Private Just Live With It

[Kirie]

​

JUST LIVE WITH IT
Kirie & Quinn,
Jutrand
After The Coiling Lash

One could not have asked for a more terrible Jutrand morning. The wind was blowing the wrong direction, bringing with it the scent of industry that refused to clear, weighed down as it was by the incessant rain that drummed against every surface in rippling sheets. The rain fell from a blanket of thick cloud that rumbled with the promise of further storms, scudding along quickly, driven by the wind which howled incessantly through each nook and cranny, making structures groan and picking up a layer of loose debris that cartwheeled through the air.

Still, Kirie couldn't be happier to see it. She sat by the great bay window in the second floor drawing room, pressed against the cushioned side of the bench seat that had been placed over the sill. Her sketch pad was balanced over her knee, the half formed shape of the gloomy skyline emerging from the scratchy pencil strokes.

Kirie had been up since the early morning, still struggling to sleep since returning from her ordeal with the Kainites. Even with the knowledge that she was officially free from them, the event had left its mark. Kirie's memories were muddled, her voice was gone, and she was still left with the terrifying feeling that there were still assailants waiting in the shadows to grab her. Nobody wanted her anymore save Quinn, and though that was a comforting thought, she was still wary, and watchful, and jumpy. The little box that the doctors had strapped to her arm, delivering a cocktail of calming drugs, that had helped. Blunted the horror she felt into spikes of anxiety, the deep melancholy into only dullness. And with it, she was able to focus on the happy things, like how she was home.

Her ears picked up the sound of rustling sheets in the next room. A sure sign that Quinn had woken up and was searching for her. Kirie had wanted to stay in the bed so as not to worry her love, but after a few hours of staring at the outlines of the cornices above her had driven her to rise. Upon hearing Quinn stirring, Kirie hurriedly pushed aside her drawing materials and rose, running to the bedroom on her tiptoes. As she passed through the door she tried to slide on her bedsocks, as had become habit, but her feet caught on the floor and she stumbled ungracefully, bumping against the foot of the bed and shaking the curtain of white hair that half obscured the beautiful woman staring up at her.

'Nobody's waxed the floors since I've been gone!' Kirie complained. A tiny protocol droid had appeared by her shoulder, a constant companion since she was still brushing up on the Outer Rim Sign Language she'd learned as a girl. The droid pumped out a decent approximation of her old voice alongside a few cheery chirps and beeps Kirie took for agreement.

'Sorry, not important- good morning.' The cheeriness had started off forced, but her face turned up in a genuine grin when she saw Quinn huddled in the bed, still blearily blinking up at her.

Wasting no time, Kirie clambered up onto the bed and into Quinn's arms, burrowing back into the soft pillowy covers, enjoying feeling her squirm as her chilly skin stole the Echani's warmth. This was where she was meant to be, almost hidden beneath the covers, tucked in the crook of Quinn's arm. Not out on a battlefield somewhere, or a work camp, or a lab. Her place was here, with Quinn. The two of them together.

For the first time since before her capture, Kirie felt lucky again. Lucky to be home, lucky to have Quinn by her side, to still have some semblance of a life to control and call her own. Lucky to be free, at least for now.

'I missed you.' Kirie's lips formed the words, her fingers made the signs, and the droid repeated it quietly. A triple echo. She tilted her head and laid a tender kiss upon Quinn's cheek.

Kirie's stomach rumbled loudly, spoiling the moment, and she giggled silently.

'Come on my lazy princess' she signed, tugging on Quinn's arm to get her moving. 'I'm hungry.'

Quinn Varanin ​

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Kirie //:

Dreams were the only place Quinn had been able to see Kirie. She focused hard on them, hoping that through the Force she'd be able to find where the girl had been taken. Her dreams were the only place she could hear the Weikian's voice call out to her, feel the warmth of her fingertips, and the calm in her embrace.

Dreams were all Quinn had for some time.

Jutrand was never known for her lovely mornings, but it was hard to beat what she remembered of Eshan. Often, she would visit and lie in bed until the sun cracked through the silken curtains her sister had picked out for the palace. They were a gaudy grey color, but Quinn didn't complain too loudly. Noelle was the Queen, and her word was law.

Still, Quinn preferred a more icy blue.

Slowly, the Princess opened her eyes and realized she was alone. A wave of sadness swept through her; for a moment, she feared Kirie's return had only been another dream. Reaching out, she touched the sheets, still faintly warm. It made Quinn wonder just how much of her current reality was still wrapped in illusion.

Quinn sat up, resting on her elbows as she looked around the room. She hadn't seen Kirie…yet.

Just as Quinn went to call for the woman, she came in, instead of sliding, Kirie tumbled and caught the edge of the large bed. Quinn sat up and brushed aside the ashen hair from her face. It was the sudden realization that her hair had grown longer than she usually kept it, but a lot of things, along with the house, had gone awry.

Her thoughts were silenced, though, the moment Kirie clamored into bed and began to absorb the warmth she had created under the silken sheets. Having Kirie home made the galaxy not so scary or too big for the Echani. It had been a long time since Quinn had felt that kind of safety. Even in rooms full of people, the Princess often felt alone. To most, she was just a symbol something to be admired, displayed, or possessed.

But with Kirie, it was different. She felt seen. Not as a title, or a trophy, but as herself, fragile, honest, and still worthy of love. The handmaiden had looked past the trauma, the opulence, the walls Quinn had built. And she had stayed.

A quiet, mischievous smile crept across the Princess's porcelain face at the tug she felt under the covers. Instead of slipping out of bed, Quinn saw an opportunity too tempting to pass up. With ease, she shifted their weight and rolled to pin Kirie against the soft mattress. Hovering above her, Quinn's white hair fell like a curtain, catching the morning light in soft streaks.

She studied the girl beneath her. Kirie was exactly the same, except for the painful absence of her voice. A temporary loss, Quinn hoped. One she had sworn to restore.

She longed to hear her name spoken again—from her lips.

"I missed you, too." Quinn finally spoke, her voice quiet as she leaned down and brushed her lips gently against the Weikian's. A gentle hand cupped the handmaiden's face as the Princess' thumb caressed gently against her cheek.

The kiss was deep, but brief, knowing that if she allowed herself to continue, the pair wouldn't make it to breakfast. Leaning back, only after pressing her lips on Kirie's forehead, Quinn began to climb out of bed.

"Did you tell the kitchen what you wanted," she asked while glancing toward her vanity, "or am I cooking for you again today?"

Noticing her reflection, Quinn frowned and threaded her fingers through the length of her hair. It had grown far too much. She couldn't decide whether to accept it or cut it off entirely.

"You weren't in bed this morning," she added, turning her head back toward Kirie. "What were you up to?"

 

[Kirie]

'Tucked in beside Quinn, Kirie gazed up at the ceiling admiring the way the wall panelling met the decorative stone ceiling, how the dark curtains were like secure walls keeping the wild weather out, how their bed was a sanctuary, distant from the evils of the world outside. It reminded her of how she had stared up at the ceiling in the old house, the night she'd arrived on Jutrand, only now it was hers to share with Quinn.

Her life had changed so much since then. Many would say she had been damaged, many had. And it was true that Kirie had suffered greatly in the year or so she had spent amongst the Sith. Kirie had been changed by her ordeal, yes, and she still carried it with her. But she had also grown, carved out a life here. She was grateful for that. She wanted to protect it.

The whole time Kirie had been musing, Quinn had failed to respond to her insistent tugs on her arm, remaining rooted in bed, but the moment Kirie looked back down at her, Quinn exploded into action, flipping Kirie over with the confident, persistent strength that had become so familiar to her. Still it caught her by surprise, eliciting a small gasp as she was pressed down into the bed. She was wearing that mischievous look, and Kirie readied herself for the barrage of kisses and teasing that would follow, but instead Quinn's expression changed. She looked contemplative, even sad, and Kirie wondered what she was thinking about.

"I missed you, too."

Then the kiss came, and Kirie closed her misty eyes to receive it. Long, and slow, and deeply needed. It broke too soon, but Kirie was glad, knowing she couldn't resist another. She was still fragile, and needed things to be slow and gentle, as much as she might want otherwise.

And she still really wanted breakfast...

'Well.' Kirie signed, 'I told them to make sure it was stocked.' Meaning, she wanted Quinn to cook for her. She felt a little bad about it, since Quinn was used to being waited upon hand and foot, and if anything, the roles were usually reversed, with Kirie cooking up some greasy breakfast food or a simple morning dish from Weik that she shared with Quinn. But, the Princess was a better cook than she let on, at least when it came to eggs on toast, and Kirie wanted to feel comforted. She smiled shyly, not used to asking for such things. 'But, I'll help you in the kitchen. Team effort.'

Kirie noticed the way Quinn was tugging at the long strands of her pearlescent hair. Her own hands moved up to touch it too, to admire its fine length, its perfect evenness with nary a split end. It had grown longer than she'd seen it before, and though the expression on Quinn's face, and the ripples she was only beginning to sense through their connection, Kirie could see something about it was bothering her.

'It looks like you're ready for a change.' Kirie signed, her hand coming to rest gently on Quinn's upper back, enjoying the lingering warmth of the bed radiating off her. 'That's okay. Change is good.'

"You weren't in bed this morning, What were you up to?"

'Sketching.' Kirie signed, ducking out to retrieve the sketch pad to show Quinn. 'Or, trying to. Jutrand doesn't make for a very pretty model.'

Quinn Varanin ​

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Kirie //:

Kirie's answer about the state of the pantry made Quinn smile as she looked at the girl through the mirror. As much as she enjoyed having her every desire and whim cared for, taking care of Kirie had been fulfilling in a way nothing else was.

Still, no matter how much she did, there would never be enough to let Quinn forgive herself for what happened.

Her gaze dropped away from Kirie's reflection, suddenly feeling unworthy to look at her. The one thing Quinn had promised was protection. Instead, Kirie had been taken, and Quinn was afraid to ask what horrors she had faced. She tried to smile as Kirie came up behind her, but knowing that it had been Lirka Ka who rescued her, not Quinn, hollowed her out.

The subject shifted—thankfully—to her hair. Quinn allowed herself a soft smile as Kirie drew close again. There was just something about her. Being near her always lightened the burden of being Quinn Varanin.

Tilting her head, she studied the strands of white hair that now curled gently inward. It had become slightly longer than she usually kept it.

"Mm," she contemplated. "I think I need to keep it. Mama's always wanted my hair long again."

She remembered first arriving on Bastion with it cropped short, something she had demanded the moment she could speak. It set her apart from Noelle. People stopped confusing them. For the first time, Quinn felt seen.

Of course, it hadn't been enough. She would always be the youngest of the three Varanin daughters.

"I'm kind of liking it," she added, her eyes flicking to Kirie's reflection, watching for any hint of displeasure.

She never wanted to give the Weikian a reason to look away. Everything she did—from how she dressed to how she fought—was to keep Kirie's attention on her.

It was a foolish thing to cling to, but the thought alone was enough to shatter her.

Her hand dropped from her hair as she reached for the brush, running it through in careful strokes. It didn't take long for her to finish. A simple button-up shirt and loose, comfortable pants would do, there wasn't much planned for the day. Kirie was still regaining her strength.

Quinn ached for more, craved to be close, to make up for lost time, but Kirie's health outweighed every other desire.

Once dressed, she reached for her signature lipstick, staining her lips in the familiar deep red. She pressed them together, smiled faintly, and dropped the tube onto the vanity. At this time Kirie had brought her sketchbook. Quinn took a moment and glanced at the cityscape she had started. Smiling, she leaned and kissed the girl on the cheek.

"We should go somewhere nice, give you something beautiful to draw that isn't Jutrand."

Then she leaned into Kirie, an arm snaking around the shorter woman. Their fingers laced together as Quinn led her down the hallway toward the kitchen. Her smile widened as their footsteps began to fall in step with each other.

"Well," she mused, giving Kirie's hand a slight squeeze, "Since the pantry's fully stocked, we could really have anything."

She tightened her hold for a moment, just to be sure Kirie was real.

"We've had waffles, pancakes, Bantha steaks and eggs, umm…" Quinn trailed off, thinking as she released Kirie's hand and moved toward the pantry. She bent slightly to search through the shelves of newly stocked ingredients.

"Oh! We haven't had a blue milk quiche in a while."

She gathered a few potatoes and placed them on the counter, smiling.

"You promised to help me," she said sweetly, "Could you wash the potatoes, my love?"

Her back turned, fully expecting Kirie to leap at the chance. Quinn moved to the fridge and began pulling out ingredients. It didn't take long, everything was neatly arranged, and Quinn set the items out in order on the counter. As she cracked the eggs into a large bowl, the Princess began to hum softly to herself.

But the rhythm faltered and her hands paused. She stared at the cracked shells in the bowl.

Guilt.

It hadn't left her. And no matter how many mornings they spent together, she couldn't understand why Kirie still stayed.

Why Kirie still loved her.

"Kirie," she said quietly, voice catching. "I'm so sorry."

She steadied herself. One more egg cracked.

Her voice was small again, afraid, uncertain.

"Are you happy with me?" she asked, still focused on the bowl. "Even after… everything?"

 

[Kirie]

'There was a heaviness about her, one that Kirie could feel at a visceral level that she could with nobody else. Quinn had said once that was the beginning stages of a bond through the Force, a cord which joined their minds and emotions. It meant that Kirie could see through the smiles and the loving looks, true as they were, to the guilt, and the fear that was hiding behind Quinn's eyes. Kirie, being the one who had been taken, had been provided the means for a gentle gradual recovery. It was needed, but she also knew it left Quinn with little time to process what had happened, how quickly the Galaxy had drawn in around her, happiness dangling over the edge, suspended by what must have seemed like an awfully thin thread. Kirie could only imagine the suffering she had endured. Looking for her night and day, and failing, and still searching, and blaming herself until Kirie dropped back into her lap.

Damaged.

Not that she really thought of it that way, but everyone else did. And Kirie could see beneath the veneer that Quinn took personal responsibility for every single moment of pain Kirie had endured. Her heart was shattered, and Kirie knew, because she had seen, that at the center of Quinn's heart was an endless pool of Darkness. A deep, cold spring. And it was leaking.

"I think I need to keep it. Mama's always wanted my hair long again."

The conversation moved along, and Kirie, for her part, noticed the way Quinn's eyes watched her closely. Still, this was more than a haircut. The way Quinn seemed to be analysing her every expression, it spoke to the hurt lingering under her skin.

'What's important.' Kirie signed. 'Is what you want. Not me.' Gently, Kirie laid a hand on Quinn's back, her palm flat against the bony nodules of her spine, pouring her warmth into her. 'Your hair will be as beautiful to me if it is down to your shoulders or your knees.' With reverence, she let her other hand find its natural place on Quinn's hip, turning the Princess towards her and laying a gentle kiss on the bridge of her nose.

Kirie released Quinn and trailed behind her as they made their way to the well-appointed kitchen. See took her place standing at the counter opposite Quinn, out of the way but ready to received something to chop and mix, like a poorly trained cook. She couldn't help but look at her with concern, waiting for what weighed on her to come pouring out, even as Quinn fought to keep the conversation light.

"We should go somewhere nice, give you something beautiful to draw that isn't Jutrand."

'We should!' Kirie signed enthusiastically, her own expression brightening. The thought of finding somewhere sunny and warm away from Jutrand was so enticing. Kirie nodded vigourously. 'Somewhere with a beach! Or a forest where we can walk together, or a meadow where we can picnic and nap together in the sun.' Kirie sighed wistfully, the whispery exhale the first sound she'd made that morning, but powered only by breath.

"Could you wash the potatoes, my love?"

Kirie gave a solemn nod and set upon washing the spuds, glad to have something to do. She scrubbed away the dirt under the tap, and got so lost in the task that it took her a moment to realise that behind her, Quinn had stopped moving. That was it then, the break. It was like she could feel the emotion rolling off her before she evened turned around.

And the words tumbled out.

And they sank into her flesh like spears.

"I'm so sorry."

"Are you happy with me?"

"Even after… everything?"

Kirie wanted to tell Quinn that she had nothing to be sorry for, and she would, but it felt like she wasn't ready to believe it, not with the pain swirling all around her. Instead, Kirie focused on the second part, the part she thought Quinn could understand, that she could wrap her head around.

Very slowly, Kirie closed the distance, her hands reaching out to turn Quinn around, to face her and look up into the dark, mournful eyes that hid so much strength and power.

'Yes.'

And then a long wait, an unbroken stare to make her understand the truth of it.

'All I want is my life with you. All I want is walk by your side and fall asleep in your arms. If I have that, then I am happy, and the rest of this horrible place-' Kirie gestured vaguely to the Jutrand skyline. 'It fades into the background.'

Quinn Varanin ​

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Kirie //:

In a rare moment, Quinn wasn't wearing heels. Without them, she stood nearly eye level with Kirie. She wanted to fight being spun around; it was easier to talk to the woman with her face hidden. A small benefit is that her usually shorter hair is now longer. Her bangs easily created a curtain to hide behind, allowing her a sense of comfort. Hiding was easy, but she knew Kirie wouldn't allow it.

She didn't fight it and allowed her lover to spin her around, forcing her to look. Quinn struggled, but eventually looked into the endless pools of warmth that made up Kirie's eyes. They were comforting, and Quinn felt guilty for it. There was so much that she depended on the woman for.

It wasn't fair, and it wasn't right.

Maybe that dependency was why Kaila felt okay leaving. Quinn let her mind spiral as she processed the sweet words from her lover.

Despite everything, Kirie wanted to stay.

And it made Quinn happy.

Her words were so simple, so pure with every intent. It was hard for Quinn to find any falsehood in them. She searched, trying to read the underlying currents of body language to find a reason to pull away. That would make it easier. Quinn would be able to see the expiration date on this romance, despite wanting it to be forever.

Kirie's words hung between them, and Quinn let them continue to repeat in her mind. She was happy to be with Quinn, but there was an ugliness that surrounded them. Jutrand, the Sith, and her captors. They all played a factor in Kirie's happiness. While she stated everything would fade as long as she had Quinn, how long would that be okay?

How long would that be enough?

A hand rested gently over Quinn's cheek; she couldn't look at Kirie much longer, or she was going to break down. Fingers threaded their way through her silver hair as she sighed deeply.

"I believe you and I hope you believe that I want the same, it's just —"

"It's not that simple… I wish it were, Kirie," Quinn said, her voice unsteady as she searched for the words.

Quinn brought her other hand to cover her eyes, her breath rattled against her hands as the always composed Princess could feel herself breaking.

"I have constantly failed to protect you after promising you I would. I didn't even find you," Quinn let her hands fall from her face as she let herself lean forward, allowing her forehead to rest against Kirie's shoulder.

"Kaila," Quinn paused, letting her arms now wrap around Kirie's waist, pulling the girl closer.

"She left because I failed to open myself up, but I couldn't put her in danger. I didn't know who or what took you or why. I need to know those things before I could involve anyone else."

Fingers tightened, grasping at the fabric of Kirie's tunic, trying to find a way to anchor herself further into Kirie. She was desperate to find that solace that the woman constantly provided her. Without it, Quinn didn't know what else she had left.

She didn't dare explain the visceral feeling of the bond being broken; there was no good way to talk about it. Even now, Quinn could feel the gaping, horrid wound that was left in its wake.

"I love you, I love you so much, I never want to feel how I felt without you again." Her brows furrowed as her face buried into Kirie.

"I will make the Empire safe for you—even if I have to tear it apart myself."

 

[Kirie]

Maybe it was the optimist in her, but it seemed that Quinn had found some comfort in Kirie's honest admission of her feelings. It was nice, to feel the Princess begin to level out. But then, after a moment afloat, Kirie could see the weight of what had happened to them dragging Quinn downward again, and pulling Kirie in with her.

"I have constantly failed to protect you after promising you I would. I didn't even find you,"

Into the cold depths of dread she plunged, but Kirie fought to find the surface. If there was one thing Kirie knew how to do, it was fight, to resist the cold numb hopelessness of her circumstances. Maybe, she could teach Quinn too.

'No.' A word scarely used around Quinn, but Kirie shook her head in defiance. 'You're wrong. You are blaming yourself for failing to do something that is impossible as long as I am your vulnerable secret. People will use me to get to you if they think they have a chance.' Quinn's arms snaked around her waist, and she hoped from beneath her tunic her skin imparted the warmth of the fire she was stoking inside her. The defiant fire, to live, and love, and survive.

"Kaila,"

"She left because I failed to open myself up, but I couldn't put her in danger. I didn't know who or what took you or why. I need to know those things before I could involve anyone else."

That made Kirie falter, but only for a moment. But she pressed on. She felt like they were close to something, or she was, at the very least.

'I am not a helpless lamb, Quinn.' Kirie reminded her love, gently nudging her with her forehead, leaning into her embrace so that her signs were cramped and her hands brushed against the soft fabric of Quinn's clothes.

'That responsibility shouldn't just fall to you.' Kirie continued. 'Look, I still don't want to hurt people but I can't ignore the fact that if I'm going to survive here I need to start thinking like a Sith.' Kirie took a small step back and counted off points on her fingers as her hands spun through the signs. 'I don't want you to sacrifice all your time and energy watching over me like a shriek-hawk, and I don't want to live like that either, so I need to learn, and I need to do it fast.'

'I've been reading. Defensive powers that can absorb enemies. Emotional abilities to prevent fights, and healing, if I get into real trouble...'

Kirie squeezed Quinn's arm, a little harder than she'd intended, but her body was coursing with frenetic emotion, driven by a fire that defied the deep-rooted and heavy fear that had spread through both of them since her capture and return. That Kirie would be taken again, that something terrible would happen, again, and that this time, Quinn would be unrecoverably, irrevocably broken. Kirie could not allow that to happen, even if that meant quelling the small but persistent voice that told to not to sink deeper into the circle of the Sith. In the end, that desire to maintain her purity lacked practicality, and surely if she took a peaceful and metered approach, Kirie could manage the unpleasant side effects that seemed to come from embracing one's inner Darkness.

'You could teach me? I'm ready this time, I promise.'

And she was. Training with Kaila had been a disaster in all of the worst ways, and thinking about the incident from that day still made Kirie's stomach twist with guilt. But she had been filled with roiling Sangnir blood then, teetering on the edge of hopelessness and importantly, trying to learn combat, a thing that was almost antithetical to Kirie's soul. But she was sure now that there were ways to work around that and still keep herself safe. She just had to find a way to learn it before another of the lurking Sith sniffed out her relationship with Quinn and used her to target the Princess.

"I love you, I love you so much, I never want to feel how I felt without you again."

"I. Love. You." It was not signed, but spoken. Not in words as such, just puffs of air, but they were audible, and shaped by her tongue and her lips such that they were unmistakeable. All the rest, the unspoken promise never to leave again if she could help it, it did not need voicing.

'You won't have to do it alone.' Kirie signed. 'We will tear it apart together.' Kirie let herself be pulled close, falling eagerly into Quinn's embrace, her inner fire spreading to Quinn's frigid core and settling to a gentle warmth in the hearth between their bodies. She stayed there, and held Quinn, cradling the Princess' head on her shoulder, until they eventually broke away and she stepped back, wondering if she had broken through the dense fog of fear and misery that wrapped around herself and Quinn, or at lease lessened it.

'There's another thing.' Kirie signed, stepping back. 'Back on Weik, when we went into my memory, I could hear you in here.' Kirie tapped her skull. 'And feel your feelings. And sometimes, like when we're...' she trailed off and a blush crept across her cheeks. 'When we're together, I can hear and feel snippets too.' She shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, unsure even after all her reading how to phrase these things. 'This bond, can we make it stronger, make me able to read and understand it? Then you can know I'm safe, and I can communicate with you if I need.'

Kirie trailed off again, strangely shy.

'I mean, if that's something you want.'

Quinn Varanin ​

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Kirie //:

Everything Kirie said made Quinn's heart swell. It was exactly what the Princess needed to hear — what she had secretly been aching to hear. How could her lover be so in tune with her thoughts, even without a voice?

Quinn fought to hold back new tears; she hated crying, mostly because she wasn't the prettiest of criers. Growing up, she'd envied the way her sister Noelle could cry and look angelic, while she resembled a drowned cat gasping for air.

She nodded, grasping onto Kirie's breathy words and their reassurance. They were going to be okay — even if the galaxy felt like it was crumbling. Kirie was right; she wasn't weak. She was a survivor, just like Quinn, and they had both weathered the worst this galaxy could throw at them. Maybe that was why they'd been brought together. Only Kirie could understand Quinn at her core — and Quinn understood her in kind.

'Thank you.' Quinn signed as best she could. It was a small gesture, but she wanted Kirie to see she was trying to adapt to their new reality, even if she refused to abandon her mission to restore Kirie's voice.

When Kirie brought up the bond, Quinn's smile grew. She had felt it for some time, but hearing her lover acknowledge it made the earlier pain fade. Kirie was stepping into her own strength, accepting the Force, and finding her place in the Empire. Quinn knew that place would demand she be stronger than even the current Empress.

A soft chuckle left Quinn as Kirie described the moments she'd felt the connection. Brushing stray strands from her face, Quinn's voice softened.

"At points where our minds, bodies, and even souls are in sync — it's easier for us to hear each other."

Her fingertips traced Kirie's cheek, memorizing the warmth of her skin.

"I felt it too. Every time you did, I felt it."

Leaning in, she let her lips caress the curve of Kirie's neck, nuzzling and kissing down to the brand that marked the Weikian woman's strength. Each kiss honored her sacrifice and her victory, even if she had lost something precious — her life still remained.

Quinn's grip on Kirie's clothing betrayed the restraint it took to stop. Exhaling, she pulled back, her smile gentle.

"I want to deepen this bond with you. Out of everyone I've known, this is the bond I want to feel, cherish, and build. I want to help make you stronger so you'll never have to fear anything…"

She hesitated, knowing the following words would hurt in their selfishness.

"So you don't need me if anything ever happened."

 

[Kirie]

With a few words, the world had begun to right itself. Quinn was still making a funny face, trying to hold in her emotions and stop them spilling out, but the mood in the room had settled, the curtains of despair opening to reveal the love and hope shining through. In return of her gesture, Quinn signed back to her in ORSL, and it was Kirie's turn to have her face crumple with emotion, and she was far less practiced at keeping the tears in. She buried her face in Quinn's shoulder and pulled her tight, pulling back only to show she was paying attention when Quinn spoke again.

"I felt it too. Every time you did, I felt it."

With her arms still wrapped around Quinn's waist, Kirie gave a shy smile as Quinn confirmed the feeling Kirie had known instinctively. Quinn's hands caressed her face and her cheeks burned, pleasant memories bubbling up at the soft touch of the Princess' skin on her own. It always amazed her, how Quinn could instantly pull her into a world of longing, with only a soft kiss, a hand on her back, or a whispered word.

In this case, it was those softly spoken syllables that sparked up the flame in her chest. Kirie's fingers dug into Quinn's nightdress in answer, and she stared, mesmerised, at Quinn's sharp, fine features, breath catching in her throat as Quinn's lips played upon her neck and she felt the Princess' hands respond in kind. Kirie closed her eyes, transported to other, simpler mornings. For a few moments, the pain of the last weeks seemed far away. There was only the two of them, their bodies touching and yet craving to be closer.

Quinn pulled back but Kirie leaned in, smothering her with hungry, frantic kisses fanned by the fire still burning inside her. The temptation to relive that moment of bonding through their passions was almost strong enough for her to drag Quinn by the hand back to the bedroom, but eventually Kirie pulled away with Quinn, content for the moment to let her desire settle to a pleasant, warm feeling.

Coyly, Kirie ran a finger along Quinn's jaw, gliding across her lips, relishing in the effect she had on her, the effect they had on each other, and the giddy thoughts of knowing her on an even deeper, more primal level, souls entwined in a way that felt completely right.

"So you don't need me if anything ever happened."

To another, Quinn's final words might have sounded harsh, but to Kirie they were just an honest reflection of the reality they were facing. Theirs was a life of danger, a sword hanging above them each time. As much as it pained her to imagine Quinn dead or hurt too badly to protect her, Kirie knew that Quinn had already nearly died multiple times since Kirie had known her. She needed to learn to fend for herself for her sake, and for Quinn's.

'I understand.' Kirie assured her. 'and, so you don't have to spend as much time worrying about me.'

An acrid smell hit Kirie's nose and she frowned, momentarily puzzled. She peeked over Quinn's shoulder at the oven, her face falling into sudden dismay.

'Uh, Quinn?' Kirie pointed at the dark shape in the oven. Yes, that smell was definitely something burning.

'The quiche...'

Quinn Varanin ​

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Kirie //:

Kirie pulled her back in.

Quinn's heart fluttered as she realized Kirie wanted her close. The last few weeks had been full of recovery and longing, but in this moment, all her worries faded. She let herself fall, melting into the hunger of Kirie's kisses.

She couldn't deny her — she never would. Each kiss was met with the same fervor until Quinn found herself gasping for breath between them, mind swimming in the depths of her desires. She didn't want to let Kirie go again.

When the woman pulled away, it drew a soft, throaty whine from the Echani. She wanted more, needed more, but resigned herself to just clinging to the fabric of her tunic. Quinn smiled at the gentle touches against her face; it was enough to quiet the burning pit in her stomach.
Better to pause — especially for Kirie's recovery. She leaned into the touches like a lothcat, nearly undone by the way Kirie's finger danced against her lip.

Her smile lingered as Kirie reassured her. They both understood — Quinn couldn't keep her in a glass house. Kirie needed to explore and find her place, and all Quinn could do was give her the tools to survive.

Quinn nodded… and then caught the smell. Her eyes widened.

"The quiche!" She scrambled up, untangling herself from the Weikian.

Opening the oven, smoke billowed, and she quickly shoved it away with the Force to keep them from coughing. Pulling out the charred dish, Quinn groaned dramatically.

"I've never burned anything in my life," she pressed a hand over her forehead, pushing her white-blonde bangs back. Then she laughed. "First time for everything, I guess."

Setting the ruined quiche aside, she glanced back at Kirie with a sheepish grin. "Another morning of pancakes, then?"

She moved to the pantry, mind still spinning with their conversation, wanting to press further for reasons both selfish and carnal. But it was important.

"We can practice," she said while gathering ingredients. She paused, cheeks warming. "I mean telepathy. I think we've had enough practice, um…" She trailed, blushing harder despite the memory of how often they had "practiced" their bond before.

"Yes, we've… forged it quite enough. No need to practice that." She busied herself whisking the batter as quickly as possible, leaving the quiche to cool so it wouldn't set the bin on fire.

"Try and talk to me," Quinn said at last, glancing at her with a small smile. "My defenses won't block you out. Lucky for you, with the bond, you get easy access."