Private In the Garden of Eden

[Corazona von Ascania]

The Harvest Festival had been a success. No major upsets, and the local populace seemed to mesh well with the off-worlders. Above all, the Alliance personnel who'd been present for her sudden and disastrous engagement party several months prior seemed to enjoy themselves.

A step in the right direction, if there ever was one. The crown was still wary of the galactic superpower, but ultimately accepting of their aid.

The celebrations went on through the night until long after dark. In the small hours, when most attendees had gone home, Corazona found herself alone in the gardens.

Even a social butterfly could find her batteries drained after such a long day playing diplomat. After swapping her corset and dark pink gown for a more comfortable white tunic tucked into a gauzy blue skirt, the Princess procured a bottle of wine from the cellar and stole away into the maze of gardens at the front of her family's estate for her own quiet after party.

Seated on a bench with half a glass of red in her hand, Cora reflected on the day. The people she'd met, the resounding popularity of the racyons, and the general merriment that came with a festival.

It was late, but the fairy lights adorning the high, neatly manicured bushes provided a soft glow for her private musings. The residual buzz of the party was distant, muffled by the labrynth of shrubbery. It was a pleasant white noise against a backdrop of cicadas chirping in the ponds.

Cora tilted her head back, resting it briefly against the dense brush of a shrub and sighed.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

She would hear the audible breath before she could see Makko. It was almost like an answer to her sigh.

He had been walking a short distance from the winding down celebrations. He had seen her meandering to the gardens. Makko had followed until the very last turn, until his nerve had faltered.

Slow and silent, Makko walked up to the bench and sat down. He made no more eye contact than they had shared so far all day. He was dressed well, for Makko. He wore a plain smart tunic instead of a vest or something riddled with neon lights.

For three months they had remained in contact. The first few weeks after the wedding had been the hardest. Every day had hurt knowing that the worst has come to pass. She had been made his princess.

It had been far, far worse for Cora. That was why he had held on. He hadn't expected that using his holonet skills to publish her anonymous blog and expose on Utakis socialites and nobility would have been the one thing that genuinely helped her get through the days.

Makko did not know where she had cut her writing teeth. Cora was probably never going to reveal that.

He turned, grinned from one corner of his mouth, and apologised.

"Probably shouldn't have come today," he said.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

He sat down next to her. One eye opened to peek at Makko.

"No," she sighed. "You really shouldn't have."

Cora had spent the past few months trying to suppress how much she'd missed Makko.

"You know that it's incredibly rude to stalk a lady, right? I could scream and you'd be thrown into a jail cell by the end of the night."

Being with Makko hadn't always been easy, but it had been worth the heartbreak, she thought. Past the rough exterior, he was gentle and kind and thoughtful.

Everything her husband was not.

The calls and messages they shared had been a lifeline. Cora had tried to push him away several times, guilty for the pain she'd caused him, but he'd stubbornly held on.

It was very different when he was here, in the flesh. It would feel like the most natural thing in the world to squeeze his hand or rest her head on his shoulder, forbiddingly so.

Cora wasn't exactly sure how to act around her former lover. It was highly, highly inappropriate for her to be alone with a man who was not her husband, father or brother.

She swept those thought away with a sip of wine, the offered him the bottle. As she did, Cora looked at him a little more closely. He was dressed nice. The Princess made a soft noise of approval from the back of her throat.

"You look like a peasant."

It was said with an air of dry fondness, at least.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

"No," she sighed. "You really shouldn't have."

He offered a quick little tilt of his head to one side to acknowledge the reply. Makko had spent so much time trying to decide if he dared make the journey. He was certain he would have change his mind if he had tried to put together a message to tell her.

"You look like a peasant."

Makko looked down at his outfit. He had thought he had dressed quite nicely. A few months ago Cora had been buying him clothes on her seemingly limitless credit card.

"Probably lucky no one arrested me on my way in to the gardens then," he replied with a grin.

Makko had expected this to be difficult. Time had passed and with it a lot had changed. Instead it almost felt the same as any casual conversation they had held back at the Order.

That was almost worse.

He took a swig from the open bottle. His heart thundered in his chest.

"You look..."

He nearly said 'like a princess'. Those words didn't carry quite the same connotation as they once had.

"...amazing."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"Thank you."

Cora didn't feel amazing.

"I don't think that I need to spell out how bad it would be if the wrong person were to see us here."

She didn't sound concerned. She sounded tired, and maybe even a little amused. Most people would be sleeping at this hour.

Cora shifted forward, adjusting the delicate fabric of her skirt with one hand as she settled. From the corner of her eye, she watched Makko take a hit from the bottle while she enjoyed a slow sip of wine.

There'd been a hailstorm of emotions swirling around them in the wake of her departure. With time and distance, Cora had managed to compartmentalize the trauma of her wedding night and keep her feelings for Makko at arms length.

It was easier to do from behind the screen of a holopad. Simply seeing him here, in the flesh, was enough for those feelings to begin to stir again.

"I saw you with Valery and the kids. Is your lip alright?"

She almost cut her musing short, a flush darkening pale cheeks before she tilted her head away demurely. Cora had caught sight of Aeryn grasping at Makko's lower lip, but it still felt almost too personal of a question.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

Makko laughed softly and ran his thumb over his bottom lip.

"Yeah, it's fine," he replied. "The three of them are pretty grabby. Noisy, too."

His lip wasn't swollen, but there was a slight crick in his nose that hadn't been there before. That hadn't quite healed after a series of fist fights on thyrsia.

It had been a rough first month after the wedding. After that he had started to compartmentalise and refocus on his training. He was almost a jedi knight. But Cora knew most of that.

He let his sense stretch out around them. There was no one in the immediate area. More importantly he wasn't even in the same city.

Three months wasn't long enough. He took a slow breath and let his feelings flow down the bond that had grown between them. Training it over great distances made it feel even more natural when they were this close.

"Did you, erm, get to talk to Valery?" he asked.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Thinking of the triplets made her smile. They'd always been energetic—they were Valery's kids after all.

"They've gotten so big, haven't they?"

The smile faded when she felt his feelings brush up against her own. It was a tether that managed to stretch across the galaxy, but Makko was the one doing the most of the work to maintain it. He'd always been better at that sort of thing.

That, and she hadn't been able to connect with the Force as well since she'd been married.

Cora swallowed thickly. She balanced the wine glass against her knee while her fingers idly spun her wedding ring.

"I haven't, no." she answered quietly.

A deep exhale suddenly passed from her lips, and Cora placed a hand on the bench to steady herself as she leaned back.

"I should."

There was some guilt in her tone. Guilt in her mind, which he would feel given their close proximity. Shame and pain woven together with threads of longing.

"I'm glad that you're still here, Makko. With the Jedi, I mean." Cora was quick to correct herself.

"I wondered if you would…go back to…"

Back to Denon. Back to his life as a criminal.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

"They have, yeah," Makko replied.

Another thing to mark the passing of time. He knew that eventually they would start to drift apart. It was inevitable. There was one piece of news he feared above any other. That of an heir being on the way.

"Nah, I'm not going back there," he replied. "Needed a bit of time away from Coruscant but I'm good."

She had enough context around what 'good' meant in this situation.

There has been a few times when he had wondered if any of the old gang had the influence to do something truly drastic. His group had been a splinter of an organisation with some influence.

It would have cost him a lot and it would have taken him down a dark path. It had been very, very difficult to turn away from drastic, violent action when it came to Horace.

Makko watched her hands and grinned.

Still? He thought to himself. It brought back a number of memories when she had fiddling with something to take her attention away. Away from him.

"Why does that feel wrong?" he asked, reaching towards her hand before he could stop himself. His hand stopped just a few inches away.

"The ring, I mean."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"Nah, I'm not going back there," he replied. "Needed a bit of time away from Coruscant but I'm good."

Cora turned her gaze back towards Makko as concern flickered in her eyes. She wasn't meeting him head on, but it was as brazen as she'd been in their conversation so far.

Then he was grinning, then he reached for her hand, then he stopped after realizing what he was doing.

It probably felt like the most natural thing in the world for Makko to reach for her.

He hadn't touched her, but the skin at her knuckles still tingled faintly.

Cora didn't realize that, through the entire exchange, her pupils had flared and her breathing became audible.

"Probably because of…what it represents, I'd imagine."

Her voice strained to reply as she curled her hand into a loose fist, observing the polished silver band with flecks of dark purple stone. It was a beautiful ring, and Cora liked beautiful things.

She hated her wedding ring, though. A literal and symbolic chain to her beast of a husband.

Cora uncurled her hand and turned it over, palm up in order to examine the band from a different angle, to see how the violet specks caught the soft lighting.

Inadvertently, her fingers brushed against his own for a brief moment.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

Why didn't it feel more strained?

It would have been easier if he'd felt a divide between them. There was a divide between them now. Between the lives they led. It didn't matter in the confines of there here and now.

There was a flare of anger as she gave an explanation of the ring.

Her hand brushed against his own at it was swallowed up. He had been trying so hard to contain his anger. The walls were already in place and that prison was buried as he let the memories flood in.

Makko had assumed that he would not see her face to face again.

His hand curled into a loose fist. Makko looked up and met her gaze.

"I'm sorry I came here and I'm also sorry I didn't find a way to see you sooner," he whispered.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Her fingers only grazed his own for a second, but it was enough friction to start a fire.

In order to survive, Cora had been playing her cards close to her chest. Her world had been full of corsets and fake smiles and a thousand thoughts left unspoken. Physical and mental bruises were best concealed beneath a layer of concealer and a courtly demeanor.

In that scant moment of touch, the walls around her heart fell and she took in his anger. It burned, but she reveled in the raw passion of his rage before it dissipated.

By the time it had dispersed, Makko had caught her eyes with his own. This time, she did not shy away.

"I'm just glad you’re here." She insisted with defiance in her whispered words.

"I…."

A thousand things she wanted to say. A thousand things would be left unsaid.

Cora's brow crinkled as she caught sight of the slight crick in his nose. Without thinking, she raised a hand to his cheek, fingertips ghosting over his skin.

"What happened to your nose?"

It was more of a demand than a question.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

It should have been awkward and painful and stilted. All the things that marked the passage of time and everything they had been through on the way.

It should not have felt so similar to all those private moments between them that had come before. Makko couldn't help but feel that he was both being reckless at the same time as disrespectful to the reality of their situation.

That strange little thought was fighting against the current. Against the flow of passion. From the little flash heat of frustration and anger to the warmth of his adoration and the full myriad of feelings she evoked. There was that little twist in his gut that was just like that first moment of free fall, or being catapulted into hyperspace.

Makko tilted his cheek into her hand and closed his eyes. Force, he'd even missed the scent of her skin.

"Erm," he murmured. She'd asked a question.

"Got punched."

His eyes remained closed, but he smiled out of one corner of his mouth.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

As Makko leaned his face into her caress, everything Cora had ever felt for him came rushing back in an emotional torrent.

The Princess bit her lip. She'd always adhered to the strict set of rules that came with being born into Ukatian nobility. Makko was the one rule she'd consistently broken, from their first kiss to the razor's edge they were now balancing on.

Her gaze drifted closer to inspect his nose, and suddenly she realized how close they were. Blue eyes dropped to his lips, and they were both breathing the same baited, heated air.

Remembering herself, she pulled back abruptly. Hands retreated into her lap before her thumb could rub slow, soothing circles along his cheekbone.

"…Reckless." She breathed. "You've always been so reckless. When it comes to fighting."

Cora cleared her throat and leaned away, crossing her ankles demurely. Simply sitting here with him was highly inappropriate, and she'd been on the precipice of crossing a boundary within her marriage.

"Who hit you?" She asked curtly.

The palm of her hand still tingled with little pulses of electricity. For months, she'd replay the moment of tenderness they shared despite the brutality of their lives.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

Dangerous. This was far more dangerous than some of the situations he'd found himself in. Since Thyrsia he had pushed himself in his training day after day. He'd been in several violent scrapes.

He was far more worried about what Cora could suffer if they were found than getting hurt himself as a jedi. Yet he stayed.

He knew he should have left after Cora pulled back in a burst of self awareness. He didn't even retreat further down the bench.

"This one was a Thirsyian gladiator. I didn't get it set and a dose of bacta in time," he said. He looked proud of himself instead of upset.

"I'll try not to get hurt again."

Makko sighed and let his arm rest on the bench between them. He left his hand with palm facing upwards, where she could place hers.

He should have given her space, but instead all her could hear was a rumble of thunder rolling through a verdent jungle.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora couldn't help the roll of her eyes.

"Good. You'd do well to avoid unnecessary fighting."

It was a demand rather than a suggestion, but concern for his wellbeing underlaid her commanding tone.

Makko had always gotten into too many fights for her taste, owed in part to the fact that he never backed down from a challenge. She didn't know that, in the wake of her departure, he'd been the one seeking them out.

Cora's posture remained tight, shoulders tense and hands clasped firmly in her lap. His hand was the most tempting thing in the galaxy. More than wealth, power, or pleasure. It was comfort. Affection. Acceptance. Things she'd been deprived of since her wedding night.

Silly as it seemed, she'd begun to imagine a future with him. Then, the news of her engagement came and shattered that future.

"Why were you fighting a Thirsyian gladiator?" She frowned. "And why do I feel like that wasn't the only fight you've been in recently?"

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

"If I'm expected to be a jedi and protect people I need to..."

A roll of his own eyes. She wasn't about to buy that.

"I have been training. Buy maybe a few of the fights hadn't exactly been needed. You know?"

Makko offered an apologetic smile. In those first few weeks he had been suffering. She knew that too, but they had carried on because they both knew that she needed a little help carrying the weight of what she was put through.

He glanced down at his hand and then back up at Cora. She had more willpower than he did.

"What news on the Fentons then?" he asked, revealing that he actually read her bulletins before he published them.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"Hmph."

Cora glanced to Makko from the corner of her eye, suddenly blushing at his charismatic smile.

It only inspired the Princess to turn her head away sharply, as if to snub him. But she didn't leave.

His mention of the Fentons brought her attention roaring back. Cora had coped with some of her anger and helplessness by writing an anonymous gossip column about the nobles of court, and Makko helped her to circulate it. She didn't think that he cared about such things.

"Well…rumor has it that Lady Fenton has been seeing Duke Calixto behind her husband's back. The details are fuzzy, but there's chatter that one of the cooks caught them in the vegetable garden of all places, in a rather…compromising position."

Cora was leaning towards him now, eyes sparkling with genuine amusement.

"Oh, and to spite his wife, Lord Fenton may have gotten one of her handmaidens pregnant! Can you believe it?"

Shaking her head, Cora leaned back against the bench and took a generous sip of wine from her glass.

She wasn't looking at Makko, her gaze preoccupied with the pretty flowers at the edge of the garden wall, but her hand slipped into his own.

Surely there was no harm in simply holding someone's hand.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

His heart fluttered as the explanation. For a few seconds he thought that Cora was proposing something indecent.

It was youthful over excuberence. Cora was genuinely retelling the tale and taking some pleasure I doing so. He was glad there was something she could own and control in her life.

"How, er, scandalous," Makko said. He'd read the word enough times in her publications, but it still took him a moment to remember how to say it.

Makko could not help the shuddering sigh as he closed his hand around hers. Three months since he had held her hand. He hadn't wanted it to have such an obvious effect on him.

"How do they hide the kid then? Pay em off?" he asked. Makko let his thumb idly skim up and down the back of her hand.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Makko's hand was a single point of warmth against the brutal chill of reality. It was, without a doubt, far more affection than she'd been shown by her husband throughout their marriage.

Her pulse fluttering, Cora found that her throat was suddenly tight. She cleared it awkwardly, but her voice still cracked.

"S…scandalous indeed."

His thumb stroking the back of her hand felt scandalous, even if it was a simple, innocent touch.

"Possibly." She murmured, then paused to put some genuine thought into her response.

"If she continues with the…situation…she'll be forced out of her position. If Lord Fenton is kind, then he will make sure that she and the child are both well cared for. If not…"

It was not uncommon that the children of affairs, and their mothers, were left destitute. There's even been rumors of them meeting with unfortunate accidents, though nothing confirmed.

Because that would also be scandalous.

Cora squeezed Makko's hand and gazed at the flowers wistfully.

"I do hope that the poor girl makes out alright. What a cruel thing, to be reduce to a pawn in someone's game."

She didn’t get the irony.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

On this occasion, Makko decided to ignore the irony. He had relished challenging Cora, it was the spark that had started everything between them.

He didn't want to go from awkward and uncomfortable to an argument. Not without some conversation in between, at least.

"And I'm sure that if it looked like Lord-ness was gonna do something like that it would make a scandalous headline he wouldn't want?" Makko asked with a grin.

She didn't look at him.

"Hey," went Makko softly. A gentle tug on her hand, only moving it an inch towards him was meant to draw her gaze to his.