Private Of Crown & Contempt

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Irina Jesart //:
//: Eshan //:
//: Attire //:

Clouds rolled over the palace with a gentle breeze. Spring had settled in for the most part, and everything across the plains had begun to bloom. Quinn had never been to the planet during this time, when she had — she was only a child. But those quiet, gentle memories were few and far between, but they were there. Unlike other children, she was only allowed some time outside; her early life was confined to a room, one that she had boarded off the moment she had entered the palace.

She didn't want to remember that room; she wanted it as far from her as she could make it. Blocking it off, letting it rot on the other side of the palace was good enough for now.

Sitting at the ornate desk, she looked out the tall window. Rolling hills rustled with each caress of the wind. It was mesmerizing, and the young Queen could find herself watching the way her world moved for the rest of her life. Though the thought that this was the rest of her life was something that didn't sit as comfortably as she had hoped.

She still wanted more.

It took almost all of her effort to turn her head away from the window. There was so much for her to do nowadays. She often found herself wishing for the thoughtless times when she could lounge and just wear pretty clothes. A small smile crept along her face as she remembered how much easier life was before she decided to reach for responsibility.

Though Eshan was a stepping stone. There would be another after her, probably someone outside her lineage. She needed to make things easier for them, make Eshan better than before.

"Right, the proposals."

Her fingers began to type away at the computer in front of her. Some things were needed, as well as items that the Mandalorian Government needed to sign off on. As much sovereignty as they gave Eshan, she still had to answer to them for certain things. Rolling her eyes, she did her best to think of the chubby little ball that Aether used to be. Some days, that was the only thing keeping her from revolting.

Quinn took a moment, pausing her work as she let her mind wander. A hand caressed the gentle silks paired with the eshan silver; the fabric reminded her of her mother, grounding her in bittersweet memories. Her eyes flickered towards something on her desk. A gentle chuckle would escape her throat as she looked towards a framed image. A lanky blonde-haired child, a boy with a toy blaster, and the Empress of the Sith Order — smiling during calmer… more peaceful times.

"Your highness," a voice would call out to her. She looked up and saw one of the younger handmaidens move closer to the desk. Her head bowed slightly as Quinn excused her.

"You have a visitor."

Quinn tilted her head as she looked at her agenda. There was no one expected. Thinking, Quinn waved her hand, "Let them in, lucky for them my day is mostly free."

The woman nodded and then let the visitor in.

 

[Irina Jesart]

Wearing: XXX​

Irina had never seen so much colour in blooms before, stretching acorrs the plains as far as the eyes could see. The majority of her life had been spent in a villa in the middle of a desert, where the only green was in the sharp palms and succulents that would maybe bloom every couple of years. She found her eyes drawn to each window she passed as the servant lead her through ornate hallways, wondering if she might have time to visit them.

The thought vanished as she was asked to wait while she was announced, a sense of dread settling in her stomach that evaporated any daydream of standing in a field of flowers. Quinn had been less than kind the last two occasions they had met. She knew why and Aerik had asked her to fix it before the Voss hosted them. But she hadn’t been able to find it in herself to do so.

The servant reappeared beckoning her forward and Rin took a steadying breath and stepped forward, crossing the threshold into a beautiful study, an ornate desk dominating the room. Quinn sat behind it, dressed in silver and white. She was as opulent as the palace that housed them and in stark contrast to the dark robes hemmed with gold that Irina herself wore.

Rin lowered her hood and bowed. “Your Majesty.” she greeted, not Councillor, not here. Here she was the Queen of Eshan. A different title with different responsibilities. “Thank you for seeing me.”

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Irina Jesart //:

To say Quinn was surprised was an understatement. Hearing the girl's voice voluntarily in front of her was interesting. She didn't react immediately; she allowed the silence to swell as her eyes watched birds fly across the vast window. Quinn would have been happier watching the scenery than having whatever conversation Irina wanted.

At least they weren't among the dying and dead this time.

Slowly, her attention turned to the acolyte. The dark robes contrasted harshly with the silver and teal that decorated the room. Quinn stood from her desk, moving carefully as she often did. There was a grace, one that was only known to the Echani. They were a people so in tune with their own bodies that it was a near-perfection of synergy.

She leaned against the front of her desk, hands resting and holding the ornate curve. Her eyes watched, trying to understand the meaning of this confrontation. Quinn wanted to send her away, to ship her back to wherever Gerwald was.

But Eshan was far away, and she had made the effort. While Quinn disliked the girl, she still had her manners.

"Apprentice Jesart,"

Titles. That's what they were. She had learned, upon her first meeting with Irina, that this was how things were. They weren't allowed to be anything more than titles and hierarchy. As much as it bothered Quinn, she would accept this as the standard for the girl.

Anyone else, Quinn would have corrected them… asked to be called just Quinn…

"To what do I owe your unannounced visit? Did Lord Lechner send you?"

It was a plausible assumption. Though Quinn would have figured he would have sent Aerik. The Pup often jumped at the chance to have any semblance of interaction with the Echani. Their last private meeting often weighed on her conscience. Quinn, the founder, was wondering what she had done and how she could have changed the outcome of his affections.

It wasn't her intention, but he had always held something for her.

No, the more she thought, Gerwald didn't send his apprentice… this had to be her own doing.

Or… Aerik's.

"I am rather busy, so please save me any pleasantries. You and I both know you don't want to be here."

A tight smile crossed the Echani's lips, though she did have one concern.

Her voice softened as she nodded her head in the girl's direction.

"You wound, did it heal well enough?"

 

[Irina Jesart]

Irina took a few measured steps into the room so as not to be hovering near the exit, even though turning around and leaving the room would have been far more enjoyable than staying to endure whatever venom laced words Quinn might find for her today. Every word had to be measured, every reaction had to be controlled. Aerik needed her to fix this, she couldn't let her emotions lead here.

"No one sent me."

Technically, that wasn't true. Technically Aerik's request for her to fix it made her visit his doing, but she wasn't about to give him that credit, mainly because he had been unspecific as to how. She had chosen here because it was away from Sith space because the titles that bound them inside the Blackwall could be easier to set aside here. Quinn was still above her as Queen of Eshan, but she was the last living Jesart, a noble house on Eliad. That gap didn't seem quite so hard to bridge.

She blinked in surprise at the question regarding her wound, her head angling as a frown creased her forehead.

"It did, though if I am being honest, I am surprised you care."

Her gaze drifted to the window as she tried to find the right words, tried to find the right place to start a conversation that she did not want to have as she picked at her nails before realising what she was doing and letting her arms fall loosely to her side as she exhaled her sigh, dark eyes finding the Echani again.

"I came to apologise."

Quinn Varanin

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Irina Jesart //:

Quinn understood the surprise, but she did not understand Irina's intent. Her head would tilt slightly at the mention that no one sent her and that she was here to apologize. Any day, she would have assumed that Gerwald or Aerik would have been the one to send her here. Still, Quinn didn't lash out; she would just nod as she waited, trying to figure everything out.

A small smile followed by a puff of a laugh would break the lingering silence.

"Of course I care." Quinn finally answered. "At the end of the day, you are one of my people… one of my mother's people. So yes, I care."

Remembering that day, Quinn figured the girl wouldn't fully understand the care now, as she didn't then. But she was as tactical as Rin had tried to be that day. Quinn sighed softly, deciding that while the girl had infuriated her, this was a teaching moment.

"You were injured, but not to the point that I needed to worry about you. You could still walk, still defend yourself. If I had healed you, you would have needed to protect me, yourself, and anyone else we found."

Her eyes never met Irina's as she revealed a weakness in the healing she was capable of. It didn't work like the Jedi healing; for a Sith to heal was cannibalization of the Force.

"As you know, the dark side is not about giving life; in essence, it takes and corrupts. But there are ways, but the same concept remains, life is taken to give life."

She didn't elaborate further; if Irina didn't understand, she was allowed to question. But this wasn't why she was here, nor did Quinn expect anything further to come of it. The apology was something she was curious about.

Did she know what she had done? Why did it hurt Quinn? She wanted to laugh, but she'd give the girl a chance.

If anything, for Aerik's sake.

"Anyways, lesson aside, what are you wanting to apologize for?"

 

[Irina Jesart]

Irina’s frown deepened. How was it that anyone could care as much as Quinn did for people she did not even know? Did she actually care? Or was it simply the role of a ruler to present the persona of caring in order to put her people at ease? The question sat on the edge of her tongue, her mouth opening to ask it before she snapped it shut again. She did not want to aggravate Quinn by appearing ignorant. That wasn’t her intent.

Maybe another day, maybe when they understood each other a little more there would be space for such questions, but now? Now, she just needed to focus on laying the foundations.

A small pang of guilt ran through her, squashed violently beneath a proverbial boot as she recalled how she’d believed that Quinn had chosen not to heal her because she disliked her, not because it would have left her weakened.

“I did not realise…” she trailed off, her feet shifting, eyes finding the floor as she swallowed her pride, “I assumed that you chose not to heal me because of how I reacted to you on Kaas, not because it would have weakened you.”

So stupid.

Rin forced herself to look back up, to meet her gaze.

“I am sorry.” Her hands fidgeted behind her back, the anxiety for the conversation breaking through the discipline keeping her rooted to the spot. “I am not good with people. I am good at pretending, at wearing a mask when a mask is needed and I can navigate my way through a political mine field but, people on a personal level?”

She shook her head, letting the explanation sit as she tried to find the right words. “You tried to extend a branch of friendship or acquaintanceship on Kaas and I spurned it. Not because I do not think you are deserving, but because my station is so far below yours that I am not deserving of it.”

Quinn Varanin

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Irina Jesart //:

Quinn quietly contemplated the girl's apology. Both of them seemed to show the girl's intelligence and understanding. She couldn't fault her further because of duty and the roles that are burned into their minds growing up. Irina, like Quinn, grew up understanding what duty meant, what sacrifices were necessary to succeed in those duties. Their choices were not their own; they were the choices that affected hundreds… millions of lives.

With just that apology, Quinn understood, and her face softened from the hardened annoyance she felt from the visit. No longer did she bother with this being for Aerik Lechner . No, this was for Irina above all. The girl deserved a chance to become something greater than her supposed station. Quinn believed it, knowing that people worth sitting at the table knew the fight for it.

"I accept your apology." Quinn finally spoke, her voice threading with a softness that Irina would have only heard when she spoke with Aerik.

"On one condition." The Echani Queen stepped forward, away from her desk, and raised a finger to add emphasis.

"You stop lowering yourself below something that does not exist." She expected an argument, but she waved her hand as if to silence the girl before her lips parted.

"A lady of the Sith should never diminish herself so easily. You are the apprentice of a Dark Councilor. Do not lower yourself beneath others simply because they wear a crown or carry a title." A smile curled at her lips as she scoffed.

"And please never lower yourself because they're a man or for man. Weakness begins the moment you decide that you are lesser."

She stopped her steps halfway towards the girl as she bowed her head slightly, hands carefully held behind her back.

"Queens and Empresses are not owed your submission. Let them earn your loyalty, your respect and devotion. Those things should never be given freely."

There was a conviction in the woman's voice, despite being someone who was raised with a silver spoon in her mouth and never left to want or need. She believed that at the end of it all, they were all equal. The force had no favor for one or the other; it was just there.

"One's station does not mean someone is better than the other. Please never forget that. You are worthy of whatever you desire in this galaxy and lifetime, Irina Jesart; do not force yourself to pay for the sins of others or lower yourself to be small so that you can survive."

Advice that Quinn knew she should follow herself, but it was always easier to give the advice than take it. It was at that moment that the Queen of Eshan, Princess and Heir of the Sith Order, realized the similarities between them.

"With that now dealt with, would you like to learn how I heal others?"

 

[Irina Jesart]

Quinn Varanin

Irina blinked in surprise. Not at the acceptance of the apology but at the condition it came with. She did not dismiss it, nor did she open her mouth to argue, despite Quinn’s obvious expectation for her to do so. She listened with a contemplative expression, a touch of pride flashing behind her eyes at the mention of her station as Gerwald’s apprentice, straightening slightly as she did.

It was a station she worked hard at to be worthy of every day, determined not to take it for granted. Though perhaps, that was why she had diminished herself so much. The circumstances in which she had become Gerwald’s apprentice did not make her worthy. She had burned an entire household in a fit of rage, placing Aerik in danger, knowing that her actions would have had them both punished severely upon return to the Academy.

Gerwald had saved her from herself.

For a long moment, Irina said nothing, quietly processing her words before taking in a small breath and releasing it in a small sigh.

“Thank you.” she replied quietly “I think I had forgotten…” she trailed off shaking her head as her eyes shifted away to the window. “Women in my society were always lesser. Objects to be bartered for alliances. My father did everything in his power to carve a different life for me, but his protection did not stretch beyond his death.”

Dark eyes shifted back to Quinn, the faintest of smiles flickering across her expression. “I had forgotten his lessons, so thank you for reminding me.”

Her feet shifted, carefully as her gaze flicked to the floor, uncomfortable with the personal revelation she had made, but the offer to learn something new, from someone who was not Gerwald was too good an opportunity to pass up. She corrected herself, her posture returning to that of an attentive student, the glimpse of the woman beneath shrinking back behind a carefully constructed mask.

“I would love to understand it, at the very least.” She answered finally.