Masquerade at Grand Theatre

[Christie Daae]

[member="Arkaitz Zambrano"]

Head swiveled as she glanced around, curled-locks dancing across the fair skin of her shoulders and neck. Arkaitz was right. Several people were watching them. They would offer hushed whispers before turning away. Many displayed encouraging smiles. A few looked like they were waiting to speak with her.

She became self-conscious.

But her eyes were beaming beneath the mask. "Monsieur Arkaitz, you flatter me." She couldn't help the small smile that snuck free between crimson-painted lips. "Thank you." She felt like she would be whisked away soon, by her employer or other admirers. She would do her duty, even if this was all new and breaking ground. And for once, she wasn't sure if this was the role she was meant to play.

"Your father," the girl wondered. "Were - are you two close?"

She could stall a little bit longer to be with the intriguing man.

 

[Mammut]

His father, ah, there's the rub.

A wincing smile flitted across Arkaitz's face, half-a-dozen lies on the tip of his tongue. Suddenly there came a shrill blood-curdling scream from backstage. The musicians cut off awkwardly, and the entire theatre gave a collective gasp.

"He's dead!" Cried someone off scene.

Arkaitz's eyes narrowed and he briefly stretched out his presence in the Force. He sensed.... ah.

People began to break up from their social conversations. Some stared wide-eyed at the stage, while others began to make for the exit. Arkaitz had scene events such as this before. In moments it could be a stampede, the galaxy's rich and famous running heedless, trampling each other in all their silk and pearls.

"Miss Daae, there's foul play afoot. Come with me." He put some of his will behind the words, imbuing them with the power of command that might shoo away the mind's initial protestations.

[member="Christie Daae"]

 

[Christie Daae]

[member="Arkaitz Zambrano"]

Brown orbs widened. There were more screams from backstage. A woman screamed close by and fainted. The patrons began shoving at each other toward the exits. They would be bottlenecked in seconds.

Any lingering thoughts of doubt about going with Arkaitz without a chaperone disappeared.

"Yes Monsieur." A quick nod of ascent.

Heart beat like a fettered, terrified bird inside her chest. There was a rumble on the ceiling where a large, crystal chandelier hung. A fleeing nobleman hit her hard in the small of her back. She gasped as she was shoved into Arkaitz, an arm going to loop around one of his for support. She clung to him like a lifeline. She could think about how unlady like it was later. If there was a later.

There were more shoves and jostles as the river of people grew more frenzied. The ceiling shook again and pieces of crystal began to fall like jagged, drops of rain.

 

[Mammut]

Slender arms wrapped around one of his and once more he felt that strange, alien sensation of another being's warmth. In the midst of the commotion, Arkaitz paused briefly, eyes staring into the middle distance, then his lips pursed and he forded through the crowd. He could feel the tightness with which she clung to him and in the Force, her fear.

They were all afraid. Panicked and confused, rushing toward doors.

Arkaitz found a spike of anger in his own chest. Useless creatures, so obsessed with aesthetics, but in a moment of madness their senses failed them.

"Out."

He roughly pushed aside a magnate.

"Of."

Gloved fingers closed around a priceless overcoat and jerked another patron out of the way.

"My."

A simple shove sent a Bith falling into the seats.

"Way."

The ruthless physicality sent a rush of heady adrenaline through Arkaitz's body. Forging through the stream of bodies in such a manner, he eventually passed the threshold of the exit with [member="Christie Daae"].

"My shuttle is in bay A1."

The most expensive bay, reserved only for patrons of import. In the chaos, he doubted she would decipher any significance in the name.

 

[Christie Daae]

[member="Arkaitz Zambrano"]

Dark-brows lofted beneath the mask as Arkaitz made a path in the chaos. A river cutting through the terrain. More like a mudslide. But she was too caught up in trying not to get knocked over and swept away from the others. There was a slight break.

Doe-like eyes connected with his.

Was it wise to go to his ship?

Creak.

A man she just met?

SNAP!!

The chandelier in the room found gravity as its anchor broke, plummeting in a cascade of shards and twisted metal. Beautifully deadly. She clung to him tighter and didn't slow. Demure-chin gave a quick nod.

After all, he was a gentleman, wasn't he?

"Even if only for a moment of respite and to recover, Monsieur," she let out breathlessly. And around him, for the first time, she felt something stir. It wasn't emotional. It was something through the force.

And that scared her most of all.

 

[Mammut]

The sound of a chain breaking from its mooring drew Arkaitz's eyes to the ceiling. The chandelier's chain tore through the drywall, spraying those below with a cloud of broken plaster before the chandelier itself smashed into the floor in a groan of twisting, tortured metal and splintering glass. Bits of debris rained down, besmirching the red of his garb in a layer of powdered plaster.

More screaming rose from the theatre, a crescendo of terror so very palpable in the Force. Ark shivered, then turned away. He knew not what powers were at play here, but so long as she was safe he found he did not care.

Only a moment she said.

No, I think not.

A protocol droid stood outside the shuttle, chassis shiny as though it had just had an oil bath. As they approached it wobbled toward them.

"Oh my. What has happened, Master Za-"

"Silence," the word hissed from his lips like acid. "Prepare the shuttle for takeoff. There has been a murder."

"Yes, Master."

That presence in the Force, was it drawing nearer? Arkaitz hurriedly led her up the yacht's ramp and through the airlock into the lounge area. Sigils of House Zambrano hung upon the walls. He scowled at them, gaze hot enough to burn.

"Miss Daae, allow me to escort you off planet until this unfortunate affair has been settled. No doubt we'll have word from the local security soon enough."

 

[Christie Daae]

[member="Arkaitz Zambrano"]

She nearly tripped during their rush up the ramp and a very genteel part of her almost fainted. Her lean into Arkaitz's arm and his statuesque support at her side were the only things keeping her in those heels. Eyes flitted uncertainly to the door they just entered, details of the lounge not lost on the young girl. The symbol was something she should know. But she couldn't recall...

A tremble ran through her corseted-body.

It was a wonder she could breath with the recent physical outburst. Would she have been crushed beneath the chandelier? Or by the mob? And what happened backstage? And why was he looking at his own ship with so much hatred?

Head spun. "Alright. But I'll need to contact my employer once we're at a safe distance away. She'll be worried about me. I think."

"And excuse me but I must sit," she practically fell into one of the lounge chairs. Trembling hands made no move to remove her mask as shock began to settle in. Shock at the events, of course. But shock because she could feel Arkaitz's hatred without understanding why.

When she arrived at Lord Orcus' orphanage she was required to submit a blood test. They were told it was a precaution to help those with a gift. She never saw the results of that test but remember arguing behind closed doors. There were whispers among the waiting children about the force.

"You're angry?" The murmur left her crimson-lips. "I hope I have done nothing to offend you, sir."

 

[Mammut]

Arkaitz turned away from the banners and fixed her with a corrupted gold stare behind the bone-white death mask, watching intensely as she removed her masque. Fair, flawless skin lay beneath. He made no move to do the same.

"No," the baritone rolled out, a smooth and controlled veneer above raw veins of pure seething ire. "My wroth does not extend to heaven."

He offered no further explanation.

"Please, make yourself at ease, Ninety-Four will see to your needs."

One black-gloved hand gestured in the direction of the nickel-plated protocol droid.

"I will return." He swept stiffly off down a corridor, red cape fluttering behind.

The droid wobbled forward, carrying a tray with a single water glass, humanoid shaped head fixed with a permanent bland expression. Glowing photoreceptors stared blankly at her as he extended the cup full of water in her direction.

"Greetings madame, I am See-Ninety-Four, human relations. Do you require any assistance?"

Beneath them, the shuttle's engines spun up and the whole ship shuddered briefly under takeoff, lifting up into the Bespin clouds.

[member="Christie Daae"]

 

[Christie Daae]

[member="Arkaitz Zambrano"]

She watched the billowing of Arkaitz's red cape until the shadows of the ship's corridor swallowed it and its wearer up. Dark-brows on soft skin knit with worry and confusion at his vague words. Distracted gaze leveled on the droid with tray and water. Delicate fingers reached forward and took the offered glass. She released the mask on the sofa at her side.

"No...thank you, this will do."

She began with small sips. Then thought better of her original dismissal.

"Wait. Can you tell me what those banners stand for?" Chin tipped to the sides of the decorated, ornate lounge. Her corsetted-form bobbed slightly as the ship moved higher and faster.

 

[Mammut]

"Of course, madame," the droid said at once, accessing its memory banks.

"The banners are the heraldic symbols of House Zambrano, the current ruling house on the planet Panatha, whose main sentient inhabitants are the Epicanthix. The current system of government is a theocratic monarchy. The current ruler is Kaine Zambrano, of house Zambrano." It droned, "Also known as the-"

"-God King of Panatha. Darth Carnifex," finished Arkaitz from the corridor. Back sooner than expected. "That is enough. You are dismissed, Ninety-Four."

The droid toddled away. Ark Zambrano swung his head toward [member="Christie Daae"], eyes narrowing, gauging her reaction the way an adder tasted the air with forked tongue.

 

[Christie Daae]

[member="Arkaitz Zambrano"]

Confusion, realization, shock, disbelief, anger. Ark would see all these emotions flicker across the performer's brow. Glass of water was gently settled on a nearby table as she rose from the settee. One hand went to hike up her skirts to rise, so she wouldn't trip on the fabric.

He had the house emblem of the Zambranos. But what did that mean? Was he a royal member? An agent? Lord Orcus taught her this name to be feared. Rumors of unspeakable things were done to woman, to...

Two steps.

She prayed silently for courage as she closed the distance between herself and Ark. Innocent pools of brown didn't shy away as she looked him square on. "If you're delivering me to Darth Carnifex, I'd rather you slit my throat now."

The facade of bravery in the girl was thinning as her lower lip trembled. She assumed the worst. Why else keep this name a secret?

 

[Mammut]

A chill wind ran through his heart at those words and he went sudden and terribly still, frozen in place. He'd seen all the familiar emotions flicker through her face, her presence. Disgust would be next, should she see what hid behind the mask.

"On the moons of Iego there reside two species, Miss Daae," he began. "One is a race of tunneling demons. The other are angels, the Diathim, famed for their singing as much as their beauty. When I heard your voice I half expected to see an angel of Iego. Instead I saw you."

Gloved fingers curled into fists. "I am Arkaitz Zambrano. Carnifex is my father." Venom dripped from every word. "I heard tell he once captured an angel. He enjoyed ripping off its wings, one every day, for six days."

Crushing pain in his chest at the thought of her, chained up like one of his father's pets. "I would sooner give him ten thousand Diathim than deliver you to his mercy."

[member="Christie Daae"]

 

[Christie Daae]

[member="Arkaitz Zambrano"]

Christie was the girl who ran in front of speeders and crowded streets to rescue the downed, Tion flapperjay with a broken wing. Her father always said she had a big heart that was perhaps, too big for the world. Breath hitched in her chest at Ark's words. She could feel his anger and sincerity.

The young girl believed him and at the same time, saw the flapperjay. Broken. Emotionally.

Tears of relief and shame at how she misjudged him began to pool within her brown eyes, cascading salty-trails down ebony curves. "I'm so sorry I misjudged you, Arkaitz." His name seemed more personal when spoken without a formal accompaniment. "When we first met, I wish you had told me but I imagine I can understand why you didn't....growing up under that name."

A hand reached forward and if he didn't shy away, it would come to rest gently on the side of his mask, her fingers cupping his face of hard plastic and exposed skin. "Please forgive me. I only know what I was taught at the orphanage."

 

[Mammut]

Dewy tears shimmered in her eyes, a starlight sparkle, before tracking down her face.

He'd made her cry.

Transfixed by the sight of such a tragedy happening before him, Arkaitz did not move away from her fingers as they came to rest delicately on the side of his face. He could feel the warmth of her palm against his cheek, while the lengths of her fingers lay along the mask.

Arkaitz closed his eyes. Could the moment last forever?

"You are not the one in need of forgiveness," he breathed, "Gentle creature."

More kindness shown by her in a handspan of minutes than in a lifetime among the Sith.

[member="Christie Daae"]

 

[Christie Daae]

[member="Arkaitz Zambrano"]

The moment his eyes closed, he seemed more tranquil. Maybe it was just because the anguish she constantly saw in those depths were hidden behind his soft-lids. Hand lowered from his face to quickly brush away at the salty-trail along the curves of her cheeks.

Funny that he called her gentle creature when she saw him as a wounded one.

The young girl may have removed her hand but she didn't step away, didn't add any space of separation between their bodies. "If I am not being too forward." After all, they had just met even though his familiarity was beginning to feel quite natural. Voice was a quiet-whisper, a bubble of a shaded, mountain stream. She didn't want to disturb the peace Ark seemed to have with his eyes closed, his shoulders a little less strained.

"Why not change your name? Make a separate life for yourself? Start over."

If she had grown up with a family like that, would she have been able to leave them? She didn't rightly know.

 

[Mammut]

"My life is not so simple," hissed Arkaitz, voice thickly constricted.

What sort of life waited for a man with half a face and a defunct immune system whose sole area of expertise lay in the realm of sorcery? Would he cling to the shadows and caverns, some sort of wretched hermit? A haunted face, shunned out of revulsion and hunted out of fear.

If she knew what lay behind his mask... the pity in her eyes would be amplified tenfold, or else filled with disgust. He pushed a breath through his nose, teeth on edge, a tremble of anger cascading through his body. The condescending compassion in her gaze burned him, as if she were staring at some injured bird instead of a living, breathing person. The sort of gaze the wealthy cast at unfortunate paupers living in the streets.

"Spare me your self-righteous pity."

He swept past her imperiously to stare out the nearest viewport.

[member="Christie Daae"]

 

[Christie Daae]

[member="Arkaitz Zambrano"]

Self-righteous?

"I didn't mean," she mumbled as he swept by. If he wanted to put her in her place, he certainly did so. She was a performer; she served others for a living. Aristocrats were two sides of a credchit. They applauded a performance on stage but were quick to turn their noses up in any other social situation, unless, of course, a performer was famous. Christie was a far cry from famous. She was a commodity. An orphan. Someone who worked for a living. Lower-class.

In a foolish moment of intimacy, she almost forgot her station untill his actions quickly reminded her. Just a moment ago, he claimed she hadn't offended him. Oh how foolish she had been. Her palm still tingled where it had met warm skin and mask. She pressed it against her dress, trying to forget. She spun around to look at his back.

For a moment, ire flashed in her brown depths.

"Do you think me, simple, Monsieur? Because of my class?" Voice softened. "Because you won't give me a chance to understand your life when I'm right here, ready to listen? As a friend."

Chest rose and fell as she gathered a breath.

"Although it seems I have caused nothing but harm since setting foot on this vessel. I'm sure the situation at the opera house is well under control with local authorities and you could release yourself from any further obligations."

 

[Mammut]

Anger radiated from her, he could sense it. Arkaitz looked back over one shoulder, catching a peripheral glimpse of the young chanteuse. How dare she talk to him in this manner, after what he had done for her. The urge to reach out in the Force and crush her throat seemed almost overwhelming.

The princeling inhaled, long and deep, nearly giving in to the desire, but no. He would not crush a little bird caught in his web simply for the sake of watching it die.

I am not my father.

"You are not simple, but do not expect to understand what I have endured. Do you know what it is like to be hated and resented before you have even met someone, solely because of your name? Can you even comprehend it?" Arkaitz stared down at gloved fingers.

"One day, perhaps, you will learn, but there are other matters to attend to... I'm afraid returning you to the surface is impossible, Miss Daae," He turned away from the viewport, fixing her with a cruel gaze. "I instructed Ninety-Four to purchase your contract. You now sing for the lords and ladies of Panatha. Welcome to the patronage of House Zambrano."

[member="Christie Daae"]

 

[Christie Daae]

[member="Arkaitz Zambrano"]

A gasp bubbled from her throat. She could feel the radiating waves of anger from here. And for the first time, they were directed at her slender form.

Fair fingers traveled to the pendant around her throat, clutching at the smooth and familiar object. Eyes tilted to the floor but the intensity in her gaze never wavered. "Do not presume you are the only one to endure hardships." Voice was gentle but brave.

When her eyes finally lifted to find his pricks of cruelty, he would not find malice, only two deep pools of compassion which quickly transitioned to confusion. "But Madame Choi would never...I don't understand."

She was frozen. Unable to move or loosen her finger's grasp around her father's memory.

"You say there is nothing to forgive but I can feel your anger." Was that strange?

"I have caused you nothing but pain. Why?"

 

[Mammut]

"Do not presume you are the source of my woe, Miss Daae," he countered.

Lashing out at her proved only a temporary outlet. Guilt now assailed him. He ignored the nagging doubt, pushing it into some dark, unused corner of his mind. Guilt was for those who had souls. The galaxy told him he had none, whether because of his heritage or his ruined visage did not matter. The end result was the same.

"We will arrive at Panatha in due time. I suggest you make yourself comfortable in the meanwhile. Ninety-Four will prepare a cabin for you. Is there anything else you require?"

[member="Christie Daae"]