Private Heaven Is No Feeling

[Mykel Dawson]

A touching moment of healing and amends was tinged sour as that insufferable voice cut through his mind again, Mykel despising its praise. For my sanity, just be quiet.

Blessedly, silence returned.

With his head clear, he turned his full focus back to her. She seemed to catch onto his meaning of 'favorites' without further elucidation. This time around, he was grateful for how perceptive she was.

However, he couldn't help but indulge in the fantasy of what could have been. It was cruel really, only finding a light like hers now. If only he was older. If only they had crossed paths sooner. Maybe. At least in this moment he had her.

"Why thank you," he replied softly with a small smile, much preferring her praise over the old haunt's in his head. (He could have sworn he heard something akin to a prissy hmph though.) "I like to think I picked up a few things from Master Vexis." His old master was back on the Alliance frontier again in the Unknown Regions, the Consular lending his gifts for diplomacy to help stitch back together a fragile Federation on the brink. "I'll see how well I apply his lessons on Fondor."

He chuckled at her invitation for dinner, as he had been thinking about how to broach the topic of lodging. Even if he hailed his crew now, they wouldn't return to the region until the next cycle at the earliest, probably currently well on their way unloading supplies for the new Enclave.

"Dinner sounds lovely after dodging black holes all day....but something in your tone suggests your sisters may prove a greater challenge."

How many siblings did she have again?

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Dinner at the Ascania manor was held at a long dining table. With the Viscountess unwell and the Viscount deceased, both chairs at either of the table's heads were vacant.

Mykel was offered a spot next to Cora, who sat next to the empty chair that her father would've occupied. Next to their guest was Marilla, a shy teenager with golden hair and large green eyes. Beside her sat the youngest of the Ascania siblings, Emile and Argenta.

Across from Cora, dressed in a rather extravagant silk gown, was nineteen year old Fatine, who had inherited her mother's dark curls and hazel eyes. Fraternal twins Lukas and Anselma occupied the next pair of seats.

Three of the Ascania siblings - Dominick, Volkhardt, and Lysander - did not join them at the table. The former two were in the military, and the latter…

Cora did not want to delve into a description of where his path had taken him.

"So," Fatine prompted Mykel, bejeweled finger tapping against her fork. She had lovely features, sharper than Cora's, and had the impression of knowing how to use them. "Are you single?"

Cora set down her knife with a decisive clank and shot her sister a glare.

"Y-You can't just ask that!" Marilla managed to pipe up while simultaneously crumpling back into her seat, a healthy flush splashed across both pale cheeks.

Fatine, who now rested her elbows atop the table and laced her fingers together in front of her, rolled her eyes. She ensured that all could see.

"Oh, honestly. You two are such stuffy old maids!" She drawled. "Times are changing, dear sisters-" Fatine returned Cora's icy glare with a glance of her own, warm and bold with amusement. "A woman should be able to approach a man nowadays, don't you agree?"

"Not at the dinner table," Cora grumbled, dabbing quickly at her lips with a cloth napkin. "You're going to make Knight Dawson uncomfortable."

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Following a humorous briefing on all the idiosyncrasies of her sisters, with a special focus on the second eldest sister Fatine, they shifted to lighter topics. He took the opportunity a little more about his homelife, finding kinship with her also being the eldest sibling, with a pair of lovely but also very annoying sisters to boot. At least in that sense he could relate to her when it came to family matters.

While Cora could no longer stand, she had recovered enough with his aid to give him a small tour of the garden on her hoverchair. This time around, he allowed himself to fully enjoy the sights and smells of the lush foliage. Before they finally retired to the manor proper, he finished planting her saplings for her, leaving his mark on her personal plot.

There was still some time before dinner, so he was provided with a well furnished guest room to freshen up. However, now away from Cora, he spent a good while just staring blankly out the window as he sat on the edge of the bed, deflated.

He had tried to make something positive out of the revelation of secession, but his spin ended up doing nothing for the pain. It still felt like a double tap when compounded with the fresh schisms among the NJO.

The final scales had finally fallen off the eyes of the young knight as he saw his heroes and mentors for the flawed individuals that they were. Not bad people by any means, but also no one he should ever place on a pedestal again.

Trust in no one...trust only in the Force.

His father's words reverberated through his head as he began to accept them. With a long exhale, he brought up his legs up into a lotus position and began to meditate. Finally shedding away the idealizations of a sheltered youth, accepting the messiness of the world around him. When he acknowledged the storm, he could learn to navigate through it.

In time, he would levitate from the bed in newfound enlightenment.

Inadvertently, Cora had provided him with her final lesson.

---

As he was now off-duty, Mykel slipped out of his traveling gear for a more tasteful personal outfit from his pack after a quick shower, nothing too ostensions but classy enough by Core fashion standards. His silver pendant hung around his neck as his sole accent, the jewels shimmering softly with the glow of Ashla's light. Normally tousled hair was now slicked back with few loose strands tactfully left curling over his left eyebrow. A sweet cologne of cognac and warm apple notes now wafted from his skin.

Cora had told him to expect some sauciness at the table, but he didn't expect Fatine immediately charging out of the gate like a rancor. Her crassness already had sweet Marilla flustered and a more stern Cora set off in a way he hadn't seen before. Siblings certainly had a way getting under the skin like no other, growing up knowing every weakpoint.

Mykel himself looked unbothered, meeting her hazel eyes with his own steely hues, letting her hang on his silence just long enough to tease.

"Should I be?" He asked, expression still serene but tone playful to undercut her aggression. Are you worth it?

While Mykel was indeed a Jedi Knight, he was also a man from the Core who had attended years of university away from his enclave. As young Ukatian women were now just feeling their way through the infancy of dating culture, he was already well immersed in its most sophisticated expression. While no Casanova, even an Ukatian aristocrat as stunning and haughty as Fatine was light work.

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora's expression pulled into something that could only be described as silent incredulousness. Her gaze slipped back and forth between Fatine and Mykel as she observed…whatever this was.

For her part, Fatine blinked back her surprise before scoffing lightly. A pink flush painted her cheeks as the tines of her fork idly poked at a the crisp skin of a roasted herbed potato, but she didn't glance away, maintaining contact with those dreamy hazel eyes.

"Oh, so Jedi live that sort of lifestyle?" Dark eyebrows lifted as she shot her elder sister a devious smirk. "I thought you were all supposed to be a pious lot?"

Beside Mykel, young Marilla squeaked and quickly pressed her napkin to her lips. To his other side, Cora let out a sigh that carried a dull edge of frustration.

"Honestly, Fatine. This is hardly appropriate dinner conversation." There was a firmness to her tone, one that she'd used in the classrooms of Coruscant’s temple when faced with a particularly rowdy student. It was not unkind, but instructive.

"Ooh, breaking out the teacher voice." Fatine grinned, cheeky and satisfied. With one elbow on the table, she rested her chin in the palm of her hand and directed her attention back to their guest. "So what do you think, Knight Dawson? Surely a man from the Core finds a place like Ukatis too old-fashioned and in need of an upgrade.”

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Fatine wasn't the only Ascania taken off guard by his cheekiness. Until very recently, Cora had really only known him as her fawning junior, but there were different sides to him, like when his Corellian blood flared in the cockpit, craving the thrills of a daredevil.

He hadn't intended to rile her, only to take the bite out of Fatine's jabs with a return in kind. Still, he couldn't help but find it endearing, watching Cora's composure waver in this private familial space far removed from the strictures of their duties abroad.

<Trust me> He projected to Cora. <I'll keep it civil.>

Being of the same age as Fatine, he knew better than try to shut down a spirited teenage girl like her with blunt resistance. It was better to parry her with banter to redirect and disarm, the Consular applying the Water Crescent in verbal form.

"Oh, so Jedi live that sort of lifestyle?" Dark eyebrows lifted as she shot her elder sister a devious smirk. "I thought you were all supposed to be a pious lot?"

"Our vows as Jedi do require us to be ethical in all pursuits," he agreed, "but that doesn't bar us from courtship or love. I wouldn't be here if that was the case - both of my parents are Jedi." He chuckled before adding, "In fact, they became an item on Zeltros."

"Ooh, breaking out the teacher voice." Fatine grinned, cheeky and satisfied. With one elbow on the table, she rested her chin in the palm of her hand and directed her attention back to their guest. "So what do you think, Knight Dawson? Surely a man from the Core finds a place like Ukatis too old-fashioned and in need of an upgrade.”

"I find Ukatis quite charming, in fact," he told her in perfectly fluent, if accented, High Ukatish. "I enjoy the people, the arts, the hot chocolate I once enjoyed in the Capital."

He wagered that Fatine would be floored by a foreigner's use of the noble tongue out of nowhere, but the flourish was a trick, the teasing technopath psychically interfacing with a miniature protocol droid in his breast pocket to keep up the prank. Originally, He had brought it along to help him mind the finer customs of Ukatian aristocracy at the table, but now it served a far more entertaining purpose.

"Certainly there is some room for improvement, but that's the case with all worlds. That said, it can't be so bad if it's to produce such captivating individuals as those around me. Don't be so dismissive of your own culture. It's quite lovely."

"But is there anything else you look forward to as Ukatis continues to open up to the galaxy?" he continued in a reversion to Basic, now trying to shift topics to something more palatable for the whole table. "Perhaps studying abroad?"

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

<It's not you I'm worried about.> Cora imparted back.

The mention of Zeltros seemed to pique Fatine's interest. "The planet full of short skirts and pheromones?" Her lips curled in satisfaction as she felt her sister's eyes land on her in warning. "Well, good for them. They don't sound stuck-up like some Jedi I know."

The words that came out of Mykel's mouth did indeed earn him a stunned silence from all parties at the dinner table. Fatine's smug grin pulled into wide-eyed shock, having missed the first few sentences out of sheer surprise. At the end of the table, a few giggles could be heard rising from the youngest siblings.

“No way,” she gasped, elbows planted on the table as she leaned in closer. “You taught him High Ukatish? The governess would faint!”

"Well," Fatine cleared her throat by way of recovery, dabbing at her painted lips with a cloth napkin in a manner that could only be described as overly-elegant. "I would like to travel more off-world. And it just so happens that I am taking acting classes in the capital."

Acting, their father had insisted, was a profession rife with scandal. Certainly not appropriate for a young noblewoman.

Cora's brow scrunched as her lips pursed into a faint grimace, but she smoothed the unpleasant expression away rather quickly and lifted her glass of wine. She had her own issues with Fatine’s interests, more concerned with her sister’s safety than the sullying of a noble title.

"Marilla," she looked to the younger blonde with a smile. "You've been wanting to study off-world, haven't you?"

The shy girl next to Mykel seemed to stiffen, her stillness broken by the motion of her throat as she swallowed thickly.

"W-well, I…would like to study at university," she admitted carefully. Cheeks flushed, she looked down at her dinner plate instead of at their guest.

"She's excellent with mathematics," Cora supplied. "Women aren't yet allowed to study at the university level on Ukatis. Perhaps we can find a place for her at Theed."

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Mykel's prank had the desired result effect of throwing Fatine off her lurid interrogation session for cleaner topics, smirking as he watched her go speechless for a moment.

To her credit, she was quick to recover, seemingly as sharp as Cora albeit less...tactful.

He recalled how Cora had told him how he wouldn't have liked her as much if they had met earlier. Had she ever been so wild as Fatine? It was amusing to consider that her sister may offer a window in time.

"Well," Fatine cleared her throat by way of recovery, dabbing at her painted lips with a cloth napkin in a manner that could only be described as overly-elegant. "I would like to travel more off-world. And it just so happens that I am taking acting classes in the capital."

"Acting?" he repeated, offering an approving nod. "So you're an artist? I'm afraid I'm not quite familiar with the theater scene here. Are you focused on stage acting, or holo reels?"

From just their brief interaction, it didn't surprise him much that she had pursued such a path. With a such a big personality on display she certainly bore all the hallmarks of a diva for better or worse, and the looks to go with them. She also had knack for improvisation, which was a vital skill of acting that Mykel recognized having done his own undercover work.

"W-well, I…would like to study at university," she admitted carefully. Cheeks flushed, she looked down at her dinner plate instead of at their guest.

"She's excellent with mathematics," Cora supplied. "Women aren't yet allowed to study at the university level on Ukatis. Perhaps we can find a place for her at Theed."

He knew Cora hadn't meant it, but her mention of Theed felt like a jab as he was reminded of secession. While he had meditated on the matter to ease the pain, the only true remedy was time.

However, at least she seemed to confirm that the rest of her family knew of the transition, so he wouldn't have to dance around that information in conversation.

"University was an enlightening experience for me," he directed at Marilla. "In my case, I studied on Corellia away from my Enclave for a couple years before I became a Jedi Apprentice. It opened my mind to a lot of new perspectives which has proved immensely helpful to my work to this day. I hope you're afforded the same opportunities."

It had been a much needed grounding experience, putting the then sheltered Jedi in touch with the everyday concerns of normal people. Sometimes he felt many of his fellow Jedi had become too transient, and in doing so decoupled themselves from civil matters that were just as important to pursue as war with the Sith. That's one of the reasons he liked Cora, as she was similarly grounded by her upbringing and strong ties to her realm. Unfortunately, such admirable qualities had now birthed tension between them amid geopolitical divergence.

He turned to Cora, the Queen in all but name. "Are there any plans to amend these restrictions soon? Your cohorts generally don't seem too keen on change, but it will be necessary in their dealings with the outside world."

From what he knew of the High Republic, they would have much less tolerance for Ukatian patriarchal policies than the Galactic Alliance.

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Fatine beamed at the notion of being called an artist, seemingly pleased with the comparison.

"I act in Ukatian stage plays. Most of them are rather old-fashioned, but some of the playwrights are producing more modern stories." Elbows atop the table, the girl rested her head upon the bridge of her laced fingers. Cora gave the poor table manners little more than a tired glance before reaching for her glass of wine.

"Perhaps you'd be so kind as to grace one of my performances with your presence, Master Jedi?" Long, dark eyelashes fluttered towards their dinner guest.

For her part, Marilla remained quiet as Mykel spoke. The shy girl was actively paying attention, though, and his encouragement inspired a sparkle in green eyes.

Cora had taken a long sip of wine. Now, she gaze into the burgundy surface of the liquid, as if the answers to Mykel's question could be found there.

"I would like to," she answered. It was an unspoken admission that there were no concrete plans to amend the restrictions - at least, not yet.

"We've been focusing on enriching the farmland and ensuring that aid is distributed fairly. Cholmondeley left quite the mess behind." Cora shook her head. "I can convince a council of old men to implement extra-planetary agricultural methods far more easily than I can convince them to allow their daughters higher schooling."

Still, something uneasy lingered in her expression. Being treated like a second-class citizen had shaped her life and left her with scars. Why wasn't she putting more effort into shielding her fellow women from the same fate?

"The university here sucks, anyway," Fatine chimed in.

"Fatine," Cora warned, but her tone lacked any and all bite. It was punctuated with another sip of wine.

"What? It's true. Ukatis isn't exactly the galactic center of knowledge." The younger sister waved her hand absently. "Whoever wants to learn anything more than our own boring history would be better off literally anywhere else."

With a sigh, Cora tilted her head in a faint measure of acknowledgment. It wasn't clear whether or not she agreed with Fatine.

"I have brought up raising the marriageable age to 18. I've received…varying levels of support." She tilted her gaze to Mykel with a muted smile. "Things don't change easily on Ukatis. I just need to find the right approach."

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

"Perhaps you'd be so kind as to grace one of my performances with your presence, Master Jedi?" Long, dark eyelashes fluttered towards their dinner guest.

Fatine would have been utterly irresistible if he didn't already find himself so hopelessly ensnared.

"My time on Ukatis may be short, but if you do have a performance coming up soon, then it would be my pleasure to attend, my lady," he replied sincerely.

"We've been focusing on enriching the farmland and ensuring that aid is distributed fairly. Cholmondeley left quite the mess behind." Cora shook her head. "I can convince a council of old men to implement extra-planetary agricultural methods far more easily than I can convince them to allow their daughters higher schooling."

At this point, Mykel simply nodded along and remained mum on the news he had previously been so eager to deliver before she had revealed the abrupt secession. He was now conflicted to render aid on the Alliance dime when they were being left out to dry, dysfunctional as they were.

"I have brought up raising the marriageable age to 18. I've received…varying levels of support." She tilted her gaze to Mykel with a muted smile. "Things don't change easily on Ukatis. I just need to find the right approach."

Her cause for equality was noble, but rarely were such men moved by morality. In the patriarchal order of Ukatis, most women were ultimately regarded as property, and those old misers among her aristocratic cohorts would fight tooth and nail to keep it that way.

"Forgive me, but if I may offer my thoughts as a foreign observer," Mykel began, "A consensus on pursuing civil reforms is ideal, but your opposition will continue to drag their feet for as long as you allow them. At some point, you'll need to impose yourself upon them. You currently have the power and capital to do so."

"You need to take the debate out of the realm of the abstract where the opposition may continue to sew doubt on your plans. Your House alone presides over a territory comparable to a sizeable terrestrial country. Implement your reforms here first to set a precedent, and encourage your allies to do the same within their respective territories, getting around the need to approve a new national law through a voluntary interregional compact. I imagine King Fabian would have the ability enact similar measures as edicts within the Crownlands he directly administers. When your opposition sees your lands thrive and theirs wither as labor goes into flight for better opportunities, then they will be forced to adapt out of necessity.

"If their feet still remain lead, then they will simply sink into irrelevance and lose their power to stonewall you anyway."

There was more that he could say, but the main idea that he wanted to get across was that Cora possessed much more leverage than she seemed to believe. He wanted Cora to see herself as he did, even as she had left him reeling as of late.

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Impose yourself upon them.

It was an uncomfortable concept - a proper Ukatian Lady did not impose herself upon anyone, much less the political dealings of men - but Cora could acknowledge the necessity of dictating her will.

"I suppose that's worth exploring," she admitted. Lifting the wineglass to her lips afforded her a few long moments to let Mykel's proposition settle. Cora certainly wanted to do right by her fellow women, but it wouldn't be a straightforward battle. Nor would it be a short one.

"I can abide by starting small," she decided. "It'll be easier to facilitate certain changes over Ascania territory than it would be to try and force an entire planet to shift overnight. It's as you said - if we rise, then others will be more incentivized to rise along with us."

Or if they resist, to fall into obscurity.

Mykel had a mind for politics, moreso than many of the other consulars she'd worked with who tended to straddle a more stringent line when it came to interfering in a world's governing structure. Then again, Cora was far more embedded into Ukatis' ruling regime than a Jedi should be.

But if she could help raise her people out of poverty and injustice…

It was something she could muse about silently all night, but that wouldn't make for good dinner conversation.

"You've been a remarkable help with the enclave, Mykel," she acknowledged, tilting her glass in his direction. "I wonder if you'd be interested in helping expand our agricultural practices here into something more modern and high-throughput? If we're successful, then other territories might be less skittish about adopting coreward techniques in their farming."

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Mykel nodded with a smile, pleased to find Cora receptive to his proposal. "Sometimes, we just need to give our counterparts in governance a little nudge in the right direction. Maybe two, he he."

In this case, he was nudging her to remove the velvet glove and embrace the full power of her station to make the change she wanted. Not as a passive Jedi, but as the paramount of the most powerful house on Ukatis. As the Consular saw it, she was already more involved in Ukatis than she should be, so she might as well go all in. No more half measures.

Her next question caused his smile to wilt, already feeling guilty about withholding information, and now she was putting him on the spot.

Tell her nothing. She does not deserve Alliance aid.

Kyrios' gravely voice rang up in his mind again, but this time he did not recoil.

For all the aid the Alliance has already rendered, for the all the blood and treasure sacrificed in their civil war, Ukatis still turns its back on us.
For all the aid the Alliance has already rendered, for the all the blood and treasure sacrificed in their civil war, Ukatis still turns its back on us.

Now we see just how far charity brings us.
Now we see just how far charity brings us.

A flicker of unease had crossed his face a moment before, but now it was gone as his smile returned after a sip of sparking water from his glass.

"Thank you, and normally I would be delighted to assist, if I had the time. However, Fondor awaits." He feigned a note of sadness in both tone and thought. "However, I could put you into contact with Ambassador Elijah King of the Kiribian Systems Union. I've been working with the KSU as of late on some humanitarian projects, and I believe they would be keen to assist you with their technologies. Their approach to agricultural development is gentle and elegant in a way that I believe your people would find acceptable."

There. He gave her some crumbs, but she would have to do the legwork for the rest. In a manner of speaking.

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Dinner ended without much fanfare, and fortunately, without any additional bawdy input from Fatine. The young actress had grown bored of the discussion regarding social and agricultural reform, and quickly made her exit as soon as it was appropriate for her to do so.

With the aid of Mykel's Force Light suffused unto her, along with a good meal, Cora was feeling well enough to walk short distances unaided. The flat edges of her low-heeled shoes left a muted click along the hardwood flooring as she made her way down the guest wing. Jedi robes had been traded for a long-sleeved white top with a high neckline, and a sweeping skirt of deep turquoise. An outfit that was distinctly Ukatian, and perhaps a little more conservative than core standards.

It was the duty of a good host to check in on their guests and ensure that they had everything they needed. Hospitality was an important social grace for a noble family, but there was another reason Cora felt compelled to see her fellow Jedi-

-And she wasn't sure what it was, exactly. Something in Mykel's demeanor couldn't be explained away by the circumstances they'd found themselves in. Not by the fall of the core, or even the secession of Ukatis.

Ruminating on what it could be would be fruitless, and in the end, might even conjure up something entirely wrong in her search.

Which was why Cora's carefully measured steps came to a stop in front of Mykel's door. She lifted one hand and curled her fingers into a fist, imparting three soft knocks onto the slab of ancient, lacquered wood.

Then, she waited.

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Loungewear

Moments after the third knock, the heavy door slowly swung open by the specter of telekinesis.

"Come in."

In the far corner of the dimly lit room, Mykel sat hunched over a desk, lightwhip fully disassembled before him atop a small rubber anti-static mat. The synthesized voice of a popular female Core musician softly filtered through the air from his low playing radio at one corner of the desk. The Jedi Knight was in the midst of his usual winddown routine for the evening, cleaning and calibrating his primary weapon as he reflected upon the events of the day. His friend had left him with a lot to think about that night.

Cora's approach had been no surprise to Mykel, but the fact she arrived standing was, causing him to bolt up from his seat in delighted astonishment. For the moment, whatever tension lay between them was abated by the positive development, Mykel scooping her up in a gentle one-armed embrace as he met her at the door.

"I kind of expected you to just slide in here on your chair, ha ha, but you look great!"

The blight was still upon her, but it now seemed quelled for the time being, the protective shroud of his Light within her persisting.

His grey eyes ran up and down her stature, noting her change in attire. He recognized it as native Ukatian in style, recalling the large painted Ascania family portrait he had observed in the main hall upon his arrival. She may have been cloistered from the neck down, but the modest cut actually served to accentuate her femineity as opposed to her more utilitarian Jedi robes.

"How are you feeling?"

___________________________________________________________________

Corazona von Ascania​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"Oh," Cora murmured in surprise as she was swept into an embrace. While the blueblood had become more accustomed to touch, affection still sometimes took her by surprise.

Especially within these walls.

It took her a few moments to respond. The awkward laugh that rattled from her was, at least, authentic as she patted Mykel on the shoulder.

And over that shoulder, she could see the disassembled pieces of his lightwhip atop the desk. The sight added a tinge of fondness to her smile.

"Better," she said, pulling back slowly. "I won't be running any marathons soon, but I prefer to stand and walk when I can."

There was a note of dry humor there, but overall, she felt a little more whole. Being able to do something as simple as walk down the hall unaided helped to soothe her spirit.

Now, though, she fixed her focus on Mykel. A single glance slid over his chosen outfit, and one brow rose.

“Black is timeless, but I do have to wonder if you own any other colors.”

The good humor faded from her expression, replaced with something a little more courtly.

"I came to make sure that you were comfortable, and to see if there was anything that you needed." The way that she spoke might've been practiced, but the soft lilt of her voice was genuine in its concern. "You seemed a little off at dinner. I'm sorry if Fatine dug in too hard, she…is certainly spirited."

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

"You never struck me as the running type," he teased. "That's not very demure."

Cora was quick to hit him back with some bants of her own, offering commentary on his stark preference for color, or lack thereof.

"Ah, you're not the first to notice. Well, black helps hide all the stains." He chuckled, giving his collar a flick. "I will admit, while convenient to have a...focused and interchangeable wardrobe on the go, there's a little more to it. Within my enclave, we like to wear black as a symbol for humility and clarity. In darkness, stars shine the brightest, and similarly this is when we reach our highest state of enlightenment and potential, stripping away all distractions until we reach that perfect luminous void. Through research we believe that this was the original interpretation of the Force as observed by the fabled Prime Jedi, as opposed to the modern dualistic view that has come into vogue."

His eyes fell to her skirt again. "Tell you what. Before I leave, I'll step into town to grab a colorful number from one of your amazing tailors. I'll also acquire an equally colorful dress for you where the hemline rises above your ankles, if that's not too scandalous. What's your favorite color, actually?"

He was really getting into their banter, but then her tone turned somber as she shifted focus to his wellbeing, ever the doting friend even when she was the one out of sorts.

He shook his head and let off a handwave. "Fatine? She's quite the spirited one, but she's harmless. Really, she took me back to dinners with my sisters. Plus, seeing your little reactions to her antics was a lovely bonus. Always the taskmaster, even with your siblings, ha ha. Honestly I had a great time with everyone at dinner. Also.." His voice lowered, taking a conspiratorial tenor. "Don't tell Marilla, but I'd like to gift her a scholastic holocron. It's no substitute for the whole university experience, but it would provide her a much needed intellectual challenge."

He kept the conversation on her family, even as he sensed she was hinting at something more. Until that particular "more" was explicitly divulged, he would just dance around it.

"Would you like to take this outside?" He asked while the double doors to the balcony swung open by his phantom touch, silver shafts of moonlight flooding the room and taking ambient hues from warm to cool tones. While she was standing on her own, he still offered his arm for support to lead her out like a proper gentleman of court.

___________________________________________________________________

Corazona von Ascania​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"Ah. It’s a religious thing."

There was an edge to the way smile lifted at one corner, a gesture that indicated even she knew it wasn't the interpretation he was getting at.

"I'm not certain how much it aids in dampening distractions, given the eyes Fatine was making at you," she teased. At least he was going to add a little more color to his wardrobe.

"Oh?" One brow raised, just slightly. "I've more dresses than most people have articles of clothing. And I happen to prefer my hems to sweep the floor." As if to accentuate the point, she grazed a hand along the length of her skirt, stirring a gentle flutter in the fabric. "It's more elegant that way. Get something for Fatine instead, she loves the new styles."

At least he hadn't been offended by Fatine's brazen nature. The girl had certainly begun to earn herself a reputation among the stuffy aristocracy, but Cora was relieved that their father was no longer around to squash her younger sister's spirit. "Somebody has to be the taskmaster," she acknowledged with a quiet little laugh. "Otherwise, this house would fall to anarchy."

Mykel's tone lowered, and Cora raised her other brow. "A holocron? Do you think she's ready for-"

Of course she was. Though she kept to herself, Marilla had read all of the books in their father's study three times over by now. She would be hungry for more, and Cora felt a little pang of guilt for not realizing so sooner.

"I'm certain she'd loved that. You've been so generous with my family, especially after…"

A lot could be inferred by the way she trailed. It seemed they were both fond of dancing around things, but perhaps being direct wasn't always a good thing.

Cora's attention shifted toward the balcony doors just prior to their opening. The evening breeze gently rustled curtains as it rolled past, cool and clear. She looked back to Mykel.

"I suppose. As long as the doors remain open," she said while taking his arm. "Both sets."

There were some conventions she was intent upon sticking to.

On the balcony sat two garden chairs with a little table between them. Though upright, Cora's steps were slow and careful as she leaned on Mykel for support. As they moved through rays of moonlight, the blonde lowered herself onto one of the chairs.

"I am glad that you enjoyed dinner with them," she admitted, sounding a little more earnest than teasing. "What are your sisters like?"

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Outside, the stars glittered brightly and several nebula were visible, painting brushes of lavender, violet, and indigo across the night sky like watercolors. Few times before had he been able to witness the night sky with such clarity planetside. With relatively little industrialization, light pollution was minimal on Ukatis, especially out in the countryside at the Ascania estate.

After helping Cora to her seat, he joined her at the table, studying the heavens for a little while.

"I grew up on Coruscul in the Core, but I was born on Kashyyyk. Fog usually hangs low on the jungle floors and obscures much, but on the mountains or out to sea, at night you'd be treated to amazing views just like this one."

Just as crystal clear as the sky above, it was painfully obvious she wanted to inquire about some deeper matter but couldn't. Both of them were plagued by the same avoidant ticks, the air palpable with thoughts and feelings left unvoiced. They really were two peas in a pod.

"Kaela and Tyce?" he asked, leaning back into his chair reminiscing. "Kaela is the second oldest. She's very much an A-type personality. Fiery. Very intense, super competitive, especially with me, ha ha." He could laugh about it now, but as kids, as much as he loved his sister, there had always been a degree of latent tension that often existed between the eldest and middle child. The latter having a chip on her shoulder from the perceived lack of attention in comparison to her other siblings, pushing her to excel. "Thankfully she mellowed out since I left for the NJO. I suppose a little space made her realize how much she really enjoyed my company. I miss her a lot. She plans on being a Knight like me, and I see her being quite the force in the future. I almost pity the Sith that ever have the misfortune of crossing her."

"Tyce, on the other is a total goofball. She really takes after our dad who's quite aloof. A lot of times she seems more at home with the animals and spirits than other people. She actually shares an affinity for plants like you do, but then she's also really obsessed with collecting mushrooms..." He frowned. "Mold, and fungus in general. Talking to her can be an adventure in itself. Sometimes it feels like she's not even there, mind off a million lightyears away. Maybe in a different reality altogether. And then suddenly she's wrapped around me like I'm the only other person in the universe."

He let out a content sigh after that, troubled mind soothed by cherished memories of his family. Before the dark times.

___________________________________________________________________

Corazona von Ascania​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

There was a simple pleasure in listening to Mykel speak so fondly of his sisters. It shed a little more light onto the sides of him she hadn't quite seen - and explained how he was easily able to handle dinner with her own siblings.

"So you're close to them," Cora surmised. "That's good. How do you think you'll fare when Kaela begins her training? I was beside myself with worry when Lysander was a Padawan…"

The good humor trailed from her tone, suspending itself in the cool night air. Cora's eyes swept along the balcony floor for a few long moments as she allowed the ache to move through her. It was the bittersweet sort, fond memories interlacing with what felt like a betrayal.

She didn't let that thought damper her spirit for long, letting it brush past her like a cloud shading the moonlight.

What did the moon look like on Kashyyyk? She knew, once.

"Perhaps you could find the time to bring Tyce for a visit," she insisted. "Ukatis has some of its own unique species she could forage for. Some are even in the grove, out there."

Cora tilted her chin towards a darker patch of forested land, before raising her hand to point. "We would play there often, and I can't remember their names, but these big, wide mushrooms would grow on logs. They looked like sponges, almost." Her brow creased gently as she tried to remember, now holding her hands out in an approximate width of the fungi. "My brother Volk ate one, once. Made him sick as a dog, but we found out later that if you dry them out and crush them into a powder, they make a surprisingly good remedy for stomach issues."

The grin that had found her face was slow to fade into something quieter. It was easy to lose her way down memory lane, but she figured that Mykel would allow a moment for it.

"You love them," she sighed. "They're fortunate to have a brother who knows them so well. And who loves them so much. I think that's worth more than most take it for - being known so deeply."

Cora let her words rest in the cool night air between them. The hum of cicadas near a marsh below filled the silence with the steady buzz of late summer.

"Some of those things you said to me earlier…" Her next exhale came close to a short laugh.

"Well, I suppose that I needed to hear them. But more than the fallout of my own choices, I can't help but feel as though there's something else that weighs on your mind."

Something. Or someone.

Cora didn't shift in her seat, but she did turn her head to appraise Mykel with an expression that might be familiar - kindly and gentle, a steady presence that asked little and accepted much.

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Cora initially shared in his mirth as he lovingly reminiscenced about his sisters, but some of that cheerful energy was abated at the mention of her most divisive sibling.

Lysander. The first time he had heard that name wasn't from Cora but from watching that blasphemous Kaggath unfold over the holonet, gut wrenching as he witnessed the bloody orgy of violence desecrate the Valley of the Jedi. Again the name came up from after action reports of the Hidden's raid on a Sith-held spice production facility, the wicked teen killing Jedi and attacking Master Noble in defense of drug peddlers and slavers.

It seemed every glowing achievement of Cora was now shadowed by a new folly of her brother, yet another troubled Ascanian man becoming an albatross.

He afforded her mercy by not probing. Lysander choices as a man were his own and Mykel would not hold her as his keeper.

"As far as the training goes, she should be fine. At our enclave we begin training basically from the cradle to instill strong ethics to discourage us from abusing our gifts and hurting others. I like to believe our foundations are quite solid."

Coming into the NJO, he believed he had serious problems with emotional regulation, but time with his peers soon led him to the discovery that his issues weren't as glaring as he thought, putting it nicely...

"However...my concern does lie with her performing field work as a woman. Sith are especially cruel with female Jedi, as you know better than most." He sighed. "But the Sith hunt us relentlessly for just existing while we've wanted nothing but to be left alone. So who is it for me to say she can't fight for herself? They'll come for her either way."

The conversation came back to a positive turn as Cora shared some memories of her forest adventures with her siblings, now smiling. Despite her tribulations, she was not in want of joyful memories of her own.

He could have spent all night listening to her stories, but as he dreaded, she wouldn't let go.

"Well, I suppose that I needed to hear them. But more than the fallout of my own choices, I can't help but feel as though there's something else that weighs on your mind."

Rising from the table, he stepped over to the balcony's thick stone railing and leaned against it with folded arms, eyes downcast on the moon-kissed marshes beyond the castle walls.

"Honestly, I want to despise you, Cora." He finally answered, edge rising in his voice. "In spite of you service to the NJO, we both know what you're doing is foul, when the Alliance has given Ukatis so much already. Let you all get away with far too much, this world rife with chauvinists, cultists, and conspirers who invited the Sith into Alliance space. Something within me calls to spew nothing but venom at you right now..."

That something in his mind called for him to do more than voice his discontent. To protect the Alliance at all costs, no matter who or what got in his way. There should be no secession.

"But I hold myself back...because of how I feel about you, outside of our duties and vows." The edge broke as his voice quavered on the last words.

___________________________________________________________________

Corazona von Ascania​

​

​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora looked on in silence as Mykel stood, settled himself against the railing, and cast his gaze over fields and forests dappled in starlight.

Quietly, she invited not just his words, but the complicated emotions they were tangled in to wash over her. It wasn't easy - confronting unpleasant concepts never was - but she felt it to be necessary.

At the mention of his particular feelings towards her, Cora let her gaze drift into the corner of the stone balcony. There, they found a little tuft of creeping moss to focus on while she thought.

Frankly, Ukatis took more than it gave - from her, from the Alliance. They both knew that the loss of one little agriworld wouldn't deal a deathblow to the Alliance's economy, but the message it sent had been loud enough for the galaxy to hear. The dominos had begun falling, and it was only a matter of time before the house collapsed in on itself.

Chauvinists, cultists, conspirers…

"The Alliance never looked kindly upon Ukatis," she murmured. "I had hoped that you would be able to see what it's worth - that the lives here are worth just as much as they would be anywhere else in the galaxy. For every chauvinist, cultist, and conspirer, there’s a farmer, a stone mason, and a milkmaid.”

Her tone was soft, quiet, and almost on the cusp of defeat, exhausted from years of defending her countrymen in what felt like a hypocritical battle.

A slow breeze trawled over the foliage below, trembling leaves and swaying branches. Soon, it rolled over them, gently rustling strands of hair and loose fabric.

Cora placed her flesh hand over the wound festering in her chest.

"Sometimes this amplifies what I'm feeling. Particularly when I'm frustrated. The Dark has a way of preying on our more vulnerable feelings and making them seem bigger than they really are."

Her hand fell into her lap, fingers twining with metal digits. She hadn't bothered with gloves. Mykel wasn't disturbed by her prosthetic.

"Like turning shadows into monsters," she added softly. “We shouldn’t ignore the shadows, but we shouldn’t let them take too much of us, either.”

Mykel Dawson