All The Best Mistakes Have Last Names

[Ellie Mors]

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LqZ6nmESviY[/media]​

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[member="Danger Arceneau"].

A name she wasn't exactly comfortable seeing anymore, and a woman she did not exactly care to know. Any woman that would cut off connections with a man like her husband for reasons as superficial as telling her his past was not worth the time of day to her, but it had hit Alric hard and she noticed it immediately. There were moments on their wedding day that she saw him look as though expecting the buxom red haired queen of trade to arrive, only to be disappointed by another. As much as she wished he would grow to accept it, she knew he was like a child in that regard - he never would get over it, and she would need to do more than be there for him to help him cope. So she took a large step out of her own comfort zone when she personally made a call to meet with the trade queen in person, at a place of the woman's choice, for a few choice words over hot, caffeinated, beverages. She'd told her assistant, Leena Haven, to remain at the office to do paperwork for her and insisted on traveling alone - much to the disdain of the young aide.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

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S C H A T Z O P E R A H O U S E ​

E M P R E S S T E T A ​

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[member="Silara Kuhn"] would remarkably not have to go too far to meet up with the Queen of Trade. Not far at all. The new bride would receive a simple holographic card as an answer; granted two weeks later. Upon the holographic display, in delicately scripted Aurabesh, three little words would indicate the location Danger Arceneau would have that cup of caf with the would be Empress of Teta.

The Schatz Opera House. A recently historically renovated opera house, it featured the classic baroque design much like the ornate artistry of the world's architecture following the great Hyperspace War. It was a symbol of rebirth for Koros Major, a step forward towards regaining a small bit of history and culture back. In the wake of the Netherworld, it housed one of the last remaining, oldest and traditional orchestras in the galaxy. In here, tradition and innovation are at the Schatz Opera House's program, breaking through barriers and once again filling the halls with the melodic strings of old.

Vast intricately carved balconies would overlook magnificent gardens, enhancing the natural beauty and light of the Tetan sun. It was here that one particular private overlook would be held in reserve for this particular rendezvous. A small table with a white lace cloth. Bone china gilded with an aurodium edge, hand painted with an artisan's care.

Perfect. It was a beautiful summer day, not a cloud in sight. Not a storm to be seen. Not a single shadow to be cast upon the two empty chairs lying in wait for their respective patrons.

At least, not the kind that could be seen with mere eyes.

Danger stood near the railing of the balcony, that bright vibrant hair of hers glistening like spun Corseca gems. Breezy, full hipped and curvy in all the right places. What red blooded sapiant would let his eyes wander?

Well few knew the truth of that answer save Dangeruese Rose Arceneau herself.

She appeared to be as aloof as a cat, the way she was standing back and seemingly watching the 'verse without expression. Smoke rose from the vice she held between two fingers, ribbons of blue white drifting into the air. The narcotic would steel nerves none would know were frayed.

After a second she would bring the vice to her lips, taking a long slow draw off her cigarillo, giving a seemingly detached look around. Thoughts came to the fore. Thoughts of her. Of him.

A slow blink of feline emerald eyes would bore into the perfect breezy afternoon.

Do you know what you are doing, Miz Danger? The question had been asked of her, Aeri's voice drifting from the coils of memory en route to the Deep Core. The Zeltron aide confused that she would accept the request. Aeri didn't understand, as much as her Zeltron nature made her more apt to know of the games of love.

Rhyme and reason, her momma always said. It is the smallest of decisions that send a life spiraling off course.

I always know what I'm doing, Aeri. came the soft husky reply, It's what I've done that I'm not so sure about.

 

[Ellie Mors]

The woman who strode down the street, blending in with the crowds and the masses, had a slightly different appearance than she had some months ago. Her hair was darker, brown, and she worse much more well-placed makeup. Where a blank stare had been was now one that was aware, searching. Her eyes shimmered in the light and glowed faintly under the cover of shadows that hung over the walkways. Perhaps one could call her a completely different person - a lot could happen in four months. It suited her, Silara that is, for Danger to have chosen such a venue for their private talk, no better place for conflicts to be addressed and lessons made. When she was a small girl she had made her way to the core in order to join the Sith, and on occasion that journey had led her to the planet she now called home. At the time it was practically abandoned, perhaps twenty or so years ago, but its rustic beauty cast a sharp influence on all the buildings which surrounded it, and left an impact on her developing mind. But she hadn't come to discuss opera with the queen of trade, rather the cup of coffee was a thin cover for inviting someone that had left her husband vulnerable. If not to fix whatever problems lay between the two, then to smooth things over. If it made Alric happy, it was going to make her happy.

Her light footsteps hardly made much of a sound, but it was still noticeable as she approached the lady standing out on the balcony. Her smile was still not present, not once had she laid her eyes on the red-head in person, their only meeting had been at Alric's side while still blind. "It is peaceful on Teta, is it not?" Came the rasp to declare her arrival, staring directly at her. She paused for a moment, whether to let [member="Danger Arceneau"] speak her mind or to simply breathe in to brace herself. The only thing she knew of the woman was that prior to Silara breaking the trust between two friends Danger was an extremely caring woman as far as she could tell - that strange feeling of fingers running through her hair still lingered to this day. Quietly she moved over to the chair opposite the side of the table closest to the other woman, carefully positioning herself with a posture that she found suitably proper. "I hope this isn't as uncomfortable as I think it might be." Silara added, carefully eyeing the woman to gauge her reaction.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Danger considered [member="Silara Kuhn"] for a long moment, watching the woman gracefully slip onto her seat. Her head had swiveled from the panoramic view onto the would be Empress of Teta -- my what a curious curio -- and drank the sight in.

Oh it was there in the eyes; she could see now. There was something to them that was not quite organic, but with her past interactions with Jorus Merrill, she knew cybernetic implants when she saw them. There was always a tell tale glimmer about them, and for a woman keen on taking on every subtle detail in business, it was something that would not be missed. Verdant emeralds would lock upon vibrant tourmaline in quiet contemplation, the slow trail of smoke rising from the vice between her two fingers.

Her expression would be unreadable save for the slight arch of piqued interest. Was this the vulnerable looking woman who had fallen apart at the Gala? The one she had provided a measure of counsel and comfort?

Time certainly has a way of building a spine in a woman. To a degree, Danger could respect that. She had, after all, lived it.

"Compared to the last six years," a lightly accented, cultured voice would drawl from the Queen of Trade. "Reckon one could say it is." Empress Teta had been the battlefield of two invasions; once by the Republic and another by the Mandalorians. The last resulting not only in severe destruction of Cinngar but in the deaths of Fiona and Violet Kuhn, Alric's only remaining family.

Not so alone after all now, though hmm? She'd muse to herself. Oh there was no missing the subtle curve over Silara's belly. To be frank, Danger wasn't really surprised. A woman could take an immeasurable amount of heartache, more so if one simply acknowledged what one could control and what one could not.

But it didn't stop the pang and the remembrance of where she'd been in the exact same position with Alric two years ago.

"One can only hope it so remains," she'd continue, her slow amble from the balcony over towards the table drawing her closer. Now what was it that the woman so desired? Oh there was no denying that Alric had spilled secrets that he had once promised to never utter to another soul; so the question now was what Silara so wanted. There were reasons why that singular breach of trust had hurt so; it had been her only request.

Having Alric break it knowing her fears and her concerns made the cut all the more deeper.

She would slide into her chair, a drape of a body that was seemingly well aware of her allure and sensuality. Had Alric been here, he'd have seen through her charade, knowing her well as he did. Much like he, Danger wore a mask, and in this, being in front of the woman Alric had chosen to be with for the rest of his life, she felt a dire need to wear one.

"Pardon for the tardiness, but I hear congratulations are in order, Mrs. Kuhn." she'd smile that light smile, cordial enough to be as sweet as candy. Proper and following all the manners and courtesies of a good hostess.

A flick of her finger would send ash scattering to the floor, a small swirl as the cherry tip would flare brightly with another deep inhale. After a moment, she spoke, spicy white smoke flowing from between her lips, "Uncomfortable?"

The corner of her mouth would perk in feint amusement.

"Well now, reckon that depends on just what this little conversation over caf is about." she stated plainly. There was no need to mince words. What was done was done.

 

[Ellie Mors]

'So she hasn't realized why I wanted to talk to her..'

She was mildly disappointed at that, it made things all the more difficult for herself to bring up the subject she'd called the woman out for. It was so ironic for her to be so shy and reserved when she stopped pretending she was somebody else, and it was mildly worrisome that the woman could, at any moment, ruin her forever if she were to even begin to dig. "Thank you.. I was hoping.." She muttered, clearing her throat when she realized how small her voice was, and sat forwards to look at her guest before continuing. "I want to do something to bridge the rift in your relationship with Alric." Silara continued, carefully choosing her words in the case that she might slip up and accidentally speak out of turn. She'd heard of her husband's grief at being distanced from his best friend, and though it was a little disheartening to hear that she couldn't take that place it wasn't in her to try to control her husband's life. At least not in a way that she felt he would prefer.

"I will be frank in that I do not know you, personally, but I would like to try to make things.. better.. between you two. He sees you as his best friend, and it is hurting him that he can't have you around." She explained while she tried to search her thoughts. The more she delved into the subject the less comfortable it was for her - she felt like she was handling someone else's problems, and chances were that her husband would not forgive her for trying to smooth things over for him. "I am aware that something I said might have led to your falling out with him, and I would like the chance to both apologize for what might have made things difficult as well as do what I can to ask you to give him a second chance." She said, carrying on with her ramblings, while she looked up at the woman without much expectations toward a positive discussion. She had felt much more confident at their brief introductions than she was now, and could only wait for [member="Danger Arceneau"]'s reaction.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

For a few seconds, it would appear as if Danger Arceneau was oblivious to the dirty laundry [member="Silara Kuhn"] had hung up to dry, so aloof as a cat was she. Few would reckon say she almost had a big head, the way she sat back and watched the 'verse without an expression. It was anything but reality within. Danger was the eye of the storm; outwardly calm with mirror slicked seas, inwardly bracing herself for that hearty dose of uncomfortableness talked about earlier.

Nothing would reveal itself, however, Danger was good on that. Maybe she did that too well. Maybe had she'd been a bit more open, she'd be sitting in the other woman's stead.

But if there was one thing her momma done taught her, is that there was no use crying over spilt milk.

Taking a long slow draw off her cigarillo, Danger would seemingly give a detached look from Alric's wife down to the vice she held between her fingers. She would study the glowing ember tip, watching the slow lazy rise of smoke.

Then her eyes landed on her, bright vibrant green akin to Endorian moss. Feline and slightly slanted, almond shaped and lined with dark kohl. She would blink once, twice. Finally, the woman gave a slow exhale through the corner of her mouth, blowing a stream of spicy smoke to the ether.

"Mrs. Kuhn," she began with that honeyed rasp and twang, her head turning to incline to the right as she would drink in the sight of the woman that Alric had betrayed her trust to.

"It wasn't you." came her low breathy admission. "Ain't got to do with anything you've done 'tall." therein came that clarity. "You're only guilt, if one could call it that, is simply being a bit too keen on smoothing over things where it is best left to let sleeping kathhounds lie." came the idiom in a breathy murmur, indicating that it was best to not disturb the situation as it was, for it just might result in trouble or complications thereafter.

A small flick of her fingers would scatter ash to the floor, the seemingly quiet and casual beauty of the afternoon a contract to the tension that grew between the woman sitting across from each other. Oh, not at the other, but more about the situation and the tumble of dominos that had them both where they were now.

Danger's appraising and piercing stare would sweep over Silara's own, taking in what manner of subtle distinctions and reactions to her words. Now why was she here, speaking for Alric? It was doubtful Alric would send her, he'd know that would irk her all the more. Not to mention, that bloody starforsaken fool was the sort to do his own chasing and hollering.

That was proven three years ago when he came to Tatooine stirred up as if a sparkbee had flown up his suit, all piss and vinegar, ready to give her a hollering like she wouldn't believe.

Although they both ended with more than that no?

Hearing Silara say that Alric was torn something fierce at their distance was an echo to what she felt herself. But there was more to it than that, for deep in that well of hurt was that tang of betrayal from someone she never expected it to come from. It was all the more tragic considering everything they'd gone through. How does one explain that? It was hard to forgive and forget. Not with her past, not where she'd gone, where she'd been.

After making it clear it was the one thing she desperately needed for him to keep to himself?

"And I reckon he'd likely say the same to you." she'd add, her eyes dropping towards the left to take in the view of the distant waterfall, bringing her vice back between her lips to take a deep drag, failing the brief seconds to hide the subtle tremble in those slender digits.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

There are just some things that are not meant to be.

Time might change things. Or maybe it won't. Either way, what is done is done. This had nothing, nor ever did have anything to do with Mrs. Kuhn.

Ultimately, it always has and always will revolve around the relationship Alric and Danger had forged in the three years they had been together. It was the trust. Not that he told Silara, but that he had broken his word.

Not a word, he'd told her back on Tatooine.

For a woman who had let the man in and seen her beyond the facade of the Trade Queen, having Alric break that was heart shattering as it was bittersweet.

Maybe what she said struck a nerve. Maybe it would register to the woman who sat in front of her. Who knew. The silence would reign. Pregnant. Tense. A finality.

Taking one last drag off her cigarilo, Danger dropped the spent butt onto the polished glass ashtray and ground it into memory with a twist of her fingers. A wisp of white smoke lingered at her parted lips as she gazed past Silara Kuhn.

The look in her eyes held a knowledge only another woman in love could tell. One would see unabashed, vulnerable longing in her eyes. One would see the hurt. The pride. The desire that would never stop eating her.

One would see love.

She loved Alric Kuhn. It went beyond the love of a friend. The love of family. She loved him. Even after he'd told her he loved another. Even after knowing there was no chance. Even after he had betrayed her.

Even with his wife heavy with child sat across the way from her, pleading for his case.

Danger still loved the man and always would. Loving something like Alric was a pain the 'verse did not envy. It was a storm she would have to weather.

It was likely as much of an honest emotion that Danger Arceneau would ever bare to another soul; but in that was an understanding.

There were things at play here that went beyond what [member="Silara Kuhn"] could ever truly comprehend -- and likely never will.

A twist of her mouth would quirk in a bittersweet smile, but there was a finality in her eyes.

"I beg your pardon, but this will have to be cut short," she'd excused herself, sliding back off her seat and then rising to her feet. The conversation was over.

Once again, ever cordial and ever pleasant.

"Enjoy the Opera House, Mrs. Kuhn. I personally ensured that the renovations were up to historic accuracy." It had been a gift to Alric after all. So named Schatz by the nickname he had called her before.

Treasure.

She gave an incline of her head.

"And farewell."



~Fin

 

[Ellie Mors]

Redacted