Private bruised flower petals

[Ariana du Couteau]

Ariana du Couteau, Jedi Padawan
Location: Lota Space Station, Medical Wing
Outfit

Ariana walked through the hallway of the station with slight apprehension in each step. The gravity was normal, but she couldn’t help noticing the heaviness. It always came whenever she thought about her home, a balancing act on a tightrope, where a fall meant utter tragedy. The fact that she was in the medical wing of the station didn’t help matters, but at this point in her life, Ariana half-expected the galaxy to throw curveballs.

When Ariana had initially asked about Talsin’s whereabouts after the Council meeting on Atrisia, she had been given only scant details. What was clear was that he had been shipped off-world to recuperate at a nearby private station. At the time, Ariana had looked both shocked and concerned though the shock had mostly worn off, the concern had lingered throughout her trip here.

As she approached the place where Talsin was resting and healing, Ariana practiced her breathing exercises. Her shoulders relaxed, and her mind quieted from its troubled thoughts of worst-case scenarios. Instead, she found the strength to hold a small smile. Her lips quivered slightly from the effort, but after a moment she appeared composed. She lacked her usual confidence, her swagger and bold attitude absent, but she settled for the smile and hopeful eyes.

“Hello, Sir Lota? I am Ariana. Ariana du Couteau,” she called as she knocked on the door. It slid open. “I apologize if you still need more rest. I can come back later,” she added quickly before bowing.

It was a rather cruel thing to impose a meeting on someone still recuperating. Of course, it would also be rude to assume they were too weak. If she had practiced her manners more diligently and reread the proper decorum, Ariana might have felt more confident in this sort of meeting. As it was, she simply hoped Talsin was of a forgiving sort or at least not too particular about proper noble mannerisms.

I really should stop assuming so many things, especially when its about people.
​

|| Talsin Lota ||​

 

[Talsin Lota]

Ariana du Couteau

By the time that Ariana had arrived Talsin was luckily already out of the hospital bed. It would have been awkward to have a conversation with the fellow Tetan while he was still bedridden.

Instead when Ariana walked in she'd find Talsin in a wheelchair. He turned it around, awkwardly, but managed to rest in front of her. Looking up at the young woman and nodding with a warm enough grimace.

"Lady Du Couteau, pleasure meeting you." Tal said softly and already shaking his head. "Nonsense. Us Tetans should stick together, at least the ones who aren't in bed with the Galactic Empire, yes?" Teasing a little and sighing there at the same time. Because it was deeply infuriating to him how many of their fellow nobles seemed eager to work with the Empire.

"I worked with your father in the past, I was on a mission to Teta when it was under the first occupation, and he helped me over the comms." Then reaching out, offering his hand to put hers into.

"My deepest condolences. Teta lost a great man. If you ever need to talk to anyone... my doors are open. I know a thing or two about losing... family."

He grimaced again before quickly covering it up. It was no big secret, he was a Duke and had been since the first invasion of Coruscant by the Dark Empire a while back. Both his parents murdered while he was on a mission elsewhere. It had send him tail-spinning for a while. But by the looks of it Lady du Couteau was handling things with more grace than him.

"Was there something you wished to discuss with me specifically?"

 

[Ariana du Couteau]

Ariana du Couteau, Jedi Padawan
Location: Lota Space Station, Medical Wing
Outfit

Ariana stepped forward and graciously accepted the extended hand with both of hers, giving it a light squeeze. She stepped back, found a nearby seat, and settled in so they could be at eye level, no need for either of them to crane their necks. The added bonus, of course, was that she wouldn’t have to worry about weakening knees or nervous shakes while seated.

The small things.

“Ah, I believe you met my brother during the second occupation. Our father died in the first defense against the Brotherhood of the Maw,” Ariana said, correcting him with a gentle smile. Memories after a coma could be hazy. “But Damian does resemble our father, Seto and it doesn’t help that we both enjoy dressing the same,” she added with a light laugh.

“Thank you for your condolences, all the same. We children born into noble houses often inherit titles we never truly want, because it means the head of our family is gone.” Her voice softened, and her gaze drifted to the floor.

Abdications and retirements happened on occasion, but most titles only changed hands through death. For her and her brother, it had been a bitter inheritance, with little honor in being chosen to carry on the du Couteau name. It was a cruel rite of passage at the end of a patriarch’s life and crueler still when that life was cut short in conflict.

“I had hoped to get your thoughts on our noble kin, but I think I can already guess your opinion.” She looked back up with a weary smile and a shrug. “So perhaps we should focus on finding a way to clear out those who still cling to this Krath dream.”

Teta’s politics were . . . complicated. Ariana knew from her brother that many noble heads of house had endured the same turbulent history shared by the two people in this room. It didn’t excuse anything, but it did explain how so many staunchly anti-Solipsis patriarchs had died, replaced either by the younger generation or, worse, by opportunists. Memories might last a long time, but the dead had none; only the living could choose to carry them forward.

“And you can call me Ariana. I’m not exactly a stickler for decorum.”
​

|| Talsin Lota ||​