Private Across the Stars

[Isobel Serraris]

Location — Ukatis, Ascania Family Manor, Stables
Tags — Lysander von Ascania
Paraphernalia — Lightsabers, The Raven's Heart, Backpack

In the wake of the duel on Voss, the Force had refused to withdraw its claws from her skin. Night and day, the memory of the clash replayed in her mind--the battle with the Zabrak acolyte Naamino Zuukamano a constant reminder of how unprepared the Padawan was for the greater conflicts within this galaxy. The wars that would follow. The purple of his lightsaber bled into her nightmares, its hum a constant echo at the back of her mind--yet... its sound was not the same. It was distorted, dissimilar, flickering between a crimson and deep violet. In her dreams, her nightmares, it was always a Sith she faced: a vassal of Bogan, masked to hide their corrupted visage, to disguise the void where humanity should have been. She had only fought one such foe before. It had to be that Zabrak. There could be no one else. Yet... doubt clung to her mind, advocating for another possibility she refused to listen to.

One such night she did not awake to the sharp blade of her visions, but instead to the repeated buzzing of her holocom beside her bed. Though time flowed differently throughout the galaxy, it was unfathomable to believe someone would not be aware of the nighttime on Naboo--especially not someone with her holo-frequency. With tired eyes, she grabbed the device and tried to read what it said... Something, something, Ukatis. "Ukatis..?" The last time she had been there was to talk with Corazona von Ascania , a conversation that was both insightful and... strange. The implications targeting Lys, it kept her thinking, kept her distracted--and ever since his messages have not been accepted with the same warmth as before. It was only after that, that she discovered the '-L' at the end of the message, of course... She had asked him to show her around Ukatis sometime, and it would seem that time was finally upon them.

For better or worse.

The days after that were spent on packing her clothes (because of the ambiguity of his message, she packed plenty; a dress, her jedi robes, casual clothes and after some consideration, swimwear as well.) and adding the final refinements to the gift she had prepared for him. A raven-shaped pendant with a Dantari crystal at its heart. Though it may not match the grandeur of the armour she had been gifted, it would hopefully suffice as a gift. . . Once that was done, Isobel packed her things in a backpack and set out toward the planet through a transport ship--she should really invest in a freighter sometime, and some extra piloting classes of course.

Though the journey itself did not take long, it felt more akin to an eternity. As her mind kept flitting back and forth between the foreboding words he had messaged while she was on Voss, and the things Lysander's sister had asked about him. Part of her remained wary of trusting him again... yet he left her no room for doubt. He had been kind and charming, accepting her clumsiness as if it was nought. How could a boy like that ever harm anyone? The ideas kept coming as she made her way from Axilla to the coordinates she had been given over the holocom. In time arriving at the estate of the Von Ascanias, with purple banners visible here and there. Due to her casual clothes, the guards at the gate eyed her with suspicion, instilling a sense of doubt upon her--was she even at the right address? Though with a step forward, the young Padawan explained her purpose here and identity, and especially the latter was what allowed her passage into the estate grounds.

It wasn't long before she reached the estate's stables, loosely patting the horses she passed until she found the stall with a pinto mare, and a blonde-haired 'stranger'. "So, this must be Nari?" Isobel said with a smile, leaning over the stall door to look upon the mare. She reached out with her hand to the animal, trying to scratch her nose.

​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Isobel Serraris​

It was strange, and yet.. inevitable, that Naboo stayed with him far longer than expected. A week that began with a stroll through Theed, to seek out an old master, had shifted in a way he would have never anticipated. Somehow, it led him to a Padawan, a giver of flowers, a companion for tea, one who laughed in a way that felt like it could fracture him into pieces.. and still make him whole. The masquerade at the manor, the last night of that week, had ended in a way that seemed almost too perfect to be real. Naturally, true to himself, he had tried to dismiss it, tried to tell himself it was just coincidence, just luck..

But the memory of her hand brushing his, the amusement in her eyes.. that stayed.

And the message. A reply to one he’d sent. I pulled at him in ways he could not entirely name. One, two, three; sometimes a stream of words replaying in his mind, sometimes a pause that gnawed at him.. an echo of her hesitation. He could hear her voice in the holocomm recording even now, followed by the tremors of worry.

That only led to another shortly after. It had been foolish to send it so late at night. A part of Lysander even chided himself for doing such. That she had answered gave him the chance to return home, the chance to escape, if only briefly, from the teachings of the Desevro's Academy, from the perfection demanded of him.

And now, here she was.

At first, he paused at the edge of the stables, taking in the smell of hay as sunlight's warmth graced him. Ukatis had been home again for almost two days, and it already felt like something more than that.. something older, more tranquil. He wore a navy tunic, fitted but enough to move freely. Dark trousers were tucked into leather boots, completing the attire.

Just as anywhere else, he spent the early mornings hours before sunrise completing his katas after running. True to his routine, meditation would follow. In the afternoons of the first two days, he would wander to where he had once been drawn as a boy.. the stables, a quiet pond, and an old oak tree.

The air here was lighter, freer, and for the first time in weeks, he allowed himself to remember what it was like to simply.. exist.

Against the stall door he rested, absorbing her presence. The sight was delicate, the way she moved with care and unselfconsciousness. Nari, old a remnant of his childhood, had always been a piece of him carried everywhere. From Ukatis to the furthest reaches in the Outer Rim. Witnessing Isobel connect with the mare so gently and patiently.. it struck him with a power he had not expected.

Bootsteps carried him across the wooden floor, careful as to not startle either of them. “She’s grown a little older since I last saw her,” he murmured. The mare lift her head immediately, ears flicking toward him. Then, turning his attention to her, light played across his face. “You’re making her blush, you know.. that’s quite dangerous for one of her age.”

A small laugh escaped him, almost shy. “I suppose I cannot fault you for that."

The truths fell effortlessly. “You have a way with her.” The warmth within spilled freely, no longer hidden. "Maybe she’s just been waiting for someone like you all along.”

The memory of her words, how her family bred Guarlaras was still fresh, but it did nothing to lessen the warmth of what he saw now.

A sigh that left him next was soft. "I'm glad you arrived safely, Bel. The entire manor glows brighter with your presence."

 

[Isobel Serraris]

Location — Ukatis, Ascania Family Manor, Stables
Tags — Lysander von Ascania
Paraphernalia — Lightsabers, The Raven's Heart, Backpack

The white bits of fur extending the past the borders of the pinto's coat, his words spoke true--the mare was getting older. That truth brightened the glimmer of sorrow within his eye, within his murmured words. A type of pain that would always stay, no matter how much one might avoid it, the fear of losing... While she did not want to voice it to be a familiar burden, she did offer him an almost apologetic smile, before running her hand over the horse's muzzle. Her nails lightly scratching and ruffling the fur. "If they are anything like the Guarlaras we own, they prefer a calm approach--no sudden moves, it's why they tend to spook around children..." A light grumble left her lips, though she refused to let it cling to her. "Though... If nothing else works, they tend to be more than willing to listen with a Shuura bribe." Bel snickered.

After a moment she turned to him, trying to wipe the stray hairs from her sleeves. Isobel wore a wide-sleeved top in a crème fleuréline weave with pink flowers embroidered on its bodice, there were cuts at the shoulders, moving down she had a belt -- the same one as on her Jedi Armour -- where her saberstaff rested upon. Her pants were form-fitting, and in a dark brown shade, it was almost as if she were wearing Jedi robes... Her boots were tall and dark, made of a Nabooan leather. Her hair was put in two braids leading to a pony-tail, where her curls tumbled down her back. Perhaps she had put too much effort into picking her outfit... Though it wasn't often she could wear something other than the monk-like attire.

Before giving him another chance to move away, she once more threw her arms around Lysander. "I must confess... you woke me with your message," She mumbled against his shoulder, before moving back only a fraction, enough to look upon his face. "Not that it is on you, I-- I wake easy. The dreams and all of that." The Padawan's words were a feeble shield, for she failed to realise that she had not once mentioned her dreams at all. The only realisation that did struck her, was their closeness. She took an abrupt step back, drawing forth a meter or two between the pair. The waltz had left things. . . awkward. Inconvenient, mayhaps. Echoes of her departure that night still haunted her almost daily: how she'd wandered off without a proper farewell. And worse, how she had almost pecked him on the cheek. That had been most foolish.

A quiet thundered within the stables, unspoken words and thoughts lingering between them. Before it was broken by a loud thud, as a backpack fell onto the ground--the padawan following it as she searched its many pockets for that box. A repeated mumble left her lips, part agitation or part worry she may have left it at home--she can't have... right? Yet as soon as her fingers brushed against the strange fabric, that worry vanished, as she rose to her feet once more. Her hand remained behind her back, attempting to hide the box from his sharp gaze. "Though I wanted to have some florist here deliver you this. . . Well, the gift was expensive enough." Her words came out awkwardly, with the lines she had rehearsed on the transit going to dust the moment she arrived.

With a clumsy move, she drew the box back into view held it out to him. The box was small, covered in a deep red velvet, and held the name 'Izzy' on it, in fine golden letters--a nod to the nickname he used during that horrid message on Voss.

​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Isobel Serraris ​

His hand lifted almost without thought, hovering above the mare’s neck before descending with devotion, brushing against the warmth of her fur. The texture was comforting, grounding him. He felt the gentle hum of her presence as Isobel spoke, and it made him pause longer than he expected. “I imagine she’d favor that.. though I suspect even the most stubborn of mares might be swayed with a well timed Shuura bribe.” A small, amused curve lifting the corner of his lips, serving well to ease the shadows from his gaze. And in a way that few would understand, perhaps it was Nari’s spirit that seeped into his bones, capable of steadying that restless storm within.

Unlike the masquerade, he saw a shift in the Padawan’s stance when she reached toward him, arms opening. But this time, he didn’t hesitate; Lysander wrapped his own around her instantly, a little firmer than before, embracing her glow. He rested his chin lightly near the top of her head, where he caught the faint scent of her hair. Fingers tangled in her braids, and he found it impossible to prevent the shy smile which surfaced.

“So it’s my fault you woke, then? I did warn you.. sending messages might come with.. consequences.”

When she tilted like a petal, just enough to look up at him, his gaze followed instantly. Words pressed softly against him, and in truth, the part about her dreams didn’t entirely make sense.. Lysander hadn’t the faintest clue what images, or memories, might have been haunting her. But.. he wouldn’t let that show.. he would just stay true to himself.

“I hope my dreamself remembers to comb his hair?”

Lysander would ease a step away, letting the space between them settle like a sigh. Both hands fell to his sides, brushing and flexing lightly against the air. Regardless of how the masquerade night at her estate had ended, it felt perfect to him.. every moment had been worth it. Just like that night, he found himself drawn to her Light. In a rare state of calm and feeling comfortable, he was simply happy she had accepted his invitation, and in that small stretch of silence, nothing more truly needed to be said.

“You’re quite dramatic,” he breathed. A quirk of one brow was paired with the tiniest lift at the corner of his mouth. “For someone who already has my attention.”

Lost within the stables’ quiet cocoon, he drifted back only after the sudden strike against the ground. A box materialized, and twin emeralds danced, curiosity kindling in their depths. Then it was resting in his palms, cradled with reverence. Then, slowly, he lifted the lid, ready to disturb whatever secret lay inside. Nestled against the red velvet, lay a small raven shaped pendant, the soft pink crystal at its heart, suspended on a thin phrik cord.

His breath caught, quiet and soft, emeralds glimmering with wonder. He turned the pendant it gently, fascinated by the craftsmanship.. but even more by the thought that had guided Isobel in choosing it.

Warmth spread through his chest, like sunlight on his skin. First, he traced the curves of the raven’s wings. A quiet laugh escaped him. “A raven, huh… messenger and troublemaker all in one, I think I might be in over my head,” he murmured while tilting the pendant slightly, watching it catch the stable’s natural lighting.

Now, it was his cheeks that were tinged with the gentle bloom of color.

"Bel," and he tasted the name, savoring it in the tiny space between them. “You.. really didn’t have to, but I’m so glad you did. I.. wasn’t expecting something like this, and it’s.. perfect. I’ll treasure it.”

For a whisper, he caressed the clasp. Then, with grace, Lysander secured it about his neck, allowing the pendant to rest just above the rhythm of his heart.

His thumb brushed the cord at his collarbone, then he turned to her fully. "Now you have to tell me the story behind it."

 

[Isobel Serraris]

Location — Ukatis, Ascania Family Manor, Stables
Tags — Lysander von Ascania
Paraphernalia — Lightsabers, Backpack

His arms wrapped around her in an instant, drawing her into his shielded embrace. And though it startled her at first, the feeling of comfort was all that dominated her thoughts. His hand tangled in her braid and curls, though she refused to be bothered by it, for even the lightest breeze could bring chaos to them… even if this felt close to that. Part of her longed to stay there forever, to never let go of the moment--but that part was not Jedi-like, not… proper. And thus she moved back only slightly, her dark brown eyes meeting his emerald.

"I thought it was a joke," Isobel protested against his 'warnings'. The consequences had been ludicrous at most; a terrible verse, the midnight invitation, and the strange words from Voss. "You worried me with that message. The one that implied you were in danger, and-- It did not read like sarcasm or a quip." Her words were soft, while her hand twitched at her side, battling the urge to run a hand over his cheek. Worry glimmered in her eye as she studied his expression, trying to uncover whether he had messaged her the truth--or if she had simply misread his words. Part of her hoped for the latter, but she could not be certain yet.

While ambiguity clouded their conversation, his clear jest broke through like a ray of light, drawing forth a soft blush and quiet laugh from her lips before she stepped back. "Lys..? When did I say I dreamed of you?" She retorted, though no malice could be found in her tone. "And I am not dramatic!" She gasped, moving a hand over her chest, as if it wounded her like a blade to the heart. "If I recall, you were the one stating Jedi robes were like stage curtains." Her words came quickly, an attempt to mirror his teasing tone, though that had never her forte. Yet it was becoming more natural for her, easier, as if she was starting to learn when his words were jest… and when they were not.

Once he opened the box, she could not resist to step closer, to get a better look at his reaction, and whether the raven was still intact from the journey. To see the Aurodium glitter like the starry sky as it hung from his neck, the pink crystal appearing dark out of the light. It looked good on him--though she silently questioned whether silver would not be a more pleasant shade. "If you don't, treasure it I'll gladly take it back." She said, deadpan, the thought of explaining the metal purchases to her father made her wince lightly. Without a betrothal or some other political purpose, gifting a boy something so pricy was something to be frowned upon… and possibly to be punished.

Her hand found the pendant as she looked it over. "My family's crest holds a raven." She began, her voice soft and more aimed towards the pendant than him. "'Twas meant as a nod to me, without making it too obvious."The blush on her face brightened, as she dared not look him in the eye. "The base is aurodium. I am fond of the way it glitters when the light graces its surface. My lightsaber is made from it too." Her touch moved up toward the chain. "The cord's phrik, so nothing can easily cut or burn through it." Her gaze fell back upon the darkened pink crystal. "Jedi holocrons state it can recover energy spent in battle… but that's only for Force-sensitives." Her gaze finally met his, flicking between his features. "For you, it is nothing more than a pretty gem."

The Jedi stepped back again, turning her gaze toward the Pinto horse as she tried to cool the fire rising in her cheeks. "Did you have anything planned for us?" The query was an innocent, yet curious one. She had packed a thousand things, and still did not know what may be of use here. "I've been here once before, but only to visit the enclave--" Her eyes widened as the realisation struck her. "I meant... to tour some abandoned castles."

​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Isobel Serraris ​

The Padawan's words landed upon him like a feather against the chest.. light, a barrier shielding the blush beneath skin. It was something he had come to easily recognize during the few times that fate placed him near her. Lysander released a laugh, one that trembled on the edge of a sigh.

“Take it back?” he echoed, almost breathless, a little dramatic even.. if he were being honest. At the idea, his chest constricted, laughter and tenderness rising, far beyond any logic.. not that his behavior ever suggested he possessed much of it.

The Sith’s gaze drifted upward from the pendant, the raven poised gently against his chest, but it was not the pendant itself that held his admiration.

It was her.

A shy smile blossomed upon his lips, shattering the stillness. “No, Bel.. it’s perfect,” he said softly. “Not because of what it is, but because of you. The thought.. the care.. it’s impossible not to feel it.”

So, his touch lingered on the clasp, brushing it with reverence, before letting it rest against his navy tunic. The air itself seemed to hold its breath, a witness as she edged nearer. Lysander caught the faint nicker of Nari, and the golden hay, warmed by the sun, unfurled its fragrance around them.

The moment her fingers brushed the pendant, Lysander stopped breathing.. it was ridiculous, really, and he knew it.

Of what she spoke made it sacred, the volumes it carried for her, each detail a thread woven into something that would now adorn him everywhere.. across the stars.

Again, her cheeks flushed a deep hue, a rose blooming in the moonlight; at least, that's how he saw it. His head angled to meet her gaze, aware he needed to soften the intensity of his visage.

His voice slid forward, playfully, edged with that familiar shadow.. a quiet menace woven into the fabric of his words.. a familiar language for many who knew him. But, not so much that he would allow the moment to escape them. "You know I'm not one for subtlety.. I would have noticed, sooner or later.."

His knuckles brushed the chain where her fingers had just been, following the line with a thoughtful pull. “Phrik,” he echoed again, savoring the word. “You chose something even a Lord of the Sith would struggle to break.”

To mark the next thought settling into him, he tapped the cord lightly. The way his shoulders relaxed, the way he looked at her properly, it was in a way rarely allowed to anyone. “So, it survives heat, blades, whatever the galaxy decides to throw at it.” Even the following pause was warm. ”It sounds like you’ve basically guaranteed I’ll never manage to lose it.”

When it was labeled a pretty gem, something in the teen sharpened, but fortunately, not with offense.. he wanted to object to the holocron reference, to let her know it wouldn't be the Force that gave it power.. but the person who's hands it was placed in.

Gracefully, a slip unfolded with inevitability, deft and sure. To any other versed in the dark arts, it would have been a strike that found its mark, that treacherous gap where vulnerability waited unguarded. Of course. His sister's enclave. His sister, the Jedi. His opposite now. His own complicated blood.. and she stumbled right past that threshold.

But he had another problem in that crown of time, painfully aware of how awestruck she had left him. lest he allow it to muddle his thoughts any further. Clearing his throat, he looked past her shoulder, toward the rows of stalls lining the stable. A gentle pivot ensued, rather than drowning in her light.

“I, ah.. did have something in mind,” he murmured, letting the words stretch lazily. "Come with me.”

He stepped just ahead of her, leading past the pinto mare's stall until he stopped beside another horse: a red roan with a pale blaze down its nose and dark eyes. The animal raised its head the moment it sensed them.

“This is Solara,” he said softly, running a hand along her neck. “She’s a good listener, and does appreciate a gentle touch. Far better manners than I ever had, my.. eldest sister would tell you.”

He turned back to Isobel, unable to disguise his expression. “I thought.. perhaps we could take them out.” A small shrug, but his heartbeat betrayed him immediately. “There’s a trail that skirts the ridge and drops toward the old outer fortifications. Not a castle, technically, but…it’ll get us there.”

A stray strand of hair brushed across his forehead, and with a tilt, he flicked it away. “Truthfully, m’lady.. I don’t have a plan,” he admitted. “No map, no coordinates, not even a clue. I just thought we could ride.. see where the day takes us.”

The familiar loth-cat mischief became an invitation. “I’ll have you know, Nari and I are an unstoppable team. No obstacle has ever managed to stop us. And I can shoulder the weight of anything you need to bring. You’ll see.”

 

[Isobel Serraris]

Location — Ukatis, Ascania Family Manor, Stables
Tags — Lysander von Ascania
Paraphernalia — Lightsabers, Backpack

The thought that the pendant may survive an encounter with a Sith Lord was a terrifying thought, though a reality they lived in. Part of her longed to reassure him that that may never happen, but with Ukatis' system bordering the tyranny of the Sith Order, never... may not mean never anymore. Another part of her, longed to offer to guard him, to keep him safe, even if her last encounter with a Sith had left her doubting her own abilities--Isobel bit her tongue, letting the moment pass before she may utter any nonsense to him. Though she did offer him a faint smile, to let him know she was still paying attention.

When he began strolling past her, she turned on her heel to follow after him. Taking a brief moment to pick up her bag. The straps burned against her shoulders with every step, though she dared not speak of it aloud. "Oh! If you do lose the necklace, my father will likely send a bill for it." Her tone was light, cheery, though the light hesitation that followed it gave room for a sliver of unease--the kind of ill she may pray to Shiraya to remedy. Only a clumsy, mindless boy could ever lose or break something so precious… unless he had indeed meant to deceive her from the start.

Once they reached the next stall, Isobel tried to get a better look at the horse. They were built similarly to Nari, perhaps a bit shorter, though not much. In comparison to the Nabooan beasts, these were... small. Their legs were so... thin, so spindly. What strange creatures. But there was a kindness to their eyes, a sense of calm and understand that mirrored her own. When she extended her hand to the red roan, they studied it carefully before leaning in to lick the salt from her skin. Utterly startled, she withdrew her hand in an instant. "Cora did not speak so poorly of you." She attempted to comfort him, whilst wiping off the saliva on her jeans. "Solara is lovely--wouldn't say better manners, but fauna tends to have their own... habits, I suppose." A soft laugh left her, before she turned to face him entirely again.

A ride through the Ukatian countryside sounded pleasant, a gentle break from all the fighting and training of late. Though she may not be the brightest star in the sky, she could immediately figure out that going out without a plan, may end up with the pair lost in the wilderness (though she presumed he knew the nearby regions better than anyone). "So long as she does not buck me off," She began, trying to smooth over any remaining awkwardness. "We may need to pack some more things, should the day go sideways--" The offer was carefully made, to not dampen the excitement or imply a refusal.

Isobel's lips parted a handful of times, the words dying on her lips over and over again--nothing in her thoughts felt quite right. No words at least, but when she noticed a few blonde strands falling over his face again, she did not hesitate. With a soft 'let me', she reached out to brush them aside, before stepping back as swiftly as she had approached. "But... I think this day could be great~" She nervously confessed at last, her gaze flitting between the stalls behind him and his face. "And if it all goes up in flames, then at least I will have had fun... being here with you." Though words similar had been spoken before, this one felt different, and made her heart thud a little louder. The thought of getting to know him, not for a glimpse at a masquerade or for a single cup of tea, but a day--and who knows what may happen.

​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Isobel Serraris
​

A bemused hum slipped from his lips as Isoboel’s hand wiped the dampness away, a sound so gentle it mingled with the world around them. He inched forward, just a breath closer, a hand drifting to the roan’s flank, tracing the rough like he were caught in a dream. In truth, he could not recall a time when someone beyond Ukatis had chosen to seek him out, the Ascania manor veiled to many.

“Maybe she’s putting you through her own little test.” The words fell quiet. “She knows the difference between gentle and.. clumsy.” Trial by slobber? Stranger things had left the blonde before. “But.. I think you passed.”

To the shadows among the hay his gaze wandered, stirred by the mention of his sister.. clearly a figure he revered. A finger absently traced along Solara’s mane before he stepped away, pushing away memories before he found himself too contemplative. “Cora can be.. honest. But she sees things clearly. If she approves, that means more than words, I suppose.”

Perhaps it shouldn’t have surprised him. A Padawan from Naboo.. bright, careful.. connecting with Cora. He could see the pattern, the inevitability, and it carried its own poetry, really. Such awareness didn’t sting, for in truth, it was comforting. Ukatis clearly opened itself to the Republic, and Lysander could hardly oppose it. His homeworld had little to offer.. its people, its lands, its influence.. but now, with outsiders willing to bleed, if not die, for its sake, it had gained something it never truly possessed before.. devotion, loyalty beyond heritage. How could one argue against that?

Logic, here in the Mid Rim, was a rather curious and fickle thing.

One boot found the hay, nudging it lightly as his balance shifted. “I’ve ridden Solara enough to know she won’t toss anyone who’s kind. Or those who brings her snacks. Mostly kind.. the snacks are optional. ”

A chuckle dared to escape, and he found himself fortunate to keep it suppressed. If only his comrades in the Outer Rim could hear him now.. would they laugh at the absurdity? Or would they draw their lightsabers and declare him weak?

Probably both..

The Sith shook off the thought with a flick of his head, though the warmth in his chest at her presence made the notion feel harmless, almost.. human. Then, a note of mischief entered his tone. “We might need less than you think, but I shall carry the essentials.. or whatever you insist on bringing.”

Deep pools of green refused to look away from the movements of her fingers, a story only he could decipher, as it unfurled a slow fire along his spine, a foreign feeling, to be sure. For a ridiculous second or two, he was unarmed, completely exposed.. but not in danger. Just.. caught. “Lady Isobel..” Lysander’s voice cradled the name like it was precious, a vow.. realizing instantly he liked the way it sounded on the tongue. A shy laugh spilled forth. “So.. Lady Isobel, shall we see where the trail takes us first, or do you insist on tallying every precaution?”

Cheeks warmed, though not from the sunlight. “For all the chaos out there..” Orbs crinkled faintly at the corners as a flutter stirred within, one that was unashamed. “Doing nothing that matters to anyone but.. us. It.. sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

Before he could say anything that would make him sound even more foolish, Lysander pivoted smoothly back toward Nari’s stall. It was there he began to inspect the saddle, and had one looked close enough, they would see someone who treated even the simplest tasks like a sacred ritual. The leather was worn from years of use, carefully stitched. A thumb ran along the pommel. Finally, he tested the stirrups, tugging, and flexing the buckles.

The reins fell between his fingers, and already the teen could imagine his prized mare responding to his commands. Though she were older, he felt the muscles under his palm.

“Good girl,” he whispered. Stepping back, letting Nari settle, he hoped it offered Bel enough time to decide what she wanted to bring, which he prayed to Bogan didn’t mean three extra dresses, or twenty pounds of holocrons..

With a quiet hum, he finally led the Nari over to Solara’s stall.

 

[Isobel Serraris]

Location — Ukatis, Ascania Family Manor, Stables
Tags — Lysander von Ascania
Paraphernalia — Lightsabers

His reassurances were akin to a remedy to the burns inflicted by the recent happenings, the recent injuries. . . Injuries may be too harsh a word, given the foe bore more of a mental blade than physical. There was something about him, a charm, no, more akin to a kindness that cradled his words and deeds. The kind that made her feel. . . loved--though love was a word far too heavy to give thought, or breath. So the Padawan shrugged it off as swiftly as it arrived and declared her focus on his next words; the ones which implied she had brought more than necessary. And while it was true, she could never predict where this meeting might go, or have anticipated the horse riding he had just brought up.

At his words, she only let out a brief laugh. "You gave me no clue as to what I might be doing here, Lys." The defense left herself light-heartedly, while she plunged her backpack on the ground and began sorting through its pockets--trying to determine what might truly be of use on a trail ride. But in truth, nothing she was not already wearing would have any use. A dress? Completely irrelevant and clumsy to ride in. Not to mention a little too… risque... Yuck. The same went for most of the other items within, yet it did not make her feel sorry for bringing it all--being prepared was a better feat than the opposite. At last, she placed the heavy bag against the stable wall and returned her attention to where it belonged, rising to her feet.

While her gesture to move his hair aside was forward, his words made her blush brightly, the way his lips pronounced her name, it carried the gentleness which made her feel so at ease in his presence. Her brown eyes flicked over him again, uncertain whether looking his way may not worsen their tension more than it currently had. "Do not mock me..." Her words as gentle as the shade of flowers that grew by the gazebo in the Serraris gardens. She had imagined this was simply a pleasant meeting after their recent stumbles. nothing more. But the way he spoke of their enjoyment felt… unexpectedly grave. Not unwelcome, only. . . startling. "After everything that has happened, it would be nice to just enjoy ourselves." She murmured at last, and no need for explanation crossed her mind.

When Lysander left to get Nari, she turned her attention to the red roan--who was more interested in the hay in her stall. Her gaze shifted back to the saddle and bridle hanging beside the door. They looked similar enough to the tack used on Nabooan Equus, different in places. The bit was smaller, and the materials were not padded with wool, but in design they would not be so different. But surely she could manage saddling the animal on her own, right? With a bit of effort, the girl unlocked the stall door and stepped inside, running a hand over the mare's coat. The coat was thin and shiny, no need to brush it more than it already was, fortunately.

With a quick step, she turned back to pick up the heavy saddle, hoisting it up to just around her waist and dragging it toward the still-grazing mare. The weight was a burden upon her physique, the still healing wound along her ribs burned sharply, nearly forcing her to drop the tack again. An uncomfortable grunt escaped her as she heaved it onto the mare's back, forcing her to a pause. Isobel prayed softly to Shiraya that her friend would not find out about her injured state, and prayed that it would not worsen this day. Fastening the saddle and securing the bridle fortunately was an easier feat, their straps being secured as swiftly as she had grabbed it.

When Lysander and his horse came around the corner, Solara was nearly tacked up, with Isobel still busy fastening the girth. The mare pinned her ears flat against her neck in annoyance. "Oh just hold in your stomach, this is no worse than fastening a corset." Isobel said playfully to the animal, finishing the buckle before glancing up at her Ukatian friend. Her hand reached for the leather reins and led the mare out of the stall. "You told me you would show me around. . . Shall we?" The words followed her like a shadow as paced toward the courtyard. Using the nearby fence to climb onto Solara's back with a slightly louder groan than before.

Taking a deep breath to center herself, Bel looked over her shoulder, forcing a grin to appear on her face. "Hurry up Lys! It is terribly rude to make a lady wait."

​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Isobel Serraris ​

Nari’s hooves had been giving that soft thunk whenever he came back around the corner. Solara’s ears were flattened like blades, like she was ready to bite something, then he heard Bel’s corset remark drifted through the stable air which nearly choked a laugh out of him. Bogan help him.. that Padawan was trouble wrapped up in courtesy.

Lysander slowed his steps, watching the way she moved, noticing something else.. as though she were pressing through some kind of physical discomfort, something he understood rather well, and the groan that followed made him blink. It did make something tighten in his chest.. admiration, or concern, perhaps something in between. But it was the grin thrown at him afterwards that was adorable in the worst way, something between bravery and embarrassment, and the young woman’s voice brushed over him like fingers dragging slowly down his spine. Of course, he pretended it didn’t. The response it sparked from him was easy.. easier than anything in this galaxy had the right to be.

“I’m coming,” he called out, letting out a dry undertone. “Patience, Princess.” It suited her far too well.. sitting on Solara as if she’d been painted there. And maybe that was why he was trying, like an idiot, to play the part of some Ukatian knight.

Even Nari tossed her head as if reminding him he was talking too long. He shifted the reins to one hand and stepped to the mare's side, then set his leather boot in the stirrup. The Sith's frame rose, and a leg swung over before settling into place. Giving a light squeeze, they moved, and he closed to the distance between them, like there was an understood rhythm between both of the riders.

“I’m just making sure you’re actually ready before I take you anywhere.”

Not teasing her. Or maybe he was. A smirk nudged its way onto one corner of his mouth. “And try not to fall. I’d rather not spend the morning pulling you out of the dirt.”

Nari flicked her tail like she agreed.

Minutes later they crested a low ridge, the land unfurling before them in stretches of both gold and green. Ukatis breathed differently out here.. wide open.. kissed by the warm twin suns, humming beneath the wind. In the distance old stone walls cut through the fields, like they were forgotten relics, ancient estates nearly overtaken by wildflowers. The idea of showing her around first to some of the personal places was exciting, the side he’d grown up loving, instead of areas others might brag about. The trails, the horses, those pieces one only shared when they wanted to be understood.