend Rex had explained this to her when Anakin had introduced them to one another early into the Clone Wars.

“So, that top with the jaig eyes is a present for Uncle Rex that you can give to him later today.” Padmé explained as she passed a freshly cleaned dish to Leia to dry with her special Nabooian tea towel that was a gift from her parents.

“Oh, that makes sense! When are Uncle Rex, Aunty Soka, Uncle Ben and all the others going to arrive anyway?” Luke questioned as he narrowly avoided crashing into his dad who was cleaning the cushioned chairs.

“About 2 hours I reckon,” Anakin confirmed, glancing at the cream-coloured chronometer on Luke’s wrist.

“Plenty of time for you to do my hair then, please?” Leia begged her dad as she wiped dry the last plate and studied her mother emptying the soapy sink.

“Ok Princess, but I need to shower first, so how about you get changed?” Anakin replied, as he disposed of the disinfectant wipes used and then headed towards his and Padmé’s shared bedroom chamber.

“Alright. Well Aunty Soka or Cody can do my hair if you take a lengthy shower then.” Leia beamed, being excited to spend time with her uncles and aunties. Leia secretly also desired to use her persuasive skills to convince Cody, Rex or Dormé to teach her how to become a specialist with a blaster.

Anakin froze on his path to the fresher for a moment, sensing Leia’s desire to do something suspicious. Yet, Anakin could not pinpoint what antics his daughter was planning in a clear sense, only being able to sense her mischievous desire to trick the guests arriving later today. Ahsoka must have been teaching Leia how to develop a sturdy mental shield. Anakin twisted around to face his feisty daughter, offering her a weary smile and a raise of his brow, before heading back on his way to the apartment’s ensuite.

“Leia. Luke. Get dressed please,” Anakin commanded with a playful tone as he disappeared into the round room in which he installed a new shower in during the previous week.

A synchronised sigh escaped Luke and Leia’s mouth. The two troublemaker twins could not wait for the creative celebrations of Life Day to commence.

“Race you to the wardrobe Luke!” Leia announced, her craving for adventure and action leading her to sprint to her and Luke’s joint bedroom.

Luke froze as he finished wiping the glass bench, a surprised and sad expression washing over his face.

Despite having witnessed many more heartbreaking situations during the war, Padmé’s heart still ached at the sore sight of Luke spinning around to face her, tears ready to stain his purple pyjamas, eyes pooling with salty tears.

“What’s wrong, Sunshine?” Padmé spoke softly, kneeling to wrap an arm around her shy son.

“Leia always wins, and she never waits for me to line up with her. It’s not fair that she always gets a head start and then teases me about losing afterwards.” Luke whimpered, burying his face into his mother’s pearl-decorated shoulder.

Padmé sighed softly and gently placed a soothing hand on her son’s back as Leia slipped inside her bedroom.

“Oh, Luke. I’ll have a chat with Leia about the importance of being kind and playing fair. But I want you to cheer up and remember that we don’t always win and get what we want. Sometimes this is for a reason. Losing shows us that there’s always room for improvement and teaches us that we need to remember to celebrate other people’s successes, not just our own. Ok, Sunshine?”

Luke lifted his face to lock his gaze with his mother’s chocolate eyes. He sniffed softly and allowed a smile to dance over his features as Padmé wiped a stray tear away from his pale cheek.

“I understand mamma. Thank you.” Luke admitted, standing up straighter and shrugging his insecurities away.

That was Padmé’s strong son. Able to act upon the advice of others, able to not be ashamed of his emotions and able to forgive others despite their mistakes.

“You know,” Luke begun, intertwining his fingers with his mother’s, and helping her rise to her feet. “That was the perfect example of how you are going to be an incredible chancellor!”

Luke beamed at his words and begun to guide his mother to her bedroom.

He then glanced up at Padmé and offered her a toothy grin that was a spitting image of Anakin’s.

The 35-year-old beamed in response to her son’s comforting comment, reflecting on how anxious, yet eager she was to become the new Chancellor of the Republic within a matter of 7 months. The upcoming month prior to assuming her responsibilities as Chancellor would allow Padmé to wrap up her career as the Senator Representative of Naboo, with the 6 latter months being scheduled for Padmé’s maternity leave.

What a bustling time Padmé had ahead of her. Fortunately, this Life Day would remind the former queen that she had many friends and family members that would graciously guide her.

“Thank you, Luke. I guess I have a considerable amount of experience with speeches!” Padmé laughed lightly, as Luke’s hand slipped out of hers so he could head to the spare refresher to brush his teeth.

Luke chuckled as well before the mother and son parted ways, ready to prepare for the liveliness of Life Day.

“Oh, Luke,” Padmé murmured, before she begun to slip her bedroom door shut.

Luke twirled around to glance up at the woman who continually inspired and impressed him.

“It’s your turn to steal and wear your father’s Jedi cloak!” Padmé chuckled, reminding her son of the annual tradition the Amidala-Skywalker’s enjoyed carrying out each Life Day since Padmé proposed the scheme.

Luke grinned cheekily.

“When dad is occupied with all the guests, it’ll be the perfect opportunity to sneak into your room and to fetch it,” Luke giggled, bouncing on his feet in delight and brushing a small hand through his short golden locks.

“Perfect idea until he catches you. I’ll hang the cloak up in my closet next to my gold picnic dress, ok?” Padmé proposed, resting a hand on her swollen stomach.

“Uh huh!” Luke replied giddily, his young face shining with excitement.

“I’m sure Leia will lend me Lola for her favourite tradition. Lola can keep watch for me while I steal dad’s cloak.” Luke reasoned as a sly smirk etched itself across his normally day-dreaming face.

“Alright, keeping getting ready and I’ll see you soon!” The sensible woman reminded her helpful son, before striding over to her wooden wardrobe, knowing the perfect outfit for the day that would spread laughter and love.

Her outfit would symbolise the values that Wookies aimed to promote when they created the Life Day holiday. The former queen would become a beacon for unity, joy, and harmony.

∞∞∞

“You’re telling me that the Senator Amidala, as in the gorgeous Naboo senator that we nearly painted a portrait of on the Marauder, sent us a holo transmission yesterday, saying how she wants to meet us next week?”

Wrecker was astonished, awestruck and internally anxious. It is not every day the opportunity arises that will allow you to meet your dreamy idol. The idol that you propped up on a pedestal.

Tech sighed, propping his goggles with golden lenses to rest on his tanned forehead. “Yes, I do believe that’s what occurred while you, Echo and Omega flew off to Ord Mantell for some mantel mix.”

“And need I remind you that we did not need more mantel mix. We already have two crates full of-”

Wrecker collapsed back on his red, rusty chair, heaving a melodramatic sigh, and raising a hand to shush Tech.

“Why did you wait this long to tell me?” Wrecker whined, running a hand over his blinded eye before his thin lips settled into a pout.

“Well, I’m guessing they didn’t want to deal with you watching the transmission on repeat and ranting about how you want to negotiate with her all day long.” Echo complained, fiddling with his short cybernetic hand.

“We already know you’re interested in her. Don’t need to hear the same info on repeat.” Crosshair bit out, trying to rein in his flurry of annoyance at Wrecker.

“Aghh! I just want to watch at least one minute of the transmission, that’s not too much to ask, eh?” Wrecker begged, gazing intensely at Hunter for affirmation.

Hunter adjusted his reddish bandanna against his chocolate mullet before he sighed heavily.

“You might want to reel in your excitement, Wrecker. The senator is happily married and with two kids.” Hunter advised as he rose from the co-pilot chair to fetch his handy, hidden vibroblade.

Omega and Wrecker had decided to create a new Life Day tradition where they would steal and hide Wrecker’s vibroblade somewhere amongst the Marauder.

Wrecker’s dismay was evident as his eyes widened in shock at Hunter’s words.

“Hunter is correct. Senator Amidala and General Skywalker revealed to the holonet they were married at the beginning of the Clone Wars and were expecting twins eight years ago, a few days after Commander Fox shot the Chancellor.” Tech confirmed, recalling the chaotic day those 8 years ago when Fox had witnessed the chancellor pleading for Anakin to succumb to the dark side and decided he would end all the deceit and darkness once and for all.

“May I add that, in the transmission, the senator was hugging the General. And she indicated she is pregnant with another child when she stated she wanted to carry out a mission with us before she heads on maternity leave.” Tech explained, the words rushing out of his mouth and proving he was one to notice the minor details that seemed to brush past everyone else.

In sync, both Wrecker and Echo’s mouth dropped in utter surprise, leaving Crosshair and Omega, who were sitting and playing sabacc in the spare space of the cockpit, to snicker smugly.

“I seriously knew it!” Echo laughed, launching up from his chair in a joyous jump, leaving a bewildered expression to wash over the rest of the batch’s faces.

“Fives, Jesse, Kix, and I used to bet on General Skywalker’s relationship with the senator, after noticing he always disappeared after mission briefings on Coruscant. We also kept noticing that he would always twitch whenever he was around her on a mission, as if he was battling the urge to hug her.”

A mere moment of silence swept throughout the Marauder as everyone processed the fact that Wrecker would now never stop wallowing in woe at the reality the revelation enforced.

“I mean, I can see why she picked General Skywalker, but…. still….” Wrecker trailed off, grumbling in frustration.

Yet, his eyes soon darted towards the now 21-year-old Omega as she rose from the grey floor and headed towards him, her shoulder length halo of blonde hair bouncing as she strode with purpose towards her fun father like figure.

“Let’s look at this in the spirit of Life Day; yes, you have no hope of dating the senator, but I’m sure she’d still love to become your friend!” Omega smiled, laying a tanned hand on Wrecker’s armour-plated shoulder.

Wrecker grunted but soon grinned. He always appreciated Omega’s attempts to cheer him up.

“I guess you’re right about that kid,” Wrecker laughed heartily, before he stood straight and hurried over to lean over Tech’s slender shoulder.

“Speaking of Life Day, Tech, you need to set course to Kashyyyk, so we can celebrate Life Day the traditional way!” Wrecker established, ruffling the short, slicked back brown locks of Tech’s hair.

“Get that hand away from me, Wrecker!” Tech grumbled, swatting away his brother’s large hand before he inputted the coordinates for the thriving forest world of Kashyyyk in the nav computer.

Wrecker grinned as the Marauder rumbled and then rocketed forward at the command of Tech, launching into the mesmerising realm of hyperspace.

“In the 8 years we’ve all been together, how have we never celebrated a Life Day on Kashyyyk before?” Omega laughed, as she walked past Hunter.

Hunter shrugged, only to yell in bewilderment and irritation as Omega snatched his bandana from his head and ignored his protests.

“Actually, I think that’s because Crosshair here is insistent that we stay away from crowds of people,” Echo explained, glaring at his toothpick chewing brother.

“You got that wrong. He is insistent that we always head to abandoned droid factories for target practice on the decommissioned clankers.” Hunter finally explained, with the bald Crosshair smirking at the memory of sniping hundreds of B1 battle droids the previous Life Day.

“Well, next year that won’t be happening!” Wrecker exclaimed excitedly, settling back into his worn and weathered chair.

“And why is that?” Crosshair muttered, as he meekly motioned for Omega to come continue playing Sabacc against him.

Omega rolled her brown irises at Crosshair’s impatience and cocky attitude before she hurried over to her brother, adjusting her red pauldron with a skull painted on it as she did so.

“Well, I’ll obviously be best friends with the senator, and she’ll invite us to her fancy Life Day parties!” Wrecky confidently claimed, a smug smile settling over his face.

“Uh huh, and you don’t have the slightest worry that she’ll actually choose to spend Life Day with the General and her kids?” Echo pondered, as he reflected on how Wrecker’s irritable infatuation with the Senator reminded him of a distant memory that would always lead him to chuckle. That carefree time when Fives admitted he was amazed and attracted by the fiery spirit and beauty of Senator Amidala, only to claim the next day he was joking, after Rex had a special chat with him. Now he realises that Rex was likely persuading Fives to drop his childlike crush, seeing as the General had already captured the Senator’s heart.

“Don’t ruin his moment, Echo. You’ve got to let him dream, even though his dream is ridiculous.” Crosshair slyly commented, only for his smirk to fade into a frown flushing over his oval face.

Omega had revealed her cards- showcasing she had won the round of sabacc with the winning hand of an Idiot’s array.

“Kriff you!” Both Wrecker and Crosshair muttered monotonously in sync.

“Language!” Omega laughed as she winked at Hunter, who proudly realised that his daughter had finally beat Crosshair in sabacc.

“It’s a Life Day miracle!” Omega confidently announced, rising to her tall height, and setting her cards on display to an impressed Tech, who happened to be her Sabacc tutor.

Echo laughed victoriously. “I’m glad that you finally beat that cheater. Now, you can give me your luck and I’ll win. Then he can stop calling me a di’kut.” Echo muttered, his thin face erupting with joy. *Note that di’kut means idiot in Mando’a. *

Wrecker’s scowl at a pissed and pouting Crosshair soon transformed into a bright beam.

“Great job, Kid! At least your victory is cheering me up!” Wrecker laughed heartily, stroking the stubble on his chin, his grey eye lighting up in his excitement for the tattoo-adorned Omega.

“You know what? I think we should let Wrecker watch the transmission,” Omega exclaimed suddenly, laying her cards on the polished floor beside a ticked off Crosshair.

“For a Life Day present. On this day we are meant to be honest, loving and giving, and right now, Wrecker is upset. And Hunter, you always taught me that if we have the ability to help someone, you need to do something.”

Wrecker grinned at the passionate pilot and fearless fighter called Omega that he helped raise. She was compassionate, yet cunning, courageous, yet vulnerable and skilled, yet always willing to learn.

“If you are all finished rumbling on, I do believe we will be out of hyperspace in a minute. We can watch the transmission then head out to enjoy the festivities.” Tech words were a knife that cut the comfortable silence.

Wrecker’s excited elation was evident as he rose from his rosy, red chair, bounded towards a concerned Hunter, and then skidded to a halt.

Hunter rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh as Wrecker pouted pathetically at him. Hunter wondered how his dark hair had not withered away to a grey colour with all the times Wrecker would be childlike and throw caution to the wind.

He decided that guilt, in the form of Omega, would jab him if he did not be compassionate to Hunter on Life Day. So, he reluctantly rose from his chair and begun striding towards a glaring Crosshair.

All the Batchers studied Hunter intently as he jolted to a stop in front of Crosshair and lowered himself into a crouch. It was a strange sight, Hunter only crouched down for missions, and even then, he would reluctantly crouch, muttering about how it strained his legs and did not provide any helpful vantage points.

“Cross, the holo projector please.” Hunter calmy commanded, his voice always reflecting his confident and commanding presence.

It was no surprise nor shock when Crosshair rolled his eyes and continued chewing his worn toothpick.

“I thought we decided to not give Wrecker the chance to be annoying.” Crosshair muttered with a smirk, knowing full well he would resort to fishing Hunter’s holo projector out his battered helmet seated next to him.

“Crosshair, come on, in the spirit of-”

Crosshair sighed and fished the small metal projector out of his helmet’s embrace.

“Ok, ok. Enough with you bugging me.” Crosshair muttered, as he placed the holo projector firmly in Hunter’s gloved hand.

“Finally. I was concerned for a minute you’d start acting like a Sith Lord or Seppie who loathed Life Day.” Omega laughed, as she glanced at her nails painted in a radiant red.

“Hmm, speaking of Life Day, please hurry and show Wrecker the transmission. Then we can enjoy the festivities with the Wookies.” Echo insisted, praying that after a bubbly break on Kashyyyk, he would be able to visit Fives and his girlfriend, the fierce handmaiden Dormé, before Life Day was up.

“Alright, calm down.” Tech uttered, as Hunter slid the holo projector into his hand. Tech smiled softly as he remembered he was the one Hunter trusted most with handling technology and transmissions.

A few presses on the golden disc later, and a miniature, blue, glowing version of the esteemed and elegant Padmé Amidala-Skywalker fizzled to life.

Wrecker’s grey and blind eyes widened in eager excitement as the short senator appeared on the projector Tech grasped.

The Naboo Senator was smiling in a flowy, magenta nightgown that was decorated with a sparkling collar lace. Chocolate curls flowed down her back, and she proudly presented a necklace with a hand-carved, beige token draped around her next. With a hand resting on her stomach and one on her hip, the senator, even though a glitching transmission seemed to possess a regal, commanding presence.

“Hello, Clone Force 99. Well, my husband tells me you’re better known as the Bad Batch. I’m Senator Padmé Amidala-Skywalker. And I’d like to introduce myself and explain why I’m contacting you at what many would deem is an unseemly hour.” The Senator cheerfully chirped as Wrecker and his brothers settled in their seats, ready to serve the friendly senator at a mere moment’s notice.

“Throughout the Clone Wars, I dedicated myself to fighting for Clone’s rights and access to citizenships. I still fight for this cause as I have enjoyed serving alongside many clones, such as Captain Rex, Marshal Commander Cody and the late, honourable Commander Thorn.” The senator continued, her soft smile fading for a moment as both she and the Bad Batch, took a moment to mourn the loss of Thorn and all those thousands of clones who perished in the war.

Just as her lips parted to speak, a pair of gloved hands out of eye’s view poked her slender shoulder.

“Skywalker, I’m guessing,” Echo mused, recognising the leather gloves.

General Anakin Amidala-Skywalker stepped into view as the Senator craned her neck and smirked at the scruffy, dark-blonde haired man.

“Hello boys, it’ll be good to see you again. And Crosshair, I’ve bought my own sniper you can have a look at.” Anakin smiled, as he wrapped a long arm around Padmé’s hip.

Wrecker’s smile faltered a little at the realisation sunk in that the Senator was indeed merrily married. Yet, he brightened at the thought of just becoming her friend. A beam soon etched itself onto his face as he a smile washed over Crosshair’s face. Crosshair surprisingly had taken a liking to the intelligent, cunning Hero with No Fear.

Padmé leaned comfortably against her tall husband before continuing.

“Now, before I head on maternity leave and retire as senator, I’d like to meet you all and discuss a mission I’d love you to accompany me on.” Padmé expressed calmy, before she was interrupted by a sudden, shocked squeal.

Anakin rolled his eyes before slipping out of Padmé’s embrace. He jogged out of view, presumably to the source of distress.

“Sorry, don’t mind my kids. They’re meant to be getting ready for bed, but one of them must have spooked the other somehow,” Padmé calmy sighed, leading Hunter to smirk at her children’s antics.

“Omega, lucky you weren’t as disruptive as that.” Hunter laughed a hand to his painted cheek, as Omega rolled her chocolate eyes and smirked.

“Anyway, while Anakin deals with that, I’d like to propose a plan. I would be grateful if you’d all be able to meet me on this day, next week, at my Coruscant apartment. I will send the other details later.” The Naboo senator confessed confidently as she whipped a datapad into her hands from a glass table beside her.

Her determined eyes came to focus on her datapad as she gave a moment for the Bad Batch to process her words. They had not been hired for a mission since pirate queen Maz Kanata welcomed them to her antique, stone castle and requested they rescue Wookie Chewbacca from the greedy clutches of Hondo Ohnaka.

All clones realised it would be beneficial for them to finally align themselves with the Republic, so they could have protection from hostile forces and be able to get back in contact with their friend Marshal Commander Cody.

“I’d like to discuss if you’d be willing to serve as extra security on my upcoming trip to Tatooine, where I intend to persuade Jabba the Hutt to abolish his criminal empire.” The 35-year-old senator continued, and she incorporated her notes on her datapad into her words.

Tech blinked in mild surprise, before the others followed suit. Jabba was a wealthy, feared and well-connected criminal, and to knock him out of business would set a massive target on Amidala-Skywalker’s head and potentially spread death and destruction across the galaxy, like a disease.

“I know it’s a risky move, what with bounty hunters, pirates and other dangerous criminals lurking in that vile Hutt’s palace and with Jabba being a respected, powerful figure, but I am dedicated to eliminating all slavery from this galaxy, and I want to convince Jabba to join the Republic.” The soon-to-be chancellor explained, her voice coated with passion and purpose.

The members of Clone Force 99 exchanged concerned yet impressed glances with one another, realising that they also stood with the peaceful ideals Padmé was deeply dedicated to.

“It will be mutually beneficial. I realise that Jabba could profit from having connections to well-off senators and the galaxy will be a better place without slavery, illegal trading, and the sacrifice of people to rancors.” Padmé breathed, a hand settling on her chest as if her dream of peace of prosperity for all materialised in front of her.

“So,” the former Queen begun, as Anakin swooped into the frame, as gracefully as an intelligent convor bird, with two young children trailing beside him, hands tucked tightly in Anakin’s grasp.

“I hope you will consider joining the Republic and joining me in my mission to eradicate slavery. Please, comm me back if you will be able to meet me next week. It will be a pleasure to finally meet you, after Anakin here has told me of your heroics and humour.” Padmé smiled, as the girl with lengthy hair cascading down her shoulders attached herself to her leg and the short boy with a shy smile snaked his arms around Anakin’s leg.

“May the Force be with you, Bad Batch.” Both Padmé and Anakin sung in sync with a smile while the young children lifted their hands and waved goodbye while giggling.

Then, the glowing transmission faded.

A mere moment of silence surrounded the Bad Batch before Wrecker launched out of his seat.

“Please, we have to join the Republic and be a source of support!” Wrecker gruffly begged; his thin lips showered with stubble pressing into a beam.

“The senator does have a point; Jabba’s palace is a dangerous place. And I know that the senator is completely capable of being able to protect and defend herself, but it always helps to have back-up. Especially when your leader happens to be pregnant and wanting to enter criminal-filled territory.” Echo thought aloud, his fingers stroking his ghostly pale chin.

Omega smirked and nodded her head, her blonde curls bobbing up and down as she did so. “I reckon we’ve got a date to meet the Senator.” She exclaimed; her chocolate eyes filled with joy as she noticed how elated Wrecker was to be set up for a new mission.

“The Senator can use all the back-up she can get. I’ve heard there are some real slimy bounty hunters that roam around that palace. Like Bossk and Aurra Sing just to name a few.” Wrecker noted, as he cracked his knuckles, indicating he was boiling for an adrenaline-filled fight.

“I guess it would be nice to get some more frequent missions…” Hunter murmured, a tanned hand stroking his chin.

Omega liked to joke that he would always mimic the ‘Kenobi’ move. Apparently, Jedi Master Obi-wan Kenobi always stroked his beard in the footage reporters for the Holonet always snapped of him.

“And joining the Republic would mean we could easily get back in contact with Rex and Fives!” Echo exclaimed excitedly as he and Tech exchanged a convinced glance.

Echo was obviously missing his old captain and batchmate.

“Alright. I’ll come along. But only if you promise this is the last Life Day that we will spend not shooting clankers.” Crosshair sighed, as he collected all the sabacc cards and began neatly piling them.

Crosshair was always one for insisting his surrounding setting be minimalistic, neat, and clean.

“Ok,” Hunter begun, all eyes expectantly gazing at him. It was as if he had settled into the position of the respected parent of his crew.

“We’ll go teach some slaver scum a lesson.” Hunter announced with a smirk, leading the Marauder to become filled with triumphant cheers and laughs.

“It’ll be just like the good ol’days.”

18 notes · View notes

zhoras-bitch · 2 years ago

Text

Shadows Creeping

Book: Blades of Light and Shadow, Book 2

Pairing: Aerin Valleros x elf!f!MC (Reina 'Ray' Nightbloom)

Genre: Angst

Rating: Mature

Warnings: violence, mentions of blood, torture, involuntary drug use, vague sexual themes, crippling guilt, general sense of hopelessness, Valax is exaggeratedly evil

Word count: 3.2K

Summary: After a botched raid on the Ash Empire outpost, Aerin finds himself locked in a tight chase with Princess Valax. The labyrinthine dungeons beneath the Shadow Court Fortress stir up some of his darkest memories. Will he be able to escape Valax, or the ghosts of his past?

A/N: Post book 2 chapter 8. The story is mostly inspired by @secret-fungi with a little bit of @spacetravels. Valax is very OOC in that I made her so evil (for the plot!) I actually feel kind of bad about it. Also, shamelessly using this as an opportunity to practice writing action sequences. Enjoy (you won't).

Taking a sharp left, Aerin dives into the secret alcove behind an inconspicuous shabby tapestry and slowly slides down the cold stone wall, greedily gasping for air. Thank the gods he has memorized the layout of the dungeons beneath the Shadow Court Fortress so well, even if the Ash Empire has… redecorated the place since they took over. Admittedly, he hasn't had the chance to properly look around—and he really, really hopes to keep it that way. Still, this little chase, unfortunately, left him enough time to notice the fresh blood spatters in some of the empty cells and hear the blood-chilling screams of unfortunate souls trapped deeper in the labyrinth of these wretched hallways.

'Lovely,' Aerin mutters to himself, allowing his eyes to close for just a second. 'Very lived-in.'

His solace is hopelessly fleeting, shattered by the distinct clicking of heels against cold stone. Distant for now, the footsteps echo ominously in the dim candlelit hallway—the only path that could lead Aerin to freedom. And each one of them is louder than the last.

'The famous Prince Aerin,' Valax's voice seems to resonate through every nook and cranny of the dungeons, a low purr of a big cat about to jump its prey. 'Please forgive us for the cold welcome, your highness. We didn't realize we would be receiving such an esteemed guest.'

So they have identified him already. That's unfortunate, though not entirely unexpected. One of the guards must've recognized him during the earlier scuffle. Aerin bites his tongue, fighting the urge to curse, knowing that any sound would instantly reveal his hiding place. It was supposed to be a straightforward mission — get in, grab the supplies, get out. Two hours, maybe three, tops. Or it would be, hadn't he run directly into a squad of the most elite Ash Empire soldiers, led by Princess Valax herself. Why was she here, anyway? Last he checked, she was supposed to be chasing Ray and her merry band of intrepid adventurers all over the forests of Morella.

And yet, here she was.

'I've heard so much about you, you know. It's almost as if we're acquainted in absentia.'

Of course she has. Aerin knows what they say about him in the Ash Empire. Dreadlord's errand boy. His resident Lightrealmer lap dog. His little—

Aerin bites the inside of his cheek, hard. Distracting him is precisely what Valax wants. The self-pity can wait until after he's free. Now, he needs to think.

His bag of supplies has grown much lighter after he parted ways with Ray and others. The Shadow Realm's charred wastelands can be challenging to find herbs in. Especially the healing ones — the migraine has been killing him. And the skirmish with the soldiers earlier has depleted his already very unimpressive reserves even further. But surely, he can come up with something?

His fingers fumble through his bag, searching for something—anything—until finally closing around a half-empty pouch of dry resin, and Aerin clutches it so tightly that his knuckles grow white. Yes, it isn't much, but it will suffice—and at that moment, that's all he's asking for.

The approaching footsteps grow uncomfortably closer, each one counting down the seconds before his demise. Aerin's heartbeat matches their eerie rhythm, but he's ready. With swift precision, he sends a tiny pouch of flaming resin skidding across the floor toward Valax's feet and the next moment, it erupts in a thick cloud of bitter black smoke. Aerin launches. He can feel the rush of air as Valax's hand nearly grazes his hood, but the surprise is on his side. Twisting like an eel, he slips away from her outstretched grasp and bolts.

He knows better than to believe that his little diversion will stall Valax for long, his instinct keen as ever. Behind him, a fierce gust of wind, strong enough to bend trees, sweeps the smoke away in one fell swoop. A second more, and it might have toppled Aerin too, but he lunges into the nearest open chamber just in time. Behind him, the heavy metal door slams shut with a deafening boom.

The room he finds himself in is peculiar. A large, dimly lit chamber welcomes him with the quiet hum of strange machines, the ticking and clicking of odd knick-knacks and the soft glow of iridescent vials. Metals cages bare their bars ominously in the dark corners of the room. His gaze takes it all with greedy interest. At a better time, Aerin could spend hours here, figuring out the purpose of each strange device and weird contraption. Now, though, he scarcely has a moment to take cover behind one of the towering metallic cabinets and calm his breath. Just in the nick of time before the door opens again.

Valax pierces the room with her dark, heavy gaze, no doubt noticing every minute detail before stepping inside. Her steps are slow and deliberate as she circles the room, a shark sensing the smell of blood, and each time her heel connects with the floor, it's a sledgehammer blow to Aerin's temples.

'Your friend Reina told me so much about you, you know,' Valax purrs.

Every one of her words is a stone in an avalanche. But it's not even the words themselves; it is the sheer wrongness of hearing that name uttered by this voice that truly shakes Aerin to his very core. He knows Ray is not particularly fond of her full name, not really. She told him she'd always found it too old-fashioned. It made her sound like some stuck-up Whitetower noble, she said.

Unless it was him who called her that.

'Ah, we've had so many wonderful times together. In this very room, actually,' Valax continues. From his vantage point, Aerin can clearly see Valax's hand as it tenderly caresses the large stone table in the centre of the room. As his eyes follow her movement, it dawns on him that the table has leather straps at each corner. 'Yes, she became quite talkative at times. Especially after I treated her to a bit of belladonna and dreamroot tonic.'

A chilling shiver slithers down Aerin's spine. He's familiar with the effects of belladonna tonic. Thank Vostrasz, that sadistic bastard. He loved dosing his victims with this vile concoction and watching them as they screamed, unable to escape the visions of their worst nightmares. Aerin has witnessed its effects once, the memory carved into his mind. A young man, skin glistening with cold sweat, empty eyes with freakishly wide pupils staring at something only he could see, dry lips whispering a desperate plea as tears streamed down his face.

As if compelled by some wicked force, his gaze is drawn back to the stone table. For a haunting second, he can see Ray's lifeless body sprawled upon it. Bile surges in his throat. He shuts his eyes and clenches his fists.

'She screamed so loudly. Screamed until she had no voice left to scream with. Would you like to know what she screamed, your highness?'

He needs to get out of here.

As Valax turns her back to him, Aerin seizes the opportunity and hurls a small pebble to the far corner of the room, where it lands in a tiny clink. Valax's head snaps towards the sound, and Aerin jumps, throwing his whole body onto the massive cabinet serving as his cover. The cabinet creeks, staggers, and topples right towards Valax's head. Vials and boxes spill across the chamber in a cacophony of clatter and crashing. Amid the ensuing chaos, Aerin rushes towards the exit, swiping a bunch of supplies laid out on one of the side tables into his bag.

Unfortunately, he doesn't make it all the way. Valax, with her inhuman strength, halts the toppling cabinet mid-air with a single hand. Crouched behind an overturned table, Aerin can see the dark veins pulsing on Valax's forearm as she holds the cabinet still for a moment, metal crumpling like paper tissue under her fingers, then shoves it back into the wall. One of the glass vials must have shattered against her forehead because he can see a strange iridescent liquid mingling with dark blood as it slowly trickles down her brow, but otherwise, Valax doesn't look hurt at all. Just pissed.

Holding his breath so as not to make a single sound, Aerin frantically sorts through the ingredients he managed to snatch. There is some dry hemlock and foxglove. A vial of dragonfly wings. A pouch of saltpetre and sugar. Oh, if only there was sulphur… Please, let there be sulphur…

In his frantic state, Valax's voice is cold and still like a blade. 'Don't do it, Aerin. That's what she said... She seemed so scared, too. Terrified. I wonder what you did to scare her so badly, your highness?'

Aerin grits his teeth, forcing his hands to keep working through the tiny vials, but his mind is, unfortunately, much harder to control. He knows nothing of Ray's nightmares—there is no way he could know—but he's got plenty of his own. And as Valax's words keep ringing in his ears, one in particular raises its ugly head.

Smears of blood blooming on the throne room floor. A portal buzzing with dark magic. Tang of metal and ozone in the air. Nia—the priestess's limp body in his arms. He tries not to look at her face—it's easier this way. Instead, he only looks into the portal, Shadow Realm's lifeless landscape spread out before his eyes. He's so close. One tiny step away. But just before he's about to take it, he glances back.

Briefly, his mind registers Mal's face, twisted with rage. The terror in Tyril's eyes. Imtura's teeth bared in a scorching scowl. But in the end, it's her face that is burned into the back of his eyelids.

Her cheeks, oddly wet. Her body, trembling ever so slightly. She looks so tiny at that moment. So lost, like a puppet with her strings cut. And so utterly, heartbreakingly sad. She doesn't make a sound, but her lips curve around the words, and Aerin swears he can hear her voice as she pleads, 'Don't do it.'

'Maybe you should try being afraid of me as well!' Aerin erupts, letting go of the pent-up anger as he hurls the burning concoction he mixed up at Valax, then dives through the doorway. Behind him, the makeshift bomb explodes with a deafening roar of fire, its fiery breath shuffling the hair on Aerin's nape. The skin on his hands and knees burns, scraped from the clumsy fall. But the pain is so worth it. So worth the feeling of dark satisfaction blazing through his veins. Having this place where Ray suffered countless days and nights reduced to ashes… It's invigorating.

Celebration will have to wait, though. Aerin knows that destroying Valax herself won't be as simple as her laboratory. The echoes of the explosion still ringing in his ears, he scrambles to his feet and takes off in the direction of the dungeon's exit.

He doesn't get far before the sinister sound of Valax's approaching footsteps reaches him again.

'So, the Dreadlord's little lapdog has some bite, too. Still, that won't be enough,' Valax… giggles? It's a disturbing, chilling sound that makes the hairs on Aerin's arms stand on end. 'Unfortunately for you, you don't have quite the same… effect on me as you do on the Realmwalker.'

In this dark, horrifying dungeon, her voice rings with eerie delight, as if she's remembering a very funny joke, and Aerin is not in on it.

Aerin has no time to dwell on it, though. Reaching a crossroads, he takes a sharp right and, hiding behind the corner, steals a glance over his shoulder. As expected, Valax is closing in, tendrils of smoke and shadow swirling around her body as though she carries a piece of the very fire he started on her.

'You see, the Realmwalker and I have spent so much time together. Months… Why, I would almost consider us to be close friends! And she has told me many, many things over those months… About you, too! Aren't you curious, little princeling?'

Why are you listening to her, his mind screams out. She doesn't know where he is. She's just baiting him. Trying to get a reaction, provoke him into revealing himself. There is no reason to believe a single venomous word that escapes her lips.

'I'm sorry, Aerin. That is one of my favourites. Do you like it, princeling?'

Lies, lies, lies, every single word of hers. After all, whatever would she ask his forgiveness for when everything… Everything is his fault. And yet, as Valax's words echo in his ears, Aerin swears he can hear her voice—

Ray has always been so strong. He's seen her in battle, the hero of Morella, as deadly as she is beautiful. But her heart… He knew her tender, bleeding heart. Always too kind to people who didn't deserve it. To people like him.

Of all things, his mind goes back to the night of the fair in Riverbend—their night. He remembers her skin, dressed in nothing but candlelight, her body melting under his touch like wax as he kissed her thighs. The mighty hero, in his arms, exposed down to her very soul. It struck him then, the power he held. At that moment, he could break her. It wouldn't even be hard.

The thought terrified him. He had power, once. And look where it got him. Power… It brings out the darkness within people. Most live and die without ever truly experiencing it, but Aerin has seen his shadow already. He looked it in the eye. And that is how he knew he could never allow himself to touch her again.

He clenches his teeth and tries to melt into the shadows, away from Valax's piercing gaze.

'Come back, she said. Oh, why wouldn't you come back to her, princeling?'

Aerin knows he shouldn't listen. But every word that falls from Valax's lips is a drop of acid eating away at his very soul. Perhaps that's why he doesn't notice the shadowy tendril winding around his ankle.

Pale rays of early dawn filter into the tent as Aerin hastily packs the last of his admittedly unimpressive belongings.

Ray still lies amidst the crumpled sheets, her hair tousled on the pillow. She's asleep, yet her brows are still knitted together in a painful frown.

That night, he didn't sleep at all, the chatter of his own thoughts too loud to let him rest. For a while, he just laid there, silently studying her face. She whimpers in her sleep. What awful things does she see when she closes her eyes? He didn't know; he just stroked her hair tenderly until she seemed to calm down. Her frown never went away, though. Why is it that every time she is with him, she looks like she's in pain? The thought made him feel ill.

Finally, he secures his bag and steps toward the exit, his goodbye letter resting on the nightstand. Before him stretches the forest that skirts the edges of Riverbend, tranquil and beautiful in its robe made of golden dew. But just as he's about to step into the dawn, he glances back. He just can't help himself.

As though sensing his gaze, she stirs in her slumber and raises her head. Aerin freezes. Her lavender eyes twinkle for just a second, half-obscured beneath the heavy fawn lashes. From her perplexed expression, it is clear she's not yet fully awake.

'Aerin?' she exhales.

'Yes,' Aerin replies, the word sticking in his throat. 'It's me.'

He's utterly still, fearing that any sudden movement or noise will awaken her further, revealing him standing there. Fully clothed. With his belongings in tow.

'Come back,' she asks, her feather-soft voice piercing right through his heart.

'I'm just getting some water. Go back to sleep.'

It's so hard to keep his voice straight, but he manages. He's lied for so long it's become second nature. Finally, Ray lets out a compliant hum, seemingly convinced by his words, and falls back onto the pillow. Aerin lingers for a few more moments, then finally walks away. Her voice still echoes in his ears, but his mind is made up. This is for the best. If he stays away, he won't be able to hurt her again.

That's the lie he keeps telling himself.

The shadow yanks him closer to its master. Aerin almost loses his balance but rolls away at the very last second. In one fluid motion, he draws a short blade from the sheath on his shin and slices through the tendril, freeing himself.

But it's too late. Valax stands in front of him, and behind his back, the corridor stretches into a dead end.

In one last desperately hopeless attempt, he tightens his grip on the hilt and lunges at Valax.

'Help me,' Valax whispers, the plea laced with cruel amusement.

His stomach drops, and his head spins, but he almost manages to keep his composure. Almost.

Valax leans into his attack, sidestepping at the very last moment, and strikes his wrist with an open palm, sending his dagger clattering across the dungeon floor. Her other hand grabs his throat and slams him into the wall like he weighs nothing at all. The back of his head connects with stone in a hollow thud. It's over.

Valax's clawed fingers tighten around his neck as she studies his face with a ruthless smile.

'You'll serve as bait quite nicely,' she declares.

'You're wasting your time,' Aerin chokes out. 'She won't come for me.'

But his lie rings hollow. He might have believed it once, but not anymore. Not for a while. As if reading his mind, Valax smirks.

'Oh, but I think she will.'

Ray will come for him. Once upon a time, this thought would've filled his stomach with butterflies, but at this moment, it sounds like hollow dread. She will come here, into the Shadow Court Fortress, right into Valax's eager clutches. Because of him.

How foolish he was to think that her anguish would end if he just stepped away. Even now, even here, he's still putting her in danger. Still hurting her. He really is good for absolutely nothing, isn't he?

Darkness begins to engulf his vision, but just before it consumes him entirely, Valax abruptly releases her grip. Aerin collapses to the ground, his body limp, coughing violently.

'But until she does, we have much to discuss,' Valax says, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling until Aerin meets her gaze. Her eyes are dark and cruel as she studies his face. Then she grins. 'I wonder if you'll scream her name too, little princeling.'

She doesn't need to guess. She knows he will.

#probably shouldn't post it just a few hours before the new chapter but anyway #almost put the genre as 'emotional torture porn'#playchoices #my writing #blades of light and shadow #aerin valleros #oc: ray nightbloom

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