Private Ardor Lives: The Shore [Part II]

[Cybelle Sal-Soren]

TAG: Brandyn Sal-Soren | John Locke | Blaire Sal-Soren | Gianna Aegis
ITEMS: Petal Blossom (Jade Bangle) | Green Lightsaber (Generic, Hidden)

Cybelle wasn't sure what to think.

From what she understood, pregnancy was supposed to change a person, or at least that was what every midwife she had ever spoken to asserted. Gianna had helped deliver half of the younglings in the small villages outside of Theed and had often assured her that her growing waistline was nothing to be concerned about. But…There were days when her body no longer felt like her own. When her emotions came and went like the shifting tide down by the Shore. She was tired more often than not, and her dreams were filled with transient shadows that whispered away come mornings light…

But returned with a vengeance the next night.

And the night after that.

And the night after that.

Wasn't this what she ought to expect? Didn't the holo-books say that she would desire strange foods and that her dreams would be even weirder? Weren't these normal symptoms of wear and tear from growing a tiny person inside her? Exhaustion? Fatigue? Moodiness? Fitful sleep? Weren't all these things some level of…Standard?

Brandyn…Didn't think so.

Cybelle craved the normalcy that the child she carried represented. The family…She couldn't remember. Her husband had been watching her too closely in the past few months, his eyes following her in moments when she thought everything was fine. His hand often lingered somewhere on her person…But that was nothing new. He was always there. This just felt, different. As if he were afraid, she might break apart if he looked away. He wasn't alone in his worries. As time passed, they spread to her in turn…Made her distant.

Quiet...Unless she was speaking to herself.

Sometimes, when she stared too long at nothing, it felt like something was staring back.

That was the reason she finally acquiesced. Left their quaint little cottage on the edge of the property and went to the main humble houses for Sprite Gate Shore to visit with her adoptive parents and perhaps some friends that might be able to lend insight. For Brandyn's sake…She would sit across the dinner table and from Gianna Aegis and John Locke . She would be patient. She would say the things he wanted her to say…The things she wanted to hide.

The familiar fresh air met her, and a moment later, warm arms wrapped around her. Cybelle blinked. Surprised. Where had the time gone? When had they arrived? She couldn't remember leaving the cottage, only that she agreed to. For all the weight she had gained during her pregnancy, parts of her seemed exceedingly thin. The soft hollows of her cheeks were visible, and her wrists were unbearably skinny. She could feel the soft smile of her Master and found herself burying her body in welcoming arms. Gia was so warm. As if the sun itself had taken shape and form of a mortal woman. Gianna smelled of something clean…Lemons and flowers.

"Hi."

The singular word Cybelle uttered also made her chest ache…But she didn't know why. Topaz eyes slipped to John Locke when Gianna slowly released her to greet Brandyn similarly. Her love and compassion knew no bounds, especially when it came to their little hodgepodge family. The sight of John Locke brought a different emotion to her. Memories of watching him work on gadgets and gizmos when Gianna was away on a mission. He was always a calming presence. Other than Gianna but…Grounding all the same. Absently, she wondered if he ever felt the same quiet strangeness that she did now. The sense of becoming something new and unfamiliar.

Without consent.

"Thank you for having us…", Cybelle spoke softly, topaz eyes slipping toward Brandyn. Feeling…Guilty, somehow. She wanted nothing more than to slip back into the comfort of his arms and place the entirety of this unpleasantness behind them…But she couldn't ignore his concerns. Even if she wanted to. The auburn-haired Hapani would do anything for him. "Dinner smells lovely…Is it still okay that we have a few others stop by?"

Anything.

She would do anything for @Brandyn Sal-Soren…Anything for her baby.

"There are...Some things we need to talk about."

Hopefully, before she lost her mind.

 

[Gianna Aegis]

Sprite Gate Shore

Brandyn Sal-Soren | John Locke | Blaire Sal-Soren | Cybelle Sal-Soren​

Her arms lingered around Cybelle for a moment longer than what might have been considered necessary. Practiced hands found the back of the one life in all the galaxy that she treasured as if she were her own child and tried to ease away the tension. The stress that seemed to be eating away at her. Cybelle put up a good front, for the most part, but there were cracks in the armor she put on every day. Shadows in her eyes that…Gianna didn't recall. She was careful not to squeeze too tightly.

Hazel eyes found Brandyn while she held Cybelle. Searching. Seeing.

The Jedi Master of the Shore was far too perceptive not to notice something was amiss with the typically happy couple. It wasn't because the Force whispered little things to her through the wind or any other such nonsense that the locals prattled on about…But simply because she had eyes. Something was eating away at Cybelle, and Brandyn didn't seem to be far behind. She wanted to hug them both at the same time and shelter them from…Everything.

There had been too much suffering in their lives.

She pressed a kiss to Cybelle's forehead before releasing the young woman to pull Brandyn into a hug whether he wanted one or not. There was no awkwardness to it. Just…The kindness that seemed to radiate from her core. There was no hidden agenda, no secret, save for the fact that she felt blessed for being able to spend some time with them. They lived on the property but…

Gianna thought it best to let them live their lives.

Hopefully, so they didn't feel smothered and decide to rent a flat in Theed instead.

"You don't need to thank me…You're home. You're always welcome here.", she spoke without hesitation, unwinding from Brandyn, only to offer a reassuring smile. "Both of you."

The ginger-haired woman, remarkably youthful for her age, laughed softly when Cybelle mentioned bringing others by the Shore. They could bring one or a hundred…Everyone was welcome here.

"You know I don't mind, little bird…"

But…Gianna didn't comment on dinner. The truth was—She had barely started. There had been endless love in her words, but there was also a healthy dose of concern. The changes she saw in Cybelle were more than just psychological. They were physical. She did not miss the weariness that clung to her despite youth, despite the joy of being a mother, and this was not…Entirely expected. During her last exam, she had cautioned the young woman to take her vitamins and rest, but…

This seemed like she had done the opposite. Was she sleeping at all?

The wise woman did not press yet. Especially…Not on the fact that dinner was only just in the oven. The fact that Cybelle could smell anything at all was an oddity, especially because the meat was still raw. It wasn't the first time she'd heard of women with child having enhanced senses, but combined with everything else, it felt…Out of place. Worrisome.

She returned to Cybelle's side and took her hand, fingers brushing her slim wrist with tender care. "You know I cook enough to feed an army. The more, the merrier. We'll set as many places as we need, and John, I'm sure, will be delighted to show off his latest work if they're curious."

Gia squeezed Cybelle's hand gently.

"We'll talk, yes. About whatever you need…Neither of you are alone. But until then, let's get you inside and off your feet. You both look like you could do with a pre-dinner snack."

Her levity was meant to lighten the moment while she began to lead them into the main house. She was nothing but sunshine and light, projecting an innocence that seemed out of place for a woman who had seen so much war and madness. Nothing broke her spirit.

"Now…Both of you—Tell me all about the cottage. Are you doing well? Do you have everything you need?"

No. Nothing could bend the inherent goodness of the red-haired woman.

Not even when she was worried for those she loved.

"Do not mistake peace for weakness. To choose compassion, again and again, in a galaxy that thrives on conflict—that is the truest strength of all."​

 

[John Locke]

Wearing: Would you believe, not a suit?​

_________________________________________________

Naboo | The Spritegate Shore​

Tagging: Cybelle Sal-Soren | Brandyn Sal-Soren | Gianna Aegis
_________________________________________________

Hi

It was a small word, fragile and unsure, carrying with it a note of uncertainty, or hollowness that seemed so wrong, so out of place. John didn't even have to close his eyes to be able to cast his mind back to a time when that voice would be filled with life and laughter, when the young woman standing before him would be unable to contain her excitement and energy.

The Spritegate Shore had always had an almost ethereal nature to it, a sense of being outside of time, of worry and heartache. It was a place where you came to rest and recover, to get away from the problems of the galaxy, of that constant stress and worry that was so hard to escape. It had always been that way, ever since he'd first met Gianna and arrived at the estate.

Cybelle had brought something else, something different to the peace of the haven. And undertone of energy and mischief, the sound of laughter and pattering of feet as she almost danced from room to room, encounter to encounter, carrying with her a sense of the spring, of renewed life and happiness. He could remember when the brunette was young, perched on a table in his workshop staring intently at whatever droid or speeder he was working on, features drawn into a serious look as she peppered him with questions.

It was the sense of energy, curiosity and joy that had endeared her to everyone she had met.

It was the sense of energy that was missing now.

Unlike almost everyone in his family, born and found, John had no tangible connection to the force, the energy field that suffused the galaxy and allowed those around him to preform such remarkable feats, to sense changes in the world around them. However, he didn't need the force, didn't need any kind of extra senses or understanding of the world to know that something wasn't right, that his adopted daughter was suffering somehow. It was in her face, on the tension on her body as he replaced Gianna and wrapped his arms around her in a hug.

"You're saing us from leftovers, and we can always drag in a few more chairs if we need. Besides, I do have this speeder bike in the garage."

Arms tightened for just a moment before he took a step back, nodding his head at Brandon.

"And perhaps something to drink? I make a mean lemonade. We're here, for both of you, whatever you need."

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

He held her hand, his grip firm but not crushingly so. A tightness had lingered in Brandyn's chest for days now. He had excused it as stress related to the missions to the Core Worlds. He had ignored that the feeling had begun prior to the fall of Coruscant.

He kept pace with Cybelle, but a quarter step behind her. His eyes lingered on her profile, memorising each contour of her face. He didn't need to remember her face so purposefully. She woke beside him every day that he was on Naboo. And yet...

The light from the opening door distracted Brandyn from his train of thought. Just in time. He smiled, as well as he could muster, when he saw Gianna.

Cybelle pulled at his grip as she moved to embrace her adopted mother. Brandyn released his grip, but not without some hesitancy. In that moment, he stepped into Gianna's embrace and held her more closely than he ever had before. The subtle hint of desperation snuck through his tone. "Thank you for having us over," he said as he broke the hug, and pulled away. He made eye contact, the depth of his concern clearly evident in the downcast brow and dimmed light in his eyes.

He offered the requisite pleasantries in response to all the offers and requests. Nodding in greeting to John — he had always been kind but they were not yet super close — he accepted the snack, and he pulled Cybelle towards a comfortable spot behind the kitchen table where he could keep her close.

"The drink sounds lovely. Thank you, John," he said, "I have invited Blaire along....Briana...Bastila...I will tell them later. Once we know what we are working with."

Honestly, as much as he loved and needed his eldest and youngest sisters, they were also the sort of personalities that would dominate this sort of conversation, and try to dominate the solution. He did not like leaving them out of the loop. It had not gone well in the past when he did so. But this was his choice.

"The cottage is great. We love it there," he said, casting a weary glance at his wife, "thanks for the droids to help with the extra building, John..." He offered a brief nod of thanks.

"...sorry if the kids have gotten over here and messed with anything." Their small orphanage, they had started during the Mandalorian attacks, was slowly losing residents as children were being adopted into families around Naboo. Every child that left added to the hole where a laugh had once been. It felt symbolic.

The conversation hung for a long moment. Brandyn sighed, leaning on the table, and craning his neck to look at his wife. "Do you want to start?" He said. In some ways, he just wanted to see how she would paint this issue. Would she underplay the increasing seriousness of it? Or, like he suspected, would she be forthright as usual? He was unsure if that which was effecting her...wanted...her to speak about it.

| TAG: Gianna Aegis John Locke Cybelle Sal-Soren Blaire Sal-Soren |

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[Blaire Sal-Soren]

Blaire kept out of the way, lingering an arms length or more behind Brandyn and Cybelle as they made their greetings. Blaire was unfamiliar with Sprite Gate Shore and who lived here, other than Brandyn and Cebelle's place in the property. Even then, she had never actually been to Bran's home, despite the invitations.

She told herself and Bran that she just hadn't found the time to visit, too busy with this new venture or that obscure appointment, the kids were too much of a handful, Baryn had only just come home. She didn't know if Bran believed her myriad of excuses but he never argued.

The invitations had eventually ceased coming her way. That was some measure of relief though it left her feeling quite guilty. He wouldn't understand though, her true reasons for avoiding his home, his family, him. It was incredibly unfair, she knew.

Another secret to add to the list.

No, she had never visited Bran and Cy, not until the day before last.

When he arrived at her door, the sun was so freshly risen that dew still clung to the grass making it sparkle as though made of glass, the morning light glinting and refracting into a hundred new colors with each breath of wind.

Blaire half asleep and worried that some new tragedy had befallen her family, had hurried him inside. They'd sat in a silence that seemed to stretch forever. Her hands gripping tightly around a cup of caf, never moving an inch closer to her mouth, his sat untouched on a table next to him. Twice she thought he made to pick it up. The first was only a sneeze and the second merely Brandyn shifting in his seat.

Blaire for her part, sat with her caf and waited for him to speak, which he was a long time doing. Far longer than was normal for her big brother. Her brother who always, always had some lame joke or horrid new nickname to bestow upon his sisters, getting equal joy from their laughter or their scorn. This quiet, reserved, version of her brother was a stranger even compared to how he had been just a couple of weeks earlier at Aiden's knighting. There he had been something approaching the Brandyn she knew in her heart. The ease with which he allowed her to take his arm, the warmth and joy he showed to his friend, even the way he fidgeted and bothered with the collar of his Jedi robes, it was all so very Bran.

That morning however, as they sat across from one another, he was out of robes but clearly found no comfort. Perhaps it was the way he was sat but Blaire swore his clothes hung looser on him than she'd ever seen them do. Hard lines etched across his face, lines she never noticed before. His eyes had grown hard as well.

He has daddy's eyes.

Blaire remembered their father looking distressingly similar toward the end. She's tried then desperately to help him, to stand with him, show daddy he did not need to be in this alone. He only pushed her away, kept her from being there when…

"Whatever you need," she'd told him before he said a word.

The first night at Brandyn and Cybelle's home Blaire spent alone in the room she was given. She hadn't wanted to impose, really, it had very little to do with Blaire not being entirely sure Cy was comfortable with her being there.

Cybelle was in all ways, that Blaire could tell, perfect for Bran. As far back as she could remember, it had always been Bran and Cy. She could remember some of the terrible rows daddy and Bran had over his closeness with Cybelle, though back then she hadn't the first idea what the issue was. Time and Bran's eventual escape to the Jedi hadn't done much to thaw her father's frost for Cybelle and after what The New Way, in essence her father, had done to Cy, Blaire imagined he was not fondly thought of in their home. That did not mean they held anything against her per se. How deep Blaire's ties to her father and his New Way went was not an open secret, her family had no clue, really but that didn't make it easier to sit at table with them and share laughs–not like there was many of those going around–while knowing what Blaire was indirectly responsible for.

So she'd hid.

As she hid now just a step or two behind them.

She followed Bran and Cy, thanking John and Gianna for their hospitality and opening their home to her. She said the right words and composed herself as befit her name but she could not help but feel unnaturally awkward saying them. She was a stranger. A fifth wheel, intruding on a situation she didn't understand and imposing on people she did not know and did not know her.

"Whatever you need" that is what she told him and that is what she meant. She would be here for him, for them, for whatever they needed.

| Outfit: xxx | Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren Cybelle Sal-Soren Gianna Aegis John Locke | Equipment: xxx |​

 

[Cybelle Sal-Soren]

TAG: Brandyn Sal-Soren | John Locke | Blaire Sal-Soren | Gianna Aegis
ITEMS: Petal Blossom (Jade Bangle) | Green Lightsaber (Generic, Hidden)

Cybelle let herself be guided inside the home that had raised her from being an unwanted orphan to a functional member of the Jedi Order on Naboo. These walls and ceiling had kept her safe and warm.

What else could she do?

She ought to have felt reassured by the familiarity of her surroundings, by the soft, lingering scent of motor oil and the SAME aftershave from John Locke had worn since she’d still worn her hair in braided pigtails. The hugs that Gianna gave mysteriously seemed to have a healing quality, and Brandyn’s constant presence by her side was…The only thing she had ever wanted. Her head turned toward Blaire, and she cast her sister-in-law a lop-sided smile. It was awkwardly charming, showing her exhaustion, but still not forgetting to try and make sure she felt welcome. “Don’t be shy…No one will bite.”

There was a hollow space in her chest that no amount of comfort or security seemed capable of filling.

She smiled faintly again when her Master spoke of snacks and John mentioned lemonade, but the corner of her lips trembled by the end of it. “You’ll spoil us if you’re not careful.”, Cy tried to tease, though her voice came out a little thin, lacking the usual melodic lilt. The auburn-haired Hapani sank gratefully down into the seat that Brandyn pulled her toward, smoothing the fabric of pale blue robes down over the curve of her belly. As if the gesture might keep her steady.

Her gaze swept across the table, landing on Blaire Sal-Soren briefly, silently apologetic that this was the way they had to spend their time as a family. She felt like a burden. As if she were dragging everyone she loved into some unspeakable mess. She wanted to apologize to Blaire.

They should have gone on a picnic or visited the lake…

Her eyes darted away quickly, guilt prickling along the back of her neck. “I don’t want you guys to worry.”, she blurted out, almost defensively, her hands curling together in her lap. “I’m not sick. I’m not...”

Cybelle could feel her throat tighten as she glanced toward Brandyn this time, though she selfishly used the handsome lines of his face for strength. The fear that she had come back wrong from Exegol was starting to rear its ugly head again. The notion that she was a thing instead of a person was starting to invade her every waking moment. It was the reason she had so much trouble admitting something was amiss in the first place. “…I’m not broken.”

Broken.

The word was barely a whisper, spoken so softly, held so tightly to her heart that it felt like it might hurt her to say it. The pale wood of the dining room table began to blur under her unfocused stare. “I thought…I thought this was normal. I’ve read everything I can and I’ve been following every recommendation.”, the words just started coming out, spilling from her, even though she had intended to let them all settle in first. Her breathing hitched, and one of her hands moved to find Brandyn’s beneath the table. He would note a subtle tremble…Notice that she couldn’t quite get it to stop. “But…”

“Sometimes…”

She couldn’t get it out. Cybelle felt so foolish…

“Sometimes…I feel like I’m not alone even when I am alone. I've been losing time...It’s not the baby. It feels like…Something else.”, the young woman forced out a soft laugh, trying to hold on to her usual good-natured cheer, but it came out brittle and not even slightly convincing. “Ridiculous, isn’t it?”

“I sound like a child telling ghost stories at a campfire.”

Her smile flickered and faltered, her eyes starting to shine just a little too brightly. She wanted so desperately to leave it there, to let them dismiss her worries with warmth, with reason, and the safety that came with being part of a family unit. She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before her chin fell, and her long hair fell over her features like a curtain. Hiding her pain.

Beneath it all, beneath the denial, there was a quiet and terrifying truth.

She was afraid.

And if Brandyn, Gianna, John, and Blaire could all see it on her face…She wasn’t sure how long she could keep pretending otherwise. Jedi didn’t give in to fear… Fear led to anger. Anger led to hate…And hate?

Hate led to suffering.

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Brandyn watched her as she spoke. The coyness with which she approached the subject was at once endearing and maddening. And yet, all he could do was memorise her face. The gentle curve of the bridge of her nose. The way her eyelashes fluttered when she was trying to convince people of something she, herself, did not believe. The way her brow furrowed, giving a wrinkle that was slowly becoming permanent.

He loved that soft line on her forehead. In the secrecy of his own thoughts, he called it her care-badge. She frowned because she worried. And she worried because she cared.

Right now, she worried about being a burden. She worried about sounding like a child. All of it made his temples throb.

Beneath the table, he felt her grasping for his hand. And he responded as he always did — with presence, and determination. He squeezed her hand, enough to show he was present in the moment but not enough to hurt.

His eyes found Blaire's gaze. Her presence was a balm. She had been through so much, and remained so put-together. The older they all got, the more he had learned to respect Blaire's tenacity, and ability to rebound. It would not be hard for her to see in his eyes that he was not one hundred percent happy with the diluted explanation Cybelle gave.

"She has been sleep walking..."

His eyes flicked towards Cybelle to gauge her reaction. He had not come here to mince words, or save Gianna, John and Blaire from worry. He had come for guidance.

"...and talking while doing so. A conversation that I only hear one side of. Like someone is threatening her..."

He looked to John, hoping that he would understand his persistence about the matter.

"...she keeps muttering about someone wanting her to remember a place that is...beneath...they want her to go with them."

His hand came to his temple, pressing more than he ought. His attention fixed on Gianna.

"And when she snaps out of it, she cannot remember it, though that is starting to change too."

The unspoken fear almost dropped out of Brandyn's lips, instead he turned away, catching Blaire's gaze for moral support.

I am losing her...

| TAG: Cybelle Sal-Soren John Locke Blaire Sal-Soren |

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[Gianna Aegis]

Sprite Gate Shore

Brandyn Sal-Soren | John Locke | Blaire Sal-Soren | Cybelle Sal-Soren​

Gianna didn't flinch at the word broken.

Instead, she reached for Cybelle and placed a calming hand on her shoulder. The young Jedi Knight that she knew, who acted with bravery and suret,y was trembling like a leaf. Slowly, curling into her husband as if she might willingly disappear inside him. The voice of the flame-haired woman arrived with warmth that was akin to wrapping a blanket over cold shoulders. "Cybelle…"

"No one is saying that you are broken. You are carrying life…Which by itself is a miracle—But it can be hard, confusing, and strange. None of that makes you less whole."

The emotion that rose in the pair at her dinner table was startingly strong. It was complicated, thick, and rounded off with what radiated from Blaire Sal-Soren . With every breath, she could taste their guilt, their sense of impending loss, insecurity, and all manner of negativity that was no doubt turning their worst fears into active reality. Gianna didn't doubt the veracity of their fears—But she wouldn't stoke the fire unnecessarily. "You are all…Very much loved. You can say what needs to be said without fear of it leaving this room."

Hazel eyes flickered between the two, who were, for all intents, her children, finally reading the quiet desperation that lingered in them both. "Losing time, sleep walking, talking to the air…That's not ridiculous. It's something we can work with. We'll keep you safe, and with a little time, we can start untangling what's happening."

Gianna tilted her head slightly, lips quirking to the side in thought, already trying to form questions that might lead to a reason. "Do you remember anything at all from the instances Brandyn mentioned? Smells, sounds, words? Has the baby been moving normally? Any pains, fevers, changes in your senses? The smallest detail can help us find a pattern…", she trailed off gently, her questions practical, but coming from a woman that had helped half the women in Theed give birth.

There was no judgment.

"And you…", her eyes turned to Brandyn with a small, knowing smile. The way he held Cybelle was…Indicative of a worried, overprotective spouse, "Need to eat and breathe too. I can see how hard this has been for you both. We can talk while we get something warm in all of you, then I can run a few tests. Nothing invasive…But I think at least temporarily you should both consider moving to the main house."

It probably wasn't what they wanted to hear.

"I can be present during the day, and John can help us keep an eye on things at night."

Gianna stood up to fetch the children something to snack on while the roast cooked, plus, to get a datapad to start tracking Cybelle's symptoms. Her presence was calming…But the symptoms described?

Unusual. Very, unusual for a pregnancy…But not unheard of. Stress could do terrible things.

"Do not mistake peace for weakness. To choose compassion, again and again, in a galaxy that thrives on conflict—that is the truest strength of all."​

 

[Cybelle Sal-Soren]

TAG: Brandyn Sal-Soren | John Locke | Blaire Sal-Soren | Gianna Aegis
ITEMS: Petal Blossom (Jade Bangle) | Green Lightsaber (Generic, Hidden)

Cybelle let Gianna’s words sink into her skin like warm rain, slow and steady. For the first time since she’d sat down, she seemed to relax into the chair and hold onto Brandyn as if he were her family…Not a lifeline. She stopped fidgeting, and her fingers didn’t threaten to crack his knuckles while she held his hand. Instead, she focused on the warmth of it. His strength. She blinked hard while her heart ached with a forbidden sense of nostalgia.

When was the last time she’d simply loved him without fear of losing him?

Loved her child?

A thin tear slipped free, and she reached up to brush it away before it could reach her jaw.

“I don’t think I realized how badly I needed to hear that…”, she returned after a moment, her voice clearer than before, but still raw with stress and strain. “Everyone tells you about the miracle, about the glow, but no one talks about how lonely it feels inside.”

Strange. She felt lonely and strange…As if she didn’t recognize herself anymore. Not at all.

Cybelle listened to the questions and reached up habitually to brush mouse-brown hair back behind her ear. She knew that it was a series of inquiries meant to diagnose her, but something in her fought back against answering. She frowned, pressing that feeling down. “The baby moves normally. Stronger ever week. No fever, no pain. Just—”

“—I’m so tired.”

She had dreams that weren’t really dreams, but half-lucid moments, where she always woke up in the middle of a conversation with Bran that she didn’t remember having. “I smell salt water, sometimes.”

The Shore was on fresh water—That didn’t make sense.

“And something metallic, old, especially when I’m alone. There’s a hum, low, like a song I can’t catch the words to. It’s too far away.”, Cybelle paused and glanced at Brandyn, trying her best to be honest at this table. No matter how much she didn’t want to talk about it, there was something amiss that could drive Brandyn away from her or affect her child. Some kind of imbalance? Vitamin deficiency?

“Sometimes I can blame it on being groggy…But lately…It’s been worse. Happening more often.”

More, perhaps, than even Bran knew. Cybelle was seeing things that weren’t there because when she blinked, the world changed, and it was back to normal. She glanced between everyone, and her voice dipped again while her chin dropped. “I don’t want to leave the cottage…”

“It’s our home. But if you think it’ll be safe and help us understand…Okay. I just don’t want to drag anyone else into…Whatever this is.”

Obviously, Cy was frustrated. Her eyes were soft when she looked at Blaire and John, then back to Gianna, before her eyes dropped back to the woodgrain in the table. “I’m...scared…”

“But I don’t want to be.”

Finally...The truth of it all. Her fear was...Overwhelming.

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

He did not relinquish her hand.

"We'll move into the main house. Tonight," Brandyn said, the decision clean and final. He gave Gianna a grateful nod. "If there's a pattern, we'll find it."

He turned to John. "A couple of passive corridor mics, a door chime on a timer, and a low-light cam for the stairwell if you've got it. Discreet. I don't want her feeling watched...just...maybe guarded."

He turned to Blaire, softer. "Thank you for coming. I know you need to get back to the kids." A flicker of the old mischief eased the tension in his brow. "Be our on-call. If I signal twice, you ring me and Gia...yes?" He squeezed her shoulder once. They were family, uncomplicated. "Go home. Keep them close."

"At dawn, I have to meet the evacuation wardens in Theed, escort shuttles, coordinate with the watch. I won't be far." His thumb tucked a loose strand behind her ear, an old, unthinking tenderness. "If anything feels wrong before then, you call my name or press this once." He set a simple, round-cornered comm device on the table. "I'll hear it."

He bent, rested his brow to hers. The scent here was lemon and warm wood.

"You're not broken," he said again, quieter. "You're ours. Whatever this is, it does not get to have you alone."

They ate. They tried to laugh. They made lists. When the plates were cleared and the lamp turned low, Brandyn helped Cybelle ease back against the pillows in the guest room nearest the kitchen, where the warmth and the quiet were strongest.

Brandyn took the first watch from the chair by the threshold, boots unlaced, saber clipped within reach, eyes on the gentle rise and fall of the woman he loved. When the emergency channel vibrated against his wrist, he muted it and kept counting her breaths until they steadied into sleep.

"I'm here," he promised the room, and meant the vow for dawn as much as for the dark.

Cybelle Sal-Soren Blaire Sal-Soren John Locke

— Fin —
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