Private Pebbles & Snowflakes

[Kära Hearthfire]

​

Woodland Realm of Averlorn
World of Midvinter

A lone spirit was said to stalk the deep woods of the elven queendom, her heart ever-broken from a loss too unbearable to comprehend. The woman bore a face marked by the march of time she'd weathered stoically, yet beautiful. Some proclaim her to be a witch, luring stray wanderers to stay at her cottage never to be seen again. Brewing potions from the remains of her victims, and other such foolish notions she did not concern herself with.

The truth?

Once, she was known as Darth Kairos; the Shadowmancer, the Mistress of Puppets, and the Wielder of Ashen Rage. Sith alchemy and matters of the mind were her domain, and when provoked she would unleash upon her enemies her brutish servant, the Sith Lord Darth Taral, eternally loyal and rage unbridled. Together master and apprentice ruled a shadow empire of their own, acting on their own hidden agenda. Kairos' influence was vast; a network of spies and moles operating with absolute secrecy across the known galaxy. She was little more than a girl, but she held great sway in the course of many a world's fates. Always serving her own needs.

This is not all she was, however.

She was also a wife, and later a mother. She was hailed as a Queen of Midvinter; the Phoenix King, Thyrian the Uniter, Son of Thrand, was her husband. What now remained of her in the wake of her beloved's passing, she could not say. Was she but a shadow of her former self, or merely too lost to grief to recognise herself? Alive, but no longer among the living. Her heart was in shambles, yet somehow still beating. Fresh air brought her no comfort, yet she still drew breath all the same. With her husband gone and her son married to the Queen of Averlorn, becoming her Prince-Consort, Kära was content living out the rest of her days in obscurity among the Elves, allowing her son to build for her a humble abode out in the woods where none would disturb her mourning.

She now stalks the surrounding wilderness, occupying herself with the gathering of herbs and the brewing of potions and poisons alike. Her keen mind remained, despite all she had endured. After one such journey, the moss-cloaked woman returned to her cottage underneath her tree, carrying within her palm a poor little owlet plagued with a broken wing.

The presence of a white steed grazing outside her hut caused her suspicious nature to kick in, and she entered her abode with a drawn dagger.

Within there stood a towering figure, hooded and draped in a thick wolf pelt. Light on her feet as she was, she drew nearer while the stranger's back was turned. What stopped her dead in her stride was the flash of a golden lion against an azure cloak. The sigil of the current High King of Midvinter. Her breath caught in her throat as her dagger fell to her side, just as the hooded stranger stood and slowly turned, holding something small and smooth in the palm of his gloved hand.

"You kept it," the man said unphased by her sudden presence. Sitting in his palm was but a little pebble, belonging to another world entirely. "All this time..."

Kära threw the dagger to the floor and rushed into his arms, still clutching the baby owl against her bosom. Overcome with emotion, a trembling voice uttered the name of her first and only friend since childhood.

"...Thurion!"

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

The war-weary king clung to his oldest friend, resting his bearded chin upon her head of white. At times like these, he could just close his eyes and journey back to a time of that young innocence he'd done his best to treasure even in his seventies. Despite the galaxy's best efforts to jade him, he still allowed that childlike part of him to surface whenever fitting for the situation. This was one of those times when being reunited with Kära sent him back to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, both of them no older than eight years of age and yet to experience what their destinies would impose upon them.

"Of course I kept it," she whimpered, turning his sleeve damp with tears of both joyous and sorrowful origin. Holding him like this was the closest she would come to holding her beloved again. "I brought it wherever the fates sent me. At times it was all I had..."

Caressing the back of her head, Thurion cast an eye down at the discarded dagger stuck to the floorboard. "Were you... Were you trying to stab me in back, just then?" Kära scoffed and wriggled out of his embrace, achieving for Thurion the intended reaction. Rather than offer an apology, she extended her arm and willed the dagger back into the palm of her hand only to set it aside on a nearby table. "As if you'd have let me," she teased back.

The little owlet shrugged its wings in her grasp, one crooked and slightly bent out of shape, alerting him to its presence amidst their heartfelt reunion. "Who's your little friend? That looks like it hurts," he pointed to its broken wing. Kära did her best to comfort the chick, petting its feathery head.

"I found him out there stuck in a thicket. Figured he most likely fell when attempting his first flight, or perhaps one of his siblings kicked him out of the nest. Poor thing was making the most painful noise I just had to check it out. I was going to try one of my medicines on him, but..."

As if on instinct, Thurion stepped right up to the baby owl with the same care and respect as he would a sentient patient. There was no need to ask for favours, least of all when someone was suffering. Albeit not an expert zoologist, he knew a broken limb when he saw it. Man or beast, it made little difference.

First, he grasped his patient's good wing by its tip to spread it to its fullest extent. Then, he attempted to do the same to the other. The owlet let out a pained chirp and the wing retracted, snapping back to its body. "Give him to me," he asked of a spellbound Kära, recognising that familiar gaze instilling the most intense trust in anyone caught in its path. Surrendering the little one to her childhood friend, she lowered herself onto the lone chair by the table and just watched.

Cradling the owlet on his arm, Thurion closed his eyes whilst fingertips repeatedly danced across the broken wing, caressing the soft feathers with the lightest touch. A few moments later, he leaned down and whispered: "Fly, my friend."

With a gentle urging on, the baby owl spread its wings and took flight. Kära looked on in awe as it circled the room several times before settling on her shoulder with a grateful hoot. Her amazement eventually faded, replaced by a look of defeat as she slumped back in her chair. Noticing, Thurion sat down beside her and placed a hand on her knee.

"The Light eludes me yet, sweet brother. For all my knowledge of the Force, I can never learn to heal the sick or mend the wounded. The Dark still looms like a shadow, I cannot seem to completely rid myself of its stain. Perhaps it is what I deserve, given my past sins."

 

[Kära Hearthfire]

Feebly she raised her hand to pet the owlet on her shoulder, after which her new feathery friend soared over to the top shelf of Kära's collection of potions, finding an empty spot where it made a temporary roost. She smiled, briefly. For a time, it seemed to have slipped her mind that her brother-in-law was standing right in front of her.

Her grief was palpable; as if a thick cloud hung over her person, looming like an oppressive shadow.

Before he could speak, Kära beat him to it. "So, what can I do for you," she changed the subject. "You did not go through the trouble of tracking me down and coming all this way just to keep me company." The way her back straightened anew and her legs crossed neatly at the ankles, Thurion recognised the lady who had been his Queen for the last two decades. The natural chill in her voice only added to the regality.

He, in turn, stood straight and true as if just another petitioner to the crown.

"It concerns... the Vinterbound," he began, realising just then he hadn't rehearsed his request. Any sane person might well think him insane for what he was about to say. Kära did not flinch at the mention of the hated enemy of their people. "Continue."

"Over the last year or so, we've received increasing reports that the Vinterbound are gathering strength, and have been sighted more often the last six months than in the last 20 years following their defeat at Tháinbroek." A painful memory, as it was where his father met his end.

"I took Alva Heavenshield out on horseback to find answers, but as it happened the answer found us first."

As he took a step forward, she could tell from his features it was important what came next. "Thurion, what happened?"

"We were approached by a lone figure by the name of Dáinn. Kära... he was Vinterbound; and yet he spoke, he emoted, he dreamt. Alva and I listened as he imparted to us their reason for their slow push southward. According to Dáinn, they wish to be rid of their curse and turned mortal men once more, or die trying. I told him there and then that I held no such knowledge; that necromancy was impossible for a Jedi."

Kära rose from her chair, struck with the realisation as to why he'd sought her out.

"But not for a Sith," she uttered the natural follow-up to his last sentence. Thurion could but hung his head in shame for having even insinuated it.

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

Kära had always been challenging to read, her cold expression leaving little to interpretation. No doubt she'd had to develop the skill in her youth to thrive among and outlast her Sith peers. It seemed at the time the few things capable of breaking through that stone wall she'd erected around herself were seeing her oldest friend again, or the mention of her deceased husband.

She walked past him with an expressionless stare, halting by the window to look outside without uttering another word.

"I'm sorry," said Thurion softly with the overwhelming sense that he'd disappointed her, not unlike a schoolboy apologising to their teacher.

"Before we parted ways, I made a solemn vow that I would exhaust every option. That being I spoke to out in the woods wasn't some hellish creature, he was a person. I looked into his eyes and I saw someone having faced seven millennia on this earth in constant torture, teetering on the brink of feral insanity and holding onto the last pieces of his immortal soul. He can't be the only one; what if every single undead out there suffers the same fate, and has for thousands of years?"

Thurion sidled up to Kära by the window, leaning on the sill. What he'd just described seemed like such distant worries in this paradise of green.

"Those poor sods were once men of Midvinter, same as any of us. They deserve their time in the sun; their chance to stand before the All-Father and repent." A powerful statement from the son of the man now hailed as the Lord of Sunlight, whose life was cut short by the very same undead. Powerful enough to affect Kära, who carefully wrapped her arms around his and leaned into his shoulder. For a time the two lifelong friends remained there, finding solace in each other's presence.

"What will you call him?" A sudden change of topic, humorous and unexpected enough to force a faint laugh from her lips. The owlet had since closed its round eyes and drifted into a soft slumber where it sat.

"I don't know," she replied at first. Chewing on her lip for but a moment, she came up with one on the spot. "Pebble."

Seeing and hearing that brief moment of levity on her face and in her voice meant the world to the small boy who only ever wished to make a frightened, white-haired young girl smile, once upon a time.

"That's the Snowflake I remember," he beamed a boyish grin back at her. She too smiled brighter than before and took his hand in hers.

"Stay with me tonight," she asked of him. "Let's just be two children hiding away, dreaming as they stare up into that Coruscant sky. I miss that."

Thinking it best not to press the matter of his visit any further, the blonde boy nodded as time flashed back to the innocence of childhood. "I would like that very much."

Kära hooked her arms behind his neck as the pair embraced a second time, and would remain in such a state for an entire minute of unbroken silence.

 

[Kära Hearthfire]

The crisp air of Midvinter brought with it some of the most starry night skies one could possibly imagine. A million tiny dots littered the heavens, like a swarm of fireflies dancing upon an untouched pond. A lifetime ago, back on Coruscant, the two friends spent their finite number of evenings together gazing up at the stars, tracking arriving and departing starships with childlike wonder.

Yet Coruscant, with all its splendour and historic significance, paled when compared to the unbridled magnificence of Midvinter; a world so full of endless hardship that something as simple as the stars at night could instil such comfort in the hearts and minds of its denizens. To grant them the satisfaction that they'd survived another day of toil, as well as the reassurance that they would live to see another.

It meant more to Kära now than ever before that she receive these same comforts.

"That one," she pointed. Thurion squinted to find the exact star she referred to.

"Oh, I know that one," he leaned back on both arms and crossed his legs. "Yeah, Burt."

"Burt," she snorted and burst into a giggle. "It is not named Burt! Of all things-- You're not taking this seriously at all!"

Thurion shared in the giggling, feeling that delightful tickle in your tummy when overcome with laughter. Only once the hilarity waned on its own did he take another stab at it.

"Felucia," he corrected, knowing the answer full well. He raised his hand and pointed to several others, naming them one by one. "Rhen Var, Voss, Kessel, Nar Shaddaa..." His tone of voice turned slightly more serious the more worlds he named. "Corellia. Kashyyyk. Alderaan. Coruscant. Dromund Kaas. Korriban. Tython..."

The listing of names, while intended as a fun game to while away the night, had become a moment of reflection to the pair, as both went quiet soon thereafter. Whereas in their youth they shared in the joy of imagining all these places, as well-travelled adults the pair had their own experiences and impressions of said worlds, good or bad.

"Are you happy, Thurion," she turned her head where they lay in the tall grass to study the face of her childhood friend. "When all is said and done, are you glad the way your life turned out?"

He swallowed hard, having to process a tidal wave of memories in the blink of an eye. He too turned his head to face her.

"I think so. I've lost many people I care about to tragedy, and at times it overwhelms me. But then I look at Coci, my kids and grandkids, and I feel this sense of accomplishment. I realise I'm one of the lucky ones; that there are plenty of people worse off than me out there. I think of all those faces I've known, who died young and never had the chance to settle down and simply live. To love and be loved. I guess... yeah, I am happy."

Kära offered him a smile, then looked back up at the night sky.

"Are you... happy?"

The smile gradually faded from her lips as a heavy silence swept over the pair.

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

"I don't..." the Dowager Queen stumbled over her own thoughts as she scrambled to get up on her feet, desperate to claw her way out of where the conversation was heading. She felt she wasn't ready. Or, perhaps she was simply afraid to face her grief.

Just as she excused herself and turned to walk away, her childhood friend stood and defied her desire for privacy. "Do not turn me aside, Lady Hearthfire," he demanded of her. The commanding tone of his voice took her by such surprise that it caused her to tense up and halt mid-stride.

There was a small part of Thurion that felt enough was enough; that he would not let one of the few friends he had left succumb to the deepest pits of despair so easily. There was an even greater part of him, however, that knew the correct course of action was to force her to face the harsh truth so that her heart might finally mend.

"You can't even speak his name, can you? Why?" Frankly frustrated, he marched up to her to put a hand on her shoulder, only for her to shrug it off.

"Thyrian is dead, Kära. He's gone and there is nothing you or I or anyone can do about it, no matter how hard we want to. I know he was your husband, but he was my brother; the first pair of eyes I saw the moment I had eyes with which to see, and who single-handedly raised me on Pelagon. He was FIVE, on his own in the GUTTER with no one to turn to, and he successfully fed and raised an INFANT! Hell, he's the reason I chose to undergo training as a Jedi in the first place! He was everything to me! But I kept going because I knew he would never forgive me for giving up on him. I pushed myself to be the best I could be so that I might somehow repay his sacrifice. I made a life for myself, built on the strength his loss imbued me with. I found love, and I swore I would never let my grief cause me to turn away those I care about. I wouldn't let it define me."

She could not listen to this anymore and tried to slip away, only for Thurion to grab hold of both her shoulders and make her face him. "Let me go, I don't want to hear--!"

"No. Say his name. Speak the name of your husband, the father of your child, who gave his life to save every living thing on this planet because he believed that was his purpose." The distress on her face would shift bit by bit, gradually giving way to the tears she'd denied herself for so long.

"Remember him, Kära. Remind yourself of every moment you two had together, and bring them to the forefront of your mind. Recall the warmth of his embrace and the good nature of his heart. Don't push them away any longer. Let them all out--"

"THYRIAN," she finally shouted in his face as tears broke free of the corners of her eyes. She power with which she uttered his name nearly took the strength out of her legs, had it not been for Thurion to hold her upright.

"Thyrian, I'm sorry," she blurted out between sobs as she collapsed into his arms, weeping uncontrollably. "I'm sorry! My Ashborn; My Phoenix! Forgive me!" Her brother merely held her, patiently stroking the back of her head as if comforting a small child.

"I just want to tell him... how much I love him. Just one last time," she continued her tearful confession. "I want to see his face, to touch him. But he's never coming back, and it hurts! It hurts so much! You have no idea, the pain of getting your heart ripped out and your soul torn to shreds in an instant... There wasn't enough time, Thurion. We didn't get enough time."

Cupping her wet cheeks, he looked into those sad, sad eyes with nothing but heartfelt empathy.

"I know, Snowflake. None of us did."

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, pale as the moon.

"Weep for him, Kära. Mourn him; do not bury him. One day, we will both see him again."

She paused and looked up at him with eyes reddened with tears, looking for a ray of hope in her greatest friend. "Where is he now, do you think?"

Thurion turned his gaze to the night sky and the millions of lights dotting it, prompting her to follow suit.

"At night, find the one star burning brighter than all its peers. That is where you will find him in the mighty company of the Kings and Queens of Old. Know that as sure as that star will always be there, so shall the Phoenix King watch over us. And when our time comes, our spirits will form stars of their own to join him."

Gently he slid his thumb across her cheek, wiping away the latest tear to grace her pale skin.

"Nobody is ever really gone, Snowflake."

Comforted by his words, Kära would seek the warmth of his embrace, no longer sobbing but instead shedding tears in silence. Finally, she understood her fascination with stargazing.

"I'd like to think that."

 

[Kära Hearthfire]

Kära woke up alone the following day, having been lulled to sleep by her brother's kind words and having slept long into the day. With blurry vision, she scanned the room whilst sitting upright, feeling drained from the flood of emotion he'd evoked from her the night before. Getting out of bed, she felt lighter than she'd ever had since before her husband's passing. Manoeuvring around her home was like floating in the air, until finding a note left for her on the kitchen table.

My Dear Sister,

Didn't want to wake you. Went to the Palace to visit with your son and the Queen before I make the journey home. You can find me there until our Great Father begins his descent.

Forgive me, Snowflake. I shouldn't have asked.

May the Force be with you,

Your Brother Thurion.

A soft hoot brought her attention to the little owlet still sitting up on her top shelf, amongst potions and brews. "Good morning, Pebble," she smiled, reminded of the events from yesterday. Holding out her hand to see whether he would care to fly down to her, the wee owl spread his wings and soared from its improvised nest not towards her, but rather towards the door slightly ajar. Astonished, Kära followed him out the door and watched as her new friend flew east through the woods.

Kära at first felt a pang of sorrow, thinking she'd lost the only company she kept as soon as she'd found it. Then it hit her.

"East. Towards the Palace."

Only then did she notice the horse she'd found outside her abode the day before, the one she believed belonged to Thurion, was still there grazing to its heart's content. Piecing two-and-two together, she smiled as she sighed.

"Oh, Brother," she walked up to the grey steed and stroked its mane before pressing her face to its warm neck. "He's beautiful. Ash," she named it there and then in honour of her late husband.

"We ride," she instructed her new steed as she leapt onto his back and grabbed hold of his ashen mane. Turning him towards the direction in which Pebble had flown, her bare feet urged Ash to take flight himself, riding as hard as the woodland terrain permitted. Over stone and under trees did they travel, until reaching a clearing farther inland. There she found little Pebble hooting up on a branch, seemingly awaiting her arrival.

"I thought I'd lost you," she sighed with relief as the owlet soared down to find a place upon her shoulder, nuzzling up against her cheek.

Then, as she gazed out at the sight laid before her, she understood. A frozen lake, vast in size and shining like an azure jewel amidst a sea of green. Beyond there awaited the Woodland Palace; the seat of the Queen and the heart of elvendom on this earth. "You brought me here. Both of you. You knew."

Eyes turned skyward, locating the sun nearing its zenith.

"It's almost midday. We can still make it."

The wise avian set off once more through the woods, guiding Kära as she and Ash further traversed the terrain in the hopes of reaching the Palace before Thurion could depart Averlorn for the Westmark. If only to thank him, she needed to see him one last time.

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

Caer Amleth. The heart of elvendom on Midvinter. The seat of the Lady of the Lake. Its serenity and prosperity stand out like a green jewel amidst the harsh wilderness that holds the rest of the world in its wintery grasp. It is a place of diplomats, scholars, writers and musicians, each exploring the depths of the mortal soul and the history of those that came before, all in the service of a better tomorrow. For an outsider to attend the recital of one of its great poets is ranked among the highest of honours, and one the High King himself would treasure for all time.

"Bravo, bravo," he hailed the poet as the final line had rung out, rising to give a standing ovation alongside a courtyard of courtiers and handmaidens. The Queen, however, was forced to remain seated due to her delicate state, relying on her Prince-Consort to stand on her behalf.

"Incredible, absolutely incredible," he approached the bard with open arms. "A true testament to the power of the spoken word!" Grateful, the poet offered a gracious bow before standing down, blending with the rest of the crowd. For but a moment Thurion gazed towards the west, hoping to spy a familiar white-haired lady upon an ashen steed. The sun had all but reached its zenith, indicating that it was time he got back to Heavenheim. He mustn't disappoint his own lady back home.

"We are greatly pleased you enjoyed it so, Your Grace," said a delighted Queen Ióunn from atop her throne, hand resting upon the large bump beneath her dress. "Too rarely do we get to entertain outsiders; instil in them the virtues of our people and culture. I bet that poet considered it more of an honour than yourself, even."

The Lion climbed the steps of her throne to kiss her hand. "Must you be going so soon, Thurion?"

"I'm afraid so, Your Majesty. I promised Coci I'd be home before dinner, today happens to be our fortieth anniversary. Nothing could keep me from her, today of all days. Not even this wonderful bundle of joy," he knelt before her to place a second kiss, this time intended for the little one housed within her.

"Have you thought of a name," he asked Thrand by her side. "If it's a boy, Eregon. After his grandfather." Ióunn looked up, smiling fondly at her father's mention. "We've yet to decide on a girl's name."

As Thurion stood Ióunn caught him by the sleeve and pulled him into an embrace before he could leave her presence. "May the Force be with you, sweet child," he whispered past her elven ear, wishing her good fortune on the inevitable delivery of the baby. "Do not hesitate to call on me if needed. I am at your service."

"Blessings of the Frostvatn upon thee, Great Lion."

Bidding farewell to the young queen, her Prince-Consort walked him through the courtyard and the many courtiers present until they were by themselves. Several times he caught himself thinking just how much of his brother he saw in the young man. "You didn't understand a word the man said, did you," his nephew spoke under his breath.

"Oh gods, no," he confessed. The pair laughed. "But their meaning was not lost to me."

"I can't tell you how good it is to see you again, Uncle. The last we saw of each other was..." His father's funeral. He hadn't the heart to speak the words aloud. "Aye, it has been too long," Thurion agreed. "We must take greater care to spend more time together. The same blood yet runs in our veins; you and Thirdas were inseparable growing up. And now with your first baby on the way..."

"Uncle," he stopped them in the middle of the road. "I don't... I hope it's not too forward of me to ask, but... I am worried that my child will grow up without a grandparent. Ióunn lost her mother and father, and with my own mother being... Well, you know. I was hoping that you might take on the role, you and Auntie Coci..."

"Sold," Thurion abruptly accepted with a sharp nod, as if having undertaken a duty of great importance. "But you are wrong, Nephew," he placed a hand on his shoulder.

"She's still your mother. Nothing is more joyous to a parent than holding their very own grandchild. Something tells me you'll hear from her very soon."

The sound of pounding hooves drew their gaze towards the arched entrance...

 

[Kära Hearthfire]

The ash-grey stallion thundered forth up the streets of the elven capital, forcing its peaceful citizens to vacate the road or risk getting trampled underneath its hooves, all the while its rider warned man, woman and child as best she could without slowing or hindering her advance, her mind was so single-mindedly focused on reaching her beloved brother before he might depart.

She came to a screeching halt upon entering the archway entrance to the palace courtyard where she was met by not only Thurion but her own son as well. There was an inner sigh of relief, but also slight dread of so suddenly seeing Thrand again. They'd barely spoken since the events that had claimed the life of her husband - his father.

Kära decided it was worth feeling uncomfortable if it meant being able to see her childhood friend off.

"Thurion!" She lept off her horse, taking it by the reins.

"Mother?" A quick look at his uncle prompted a wink from the elder towards the young Prince-Consort looking quite baffled at the sudden turn of events. He watched as Kära marched up to the High King, offering only the briefest of glances as she passed him by.

"I was wondering when you'd get here. You just missed a lovely recital of elven poems," Thurion teased his oldest friend by nonchalantly gesturing behind him towards the palace where the event had taken place. She just beamed a smile at him and caressed Ash's nose beside her face.

"I found your note and I thought I'd missed you. But when I saw you left poor Ash behind, I put two and two together," she explained. "Thank you."

A hoot was heard from atop a branch where the little owlet had taken respite. "Did you mean for me to find Pebble yesterday, as well," she asked with genuine curiosity. Thurion simply shrugged. "The Force moves in mysterious ways. Perhaps it felt you needed a friend, someone to look after." Not entirely convinced he wasn't the architect behind it all, she accepted the answer given for now. Companionship was indeed something she'd lacked dearly since the passing of her husband.

Thurion shot a glance up at the midday sun. "It is high time that I set off. There is something you must do for me before I go, Kära." Gently he took her by both shoulders and spun her around to look at her son standing there awkwardly. "Your boy needs you. Go to him." He took the reins from her.

There she saw the man fully grown, bearded and with a long mane of pristine white hair much like hers. This young man had already experienced the grim nature of war and shed blood for the fate of the realm, and was already married with a child on the way. He seemed so unlike the small babe she once held to her bosom, at least at first glance. She drew closer still and took Thrand's hand, gasping at the familiar touch. Looking up into his emerald eyes, she saw the face of her late beloved husband.

"I'm here, sweetie," she whimpered while wrapping her arms around his wide frame, and he was quick to return the embrace. "I'm not going anywhere. Not anymore."