Private At The Edge of Radiance

[Everest Vale]

Outfit: Robes
Equipment: Lightsaber, Bracelet, Earrings
Companion: Isari
Tag: Quinn Varanin

​

The city was humming. Not the kind of noise Eve had never quite grown used to on Coruscant — not the roar of repulsors or flashing lights or endless vertical layers of motion — but something sweeter, older. Traditional music rang through the crowds. Children laughed as they weaved between vendors. Streamers were strung across white stone streets, and handwoven flags flapped proudly in the breeze.

It was a festival. A real one. The kind Mariana used to tell stories about when Eve was little, curled up at her feet during long winters. She never thought she’d be here to see one again. Not like this. Not with her mother beside her.

The capital city was larger than Eve remembered. Cleaner, too. Its sun-kissed buildings curved in the old Echani style: soft and elegant and strong, made to stand the test of time. Everything smelled of cinnamon and sweet spice, of fried breads and crushed petals. Musicians played on every corner. Girls with flower crowns in their hair passed cups of chilled juice to strangers, laughing and twirling barefoot on white stone. And reunited family members sparred openly on the streets with joy, reconnecting with their loved ones in the way that mattered most to the Echani. All unfolded beneath the glistening gaze of the royal palace that stood proud and magnificent, looming above as a monument of Echani pride and power.

Eve grinned, her hand brushing against her mother’s as they walked.

"I thought you said you didn’t like crowds," she teased gently. Mariana gave her a look.

"I don’t. But I couldn't miss this, I've waited all my life to see the royals. And to be able to experience it with you? What a blessing."

Eve beamed, and for a moment, she didn’t feel like a Jedi at all. She felt like a daughter. Like someone’s little girl, standing in the middle of her people’s capital city, wrapped in festival joy. He wrapped her arm around her mother's as they walked. Trotting just ahead, Isari watched the unfolding festival with wide-eyed wonder, a mix of excitement and quiet awe. Her silvery fur and luminous eyes drew curious glances from those who recognised the old Miralune legends — whispers of fox spirits and omens, now walking among them.

They stopped at a food stall tucked into a narrow archway. The old Echani man behind it served up spiced flatbreads folded with honeyed figs and soft white cheese. Eve took two and passed one to her mother. The scent alone made her stomach growl. Mariana gave a nostalgic smile as they munched.

"Last time I had one of these, your father still had a beard." Eve blinked.

"He had a beard?"

"Briefly. Just before you were born. It looked awful."

They laughed. It felt easy.

Then — a soft shift in the wind. The music faded, replaced by distant drums and the faint sound of horns. Excitement rippled through the crowd.

"They’re coming," someone whispered.

Eve turned toward the procession route, eyes scanning the path ahead. She slipped her hand gently into her mother’s again, guiding her through the crowd with careful steps until they found a place near the front. Isari followed close behind. Children sat on the stone edge of a flower-lined terrace; older women leaned from balconies above, tossing pale petals into the street.

The royal procession was drawing close.

Eve could feel the weight of it, not through the Force, but in the air, in the hush that fell over the crowd like a held breath. Flags stirred. The drums grew louder. She looked up, lips parted slightly, as if she were still that farm girl from the silver fields.

"Come on," she whispered to her mother, eye alight. "You don’t want to miss this."

And for a moment, she forgot everything else.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Everest Vale //:
//: Attire //:

Home.

The festival was one she wasn't allowed to miss. It meant one brief moment back into Alliance space to feel the warm glow of the Light. Quinn could feel her insides churn when moments she passed someone too bathed within the lies of the Jedi. Still, her mother, the Queen Mother, ensured she would be protected throughout the festivities and that the Alliance knew she was here on Eshan business, not Sith. It only meant they couldn't attack her, but it didn't stop the stares.

She remained behind the current royal family, Noelle and whatever his name was, along with her niece and nephews. They were the perfect vision of royalty for the Echani people—unlike the third daughter. Quinn waved at those who called her name; she was happy that she wasn't as forgotten as she felt at times. A few social headlines ranked her more beautiful than her sister, but that was only because the stress of running a planet and dealing with the Alliance had taken its toll.

Their mother was a beauty, and she had retained much of it, but Quinn knew time had its price. Unlike the others, Quinn was special; something dark resided in her that allowed her to take advantage of the Force's gifts. Still, she wished she was normal - like Noelle.

The parade line ended, and they were escorted off. Quinn was left alone after a time. A few of the guards lingered around her but kept a distance. Unlike Noelle, Quinn wasn't Queen and didn't have the heirs to protect. She said her goodbyes and made false promises to try and come home more.

As much as she wished she could keep her promises, she knew as long as the Jedi littered the streets of Eshan - home would never be.

Jutrand was home with Kirie and Kaila.

Looking back at the guards, Quinn sighed. She would have rather been able to bring her own. Still, Kaila and Kirie were considered Sith, and 312 was, unfortunately, 'busy,' according to her command. Another scathing note was sent to this 'Game Master' or whatever they wished to be called.

But she was alone for the most part. At least the crowd didn't bother her too much. A few asked for photos, mostly children who enjoyed the story of the exiled Princess. It was doctored and sold as a tale of strength, but Quinn often found herself lonely.

There weren't many other Echani; most were in the Jedi and looked down upon her even then. Unknown to the public, her story wasn't a fairytale.

After the small crowd dispersed, Quinn began walking down the festival streets. Her eyes wandered from each little stall selling different handcrafted bits and bobs. She looked through some of the handmade jewelry, mostly looking for gifts to bring home. Not having Kirie or Kaila by her side in a moment of celebration for her culture stung a bit, but she did her best to make do.

She purchased a few things and then wandered towards one of the food stands, where she stood in line. A few of the Echani in front of her offered to cut the line, but she waved them off, not wanting any special attention or much attention drawn to her anyway.

More compliments and encouraging words to 'help' her through her troublesome time in the Empire. She sighed softly and looked over her shoulder till she spotted a small family. The girl was with her mother, and jealousy squeezed at her heart. It faded quickly as she noticed the girl had an eye patch.

For a brief moment, their eyes met, and the Echani Princess smiled—a subtle and inviting curve of her lips almost promising more. She held the girl's gaze, allowing the moment to stretch, each passing heartbeat deepening the unspoken invitation. Her eyes sparkled with a playful warmth, almost daring the girl to come closer and discover precisely what the Princess had in mind.

 

[Everest Vale]

Outfit: Robes
Equipment: Lightsaber, Bracelet, Earrings, Engagement Ring
Companion: Isari
Tag: Quinn Varanin

Mariana’s fingers were warm against Eve’s wrist as they stood side by side, the crowd parted just enough to give them a clear view of the royal procession. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Not even when the banners of royalty crested the horizon or the sunlight shimmered off finely wrought armour and flowing silks. The weight of history made the air feel denser, charged, like it was pressing gently down on her shoulders.

"...It’s beautiful," Mariana whispered at last, her voice breathless with emotion. "I never thought I’d see them with my own eyes. Not this close. Not like this."

Eve didn’t answer with words. She just gave her mother’s hand a small, quiet squeeze. She understood. Mariana smiled at her with glistening eyes, then glanced behind them toward the square.

"May should be here any minute," she said, dabbing quickly at the corner of her eye. "We said we’d catch up at the music stage. But I’m glad we got to see this part together."

Eve nodded softly, still halfway watching as some of the lesser nobles now passed. But then something shifted.

Her eye was drawn—caught.

Not by the resplendent figure of the Queen Mother. Not by the perfectly poised heirs. But by the third royal daughter. The one who stood apart.

Their gazes met, and the noise of the crowd melted away. There was no fanfare to the moment. No bright flash of revelation. Just a slow, blooming awareness in Eve’s chest, sudden and strange, like she’d been noticed by something too bright to look at for long. The princess' smile wasn’t wide. It didn’t need to be. There was something in the tilt of her head, the curve of her lips — a knowingness. A curiosity. An unspoken 'come closer'.

"Oh! May!" her mother exclaimed, waving across the lane. A tall woman was pushing toward them, laughing. Mariana turned to her, daughter, catching her gaze with a gentle look. "I’m going to spend some time with May, like we planned. I’ll meet you later by the courtyards, alright?" Eve nodded, pulling her into a tight hug.

"I’ll see you soon," she said softly, then smiled and gave May a warm hug too. "Keep her out of trouble, May." May chuckled, Mariana scoffed dramatically.

As the two women disappeared into the crowd, Eve turned back.

The princess was still looking at her.

Her heart thudded once, hard.

She exhaled and began to walk. Slowly. Carefully. The sound of distant music thudded in her chest like a second pulse as she wove through dancers and festival-goers. Every step forward felt strangely immense. At her side, Isari trotted just as quietly.

When she reached her, just within arm’s length of the princess, she paused. Her throat felt dry. Eve bowed low, with grace and clarity, her voice even but quiet as she lifted her head.

"Princess," she said. "It’s an honour to meet you."

As she absolutely meant it.