Private Candleflames in the Dark

[William Thule]

Did they give me a room?

William smiled softly. Gently.

"Andromeda..." he began, his eyes searching hers. "I do not think I do understand."

He looked around the room. Spacious compared to the cabin on his ship. Small compared to the rooms of the manor. "This is just where you keep your things. You would sleep in the master bedroom."

His smile slipped slowly away, replaced by the intensity in his dark gaze.

"With me."

A slight furrow creased his brow.

"There would need to be precautions. We do not know how the Order here would react, or any of the staff for that matter. It is not something we should... advertise. Not until we know what I should do about the barony here."

A muscle in his jaw ticced. This would be so different from their time aboard his ship, where there had been no one else to judge them. No one to tell them they were wrong.

"Assuming you want to sneak around like this is some torrid affair."

An out. If she wished it.

He swallowed, because it was after all some kind of torrid affair.

Andromeda Demir

 

[Andromeda Demir]

​

Andromeda felt her stomach do that stupid, thrilling, extraordinary swooping thing it did in response to quite ordinary sentences spoken by William Thule. To hear him state plainly what he wanted and expected -- while she dithered and fretted about wanting too much, asking too much, taking up too much space -- gave her a few moments of that exhilarating, bulletproof feeling she associated with him. It warmed her from within, an internal furnace at the core of her being that now glowed. Her face went pink.

"Yes," Andromeda said simply.

Because on that instant, it was simple. She wanted him, and was comforted to know that it was what he wanted too.

The rest of it washed over her like a bracing wave. Torrid little affair. There was a playfulness -- something almost thrilling -- behind the words but something harder too. "I don't love the idea of being some kind of... dirty little secret," she mused. "I'm sure you understand that for me it's not just -- " Her voice broke off abruptly and she looked down, suddenly feeling foolish, like a child. She pressed on: "But I'd be mortified for people to think of me as some kind of kept woman. So I think, until you know what to make of this inheritance business, not to mention the Order and all the rest, it makes sense to be... cautious."

She let the word settle between them.

The Order was another thing. They hadn't formally joined and it wasn't clear what the expectations would be for them. If they forbad this kind of entanglement, was it simply a matter of not joining? She studied William for a few moments, her dark eyes searching. He had been a Jedi longer than she; his identity as a member of a Jedi Order might have intense value to him. Was it fair to expect him to do something about her if the order forbade it? Andromeda tried to shut the door on it. There was no sense in catastrophizing about something uncertain of they could do nothing about it.

"I know enough about this world of yours to know that I don't know nearly enough," Andromeda murmured, settling in closer to allow a patina of intimacy to grow on her words. "It seems to be a place waiting for people to make fools of themselves because they don't know the system, or they allow themselves to want above their station or hope for more than they should." Finally she turned her face up to him, her eyes lingered on his collar, then his mouth, before cautiously meeting his eyes. When she spoke again her voice was quiet and studiously light

"You won't let me make a fool of myself, will you?"

William Thule
​

 

[William Thule]

Willam cupped her chin with his hand, keeping her head tilted as he stared down into the depths of her eyes. So full of trepidation that she might not belong on this world, or in this room, or with him.

Frightened of making herself a fool.

"Never."

His voice was firm and clipped by his Core accent.

He would not let her become consumed or used by the bog maze of whatever politics took place upon this world, though if they realized what she was to him then whoever opposed House Thule would seek to use her with honeyed words hiding poison. William kept his eyes locked with hers. His thumb brushed along the line of her jaw.

"We should never be afraid to hope, Andromeda," the barest hint of a smile touched at the corner of his mouth, "Hope is why we live."

Hope and her presence kept him alive after the fall of the Alliance. Without her, where would he be now?

Lost.

Andromeda Demir

 

[Andromeda Demir]

​

The little something in Andromeda's chest swelled at his words, and despite the new environment, the new world, the new paradigms they would be facing, she felt something in her unclench, the little spark of joy and hope she had been nurturing for longer than she wanted to admit kindling a little more. She followed the momentum of his tipping her chin up and strained up, onto her toes, and pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips before retreating back to firm ground, or as firm as the lush carpets of Thule Manor would allow.

"You ought to have been a poet," she murmured fondly before she released him.

She was glad he was not a poet. She somehow doubted he would carry the same mystique that he had as a Jedi Master.

She half-turned from him, glancing back to her little knapsack, so tidy on its luggage rack. It tried to speak to her about impermanence and unbelonging. Andromeda ignored it. "Is there something you need from me?" she asked. "Something I can do to help you make sense of what this place is like? You know, I think there's a town or something, over there?" Andy beckoned him toward the window and she planted a knee on the window seat and leaned closer to the window. It was still foggy, or misty, out there, but she definitely could see some structures out there.

"I could go and -- I don't know. Ask around. What conditions are like on the ground here?" She turned back to him, settling onto the window seat properly now, leaning back a little so she could see him properly. "I don't know if that would help -- having some foreigner poking her nose into things -- but I'm open to suggestions. Or is this more of a 'wait and see' situation?"

William Thule
​

 

[William Thule]

He let out a breathy chuckle, partly due to the effects of her kiss as much as the compliment she paid him. A poet. Maybe he aspired to that once, but between the demands of the noble class and the Jedi Order, when did he have time to dream with his head in the clouds?

William followed her body language, the way her attention slipped back to her belongings. So few. But that was why the Jedi Order emphasized divesting attachments and possessions. It bred jealousy and possessiveness, no matter how much or how little one had. William supposed he was the worst offender of this category.

The Jedi Master followed her to the window seat and sat down, looking out into the fog. Hardly able to see, much as he could not discern the path ahead for himself.

"You could, if you felt that would help," he replied, though in truth he did not necessarily think it would matter unless she engaged with the appropriate level of bureaucrats. Going out and talking to the average citizen was a respectable attempt to garner their thoughts, but they were not the power brokers here. Ah... but he thought too little of Andromeda. Why did he struggle to see past her class in this regard? She was a capable Jedi, even when out of her depths.

"I think the decision may have been made for me already," William sighed, "if we say no, then some other noble will be put into the position. Can I trust them to do a better job than I could, or is that arrogance speaking?"

He grit his teeth, jaw ticcing.

Andromeda Demir

 

[Andromeda Demir]

​

Andromeda surprised herself by her ability to dodge feeling dismissed when he answered her suggestion. Or not letting herself build a home there, at least. He knew houses and worlds like this better than she did. It made sense that he would have a better idea of what might be useful. Still, she did not put the thought completely out of her mind. Maybe it was only her own curiosity pressing at her.

Maybe she wanted to know a little more about William's dead cousin than what the glossy polish of his wooden desk felt like, or how watchful his servants were. She was going to be sleeping in his house, in what had once been his bed, for a little while at least. Not knowing a thing about him was strange to her in those circumstances. But she put that to the side for the moment.

"Two things can be true," Andromeda said dryly, in answer to his question.

She thought she knew him well enough to judge that it was not the house, or the title, or even the money that would have enticed him. The truth was that Andromeda could not be impartial about William Thule. His confidence and assurance were among the things that had drawn her to him in the first place, and perhaps arrogance lived somewhere near those things. Close enough to be mistaken for them, at least.

"But knowing you as I do," she said quietly, reaching over to lay a warm hand over his and give it a gentle squeeze, "they could do a lot worse than you. A lot worse."

They stayed like that for a moment before she turned back to the window, this time taking in the manicured gardens. More green filled her vision than she had ever seen in her Irvulix V.

"It is a beautiful place," Andromeda observed absently. "It's hard to believe all of this could be yours if you just say yes." Her mouth curved faintly. "Though I suppose it depends on what you're actually agreeing to. You may have to fight a dragon or something. Isn't that how the stories go?"

She turned back to him, her dark eyes warm again.

"If there's anyone I would trust to do this for the right reasons, it would be you. I hope you know that."

William Thule​

 

[William Thule]

William smiled softly, her confidence in him mortared his determination. Shored up his doubts.

“Thank you, Andromeda.”

Reaching for her, he tucked a stray wisp of her dark hair back behind her ear. Just being able to touch her in the safety of this solitude was its own form of reassurance.

“I think the dragons here probably use speeches and motions for injuction,” he sighed, knowing the bureaucratic headaches that awaited him if he accepted.

“It is beautiful though…” William swallowed as he looked out the window, thoughts not on the estate at all as his mind wandered. It could be yours.

“Andromeda. Would,” he frowned and looked back to her, “would you still be mine. If I said yes. Are you mine?”

Possessions are dangerous things.

Andromeda Demir

 

[Andromeda Demir]

​

When Andromeda opened her mouth to answer, she found that a painful lump in her throat stifled her, and any words were prevented, replaced by a disbelieving huff that might have been a laugh if she had given it more of a chance.

She felt relief wash over her like a wave, and after that, embarrassment at being relieved.

"Silly question," she stammered. It came too quickly to be dignified, she recognized that immediately, and it made her feel stupid and childish. The question had gone through her cleanly like a hot knife. Are you mine? Not a promise, not an offer, but it was enough. More than enough. More than she had allowed herself to acknowledge even to herself what she wanted.

Simply that. Only to be William's.

In his company. In his confidence. In his bed. In the picture when he considered decisions.

"Yes," she whispered. Andromeda's voice was small and soft and colored with something almost like a sniffle. "Title or not, Druckenwell or not. I thought you knew."

Andromeda was unaccustomed to owning things, so her mind did not immediately go to the possessive nature of the question. She didn't hear 'you belong to me' but rather 'you belong where I am.' It was a place, an understanding, a belonging. It was knowing where she would lay her head every night.

It was, she thought, that being his meant that in some way he would be here as well. It was enough to undo her. She looked away to brush the single tear from her cheek before William noticed (or so she thought). "I think I may have been yours for longer than I realized," Andromeda whispered around her still lumpy throat.

William Thule​

 

[William Thule]

Relief rippled from her and flooded through William. In the midst of all the chaos of their lives, he may have taken her for granted - the idea of losing her unthinkable. And yet, it was still a possibility.

"I'm glad," he said, voice hoarse and thick with emotions that he never quite let himself feel. Still, they seeped through the cracks in his polished marble demeanor. She saw straight through him, of course, but what did it matter.

Now he knew for certain, no matter what he might have intuited from their time aboard his ship.

"Hmm," he replied, pulling her to him so that he could hold her as they sat together in the window seat, "The Order would very much not approve of that answer."

He leaned to whisper against her ear as he held her, "But I am glad."

His arms tightened around her, "I think, knowing this, it made my decision easier. I was worried you would not approve if I accepted. Do you want to be there when I tell them in the morning, or do you have exploring to do?"

William suspected her curious mind ached to wander this new place.

Andromeda Demir

 

[Andromeda Demir]

​

Andromeda should still have been embarrassed, and she was -- a little -- but his voice had gone hoarse, and his arm had tightened around her, and the shame of wanting too much had nowhere to take root within her when he sounded as relieved as she felt.

The little paper-thin slice between Andromeda's eyebrows went into a deep ravine the way it always did when her brows furrowed. But, conversely, perhaps paradoxically, she also smiled as she allowed him to pull her against him. The tension that had been holding her upright went soft by degrees until she was quite contentedly tucked against him on the window seat. Her arm went low around his middle. "No," she murmured. "I don't suppose the old Order would approve."

If this bothered her, that wasn't apparent in her response.

In truth, it did. Despite herself, despite the trust she had in him and the joy she took from what had blossomed between them, she couldn't force herself to forget the admonitions from the Masters in the Coruscant temple. Not that love was forbidden, but that attachments made matters complicated. Fear of loss was like any other fear: corrosive in parts, paralyzing in others, a pathway to the dark side.

She shut her eyes and allowed her head to rest against his shoulder for a moment.

"Why do you think I would disapprove?" Andromeda asked him, her voice curious rather than judgmental. "You were a Baron when I met you, and when I asked you to train me. And... for all the other things," she added, a subtle rosiness touching her bronze-toned cheeks. She wondered idly whether it was her background -- she was, after all, more or less a peasant. But it was unlikely that she would burn his manor down, chanting, in a circle, naked and painted in woad. Perhaps he thought she was worried she would be unable to find a place next to a real live Lord -- with an estate and an establishment and people depending on him that were not out of reach because of Sith occupation. There was something to that; it wouldn't come naturally to her like it would to someone born into those rooms.

"I am -- educable -- you know," Andromeda said, her voice tinted with amusement now. "I can learn. Where to stand. When to sit. What fork to use when."

She let it drop for the moment and her free hand went to the one he had around her. Andromeda tugged his arm closer around her, laced her fingers with his and drew his hand close so that she could place a brief, chaste kiss against his knuckles. "The exploring can wait," she answered simply. "I want to be with you when you tell him -- unless you think I would make it... harder, I guess, in some way."

William Thule​

 

[Mikhail Shorn]

oops

 

[William Thule]

"No," he replied evenly, "It would not make it more difficult at all."

William breathed in slowly, then exhaled, arms tightening around her as he did so.

"I do not want to make you uncomfortable with the noble classes. They can be... Well. Awful."

He looked out the window.

"That and there is a difference between telling you I am a baron and having to deal with all it entails. Lack of privacy for one. Have you seen the number of staff at this manor alone? Never a solitary moment."

The Jedi Master closed his eyes, thinking back to when he grew up in Cinnagar. He focused on the warmth of her against him and the peace of the Force surrounding them all like a constant, flowing river of serenity.

"But maybe it will not be so bad. I'm sure we could find a moment for you to show me how educable you are."

A small smile touched his lips with an accompanying chuckle.

Andromeda Demir

 

[Andromeda Demir]

​

Andromeda drew her knees up, but rather than hugging them to her chest, she allowed her legs to drape over William's lap, braced up on the window seat on the other side of him. She regarded him in profile, for the first time imagining him sitting in judgment of real people as she imagined a Baron would have to as part of that role. Choosing what happened to whom, what resources went where. In some instances, making choices that could make the difference between a house getting running water or not, power or not, or worse. No. She could not see William letting people starve, letting them die to fill his coffers.

But he may have to work with those who might think nothing of doing that. Shake their hands. Dine with them. And even if they were just the ordinary nobility -- the ones who looked down their nose at working people rather than sought to crush them for pleasure and profit -- they would have thoughts. About William. About Andromeda, if they thought for even one moment that she mattered.

"They don't know me. I don't belong to them. I'm not especially interested in what a bunch of fancy people think about me. Just one particular fancy person." Perhaps if she said it enough it might be true, she mused as she remembered the way that flawless blonde Senator's cold blue eyes had looked at her as if she could see everything about her: the roughhewn clothes under her Jedi cloak, the threadbare parts and the patches in Andy's own crooked stitching, but even deeper, into that childish part in her heart that imagined there might be some happy future for her next to William and would find it adorable in the same way a semi-illiterate child's letter was adorable.

"Besides," Andromeda added, her tone light enough that it might have been a throw-away line rather than a sentiment she cherished. "I have you to look after me." She said it simply, as if stating that the sun would rise in the east and set in the west. It went without saying that she would be looking after him, too, whether he felt he needed it or not.

Andromeda studied him again momentarily as he quipped at her. She tried to imagine him in one of the ancient paintings that she had seen in the entrance. The stern, cold, imperious gazes that seemed to follow her as she had been shown to her room. She saw none of the cruelty and avarice in that lovely nose, those dark inscrutable eyes, the mouth that he employed with such devastating effect -- even to tease her about being educable. "Well... I suppose I ought to know a little more than nothing. Enough so that I don't embarrass you, at least," she said. The sentiment landed somewhere under her ribs. Outwardly it was a joke. Inwardly, the miner's daughter knew exactly how a miner's daughter would seem to these people, Jedi Knight or not. She was determined to defy their expectations.

"Is this the part where I wear very tall shoes and parade back and forth with a book balanced on my head while you try to distract me?" Andromeda asked, straightening in an exaggerated fashion, elongating her neck, making her chin parallel to the floor. She caught sight of herself in the mirror over the dressing table and had to admit that for a scrappy miner girl, she wasn't bad to look at; good bone structure. That could help. Her voice, when she spoke again, adopted a polished, clipped, Core-world nobility often exaggerated in holofilms: "'The frrrreighters of Fondor fly flawlessly through the fog.' See, I am practically civilized already." She paused and settled her arm across his shoulders. "But before we go to the schoolroom -- how does the whole staff thing work? Do they live here? Would they -- see things? Hear things? All day?"

A beat as color touched her cheekbones, and she lowered her voice to a scandalized whisper.

"All night?"

William Thule​

 

[William Thule]

The laughter from her quip slowed, bleeding to stillness at her last words.

“Oh I’ve told them all to leave for now. An impromptu holiday. So… at the moment…. No one would hear a thing.”

William’s heart thudded faster for a few beats before he smoothed out his racing pulse with the Force, breathing controlled and even.

The idea of trying to teach her proper diction was ludicrous. And she’d done just fine on her own. She was not an illiterate peasant, but she was still a miner from a planet a long way away from anywhere. He worried about her getting sucked under by the conniving bureaucrats of the planet - not that he had met any yet but he was sure they existed.

Of course, the way she shifted with her legs draped over him like that and her arm across his shoulders made most other ideas come to a skidding halt. He cleared his throat, frowning in consternation at the way she caused him to lose focus - a feat no other could claim.

His dark eyes augured into hers.

“Why? Were you worried that they might overhear something untoward?”

Andromeda Demir

 

[Andromeda Demir]

​

Dark eyes went wide and her jaw dropped just a fraction.

"I was asking for -- " Andromeda said, slightly defensive. For what? Well, honest reasons, of course. And it was true. Wasn't it reasonable to want to know how the house operated? Where she could go without disturbing anyone? How to get around without triggering some sort of alarm or concern? But William had answered not as a man with an eye toward household management, but a man who had dismissed the household and knew what that meant.

Her cheeks were suddenly warmer. " -- for -- practical reasons," she stammered.

Andromeda became increasingly aware that her legs were draped over his, that her arm still lined his shoulder, and that his eyes were on hers, dark with intent and calm -- so damnably, unfairly cool -- for someone who had turned the palatial manor into a private provocation.

"Untoward?" she echoed him, as if considering the word on scholarly grounds. She wasn't sure whether to be playfully indignant or to simply tackle him to the carpet then and there. "I haven't heard any complaints before...." The half-smile Andromeda gave William was enigmatic. "Untoward indeed."

She stood up and shucked her cloak; she didn't need it with how warm it was getting. She crossed to the wardrobe and hung the cloak there, then looked at him from halfway behind the wardrobe door. "I want to be a good houseguest. And that means being quiet when it's appropriate to be quiet. But since you sent everyone away, I suppose that question has answered itself." She shut the door and went back toward him.

"And because I wanted to get the lay of the land. To know where I can go and where I shouldn't and where I'll be sleeping." She licked her lips and canted her head to one side; a tendril of dark hair fell across her forehead. "But since the staff are all gone, someone else will have to show me how to get to your room, so I'll know how to get there when it's dark." Andromeda looked at him, eyebrows lifting subtly.

William Thule​

 

[William Thule]

"Of course," William said, as if it were only natural she would ask, "Having you barge into the wrong room would not do."

He stood, stretched, and started down the hallway. His lips pursed, "You should meet the chief of staff. I think he would self-combust if he encountered you on an evening stroll."

William's mouth twitched at the thought. That would be quite the sight. He imagined the Chadra-Fan's ears standing at full alert in panic. Ah, but he shouldn't laugh at the poor fellow. Just doing his job after all. William contemplated relieving all of the staff permanently, but that seemed very unfair to them. Where would they go for work? These things were the complications that Jedi never truly thought through when lunging headfirst into noble affairs. Unfortunately, William understood both worlds too well.

Placing a hand on the small of her back as they walked, William guided her in the direction of his quarters. The hallways themselves were low lit from evenly placed sconces, but the light - though still artificial - was warmer than his ship's. The floor was some sort of polished obsidian or onyx, while the trimming was all in bronzium. Long rugs woven in rich reds lay on the floor, softening their footsteps. A banner at the end of the hall displayed the starburst symbol of the Thule family crest.

"Please excuse the opulence," he muttered, "And remember I didn't choose the furnishings."

Up a flight of stairs and across the hallway, massive double doors of Kashyyyk's sacred wroshyr wood hung ajar already, no need to grip the finely wrought bronzium handles to push them open. William led her inside.

The room was enormous and the ceiling so vaulted that it seemed as if he could fit the entirety of his yacht inside the room. Although that was, of course, ridiculous. Gigantic windows would have overlooked the estate, but they were drawn shut with thick blackout curtains. There was also an armoire in the corner.

On the opposite wall was an antique fireplace. Charming, really. Still requiring wood logs. Someone had left it burning. Near the fireplace sat a holograph projector table and an immense desk - again fashioned from wroshyr wood. He was sensing a theme. A book case was in the corner, piled high with treatises on military campaigns and economics.

But the true icon of the room was the four-poster bed. Naturally. William thought it obscenely large, unsure even what to call it as he had no size comparison. The sheets were crimson, with a charcoal colored comforter and matching drapes hanging from the posters, which bore threads of gold as well.

William sighed. Ridiculous.

He moved to the bathroom and flipped on the light.

"Oh dear."

The prior baron spared no expense, it appeared, and had managed to cram a state of the art luxury spa, complete with a thermal circuit of spas. There was a huge bathtub, a walk-in shower, a... he narrowed his eyes... a cold plunge, a sauna, and probably more around the corner. All of it looked very polished in reflective black and gold.

Andromeda Demir

 

[Andromeda Demir]

​

William's hand at her back was both thrilling and grounding in one moment. His touch didn't feel possessive in a theatrical sense. But neither was it just a guiding hand. It was warming and affectionate, a subtle reminder that whatever the galaxy thought, or the Order, or the nobles, she belonged there at his side. She resisted -- barely -- the impulse to lean against him again.

The house, meanwhile, was improbable; that was the best way she could describe it.

Dark, rich, polished stone and bronzium floors, and carpets that looked expensive enough to fund a Service Corps mission.

"I can manage that," Andromeda said. "If you agree to grant me the same grace when -- if -- we ever get out to Irvulix." She ignored the painful sensation of a fist closing around her heart. Instead, she tried to picture William there. She almost couldn't make him fit, not without a shirt that was more patch than original, dirty boots, carrying crates or fiddling with a filter, trying to squeeze a third extra year of cleanish water for Far Ridge. She almost laughed at the idea of him dancing the circle, hair brushing the slag beads hung from the rafters of the village hall. Pretending to like the mushroom slop that constituted feast food in her town.

She was thus smiling stupidly when they arrived at the warehouse-sized room where he would lay his head. And Andromeda, too.

The enormous bed, with its posters and canopy and drapes, was like something out of a fairy tale. The rest of the place was equally impressive. Andromeda tried to not to be over-awed by the whole setup, but to the miner's daughter for whom the cafeteria at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant had once represented the height of luxury and opulence, that was a tall order. She knew she should have resented the luxury -- or at the very least, not started stroking the bed's coverlet like it was the softest puppy she'd ever touched.

William disappeared and she reluctantly left the bed and followed him into the cavernous bathroom.

Her dark eyes drank it all in.

"Oh dear," she echoed him.

She wandered toward the peculiar wood-paneled thing and peeked inside the glass door. "What is this place?" she whispered before moving on to peer over the edge of the plunge pool as if looking into a dark abyss. "How many baths do rich people take in one day?" Andromeda asked him over her shoulder.

"I suppose this will have to be another part of my education." Andromeda looked over her shoulder at him. "If you're still willing to teach me."

William Thule​