Private Quiet Galleries

[Meri Vale]

Meri smiled when Solon turned the critique back on her, although the accusation that there was an artist hiding somewhere in her notes earned him a mildly skeptical look. "I think you're trying very hard to prove your point now," she said, but there was no real disagreement behind it anymore. She looked briefly toward the sketch he'd indicated, seeing it differently after everything they'd discussed. Maybe he was right. She still wasn't going to start calling herself an artist, but apparently she wasn't quite as objective as she'd thought either. "Fine. Maybe there's a very small artist hiding in there. Somewhere underneath all the measurements."

Her attention returned to his sketchbook as he identified the portraits. Meri listened without interrupting, looking at each face again after Solon gave it a name. Knowing who they were changed them almost immediately. His grandmother. His father. His mother. His parents together. She could see now why those first drawings had felt different, even if she still couldn't identify exactly what Solon had done to create that difference. They weren't simply people he'd noticed. They were people he'd known well enough that he hadn't needed to wonder who they were when he began drawing them.

Then she reached Freia.

Meri's eyes moved from the portrait to Solon when he admitted who she was actually looking at, surprise appearing openly on her face. She looked back at the auburn-haired girl and studied the drawing again, this time searching for Solon within it. Once she knew there were similarities she could find, that wasn't what held her attention for long. It was his explanation. A different name. A different appearance. An identity created because being himself had become dangerous, which had lasted long enough that it stopped feeling like something he could simply discard when it wasn't needed anymore.

Something inside Meri went very still. "I understand that," she said quietly.

For several seconds, that was all she offered. Her gaze remained on Freia rather than Solon, the portrait suddenly feeling considerably more personal than it had a moment before. Meri Vale wasn't quite the same as Freia Kaella. She hadn't changed herself in all the ways Solon had needed to, but the name still belonged to the life she'd built after everything before it had fallen apart. It had begun because another name, another identity, carried things she hadn't wanted following her. Somewhere along the way, Meri had stopped thinking of it as merely something she was hiding behind.

Her eyes finally lifted to his. "Meri Vale isn't the name I was born with." There was a little hesitation in admitting it, but strangely less than she would have expected. Solon had just trusted her with Freia. Keeping this entirely to herself suddenly felt unfair. "It was supposed to separate me from who I was before. Give me somewhere to start again where nobody already knew everything that came with my old name." She hesitated, only briefly, before giving him something she rarely offered anyone anymore. "My name was Merindai Tiravel."

Saying it aloud felt strange. Not wrong, exactly, but like speaking the name of someone she knew intimately and hadn't seen in years. She glanced down at the portrait once more. "But I've been Meri long enough that it doesn't feel false anymore. It's just...me." She didn't explain why Merindai Tiravel had needed to become Meri Vale. Not yet. Somehow, though, she thought Solon might understand why a person could leave a name behind without leaving every part of the person who had carried it.

A small smile returned as she considered Freia's clothing and Solon's final comment. "So I think I understand why you drew her." Then her smile grew a little more playful. "Although now I'm curious what you would actually wear if that were too bold."

Solon Rey

 

[Solon Rey]

Objective: Take in the artistry
Location: Cities Remember exhibit
Outfit: Simple Outfit
Tags: Meri Vale

Solon chuckled at Meri's accusation, entirely willing to concede the point. "Perhaps I am." He gave a small shrug, the smile lingering on his face. "But I've become rather fond of the thought of you as an artist and an archaeologist." There was something about the combination that suited her in his mind. The careful scholar who measured walls and catalogued fragments, but who couldn't resist giving a little more attention to an arch simply because she thought it beautiful.

When Meri finally conceded that perhaps a very small artist existed somewhere beneath all those measurements, Solon's expression brightened triumphantly. "I'll accept that." For now. "Perhaps if we spend enough time together, you'll anchor me a little closer to reality..." His smile turned playful. "...and I'll convince you to float a little further toward the clouds." He considered the arrangement before giving an approving nod. "We can hover comfortably somewhere in the middle."

The levity faded somewhat when their conversation turned to Freia. Solon had expected questions. Perhaps shock. Maybe even a little teasing. There were certainly enough opportunities for it. An eighteen-year-old young man admitting he'd once escaped Coruscant disguised as a younger girl wasn't exactly an everyday confession. Instead Meri simply said she understood.

Solon's lavender eyes remained on her. Of all the reactions he'd imagined, that one surprised him most. Then she explained. He listened without interrupting as Meri Vale became Merindai Tiravel for the first time in his mind. His expression softened. He didn't ask why. She hadn't asked why his family had needed to flee Coruscant, or demanded every detail of the circumstances surrounding Freia. Solon could recognize when someone was offering trust without necessarily offering the entire story.

"Merindai Tiravel," he repeated quietly, committing it to memory. Then his eyes met hers. "I won't tell anyone." The promise came without hesitation. "That's yours to share, not mine."

He looked down toward the portrait of Freia again. "And I think I understand." His thumb brushed thoughtfully along the edge of Meri's tablet. "A new beginning can be a good thing. Sometimes I think becoming someone else for a while gives you the chance to decide which parts of the person you were are actually worth carrying forward." A small smile appeared. "But I admit I was glad when I could start calling myself Solon again."

His gaze wandered briefly toward the gallery around them. "After the Sith started squabbling amongst themselves over who would control the Core, the ones my family were hiding me from eventually lost. I don’t think the Sith Covenant care who I am. So, I'd like to believe my identity is safe now." There was hope in the statement rather than certainty. "Safe enough that Freia can stay in my sketchbook, at least."

Then Meri asked what he had actually worn. Solon's composure immediately disappeared. His cheeks turned pink. "I..." He glanced toward the portrait as though Freia might somehow provide assistance. "Well." His blush deepened. "Skirts." He cleared his throat. "And tights." There. He'd admitted it. "I usually wore rather baggy tops, though."

A giggle escaped him, some of the embarrassment dissolving into amusement. "I had certain... practical limitations." Solon gestured vaguely toward his chest before laughing again. "I certainly couldn't convincingly wear anything that showed cleavage."

His gaze dropped back toward Freia. The embarrassment in his expression gradually became something more thoughtful. "Though strangely..." His head tilted. "I always imagined Freia would've enjoyed showing off occasionally." That realization had always amused him. Freia had existed to disappear into crowds, yet in Solon's mind she'd developed preferences that directly contradicted her purpose.

"Nothing outrageous," he added quickly. "But a pretty skirt. Nice tights. Jewelry. Something colorful instead of another oversized refugee jumper." His smile became almost affectionate as he regarded the portrait. "She spent her entire existence being told not to attract attention." Solon glanced toward Meri. "So naturally, somewhere in my head, she became someone who would've enjoyed getting a little."

A quiet laugh followed. "Which probably says something terribly complicated about me." His eyes flickered toward the sketchbook still in Meri's hands. "But since we've established that the viewer gets to decide what the art means..."

His smile became teasing. "...I'm absolutely not helping you figure out what."

 

[Meri Vale]

There was something unexpectedly strange about hearing Solon repeat her old name. Meri had known what she was giving him when she said it, but hearing Merindai Tiravel in someone else's voice made it feel more real than simply remembering it. For a moment she watched him, searching almost automatically for some change in the way he looked at her. There wasn't one that she could see. More importantly, he didn't ask the question she'd half expected to follow.

Why?

Instead, he promised to keep it to himself.

"Thank you." The words were quiet but sincere. Meri looked down at Freia again while Solon spoke about choosing which pieces of an old identity were worth carrying forward. She understood that too, although her own choice had ended differently. "I think I prefer Meri." A small smile touched her mouth. "Merindai doesn't feel like someone else exactly. I remember being her. I just don't think I want to go back to being her."

Part of that was simply because Meri Vale had become comfortable. It was the name attached to school, archaeology, the friends she'd made, and the life she was building for herself. There was another reason, though, and Solon's explanation about Coruscant brought it uncomfortably close to the surface. "There are still people who would remember the Tiravel name," she admitted. "So I think Merindai needs to stay where Freia is for now. Somewhere safe." She hesitated before adding, "Maybe some of the same Sith you were hiding from, actually. Or people like them." She didn't explain further. Solon had given her the courtesy of leaving the rest alone, and she trusted that he would understand the boundary without her having to draw it.

His increasingly embarrassed explanation of what Freia had actually worn gradually pulled Meri away from the heavier thought. The pink creeping into his cheeks made it difficult not to smile, although she managed not to laugh at him. There wasn't anything particularly funny about skirts or tights anyway. What interested her more was the way he spoke about Freia afterward, as though the girl had developed opinions entirely independent of the practical reason she'd been created.

"I think she sounds like she became more than a disguise," Meri said, looking between the portrait and Solon. "You made her because you needed somebody who wouldn't be noticed, and then somewhere along the way you decided she would've hated not being noticed." Her smile widened. "Which is a little inconvenient."

She studied the portrait again, considering his challenge. If Solon wasn't going to help her interpret his own art, then apparently she was permitted to come to whatever conclusion she wanted. "Maybe Freia got to want things you couldn't while you were hiding," she suggested. "You had to worry about whether somebody noticed you, so she got to be the person who wanted them to." Meri glanced up at him, clearly enjoying herself now. "Or maybe you secretly like pretty skirts and jewelry. You said I'm allowed to decide what the art means, so you can't tell me I'm wrong."

Solon Rey

 

[Solon Rey]

Objective: Take in the artistry
Location: Cities Remember exhibit
Outfit: Simple Outfit
Tags: Meri Vale

Solon answered Meri's thanks with a small nod. They had both placed something in the other's hands that could have remained safely hidden. Freia was no longer particularly dangerous, he hoped, but Merindai Tiravel apparently still might be. "We've trusted each other," he said softly. "Knowing about Freia is probably safer for me now than knowing about Merindai is for you." His expression turned thoughtful. "But neither of us knows what the galaxy will look like tomorrow. So we keep both safe."

Meri's preference for the person she had become made perfect sense to him. "I think fresh starts can be good things." His eyes dipped briefly toward Freia's portrait. "Leaving the past behind isn't easy. But just because something was difficult to leave doesn't mean you want to go back to it."

When she admitted there were still people who might remember Tiravel—perhaps even the same sorts of Sith Solon himself had once feared—his smile faded. He gave a sad little nod. "I've never heard the name Tiravel before today." He hoped there was some reassurance in that. "So it won't be difficult for me to let it disappear again."

Then, after a moment: "Unless you want to talk about it someday." There was no question attached to the offer. No invitation that demanded an answer now.

He was grateful when the conversation returned to Freia. Talking about her clothes had been embarrassing, but Meri's mood had changed with it. The heaviness surrounding old names and Sith had given way to that curious smile again. And Meri's interpretation wasn't far from the truth.

"She did become more than a disguise," Solon admitted. His expression softened as he regarded the portrait. "I couldn't keep a journal. I wanted to, desperately, but if anyone found it..." He shook his head. "Writing down everything Solon Rey thought while pretending Solon Rey didn't exist would've rather defeated the purpose."

A small smile appeared. "So I talked to Freia instead." He gave Meri a sheepish glance. "Not literally." Well, not entirely literally. "When I needed to put something into words, I'd imagine telling her. What would she say about today? What would she think about this person? What did she want?"

His eyes returned to the drawing. "And somewhere along the way, parts of me started leaking into her." Solon paused. "I hated hiding." The admission was simple. "So naturally, Freia hated hiding too."

His smile grew. "When people were around, she was dutiful. Quiet. Careful. She wore what she was supposed to wear and behaved exactly as someone expected her to." He gave a soft laugh. "But privately?" His eyes brightened. "Freia wanted to be fancy." He imagined her now as easily as he once had during those frightened days. "She wanted nicer clothes and jewelry. She wanted to walk into a room without wondering whether anyone was looking too closely. She wanted to be noticed because she chose to be."

Then Meri offered her alternate interpretation. Solon laughed. "That's your conclusion?" He tried to look affronted. That lasted approximately two seconds. "Well..." His voice dropped into a mumble. "The jewelry part is right." His cheeks reddened. "I've always liked jewelry." Another pause. "And the skirts weren't..."

He stared very intently at Meri's tablet. "...as terrible as most boys would probably insist they were." A helpless little giggle escaped him. "They were actually quite comfortable sometimes."

He glanced toward Meri, already anticipating exactly how much ammunition he'd just handed her. "But I don't think I'll be giving anyone the opportunity to mistake me for a girl anymore."

His smile remained, but something quieter rested beneath it. Freia had protected him. She had also required Solon to disappear. "I don't mind that she was part of me. I don't even mind that some parts of her probably still are." He looked at the portrait once more before his lavender eyes returned to Meri. "But now I'd rather wear the jewelry as Solon."

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri held Solon's gaze for a moment when he promised that Merindai Tiravel could disappear again. That comfort was more than she expected, perhaps because he didn't make the promise sound dramatic. He simply knew something about her that other people didn't need to know, and he would keep it that way. His offer to listen someday received a small nod, although Meri wasn't ready to turn someday into today. "Maybe someday," she said softly. It was more than she would have promised most people.

Listening to him explain Freia made Meri look at the portrait differently again. She'd thought of the girl as an identity Solon had inhabited long enough to develop a personality, but perhaps that wasn't quite right. If he couldn't write down what Solon thought or wanted, then Freia had given those thoughts somewhere safe to exist. "So she was almost your journal," Meri mused. "Except instead of writing things down, you gave them to her." The archaeologist in her found that fascinating, although this time she resisted dissecting the idea too thoroughly. Freia clearly meant more to Solon than an interesting way to preserve thoughts.

His increasingly reluctant confession about skirts and jewelry made that considerably harder. Meri's smile grew as his cheeks reddened, particularly when he admitted the skirts hadn't actually been terrible. "I'm not going to make fun of you for liking jewelry," she assured him, with just enough amusement in her voice to make the promise slightly suspicious. "Or comfortable clothes. I think you're safe." Her eyes dipped toward Freia once more before returning to him. "And I think wearing whatever you like as Solon sounds better anyway."

The thought of Solon being able to live openly again brought another question. Meri glanced around the gallery, suddenly remembering this exhibition had an end, rather than being a place she'd happened to find him. "What are you going to do after all of this is finished?" she asked. "Do you already know where you're going next? Do you have somewhere to stay?"

The last question had barely left her mouth before Meri realized how it sounded. Color crept quickly into her cheeks. "I don't mean with me," she added immediately, then looked even more embarrassed because that clarification had somehow made it worse. "I don't even have a room to offer you. I was just asking whether you had somewhere to go."

Meri briefly looked down at the tablet in her hands, wishing she'd stopped after the first question. "That sounded much less strange in my head."

Solon Rey

 

[Solon Rey]

Objective: Take in the artistry
Location: Cities Remember exhibit
Outfit: Simple Outfit
Tags: Meri Vale

Solon answered Meri's maybe someday with a small nod. He didn't press. Whatever story belonged to Merindai Tiravel was hers to tell—or not tell. Solon knew better than most how uncomfortable it was when someone discovered the edge of a secret and immediately started pulling at it. Someday was enough.

Her description of Freia as a journal made him glance back toward the portrait. "Yes," he said after a moment. "I think that's part of what she became." His expression grew thoughtful. "A place for my thoughts to rest when I couldn't safely put them anywhere else." But that wasn't quite enough.

Solon's brow furrowed as he tried to find the words. "Except..." He trailed off. Freia had been imaginary and real simultaneously. A performance for everyone else, yet strangely more genuine when no one else was there. She had carried thoughts Solon couldn't express, but she'd also somehow developed thoughts of her own—or at least thoughts that felt easier to acknowledge when he pretended they belonged to her. "She was more than that." His fingers brushed lightly against the edge of the portrait. "I don't really know how to explain it." For once, the young man who could seemingly turn anything into an artistic metaphor came up empty.

Then he noticed Meri's smile. More specifically, he noticed that she was enjoying his discomfort. His eyes narrowed with entirely unserious suspicion. "Oh, you're enjoying this." That realization actually helped.

The stiffness began to leave his shoulders, replaced by an increasingly amused smile. By the time Meri assured him that his preferences were safe, Solon looked considerably less like he wanted the gallery floor to swallow him. "Thank you." He giggled. "I suppose I should accept that I'm probably never going to be considered the most butch man in the galaxy."

He glanced down at his own clothing. "I like pretty colors too much." One finger lifted. "And soft fabrics." Another. "And apparently we've established sparkly jewels." He considered his own list and laughed. "No. I'm afraid the evidence against me is overwhelming."

Meri's question about what came after the exhibition made him thoughtful. "I—" Then he saw the blush. Solon's mouth closed. "I don't mean with me." His eyebrows rose. By the time she explained that she didn't even have a room to offer him, Solon was trying unsuccessfully to suppress a giggle.

"It sounded fine until you explained it." That only made him laugh a little more. "Sorry." He was still smiling when he added, "The last time I made a friend, I invited her to stay at my place."

His eyes widened slightly at the memory. "That became awkward remarkably quickly." Thankfully, Xian hadn't actually needed somewhere to stay. Solon suspected he might still have been trying to untangle the implications if she had. "So you're doing considerably better than I did."

Seeing Meri retreat toward the tablet in embarrassment, Solon's amusement softened. Without thinking very much about it, he reached over and rested his hand gently atop hers. "Really, Meri. It's all right." The contact registered about half a heartbeat after he'd made it. Solon became suddenly aware of her hand beneath his.

He resisted the instinct to immediately snatch his own away and make the entire thing considerably more awkward. "I knew what you meant." His smile was gentle. "And yes. I have somewhere to go."

Only then did he let his hand slip away naturally. "I have a little place here on Bastion. Nothing particularly impressive, but it's mine." That distinction still mattered to him. Once, his home had meant generations of family wealth high above Coruscant. Now it meant a small space on Bastion where nobody could tell him when to leave.

His gaze wandered toward the paintings farther down the gallery. "I don't know how long I want to stay there, though." A quiet sigh escaped him. "I think I'd like to travel soon." His expression brightened at the idea.

"Not run. Not relocate because someone decided where I was wasn't safe anymore." He gave a faint shake of his head. "Just... travel." The word sounded wonderfully indulgent. "Go somewhere because I want to see it. Draw things I've never seen. Hear music I've never heard. Find galleries where neither of us understands the architecture."

His lavender eyes returned to Meri. "I've spent so much time being told where I needed to go next that staying in one place is starting to make me feel a little..." His hands moved vaguely inward. "...boxed in." A sheepish smile followed. "I suppose floating toward the clouds requires occasionally leaving the ground."

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri's embarrassment did not improve when Solon started laughing. If anything, his assurance that she'd been doing fine until she explained herself deepened the color in her cheeks. "Yes, thank you. I've figured out where I went wrong," she muttered, although the reluctant smile pulling at her mouth made it difficult to sound genuinely aggrieved. His story about making the same mistake with another friend helped a little. At least she apparently wasn't the only person who could turn an innocent question into something much more awkward by continuing to talk.

Then his hand settled over hers.

Meri went still for a moment, her attention dropping from Solon's face to where his hand rested atop hers. The embarrassment didn't disappear, but it changed somehow, joined by a small flutter of something she wasn't quite prepared to examine too closely. By the time she looked back up at him, Solon was already reassuring her that he'd understood what she meant. She let out a quiet breath, and when his hand eventually slipped away, Meri resisted the strange impulse to follow it with her eyes.

Learning that he had a home on Bastion relieved her, even if he wasn't sure how long he wanted to remain there. As Solon explained what he actually wanted to do next, Meri's smile gradually returned. What he described differed from everything he'd told her about Freia. He wasn't looking for another place to hide. For once, nobody was making the decision for him.

"I think you should," Meri said. "Travel, I mean. Going somewhere just because you want to see what's there sounds like a much better reason than having to leave because someone else decided you couldn't stay." She glanced toward the paintings he'd indicated, then looked back at him. "Do you have anywhere in mind yet? Somewhere you've always wanted to see, or are you planning to pick a direction and see where you end up?"

Solon Rey