Private Moonlight Pull

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Chommell Minor

Equipment:
Training Jumpsuit | Lightsaber | Modified DL-27 | Tic

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The dreams hadn't stopped. They'd twisted, warped. Tessk's face still flashed behind his eyelids, that much hadn't changed, but lately there was more. Silver light cutting through the dark. Trees where there shouldn't be trees. Whispers he couldn't quite hear, but could feel all the same. They pulled at him in a way that wasn't just memory. It reminded him of the dreams he'd have of Dathomir. Of his mother.​

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Ace had never put much stock in omens or gods or shrines. The Force he believed in that, it was kind of hard not to when it burned through your veins. But temples and rituals? He'd always figured those were for people looking for answers in the wrong places. And yet, here he was. Chommell Minor. In the middle of nowhere. Following a pull that felt more like a hook in his ribs than a choice.​

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The trees thickened as he stepped deeper, until the forest seemed to swallow the moonlight whole. Then, the Grove opened: a hollow in the woods, still and quiet as if even the air bowed its head. At the far end, a cave mouth yawned, half-shuttered by hides of animal skin that shifted faintly in the breeze. In front of it stood a treestump worn flat and darkened by age, serving as a crude altar.​

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Ace stood there, taking it in. At his heel, Tic let out a low, warbling chirp. The little BD unit tilted his dome toward the treeline, photoreceptors blinking nervously; one flickering in its usual stutter. Ace glanced down, the corner of his mouth twitching faintly. His boot shifted just enough to nudge Tic's side, a small gesture meant to reassure, though maybe it was more for himself than the droid.​

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"Yeah..." Ace muttered, dark eyes scanning the shadows. "You feel it too, huh?"​

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He stopped just past the first line of trees, shoulders tight, hand resting close to his saber though he didn't draw it.​

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"Alright." he said under his breath, more to the Grove than to Tic. "I'm here. Now what?"​

​

Jael Amnen ​

 

[Jael Amnen]

She had knelt before the altar for what seemed like hours. Her knees had grown numb, her legs had fallen asleep. All was for a purpose, even this show of piety. Jael Amnen sought further guidance as to her vaguely revealed future.

When it had come time for even prostrations, sisters in the faith had needed to lift her from the ground and support her, such was the weariness of her light frame. It was after the latter prostrations, some new entrant into the grove emerged.

Jael had recovered from her earlier supplications, and now stood, with head bowed, on the tree line. The Mother granted her the blending — the ability to mesh with her natural surroundings to all but the most perceptive of gazes. She broke the illusion by simply lifting her head.

"You shall not need that here," she said, with a melodic intonation.

She stepped forward, garbed in a thin flowing dress. Its modest forward-facing appearance hiding the low sweeping folds of the dress that sat gathered in the curve of her lower back. Her dress swept across the dewy ground, soaking in water at the hemline and slowly turning the light brown into a deeper muddy tone.

The air was cool, far too chill for such a garment. Despite goose-pimpled flesh, Jael looked perfectly at ease.

"Greetings. And welcome to the Grove of the Great Huntress...the moon-mother bids you welcome," she said, words seeming more natural than a chorus of birds in the morning.

"I am Jael — priestess and welcomer of troubled souls. You are welcome here. I bid you eased of all that weighs on you," she said with a gesture towards the altar in the midst of the grove, "please...sit."

Acier Moonbound​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Chommell Minor

Equipment:
Training Jumpsuit | Lightsaber | Modified DL-27 | Tic

A voice cut through the stillness like a bell. Ace's head jerked toward it, hand twitching closer to the lightsaber at his hip before his eyes found the source. A woman stepping forward, silver and shadow draped across her in equal measure, like she belonged to this place in a way he never could.

Tic beeped sharply at his heel, photoreceptor flickering in anxious bursts. Ace didn't hush him this time. His own pulse had already quickened.

"Uh-huh. You sure about that?" He muttered, low and dry, one brow ticking as his gaze lingered on her calm in the chill air.

But he didn't draw. Instead his gaze caught on her and lingered longer than he meant it to.

Silver-white locs framed her face, catching the moonlight as if it bent just to touch them. Gold traced her throat and arms in deliberate lines, not gaudy but precise, drawing the eye exactly where it was meant to go. Her skin, deep and warm, seemed to drink in the moonlight and give it back softened, radiant. And her eyes, sharp, almond-shaped, carried a weight that made him feel seen in a way he didn't ask for.

Tic's nervous chirp pulled him back, grounding him. His jaw flexed, and he looked away then swallowed.

"Troubled souls." He exhaled, long and slow, suspicion edging back into his voice as his gaze flicked toward the altar she gestured to. "Makes sense."

His boots carried him forward, every step was measured like he was making sure not the ground woulnd't fall underneath him. Tic chirped once, low and uneasy, as Ace came up to the stump-altar. He crouched first, testing the space with his eyes, before lowering himself down.

"I'm Acier." He said finally, with a faint defiance. "And if this "moon-mother" really "bid" me here… then she must have a sense of humor."

Then, he paused and bit his lip slightly - glancing around the grove, taking everything in. Ace's expression was inquisitive but the undercurrent of caution lingered, his dark eyes met Jael's.

"I've dreamt about this place. A lot. Why?"

Jael Amnen ​

 

[Jael Amnen]

Though she made no sound, her smile still laughed. "Humour is often the salve for deeply felt trauma," she said after a moment of what seemed to be personal contemplation.

"You seem a witty soul."

She watched with silver, doe-like eyes as he inspected the altar. There was nothing special about it, save its usage. There was no magic, nor Force-related properties. It was simply a piece of stone carved from the cave behind them. It had lain their for generations. None remembered its maker.

"Greetings, Acier," she said, seating herself beside him, movements fluid and lacking urgency.

She had invited herself into his reach without a note of worry. Sitting there with the poise and grace of a being beyond the mortality. Her eyes took in his, hers seeming to sparkle just slightly — their furrows and crypts seemed to roll like waves.

"I cannot speak to the Mother's will. Be assured that those dreams were from her," she said, lips parting just enough for words to form.

Her narrow, otherworldly hand moved to gently rest upon his. Her touch was like a feather. "Do you hunger? Thirst? Will you share of our harvest?"

She cast her eyes towards the droid, lifting her fingers from his hand to wave them faintly at Acier's companion. "If your droid requires charging, we do keep facilities for such things on hand...though they are rarely used. We have no droids of our own."

Acier Moonbound​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Chommell Minor

Equipment:
Training Jumpsuit | Lightsaber | Modified DL-27 | Tic

She moved closer, calm as still water, like sitting within his reach didn't even cross her mind as a risk. That alone put him on edge. Most people learned fast not to step into striking distance unless they wanted trouble. She did it without hesitation. Was it confidence? Trust? Or just indication of a sheltered lifestyle.

Her hand brushed his and he stiffened, shoulders tightening, though he didn't pull away. Tic chirped once at the gesture, half-curious, half-anxious, photoreceptor flickering in uneven pulses.

"Trauma." Ace muttered, finally glancing back at her. "You could figure all that out just from a dry joke?"

The longer she stayed near, the more he felt it. It was faint, like careful threads moving under the surface. It was familiar.. She wasn't just speaking to him, she was feeling him. Probing without claws, with something softer, but no less pointed.

"You've got the Force in you." He said finally, low and matter-of-fact. It wasn't a question just recognition. His gaze locked on hers, as if daring her to deny it.

For a moment he held it there, then shifted his eyes back to the crude stone altar.

Her offer of food or water gave him an out, and he took it but still declined. Shaking his head, he said "No, thank you."

When she waved toward Tic, the little BD unit warbled faintly, ducking back toward Ace's boot like a child hiding behind a parent's leg. That drew the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth, almost a smile.

"He's fine." Ace said, tilting his head down at the droid. "Think he'd rather stay with me."

The accommodations, the pleasentries, the softness - it was all a little too much. Was this all some kind of act? Or... was he still too wound up to notice when someone didn't have an ulterior motive.

"I have... a lot of questions." His hand flexed against his thigh, restless, before he tilted his head slightly.

"Your 'moon-mother', what is she? And you, you're a priestess, okay. But what do you do?" His brow furrowed, tone edged with suspicion more than curiosity. He gestured loosely toward the altar, then around the hollow.

"Is this some sort of getaway for traumatized souls and you... what? Accommodate them? Expecting nothing in return?"

Jael Amnen ​

 

[Jael Amnen]

With his rising tension, Jael drew her hand back to her lap, fingers folding lightly into the other as though holding a secret. "So many questions," she said, her smile slight, graceful.

She looked away from him, into the dense, dark undergrowth. Her posture seemed to lean away from him, not departing, but granting space. "All who come here carry grief and loss," she said softly, before offering a quick but tender glance, "trauma, if you will."

Her eyes went back to the night-time forest. "The Force moves through me," was all she offered, as though more would cheapen the truth.

The wind above the canopy picked up, with a gust moving the branches above them. It was enough to cast more moonlight upon their mutual seating. The dust upon her skin shimmered, catching the glow so that for an instant she seemed less flesh than reflection. Moonlight made form.

"The Mother is...part...of the Force. But not as you would know it. She is light in the darkness, but could not exist without the darkness. She is comfort and provider," she said, with a tone that conveyed deep longing, "we do not hold to rigid notions of dark and light here. All are welcome to the Mother's embrace. I...as her Priestess...have been given the responsibility to care for all the Mother's children..."

Her attention turned back toward Acier. Full lips sealed for just a moment as she looked him over with curiosity.

"...such as yourself. If I cannot provide for the needs of your droid...Acier...perhaps I could fulfil yours?"

Acier Moonbound​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Chommell Minor

Equipment:
Training Jumpsuit | Lightsaber | Modified DL-27 | Tic

He noticed when she pulled back, returning her hand to her own lap. Ace, for a brief moment, longed for her touch to return but curled his fingers and calmly turned his head away. Listening as she spoke.​

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She was elusive in her answers, which served to add frustration to his already tense heart. When he finally turned to look upon her once more, he saw something... almost ethereal. And in that moment, it was like he'd forgotten to breathe.​

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The gust carried light down through the canopy, catching the fine dust across her skin until she seemed less flesh than reflection, a figure carved from moonlight. It hit him quick, sharp, in a way he didn't expect. His jaw flexed, eyes narrowing, and he dragged his gaze away with a scoff through his nose.​

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Well, at least he was receiving some sort of answer on the 'Mother'. As vague as it was. Ace raised a brow, curious, and his dark gaze lingered on her, momentarily he wondered if the 'Mother' was some sort of alternative view of the Force. Like how the Dathomiri would call it Magick.​

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When Jael looked upon him again, he met her silver eyes and he was taken aback once more. The woman's features were striking, mesmerizing even. She was effortlessly beautiful, like a lie too convincing to ignore. His lips thinned as he continued to hold her gaze.​

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"Responsiblity to her children?" he echoed, tone in half-disbelief "'Kay, I'll bite."​

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Ace reflected on Jael's words "Perhaps I could fulfill yours?" She couldn't mean... No. Of course not. Right? Ace's freckled face betrayed his wandering thoughts. Quickly, he gently shook his head and his face steeled - returning to his usual blank expression.​

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At his feet, Tic gave a low, mournful chirp, photoreceptor dimming. The little droid tilted his dome toward him, almost as if he could sense the storm Ace refused to name. Ace's throat tightened at the sound, but he didn't acknowledge it.​

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His mind went to Tessk. His lifeless body flashing in his mind, the mark of a lightsaber carved into the Trandoshan's smoking chest. Then to Dathomir, the prophecy... The Final Weave. A sigh of defeat escaped his lips.​

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"You can't give me what I need." He stood up sharply and promptly, then began pacing "No one can."​

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Ace stopped pacing, shoulders tight, back half-turned to her. His hand hovered near his lightsaber but didn't touch it, fingers twitching once before falling slack. He glanced over his shoulder, the moonlight catching the sharp line of his jaw and the exhaustion in his eyes. What else did he have to lose?​

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"If you really think you can… then show me."​

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Jael Amnen ​

 

[Jael Amnen]

Her gaze did not yield. If anything, it deepened.

The silver of her irises seemed to move as though liquid, slow streams circling within her eyes, flowing inward and outward like the tide of a hidden sea. They held him fast, daring him to search for their end, daring him to draw nearer to their current. The longer he met them, the easier it would be to forget the forest around them, the altar, even the droid's soft whirring.

When she finally looked away, it was not sudden but languid - as though the spell had not been broken, only set aside for later.

Jael rose with quiet grace, her dress whispering across the damp ground. She moved toward the cave mouth, her figure slipping past the hides that veiled it. For a long moment, two, three, there was nothing. Only the forest's silence and the faint drip of water somewhere unseen. The pause was just long enough to let the question linger, had she left him to his own devices?

And then, she returned.

Her arms cradled a rounded clay pot with its lid sealed tight, steam already hinting at its escape through faint seams. In her other hand, two earthen bowls rested, simple but well-kept. She lowered them with care upon the old stump-altar, brushing away a fallen leaf before setting the pot in the center.

"Selara prepared this earlier," Jael said, her voice soft as though the woman's name deserved reverence, "she has a gift, our finest cook. Even the most restless soul cannot help but be stilled by her stews."

With slow precision she lifted the lid. A fragrant heat rose, earthy and rich, spiced with herbs from the grove's edge and thick with root and grain. The scent was hearty.

She dipped the ladle, filling one bowl, then another. Without ceremony, she set one before him and kept the other for herself.

Her eyes sought his once more, silver currents flowing as though they had never ceased. "Come. Let us begin with this."

Acier Moonbound​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Chommell Minor

Equipment:
Training Jumpsuit | Lightsaber | Modified DL-27 | Tic

Her gaze didn't waver, and for a moment, neither did his. The silver currents in her eyes shifted and flowed like tides, slow, endless, calming. They held him in place, daring him to look deeper, daring him to lose himself. And for a moment, he almost did.

He blinked hard, jaw tightening, and the spell broke just enough to breathe again. When Jael rose, her dress whispering across the damp ground, Ace's eyes tracked her toward the cave mouth. Then she vanished past the hides, leaving only silence.

Ace's brow furrowed. "She just leave?" he muttered to Tic.

The BD unit warbled softly from the ground by his boots, tilting his head toward the cave as if in answer.

Ace let out a short breath, half a laugh without humor. "Yeah, I know that's where she went. Nevermind."

The quiet stretched for several more moments before she finally returned. This time her hands were full, carrying a clay pot that breathed steam. She set it on the stump and the scent hit him before he saw what she carried: rich, earthy, heavy with herbs and spice.

Still standing, Ace wandered over to the stump and to Jael - watching as she explained. Was this some sort of relaxant as well then? For a moment he tensed, his old insitincts waiting for the pit in his stomach that always came when something was wrong. But it didn't come. No sharp tug, no wrongness coiling in the gut. Just warmth.

With that confirmation, he finally sat. Glancing at Tic, then back to the bowl, he exhaled deeply and with it, his muscles loosened. Then he tried a mouthful. Slowly, careful and deliberate. For a moment, he was still. His jaw worked slowly, eyes fixed on the bowl. Eventually, his lips pressed into a thin line, unreadable. He gave a small nod before setting the bowl back on the stump with care.

"You said about responsibility. Taking care of your "Mother"'s children. What's it mean for you? Personally."

Ace had to know more about her, he couldn't take the feeling that she was reading him, learning him while he remained in the dark.

Jael Amnen