Private An Ocean of Forgotten Fires

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

Corazona von Ascania

Makko had become accustomed to the fine houses of Ukatis. Whilst the cities and settlements had been rebuilt, the county homes had mostly survived the strife.

Dealing with Ukatis nobility was a challenge of its own. When he wasn't near Cora several had made very blunt requests for an explanation of his relationship.

An honourable man would explain the nature of his relationship! One had demanded. Fortunately he did not honor the Ukatis traditions, only his promise to Cora to avoid fighting.

With their racyons, the clean air and their duties, they had started to settle into life here.

The buildings that had belong to the Cholmondeley - however - still made him feel uncomfortable. When a sith had twisted Cora's memories he had helped her unwind the threads, but they had walked those darkest moments together.

Makko reminded himself that he hadn't been the one who had suffered those months. His wife had. He would face up to the past with her.

"What is this room?" Makko asked Cora as he felt a subtle shift in her feelings. They had slowed next to a door.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora drew in a slow breath through her nose. She held it as her fingers grazed the doorknob.

Locked.

Not with a palm scanner or a code - with a mechanical lock. The man who held the key was dead. There was likely more than one copy, but she wasn't about to go and track down a footman or valet. Were Horace's attendants still around performing other tasks, or had they all been dismissed?

This wing of the palace was scarcely traveled now that the Cholmondeley line had been put to rest. Fabian had own quarters on the other side of the palace, where the light was more inviting.

Mechanical fingers closed around the neck of the doorknob. A squeeze, a sharp tug, and the faint wine of servos as the latch broke. She exhaled sharply.

Cora passed the knob to Makko and gave the oaken door a little push. It opened with a stuttering creak, like the gate to a long-forgotten tomb.

Horace's study was just as she'd remembered it. There were no surprises here, so why was her pulse thundering so?

The first step was awkward and stiff. Cora felt as though she were pacing beneath the boundless gaze of some cruel, judgmental deity - and perhaps that wasn't too far from the mark.

Another step forward, and the air was stale. Her gaze panned over his desk, still neatly arranged with a stack of documents next to a quill and ink pot.

The hearth had long gone cold, but a distaste for cozy fireplaces still lingered in her. He'd pushed her to the ground only a few feet away, and in his first and perhaps most poignant act of cruelty, seared her bare skin with blazing iron.

Cora was careful to step around the spot where it happened. She caught flickers of her own memory, alive in the Force - the crackle of the fire, the scent of burned flesh, the desperate pitch of her own screams. They fell through her fingers like sand, and she felt each grain for only a moment.

Her feet came to a stop in front of the hearth. Mounted just above it was her first lightsaber.

I instead thought it more appropriate to celebrate the achievements of my once-Jedi wife, and to display it proudly, for when you or others visit my quarters.

Cora reached out, the fingers of her flesh hand hovering just above the saber's grip. Would she still recognize the crystal inside?

Would it recognize her….?

Digits wrapped around the hilt, and she felt threads of a familiar weave. The corners of her lips tugged upward, slightly so. Her next exhale came as a sigh of relief.

"Why don't you see what's there on the desk?"

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

Makko held the knob out in one hand as the door slowly swung open. Her terrifying grip strength in that hand could make him nervous.

As they stepped forwards he let his other hand rest upon her shoulder for just a moment. He felt the hesitation. He felt a slight nausea bubble up of his own. He had seen this room just once. It was a simple touch, little more than a reassurance that he was here with her.

Makko left her to her thoughts as she approached the lightsaber on the wall. It had never really been Horace's trophy; she had. A little warmth of anger washed over him. He let it pass, felt it and let it go. He was an emotional person, but he had learned that forcing feelings down was not the way to avoid the pull of the darkness.

At her suggestion he stepped up to the desk. He dropped the heavy door knob onto the surface. He placed two fingers on the stack of papers and woth one sweep he spread them out.

"Some political matters. A few petitions from Lords to offer daughters as concubines."

He glanced up at Cora, holding her old lightsaber. He offered a small smile. That felt satisfying. To see her claim that back and to have it with her again.

"You could always get that tattoo put back?" he said.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora snorted. She thumbed saber's ignition, and a green blade flared to life.

"Like he needed any more concubines."

It felt strange to speak this way. So strange. Horace was a creature that demanded reverence in the form of fear. For a long time, it had felt Ike disobedience to speak ill of him.

Cora let those thoughts carry themselves out as she observed the steady pulse of the plasma beam. She wasn't sure what she felt now, but she was no longer pinned beneath the heel of a powerful man in both body and mind.

The saber disengaged with a hiss. Cora cocked her head to the side, and for a few long moments, she did not speak.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "The skin there is too gnarled to ink. To put it somewhere else would be…"

There was a thoughtful lilt to the way she trailed. Cora half-turned towards Makko, but her body language was neither defensive nor overly anxious.

"It was a symbol of defiance. But I think we are a stronger symbol. And not just one of defiance."

Old wooden boards creaked as she stepped over the spot where Horace had thrown her down. Cora allowed the ghosts of the past to pass through her, and she reached for his hand.

"No small part of me wants to burn this room down, but I think Ukatis has seen enough fire and smoke."

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

Makko actually smiled as she made the snide remark and her saber came to life with a snap-hiss. She wasn't a wife of an arranged marriage. She was a jedi knight.

He took her hand. The smile was gone. He was thinking as he looked up at her.

"You always put things better than me," he observed.

A small wave of adoration washed down their bond as he thought it through. She was putting her stock in their future. They had spoken many times of looking forward and not backwards. In the end, Horace had been a small and selfish person. The pain he had caused would still last a lifetime.

"It sounds like quite a spiteful idea now," Makko said. He ran his thumb over the back of her hand.

"I'll still make you get another tattoo one day," he added playfully. The only other she wore had been the price to drag him up from the depths of Denon. After everything she had been through and had still been going through, that had taken strength.

"Ukatis has seen a lot. But perhaps if the new King can go without your guiding hand we could take a little time for us?"

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Makko's adoration always felt so pure. Cora accepted it with warmth.

Horace had given her scars. The pain would never be erased, and it had taken her years to come to terms with that particular reality. She would still feel it, and at times it would flare, but it could no longer consume her as it once had.

"Hm," came the small noise from behind closed lips. A brief expression of wry amusement at the concept of him convincing her to get inked.

Cora hesitated. The idea of some time away – a few days, even – was alluring. A feeling that was reflected both down their bond and in the subtle creases of her expression. Guilt soon followed to wash that consideration and water it down.

"I'd hate to leave him so soon. He's barely settled and there's so much to do and-"

Another pause, and this time she looked a little more abashed. In reality, it had been several months since the invasion. With the Alliance's help, the course for rebuilding had been set. Perhaps she just wanted to feel useful. "He has...been mentioning that to me," she muttered. "Says I'll be no good to Ukatis if I work myself into an early grave."

Cora squeezed Makko's hand. Her smile grew a little wider, but now it held a bashful tinge.

"Alright, I yield. A few days in the countryside. I don't think anyone could begrudge us for the honeymoon we never had."

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

He grinned as she started to form reasons to not spend some time away. He prepared for her to suggest they revisit the idea in a few weeks. Makko couldn't have held that against her. There had been a rebellion and everything was held in a delicate balance. As much as he valued their relationship, he had grown more pragmatic with time.

To his surprise, the new King of Ukatis came to his aid. Makko canted his head and tugged Cora just a half step closer. He hadn't even thought of calling this time their honeymoon. In the middle of everything that constantly swept up their lives they hadn't been able to plan celebrating their private ceremony.

His tone became slightly more playful. There was a satisfaction in talking so freely in a place of dark, controlling memories.

"I tell you what, bring a data pad in case you urgently need to help with anything. You'll need to make it up to me though. Just for emergencies though. No sneaking on for checkups!"

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

A week later…

Branches creaked softly as she climbed. Leaves rustled on a gentle breeze.

Deep in the countryside, it was as if the war had never happened. The air was crisp and clear, not heavy with smoke and ash and despair. They'd traded rubble for greenery, if only for a few days. That was all she would allow. Cora hadn't realized how much their dismal surroundings had affected them until she’d crawled her way up the apple tree.

She quite liked the way that ivy had crept up the stone walls of the cottage. It hadn't been used for several years, and as they cleared away the dust, Cora found her guilt ebbing just slightly.

From up here, the little home looked cozy in the rustic sort of way she'd come to expect from Ukatis. There were no structures, no other people in any direction for miles. Just rolling hills and forests.

Barefoot and clad in a white cotton dress, she balanced her knee on the thickest branch. Outstretched fingers grazed the curve of the reddest apple she'd ever seen.

It hadn't occurred to her to use the Force - or perhaps it had. A small, precise flick could twist the fruit from its stem. It would feel like cheating, she decided.

Cora strained, stretching her arm until, with one quick movement, she grabbed the apple. The motion knocked her off kilter, sending her into a wobble, before she fell from the tree.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

Makko was probably the first person to admit surprise in finding joy in a book. With his back to the tree his concentration had drifted off to worlds he created with his imagination whilst his implants were unhooked from the net.

The snap of the apple being tugged from the tree drew him from his quiet reverie. He stretched out with the Force.

Makko was quick. His senses stretched out towards Cora and into the deep places of the Force that warned of impending danger in an instant. He was on his feet.

There was no real danger. Even if she didn't call upon the Force to guide her fall she would land in the grass. Makko still reached out towards her. Her fall slowed as if she rode a cushion of air.

Makko took three small steps to stand in her path. He released her from the Force and she fell the last few inches into outstretched arms.

"Worth it?" he asked. He looked more relaxed, as if a couple of years had been wound off the clock. He grinned and nodded at the apple she cradled.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora landed in his arms with bubbling laughter. One hand crawled over Makko's shoulder to rest at the back of his neck, and the other rubbed the apple on the skirt of her dress.

There was a faint snap as she bit into it, the sign of a crisp fruit. Cora murmured softly from behind a mouthful.

Father had forbidden her from such childlike whims when she'd turned twelve. Proper young noblewomen were not to wear sundresses or run barefoot, nor were they to climb trees.

Neither Cora nor Makko had experienced a typical childhood. Perhaps, this was a way of reclaiming those lost years - discovering who they were as they peeled back the layers of propriety and responsibility.

"Mhm," she murmured, wiping the juice from her lips with the back of her hand. When Cora offered the apple to Makko, her expression left no room for doubt; she radiated joy, from the way her smile touched every feature of her face, to the way her eyes glittered with caught sunlight.

It had been over a decade since she'd last felt this free.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

Makko looked down at the apple with feigned suspicion. He might have been reading books but now she expected excitement at the prospect of fruit.

He played along, dipping his head and flashing his teeth.

"Hmmph," he agreed.

Where he came from, vitamins came as an adaptive and fruit came in tubes. A fresh apple was a lot of flavour for him.

They had been a lot more playful when they first met. Even if he had driven her slightly mad. Makko gave a slight dip and adjusted his grip, holding her firmly. He adored the way the sun dress could float on the breeze or grip her form as she walked. He chewed the crisp bite of apple.

"And where to now my queen?" he asked. His blue eyes had always been quite unique against his black hair and tanned skin. They sparked back at her in mirth.

"Is there another tree to carry you to?" he laughed. He started to walk her nowhere in particular.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora turned the apple in her grip, just enough to offer Makko another unbitten portion. When he leaned in again, she pulled the fruit away, and pressed her lips to his own.

Together, they savored the taste of the apple for a few long moments.

"Told you it was worth it," she murmured.

Large trees sheltered the grove, but the sunlight filtering through the canopy of leaves dappled the tall grasses like little sparkling gems. Everything was bright and vibrant, but in a way that was consistent and easy. It wasn't overwhelming. It wasn't too much, even if it felt like something out of a story book.

Ukatis held certain contradictions. It was bloody and violent, but also charming in its unrefined nature. Some spots were downright picturesque.

"Mmm…" Cora let her free hand comb into, then down over the loose dark waves at the crown of Makko's head. After a few moments spent admiring him, she turned her attention towards the forest.

"There," she said. With her chin, she gestures towards a ring of wildflowers. "If you would be so kind."

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

The apple drew back and he made a little noise of surprise as she lifted her face to his. He had often thought about everything else in the world melting away when they shared private moments.

This time he didn't. He thought of the soft wind in the trees and the air, fresher than any he had known. He thought about spending more time with Cora in places they chose. The galaxy wouldn't unwind without them for just a few days.

They didn't need to hide. They needed to live. There would always be a next crisis. They were Jedi Knights. They could still be fools in love.

"There," she said. With her chin, she gestures towards a ring of wildflowers. "If you would be so kind."

"But of course ma'am," he said, trying to imitate the court accent. He had to deal with nobles directly and hold his own. He breezed past the jokes and ignored the curiosity about his situation with Cora.

He took gentle strides and was clearly struggling to both watch his step and gaze at Cora.

Makko set her down in the grass and joined her. He propped himself up on one elbow and set his free hand at the hem of her dress.

"No matter what, we should never feel like we miss us," he said. "Even if it's just a dinner out, but trips too."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Coruscant didn't have grass. If it did, it existed in neat, manicured little patches at city parks and in private gardens. No single blade was to rise higher than the others.

Cora didn't realize how much she'd missed the feel of wild grass beneath her feet until now. Reclined in the field, she traced the delicate curves of a patch of bluebells with her eyes.

Time moved slower here. There was no crisis that demanded her immediate attention, and she could simply be. They could simply be.

"I don't think we'll have much time to do things like this," she murmured. "Not with Ukatis the way it is. Not with the galaxy the way it is, and with us being Jedi. That doesn't mean that we can't spend time together.”

Her voice died away when she felt that her point had been made. Vacations were rare for the Jedi - or at least they should be.

"How has the nobility been treating you?"

This time, her gaze drifted to watch his expression. The Ukatian aristocracy could be particularly irritating.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

Makko came to rest his head upon her lap, looking out at the views. He listened to the sound of her breathing and the gentle breeze in the long grass.

He slowly twisted about so that he could look up at Cora. He was wearing something more suited to Ukatis: a loose linen tunic in light grey. It was string tied towards the neck, but he had left it loose. It left his tattoos on show. He had been covering them up to deal woth Ukatis nobility recently.

"We just need to make sure we both make time for us. Even if it's a stolen evening."

They couldn't just be sacrificed to the war. He knew the risks, but he still held a hope that they could see the other side. Perhaps a house like this, but closer to the city. He could be a house husband, he mused to himself. They could have a family.

He tried not to let that thought run away. He had to be decisive, but also realistic.

"It's a mix," Makko admitted. "Utterly ignored by some. Some try and dig some information out of me about you. Or us. One of them is fairly disdainful but that's because he is very taken with you...oh what is his name..."

Makko knew exactly what his name was. He was tall, handsome and charming to anyone worth his time. He shouldn't have felt any jealousy, but he did.

"Alisdeir Bexleyheath. That's it. Did you used to stay here when you were younger?" Makko asked. He found her hand and brought it to his lips.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora's agreement came in a slow, lazy murmur.

"I suppose we've been stealing time for one another since we were teenagers."

Her lips lifted in a faint, faraway smile. Those memories had a rosy tint to them when viewed through such distance. They'd been volatile kids in love, both unwilling to admit their feelings and unsure how to handle them when things came to a head.

"Ah," Cora's sigh had some weight to it. "Him."

Her fingers had threaded themselves into dark curls, slowly circling against Makko's scalp.

"He was always a bit…much. He'd try to extend one dance into three or four. Fabian, the saint that he is, often saved me."

Fabian Albinac, the soft spoken and gentle hearted king of Ukatis, had been her childhood friend. It was not much of a coincidence that, in the wake of the Sith's devastating assault that left King Cholmondeley dead, she'd helped boost the young noble into his position.

Cora had explained to Makko the sort of man that Fabian was. There had been talks of a potential engagement when they were younger, but he'd ever remained a good friend. Not the sort who fancied the company of women in that regard.

"Sometimes," she said. It had taken her a few moments to answer his second question.

"Not all of us, though. The cottage isn't being enough, so we stopped coming here when Lysander was a toddler."

A thoughtful pause had her head tilting back, up towards the sky. The clouds that passed were a pristine white. The sky that hung over the capital was still a dingy grey, choked in smoke.

"I…wonder if he remembers any of it."

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

He could not help but think back to sneaking away from that academy. What a terrible influence he had been upon her, he thought to himself.

"Mmm him," Makko echoed. There was a slight glimmer of mischief in the corner of his eye, inspired by past daring events.

His expression turned more neutral and one hand stopped it's slow glide across her leg as she answered his second question.

He had told her of his meeting with Lysander. That had been unexpected.

"You could ask him," Makko said. There was difficulty with security. He was now an acolyte of a wartime enemy. The sith could use that against Cora. They had already used her own father against her.

"He was a bit upset about the secret wedding. I'm sure some other people will be too. But... I just know that was for us. We needed that and I won't regret it."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora drew in a sharp breath. She…could ask him.

Her revelation over Lysander's path had been brutal. What had been even more brutal, was the nagging feeling that lingered in the back of her mind, insisting that she'd driven him to this. That her lack of contact had stung so badly that it had been the final straw in something that had been building in her brother.

Something that she had failed to recognize, at any rate. Or maybe she had recognized his darker inclinations and brushed off the signs.

She couldn't hide from what Lysander had become. Not as she watched in horror as he fell from the great tree during the kaggath.

"It's…hard for me to talk to him. Harder with the distance. I was always used to him just being there, physically. I think I'm just…"

Afraid. She was afraid of hearing how much she'd hurt Lysander, knowing that the silence would hurt him even more.

One hand continued the idle circles against his scalp, but slower. She reached for his hand, and squeezed.

"I don't know how to approach him, Makko. What drove him to Korriban, do you think?"

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

"I don't know," Makko admitted. He squeezed her hand back and tilted his head into her touch.

"He seemed a little on edge around dissapointing them, but I didn't get the sense that he felt really in danger. As a trainee... Maybe he doesn't see that danger and attention that terrified you when there."

"He doesn't feel like he fits in with the nobility here, but that doesn't lead someone to the sith. Someone must have drawn him there."

Makko could feel her underlying concern that Lysander had been driven away. He knew Cora too well and their bond was open.

"It's difficult to arrange a meeting, but not impossible. I think maybe any kind of message would do. Best not to say too much incase the Sith intercept comms. I reckon if you wait long enough it'll be even harder, because it will feel like you waited too long. He'll be going through a lot."

Makko knew the dangers of leaving things unsaid, or in waiting until the last minute to admit his feelings.

"I love you, you know," he said quietly. Because if he had waited too long to say it, he could make certain she knew now.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"Did he look well? Like he's eating alright?"

It hurt to hear that, after a single meeting, Makko had a more fruitful conversation with Lysander than she'd had in a year. It wasn't quite jealously - just another wave of sweeping failures.

"I suppose you've always been…more direct than I am."

Cora frowned.

"Thank you," she sighed. "And you're right. I tried to write to him so many times, but I could never find the correct words. I don't think I'll have them now, but…I'll try."

Which words did you use when your brother had decided to join the Sith?

Maybe it didn't matter what she said, as long as she said something.

Makko's own words came easily. Cora tilted her head, chin moving closer to her chest, as she peered down at him.

"And I you. Always," she murmured. A smile ghosted along her lips, but at least it was genuine. Her mind was being pulled in too many directions, so she anchored herself in that one, simple truth.

Makko Vyres