Private Interruption

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Marcus and Nez, part 2
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian met her kiss with a low laugh that melted into the moment, a sound caught somewhere between surprise and delight. Her lips were still warm with laughter, her breath sharp with rain and adrenaline. He kissed her back without hesitation, the world narrowing to the press of her mouth and the taste of salt and speed still on his tongue. When she pulled away, teasing him with that dangerous glint in her eyes, he stayed close enough that their foreheads nearly brushed.

"You can call me whatever you like," he murmured, his voice roughened by the wind and the rush of it all. "But here, in Parrlay," his grin turned wicked, "I'm Marcus. Remus Veruna would never let Aurelian be caught down here with the commoners."

Before she could answer, he caught her hands in his, warm and certain, and tugged her along toward the alley's mouth. The city hummed beyond: voices, music, the uneven pulse of nightlife reawakening after the storm. He looked back once, the gold of his eyes bright even in the shadow.

"Come on, Nez," he said, using the nickname like a secret. "Tonight's mission is simple: don't get caught, and follow the crowd."

He laced their fingers and pulled her out into the street. The energy of Parrlay hit them like a tide. Laughter spilled from open windows, lanterns reflected in puddles, and music rose from the lower districts where the air smelled of spice and smoke. For once, there were no guards, attendants, or watchful eyes from balconies above. Just a thousand strangers and the pulse of a city alive.

The first crowd of the night gathered outside a tavern tucked beneath a string of flickering lights. Laughter burst through its doors every time someone came or went. Aurelian slowed, his eyes flicking across the crowd. Most here wouldn't recognize him, and the few who might would keep their silence out of amusement. Parrlay had its own rules.

He turned to her, that reckless grin returning. "Ready?" Without waiting for an answer, he pushed the tavern door open.

Warmth rushed over them: the heat from the bodies, a fiddle cutting through the constant chatter, and the smell of ale and citrus smoke. The place was packed with dockhands, smugglers, and off-duty guards. He guided her through the crowd with a hand at her back until they reached the bar.

"Two," he said to the bartender, sliding a few credits across. Moments later, he handed her a mug of dark ale, foam spilling over his fingers.

"It's not what you're used to," he said with a teasing glint, raising his mug. "No peach wine, no imported whiskey. But," he took a deep swallow, wiped the foam from his lip, and grinned, "it'll do the job."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: You owe me dinner.
Interacting with: Aurelian Veruna

Parrlay at night was a living thing.

The streets pulsed with color and sound, lanterns strung between the narrow stone buildings like colorful ribbons. Rainwater glinted off the cobblestones, catching the reflections of neon signs and passing speeders as laughter and music spilled from every open doorway.

She had never done anything like this.

Not as the Daughter of House Abrantes. Not as anyone but herself. No guards shadowing her steps, no attendants fussing over her hair or the fall of her gown, just the hum of the crowd and the solid warmth of Aurelian's hand leading her through it all.

And when he pulled her down a side street into an open tavern, there was no denying the chaos of revelry within.

The place was alive with noise and heat as people moved shoulder to shoulder, the air rich with their laughter, smoke, and music. Dockhands and traders, smugglers and drifters filled the room, their voices filling the din as they conversed over the end of their day and their plans for the morrow. Even the scents of roasted meat, spice, and smoke made her stomach twist with both curiosity and delight.

"Oh, this is...." Sibylla began only to stop, her eyes wide as she took it all in. "...Absolutely mad."

Aurelian's grin was wolfish at her reaction as he guided her to the bar, and by the time she leaned against the counter, Sibylla's cheeks were flushed a soft pink from the thrill of it all, a beaming grin over her face as Aurelian ordered their first round of drinks.

When the tall, frothy mug of dark ale was handed to her, Sibylla couldn't help but laugh, her shoulders shaking as she wrapped her fingers around it with exaggerated bravery.

"Well, you certainly have a gift for introducing me to new experiences," she murmured with a grin, the tease glimmering in her eyes. None the less, She lifted the mug and took a sip -- only to promptly grimace at the sharp bitterness of the hops.

"Oh, Shiraya, how do you manage to drink that?" she whispered, half-laughing and half-appalled as she leaned in close just to be able to hear him in the chaos of the noise. Having to speak up this much was such a new experience. Even with Dominique at the club, they still spent time in the VIP area than out in the open. Well, until they started dancing, the talking distance didn't matter anymore.

"Let me guess... another thing that grows on you," she said as she narrowed her eyes at him in mock amused suspicion.

As the laughter around them swelled, Sibylla glanced to try to locate where the scent of roasted meat and butter drifted through the haze. Much to her embarrassment, her stomach growled.

"Or perhaps," she began, grateful that the noise wouldn't be caught with such a loud crowd, adding with wry humor as she looked at Aurelian pointedly, "it simply tastes better when accompanied by something to eat. I do believe you owe me dinner."

She even gave him an amused, defiant lift of her chin, once again bringing the mug to her lips, only to add, "And would you look at that... not too many candles or violins."

Both brows perked now in challenge.

"So Marcus... what's for dinner?"

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Sibylla locked away in the Abrantes tower.
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian couldn't help but laugh when she grimaced, the sound slipping easily from him: low, warm, unrestrained. "No, Nez," he said, shaking his head as he leaned closer so she could hear him over the din. "This one doesn't grow on you. It only gets better once you've had enough of it that you can't taste how awful it is." His grin deepened, eyes bright with mischief. "It's certainly no Corellian whiskey. But it is cheaper."

He raised his own mug, taking another deliberate sip with the air of a man proving a point, then set it down on the bar with a clink. "But," he added, glancing down at her, "you're right about one thing: Food."

Flagging the bartender with two fingers, Aurelian rattled off an order with practiced ease. This was the kind of food he'd only eaten on rare escapes like this. "Two plates of fried nerf strips, roasted root wedges, and," his eyes flicked to Sibylla with amusement, "whatever passes for bread around here that won't crack a tooth." The bartender nodded and disappeared into the back.

Aurelian turned back to her, resting his elbows on the counter, watching her as the noise of the tavern swelled around them. "It might not be the dinner you were expecting," he said, his voice low, almost conspiratorial, "but I almost prefer this version of you. Wide-eyed, daring enough to come down here, looking like you might either bolt or kiss me again at any second."

His smile softened for a moment. It was still teasing, but threaded with something fonder, more real. "It's like Papa Abrantes never let you out of the house." The line came with a smirk; his tone gentled on the edges, fond rather than mocking. He nudged her elbow lightly, the gesture casual, familiar. "Though I suppose that's good for you. I'm a few years ahead of you. If we'd gone to the academy at the same time, I'd have gotten you into far too much trouble."

He leaned in, his grin sharpening. "Sneaking you out through side gates, convincing you to skip your etiquette lessons, taking you to places like this long before you were supposed to see them."

The food arrived then, steaming and fragrant. It was simple tavern fare, rich with butter and spice. He slid a plate toward her. "Dinner, as promised," he said, tapping his fork against the edge of his mug. "No violins, no candles, and no courtiers trying to listen in." He took a bite, chewed, and gave a satisfied nod. "See? Better than it looks."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: Would you have even noticed me?
Aurelian Veruna

"Pray tell then, how many must one drink before its taste ceases to offend?" Sibylla retorted with a wry arch of her brow, setting the mug down on the bar top, though not so far that she could not keep a watchful eye upon it.

She might not have much experience wandering the more rugged corners of Parrlay, but she was neither naive nor careless. Even in the courts of Naboo, one learned quickly that unattended drinks could be an invitation to trouble.

Still, the true surprise of the evening came when Aurelian ordered their food with the casual ease of a man who'd done this many times before, eating her assumption that he'd scoff at such meager offerings. Sibylla's brows arched high, amusement lighting her face as she took in the sight.

"And here I was prepared to witness your utter disdain for a humble burger and root wedges from McYoda's," she said lightly, her laughter bubbling through the noise around them. A few soft waves of chestnut hair slipped forward as she shook her head in amused teasing delight.

When he told her he almost preferred this version of her, the heat rose fast at her collar to bloom across her cheeks, but she refused to let him have the upper hand.

"Wide-eyed and daring?" she countered with a flash of a grin, "And here I thought my knocking you on your back was all it took," she quipped back in challenge, those hazel eyes glinting with mischief, the green flecks sparkling in the golden light.

She leaned forward slightly, her smile turning playful.

"Although I suppose I might be persuaded with another kiss or two...depending on how good these nerf strips of yours turn out to be." Another teasing quip as she leaned into the banter and flirting. She enjoyed talking to him like this. It was fun.

When he mentioned her father, she gave a bright, amused laugh.

"Oh, he took me out often enough," she said. "I assisted him with work whenever he traveled off-world. But no, we certainly never ventured into establishments quite like this."

Her gaze drifted toward a raucous group in the corner, where a handful of spacers had started a bawdy rendition of an old spacer shanty. Sibylla's grin widened, her nose scrunching in delight.

"No... nothing like this," she agreed, shaking her head as if to clear the thought. She'd been far too concerned with her studies and reputation with the Youth Legislature even then.

"Mmmm... you know," Sibylla added, turning back to him, tapping her finger lightly on the bar before resting her chin in her hand.

"Standing in that austere fortress of yours earlier, I found myself wondering what it must have been like...growing up there, then heading to the Academy, and later the Defense Force." Her expression softened. "I heard plenty of tales, of course, but how much truth lies in them has always been a curiosity of mine."

Her lips curved again, the teasing returning as she added, "Although I suspect I'd have had to learn how to explain my sudden disappearances without being caught in a lie. You'd have been a proper menace, Marcus -- a dangerous and thoroughly tempting one."

When the food arrived, Sibylla wasted no time diving in. The aroma alone reminded her of the winter bazaars of Dee'ja Peak, where she'd sneak bites of fried sweets under her mother's disapproving gaze. The first taste was heaven.

"Mmm," she hummed, licking the seasoning from her fingers. "I'll grant you this -- it's delicious."

Grinning, she reached for a root wedge and gestured toward him with it.

"But really, do you think we would have gotten along at the Academy? From what I heard, you and Cas really didn't get on well then... much less had his younger sister anywhere near your radar."

Her eyes sparkled as she took another bite.

"You used to frustrate me endlessly at work, you know. All that pomp and theatrics, surrounded by your entourage... charming everyone within five meters. And somehow, after we'd all spent hours negotiating, you'd swoop in and have the agreement sealed with that maddening smile of yours."

And while her tone was full of mock exasperation, the affection behind it was unmistakable.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: I see you now.
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian laughed softly, the sound curling like smoke between them. "For you?" he said, glancing at her mug. "One and a half. Any more than that, and I'd be hauling you back to Dee'ja Peak before you tried to debate the furniture." His grin tugged wickedly at the corner of his mouth. "But you're holding your own. I'm impressed."

He tipped his mug in her direction and took another swallow, watching her over the rim. "And for the record, I would never disrespect the food made in Parrlay," he said, setting it down with a faint clink. "This?" He gestured at the plate between them, at the butter-glazed wedges and crisp nerf strips. "This is real. Made by hands that work for every credit they earn. You taste that effort in every bite. No prepackaged McYoda's bantha sludge pretending to be culture. Parrlay cooks understand something Naboo rarely does: comfort can be honest, not polished."

He leaned closer, voice dropping low. "Besides," he murmured, brushing an invisible crumb from her sleeve, "you may be proficient in fighting dirty with me, but there's still plenty I could teach you about life outside your gaudy Dee'ja Peak walls." His thumb lingered against the fabric, a dangerous touch that was anything but casual.

His grin widened as he caught her eye. "Tell me, Sibylla, did you daydream about me up there in my 'austere fortress'? Is that what you're confessing?" He tilted his head, the mischief in his gaze sharpened by the dim tavern light. "Because now I'm curious what those tales of mine sounded like. What did they say about the infamous Lord Veruna? That I broke rules? Broke hearts? Or that I was one worth keeping an eye on?"

For a heartbeat, he let the teasing hang between them like the hum of a live wire. But when he saw the question in her expression, genuine curiosity wrapped in warmth, something in him stilled. His voice dropped, the playfulness thinning but not vanishing. "Truth is, I don't remember much of those years fondly," he admitted. "And not because of you, or anyone, really. I was rash. Childish. Thought the world bent around me just because of my name. I wore arrogance like armor, and I was damn good at pretending it wasn't heavy."

He gave a short, humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair. "The fortress wasn't home so much as a cage with nicer curtains."

Then, as if unwilling to linger in that shadow, he looked back at her and let the corner of his mouth lift again. "But you," he said softly, "you seem to remember the show well enough. All that pomp and theatrics you claim to despise…" His tone turned teasing again. "You paid rather close attention for someone so endlessly frustrated by me."

He brushed her knuckles with his own, a deliberate spark of touch that made the air between them hum. "Don't think I didn't notice. The way you glared when I interrupted your meetings, that little sigh of exasperation every time I smiled at someone else. You might've been plotting my demise, but it was a very attentive kind of disdain."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: Oh, the tales I heard...
Aurelian Veruna

Needless to say, Sibylla only grew more impressed by the minute as Aurelian lauded the merits of a meal cooked by hands that had worked hard for every credit earned. But more importantly, it was the conviction in his expression, the glint of his amber eyes, and the way he made a case for the butter-fried nerf strips and wedges. Truly, he could have made the same argument in the Senate, signed into legislation that the Senate Mess Hall be staffed by Parrlay tavern cooks, and still have the Senators applaud him for it.

It was another layer peeled back from Aurelian Marcus Veruna, another side of him that only made Sibylla's broad smile soften and her eyes linger on him with a gaze equal parts light and heavy with affection.

The look of a woman falling deeper in love with him.

Another light laugh escaped her as she brought the ale back to her lips, taking a long sip before laughing again despite the bitterness. Somehow, the alchemy of food and drink made the savoriness of the fried meat bloom richer, the umami blending in a way that made the ale almost pleasant.

All the while, her fingers lifted, brushing against his hand, tracing the lines of his knuckles with a light, idle touch. She drew faint circles against his skin that was every bit as much about wanting to touch him as it was about simply enjoying his company.

The faint flush that deepened across her cheeks said enough about where her thoughts wandered.

When Aurelian's expression sobered, the light dimming slightly in his eyes as he spoke of growing up on the Rainspire and the Academy, Sibylla's hand stilled. She curled her fingers gently over his and gave a soft squeeze. Not one of pity, never that, but one that said she understood. That she knew what it meant for him to let even a sliver of vulnerability show.

But of course, he was never one to let a moment stay somber for long. Sibylla shook her head at him, lips twisting into a wry smile before she rolled her eyes in amusement.

"Well, if there is anything I am good at, it is observing. Watching people is my specialty..."

A fleeting thought crossed her mind -- Ace 's voice echoing from memory.

Smart as you are, crafty, cunning, good at watching people. You still don't understand.

The recollection dimmed her smile for a heartbeat. Thinking of him, of what they'd lost, brought a dull ache to her chest. He had wanted her to leave him alone, to give him space, blaming her for a hurt she had never intended to cause -- for simply trying to follow her own heart.

She didn't regret the Masquerade or her time with Aurelian. What she had told him that night had been true. She didn't care who saw her with him.

What she did care about was how her choices always seemed to hurt someone she cared for.

But the ache lingered only a moment. Sibylla took a deep breath and turned back to Aurelian, pushing the thought aside.

"Of course I paid close attention to you. You are a hard man to read between your theatrics and the intent behind them," she said with a small smile and all the times she had spent simply observing him, trying to get a read on what his in his mind and all those silent conversations that seemed to follow with his eyes. "Had it not been for working together on the Sundari Treaty, I might still think you were all charm and bluster."

She paused, then chuckled softly.

"No. That's not true." Her thumb brushed over the top of his hand in slow, thoughtful circles. "I remember listening to your speeches before that during my Junior Senatorship. The way you stood up to the Confederacy for what happened at Dee'ja Peak after the Mandalorian occupation."

Her voice softened as she thought back to that, the chaos of the tavern and their revelry waning in her musings.

"I found myself agreeing with you more and more. Not just because of your rhetoric -- though you were very good at it -- but because I saw the merit in what you said."

Then came the inevitable roll of her eyes, her teasing grin returning.

"But yes, you certainly used that charm of yours whenever it suited you. You were rather shameless about it, especially with Lady Sera Mina." she added in a tone that held mock irritation as she thought back to the Garden Auction and perhaps the faintest trace of jealousy. As if catching herself, Sibylla flushed again, and she took another sip of her ale before diving back into the talk about his Academy days' infamy.

"In any event, regarding the tales from the Academy," she began, leaning forward anew, her eyes bright with mischief, "I heard you were never in Debate Club. Not once. And yet you walked in, won every argument, and were promptly banned for... how did they put it?... 'destabilizing the academic hierarchy.'"

The smile that brightened her face was truly infectious, as the pink apples of her cheeks perked high and the gold and green flecks in her eyes sparked in avid amusement.

"And rather than accept defeat gracefully, you returned the following week disguised as someone named Aurelio Vern. Which, I'm told, was simply you in a pair of sunglasses."

She paused, shaking her head slowly, lips curving into a knowing grin.

"But my favorite story was about your so-called peer mentorship study group. The one you swore to the faculty was purely academic."

Her laughter softened into something utterly delighted as she bit her lower lip and then gave a quick upward perk of her brows as if unable to help admiring his madness.

"In truth, it was an unregulated sabacc tournament...with dramatic lighting and a scoreboard to see who could win while quoting philosophy. And when they finally caught you, you told them you were enriching the youth."

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: They're all true
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian's grin broke wide and shameless when she claimed to be good at watching people. "Oh, I know you are," he said at once, his laughter roughened by amusement. "I used to catch you staring all the time." He tilted his head, feigning contemplation, though the glint in his amber eyes was pure mischief. "Back then, I thought it was disdain, that you were cataloguing every one of my faults for your next report to the Senate Ethics Committee."

He leaned in, his knee brushing hers beneath the counter. "But now…" His voice dropped to a murmur. "Now I'm starting to think it was my dashing good looks you were keeping an eye on. My charm. My voice. All those long meetings you pretended to be annoyed, you were just fantasizing about me, weren't you?" He said it like a jest, but the gleam in his eyes was heat, not arrogance. He grinned, bold, unrepentant. "Shiraya, that explains so much."

For a heartbeat, he looked ready to press further, to tease until her cheeks went scarlet. But then he saw it: the flicker of something behind her smile, the faint drop in her gaze. A crack of melancholy too brief for most to notice, but he caught it. Aurelian fell quiet, letting the noise of the tavern fill the space. He didn't ask. He simply waited, steady and patient. He trusted her to choose the moment if she wanted to share something.

When she finally smiled again and spoke of him, of how she had come to admire his words, and even the man behind them, his expression softened. That kind of confession wasn't one he took lightly. Despite his penchant for wit, he said nothing, only smiled in quiet acknowledgment.

Then she mentioned Lady Sera Mina, and his composure shattered with a bark of laughter that startled a few heads nearby. "Oh, stars, that family," he said, running a hand over his face. "You have no idea how strange that encounter was. They invited me onto their private station under the guise of a diplomatic meeting. Next thing I knew, I was surrounded by five generations of Bloodscrawl women, all in gowns, all staring at me like I was a prize stud from Corellia."

He leaned in conspiratorially, grinning. "For a brief, terrifying moment, I thought they wanted me to join their harem. I escaped in a station before they could finalize negotiations."

He chuckled at her laughter, shaking his head, but fell silent again as she launched into his "legendary" Academy escapades. Between bites of nerf strips and a sip of ale, he nodded along, occasionally smirking when she quoted the more absurd details. When she reached the part about his "peer mentorship" sabacc ring, he actually groaned, rubbing his temple. "I'll neither confirm nor deny any of that," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching, "but yes, most of it's true. The faculty never appreciated my contributions to morale. I'm glad the legend lives on, though. I worked hard for that kind of notoriety."

He set his fork down, wiping his fingers on a napkin before leaning closer, his voice dropping low again. "But you," he said with mock solemnity, "would have hated me if we'd been in the same class." Before she could reply, he reached up and brushed his thumb along her jaw, the touch slow and deliberate. "I can see it now. That broody look you get, the one you make when you're trying not to be impressed but are entirely infuriated that you are. You'd sit there, frowning at me while I pulled one of my stunts, your quill snapping in half as you wrote some scathing note to yourself." His thumb lingered just beneath her chin. "And I would've spent the whole lecture trying to make you smile."

He pulled back slightly, though his hand trailed down her arm before retreating. "I heard stories about you, too, you know," he said, his tone softening. "Always first in your class. Always punctual, perfectly poised, infuriatingly prepared. The ideal senator-in-training." His smile curved warmer. "You were everything the Academy hoped for. I was everything they warned about."

He took another slow sip of his drink, eyes glinting over the rim. "So yes, I'm glad you were younger. We would've clashed, brilliantly, catastrophically." He paused, setting the mug down gently. "And yet, it was worth it, wasn't it? Every delay, every divergence, it all led here." He looked around the tavern, the hum of laughter and the clatter of plates filling the gaps between his words. "To this table. To Parrlay. To you sitting here with me."

Aurelian's grin returned, softer now but still bright enough to outshine the dim lights. "I'm thankful for the Sundari Treaty, truly. It let me see the heart behind your polished speeches, the fire behind all that poise. And now, I get to drag you along on my legendary escapades."

He tilted his head, watching her with the kind of affection that didn't need declaring but was there all the same. "Who would've thought, hm? You and me, here of all places." He reached for her hand again, his fingers threading through hers, his tone dropping to a near whisper.

"I'm glad I get to share this with you, Nez. A place I love with someone I…" His voice caught briefly, the sentence unfinished, suspended in the air like a promise. Aurelian smiled then: quiet, real, unguarded. "You know."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: Would you have chosen differently?
Aurelian Veruna

A heavy roll of Sibylla's eyes slipped out the moment he claimed her watching him had all to do with fantasizing about him rather than scrutiny... and while it had certainly not started that way, she couldn't quite fully claim it had been all professional in its entirety. The blush that flooded her face told enough of that, especially after their spar testing the shield.

Sibylla couldn't look at him the same after that.

However, to keep up appearances, the snort that followed was half laughter, half disbelief as Sibylla shook her head at him and took another long sip of her ale.

"And for your information, Marcus, I was not staring. I was… studying." she clarified with a slight gesture of her hand as she wiped her fingers, as if making a pointed presentation that only failed when the corner of her mouth twisted upward.

The remark about the Bloodscrawl family, however, derailed her entirely. The longer he spoke, the more her expression contorted into incredulous fascination. She blinked once. Twice, then a third time for good measure.

"I… what?"

Thankfully, Aurelian clarified that he had escaped the situation intact, though she still had to shake her head as if dispelling some fever dream, and perhaps, a bit pleased that he hadn't been interested in that family in that sense. But the truly amusing part came when he admitted that some of his academic infamy was well earned. That earned him another incredulous look and a slow shake of her head.

"You are incorrigible," she sighed, though the sound carried as much admiration as it did exasperation. Her soft laugh only strengthened when he boldly suggested she would have hated him if they'd been in the same class.

She was ready to retort when his fingers brushed her jaw.

That stole the breath right out of her.

She did not pull away. If anything, she leaned in ever so slightly, her breath catching, the air between them charged in that way it always seemed to be when they got too close. Even as he continued describing his imagined version of her, painted with brooding scowls and snapped quills, affection lit her eyes and softened her smile.

"Broody? Broody? What broody look?" she demanded, head tilting with mock affront… even as she stayed comfortably close to him.

When he withdrew his hand, the spell thinned, though her pulse certainly did not. However, as he was wont to do more and more, his next words drew a fond laugh from her that brightened her flushed face as she enjoyed another wedge and more of her drink.

"Oh, I do not know about being everything they hoped for," she added after swallowing, giving a slight huff of a laugh in remembrance. "If you heard what my instructors said about my questions during lectures, you would swear I was attempting to dismantle the entire curriculum."

Still, she held his gaze, her expression softening at the idea of him as a teenager trying to make her smile in class.

"You would have liked the challenge," she added quietly. "You thrive on it."

A slow breath left her as her thumb brushed over his knuckles, grounding her as much as him. He threaded their fingers together, and she turned her hand naturally into his, their palms fitting with easy familiarity.

The warmth deepened between them despite the tavern's uproar as laughter crashed from nearby tables, voices rose in song, and someone shouting over a lost bet, yet none of it seemed able to intrude on the hush forming around the two of them.

And as his unspoken confession hung between them with a fragile, quiet promise, Sibylla didn't need him to finish it. She understood. She felt the truth in them, the vulnerability he allowed so few to see. And she met it gently.

"I know," she whispered back, understanding without demanding he say more.

They were still figuring this out and still navigating what this meant for them both, personally and politically. But she would not let this mirror the mistakes she'd made with Lysander. She would not wait endlessly for a perfect moment that never arrived.

Nonetheless, her thumb stroked across his hand again as her expression softened into a more contemplative one, her mind going through every step, decision, and divergence that led them here.

"It is curious, truly, when you think about it," she said, her voice softening into thought, considering his previous revelation of going to a Shaman, her own experiences with Set and Vere, and how it seemed as if the very Goddess of Love and Mercy, Shiraya, Vere incarnate, had touched her life in so many different ways that she was still trying to comprehend. Was it all connected, or was it all consequence?

"All the choices. All the chances. Every small divergence that led to this night."

Sibylla took a deep breath as her gaze met his in a mirror of the same expression that studied him back on that night of the Solarium. Only this time, it wasn't to discern intent, but more in curious contemplation on how it had all worked out. How if perhaps anything had been different, she wouldn't be here with him.

For more reasons than one.

"Would you have answered me any differently on Foundation Day if we had never worked together on the Sundari Treaty? Would you have upheld your father's feud if you had never gone to that Shaman? And if I had accepted my post as Ambassador to the Mandalorians and never campaigned for Queen…"

Hazel eyes held his steadily now, searching but not accusing, trying to understand at what point, for him, things changed.

"Would you have made the same decisions then?"

She didn't ask the real question aloud.

Would you have let him kill me?

But it lingered there waiting for the truth he would choose to give.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Fate would lead us here regardless
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian's thumb brushed slow circles over the back of her hand as she spoke, finding a steady rhythm in her touch. Her words carried a quiet weight, the kind that pressed beneath his mask and made him forget how to breathe. He didn't interrupt. He only watched her; the calm beneath her curiosity, the light behind her questions. He tried to decide then whether he admired her courage or envied it.

When she fell silent, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his lips curving into a smile that held both warmth and a touch of ache. For all of his silver tongue, He'd never been very good at this part. Naming things. Defining them. He was afraid that the moment he said it out loud, it'll turn into something smaller than what it is.

He huffed a quiet, self-deprecating laugh, then truly looked at her. She understood though, she was graceful enough to give him the time.

For a heartbeat, he just sat there. The words he couldn't yet give voice to felt immense, a feeling that had already taken root deep in his chest. Infatuation wasn't a strong enough word. He was captivated by her mind, her restraint, her fire. He loved the way she could meet his chaos and not flinch, and how she saw through every pretense he'd ever built without looking away.

So he held her hand and let the truth hang unspoken between them. Then, when she asked her question, the real one behind all the others, Aurelian leaned back slightly. His thumb still traced her knuckles as his expression turned thoughtful.

"Would I have answered you differently?" he echoed quietly, his tone measured, almost reverent. "No. Nothing would've changed."

He let out a slow breath, shaking his head. "For so long, I lived under my father's shadow. Every word, every move was half-performance, half-defense. I thought if I played his game well enough, I could rewrite the rules. But all that swagger, all those speeches, they were just armor. You saw through it long before I did."

A faint, wry, and honest smile tugged at his mouth. "If we'd never worked on the Sundari Treaty, I'd still think you were the best thing that's happened to Naboo. You were the one voice in that damn Junior Senate that still sounded like honest conviction rather than cold calculation." His thumb stilled, then resumed its motion, softer now. "If I hadn't gone to that Shaman… maybe I'd still be pretending the feud mattered. Maybe I'd still be measuring my worth in my father's grudges. But truthfully? I never really cared." His eyes glinted with a flicker of mischief, a hint of the Aurelian she first met. "I'd still hate Cassian the same. Some things are eternal."

He chuckled, but it faded quickly, replaced by something more earnest. He leaned closer, his voice dropping low. "But that's not really what you meant, is it? You want to know if I would have let it happen..."

Aurelian's smile gentled as he met her gaze. "No, Nez. There was never a decision to make. Not about that. I would've never let anything happen to you, not then, not now." He spoke the words simply, but there was steel in them, the kind that came from deep conviction. "I am not a monster like them. I couldn't have stood by, not for anyone's order. Not even his."

He shifted closer until his knee brushed hers again, his fingers tightening slightly around her hand. "Whatever you've heard, every story, every whispered accusation about my father's influence over me, this, here, was mine. My choices. My will." His tone softened then, the edges of pride melting away. "And even if there weren't... whatever this is between us," he gestured faintly between them, "I still would've done the same. You deserve to know that."

Then the grin crept back in, lighter this time, teasing around the edges. "Though, I imagine I still would've annoyed you relentlessly. You'd be in some meeting, trying to keep order, and I'd be outside making some scandalous remark to the press just to watch that vein in your temple twitch." His eyes lit with amusement. "Shiraya help me, I wouldn't be able to stop provoking you. You're… you're magnetic."

His gaze traveled across her face, lingering on the curve of her smile, the way the tavern's lamplight traced gold through her hair. "Your beauty is enough to undo me, stars know. But it's also the way you see people, even me. You look at me and I forget I'm supposed to be performing. You make me want to be better just by sitting across the table."

He leaned forward again, close enough for his voice to drop into something quieter, more intimate. "So maybe it's fate. Maybe it's madness. But I think all those choices, all those twists and detours, were leading us here. In another life, another age, I think I'd still find you. You'd still drive me to distraction. And I'd still fall for you, spectacularly."

Aurelian smiled, the mischief dimming into something tender. "So no," he murmured, his thumb brushing along her hand once more. "Nothing would've changed. I'd still end up right here, with you."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: You are not your father.
Aurelian Veruna

Sibylla didn't answer him at first. She simply stared, the tavern noise fading to nothing around them. The laughter, the clatter, the music… it all blurred and dimmed. Because Aurelian Veruna had just said the one thing she had been terrified to ask and even more terrified to hope for.

When combined with the way he looked at her in that intimate, unguarded heat that was equally mischievously reverent as it was tender in its intimacy, revealing layers of how she managed to affect him so, to draw him out from behind his performative mask, only made her heart pound faster in her chest and her breath catch.

Because this time, instead of quipping that her watching him was some sort of cunning manipulation like Ace had referenced or a scandalous desire to fantasize about him again, he spoke as if the way she looked at him made him want to be better.

When in reality, for Sibylla, she was merely looking at what she already saw there to begin with, not just the potential.

Swallowing hard, she gave him a ghost of a smile, then a slight self-depreciating huff of a laugh, licking her lips just so as she tried to gather her thoughts.

Then after a moment, she leaned in close as if unable to draw away from his gravity, her free hand rising to brush a dark forelock of hair away from his forehead with a slow, tender sweep.

"You are not him, you know," Siyblla murmured with certainty, referencing his father. "And you never were.... nor did I ever think you were a monster."

She had told him so on Foundation Day when he claimed that he would be the monster to keep the wolves at bay. Another gentle cafune of her fingers through his curls for a beat longer before she pulled back just enough to look him fully in the eye.

"I may have studied you more than strictly necessary. But it was because every time I tried to understand you, I discovered another contradiction. And one day, without realizing it, I stopped trying to unravel you and simply wanted to know you."

"And for what it's worth…" her lips curved, soft and sincere, "I am also glad it happened this way...because every misstep and detour means I know you as you are now..."

She tilted her head, studying him like she always did, but there was no guarded calculation now. Only wonder.

"So no," Sibylla said, a hint of mirth curling at the edges of her mouth as she echoed his own phrasing back to him, "I suppose nothing would have changed. I would have still ended up right here with you."

Her smile deepened, playful and fond.

"The man I would have fallen for in any lifetime."

A beat passed, and mischief sparkled in her hazel eyes as she flashed him a wink.

"Or maybe you'd have simply exasperated me into your charming madness."

She squeezed his hand again, more sure than ever.

"But your answer… it matters... more than I can put into words."

Another thought crossed her mind now that the subject had surfaced. She had heard the reports that Remus Veruna had escaped, but in the chaos of Thessaly's return, the campaign, and then Aurelian's coronation, the matter had never resurfaced between them.

Had they not been sitting in a crowded tavern, using their second names like a pair of mischievous fugitives, she might have asked him about it. But not here. Not tonight. It would wait.

So instead, her thoughts drifted to the other person in his orbit.

"But for all this talk of choices leading us here," she said lightly as she plucked the last wedges from her plate, "I do hope you weren't too cross with poor Tona for rearranging your schedule to spend the evening with me."

She popped the final wedge into her mouth, dabbing her fingers on the napkin as her eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Unless, of course, you find burying yourself in ledgers a far better companion for the night," she teased, her tone rich with faux innocence as she raised her brows at him.

"And if I recall correctly," Sibylla added, pointing a playful, lightly admonishing finger in his direction, "you still owe me the story of how Tona became so devoted to you."

And while Sibylla's smile curled into a soft, curious one, the flush of warmth from his earlier confession still lingered on her cheeks.

"…and whether I should be jealous or not," she finished, the quip delivered with an airy jest, but undeniably tinged with genuine wonder.

After all, with Aurelian looking as maddeningly handsome as he did and all his provocations, who wouldn't wonder?

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Such a simple story.
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian's breath left him in a quiet, disbelieving rush when Sibylla leaned in and brushed that forelock from his brow. A gesture so gentle, so intimate, it slipped past every defense he'd ever built. Her certainty sank into him like warm light through stone: You are not him. He'd heard the words before, dismissals and reassurances from allies, mentors, even political enemies trying to manipulate him. But no one said it like she did. No one said it like they believed it.

He shook his head slowly, agreeing, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. "I know," he murmured, his voice low, softer than he ever let it be. "You've helped me see that." He didn't know how she had done it, whether she had carved the truth into him with her stubbornness, or simply uncovered it with her patience, but Sibylla had made him believe he wasn't doomed to echo Remus Veruna's shadow. He could be more. He already was, especially with her.

But then she said it: "the man I would have fallen for in any lifetime," and Aurelian's heart surged so sharply it almost hurt. A hot, swelling pressure beneath his ribs, equal parts awe and wonder and a dizzying sense of inevitability. As if Shiraya herself had threaded them together long before they ever stepped foot in the same Senate room. He wanted to say something profound, something worthy of her, but all that came to him was an unsteady breath and the faintest shake of his head, as if overwhelmed.

When she teased him about burying himself in ledgers instead of spending the evening with her, he let out a more honest laugh, the tension easing from his shoulders like a knot finally loosening. Her playfulness tugged him back into himself, into something lighter, warmer. "Tona?" he echoed, amusement coloring his tone. "I can never stay mad at her. She rearranges my schedule whenever she wants, and I let her because she's usually right." He leaned in, brushing his thumb along the back of Sibylla's knuckles again, then let his fingers slide up to her wrist, drawing her hand toward him. He kissed the inside of her palm, slow, deliberate, his eyes flicking up to hers, not a care in the world where they were. "But I'll forgive today's interference, given the company she delivered me to."

Then Sibylla, bright-eyed and far too lovely for his composure, delivered her final question: whether she should be jealous or not. Aurelian actually choked. His last mouthful of ale nearly went down the wrong pipe as he coughed out a startled, disbelieving laugh. "Jealous?" He wiped his mouth, still laughing as he slapped a pile of credits onto the bar, far more than necessary. It was a small penance for Parrlay, for the people who raised him whether they knew it or not.

He got off the stool and leaned in to peck her lips. "Fair. Come on." He caught her hand in his, warm and sure, and tugged her toward the door. "Best if I show you."

Outside, the night air was cool and salt-swept, birds quiet for once as the tide whispered against the shore. Aurelian looped her arm through his, guiding her down the sloping street toward the docks, a place pulsing with memory. "The short answer," he said dryly, "is absolutely not. You do not need to be jealous of Tona." They passed rows of shuttered stalls, lanterns extinguished, only the moon painting silver across wooden counters.

"Tona is my oldest friend. My most trusted. Practically my sister." He gave Sibylla a sideways glance, lips curling. "And despite what you think of my allegedly devastating charm, she reminds me weekly that she finds men hopelessly dull, especially me." He paused. "In fact, maybe I should be jealous. She and you might get along too well for my own safety. There was an… incident or two involving girls in our youth." He lifted a brow, all feigned gravity. "Competitiveness can be a terrifying thing."

They reached the heart of the docks. Wide, empty wooden planks stretched over dark water. During the day it roared with life: merchants, fishmongers, children weaving underfoot. Tonight it was a cathedral of quiet. "In the morning," Aurelian said softly, "this place wakes up louder than the Senate. It's the pulse of Parrlay. Everything starts here." He walked with her between the empty stalls, fingertips brushing the worn wood.

"It's not a grand story," he admitted. "I came down here once after a particularly nasty lesson from my father." He paused. "He didn't like being… disobeyed." He didn't explain the bruises. He didn't need to. "I was stupid, angry, hungry. I took food from a stall, because I could, I was a Veruna. Got caught by guards who didn't recognize me." He laughed, a quiet, breathy sound. "They were about to drag me off. Jail or my father? I wasn't sure which was worse." He stepped aside so she could see the row of stalls better, the memory painting itself over the night.

"Then Tona appeared. Out of nowhere." A grin, crooked and fond. "And threw fruit at them. Actual fruit. Hit one square in the forehead." He shook his head, the warmth in his chest unmistakable. "We ran. Got away. And that was that. We've been bound ever since."

He looked out at the black water. "She grew up down here. Similar father. Just less… wealthy. She worked these stalls. I used to sneak down whenever I could." His voice softened. "I promised her I'd get her out one day." His fingers slipped down her arm until he found her hand again. "And when I left the Defense Force, she was the first person I hired. Even if she'd been terrible at the job." A grin spread across his face. "Turns out, she isn't. Turns out she might actually be a better politician than me."

He squeezed Sibylla's hand gently as they stood among the quiet stalls. "And no," he added, leaning in just enough for his shoulder to brush hers, "not jealous. Never of her." His eyes flicked to hers, warm, full, beautifully undone. "There's only one woman I'd follow into any lifetime."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: I love seeing you like this.
Aurelian Veruna

Sibylla hadn't meant to enjoy watching him choke on his ale quite that much.

But Shiraya, the moment his eyes widened and he spluttered like a man ambushed by his own drink, Sibylla burst into laughter. Real laughter, the kind that was bright and unrestrained and curled out of her chest to light her hazel eyes with a rare streak of mischief.

And yet, even after he coughed himself back to dignity and slammed a pile of credits on the counter, the smile lingered on her lips. Her cheeks were still warm when he leaned down to give her that quick kiss, and something soft fluttered through her with a warmth that ran down through her ribs and settled right beneath her sternum.

As they stepped outside, her arm slid around his instantly, almost instinctively, as if her body had already decided that was where it belonged. The buzz of the beer smoothed the sharp edges of her constant awareness, letting her lean into his shoulder and simply be as they walked through the portside streets, listening to the low tenor of his voice. The lanterns swayed gently in the salt-scented breeze and as they arrived at the docks, the distant voices began to wane while the rhythmic pulse of the tide rose instead.

And all the while, Sibylla listened as he talked about Tona.

About fruit-pelting rescues. About their stubborn friendship. About loyalty carved in hardship and promises kept. And though she hadn't expected to feel relief, the truth of such a simple heartwarming story made her smile.

"I'm glad you found each other," she said at last, and she meant it. There was no mistaking the warmth in her voice, even if a small, quiet part of her felt a flicker of envy… not of Tona, but of what he had in her. A friendship that was one of the few loyal anchers intertwined with his life. Sibylla understood how important that was. She had that with Cassian, where they'd shared everything, knew each other better than anyone else.

Well… until recently. Things had grown complicated. Painfully so. And it had taken a brawl between the two most stubborn men in her life to finally crack that wall and work towards being close again. It was in her other friendships that she seemed to utterly fail in.

"She truly cares for you," Sibylla went on, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. "Anyone can see it. And I imagine it is a full-time job making sure you don't work yourself into an early grave."

She gave him a teasing nudge lightly with her shoulder.

"I've seen how you get when your mind locks onto something. You forget to eat. Or rest. Or… occasionally breathe." It had been during the Sundari Treaty drafts that Sibylla noticed how he'd rake his fingers through his hair, his brows furrowing, every now and then making commentary under his breath. It had been such a startling sight that she might have studied more had she not been in the same exhausted and focused position.

She found herself chuckling, thinking back to how he said it should be he who should be jealous of her and Tona, not the other way around.

"Well," she hummed, leaning her head lightly against his arm, "no concerns there. Tona has nothing to fear from me." Her tone softened into a sly whisper. "I only seem to lose composure over one maddeningly charming troublemaker."

And yet he was so much more now. The man beneath all that charm and chaos. The one who held her hand like it meant something. The one who saw her. Chose her.

Which only made the next words unravel her entirely.

His low tenor brushed her temple, his hand tightening around hers, his shoulder nudging hers with soft affection as he murmured that he'd only ever follow one woman in any lifetime.

Sibylla stopped breathing.

Just a moment. Just long enough for the world to tilt under her feet and settle again in a slow, tender sweep. His voice. His eyes. The honesty there. It melted through every wall she'd ever built.

She didn't need him to say the words outright. She heard it in everything else.

It was enough. More than enough.

At the quiet stretch of dock overlooking the sleeping port, she turned into him. Slowly. Completely. Her hands slid up his chest in a featherlight caress, her palms flattening over the warmth beneath his jacket and over his shirt before gliding up, up, until her arms circled his neck. She leaned into him, her body aligning with his effortlessly, like it had been waiting to fit there.

And the smile she shone at him then was perfectly incandescent, the kind she rarely gave anyone.

Those tawny hazel eyes traveled across every line of his face; from the sharp cut of his jaw, the unruly dark hair brushing his brow, the curve of his lips that she was increasingly tempted to steal another kiss from as she leaned close enough to feel his breath against her skin.

Close enough that he would think she might kiss him.

Instead, Sibylla gave a quiet laugh, shaking her head with disbelief and fondness braided together.

"There is no possible way," she declared with another light laugh, her shoulders shaking in amusement, "that you are able to walk these streets unrecognized."

She eased back just enough to take him in, tawny hazel eyes trailing down and up again, savoring him in moonlight. Indeed, even without any Veruna or Chancellor insignia, there was no denying the sheer presence Aurelian radiated regardless of what he wore.

"You are far too striking to blend in. Even like this." Her smile curved into something playful as she added, "Actually, come to think of it…"

As her admiring gaze flicked deliberately to his dark clothes, the undone collar, the attitude he wore like second nature.

"You have the dark, handsome, scoundrel rakish look mastered well enough to draw a few stares." She tilted her head, brushing one hand through the stray lock of hair he could never quite keep tamed, her fingers lingering there, lightly curled in his hair.

"Though if you truly wish to go unnoticed," she whispered with a teasing lift of her brows, "perhaps you ought to stop looking at me like that."

Because in this moment, with the waves murmuring below them, the city quieting behind them, and Aurelian Veruna standing so close she could feel his heartbeat, there was no hiding him at all.

Not from her.

"So then, Marcus…" she murmured with a soft and amused provocative tone as her grin widened, "if you intend to sweep me into another legendary escapade tonight… I am entirely at your mercy."

And unless he pulled her in first, she lingered there, hovering with a smile that was equal parts invitation and challenge.

A perfect reflection of the woman who had somehow met every one of his storms and refused to flinch.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: I want to know everything about you.
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian didn't answer right away. Her laugh, bright and unrestrained, rolled out and hit him with a force he hadn't expected. It warmed him to the bones, loosening something tight inside his chest. Shiraya was beautiful when she laughed like that. It made the whole world feel softer.

When she said she was glad he'd found Tona too, a gentler expression crossed his features. "So am I," he murmured, his thumb brushing over her knuckles again as they walked. "I might not have survived long enough to be here otherwise. She's dragged me out of trouble so many times I should probably have a shrine to her somewhere." A grin curled. "Not that I ever will. I'm far too pretty to worship anyone."

Her shoulder bumped his, her quip about him forgetting to breathe earning a soft huff of laughter. "Is that what I do? Forget to breathe?" He tapped his chest with his free hand, as if affronted. "I'll have you know I am perfectly capable of breathing while irritating the entire Senate. I multitask." But warmth tugged up the corner of his mouth, a quiet fondness that threaded through the teasing.

Yet when she leaned her head against his arm and whispered about losing composure over one maddeningly charming troublemaker, something in him tightened, a sweet, sharp feeling. "Careful," he warned softly, leaning closer until his lips nearly brushed her temple. "You keep calling me charming and I might start acting out."

He never got the chance to quip further. She stopped, turning into him fully.

Her hands slid up his chest, slow and light as a gasp. Aurelian felt his breath punch out of him as if she'd reached inside and stolen it straight from his lungs. Every place her fingers touched burned. His muscles locked, holding himself still and steady, not to push her away, but so she could do whatever she wanted.

When her arms rose to circle his neck, his hands lifted instinctively. One settled along her waist, the other slid to the small of her back, holding her as if gravity itself had finally, mercifully, chosen sides.

And then she smiled. Stars, that smile. Incandescent, tender, and devastating. Aurelian's heart thudded painfully against his ribs, an ache that felt holy.

He let out a low, helpless laugh when she teased him about being recognizable. "Oh trust me," he murmured, shaking his head with that crooked grin, "they know exactly who I am." His fingers brushed the curve of her hip, his thumb tracing the fabric of her coat. "But Parrlay's a working-class city. They don't care about titles. Never have. You grow up down here, you earn respect by how you treat people, not by who your father was."

He tilted his head, watching the moonlight flicker across her hair. "I've walked these streets all my life. To them, I'm may as well be just Marcus. And as long as I do right by them, they let me… be myself." His voice softened, threaded with something deeper. "And make no mistake, I love them. This place. They made me long before any crown did."

Then he slid his hand up her back, pulling her flush against him, his voice dipping into something low and warm. "But I'll admit," he murmured, "they might raise a few eyebrows at their Prince wandering the docks with a woman this beautiful. Especially if they catch the way I look at you."

His forehead touched hers. They shared a breath, heat humming between them.

"Utterly captivated," he said quietly. "That rumor would spread fast."

Her final line, her teasing surrender, was the last push against his already shredded restraint. "My mercy?" he echoed, a low laugh in his throat.

He pulled her in fully and kissed her. This was not like before, not soft or hesitant. This one was hungry, deep, his hand sliding into her hair while the other held her waist tight against him. He kissed her until the world blurred, until the whisper of the tide and the creak of the docks were distant things, until the only real thing left was her, in his arms, in his breath, filling his chest.

And then, with a grin he couldn't hide, he bent and swept her clean off her feet.

He carried her down the last stretch of dock, her weight easy in his arms, her laughter warm against his throat. At the very end, he set her gently on the wooden planks and sat beside her, pulling her between his legs so her back rested against his chest. The moon hung full above them, bright enough to turn the water into liquid silver.

His arms wrapped around her waist, holding her close, chin brushing her shoulder.

"You've seen my home," he murmured into her ear, his voice low and sincere. "But I want to see yours too. Dee'ja Peak. I want to know everything about where you came from."

He pressed a slow kiss to her shoulder.

"I want to know everything about you."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: I want to spend more time with you.
Aurelian Veruna

Unfair hardly covered it.

One low, throaty laugh from him and Sibylla's knees nearly buckled. She felt her pulse trip and heat rush up her neck, feeling every inch of her lit with the heady thrill of knowing she had caused that sound, that her touch affected him just as sharply as his affected her.

Then he spoke of Parrlay and being seen as Marcus -- not a Veruna, not an heir, not a weapon forged by his father. A place that had treated him with respect earned by his own merits when so few ever had. It made her want to thank this city for giving him what so much of his life had denied.

She opened her mouth to say so, but whatever thought she had vanished because then, Shiraya, the way he kissed her.

It wasn't gentle. It wasn't careful. It was hungry and claiming, every point of contact seeming to spark through her skin like fire catching on kindling. From the way his fingers slid into her hair, how he held her firmly, and to the soft sound that escaped her throat that was quickly swallowed against his mouth as she melted into him.

He tasted like ale and heat and something distinctly, devastatingly him. And by the time he broke the kiss, she had a flustered blush burning her face scarlet, leaving her utterly speechless and her mind blank save for the very breath of him. It took him sweeping her into his firm arms to finally break the spell, Sibylla curling herself instinctively against him as he carried her down the moonlit dock, her laughter breathlessly fanning into the curve of his neck.

"You -- you cannot just -- warn a woman next time," she stammered, half laughing and half breathless against his skin.

But they both knew she didn't mean it; she'd enjoyed him acting out too much.

By the time he settled with her at the end of the pier, her back nestled against his chest and his arms wrapped securely around her waist, Sibylla felt warm, light, and utterly safe in his arms. Each slow breath he exhaled sent a soft shiver down her spine, drawing her to melt into him without hesitation.

Another throaty chuckle, and Sibyla brought her right hand up, her fingers sliding up to cup his face. The pad of her thumb brushed the line of his jaw, and she turned just enough to nuzzle the rough stubble at his cheek with her nose in a soft, affectionate gesture she didn't even realize she was capable of giving.

This was new. Terrifyingly new. And utterly intoxicating, because he held her like she was something precious. Something wanted. Something chosen. Not a political ally. Not the Interim Queen. Not a target of his father's old feud.

Just Sibylla. Just the woman he was holding.

"I would like that," she murmured in a husky, warm voice threaded with vulnerable honesty at wanting him to see her home. The corners of her mouth softly curved upward, the press of his kiss upon her shoulder unconsciously making her tip her head to allow him better access.

"Not just visits," she went on softly. "But spend actual time with you... and not at the mercy of our schedules." Perhaps that was asking too much, what with their duties and responsibilities, not to mention the logistics given the chaos around them... but she wanted to be able to do so. Spend more time with him. Learn more about him. See him in places where he didn't need to feel as if he had to be Aurelian Veruna, but just himself... with her.

Her lips perked in mild amusement at his request to learn more of her, and Sibylla twisted slightly so she could look back at him, those tawny hazel eyes staring into his with teasing heat.

"Oh? You mean you do not already know everything about me?" She arched a delicate brow. "With your reach, I would have expected an entire dossier."

But before he could twist the tease into something that made her blush harder, she added with a genuine invitation that softened her features.

"Come with me to Dee'ja Peak," she asked quietly, "During Winter Fete."

And while her gaze drifted out across the water, her fingers still traced idle, slow strokes against his cheek.

"I will take you to my favorite places. Not just the city, but the mountains." She began, her voice continuing to soften as she reminisced, "I grew up in them. Running after my brothers… hiding from them just as often. I know every ridge, every trail."

She gave a wry smile as a slight sea breeze rustled both of their hair.

"There is a waterfall," she continued. "If you climb the rock just right, you can slip behind it into a little cave hidden under the spray..." a pause and then she added, "And on the west side of the Peak…" Her breath caught with the memory.

"If you sit there at just the right moment when the sun hits the falls perfectly… the water turns into liquid molten orange," she murmured in a hushed reverent tone, "It looks like a river of fire pouring down the cliffside."

She turned again in his arms, looking up at him with a soft, earnest smile.

"I would love for you to see it with me."

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: They probably hate me
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian went still, struck with a quiet, unguarded wonder, as Sibylla spoke of Dee'ja Peak and waterfalls that turned to fire in the sun. Her voice carried the kind of reverence people only ever used when speaking of places that shaped them, stitching themselves into their bones. He listened with his chin resting lightly against her shoulder, his breathing syncing unconsciously with hers as the tide whispered around the pilings beneath them.

When she finished and turned those warm eyes up toward him, he felt a steady flame settle low in his chest. He slid his hands along her waist, fingertips brushing a slow, thoughtful path before one hand lifted to cradle the side of her face. "I would love to see it," he murmured, his voice softer than he meant, and he pressed a kiss just below her ear. "The mountains, the trails, the places you ran wild and the places where you hid. All of it. With you."

Then he tipped his head slightly, lips ghosting her jaw as his words dipped into something playful again. "And for the record," he drawled, "you can spend as much time with me as you want. All you need to do is ask. Or show up. Or breathe near my office; that usually works."

"As for a dossier," he added with a slow, wicked smile, "yes. I have one." He watched her eyes narrow with amused accusation, and his grin deepened. "But it only covers your work. Your service record. Your political alliances. Your public statements." His voice dropped, low and warm. "Nothing interesting."

The hand at her waist moved, sliding up to her shoulder. He leaned down and pressed a slow kiss to the place where her skin met fabric, lips lingering with gentle intent. "I want to know the unprofessional things," he murmured against her skin. "The things no report would ever catch, only you would tell me. What you dreamed about as a child. Whether you hated or adored the snow. Who your first crush was. Why you braid your hair differently on days you're anxious." His teeth grazed the curve of her shoulder in a playful nip. "Everything the Senate will never have clearance for." He smirked into her skin. "Those are the secrets I want."

He let the silence sit a moment, comfortable, warm, wrapped in the hush of waves and the crisp bite of the sea breeze. But then something tugged at him, quieter, heavier, and Aurelian's teasing eased into stillness. He adjusted just enough to see her face, his thumb brushing her cheek with a gentleness that betrayed the seriousness gathering behind his eyes.

"What about..." he murmured, voice lower than before. "Your family." She blinked, surprised by the shift in tone. "Do you think they'll approve of this?" he asked. "Of… us?"

He exhaled through his nose, gaze drifting briefly to the dark water before returning to hers. "I know Cassian won't. He barely tolerates me as it is." A faint, wry curl of his lips. "Elian will." But then his expression sobered again, the weight of the question settling fully.

"Your father. Your mother." The quiet between them grew tight, uncertain. "I haven't exactly been… diplomatic… about the Abrantes' in the past." He looked away for a heartbeat, jaw tightening with something rawer than anger. Regret, maybe. Recognition of the bloodline politics that had shaped so much of both their lives. "I would understand," he said quietly, "if they hate me."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: There is no changing that.
Aurelian Veruna

Warmth bloomed in Sibylla's chest when Aurelian said he would love to see Dee'ja Peak with her. The smile that rose on her lips lit her whole face with grateful, warm joy, the apples of her cheeks full beneath the gentle cradle of his hand.

At least until Aurelian made it his personal mission to test her focusing abilities.

It began innocently enough: a soft brush of his lips along her shoulder as he murmured about wanting to see her home. Dizzying enough on its own, but then his mouth found the spot beneath her ear, and her heart skipped a beat. From that moment, it was a playful, gentle trail of kisses as he spoke, the kind that sent shivers running down her spine and made her breath hitch. All the while, he murmured that she could spend as much time with him as she wanted. All she had to do was ask. Or show up. Or breathe near his office -- Oh Shiraya, breathing in deep as tickling goosebumps went skittering over her skin.

"You are doing that on purpose." The low, wry accusation drifted between them. Of course, his grin grazed her collar as if to confirm it.

He only grew more wickedly mischievous when he inquired to learn all the unprofessional secrets no dossier would ever hold. Childhood dreams. First crush. The braid she wore when she was anxious. How did he even know that? Yet all thoughts scattered at the playful nip and her fingers curled at his jaw, nails lightly dragging over his stubble as another sharp breath turned into an exasperated chuckle.

Aurelian was teasing her and he absolutely knew it.

"Well..." she managed breathlessly, "I finally understand how you get people to divulge information so easily. If this is your charming method, no wonder you are so successful." She lifted her chin, trying for wry if amused dignity and almost managing it.

"But if I am to trade unprofessional secrets, I expect one back. Is this the difference between professional and unprofessional Marcus? Or..." He smirked against her skin again, "-- Or is this simply you acting out?"

Laughter and teasing faded into a quieter but comfortable stillness. At least until he turned to look at her face and the teasing expression shifted. There was something serious there. Something vulnerable. Concern and surprise illuminated her face as she saw him hesitate only a moment before asking what her family would think of him. Would they give their approval? Would they hate him? The feud. How he acted in the past...and it made her heart ache as much as smile that he was considering this. That meant something; that he was thinking of them seriously, not just as a passing whim.

With a soft, empathetic smile, Sibylla adjusted herself until she could properly face him better, adjusting her hands so she could cradle his face and coax him to return this gaze from the sea back to her.

"Aurelian," she began quietly, and this time she did not use his middle name to ground him to her. "You may not believe me, but Cassian does not hate you... certainly, he cannot stand you most days, true, but that is not the same. I think I finally understand that the two of you will simply never get along." Her expression softened, even as her thumbs gently caressed the sharp angles of his cheeks. "Still, I hope the two of you can work together... and please, no more fights that nearly kill either of you. I cannot bear seeing that again."

The memory made her take a slow breath.

"As for Elian," she said with a wry smile as much as exasperation, "he already looks up to you. Whether that is recklessness or recognition, I have not decided. You both certainly seem to have more things in common...and I am glad that he trusts you enough to come to you for advice and assistance. I think that shows he doesn't care about your name at all, but who you are."

Another deep breath, and then she continued.

"And my father... he is suspicious of any Royal House, especially after an assassination attempt on his daughter, which is understandable. But when I spoke to him about stepping back from the throne and supporting you instead, he did not disapprove. Cautious, yes. But not against you. In fact, he has already been asking more about you."

Her cheeks warmed, remembering how fiercely she had defended Aurelian back at the vineyard regarding the matter and her father's quiet, contemplative amusement. To think that conversation had revealed far more regarding her own assumptions and expectations that she believed her father had of her, that were in fact completely unwarranted.

"The feud was always more nuisance than danger. I rarely heard the name Veruna unless it was in trade negotiations or in reference to your father. My mother spoke more of your mother's art collection, and never with hatred. And Cassian only invoked your name when you provoked him." Her brows lifted. "Which you did in every opportunity you found."

There was no denying that, but it was what it was. With a soft sigh, she eased closer, her fingertips coming up to brush his curls back from his eyes. Such beautiful eyes. Eyes that undid her just by looking at her.

That made her feel such a contradiction of emotions that was equally exasperating as it was thrilling. As comfortable and warm in his arms as much as breathless and alive with his touch. As challenged and driven by his mind and his words.

"And after everything... it was Cassian who told me on the flight home from Kenari that if I love you and I am happy, then that is all that matters to him."

Her thumbs stroked along his cheekbones in a tender and sure caress.

"I do not know where this will lead us, or whether our families will approve, or how this will work when you return as King and I as your Voice.... but I do know that what I feel for you is real."

The sea breeze stirred her hair as she leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. When she pulled back, she rested her forehead against his, her smile brushing against his mouth.

"I love you, Aurelian," she whispered. "There is no changing that."

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: You love... me?
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian answered her kiss with a soft, low sound. It was caught somewhere between relief and disbelief. When she pulled back and said I love you, his breath actually stuttered, the words hitting him harder than any fist Cassian had ever swung at his head. But of course, the first thing out of his mouth was a quiet, disbelieving laugh.

"You're right," he murmured, brushing his thumb along her lower lip, eyes gleaming. "I don't believe you. About Cassian, that is." His smile turned crooked, laced with dry amusement. "Our feud is older than the wine in my family cellars. Rival houses, adolescent stupidity, too much pride. We were doomed the moment we learned each other's names." He dipped his forehead to hers, voice warm. "But for you? I'll keep my composure. I'll even try not to throw him into anything dangerous. Intentionally anyway."

He kissed her cheek, then her jaw, and then the soft line beneath her ear as she continued speaking; about Elian, her father, her mother. Each word eased a tension he hadn't realized he'd carried since childhood. Someone, somewhere, always hated a Veruna. That was just nature. But she spoke of her family with quiet certainty, and something in him loosened. "Your brother looking up to me is a terrible idea," he murmured against her neck, grinning. "But I like it. Don't tell him."

When she stroked his curls back from his face, he leaned into the touch without thinking. At her final admission, if I love you and I am happy, that is all that matters, he exhaled a soft, disbelieving sound.

His hands tightened around her waist, drawing her closer as a wicked smile overtook his face. "Oh?" he breathed, lips brushing hers. "You… love me?" The teasing was inevitable. Shiraya would strike him down if he didn't take advantage of this. He kissed the corner of her mouth, then her jaw. "Well," he murmured, voice dropping, "that certainly explains why you keep touching me like I'm your favorite secret. It explains a lot actually." Another kiss, lower, stealing her breath. "Say it again," he whispered. "I want to hear..."

He cut himself off with a sudden shift, straightening, excitement sparking bright in his eyes. "Dee'ja Peak," he said. "Soon. Not for politics. Not for the Senate. I want to meet your family properly. Sit with them. Eat with them. Give them something better than rumors and titles." His fingers traced her cheek, tender in a way he rarely let anyone see. "Let them see the man I am with you. The one no one else ever gets." He kissed her again, deeper, slower, and when he pulled back, he whispered the first half of the words she'd given him. "I love y--"

"There you are!" The voice snapped across the pier like a blade.

Aurelian's body went rigid. In a single motion he stood, pulling Sibylla behind him as three figures approached out of the shadows: rough clothes, rough posture, rough eyes. And they definitely were not Parrlay dockhands. He didn't recognize any of them. They grinned like men who already knew the ending.

"Enjoying the evening?" one drawled. Aurelian's voice dropped to steel. "You're not locals."

"Farstine," the middle one replied. And before he could reach for her hand, all three lunged.

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: Do whatever it takes to survive.
Aurelian Veruna

Aurelian's joy was infectious. Silly, warm, ridiculous in a way that made Sibylla's heart melt, even as she pretended to be affronted by his teasing. She could still feel where those playful kisses had brushed her cheeks, the heat glowing there as if he had branded her. Shiraya, she could drown in moments like this. And the way he lit up at the idea of Dee'ja Peak, of meeting her family, of being seen as himself was just too infectious not to laugh along with him.

Oh, and when he kissed her again, it made the world fade away as she leaned into him completely, one hand in his curls, the other at his jaw, already breathlessly anticipating the words he was about to finally say --

"There you are!"

And the moment that rough voice cut across the pier, everything inside Sibylla snapped tight.

She jerked her head towards the sound even as Aurelian pulled her up and behind him so fast her breath caught. Three men stepped from the shadows at the end of the pier, and she didn't have to be a Force user to understand that they meant them both deadly harm. Dread spiked... but infuriated aggravation rose quicker. Really, these fools had to interrupt this moment?

Instinct drove her to snap her hand to her personal shield generator, the blue white field surging to life with a hot crackle over her slim figure. She barely heard them utter with a feral smirk, Farstine, when they all attacked.

The first thug lunged at Aurelian, swinging a heavy pipe intending to crack it against his head. Aurelian stepped into the blow instead of away from it, letting it graze his shoulder as he slammed his elbow into the man's throat. Sibylla hadn't seen him fight before; only arrived after the fact, and the stories said that he had fought without giving Cassian any quarter. Now she saw it live, not the noble draped in velvets and charm, but the soldier he used to be. This was the boy from Parrlay and Rainspire who learned to survive with grit.

Dirty, efficient, ruthless.

Sibylla didn't have time to gawk because the second thug came straight for her. Big. Fast. His fist slammed into her shield with a crack of blue-white light, shoving her back across the slick planks. The pain lanced through her ribs, and she gave a winded grunt, but the field held. Keep moving, she told herself, so she pivoted lightly on her feet as her hand already moved to draw her vibroknife from her hip with a telltale hum.

Then thug lunged again.

Sibylla dodged right, intending to slip under his reach -- but the bastard was quicker than she expected for his size. Thick, fat fingers tangled in her hair, and he yanked Sibylla's head enough to burst stars across her vision, ripping a painful gasp from her mouth.

"Oh, you think you're quick, luv," he spat out with her with sour breath as he jerked her head up, hazel eyes flashing fire. His grip tightened in the thick chestnut waves until her scalp burned and Sibylla gave a yelp.

"Pretty too. Gonna enjoy yo -- ARGH!" The Farstine rat's words broke into a howl as Sibylla rammed her vibroknife into his side. She didn't know how deep it went, but the wet sound told her it was enough. He twisted violently, flinging her to the side as he clutched at the hilt now buried in his belly.

Aurelian's words echoed from earlier -- Use what they see. Always.

"Karkin' b'itch stabbed me!" he bellowed as he staggered, arched forward as he looked at the stain of blood now pooling from the injury.

The moment his hand left her hair, Sibylla ignored the pain as fury and adrenaline fueled her movements, grabbing at the thug's hair in retribution to tug down as her knee drove straight up into his nose.

Never gloat while your opponent's still breathing.

The resulting crunch was sickening as he went down bellowing, and Sibylla staggered from the pain shooting up her leg, cursing under her breath.

But there was no time to spare as a shadow moved behind her.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Rage can be good sometimes
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian's world narrowed to the sickening sound of Sibylla being grabbed. The thug's words vanished, replaced by a raw, explosive fury within him. The pier, the sting in his shoulder, it all receded. Only the primal, burning edge of rage remained.

The man facing him swung again, the pipe aimed for Aurelian's head. This time, Aurelian didn't evade. He snapped his shield to life. A blue, crackling field erupted around him, deflecting the pipe with a shower of sparks. He was already in motion.

Stepping forward, Aurelian seized the thug's wrist, twisting until a sickening pop echoed. The man's scream was cut short as Aurelian drove his knee into his gut, folding him over. Before the thug could even fall, Aurelian drew the short blade from his belt. Hooking an arm behind the man's neck, he dragged the knife across his throat in a savage, brutal cut. Warm blood sprayed into the air as the man crumpled to the planks at Aurelian's feet.

He didn't spare the fallen thug a glance. Sibylla gasped, a sharp cry of pain. His heart hammered against his ribs, a desperate rhythm. He spun around, a silent snarl baring his teeth. Sibylla's shield was failing, her hair clutched in some bastard's hand. She drove her knee into his face, a beautiful, vicious act. As he reeled, another shadow came up behind her, knife raised.

Aurelian didn't think. The second blade was in his hand before the first body even hit the wood. He threw it. The knife sliced past Sibylla's ear, a whisper of displaced air, burying itself in the throat of the man behind her with a sickening thud. The thug clawed at the hilt jutting from his windpipe, gurgling until he fell silent. The pier fell into a brief, quiet.

Only the last thug remained, the one Sibylla had wounded. He choked and cursed through blood, staggering as he tried to reach her again.

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: Do you need him for questioning?
Aurelian Veruna

The whisper of air was the only warning Sibylla felt.

Something sliced past her cheek so close it brushed her skin. She flinched on instinct, her breath catching hard in her throat an instant before a wet, choking sound erupted behind her. She spun just in time to see Aurelian's thrown blade buried in the throat of the thug who had been raising a knife to her back.

There was no time to think, her heart slamming in her chest and breathing ragged, swinging her head back to barely register Aurelian moving forward -- thank Shiraya he was okay -- but her attention locked onto the last Farstine brute she'd just kneed in front of her. He was still bleeding from where she'd stabbed him, nose crushed, crooked from her knee. Yet somehow he kept coming, fury and pain twisted his face into a ferocious scowl.

He lurched for her again with a growl, but this time she was ready.

Sibylla dropped low, sweeping her leg behind his ankles in a clean, practiced arc. The boot of her heel hooked, clipped, and swept over the wet wood, the thug's weight going out from under him and sending him crashing onto his back, the breath knocked out of him in a bloody, strangled yelp.

She didn't stop.

Before he could scramble up, Sibylla planted her knee beside his ribs and reached for the hilt of her vibroknife still lodged in his abdomen. She yanked it free in a single, efficient pull, hot blood splattering across her forearm and cheek.

The man screamed, tried to roll, but she pressed the blade to his throat, forcing him still.

"Stay down," she warned with a low hiss, chest heaving and her heart thundering, but her expression was anything but merciful. Cold, determined anger carved her beautiful, blood-splattered face.

The Farstine thug froze beneath her as his breath rattled, one hand raised in a pitiful attempt at surrender while the other clutched at his bleeding injury.

Sibylla didn't look at Aurelian. She didn't dare. Instead, she kept her blade at the man's throat, the full span of her attention on the man beneath her knee, his breath rattling wet through broken cartilage. Blood ran down from his crushed nose, staining his teeth red. One hand clamped desperately over the open wound she'd carved into his belly, the other half-raised in a trembling, useless attempt at surrender.

"Do you need him alive for questioning?" Sibylla asked in a cool, clipped, and controlled tone despite the hammering in her chest and the heavy breaths.

The thug shifted. That was a mistake.

Sibylla pressed the vibroknife closer to his throat. The hum of it deepened, vibrating against his skin as a line of red broke his skin.

"Move again," she warned, "and you won't get a second choice."