Private A Heavy Burden

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: This
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
SHIP: Vigfjall
TAG: Quinn Varanin

The upper levels of the Obsidian Spire rarely knew silence.

Below, the capital of Jutrand stretched toward the horizon in layers of black stone, polished durasteel, and towering architecture that bore the unmistakable mark of Sith ambition. Speeders traced ribbons of light between soaring structures while construction cranes continued reshaping entire districts in preparation for the war to come. Shipyards on the outskirts of the city remained active despite the early hour, their massive silhouettes framed against the morning sky as transports and warships arrived in a steady procession.

Gerwald had watched enough campaigns begin to recognize the signs long before fleets crossed contested borders. Production had increased, troop rotations had become relentless, and even the pace of the capital had shifted beneath the weight of expectation. The formal declaration would come in time. For those responsible for fighting it, the war had already begun.

The Dread Wolf stood alone on one of the Spire's open terraces overlooking the city.

One hand rested against the dark stone balustrade while the other slowly turned a small carved wolf between weathered fingers. The figure itself held little material value. Years of idle contemplation had rounded its edges smooth, transforming it into something far more personal than decorative.

His thoughts were not on troop deployments.

Those discussions had already begun within the chambers of the Dark Council.

The High Republic had made its intentions clear, and the Sith Order had answered in kind. Fleets would mobilize. Legions would march. Every Lord, every Knight, and every apprentice would soon find themselves contributing to a campaign that would shape the future of the galaxy.

Gerwald had spent much of his life preparing for wars.

Experience had taught him how to win them.

It had never taught him how to ignore their cost.

His gaze drifted across the skyline before settling upon the landing platforms built into the side of the Spire. Somewhere beyond the towers and banners of House Lechner were people he had watched grow, warriors he had trained, and friends who had become something closer than either of them would likely admit aloud.

Quinn Varanin was among them.

She had not been summoned because she sat upon the Dark Council.

She had not been called because she ruled Eshan.

Those conversations would come soon enough, surrounded by maps, admirals, and strategy.

This meeting was something else.

House Lechner had never been defined solely by blood, and Quinn had long since earned a place within it. She had stood beside them through triumph and grief alike, had watched Aerik become the man he was becoming, and had shared burdens that no title could adequately describe.

Before the galaxy demanded they become rulers once more, Gerwald wanted a few moments to simply speak with family.

Soft footsteps approached behind him.

"My Lord," the attendant said with a respectful bow. "Lady Varanin has arrived."

Gerwald inclined his head once.

"Bring her to me."

The servant departed, leaving the Dread Wolf alone with the city for only a few moments longer before duty reclaimed them both.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Gerwald Lechner //:
//: Attire //:

A lot had happened since Gerwald and Quinn had been in the same room as each other. This wasn't the first time he had summoned her; the last time was to scold her, to teach her the lesson that she had failed to learn on Susvfi. It was a mission that cost Quinn her life, but in return, she had become smarter and stronger, and he offered a gift.

The blade lingered at the small of her back where it remained constant. She could feel its resonance, aiding her mental defenses, and the quiet warmth bleeding from its core. While her fear of the flame lingered, she knew if anything, she could wield it, bending her fear to her will.

As she moved towards where the Wolf waited for her, Quinn felt she had an understanding of what this meeting was about. She had told the man's son to ask him why he should stay away… she had also once again made quite a mess somewhere in the galaxy. Lucky for him, she had decided to finally stop sulking and continue her duties as a Sith Princess, Heir and Queen of Eshan.

First though, it seemed she needed to appease the summons of the Dread Wolf.

Quinn rolled her eyes. Since Humbarine and Tira, the young woman had changed. Unlike before, she no longer concealed herself within the Force. Her presence echoed through it, pulsing and churning with an unnatural hunger—a dreadful, ravenous thing; even the Living Force seemed to recoil and bow.

She was allowed in, and her annoyance was evident, but she respected the man as someone who had been a constant in her life. Hands folded behind her back.

Quinn didn't move further and let her eyes wander towards the skyline of the city. She didn't understand the meaning of this; in her mind, they were equals now. She sat on the council along with Gerwald; she had worked and made her voice heard.

Annoyance only grew, but she finally spoke.

"And for what reason did you call for me, Uncle?"

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: This
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
SHIP: Vigfjall
TAG: Quinn Varanin

Gerwald's stern expression softened into the hint of a smile as Quinn addressed him.

"You're far too busy to visit your uncle these days, Quinn. I finally decided that if I wanted to see my niece before the war began, I would have to send for her as a member of the Dark Council."

The warmth in his voice left little room for ceremony. Whatever this meeting would become, it would not begin with titles.

He motioned toward the pair of chairs that overlooked the capital before taking one for himself. Below, the city of Jutrand stretched across the mountainside in a testament to Sith ambition. New towers climbed toward the clouds while military transports drifted between districts, their engines adding a constant hum beneath the life of the city. Beyond the skyline, shipyards remained alive with activity as vessels departed one after another in preparation for a conflict that had yet to be formally declared.

His attention returned to Quinn.

The knife at the small of her back caught his eye almost immediately. He recognized it without effort. Years had passed since he had placed it in her hands, yet she still carried it where it could be drawn in an instant. A quiet satisfaction settled over him. Many gifts found their way into collections or display cases. That one had become part of her.

Then he looked beyond the familiar.

For years Quinn had possessed an uncommon talent for concealing herself within the Force. Even among Sith, few could veil her presence so completely without disappearing altogether. That cloak was gone. Her presence no longer lingered at the edge of perception. It filled the space around her with immense weight, pressing outward with an unnatural hunger that even set the wolf within the man at attention. It was restless and uneasy.

The Dread Wolf had encountered many manifestations of the dark side throughout his life. This was not one of them.

He said nothing.

Whatever had caused this change in Quinn’s efforts had become part of her long before she stepped onto the terrace. There would be time enough to speak of it, if she wished to. For now, he simply regarded the young woman he had watched grow from a stubborn girl into a queen.

"I'm glad you came."

It was a simple statement, offered without expectation.

"I've heard plenty about the escapades of Queen Varanin, lady of the Dark Council these past months. I thought it was about time I spent a little while with my niece.”

His golden gaze rested upon her. Everything which his tone or words refused to say could be found there. It was a look perfected by raising children.

A father did not need words to pry.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Gerwald Lechner //:

Quinn raised a brow. When she had entered, there was an air of authority coming from the Dread Wolf. But now, he softened, greeting her with endearment. Quinn wondered what the meaning of this meeting was. He could have easily holocalled her; both knew the other was busy —he had a military to run, while she had to figure out how to juggle every ounce of her life at once.

"Escapades?" She questioned, still cautious about what this all meant.

There had been a lot that had happened, particularly in the High Republic. Could this be about that? Frowning, Quinn wondered if her mother had told him about her excuse of a romance with a Jedi — one that ended with her heartbroken. She hadn't been chosen; she hadn't been offered an escape.

Nothing. She had merely been a distraction or something else for the Jedi. The more she thought about it, the more her brow furrowed.

Quinn cleared her throat and smiled at her uncle. He had something on his mind, but he seemed to not want to speak it. The girl wasn't foolish; she had been raised by one of the greatest minds the Sith had known. No, she had seen this look on his face before. He wanted her to admit; he wanted her to be forthcoming with whatever he wanted to talk about.

Internally, she scoffed; this was just an indication that they would always see her as a child, no matter how many titles she held over her head.

"My life has been quite boring, Uncle. Just filled with duty and paperwork." She tilted her head, with a smile as her hands rested against the terrace.

"Force knows how much you enjoy paperwork; I'd hate to indulge you on the politics of juggling three governments in one day." She sighed softly; learning about the politics beyond a monarchy was annoying. There were fine details that she often needed to write down and keep close just so she wouldn't forget them.

"Uncle," she started after a bit of silence.

"I do not enjoy this guessing game of yours. What is it that you wish to speak to me about…"

A part of her wondered, even dreaded, if it was about what she had told Aerik. She wondered if the boy had asked his father why he should stay away — why he should focus on his silly little romances with the girls who fawn over him like a celebrity?

"This is about Aerik, isn't it?"

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: This
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
SHIP: Vigfjall
TAG: Quinn Varanin
Gerwald's smile broadened just enough for a quiet chuckle to escape him.

"No." The answer came without hesitation. "No, Quinn. I didn't summon you here because of Aerik."

He settled back into his chair, allowing the words to linger between them. Of all the possibilities she could have named, she had chosen his son. The observation was not lost on him, but neither was it one he intended to pursue. Whatever existed between the two of them belonged to them alone. Aerik had reached the age where his choices, his triumphs, and his heartbreaks were no longer his father's to carry. If the boy wished to seek his counsel, he would.

"I am proud of him."

His gaze drifted toward the military traffic climbing through the morning sky above Jutrand before returning to Quinn.

"He still has much to learn, and I imagine he always will. The galaxy has a way of humbling us no matter how wise we believe ourselves to be. But when this war begins, I know where he'll stand, and I know the people beside him will be able to depend on him. A father cannot ask for much more."

A faint smile returned.

"He has loved you for a long time.”

The Dread Wolf found Quinn’s eyes. He knew the truth of who she was, but he also understood the place his son found himself. It had been Gerwald’s reality for too long.

“I suspect he always will."

The Lord Commander left the thought where it was. Matters of the heart had a habit of ignoring wisdom, rank, and even common sense. Experience had taught him that they were seldom improved by outside hands, and he had no intention of placing himself between two people who would have to find their own answers.

Instead, his thoughts settled on Quinn herself. He found himself wondering when exactly it had happened. At what point had the stubborn young woman he had watched grow become a queen in her own right, a ruler entrusted with worlds, and a member of the Dark Council who now sat among his peers? The change had come so gradually that he had scarcely noticed it until moments like this. Time had a way of doing that. It never asked permission. One day you looked up and realized the child you remembered existed only in memory, while the woman before you had quietly become someone entirely her own. The realization brought him no sadness. If anything, it brought a quiet sense of pride.

"I asked you here because we've both allowed duty to consume more of our lives than it should. Somewhere between councils, campaigns, and crowns, I realized the only time I seemed to see my niece anymore was when one of us had official business. The next time we find ourselves sitting across from one another may be aboard a flagship or standing over a holotable discussing a war, and I wasn't willing to let that become the only conversation we shared."

Gerwald rested comfortably against the chair, his eyes wandering across the city before settling on Quinn once more.

"Besides, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious."

The admission came easily, accompanied by another faint smile.

"Stories have a way of finding me whether I go looking for them or not. Most aren't worth remembering, but a few have made me wonder how my niece has been occupying her time."

He gave a small shrug.

"I'm in no hurry. We have time. I'd rather hear it from you than whatever version all this gossip wants to make of it."