Private Ragdoll Physics | Invite

[Natasi Fortan]

“Maybe it will change my mind,” said Natasi airily, her eyebrows lifting with amusement. “But probably not. You’re a nerd, it’s not like you’re some kind of drug addict.” She glanced over at him, her eyes moving down his frame, then up again. A slow smile spread across her lips as she locked eyes with him again. “Probably.” But just then, there was a shift in tone.

Natasi felt the change in Dyrn’s demeanor, the tension, the tightening of his grip of her hand. She paused, shifting a little to move behind Dyrn. When the moment passed and the old man had gone along his merry way, Natasi reached across her frame to clasp his hand in both of hers, enveloping his larger mitt with both of hers. “No, no,” she said quietly. “You didn't. I am, perhaps, not as fragile as I look.” There was something quite reassuring about the strength of her grip.

Truth be told, it gave her some ideas. But she couldn't dwell on that now; she was a little worried about her guardsman.

She was beginning to think that this was a mistake. It was pleasant to spend time with Dyrn, but if he couldn’t enjoy himself -- if it was uncomfortable for Dyrn when they were out in the elements, it might be better to stay indoors where safety could be more easily guaranteed. Besides, Herevan was luxurious, well-appointed, and home. She wanted Dyrn to be comfortable, to feel as safe as he made her feel. “I understand,” said Natasi quietly. “It’s your job and I don’t want to interfere.” She looked over her shoulder as the little old man disappeared over the hill before turning her attention back to Dyrn.

“That’s -- really?” she asked, her dark eyes narrowing as if he was teasing her. She studied him a moment, then laughed. “You are serious. Oh dear. That was a bicycle. It’s -- like a speeder bike, but with wheels. There are some other similar type vehicles with engines and wheels. They were quite popular at one stage. Motorcycles. Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen many of either one outside of Galidraan. What a myopic worldview I must have.”

They approached the pub, the Dog and Duck. Parker was waiting outside the door and greeted them both with a nod. “Your Majesty, Captain Grav,” he said confidentially. “I’ve performed a security sweep of the building and found no threats. At your request, the innkeeper has arranged the private dining room for your use. I’ll be outside the door if you need me.”

Natasi offered Dyrn a slightly amused smile, then allowed Parker to escort her inside. There was a murmur in the pub’s patrons as recognition spread. Natasi returned each touch of a forehead with a gracious nod as they were escorted through the rustic establishment towards the back room. The floors were stone flag, polished and well cared for but obviously ancient. Ditto the stone and wood walls and the old barstools, tables, and chairs. The innkeeper, a Mr. Ploughy, greeted her as they entered the small dining room.

“Your Ladyship, welcome back,” he said, bowing slightly. “Sir,” he nodded to Dyrn. “Welcome to the Dog and Duck. Can I offer you something to drink?”

“Cider for me,” said Natasi pleasantly as she allowed Ploughby to take her coat. “And a glass of water. And I’ll do a round for the place.” This was no less than tradition demanded. Ploughby already had her payment details on file, so there was no awkward procurement of funds. Natasi took a seat in one of the comfortable chairs arrayed around the small, rough-hewn but clean and polished table. She waited for Dyrn to make himself comfortable and order a drink if he liked.

“Do you have a favorite drink?” she asked Dyrn quietly when they were left alone as she absentmindedly stroked her bracelet. “I know you don’t really drink on duty, but -- is there something you like when you’re left to your own devices? Or if you go on holiday?” Natasi rested her chin on her hand and smiled across the table at Dyrn, suddenly self-conscious. “Do royal guardsmen get holidays? I suppose that’s the threshold question.”

Dyrn Grav

 

[Dyrn Grav]

​

A nerd. Dyrn suspected that, regardless of what happened in the future, he would retain that status with Natasi, even if only in jest. It wasn't a bad thing, he decided, especially as she brought up that he wasn't a drug addict. Or gambler, or alcoholic, or anything similarly. There were many worse things to be, even if said nerd could use multiple martial arts forms and deadlift around six hundred pounds. When Natasi looked him over, the edges of Dyrn's mouth twitched into a smirk; he liked when she looked at him like that.

Then there was the temporary caution caused by the elderly man on the bicycle. Dyrn was glad to know he hadn't hurt Natasi's hand, he didn't think he had in all honesty, but it was better to know for sure. "You are most certainly not fragile." The Guardsman said in a soft voice, as he rubbed the top of her thumb with his thumb, both her hands on his, and regarded her with bright eyes. The Supreme Leader was resilient, in many ways, and anyone who underestimated her strength - physically, mentally or emotionally - was foolish.

When Natasi commented on protecting her being Dyrn's job, he nodded. It had become more than that, in truth, but perhaps there wasn't a need to express the opinion just yet. Things were still new, they were having supper alone for the first time as a couple, though he didn't want to label, until a proper discussion could be had about them. But as far as protecting Natasi went, yes it was Dyrn'a job - but it was now also his need and want, a responsibility that surpassed something as trivial as a career. Even if the Guard Captain retired, years from now, and they remained together and despite Dyrn knowing Natasi was perfectly capable of many things, that protectiveness would never stop. There was also another interesting development:

Natasi didn't realized Dyrn was serious about the elderly man's vehicle.

A speeder with wheels, powered by the legs. It seems like something desert tribes might use or have?

Nonetheless, it was an interesting piece of knowledge to gain, and an equally intriguing vehicle. Whether Dyrn saw the purpose of one, though, was hard to say. It seemed slow and inefficient. It was entirely possible that sentients used them for other means, but the Guardsman felt more could be gleaned about bicycles at a later time, especially at the mention of motorcycles... now that intrigued Dyrn.

"Motorcycles? Similar to bicycles, but with engines?" The Guardsman offered a hm, as he thought about that, and felt such a vehicle seemed to strike a good balance between bicycle and speeder. It also sounded fun. "Does your estate have any? Motorcycles, I mean. I admit to some curiosity over the idea, and would enjoy the chance to see one, if able. But, please, don't feel the need to go out of the way on my account if there are none around."

Before long, the pair were outside the pub. The Dog and Duck. Dyrn noted nearby buildings, took estimates of individuals nearby or milling about, before he turned his attention to Parker and nodded. The security sweep had been performed, it met standards, and Dyrn had no reason not to trust the other's ability in that regard. Besides, as suggested by Natasi earlier, a private room had been prepared for supper, so that largely minimalized threats. Dyrn was comfortable. He showed that with another caress of her thumb with his own, before it was time to head inside the establishment; the Guardsman let go of Natasi's hand at that point, just to avoid any wandering gazes from patrons within, as he followed both Parker and the Supreme Leader.

The reception was... unusual. Well, more unexpected, Dyrn would admit. The patrons greeted the Supreme Leader with a greeting that involved a touch of the forehead, before they went back to their goings on. Natasi met each motion with a nod, as Dyrn followed silently in her wake, his eyes scanning every individual's face. It didn't take long before they were in a back room, which was very rustic and homely, and they met with the - presumed - owner of the pub.

"A pleasure." Dyrn nodded to Mr. Ploughby. Natasi responded to the offer for drink orders, then provided a round for the pub, to which Dyrn smirked. He rounded their table, and pulled out Lady Fortan's chair, before he waited for her to sit. He then took his own seat and considered what beverage to have. With Parker nearby, perhaps a single beer wouldn't hurt? "I'll have a local pub beer, thank you. Just the one."

Then they were alone, again. Dyrn looked across the table, as he relaxed some, and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. It wouldn't do to lean them on the table, after all. Natasi asked about his favorite drink, to which he chuckled and considered. Did he have a favorite drink? Perhaps, but it was less a choice, more a tradition, he supposed. She also asked about holidays, which caused him to laugh and grin at her.

"My father has a tradition, where we share a bottle of Keshian whiskey on one another's birthdays. We have done that since I was sixteen, if I recall, and I suppose that has become my favorite drink," Dyrn reached up to scratch his chin, as he considered. "I would say so, yes. If only because of the connection it has to celebrating with family. Admittedly it isn't an easy whiskey to find outside of Keshi and Dosuun. Aside from that, I have no real preference for drinks. Water, mostly."

He then raised an eyebrow to Natasi.

"And Guardsmen can have holidays, certainly. Rotation duty can be extended if required, for various reasons, though I try to limit it happening too often throughout a standard year. Simply because of our limited Royal Guard numbers presently, still, important events or circumstances offer allowances." Dyrn smiled, as he reached up and put his forearms on the table. He inched one hand closer to Natasi, his fingers casually outstretched toward her. "I personally haven't had holidays, however. Not in some years, actually. I... guess I enjoy my position too much to need time away."

And it was true enough. Where would be go, or what would he do, without Natasi that would be enjoyable, which couldn't otherwise be done on his rotation? He could bring a starship model to his personal quarters, for instance. He could enjoy any number of trips and travel at her side. Perhaps the adage that if you loved if what you did, you never worked a day in your life was accurate. Downtime was needed, though, simply to de-stress and recover from active duty. But, it was time to ask a few questions of his own:

"What is something you have always wanted to do, but haven't been able?"

Dyrn wondered at the answer. It would be very interesting.

"Also, I'm going to dive right in and ask: what is the most embarrassing thing that's happened to you?"

Despite himself, Dyrn couldn't help but smile and grin, as his expression alternated between those. He felt like he was seventeen again, on a first date, and wanted to start to learn as much about Natasi beyond the dossiers and data packages as possible... he wanted to know everything.

Natasi Fortan​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

The motorcycle question caught Natasi off guard. She'd never thought of having a motorcycle, nor did she think she seemed like the type. But then again, Dyrn was new to the concept, so he would be forgiven for not being sure. She had to demur for the moment, but she filed it in the back of her mind. She was relieved that the rest of their journey to the pub was uneventful and without any other strange vehicles passing by. It was for the best that Mrs. Thornton-Wilton wasn't out and about that day, because she usually demanded to be carried in a sedan chair and that was something far beyond even Natasi's ability to explain with any degree of sincerity.

Once more Natasi was impressed by Dyrn's gallantry. His effort to pull her chair out was subtle but rather nice, she thought. She wouldn't have expected it from him in an informal surrounding such as this, but it was just a classy, gentlemanly touch that she found highly endearing. They got to talking about drinks, and Natasi watched him with interest as he spoke of the days of his ritual drinking with his father. His father sounded like a hard man, a taskmaster, but there seemed to be room for a touch of sentiment there as well, if not sentimentality.

"That's sweet," Natasi said, smiling over at Dyrn. "Keshian whiskey, hm?" Natasi tried to remember whether she'd ever had any. She didn't usually go for whiskey, although she had to admit that there were some moments for which whiskey was the only thing that would do. Natasi was a gin and tonic kind of girl, although she also liked a sidecar and a few other cocktails. "It's gin for me," she said, "Unless there are cocktails, but until recently they were considered rather unfashionably avant garde in Herevan. Fussy and complicated rather than sophisticated. Hendersmith's face went all red the first time I asked him for a before-dinner Aviation, but -- he's quite used to it now."

Dyrn's discussion of his holiday plans -- or lack thereof -- made her smile confidentially. "I hope this trip we have planned, to Naboo and then after, will be something like a holiday for us," she murmured. As they discussed it, she looked over the menu, the back of her mind working about what to get. She didn't want anything too heavy, as her stomach was a little fluttery as it was. Nor did she want anything too spicy, as she had every intention of kissing Dyrn again that night, and she didn't want to have unpleasant breath. She forced herself not to dwell on this future snogging, instead focusing on her companion. From this vantage, sitting across from him, she could watch Dyrn talk. Now that everything was out in the open, she didn't have to pretend not to be looking. The way his face moved, the way his mouth formed words, his eyes and his features.

He was actually beautiful. Outside and, from what she could tell, inside as well.

The spell was only broken when there was a knock at the door. She waited as Mr. Ploughby entered with their drinks, not wanting to speak out of turn in front of a relative stranger. He took their orders, with Natasi finally settling on toad in a hole. When Mr. Ploughby had taken Dyrn's order as well, he excused himself. When the door closed and they were alone again, Natasi felt herself relax. She ventured a bold gesture, reaching across the small table to place a hand over Dyrn's. Hers was quite small compared to his, a fact that rather tickled her. She allowed her fingers to curl and uncurl, rubbing along the top of his hand. With her other hand she picked up her glass and offered to clink it to his. "Your good health, Dyrn," she said genuinely before taking a sip of the cider.

"Something I've always wanted to do," she repeated, her tone musing as she replaced the glass on the table. She looked at him, then over his shoulder as she considered it. "I suppose I always hoped I'd have some kind of artistic talent. Sketching or painting or -- I don't know -- flower arranging." Natasi looked at her companion with a deadpan look. "When I was a girl I wanted to be a mystery novelist," she said with a smile. She hadn't mentioned it in decades; not to her husband, not to her cousin, not to her friends, not to anyone except her brother Mathes. "You know, there's nothing quite like a classic Galidraani locked-door manor-house mystery."

"As for embarrassment," she continue, raising an eyebrow at him. Her fingers stopped moving, her hand resting flat on Dyrn's. "I suppose you mean other than me mashing my face against your neck and then awkwardly kissing you without saying a word? I don't suppose I'll ever let myself live that one down. But for public humiliation, there was the time that I was in the Life Day pageant at the church down the road -- my last before I went away to university -- and my skirt was caught on a nail and it tore open. Everyone in the village could see what color knickers I was wearing." She flushed mildly and averted her gaze. "Purple, if you're curious. Do you suppose that's why they all tip their hats when I come in?"

She chuckled and rested her head on her other hand. "Your turn, I'm afraid," Natasi declared. "What's something you've always wanted to do, but haven't gotten around to? And dare I ask what has ever had the nerve to embarrass a man of your size, strength, and skills?"

Dyrn Grav

 

[Dyrn Grav]

​

Dyrn nodded when Natasi confirmed Keshian whiskey, his mind recalling some of the moments shared briefly, before he continued to listen. It seemed that distilled spirits were the preference for both, as the liquor Gin was mentioned by Natasi. Though, amusingly, she had previously had a taste for cocktails it seemed, which Dyrn understood to be very fruity and sweet, though with his lack of experience with those drinks specifically, he couldn't be certain. Fussy, as the Supreme Leader put it, seemed a good description. He chuckled, as he put the cocktail of choice - an Aviation - to memory, should the time ever require it. Seemed a good thing to know, were Natasi prone to a cocktail being ordered.

"I would never have taken you for a cocktail drinker," Dyrn said in a low voice, his smile on the edges of his mouth. "Avant garde, indeed. I'm willing to bet you had to explain how to make them quite a few times?"

The trip to Naboo, and the plans for Öetrago, were suggested as possible holiday opportunities by Natasi, and Dyrn felt that was entirely possible. Even though the former was more of a work function for the pair, what with social obligations required, there would still be time outside of those same obligations to see the world - or at least small parts of it. And Öetrago was most certainly a vacation, fully intended for them alone, and Dyrn only hoped it was as interesting and unique and beautiful as it sounded; which, he considered with a thought, was how he saw Natasi, interesting, unique and beautiful. Her eyes were especially mesmerizing, upturned almond-shaped eyes that were dark brown but could catch the light and become like caramel, and were capable of expressing untold kindness or scathing rebuke with but a glance.

Fortunately I haven't been on the latter end of her stare. Yet.

It was Natasi's eyes that Dyrn continued to stare at from across the table, as he watched her, enthralled by her. His own were considerably bright in comparison and able to shift in color in dramatic ways, due to his biology, so to see how Natasi's natural colorization was so vivid had become a strong point of attraction to the Guardsman. Granted, everything about her face - from her straight delicate nose, round lips and high cheekbones - were equally alluring and delightful. But Dyrn had a natural inclination to eyes, one could blame his species or culture, and Natasi's were just...

"Yes, I believe the trips planned will do just that," Dyrn said with a smile. "I know I look forward to them immensely. Perhaps Naboo to a lesser degree, as I will be more focused on my Guard duties, but certainly Öetrago."

The arrival of Mr. Ploughby and the ordered drinks brought a lull in the conversation. Natasi ordered something called toad in a hole, and Dyrn ordered a steak - to avoid unintentional cuisine choices - then the owner was soon gone, and the pair were alone again. Natasi seemed to relax visibly, and Dyrn watched as she reached out and put her hand on his. Warm skin on warm skin, as she began to gently rub the top of his hand with her fingers. Such a small movement, but it felt amazing, especially across his knuckles. Dyrn picked up his tall glass of beer, which looked quite ale-like and thick, and clinked the edge against Natasi's own. "And yours, always." He added to the simple toast, before he took a mouthful of the beer. It tasted well enough.

Ah, now this I've been looking forward to, Dyrn thought, as the Supreme Leader began to answer about what she had always wanted to do. It turned out artistry was on the list, in some form of talent or another. But also - after a quite serious look - there was the novelist revelation, to which the Guardsman raised his eyebrows and inclined his head. He never would have guessed. Perhaps that would be an avenue that Natasi could pursue, as there were often long periods traveling through hyperspace, where little could - or needed - to be done...

"You should write one, then," Dyrn said suddenly. He was being wholly sincere. "Write your locked-door manor-house mystery, Natasi. Please don't let it become a regret... I would read it, certainly."

It was a simple prompt, one aimed to support the woman he cared for, and perhaps give that final nudge to take action. It would remain to be seen, but Dyrn wouldn't let Natasi so easily move on from that long-standing want to write a novel. However, the answer to the question about most embarrassing thing came up, and the Guardsman's eyes lit up as he began to smirk and eventually smile. He took another drink of the beer, as he waited earnestly for the answer. He offered a playful shrug to the kissing in the training session, but cocked an eyebrow at the actual story, which involved a pageant and a torn skirt. And purple underwear. Dyrn laughed, as he shook his head, and tried to stifle the reaction.

"I'm sorry, all I can see is you red-faced and purple knickers," He pulled his hand from under Natasi's hand, and quickly placed his own fingers atop hers. He squeezed gently, before he started to rub his fingertips along the back of her hand like she had to him. "Thank you. For telling me, I mean. I always see you in such a way, as Supreme Leader, and it's nice to know that... well, that you're Natasi, too. Human like the rest of us, mistakes and embarrassment and all. I adore it. And no, hats are tipped because of your accomplishments, not the color of your underwear... though, purple? Interesting."

Dyrn's smirk was mischievous. Then he became a little more somber, as the questions were reflected onto him. He considered.

"...I don't quite know. For so long, all I wanted was to prove myself in my career, to become a Royal Guard, which I saw as the epitome of achievement for someone like me - an Army brat, I suppose." Dyrn looked down, his smile wavered, as he took another mouthful of beer. He continued to rub the back of Natasi's hand with his fingers. "I suppose, some day, I would like to take my children and see the Southern Lights of Keshi, on my homeworld. I remember them from when I was young. A vivid and dramatically colored display of the planets magnetic field interacting with charged particles from the sun. It happens at certain times of the year... thousands make the trip, especially Keshians, as our eyesight allows us to see millions of colors. It is something of a rite of passage for my culture, I suppose? Not all of us do it, it's not a hard tradition, but those that do they never regret the experience.

"The lights are still vibrant and beautiful for non-Keshians, I should add. So even if my children... can't see like I do, for whatever reason, they can still enjoy the beauty of the lights in different ways."

The Guardsman smiled, as he looked up to Natasi.

"As for embarrassing? Well. It's not as lighthearted as yours, I'm afraid. When I was in my early teens, I was learning blaster rifles with him - my father - and accidentally misfired my weapon," Dyrn gave a wry smile. "Being a strict instructor, my father took the rifle, then ordered me to stand at attention for the rest of the night. Through until morning. I was very embarrassed, received a very harsh lesson, but have never misfired a weapon since... so that's good, right?"

In order to save the mood, and to avoid bringing Natasi down with his stories that weren't necessarily happy, Dyrn perked up and raised his eyebrows as he narrowed his eyes at the same time:

"Natasi. What is toad in a hole, and why am I regretting asking for the answer? Also, do you have a favorite starship?"

Natasi Fortan​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

"Mr. Hendersmith was a quick study," Natasi said. She suspected it had something to do with who was requesting it. Natasi had always been the old butler's favorite, from the time she was a tiny child. The affinity had only grown as Natasi progressed, until it had been said by the housekeeper that Lord Fortan paid the wage bills, but it was Lady Natasi that set the terms. "I don't like to brag, but he always had a soft spot for me. If my brother had asked him for a cocktail I'm sure he'd have refused. Then again I'm sure my brother would have worse taste in cocktails than I. All right, that sounded a little braggy."

The conversation was pleasant. It was nice to talk about things that weren't necessarily terribly serious. Nothing about people dying or nations crumbling. Even her embarrassment felt less uncomfortable when shared with a friend. She considered his advice to write a novel herself and chuckled. "I suppose if there's time... although I suppose with Ariel taking on more responsibility on the capital, it does free me to pursue other interesting pursuits." Mystery novels. Physical training. Horseracing. Kissing her bodyguard. The possibilities were endless.

She glanced down when he shifted his hand over hers, a smile tugging her lips up at the edges. His words turned to a discussion of the Southern Lights on his homeworld. Natasi could only truly grasp what he was describing in broad strokes; she was not blessed as he was with the kind of vision, the depth of color, the richness of detail, that his species enjoyed. But it must have been exquisite. "That sounds beautiful," said Natasi. "We get a kind of aurora here on Galidraan, but only at the very northern- and southern-most points on the planet, and not very strong. But this sounds like another foxhunt altogether."

Natasi left it unsaid that she would like to see the lights, too. It felt like fishing, or imposing, or coming on too strong. In any event, unbecoming a lady. Perhaps it was a stupid thing to worry about when here they were, having spent a not-insignificant amount of their recent time together in some form of embrace or another, but still, Natasi had a difficult time balancing what she thought she wanted with what she thought she must do. For the time being, she would be content to sit with Dyrn's hand on hers.

The story about his father hit close to home; Natasi herself was familiar with the sting of disappointing her father, although Frejrik had never responded with such a draconian punishment. She covered his hand with her free one as her brows furrowed with concern. "That sounds rather harsh," she said quietly. "Not that I'm any great instructor. Perhaps there was something to his method, given that you've never made the same mistake again. Still, you are clearly a conscientious man. I'm sure you would have learned the importance of caution and care without such a rough lesson." Natasi did not mean to sound critical of Dyrn's father; she supposed it was not her place to do so.

Natasi was taken aback when he asked about toad in a hole. "Oh, yes -- that. I suppose you must be thinking something quite unpleasant." She grinned. "It's -- it's not what it sounds like. There's a kind of -- oh, how to explain it to a non-Galidraani? No offense. It's just that there are layers of... faff." She took a slow breath, then took a sip of cider before explaining: "There's a particular kind of pudding batter. I don't know how they do it, but they make it like a little dish, all crispy along the bottom and sides, and they bake the sausages kind of poking out of the batter. I couldn't honestly tell you why it's called that, but -- I'm starting to feel that nothing makes sense here. Ploughby does a terrific onion-and-drippings gravy to go with it. It's delicious. You can try mine if you like, even for a single serving it's enough to feed a small household. I always have plenty leftover."

There was another knock at the door. Natasi instinctively drew her hand back, resting both together in her lap as Mr. Ploughby entered with a tray, serving the pair before retreating. Natasi smiled timidly over her dish at Dyrn as she unrolled the fork and knife from her napkin and placed the napkin across her lap. "See?" she said, pushing the plate towards her bodyguard so he could see and, if he chose, take a bit. "What you need to do is get a bit of the pudding and dip it into the gravy. Take a whole sausage, please, there's no way I'll be able to eat all three."

As they tucked into their meals, Natasi considered Dyrn's question. "That is a tough one," she confessed. "I was rather partial to the Concordia. I helped design her, after all. That ship was an extension of myself. Part diplomatic vessel, part warship, but always sleek and stylish and elegant." She paused to add with a smirk: "Not to mention modest. But I suppose I must say the Allegro. It is, in a word, freedom. I can go where I want, when I want, without worrying about being seen or overheard or surveilled." Her gaze darkened as she thought about the Bothan aboard the charter. It would never have happened if she'd had the option of using the Allegro. "I'm sure you'll come to appreciate it as much as I. I should probably show you around it before we set off."

She used her knife and fork to cut into one of the sausages, pulling it away from the crisped batter of the pudding. "Do you -- ah -- do you have a ship?" Natasi didn't think it was impertinent to ask, although the hesitation over whether it was made her feel a bit snobbish. She straightened and looked across at his meal. "How's your steak? That reminds me, we should discuss the menus for our trip. If we can get supplies before we leave it will mean less need to stop along the way." She smiled pleasantly. "I know you said you could get by on rations and no sleep, but -- well, why, if you don't have to?"

"I'll warn you," she went on after taking a bite of her sausage and swallowing. "I'm not a terribly good cook. There are one or two staples I can handle, and the ship's galley facilities can be programmed with some fairly good recipes, but unless you want to bring Mrs. Clarke along on the trip, it won't be quite the fare to which we've become accustomed." She took another bite of the sausage, then set her cutlery down and dabbed her lips lightly with her napkin. "Although at this rate I'd almost rather we take Ploughby. This is exactly what I've been craving. Anyway -- special requests for meals on the trip?"

Dyrn Grav

 

[Dyrn Grav]

​

Dyrn smiled as he listened to Natasi recount the memory of cocktails from Mr. Hendersmith, enjoying the chance to know more about her past, beyond what public information was available. When she mentioned that the cocktails were basically only for her, the Guardsman chuckled and shook his head when she said it was a little braggy - "No, never." - he said simply, as Natasi continued on to mention the potential of novels. Dyrn hoped she would, truly, because if it was something dear to her, then it was dear to him as well, and the galaxy knew Natasi Fortan could use a moment to indulge in something she wanted for a change. The revelation of the aurora on Galidraan made Dyrn raise his eyebrows.

"Oh? I hadn't been aware," He said as he inclined his head and considered. "It time permits, perhaps."

The reaction about the lessons with Dyrn's father made the man nod. Perhaps Natasi was right. Maybe it had been unnecessarily harsh, but Dyrn couldn't fault his father for being what he was, a soldier through and through. "The relationship between my father and I has always been strained. It hasn't been one of love or emotional connection, more expectation and pride. He wanted me to be the best I could be, to surpass him, and I wanted to prove that I could... and so we both got what we wanted, in a way. But, we also lost something else at the same time, sadly, something that we've never been able to get back."

It wasn't intended to turn the conversation to such a dour tone, so Dyrn smiled and glanced down to his hand that was held between Natasi's own hands. He enjoyed her touch, so much. "Still, he was very proud when I was accepted into the Royal Guard, and even shed a tear I'm told, by mother. So it's not all bad!" And with a bigger grin, Dyrn tried to reassure Natasi and shift the tone to be more lighthearted. He took another mouthful of the beer, before he began to listen to Lady Fortan explain the - very odd - intricacies of toad in the hole. For better or worse, the Guardsman began to furrow his eyebrows, as he listened with increasing understanding. It was certainly -- something, Dyrn decided, as he slowly nodded once the explanation had been given.

"I see..." As had become almost normal, since the pair had spent more time together, Dyrn felt his mouth shift into a wry smirk. He raised his chin, as he asked suddenly, his tone not-quite serious. Dyrn knew he was being very familiar with Natasi, but he also wanted to show his more personal side, the one that wasn't afraid to have fun or show emotion - to prove he was human, essentially, and not just a statue guard. "Are you sure? You're not toying with me, Lady Fortan? Pudding and batter and sausages... I'm very interested to see the mystery that is toad in the hole when it arrives. I remain suspicious, but trust you. Somewhat."

The sudden knock at the door caused Natasi to pull back her hands, while the Guardsman sat upright and half-turned in his chair. Instinctively, his hand moved to rest on the utensil on the table, as he looked over to see the owner of the establishment, Mr. Ploughby, walk in with the orders. It didn't take long for the sentient to put the food down, then he was on his way, as the pair were left to their meals. And there, before Dyrn's eyes, as toad in a hole, and he couldn't quite believe it was what Natasi said it was. Well, he could believe it, he believed her after all, but to see the unusual meal close up was...

"May I?" He asked, as he reached for his own fork, before he did as Natasi instructed. He soon had some of the food in his mouth, as he chewed and considered, before he nodded with a surprised expression. "It's... actually quite nice. I enjoyed that, thank you."

The dinner talk turned to the starship that Natasi liked, to which Dyrn paid particular attention. He listened as his partner mentioned the Concordia and then the Allegro, both of which were vessels the Guardsman was familiar with. There was the mention of the Bothan, to which Dyrn nodded, as his eyes hardened for a moment. Though he smiled again when Natasi offered to show him around the personal vessel she owned, as he added:

"I would like that, very much," He said as he sliced into his steak with the sharp knife. It was cooked perfectly. Kudos to Mr. Ploughby. "I've been aware of the Allegro itself, but have yet to see inside the vessel. And I understand what you mean, about it feeling like freedom. I expect it would be even more important to have because privacy as Supreme Leader is so hard to find. It is a beautiful starship, certainly."

Still, what Dyrn didn't mention, was a plan he had in mind. His starship model hobby was known, and the Guardsman thought it would be nice if the pair could begin a shared project with a ship that Natasi felt something for. Models for the Concordia were around, and Dyrn supposed it shouldn't prove difficult to find models for a similar vessel as the Allegro. He would keep that to himself, though, as something of a surprise for when the time came...

"I do not have a starship, no," Dyrn said with a glance to Natasi. He smirked. "I have access to vessels provided by the Royal Guard branch, however, so a request is simple to make and one is made available to me. As for the steak, well..."

The steak had been slicing like butter, to which the Guardsman had enjoyed several mouthfuls through the course of conversation. He raised an eyebrow as he looked across the table to the brunette that made his heart thump heavily.

"...it's delicious. Cooked to medium-rare. Would you like to try some?"

Dyrn would wait to see if Natasi was interested, then would shift his plate toward her, so she might take some of the meat. It really was some of the best steak Dyrn had had, which was fairly often he had to admit; something about red meat, his body mass, and protein just added up. Still, the topic shifted to food itself, and what the requirements might be for the trip after Naboo. The Guardsman thought for a moment, as he considered some options, and especially chuckled when Natasi brought up the rations and no sleep.

"That is true, having no sleep makes little sense on a private vessel. I would very much enjoy sleeping with yo-- near you, on the ship, yes," Dyrn cleared his throat as he looked down to the suddenly very interesting meal on his plate. "I trust your decision with food. I tried toad in the hole, and it was quite nice, so I am very open to any dishes you feel are appropriate? If I could have one, it would be steak, but I would enjoy trying other foods you personally enjoy.

"Are there any others that are odd, like that one?"

Natasi Fortan​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

"Mr. Ploughby doesn't make anything bad, so -- I'll give it a try."

When prompted, Natasi took a bite-sized bit of the steak and popped it into her mouth. She nodded appreciatively as she chewed and swallowed the steak. "Delicious," she declared, dabbing her lips with her napkin once more before taking a sip of her cider. She considered his question regarding what other odd foods there were.

"There are a lot of things with silly names, I suppose," said Natasi conversationally. "There's bangers and mash. That's sausages, just like these," she said, indicating the sausages in the toad in the hole. "With mashed potatoes. There's -- let's see -- there's bubble and squeak, which is really just potatoes and and cabbage fried in butter or oil. There's blood pudding which... it's exactly what it sounds like. I don't really care for it." She made a face. "Then there's Buck Rabbit, which contrary to its name contains no rabbit. It's cheese melted over toast with an egg on top."

She took another sip of her cider and dabbed at her lips. "Jellied eel is quite a delicacy in Southport, near Foxfield Park, where my late husband was from. Needless to say, Mrs. Clarke never learned the recipe. Come to think of it, Talbot never asked for it." Natasi smiled in a remote kind of way. "I guess no discussion of Galidraani cuisine would be complete without a mention of spotted dick. That's a kind of steamed pudding with dried fruits, served with a kind of alcoholic custard sauce." She raised her eyebrows and smirked. "It's a lot better than it sounds, I assure you."

Natasi slowly worked her way through another sausage. "Is it all very different from the kind of food you grew up with?" Natasi asked. "I suppose you never stop to think about just how many worlds there are, and how many different places on all those worlds, and all the different people in all the different places on all those worlds. All the different ways people do things." Natasi looked over at Dyrn, smiling pleasantly. "You said before that you could cook. Is there anything in particular that you like to cook?"

She started working her way through one corner of the pudding, listening attentively to his answer.

At the next break in the conversation, Natasi said: "You know, I've been thinking about it, and I'm fairly certain my cousin Pierce had a motorcycle. My son inherited Chiltenham -- that's his estate -- but we've not had the chance to go through it all. But the more I think about it, the more certain I am that he had some kind of deathtrap contraption that was probably a motorcycle. He was always doing some kind of ridiculous, risky, damned dangerous thing." She sighed and smiled wistfully. She thought for a moment that it would be fine, but it wasn't to be. Natasi lookied away for a moment as her eyes filled with tears. She stiffened and went silent, before looking down into her lap.

"Sorry," she said in a strangled whisper and raised her napkin to dab at the corner of her eyes with a clean corner. "I thought I'd gotten to a place where I could talk about him without going to pieces." Natasi looked up again, an apologetic look on her features, her eyes almost amber, shining with unshed tears. "At any rate -- motorcycle. I'll send someone out to fetch it. But you must promise to be careful. Although -- I suppose given how..." She leaned back and raised her eyebrows. "...awfully sturdy you are, it's the roads and the trees and fences that should be worried instead of vice versa."

Dyrn Grav

 

[Dyrn Grav]

​

There had been no real indication that his unfortunate turn of phrase had been acknowledged, so that helped Dyrn move through whatever awkwardness might have followed, as the conversation shifted to the seemingly innumerable amount of oddly named foods associated with Natasi's culture. He continued to take portions of his steak, after Natasi had tried it, and listened as she began to list a number of meals that - in all honesty - sounded questionable. Yet, given the truth about toad in the hole, Dyrn was willing to believe that the meals were as enjoyable as the Supreme Leader said, since he doubted the names were accurate indication of the produce used. Mostly.

Bangers and mash.

Bubble and squeak.

Blood pudding.

What were these meals? Was blood pudding actual blood, as Natasi seemed to imply? Who's? The questions kept coming, the more Lady Fortan spoke, and Dyrn tried his best to keep his expression neutral as he listened. It was certainly something. Jellied eel? Perhaps something Dyrn would pass on, regardless, as that one seemed very self-explanatory, and his imagination threatened to turn him off the steak on his plate. Instead, the Guardsman reached for the glass of beer and took several mouthfuls, the thick ale going down a treat with the meat--

Spotted dick?

--Dyrn half-froze with the beer near his lips. He blinked at Natasi, before he took one last gulp, then set the near-empty glass back on the table. He cleared his throat, as he absently reached over to straighten his napkin, before his free hand found the fork again. He smiled. The description of the apparent dessert made spotted dick sound considerably nicer than the name implied, or the images it brought to the mind, and not for the first time Dyrn wondered at the Galidraani method for naming food - or cuisine, as Natasi put it.

"I see. A very -- interesting sounding dessert, for sure." Dyrn nodded, before Natasi asked about his own childhood foods. "I would say yes, most certainly, my family were a lot simpler when it came to meals and eating. We enjoyed protein we could hunt, for example, so most of what we ate was wild game or greens and vegetables grown or purchased, depending. Not to say we didn't have treats, we did, such as Creme Tarts and caramel swirls.

"So, I would say meats are likely the thing I enjoy cooking the most. Simple, perhaps, but also difficult to master and present perfectly."

It was definitely interesting to consider the vast differences between worlds. Not just what people ate, but the cultures, the social interactions, the clothing and manner of speaking and phrasing. It couldn't even be quantified, Dyrn thought, to consider just how large the number of possibilities were from even a few planets, let alone sectors and sectors of them throughout the galaxy. It caused one to realize just how small they were in the scheme of things, and yet - across from him - Dyrn saw one of the most important people in that respect, as Natasi was quite literally charged with caring for an entire region of known space.

A lot of pressure on her shoulders. That is why I try to do what I can to alleviate concerns or worries, by doing my job.

Dyrn looked up from his steak as Natasi mentioned a cousin who may have had a motorcycle. George had apparently inherited a portion of land known as Chiltenham and it was possible such a vehicle was there, on the estate. The Guardsman raised his eyebrows, momentarily excited by the prospect of seeing another odd motor vehicle used by the Galidraani, but he paused. Across the way, Natasi looked upset, as her eyes welled with tears and she looked away. Despite the want to stand and circle the table to comfort her, Dyrn held back; Natasi was far more durable than the emotion caused by a memory, and didn't need her dinner partner doting on her momentary tears. Instead, Dyrn reached forward over the table, and placed his hand there for hers, if she wanted it. He smiled, reassuringly, before he chuckled at the joke Natasi made about the roads and trees.

"I promise," Dyrn said, his bright eyes looking at hers. He grinned. "I will be very conscientious of the roads and trees and fences. I wouldn't want to hurt them with my sturdiness, after all... not intentionally."

Hopefully enough to make her laugh. Dyrn liked when she laughed.

"Perhaps you might want to join me? I think between the pair of us, we can sort this motorcycle vehicle and have it functioning, and enjoy an opportunity to test the thing on some estate roads? The bicycle looked simple enough, pedal driven, so I imagine a basic motor would be just as easy to control..." Dyrn inclined his head. "I would very much like to do that with you. But if you have reservations, I understand, and won't be offended if you decline."

Dyrn finished the last of the steak, as he chewed, then swallowed. He would move on to the vegetables, assuming Natasi hadn't finished her meal.

"Also, due to the want to know more about you, we've established your interest in mystery novels... do you have a favorite genre of holovid? Or even your favorite dessert? You mentioned flower arranging before, what is your favorite flower?"

Fishing for information? Perhaps. Dyrn wanted to know a few things, so he could make some plans.

Natasi Fortan​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi dabbed her eyes and tucked her handkerchief back into her pocket, then gently laid her hand on Dyrn's. She was appreciative of the warmth she found in him, both physical and metaphorical. "You want to take me on a motorcycle?" She raised an eyebrow. "I would have expected Ma'am, please stay away from the deathtrap machine from you," she said, her voice deepening in an obvious but not very good impression of Dyrn. Her broad smile across the table was genuine. "Once you get the hang of things -- and we get helmets -- then we'll try it. I'm afraid I'm not quite as resistant to roads and trees and fences as I suspect you are."

It did sound like a good time to ride a motorcycle with Dyrn. It would be faster and more thrilling than horseback riding, which she enjoyed terribly, but louder and with less room for conversation. Still, they didn't need to be talking all the time. There were plenty of hours in the day.

"But I think it would be a lot of fun," said Natasi after a moment. "Pierce always talked about how exciting it was. Then again this was the man who nearly died during the Omega crisis and immediately wanted to get back in his fighter, so perhaps he was not the right the best judge of relative risk and reward."

She finished her meal and pushed the remains to one side and took a sip of her cider. The conversation turned to holovids. Natasi frowned thoughtfully. "You know, it's been awhile since I've taken the time to really watch a holo," she said after a few moments' thought and another sip of her drink. "I think the last few I've been exposed to have been because I was with the children and they had something on about -- I don't know -- a train that could talk or something." She leaned back in her seat, draping one arm along the armrest casually. "But I guess I like old war dramas. Not all the blood and guts ones, really, but the ones with the personal stories. I'm a sucker for a good wartime romance or period drama. Especially about the Galactic Civil War. The costumers were just so much more elegant back then."

"My favorite dessert? Oh, that's easy," she said genially. "In fact I think I'll get some while we're here. We can share. It's sticky toffee pudding. It's -- well, no, I won't spoil the surprise." She dragged her index finger across her lips before placing it across them in a 'shh' gesture. "As for flowers... well, you can't go wrong with roses, can you? Particularly Atrisian roses. But I'm also partial to Galidraani hydrangeas. My mother cultivated a rather beautiful variety, Esperell Blues, which she crossbred with namana blossoms so that they smelled like the orchards she grew up in. Remind me and I'll show you. They're grown year-round in the hothouse."

Ploughby re-entered the room and took orders for dessert and drinks. Natasi ordered sticky toffee pudding and a small brandy for herself. When Dyrn had ordered for himself and the innkeeper disappeared again, Natasi leaned forward, elbows on the table, carefully toying with her bracelet. "My turn," she said with a little smile. "Your favorite dessert? And holovids? I won't prompt you regarding flowers, but -- what is your favorite kind of ship to model? Your favorite kind of workout? What would you most like to teach me, provided I don't ruin our lessons with my wantonness." She grinned playfully and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

Dyrn Grav

 

[Dyrn Grav]

​

The idea of driving the motorcycle through the countryside with Natasi felt good, it felt natural, especially now that they were allowing one another closer. The impression she did of him, with the lower voice and word of warning, made the Guardsman smirk. It made sense to avoid some dangers, yes, but Dyrn hardly expected to be going at top speeds and driving the vehicle recklessly. Unless that was what motorcycles did? Perhaps they were similar to podracers, all speed and power? Nonetheless, surely anything with a motor could be controlled and slowed down, or so he hoped.

Natasi agrees with the idea, so clearly it's not completely unsound or dangerous.

"Helmets, and after some practice, agreed," Dyrn said with a nod. He touched his fingers to Natasi's wrist gently, as he met her palm with his own. "And was that me? It was very good, like looking in a mirror, ma'am."

The information shared about Pierce spoke of a sentient who enjoyed danger. Perhaps Natasi shared that same inclination. Either way, it seemed the decision was made and Dyrn was content. He would see what the motorcycle was all about, he would take it for a drive, get better at controlling it and then take Natasi on some estate roads. The conversation shifted to the holovids, to which Dyrn listened with a small incline of his head, thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to see just what kind of genres Natasi liked. Amusingly, it seemed Lady Fortan had been tasked with surviving children's holovids. With talking toy trains, no less.

"Old war dramas? Interesting," Dyrn nodded as he smiled. He could appreciate one of the old holo flicks, he admitted. There were some based in the Republic and Imperial eras that were surprisingly good, ones with an Emperor and his dark-clad servant who tried to repel the advances of a destructive rebellion. The production value was quite high, even after so long. They held up well. "I agree. Perhaps we share some differing thoughts on why they are so good, but I can appreciate the authentic attention to detail put into the costumes. After all, in the Royal Guard halls, we have some of those old Imperial uniforms present in static cases... simple, but elegant, as you say."

The Guardsman took that moment to take some more of his beer, before he finished the glass and placed it to one side. It had been enjoyable, certainly another would have been good, but Dyrn wanted to remain vigilant and aware - alcohol would only dull him. He had asked about favorite dessert right after. He raised his eyebrows when Natasi answered about the dessert, and wasn't exactly shocked to hear another item of food that he wasn't familiar with, which seemed to be quite normal now. Sticky toffee pudding. He could surmise what it was, though he wasn't sure as to the flavors involved. Toffee was a type of caramel, if he recalled... he eased back into his chair when footsteps were heard outside the door.

"I see," Dyrn said slowly as he nodded. "I might follow your suggestion and try it for myself, also. Mr. Ploughby is back."

When Ploughby returned, he took orders, to which Dyrn also requested the toffee pudding though he elected to have water as well. Once the owner was gone, Natasi leaned forward onto the table with elbows, as she played with the bracelet. Dyrn was glad to see she had taken to wearing it at most times. It was vital to keeping her safe, and would prove invaluable should the unfortunate happen, and someone try to harm her. Still, the Guardsman also leaned forward, as he placed his elbows on the table. He laid his forearms flat however, lacking anything to use on his wrists. He listened to the questions, and took a moment to think, as he considered with a glance upward for a moment.

"Hm... it's hard to say, I haven't enjoyed too many desserts. If I had to pick one, however, I would say the mousse tarts on Dosuun are very enjoyable." He nodded, before he considered the next. "As for holovids, I've always enjoyed documentary types, I enjoy learning about the past and some of the struggles the First Order went through to become what it was today. The betrayal by Ben Solo always struck me as rash and I've often wondered what might have been had the then Supreme Leader survived. As for my favorite starship model, I would say... the Resurgent-class Star Destroyer. Deceptively simple in design, and holds a great deal of small details. Very fun to make."

Dyrn smirked. A question about workouts? Interesting.

"I would have to say my martial arts training. Lifting weights, conditioning, cardio, it's all bland in comparison. It's a means to improve myself, so I can be better at combat techniques." The Guardsman smirked, as he raised his eyebrows. "I have to admit, I recently had a very -- revealing session, where my partner managed to take me by surprise, and it was the first time I didn't mind that. And I plan to teach you as much as I can, Natasi, so you can remain safe and secure even when alone or without guard... though a healthy intermingling of wantonness is completely acceptable, if not encouraged, ma'am.

"I certainly won't object."

As he watched her across the table, Dyrn wanted to stand up, round it and kiss her. Perhaps it had been the ale that had loosened him up, or maybe it was the way she looked at him with her deep brown eyes, but there was something in that moment that spurned Dyrn to action - though, out of respect for the time they now shared, and the chance to connect as individuals to a pair, he refrained. Instead, Dyrn reached out with one hand and began to run his finger along the table, as he studied the wood grain and pretended it was interesting for a moment...

"Natasi..."

Dyrn said, as he furrowed his eyebrows. He looked to her, his bright eyes serious, his voice low. There was a pause as he made sure to have her attention.

"...what's your favorite joke?"

The Guardsman remained still, face passive, until the edges of his mouth turned upward and he let out a smile and laugh.

"And if there was one thing in the galaxy you could change, with a click of your fingers, what would it be?"

Natasi Fortan​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi grinned at his reaction to her impersonation. "I'm not a natural mimic, so I'm terribly pleased you found it so convincing," she said with a little laugh.

She was surprised by how comfortable the conversation with Dyrn felt. Sometimes getting to know someone -- even someone you obviously liked personally and found charming, amusing, and attractive -- was not easy and could feel awkward and clunky. Not so here. She felt rather like she was catching up with an old friend, even if the topic of conversation was new. She was sure it had to do with the fact that they shared close quarters for months and had developed an intimate shorthand. They could communicate by glance or gesture in public and be effortlessly understood. It was nice.

"This is fun," she said once Ploughby had come to collect the plates and take orders, then gone out again. She smiled genuinely across at Dyrn. He had know way of knowing that she was wishing the same thing; that she could stand and round the table to kiss him. This newfangled attraction to the Guard Captain had resurrected things within Natasi that she hadn't felt in some time: the squirming, blushing thrill of mutual attraction; a gnawing uncertainty of how she was being perceived; the intoxicating flush of desire. "I hope you're enjoying yourself, too, all things considered. I guess some would consider it rather old-fashioned to do this as a... courting ritual. A date. Whatever it is." She took another sip of her cider. It did nothing to help with the flush in her cheeks.

"I enjoyed the training session more than I thought I would," she said after a moment. "Not just -- that part -- but the instructional part. It was nice to have an exercise that was a little more involved than running on a treadmill." Natasi rested her chin on the back of her hand as she studied her companion earnestly. "I hope we can do more of it. Not just for the self-defense -- although that is certainly interesting and empowering -- but for the sake of it. If it doesn't take you away from your duties, that is," she added with a smirk.

He asked her about her favorite joke. She grinned, her eyes rolling upwards as she searched her memory. After a moment she alighted upon something, and the thought almost made her laugh aloud. After all, the best jokes were self-deprecating, right? "All right," she said quietly. "It goes a little something like this: why are Galidraani people like coconuts?" She looked at him expectantly. After a beat, she answered: "They're hard on the inside, but once you crack them open they can be quite sweet. Also they're often full of booze and holding an umbrella. It's the perfect joke, you see, because it lampoons our personality, our posturing, our alcoholism, and our weather, all in one joke. My father used to tell it to my mother, who pretended to find it much funnier than it was. Especially on what must have been the six hundredth time."

His next question was a bit more complicated. She made a hmming, thoughtful sound, and looked into the middle distance, squinting a little. "I never fancied myself terribly interesting," Natasi said by way of prefacing her answer. "But I never believed that I was a boring person, either. Until now. Because the truth is, if I could change anything it would be to bring peace to the galaxy. Conflict and violence cost so much in lives and resources, both of which could be used in countless other ways, to improve the lives of everyone. I think about how many great, golden ages the galaxy could have had if not for the wars and all their consequences. What diseases might we have cured? What technology might we have developed?"

Natasi sighed quietly, then fell silent and reflective for a few moments before blinking herself back into the moment. "Sorry, I suppose that is a little philosophical for what we're doing here. But say galactic peace wasn't an option, I guess... well, obviously I'd make it so that dessert calories didn't count. That's the right choice, obviously." She finished her cider and set it to one side, smiling at Dyrn. "How about you? What ills would you solve if you had magic fingers to snap a solution into place? And obviously I want to hear your joke, too."

The Supreme Leader acknowledged in the back of her mind that she could become quite lost watching Dyrn talk; the way his lips framed the words, the little smiles, the way his brows furrowed sometimes. The most dangerous man in the First Order, she thought with a smirk.

Dyrn Grav

 

[Dyrn Grav]

​

Dyrn smiled.

"A lot of fun, yes," He said in response to Natasi saying the same, to which the Guardsman nodded. There was a want to know more, to see beyond what the public saw of the Supreme Leader of the First Order, and Dyrn couldn't help but enjoy the opportunity sharing the evening had given to do just that. When Natasi mentioned the courting ritual, or the date, before a sip of her cider, Dyrn reached up to scratch his chin. "A date? Most certainly, I like to think so... and sometimes I feel the old fashioned ways are perfectly fine, because they can remind sentients that some of the strongest connections can be shared in even the simplest of places. Like a local pub."

And it was true, for Dyrn, who felt that the galaxy seemed to focus too much on grand displays or shows of affection. Granted, sometimes those had a place in a relationship, but for the most part it was the day-to-day where it mattered. Or at least that's what he had learned from his parents growing up. Both of the older Grav's were uncomplicated by nature, easily amused by small things when together, and it seemed to make them happier for it. Dyrn hoped that - perhaps one day - Natasi could enjoy those kinds of things with him, where they could just 'be'...

"Training helps with a lot more than fitness, most definitely," Dyrn said, utterly happy that Natasi had enjoyed the session. There had been highlights, for sure, but overall it had been an excellent chance to bond. And that was important. "We can do as much, or as little, as you like. And I do not see training you as a failure to perform my duty, either. Quite the opposite, I think. We work on self-defense and as a result you are safer for it. Ideal, if you ask me. I do admit, I've never quite taught anyone the way I am with you... so maybe we will just have to keep-- experimenting to see if it suits you? I think it's very important to remain an effective instructor. Being open to new methods."

Dyrn gave a mischievous smirk. He couldn't help but tease a little. When Natasi blushed, and glanced away, he adored it. He wondered if it was a Galidraani trait, or something of her own personality, or perhaps both? Either way, he decided to behave as Natasi went on to share a joke she liked, to which Dyrn listened attentively. Her reaction was contagious, as the Guardsman waited until the end, then chuckled, as the complexity was revealed. In a way it also helped Dyrn realize that, because he had seen Natasi's softer side, maybe he was through that coconut shell - or something like it. Either way, it was amusing as a joke, and he could appreciate it. Even the little add-on about Natasi's parents, and how they shared it.

Ah, the end to war and eternal peace wish, Dyrn thought to himself with a wry smile. He had expected something like that, honestly. It seemed to be the go-to for most sentients, or at least that was the impression he had; it wasn't like Dyrn went around asking that to everyone he met, but there was a better than not chance most would want peace. Oh... seems there's another answer -- oh, very cute...

"Hah, an obvious choice, yes," Dyrn laughed at the dessert calories not counting wish. "You could enjoy all the sticky toffee pudding, I bet."

As Natasi finished her cider, she placed the glass to one side, and asked Dyrn his thoughts on those questions.

"It's a complex question, I realize. And aside from the galactic peace - and dessert calories, of course - I would have to say..." Dyrn thought, as he tapped his chin, considering. He had a number of options, truly, but he wanted to say the one that jumped out at him the most. "I would remove the Force. All of it. Snap and gone. I just don't feel it's been very helpful to the galaxy, not in the hands of Sith or Jedi, if I'm being honest... both sides have had their share of questionable application with the power, and the galaxy still isn't better for it. In my opinion, anyway."

Dyrn took a moment to gauge Natasi's reaction, before he raised his eyebrows.

"Or... that we could decide what something tasted like? So any food or drink could taste like steak. Or caramel. Or whatever you felt like."

A lot less serious an answer, certainly, and it only occurred to Dyrn afterward that he had been mildly aware of Natasi's own circumstances with the Force. Hopefully the first answer didn't imply the wrong notion, not toward her, or show any kind of insensitivity to her situation. The last thing Dyrn wanted was to make Natasi think he believed her use of the Force - if she trained and did so - would be unhelpful or damaging to the galaxy... so he pushed on, and went to the joke, with a clear of his throat.

"Stop me if you've heard this one," Dyrn said with a smirk, as he sat forward and lowered his voice. "A Stormtrooper, a Royal Guard and Emperor Palpatine all fall down a reactor shaft - who reaches the bottom first? Palpatine. The Guard wouldn't dare presume to fall without permission, and the Stormtrooper would have trouble even hitting the ground."

It might have been a bit lame, definitely dated, but it was still one that Dyrn laughed at. His father would tell it usually. Still, the dessert had yet to arrive, and the pair likely had some more conversation time before they were interrupted by Mr. Ploughby again. Dyrn figured he would pass the proverbial question baton to his companion, to see if Natasi had anything she might want to ask him:

"Was there anything you wanted to know about me? About anything at all. Consider me an open book for you to read."

Natasi Fortan​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi leaned forward, eyebrows raising at Dyrn's response. Remove the Force? An interesting idea; one that Natasi herself would have endorsed before her resurrection. "I'm not sure how familiar you are with the Cosmic Balance, but it's a very similar worldview. My mother was a follower and my brother and I were raised in the faith. The basic premise is that the universe is in balance, and that each action has an equal and opposite reaction elsewhere. Each misfortune that befalls someone is offset elsewhere in the galaxy with a boon of some nature." She paused and took a sip of her water. "And of course, the Force throws everything out of balance. The benefit Force Users enjoy are inherently unbalancing, throwing unnecessary misfortune into the equation."

She frowned and looked gravely across the table at Dyrn. "More than that, people with an affinity to the Force seem to view their endeavors as inherently more justified and justifiable than those of ordinary people. They have a tendency to view Force insensitive people as the supporting cast -- and that's putting things diplomatically." Natasi looked down; she realized she was describing herself now. It felt hypocritical to be critical when she, now a Force Sensitive, was the head of a major galactic power. But her strength of conviction was no different from when she was a Force insensitive Governor, Moff and Grand Moff. That had to count for something, she thought.

"I'm getting... preachy," said Natasi with an apologetic smile.

The Supreme Leader tried to put it behind her. It was supposed to be an enjoyable evening. She cupped her face in both hands as Dyrn told his joke. A genuine laugh escaped her lips. "Now that is comedy," she said appreciatively, her dark eyes gleaming in the dim light of the pub dining room. "Say what you will about stormtroopers and royalty, obviously the hero of the story is the guardsman. Such care and consideration. It's good to know those standards are still very high." She smiled broadly across the table at him. She was about to say more when Ploughby entered the room again with the rest of the items.

She fell silent and let Plougby get on with his work, then sighed happily. She reached over and rested a hand on his again. "He won't interrupt again unless we ask," she said quietly, a hint of something more in her voice. She squeezed his hand lightly before releasing it to spread her napkin across her lap.

"I would like to read your book, Dyrn," Natasi said as she picked up her fork. "There's a lot I'd like to know, but I don't want to skip ahead. But while we're exploring..." She lofted her eyebrows in excitement, like a child surveying a pile of presents she was about to open. "I guess I should like to know if you subscribe to any particular religion? And would you be interested in perhaps teaching me to shoot? I know a little, having spent some time hunting, but it wasn't geared towards combat. Also, does your sister have children? I believe I read in your file that you don't, but -- you spoke so beautifully about taking your child to see the lights on your homeworld."

Natasi looked up at him with a slightly guarded gaze, her eyes slightly hidden by lid and lash. "How many would you have, if you had a choice, do you think? Oh goodness, is that too personal?"

Dyrn Grav

 

[Dyrn Grav]

​

The Guardsman settled in as Natasi began to speak about the Cosmic Balance, a segue of sorts likely from his snap-finger wish, which was understandable. It was interesting to hear about the religion - or belief - as it was explained, as it seemed to approach things from Dyrn's point of view with the intention of co-existing with the Force in balance. In the Guardman's opinion the balance could be very easily achieved if it was just... gone.

The galaxy might even be a bit more peaceful, too, Dyrn thought to himself. Not entirely. But a bit more.

When Lady Fortan went on to explain her impression of the Force, and those with it, Dyrn nodded. "I understand what you mean," He said in a low voice as he tried to offer a smile. It had become a bit darker in mood. Perhaps his answer hadn't been the best one to offer. "It could be said about most religions, really. Or anyone that answers to a higher power than themselves. There is a reason soldiers don't tend to have delusions of grandeur... their leaders just have more brass on their coats."

He added the last with a chuckle. Hopefully it helped to lighten some of the mood. Dyrn had been a Stormtrooper, he could make the joke about leadership, since he had seen all levels of it. Ironically Dyrn was now at the top of it, in his field, so there was no doubt similar jabs were being made about him by others who knew him.

"I also believe that someone who focuses on their own willpower and determination, what they can achieve as a person before relying on a magical power to help them, have little to fear about being seen as putting themselves above others," Dyrn smiled at Natasi, giving her a knowing look. It was no secret that she was in an awkward position now that her latent - and delayed - sensitivity had been revealed. "Especially when they are so clearly concerned with the lives and well being of all those around them... that doesn't sound like a lead star in a holofilm to me, only concerned with the limelight.

"And it's not a problem. I like hearing your thoughts on things, Natasi. Preachy or not."

It also seemed the joke about the Emperor, Stormtrooper and Royal Guard was taken well. He chuckled along with Natasi's laugh, his bright eyes enjoying the sight of her genuine expression. "I suppose so. Funnily, I have been a Stormtrooper, also. So given the stereotype, I guess I would rather be an over-loyal Royal Guard in this instance - it certainly beats the other two outcomes."

Aim-challenged soldier, or Emperor down a reactor. Not ideal, in either respect.

After Ploughby had come and gone, there remained the desserts. Natasi also placed her hand on Dyrn's, as he glanced down and listened to her mention the owner wouldn't return unless called. That meant they were alone, not to be interrupted, and the evening was theirs to do with as they would. It was intoxicating for Dyrn, as he considered all the things he wanted to do, but wouldn't. Not without Natasi's permission, it was very important to him in that regard, and he also remained very aware of her culture. Still, small gestures of spontaneity could be charming...

"So we are alone then? No risk of interruptions?" Dyrn asked, eyebrows raised, as he slowly turned his hand and lifted Natasi's with it. He leaned forward and gently kissed her fingers, before resuming the handhold on the table. "I hope I can do that without worry, then." He smiled. Dyrn wanted to do more, it was certainly difficult not to kiss Natasi with so many eyes around them at most times, but there were other conversation points to discuss; they could always come back to the intimacy, there was no rush.

Plus, it seemed Natasi was enjoying the opportunity to ask questions.

"Chapter one..."

When asked if he followed any sort of religion, Dyrn considered. Dyrn had never really been a religious sentient, he supposed. He knew of the Force, but he had never associated it - or any other mystical or spiritual power - with any kind of entity that had willful control over the galaxy. So did he believe in God? Or Gods? He guessed not, now that he had to actually consider the notion. No, the Guardsman had always had a healthy appreciation for what a species could achieve; whether it be technological, physical, mental or any other advancement means. There was one thing Dyrn agreed with: the Force was not a balanced.

"I am familiar with the Cosmic Balance, not as a follower, but I've been introduced to the concept by preachers or converts," He said slowly, as he looked to Natasi. Religion was a slippery slope. Though from her points previously, he had some degree of relief, in knowing that they likely fell on the same side of it all. "I was never convinced. I've never been able to use the Force, so whether that influenced by disinterest in it all? Perhaps. Maybe not. All I know is that everything I have done, has been done by effort alone. No power, no mysterious Force. And I believe that is a good thing, it keeps it -- simple, I think."

Dyrn knew of Natasi's Force Sensitivity. They had spoken of it briefly in the past. He didn't want to insult her personal realization with the power, but he also didn't want to lie about his position on it all. It was already potentially causing friction, the Force, and that seemed to be exactly the experience Dyrn had with it at any point in his life - it was disruptive. One thing Dyrn could control, however, was training...

"I can teach you to shoot, certainly," The Guardsman nodded. "I am skilled with blaster pistols, and some rifles. Don't fret, I may have been a Stormtrooper once, but my aim has vastly improved since becoming a Royal Guard. I jest, of course." The stereotype for the troopers was hard to avoid, it had become something of a running joke for those brave soldiers in the white armor. Still, if one couldn't laugh about one thing, then one couldn't really laugh about anything. "And no, my sister has no children that I am aware of. I haven't spoken to her in almost a year, though I doubt my parents would let that information remain a secret for long... my mother is very excited over the idea of grandchildren."

Aren't they all?

"I do not, no," Dyrn said simply. He smiled, then looked down. "That was more -- eh, future stating, I suppose." He finished, but then looked back to Natasi and saw her expression as she asked about children, were he to have them. "No, not at all. I have nothing to hide from you, honestly, and getting to know me on a personal level is kind of the point of the evening... but as to children, I would say at least one? Then more, if my spouse were agreeable. I wouldn't want to presume a number, when my part in the process is at the beginning and end, as it were. I am also Keshian, but do not see the need to marry within my species. If you were wondering."

Dyrn smirked, despite himself and his serious words. It was amazing how he felt comfortable with Natasi, discussing any number of things. He did have a few questions he wanted to know, however:

"If it's not improper, I have wondered... do you see yourself marrying again?" It was a potentially -- loaded question, he admitted, since it cut through a lot of the guessing and gauging of any relationship Natasi was in. Though he didn't want to scare or unnerve her. "Just curiously, of course. I also suppose fair is fair, do you see yourself wanting another child, or even or more than one?"

Still, Dyrn couldn't deny the alluring smell of the food in front of them. He changed the subject, if only to lighten things for a moment or two, as he motioned to the desserts.

"Should we try these? Well, me, more accurately. Is there any particular method to eating it - like dipping, from the previous meal? Or do we just dig in and enjoy?"

Natasi Fortan​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi listened along as Dyrn explained his views on religion and faith, the Force and Force practitioners. She was religious herself, but she didn't like to think of herself as pushy or proselytizing. The Cosmic Balance really wasn't that way; it wasn't a faith that demanded obedience or withheld salvation. It simply posited the belief of how the galaxy worked and that was that. Its believers tried to behave in a way that would serve the capital-B Balance. Natasi's parents had been a mismatched set this way: her mother, a devoted Equilibriate, had been married to her father, an atheist, with no difficulty on that score for two decades.

Natasi, herself an Equilibriate, had been married to Talbot Vitalis, a member of some monotheistic religion or another. Their relationship had not been as loving, nor as long, as her parents', but it wasn't the difference in religion that was to blame.

"I quite agree with you," Natasi said quietly. "I have often wondered if it is possible to -- sever my connect to the Force. I've found it slightly uncomfortable, if I'm being perfectly frank. But the problem with that is that putting out those feelers will undoubtedly expose my predicament, and that I could not abide. At all."

The conversation continued, interrupted briefly by Ploughby's delivery of their desserts. Dyrn took her hand, lifted it to his lips. She blushed and grinned in an altogether giddy, toothy kind of way before looking down shyly. "Oh Dyrn," she murmured softly, looking up from behind her lashes, a note of mischief in her tone. "I'll give you a week to stop doing that." It was testament to Dyrn's charm and demeanor that Natasi was distracted from her sticky toffee pudding by his ministrations. It was not what one would call an easy feat. His breath felt hot on the soft skin of her hand, his lips surprisingly soft.

He drew his lips away from her hand and she watched with a touch of regret as he lowered it back down the table. Even still, just resting her hand with his was surprisingly intimate and even more surprisingly comfortable -- surprising for Natasi, who had always thought of herself as less than demonstrative and slow to display affection. There was something different about Dyrn Grav that had shifted Natasi's perspectives, apparently. She didn't hate it.

"I'll never know where that sort of stereotype got started," Natasi said with an amusedly exasperated tone, in response to his quip about stormtrooper aim. "Sheev Palpatine didn't take over the galaxy and maintain an iron grip on it for three decades with slipshod troopers and poor aiming. And he didn't lose that grip because of poor aim, either." The Supreme Leader looked blankly across the table at her companion, then smiled self-consciously. "It's not a big deal, it's just -- interesting, I think." Interesting. Irritating. Like the assumption that any government that put troopers in white armor and helmets were terrible, no-good, evil dictatorships hell-bent on world domination, and not simply using effective armor. "But at any rate, yes, I'd like to get some additional training in pistols, carbines, and rifles. It sounds like you'll be able to get me on the right track."

She suspected that Dyrn didn't mean to be funny with his commentary on his mother's eagerness for grandchildren, but nevertheless it brought a smile to her lips. "That's funny," Natasi said over an indulgent giggle. "It's funny that while there are many, many things that divide us as cultures, the drive for mothers to have grandchildren seems almost universal. Although, credits to croissants, there are probably just as many species in the galaxy where mothers eat their young. But let's not think about that."

Dyrn's reference to their desserts interrupted her consideration of his question about marriage and motherhood. She blinked herself back into the present and looked down at where he was indicated. "Oh -- of course," she said. "No, you just -- take the little jug," Natasi demonstrated by lifting the small metal pitcher, almost too warm to grab by the tiny handle and tipping it so that the molten toffee caramel sauce inside drizzled down liberally over the pudding. "And pour out the sauce. By the Balance, look how it soaks in? It's just this side of pornographic," she said on a giggle. "Now you mustn't tell anyone you saw me do this, but -- it's critical."

Natasi lifted her knife and slid it into the tiny pitcher, scraping the edges so that as much of the sauce came out as she could muster. "I can almost hear my grandmother telling me off, but trust me, it's worth it. Plus, she's been dead for years so she can't hurt us now." She set the knife and pitcher down, then picked up her spoon and dug into the dessert.

All this demonstration had given Natasi some time to consider Dyrn's questions and their broader implications. She had not admitted it to anyone before now, but the truth was that she wanted to marry again. Being Supreme Leader was a lonely job and it never stopped, not for a moment. Even now, in this pub, Natasi was all too aware of the responsibility she had for the lives and livelihoods of her subjects on the other side of the galaxy. It was always with her, this presence at the back of her mind. Those around her were always looking for her to do something or say something -- or do nothing or say nothing -- to signify approval or disapproval or favor or disfavor. A spouse -- a true partner, a friend as well as a lover -- would be a tremendous help simply by being there without angling for anything.

She took a bite of the dessert and made an appreciative noise -- she would rabidly deny that it was a moan -- and chewed and swallowed. "By the Balance, that's good," said Natasi after dabbing her lips with her napkin. "But -- to circle back to your question -- the truth is I would like to be married again. My first marriage was not the most... well, let's say that it was a qualified success. And while it may not have seemed conventionally happy -- Talbot and I were not besotted by one another, by any means -- it was nice to have a partner. I would like to experience that again, someday."

Her eyes flickered up to Dyrn's. "There is something quite liberating about it, in a way, to have a partner who will tell me how things really are and not what they think I want to hear, like so many courtiers do. Someone who will be frank and honest. It's -- it's rather a large task; as I've said before I'm not especially easy to live with in that context."

Natasi paused and seized her brandy, taking a sizeable chunk out of its contents in one gulp before setting it down. She hesitated before speaking further, certain that she already sounded deranged and that wherever she went with this conversation next, she wouldn't help her case. She took a shaky breath and went on: "So... yes. I would like to marry again. The problem with my sort of people is that we marry for life. Divorce is rather a four-letter word for my people. My aunt nearly detonated the family's social standing by divorcing. Perhaps she was brave, but she was also reckless, and I'm afraid I just don't have it in me to scandalize on that scale." She shrugged and absently swirled the remaining contents of the brandy in its glass; the dark amber liquid clung to the glass in a most satisfying way.

"And yes, I would like to have more children. At least another pair. It seems so cruel to have one all by its lonesome, a decade or more younger than its next sibling, without a playmate." She looked over at Dyrn, meeting his gaze once again. This time she didn't flinch. This was, perhaps, not the most conventional of first dates, but she supposed it made sense to discuss these items without a veil around them. She would hate to lead him on thinking one thing if the reality was something different. A future that he didn't want, with expectations he couldn't or didn't wish to meet. There was attraction there, to be sure, but it remained to be seen whether that would lead to anything more than a few kisses, some shared jokes, and longing gazes.

"I don't mean to put you on the spot," said Natasi slowly as she nudged her sticky toffee pudding with her spoon. "But I suppose it's important to know -- now, or sooner rather than later -- whether, if it came to it, whether that sort of life could be for you. Before we do anything... rash," she murmured, flushing slightly. She could think of all sorts of things she wanted to do, but which would be entirely improper to do with someone for whom a future together was not likely. "Life as a consort would have much different responsibilities to a life as Guard Captain. I'm not asking you for a commitment or anything so absurd; I'm really just wondering... what your thoughts are."

Natasi wondered if the cider and the brandy and the light-headed feelings of fresh romance were conspiring to rob her of her senses. She had rather let herself run away with things, and now she felt like she was perhaps out in the weeds. "Sorry if I'm..." Natasi sighed. "I'm not trying to sound ridiculous, I promise."

Dyrn Grav

 

[Dyrn Grav]

​

The Guardsman nodded with the confirmation of the training with blasters. The points raised about Palpatine from Natasi were interesting, and Dyrn could agree with them. While he couldn't say he agreed with the long-dead Emperor's choices, or how he enacted them, the Guardsman couldn't deny that a lot of that past Galactic Empire had paved the way for the First Order; which, consequently, brought about both Supreme Leader and the Royal Guard, and then obviously the pair at the table. It was interesting to think what might have been different, especially now in the present as Dyrn looked to Natasi, were the past different and the series of events that led to them now hadn't happened. Would they have found one another?

I like to think so.

Dyrn chuckled at the seemingly universal want for mother's and grandchildren, something that was apparently everywhere, and even choked out a laugh at the mention of the opposite side of that. There were certainly some... odd species, to say the least, and the likelihood of all kinds of reactions to offspring were on the proverbial table. No pun intended, from Dyrn's side. As it was, there was pressure on his sister - Faroe - to marry and have kids, and Dyrn felt a little sympathy for his younger sister in that regard. Her degree of expectation had been severely different, but no less difficult, compared to her brother's. Still, that was another discussion entirely, and Dyrn much preferred to focus on Natasi right now.

Besides, the Supreme Leader was explaining the complexities of the dessert; and the Guardsman had to pay attention.

"I see," Dyrn said as he peered down to the small jug. He picked it up, did the same as Natasi, by pouring the liquid within over the pudding. It smelled wonderful. The caramel really wafted and Dyrn could feel his mouth getting wet. "I--I see you really enjoy this dessert. Certainly, uh, exciting. And you have my word, I will not mention how you scraped out the caramel sauce jug with a knife. Promise." Dyrn didn't feel the need to go that far, so he just levitated the jug a while to let the sauce come out as it would, before he reached over with his free hand - reluctantly letting go of Natasi's - and flicked a finger under the jug lip to stop the drips. He licked his fingertip, nodded with a "Hm." to himself, and smiled. "It's delicious. And that's only the sauce..."

Dyrn began to spoon portions of the dessert into his mouth. He considered the first bite thoughtfully, as he glanced down with a serious expression and tasted the flavors. He found them very appealing. A thoroughly enjoyable food item, possibly even better than his own preference for a sweet. He looked up as Natasi wiped her lips with a napkin, and brought up the questions he had asked minutes prior. They had kind of been pushed aside with the mention of the dessert, not entirely by accident from the Guardsman, who had felt that - maybe - he had stepped too close to sharing more than intended... but he also felt that there was little reason not to share with Natasi. The evening was for that very thing. Sharing. Bonding.

So marriage is something she would consider, Dyrn nodded as Natasi explained about her previous marriage. That meant possibilities. That's good. I feel that was an important ground to see from both of us, to have that understanding in the open early.

Dyrn matched Natasi's glance, as she mentioned the want of a partner who was honest and truthful, even when they disagreed. He nodded. There was a part of him that understood what the Supreme Leader spoke of, there was certainly a lot to be gained from having openness and trust, to hear opposing opinions, but to still know the other cared and guarded the spouse's back. In an attempt not to jinx or otherwise tempt fate, Dyrn kept his response to a minimum - "I agree." - before he took another bite of the pudding from his spoon, and Natasi sipped some brandy. She went on to mention that marriage was for life, divorce a very touchy subject within her culture, and Dyrn accepted that.

"I cannot say my experience with marriage is existent, since I haven't been married," The Guardsman said in a low voice as he swallowed down some of the caramel taste. "But I like to think that when a pair do marry, it's with that commitment taken very seriously. There are some animals that mate for life, so surely intelligent sentients can do the same? I don't mean to sound flippant or dismissive. I feel the same way, truly."

Dyrn watched the brandy swirl in the glass across the table. The next topic interested him somewhat. As the discussion continued, and the real thoughts of relationship expectations and wants were spoken, Dyrn couldn't help but appreciate the honesty. Sometimes there felt like too many games were played, like with his past experiences, where one thing was said but another meaning was intended. Dyrn might have been a Guardsman, but those kinds of women confused him, and he definitely preferred an understanding presented plainly. Especially for something as important as finding a partner to spend life with. And so Natasi mentioned that children were a possibility, yes, and that was equally exciting and terrifying.

I've always enjoyed the idea of children, but obviously I have no real experience or knowledge of what that requires. I also find it hard to believe my own mother when she says raising us was easy... something about the way she says it, perhaps? Heh.

However, Dyrn's thoughts paused, as an important point was brought up. The Supreme Leader would, accurately, have a partner that was a consort. Dyrn's life would change, completely, in every respect. His status as a Royal Guardsman would be ended, his Captaincy would cease, his goals and career permanently readjusted in favor of other life pursuits - whatever those might be. Dyrn couldn't see himself just making starship models all day, he would need something to do. But what that was evaded him, currently. Still, it was a reality to consider, and Natasi seemed to be feeling uncertain, as the Supreme Leader asked his thoughts and apologized for sounding ridiculous.

Across his side of the table, Dyrn lowered his spoon into the bowl and let it go. It clanked with a metallic ring. For a moment the Guardsman thought, but he kept his gaze on Natasi, his bright eyes looking for her dark eyes. It wasn't that he couldn't disagree to those expectations, so much as he wanted to be very clear - and very precise - in his response to the questions asked. Finally, after a minute, Dyrn nodded to himself and smiled, as he reached out for Natasi's hand again and - were she willing to resume the touch - he would offer a reassuring squeeze...

"You do not sound ridiculous, not at all," He said. "And my life has always been in flux. My life expectancy has never been long. But because of that, I have learned to adapt quickly to many things, such as changes in a battlefield. Or new training regimens. Or security assignments. All of those sorts of things are important to be able to receive, decide on, and enact. Lives are at stake, after all. So, I feel confident saying that my decision making process is acceptably decent, and the processes I use to reach them are sound--"

Dyrn exhaled, but kept smiling.

"--and if our being together, for life, involves I change? That's acceptable to me. I adapt, always. I have no plans to be a Royal Guard Captain for the rest of my life, I expect different career paths and new goals. Besides, were this to happen and were we to reach that point in the future, I can say I will not sit idly by as your consort. I will stand with you, by your side - to your left - and be involved in as much as I possibly could be... I am too young to retire or certainly too driven to be put on a shelf by anyone's standards. Besides, I do not believe that would be your want, nor would it be appropriate for me to be seen or feel as though I'm taking the easy life resting on your back.

"I want you to be with someone you can consider an equal, not a subject or servant. A true partner with honesty, trust, and love."

It was very important that Natasi understand Dyrn would not become complacent or inactive, were he in her life to that extent or stature.

"I... hope that wasn't too much, or too inappropriate. I'm trying to be as honest as I can be, without trying to pressure you into feeling as though what this is-" Dyrn motioned between them, to himself and Natasi. "-has to happen. Please don't misunderstand, I want to explore this with you. But if you feel I can't provide what you need, or want... well... I believe that is what we're doing now, trying to determine those factors? And hopefully over many months to come, not just this lovely evening, as I ramble and ruin it."

Dyrn gave an awkward smile, then looked down to the pudding. He picked up the spoon with intense concentration, to let the air clear a bit, perhaps allow any discomfort disappear, before he added.

"I really enjoy this sticky date pudding. Almost as much as I enjoy being with you... almost."

Dyrn looked back to Natasi, bright eyes only seeing her.

Natasi Fortan​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi studied Dyrn as he answered, her gaze flickering across his features. She preferred to read people this way, rather than by using her newfound abilities in the Force. And knowing how Dyrn felt about it, she felt it would be disrespectful to sense him in this way. Of course, she was aware of his presence, and any particularly strong emotions that he threw off would be cognizable -- just like she was aware of the presence of the patrons in the pub and the general mood -- but she wanted to know Dyrn as he would know her, not with magic or 'intuition' but by observation and conversation. Her dark eyes lingered on his lips, then rose to his eyes.

The bright blue was almost breathtaking.

She placed her hand in his; his grip was gentle but comforting when he squeezed lightly. His response was genuine, and Natasi didn't feel any pressure -- except, of course, the crushing pressure of the expectations of being the scion of an ancient aristocratic family and the head of a new royal line, not to mention a nation of subjects, the government, and the establishment.

Natasi tried to put that to one side.

"You needn't worry about a life of idleness," said Natasi with a smile. "I intend to lead a working royal family. I would expect members of the royal family to serve in some form or another -- military or civic. After that, my expectation would be that they take on good causes and use their privileged positions to benefit others. It's not a Spartan life, exactly, but I want to avoid the image of a family of fat-cats living off the government. So I'm sure there will be plenty for you to do. And knowing you as I do, I can't imagine you would give up the responsibility to keep me safe even if you were to retire from the Royal Guards."

She smiled across the table at him and cocked her head to one side. "Nor would I stop relying upon you for that, in any event."

The Supreme Leader withdrew her hand and trusted that her companion would view the gesture for what it was: her inability to resist any longer her decadent dessert. As she set about to take another bite, she said: "And you know, we're rather in uncharted waters here. Sieger Ren did not live his life in the public view. He relied upon me, as Grand Moff, to be the public face of his reign and to sell his vision to them. And of course, he didn't have a spouse or children, so we can set our own expectations and traditions. You know, if that were to be where things end up," she added, a note of chagrin in her tone.

"You are such a flatterer," said Natasi with a chuckle at his treacle-sweet compliment. She left unsaid what she felt: that if whatever this was didn't end up working out, she worried that they wouldn't be able to remain friends. She didn't know if she could bear seeing him every day but not speaking as they'd come to do. No shared smiles, no knowing looks, no training sessions, no stolen kisses. The only thing worse would be not to see each other at all.

"Now... on to Chapter Two, right?" she asked. She took another bite of her pudding and then dabbed her lips. "You said you could dance and gamble as part of your cover identity. Is that something your job put on you, or did you already know how to gamble and they built the identity with that in mind?" She took another bite, washed it down with a sip of port.

"Is there a particular game you like? Tell me everything," she said with a grin.

Dyrn Grav

 

[Dyrn Grav]

​

When Natasi began to talk, Dyrn watched. He watched her eyes, intent and dark, and her lips, with each word formed. There had been some hesitation to delve so strongly into his thoughts on the questions asked, so as to avoid saying too much or implying too heavily, though it seemed her reaction was parallel to his own. Natasi went on to discuss the concerns about a life of idleness, confirming what Dyrn had thought - as there was no way Lady Fortan would allow anyone to shirk duty - and went on to explain that a position in the family would come with expectations. Those meant goals, purpose, and generally a reason to do. That was good. The mention of a how being a royal wasn't a Spartan lifestyle, and the subsequent fat-cat comment, caused the Guardsman to smirk. Dyrn supposed that, yes, were things to develop as they discussed then his life would be drastically different.

How would he handle moving up the social ladder, on a galactic scale no less? It was hard to say.

Natasi's points on Dyrn's want to protect her, regardless of his status, were very true. "It would be the one command I would have trouble hearing," The Guardsman smiled, as she went on to say that there would be some kind of reliance for safety from him. "That is fortunate. I expect to maintain my fitness and combat prowess, even after retirement, so hearing that makes me glad."

It was then time for Natasi to start eating the dessert. Dyrn joined in, as he resumed spooning small mouthfuls from his own, before he glanced up to her. Sieger Ren was mentioned, to which Dyrn nodded, as the points were made. He could agree that there were a lot of decisions to be made, were things to go as intended by the pair, and Lady Fortan aptly considered that they could potentially have very clear waters - at least when it came to establishing their own methods, as none had been done prior. That was a degree of comfort, really, as the Guardsman felt they could - would? - have the freedom to make the best choices for whatever circumstance they found themselves.

"I hope they do." Dyrn said quietly, as he glanced down and ate some more of the pudding. "And this is very nice. Too nice, perhaps."

There was some flippant concern over eating too much pudding, and becoming unfit, but that struck Dyrn as lacking pith honestly. He was very capable of self-control and wouldn't ever find himself so enjoying of a dessert as to lose what he had worked so hard for - namely to be in his prime. Instead, the Guardsman finished off several more mouthfuls, then put the spoon to one side of what remained of the pudding, before he slid it away from himself slightly. He didn't want to overindulge. Dyrn smiled at Natasi's mention of flattery.

"I don't intend to be," He said genuinely. He offered a small shrug and a smile toward the end. "If I feel the need to say something, I do... it is as simple as that, really."

Dyrn had become very familiar with Natasi over many years, mainly through observation and preparation training for his role as a Royal Guard; so he kind of felt there might have been something unsaid, a feeling, perhaps a barely perceived micro-expression that had faintly registered in his mind. But he also didn't pursue it. Dyrn wanted Natasi to feel comfortable discussing anything with him, whenever she was ready. No one needed a prier to try and coax a private thought from the mind, after all.

Ah, yes, the dancing and gambling for my cover identity...

With a click of his tongue, Dyrn pondered for a scant few moments. "I was taught to dance, nothing overly intricate I admit, because of my need to blend with upper-class society," He smirked, feeling a little foolish. It made perfect sense, really, yet to speak about it aloud was a little embarrassing? That meant he cared what Natasi thought, right? "I learned a number of skills to support any need to perform that aspect of my position. Other Royal Guards are similarly trained, I might add.

"It is important we can move about in different levels of public."

And the gambling...

"As for the gambling? Well, I've always been good at reading people, and so that felt like a natural development to learn," Dyrn leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table edge, as he relaxed some. "The identity came first, I should mention, and it made sense to me - and my Captain, at the time - to add a personal touch to Vykk Draygo, something I was good at personally, combined with what one might expect from a rich playboy."

With a smile, Dyrn added.

"I... admit that a friendly game, with low stakes, can be enjoyable. But I do not gamble beyond fun, without my cover identity, no."

Part of him wondered if Natasi had a concern about his spending money on the activity. Nonetheless, it wasn't the case. Gambling was purely part of Vykk's lifestyle, not Dyrn's, and would remain separated as such. Besides, who could justify spending credits on luck? It seemed far more beneficial to Dyrn to save the credits, invest in safer options, and not risk losing so much on little more than chance. Though, I also try to avoid chance as often as possible, so that's no surprise. I do enjoy maintaining control in certain situations.

"As for a game, I can do very well in most card varieties. Sabacc, for one. That is the most common with the identity." Dyrn thought. "If I were to pick a favorite? I would say... Klikklak. It's a game for two, actually, and the rules involve each receiving a card from a Sabacc deck. Then, there is a five-to-ten minute timer, where both players speak to one another and try to determine if their opponent's card is higher or lower than their own. Then, the bet is set, and the winner revealed." He added, grinning. "There is also Pazaak. The game is very simple, you pull cards from a Sabaac deck and try to equal twenty - or as close to. Whoever goes over, loses."

Dyrn inclined his head a fraction, as he raised his eyebrow.

"I wouldn't want to bore you with the details of it all, really," He said, before he added. "Not unless you want to know. Another time, perhaps? The low stakes for fun could be, hm, interesting."

The Guardsman couldn't help it. He had to. There was part of him - more insistent by the minute - that wanted to be so close to Natasi, and at least a small degree of flirtation assuaged the want temporarily. Still, bright blue eyes sought out her lips, as he swallowed and subconsciously licked his own. With a clear of the throat, Dyrn inhaled, and then asked:

"Do you have any games you enjoy? Or perhaps ones you used to enjoy? I can't imagine there is much time for trivial activities in your life, but you never know... maybe there could be time to enjoy some games on our travels.

"And, chapter three can begin whenever you wish."

Natasi Fortan​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

The Supreme Leader examined her dessert thoughtfully, her head cocking from one side to the other. She was internally debating whether she wanted to finish the rest of the dessert, or stop where she was. It was true that she wasn't in danger of becoming overweight by any stretch, but she had had plenty of rich food that evening already, and it was true that being back home on Galidraan meant she was indulging perhaps more than she should.

She set her spoon down and sat back, crossing her arms as she considered her companion.

"I don't know a lot of card games," she confessed. "My mother taught me Bridge, of course, because it was really rather en vogue in the thirties and forties, as one of the few things young men and women could do together after dinner at house parties." Natasi smiled fondly, recalling those times when her mother and grandmother had taught her how to be a Galidraani aristocrat. "Of course, when the chaperones weren't watching, several young officers in the Southern Riding Regiment taught us Pazaak. Mamá would have been appalled if she'd known."

The Supreme Leader cocked her head to one side. "I'm more of a board game girl, myself," she said after some consideration. "Property Tycoon, Murder Mansion, chess. In fact I used to have a beautiful set in the library at Herevan." Instinctively she looked up, in the direction of the estate, as if she could see her way to it now. "My father taught me how to play when my mother died. Something of a distraction. I left it to Jaius Sovv in my will. I wonder if he ever learned to play properly."

Natasi adopted a faraway look in her eyes for a moment, then offered Dyrn a sad smile. "We spent a lot of time together during the war and played a lot of chess. He cheated once. Trying to teach me a lesson, I think, about the consequences of imperial ideology. You know how sanctimonious the old Alliance could be and Jaius -- bless him -- believed his own press more than almost anyone. I do miss him, sometimes. I heard he passed away not long after -- " She lifted a hand and waved it, as if dismissing an insignificant insect. " -- well, nevermind. The point is we played chess. Do you play?"

Her fingers knitted together around her brandy, content to swirl the contents of the glass placidly. "Chapter three, hm? How about -- music? What kind of music do you like? Do you play any instruments? My governess taught me to play piano and sing." She tapped her fingers against her forearm as she thought. "I often wonder where I'd be if they hadn't spent so much time teaching me how to attract a husband. I could be a -- I don't know -- xenobiologist or something."

She smiled over the table earnestly. "Do you like to dance? Or is that more of a Vykk thing?"

Dyrn Grav

 

[Dyrn Grav]

​

With the desserts finished, it was time to discuss some other hobbies. After Dyrn mentioned his thoughts and experiences with some card games, and his toe-dipping into gambling, which he had wanted to make sure was understood as something purely for the alias on duty; when it came to gambling, there was no real interest there. Instead, the Guardsman focused on what Natasi went on to say.

Oh, interesting, Dyrn thought to himself, an eyebrow raised. So, Natasi does have some experience with cards. I may have to learn Bridge.

The Guardsman chuckled at the mention of the Pazaak games with the Southern Riding Regiment, finding the notion of an - arguably innocent - game with officers appalling. It certainly went to show the similarities in upbringing. Throughout the night, the more Dyrn learned, there seemed to have some very extensive expectations thrust upon Lady Fortan's shoulders, and from an early age, also. Of course, there were stark contrasts between the pair when it came to lifestyle and wealth and culture, but at the end of it all, both had been subjected to demanding parents that asked for the utmost in every way.

"Board games? Ah, I see," Dyrn nodded. He had some awareness of board games, though not many of them, which were essentially the non-holo versions of similar ones. Chess, certainly, was known to him. "I know of Chess, yes, though not the others."

Across the way, Dyrn listened as Natasi spoke of Jaius Sovv, sharing about their experience with the game during the war. The loss of a friend made him furrow his brow, as he showed his sympathy, but he remained quiet and continued to listen. Sometimes the best thing to do was offer an ear, and Dyrn had no problem being supportive in that way, should Natasi need it. When asked about Chess, however, he nodded with a smile.

"I do play Chess, yes," He said. "Exercising the mind, as my father said. Attacking, defending, protecting, misdirecting... all of the skills required for a soldier, in one game, as it were. I quite enjoy Chess."

Then it came time for the next question, about music, and Dyrn had to think.

"I have no real favorite genre, if I'm being honest," He said slowly, his eyes shifted to look away as he pondered. "I can listen to anything, really. Depending on mood, it can change, yet I think all kinds of music have something about them that is interesting... sorry, I don't mean to wash out with that answer. I enjoy a range, yes, is my answer."

At the mention of instruments, Dyrn shook his head. "No instruments, no, however not for lack of trying on my mother's effort."

The follow up about attracting a husband, and the casual thought of another potential career that might have been gained, caused the Guardsman to offer a wry smile. He nodded. He could understand to a degree how Natasi's life had been guided toward a particular purpose, it seemed quite common for those in the upper portions of society. Still, when asked about dancing...

"Admittedly, Vykk would be more likely to dance. Though I'm not opposed to dancing, under the right circumstances," Dyrn said with a small shrug. He didn't fancy himself a spontaneous dancer, nor did he randomly do that in his everyday life, but he knew there were times and places for it. "Perhaps..." The Guardsman started, as he reached down to his jacket pocket and put a hand inside. He found the item. With a casualness, Dyrn pulled out a small PDA that he activated and placed on the table. "...now is a good time."

The small device began to fill the dining room with some soft, swinging Gliz music. Not too loud, enough for the pair to hear without others casually overhearing, leaving some privacy as to what might be happening. Dyrn stood from his chair, as he walked around the table and came to a stop beside Natasi, and slowly reached out one hand...

"May I have this dance?"

Natasi Fortan​