Private Rebirthing

[Gerwald Lechner]

S U R V I V E​

LOCATION: Stewjon - Lechner Home
WEARING: xxx
TAG: Palm-Imer

Time healed all wounds, at least that was how the saying went. Gerwald had never found that phrase to be true. There were certain injuries that never faded, leaving nothing but a burden in their wake. The Lord Commander of the Knights Obsidian carried too many of those. Often his mind would wander back to that moment on Stewjon when he first took in the scent of another lupine that was not his family. His entire life he had been raised to believe the four lupines of the Lechner family were the last of a grand species that had once ruled in dominance and terror.​

He had been so confused, angry.​

Katrine had promised him answers, but the price of finding them had been high. It had been one choice, a decision that could have been made differently. Gerwald did not have to abandon his family, an action which put events into motion, ones that had brought him to where he was now. There was no regret, only questions. Would things still have been the same had he not been so rash? One decision had seen his sister imprisoned, his parents killed, lovers spurned, family leave him, and lives under his care lost. Would it have been any different? Gerwald could only believe that it would have still manifested itself in different ways.​

So then why had he spent the past several months rebuilding his childhood home?​

There was nothing fancy about it, and none of it screamed that he was anything special, because on Stewjon he had never been. Gerwald had been a warrior, who trained other warriors. He was a fighter, a predator, and a killer. His family had never been wealthy or important, yet it was from his humble beginnings that Gerwald found his path to becoming the Lord Commander of the Knights Obsidian. It was odd, the further he drifted from the man he had been then, the more he longed to return.​

His home had become a respite from the weariness which came from the path his choices had brought with them. Normally he would return to find the solitude it could offer. There was no technology to be found in the home anywhere, save for the small shuttle which was next to it. This was his escape, but today, the escape was not for him.​

The sun rose, peeking through the window, shining in his eyes. His large frame stretched across the makeshift cot he had put together for himself on the lower floor of the house. At some point in the night, the fire had gone out, an inconvenience Gerwald moved to remedy right away. He did not eat breakfast much these days, but he was unsure about the woman that seemed to still be asleep in the loft above.​

He laid out a simple platter of cooked meats and an assortment of fruits grown on the property. It was nothing fancy as Gerwald did not have the time to properly smoke the meats and case the sausages as he normally would. The pair had a long day of work ahead of them. Palm would need her energy.​

Gerwald did his best to not let the memories of what had happened on Roon fill his mind, but he found them as easy to recall as the night he witnessed his sister murder their parents. The woman had sacrificed much to save his life, leaving her unwilling to use the force, locked in a battle with a darkness she could not hope to defeat on her own. The lupine had made a promise to help her fight it, to find her way back. Until the time came, Gerwald knew other things needed attention.​

This would be the only time Gerwald would find value in the principles Palm had been raised with. The soll’nav had preached a doctrine of strength, that one should not use the force for what they could do themselves. Their first meeting had seen the wolf scoff at such an idea, now as he worked outside at the back of his home, Gerwald smiled. Several cloth and straw training dummies were set in place as the lupine created a makeshift training ring. Gerwald had two primary concerns that required the time they would spend on Stewjon.​

Fighting without touching the force at all was vastly different.​

Gerwald wanted to ensure that Palm had everything she needed to defend herself when he could not.​

She would find him eventually, waiting for her when she was ready to emerge from the house. His attire was simple, nothing like anything she had seen him in. When on Stewjon, when home, Gerwald would dress like those he was raised among. He may have been a lupine, but his father had been Stewjoni. With a mug of hot caf in his hand, Gerwald set his gaze across the forest he had hunted countless and countless times.​

Once again his mind turned to Roon, to Naboo. Would this have been different had he made a different decision so long ago? Gerwald could not allow himself to have any regrets. Even with the ring around his neck that bore the soul of someone he loved, and despite the fact another now faced a drastically different life, the moments shared with them, the ones that made him smile, made it all worth it.​

Gerwald heard her footsteps, caught her scent on the air, before she would ever say a word. He wanted to press his thoughts to her mind, but that would be too much, a reminder that she could not allow him into that space they once shared. Instead he painted a smile on his face as he turned his head to look over his shoulder.​

“Good morning.”​

 

[Palm-Imer]

Location: Stewjon, Lechner Home.
Tagging: Gerwald Lechner

​

Some time ago, sleep had been her solace. Every day she would face her responsibilities and whatever challenge the universe decided to throw her way with no complaints. She would sweat, or bleed, or spend endless hours confined within an office depending on what had been demanded of her, until exhaustion took over. Then, when her job was finished, she would collapse into a deep and dreamless sleep that washed away the tiredness.

Now it had become another battleground.

Her body rested, but her mind did not. The whispers would try to lure her in, and she would try to fend them off. Since cutting herself off from the Force, some nights her efforts were rewarded. Little steps. It all demanded patience and consistency, preparation. Palm knew this was a waiting game. She was biding her time and bracing herself for when the moment came to face the darkness that had taken over. Still under its thumb, exposed and at its mercy, there were times when the geminaie felt as though that day would never come, or she would never be ready for it. In those moments, Gerwald was there.

Not even in her sleep would the memories from Roon leave her, but now they didn't always show the moments that had filled her with desperation and a fear too massive to be beared. Sometimes they evoked the feeling of his hand on her own, of each gentle gesture he had allowed himself to give. They would make her relieve the intensity of another moment of silent compliance when they gave in, to some degree, to the pull that brought them together. When he was on her mind, when they shared that closeness that to her felt as though it was everything and not enough at the same time...Those were the moments when she was hopeful. When she felt safe.

"You are not alone"
​

The words resonated through her mind, his voice being the last thing her dreams conjured before consciousness began to drag her away from the tethers of sleep. Rays of early sunlight poured through a nearby window, warming her skin. Her lungs filled themselves with air as her muscles coiled and tightened - shaking away the stillness from sleep. Finally, her eyes opened.

When Gerwald had asked her to follow him to Stewjon, his homeworld, she had agreed with a smile on her face. Home was something that held so much meaning for the geminaie. Every night spent under a moon that was not geminian filled her with longing, yet she did not have the privilege of giving in to that longing whenever she pleased. If she was to return home, it would only be to answer the call of those above her. Until then, she was expected to remain on foreign lands and serve her purpose as representative and protector.

Luckily, she could live vicariously through the lupine. Perhaps this was not her home, but it was his. The roof she had just awakened beneath had been built by his very own hands. These were the lands he grew up in. Here his story had begun, and he was sharing this place with her. That was of no small significance to her. In his company, within his home, she had found respite.

Not long after, the geminaie would descend from the loft. Palm had grown used to fancy and formal clothing by now, but when the choice was up to her any garment that covered her body would be chosen with comfort and practicality as the only influencing factors. Another trait he shared with the lupine.

A smile curved her lips as she saw the food he had set out for her. Hunger was not yet pestering her, but it was at a young age that she had learned to not skip on an easy meal, specially when the day ahead held the promise of exertion. After all, keeping up with the wolf was no easy feat. Unable to feel his presence, it was harder to convince herself to not go looking for him right then. But she knew he wouldn't be too far, so she ate and after she was done she would move to leave the house.

Palm would stand under the entryway for a moment, her eyes being met with the back of the lupine. There was something deeply soothing about the scene before her. He seemed calm, and in his element. Everything from the land that surrounded them to the clothes he wore gave her the impression that this was the truest version of Gerwald she had seen so far, and she was grateful for sharing in it.

Her feet then carried her closer, knowing that he was already well aware of her presence.

"Mer'arken"

The answer was spoken in her mother-tongue, Nexilis. It was a good morning indeed, the first one she had had in a while. Her eyes then focused on the setup around her. It gave her a good idea of what his plans for the day could be. "I thought you had went out for a run..." The woods were all around them, and she knew of the bond he shared with nature. Then her eyes met his. There was tiredness in them, there always was nowadays, but when she looked at him there was also the will to go on.

"Now, I'm getting the impression that we are training today." The day of their first meeting came to mind. Palm still felt guilty about the consequences of that day, but now she remembered it fondly. She held it close to her heart. "That... didn't end very well the first time around."

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

S U R V I V E​

LOCATION: Stewjon - Lechner Home
WEARING: xxx
TAG: Palm-Imer

Life stood still at the Lechner Estate. The pace of living was much slower than what Gerwald had acclimated to among the hustle and bustle of Confederate space. As the sounds of the morning crashed on his ears, Gerwald let a deep breath into his lungs. The air was crisp, untouched by the pollution of the more populous planets. He found Naboo reminded him of Steejon, some parts of it anyway. Yet, being back home, the wolf found his comparison was not so. There was a different scent on the air, one he seemed to have forgotten. The wolf should have not stayed away from his woods for so long.

There was a guilt which was attached to the place, or what had been there. The building which stood on the grounds now had been rebuilt by the lupine after it had burned the night of his parents’ deaths. It had weighed on his conscience recently. It had only been a few months that the project had been finished, and Palm was the first guest he had invited to the home since its completion.

The feeling was odd. Gerwald had never invited anyone to his home that he had shared a connection with. It had been a private thing, in part because the wolf had been ashamed of his past. He had abandoned his home, his people, and his family, all to chase after a female of his own kind. In the end that path had led to an abandonment of his own. The lupine would never know the true reason she had left, but she had, after he had chosen her over another. There was only one other Gerwald wished to show his home, but she was dead, in a way.

Gerwald chuckled under his breath. No wonder he was loath to tell people how he truly felt. Whatever feelings he did have, the wolf tried to bury. Even with Naedira the man had kept his truth to himself. That did not change the fact he had lost her. Perhaps had he not been so afraid to tell her he would not feel so guilty. He told her on Naalol, but the devourer would remove that memory from her. If she were to live, the woman would not remember him, not in the way he remembered her. He let the ring drop from his chest, holding it between his fingers as he thought was an involuntary habit by now.

It had been the sound of his guest which brought him out of his thoughts. There was a lot on the agenda, but Gerwald still took the time for morning pleasantries. His smile grew when Palm answered in her mother tongue. It was the first he had heard her speak it. The word rolled off her tongue naturally, with an ease that came with something so familiar. It was beautiful, though Gerwald would be hard pressed to ever admit it.

“No, not today, maybe later if I am not so tired,” Gerwald motioned to the woods. “When I grew up here we were only told to run at night, when the rest of the populace was sleeping. Mother feared if anyone knew what we were, we would be hunted. I do not think I could ever run these woods during the day. It would smell wrong.”

The sounds would be all wrong as well. It was funny how there were certain parts of his past Gerwald clung to. There was more he could explain, and perhaps he would, though his life was not one that any would have envied. Gerwald knew discipline. He knew what it meant to train hard, but his life had always been one of secrets. The lupine was able to touch the force, and he was a wild beast, both made him a demon to his people. They were a superstitious lot, many of them, and Gerwald had always hidden his true self from them all.

Even in the robes of the Lord Commander, the wolf did not let them know who he was. Perhaps they would have accepted him, but his secret, the beast, would always be hidden to them. They did not know, and they never needed to.

“Training? That was a training exercise,” Gerwald teased. “Do I look as though I still carry that injury.”

He hobbled over to her, pretending there was still a limp and pain from the break. As he drew near the limp stopped. Gerwald found that everything shifted when he was in her proximity, and the closer he moved, the more power she had over him. It was another thing he would never admit. Palm likely knew of the sway she held over him. His thoughts had betrayed him on Roon, and nearly had on Naboo. What he held as secret, was not truly hidden from her.

It was just unspoken.

“I know you likely do not need to practice on a training dummy, however, and I cannot believe I am admitting this, your soll’nav are correct in one thing. War is something that should be waged in our own skill and mastery of it, before we even seek to touch the force.”

He paused, hoping his words had not touched on the subject of her choice to keep herself away from the force in a negative way. What was, simply was, but Gerwald knew they had to find a way forward. Today they would do so.

“I have pushed you enough by now you know that fighting in your own strength, and fighting with the force is not the same… even in battle we learn to rely on it. Fortunately for you… I spent years training people who know nothing of the force. You’ve also had similar training, but how long has it been since you were truly faced with a situation where the force was not an option.”

His head canted to the dummy.

“As I did the day we met, I want to see what you can do. We start with the dummy.”
​

 

[Palm-Imer]

Location: Stewjon, Lechner Home.
Tagging: Gerwald Lechner

​

Her brow furrowed slightly in attention as he shared the reason that kept him from going into the woods in the early morning. She could understand his mother's worry, it had only taken one trip out of Geminidae for her to learn that not everyone sought out and celebrated what was different from the norm. Quite on the contrary, what was different reaped fear and that fear could easily summon violence. Fear. Palm realized now that she had never truly known the feeling until recently. Roon had changed many things, and fear had summoned so much more than just violence.

For a moment it gripped at her heart, it always did when her thoughts failed to shield themselves away from the darkness. The geminaie could swear that sometimes it just toyed with her. It found amusement in reminding her that it was there, waiting for her. That she was the one being hunted...

No. She would not get dragged into its alluring taunts. She breathed in, trying to untie the knot that had formed in her throat and blinked to wipe away that clouded worry that remained ever-present in the back of her mind. It couldn't touch her now, not while she remained cut off from the Force. She focused again on his words, on his voice. A smile returned to her lips as he teased her, swiftly turning into a bright laugh when the towering man started to limp towards her.

"We can run at night then...Well, so long as there are no broken legs by the time the sun sets." Her voice was tinged with amusement as she teased him right back, lifting her gaze to the sky for a second. When they came back to meet his she realized he was was now close. That alone was enough for that heavy feeling to settle within her chest. It implored her to reach for him, to seek the comfort only he could provide. Gerwald had not asked for the power he held over her, yet she had had no say in the matter either. She tried to quiet the things that his mere presence brought forth within her, to set them aside. Their agreement was silence and company, so even if her heart howled it would remain nothing but an echo in the distance. She would not add more to his burden.

A look of surprise took over her features as he mentioned her Order of origin. The thought of it did drive a stake through her heart but not because of the reason he fretted over. Yes, being cut from the Force was torture. It would never be easy for someone who had grown up feeling as one with everything to suddenly be cast into solitude. But that torture was nothing when compared with the punishment that was guilt. The soll'nav weren't merely the ones who taught her her ways. They were her family, and she had turned her back on them.

She nodded, granting him a smile despite the sad brightness it would hold. "We are only masters of ourselves." It had been a long time since she last recited her code, but it would never be forgotten. "Our initiates are not allowed to use the Force for anything but mediation until they come of age." Since they were not taught to tap into the more complex forms of altering, the soll'nav could allot many more years to honing control and sensing. Only after they had proven themselves, would their Force training begin. "But you are right, I have never been bereft of sensing the Force nor stopped relying on it." In fact, she used to be particularly sensitive to it. That had made its guidance to be even more painfully missed.

Palm then turned her gaze to the dummy and willed herself to walk away from Gerwald until she was standing before the makeshift training prop. For a moment, her eyes moved back to the lupine before returning to the dummy, a thought circling her mind. She was not supposed to fight in front of foreigners unless it was for self defense or with the purpose of killing or capturing them, for their way of fighting was another of the many secrets that the geminians kept from the rest of the galaxy. But Palm had long since decided that she would not keep any from him.

"Kyr'ret, the Art of the Mimic." She doubted Gerwald had heard from it before, although he had seen her employ it briefly during their last and so far only spar. "That is our fighting style. We are taught to read movement, to follow it and to mold into it. It's objective is to copy an opponent's flow until we see a pattern." In other words, Ky'ret was a style of resilience, patience, and variety. A ky'ret artist would never fight the same way twice, for change to them was constant. And when there was no more change, when their opponent reached the repetitiveness that all beings tended to lean towards...

"It is very easy to break a pattern once you've found it."​

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

S U R V I V E​

LOCATION: Stewjon - Lechner Home
WEARING: xxx
TAG: Palm-Imer

"We can run at night then...Well, so long as there are no broken legs by the time the sun sets."​

Gerwald laughed as he shook his head. He could still hear the snap, feel it even, as he thought about their first spar. The lupine had been intent on seeing if Palm would actually cross an obstacle to keep herself from coming to severe harm that he pushed her to it. His leg may have broken, but it was his own fault. Palm would never get him to admit otherwise. Naturally she had felt bad about it, but he knew the risk when he pushed her to it.​

“No one will be getting any broken limbs today,” he promised as the distance between them closed.​

His blue gaze could see what her golden eyes betrayed. Perhaps she could hide it from everyone else, but Gerwald knew what she was feeling every time he looked into them. He wanted to tell her, part of him did at any rate, that he felt the same. How could he not? The lupine had learned long ago that it was possible to feel deeply for many people. It was never a question about what he felt, but whether he would act on those feelings.​

It pained him to remain silent, as much as he knew it pained her to allow it. Neither of them had asked for any of this, and it still happened all the same. The wolf had made so many promises to so many, all of them seemingly impossible tasks. At least the one he had made to Palm, that he would not allow her to be alone in the fight against the darkness that threatened to consume her, was one he could keep. Knowing that relieved some of the pain and guilt he felt, but not all of it.​

The way she looked at him, in moments as she was now, betrayed the longing she did not act on. Even as that look became one of surprise, the lupine knew what was in her heart. Did his own betray that as she walked past him he wanted nothing more than to steal a small touch of her hand, anything to allow him to feel the closeness that was missing because she refused to use the force? Perhaps the promise he had made her was nothing more than cruel torture for them both. They would be forced to live with their silent understanding, but to Gerwald it was preferable than separation. Regardless of what they felt, Palm was a good friend at the minimum, and Gerwald had too few of those to let one slip away.​

Her response at the mention of her order was part of another code, one she had been raised to believe and keep. Gerwald smiled at the words, and repeated them.​

“We are only masters of ourselves… I like it.” ​

Perhaps he was warming up to some of their ideals, though Gerwald believed in something much more tangible and practical, balance. As he thought about it, in the moment, the idea that both worked together crossed his mind. Balance could not be achieved without mastering one's own self. A conversation he had had with his former master was enough to convince Gerwald of the truth. They were indeed necessary. As Gerwald had said before, what she had been taught did not take her far enough, but it was moot now.​

She set herself to face the dummy, taking up a stance that Gerwald knew but he did not. He was quiet as she explained it, again her mother tongue rolled off her lips. Another involuntary smile formed at the sound of it. Perhaps this was better. The force had pushed them together quickly, pulled down barriers that time would have eventually torn down if given the chance. Gerwald may have known Palm, but yet, he did not. He was grateful for the slower pace. How fitting it was on a planet that was known for it.​

“Djem So. Shien. It is the fifth form of lightsaber combat. It is a modified version of the Soresu. The principles are similar. You use your opponent's attacks against them. It makes for a slower fight perhaps, and without endurance one could be overwhelmed by someone practicing a more aggressive form such as Ataru. However, the similarities are worth noting. Perhaps we will both learn something here today.”​

Gerwald was fully aware that it was likely something she should not let him see, yet where he was involved, Palm had already crossed every line that she should not, save one.​

He grinned.​

“You're just going to have to do it without the force. As will I. Today if you are training blind then so will I. There were two secrets I kept from the people of this world. I know what it means to fight and train without the force. You could have no better teacher.”​

Even though he was so much more.​

 

[Palm-Imer]

Location: Stewjon, Lechner Home.
Tagging: Gerwald Lechner

​

Stewjon was offering them something that they had never shared together. Simplicity.

The Force could not allow them that deep connection now that Palm had renounced it to protect herself, and while the absence of that closeness weighted heavily on her heart, Stewjon had shown her it did not come without its little benefits. Gerwald had seen and felt things that belonged to the most personal and private spaces of her being, but they had been so caught up in those depths that they had never discovered what laid at the surface.

The simpler things, the details. The actual results of those personal and private spaces, which could hold just as much meaning.

As he made the comparison between Ky'ret and the variants of Form V, she smiled. Some years ago she had followed a similar reasoning, and so her training had seen her adopt those forms as her primary style. It simply fit her, the fluidity and the dynamic nature of a form that was balanced and demanded an understanding of her opponent. Then the realization came to her that they had never seen the other wield the weapons that force users were drawn to and renowned for. Yes, his lightsaber had been drawn and used on Roon - but it's role in that terrible battle had been secondary. The Force had been the weapon of choice that day.

A smile pulled at her lips as he offered encouragement, although it was what followed those words that truly stroke a cord within her. On the one hand, he had decided to share in her struggle for the day. He would not be using the Force either, and that surprised the geminaie. Gerwald drew on the Force with an instinctual ease, she could have never guessed that he was, in fact, quite used to not tapping into it. Her mind began to wrap around a certain thought.

Before this trip she had not known he had been a warrior and a teacher in a context that was very different to what she had seen in the headquarters of the Knights Obsidian, nor that in his homeworld he led a life that was both a needed lie about who he truly was while at the same time bringing out a version of him that seemed to fit him more comfortably. He was also a skilled builder, and an early riser. All this things helped give detail to the image she already had of him, and it made it all the more special.

Once again did gold meet ice, the affection he often saw reflected in them was still there but now shared its space with a profound contemplativeness. The words left her mouth before she had any time to filter them, to decide if they were the right thing to say. "I feel like I understand you in ways I sometimes can't understand my own self and yet there is so much I don't know about you..." There was honesty in her voice, and admiration. That pull made itself known again, and she let it be. It stayed there, unadressed and uncomfortable, unrealized. It threatened to become too strong, to make her step away from the dummy and back into the lupine's space. It then that she stopped it, drawing her eyes away, remembering the matter at hand.

She willfully brought another small smile onto her features, which while not natural did not try to be deceitful. It was simply an attempt to move on, to not torture either of them by letting the heavy feelings that waded around them become suffocating. "Anything you will teach, I would gladly learn." He looked up to him, with more confidence than ever. She trusted his guidance entirely.

Palm finally turned her attention to the dummy and took a moment to center herself as she fell into an opening stance. The absence of the Force felt more tangible now, for normally she would have instinctually pulled on it to bring herself into a focus that was simply not available to the unattuned mind. Without letting that discourage her, she waited until her mind had fallen into that familiar trance, that state of sharpened calmness. Then she began to move, the dummy before her becoming an imaginary enemy with imaginary movement that she could see, block and counter in her mind. Like fighting a shadow, but with something for her hands and feet to connect their hits to.

There was only one reason why Palm could enjoy sparring against a non-sentient, non-programmed thing. The only pattern she could follow was her own. As she began to set it, that shadow in her mind's eye would begin to morph into a different shape. The speed was picked up, the moves growing more precise until there was one devastating hit and then everything changed all of a sudden, and the cycle would begin once again. Soon it was no longer like fighting a shadow, but like fighting herself, and it was mesmerizing.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

S U R V I V E​

LOCATION: Stewjon - Lechner Home
WEARING: xxx
TAG: Palm-Imer

Gerwald could not find a better way than to say what he was thinking than the way Palm had expressed her own thoughts. He knew more of the deepest places of her inner self better than knew his own, and yet, he was learning things about her that made him think he did not know her at all. It had been a mystery to think how they had known each other so quickly, had found feelings that neither had asked for, and yet, they had experienced them. The wolf stopped pretending that he understood the intricacies of the force. There was always something new to learn, a lifetime of exploration. It seemed the same was true about Palm, perhaps she would always be a mystery.

“Do we really though... know each other?”

The question did not seem to come out right as Gerwald asked it. For some reason he felt the need to quickly recover. The lupine was anything but silver tongued. He was better with a sword than he was with speeches, or knowing what to say.

“I mean… we have shared things deeper than most ever will because of the force. I know… your mind… your heart…”

He paused. It was the first time he had given voice to what they both silently accepted as truth. It did not seem as heavy as Gerwald thought it would. There was weight to what those words implied, but it was easy to say, easy to admit. She would see the surprise in his eyes, and perhaps she would feel it to. What power would that confession have? Would she fault him for saying he knew how she felt without giving voice to his own thoughts and feelings.

“Twice today you used words from your own tongue. You have never uttered a word that was not galactic basic since we met.”

Gerwald smiled as he found the admiration and curiosity in her eyes. Nothing was forced, even if her smile was intentional. There was a simplicity they were learning to enjoy after so much of what remained was complex. She turned back to the dummy, affirming she would learn whatever he had to teach.

Turning away from him, that had been the only action the geminaie forced herself to do. Gerwald set his eyes on her as she took her stance once more. Her first move, followed by another, flowed into a motion, a dance, that changed yet did not. It was admirable to see. While their spar had proven she was a capable fighter, watching as she was free to move as she wished was a thing of beauty.

He was quiet. Silent steps took him to another dummy next to hers. His form was much different. Even though Gerwald was more agile than his size would betray, his movements were not filled with the grace Palm-Imer displayed. There was a brutish way about Gerwald’s strikes. It would be clear to anyone that watched the wolf one strike would be enough to knock out the average combatant. It was the way of his people, hard brawling, the first to land a good punch usually won. Strength was valued, but Gerwald knew there was more to combat the brute force.

“I am not sure I will be the teacher today,” Gerwald said when he finally stopped.

He motioned for Palm to join him.

“You seemed at peace. Everything was natural, graceful, fluid. I have only seen one other move with as much finesse as you, and she is an Echani.”

What Gerwald did not admit was that Exarch Talon had kicked his butt, handily. He was not the duelist she was, nor did he think he would ever be. That did not stop him from perfecting his skills however.

“I have already fought you once. I do not need a demonstration on your skills there. What concerns me the most is your bladework. As you know we rely on the force to use our lightsabers.”

The Stewjoni walked to where two wooden dueling swords rest against the back of the house. They were shaped like a practice lightsaber. It would not be the most accurate of lessons as the bokkens had a weight a lightsaber never would. Still, they had never seen each other fight in this way, and Gerwald wanted to ensure Palm would not injure herself with a lightsaber if the need arose to use one between now and when her darkness was defeated.

He handed a weapon to Palm.

“I am going to assume you’re Djem So and Shien practitioner? Show me.”

When she took the weapon from his hand, Gerwald took the opening stance of the Djem So variant of the fifth form. Would she have expected him to be a master of it as well? The answer to that question would be his soon enough.
​

 

[Palm-Imer]

Location: Stewjon, Lechner Home.
Tagging: Gerwald Lechner

​

Palm had learned that the secret to choosing the right words was to understand that words would always, because of their very nature, be lacking and insufficient. The pieces of a puzzle that just would not fit together in the way they were meant to. That even when selected with care, they would never be quite right, and would always hide a measure of flaw. Perhaps that was the single greatest challenge that creation had devised for them: to give them mute souls and talking tongues.

The lupine was a man of action and not diplomacy, but Palm seemed to get his meaning with little effort. That question, had it been a different person giving it voice, could have led the geminaie to ask for an explanation, it would have escaped her understanding. But it didn't, because it was him. And so the statement that followed was not one she had expected, nor was it one she was ready to hear.

How easy it was to deceive oneself for the sake of comfort. Palm had never said the words that were supposed to reflect what she felt, but she had done something a thousand times more final than that. She had shown him. After, with weary hearts and new chains around them, they had set it aside because it was the only thing that was left to do. Put it inside a cage and then continued on, dragging it behind them and ignoring it because that challenge was worth it if it allowed them to remain together. To show that their loyalty and care for each other had come first and went beyond that which was unspoken.

They weren't ready for sincerity...

...yet they could not lie.

The admission he had just made broke this pact, it called a brief halt to the war between what they were doing and the things they did not know if they should do. Palm already knew that he was well aware of the extent of her feelings and her being as a whole, but hearing him declare it was something else entirely. First, it brought relief. It was a confirmation that her heart had longed to hear even if it would have never demanded to. Gerwald had accepted it too, that would be enough to bring her content.

"We might not..." It was the truth. A strange one, and difficult to wrap her mind around given how close she felt to the lupine, but strange did not make it any less right. "But I would like to."

Then words were replaced by the sounds of nature, and those of their breathing and their movement. As Gerwald began his own practice, Palm could not see him for trying to would have meant breaking her own concentration. She could hear him though, and judging only by the noise produced by his hits landing on the dummy, she could pity anyone who had ever been on the receiving end of the onslaught.

Eventually they both stopped, by then her breathing had become slightly heavier and her heart beat at a faster rhythm. Her body remaining prepared for more action that was sure to come soon. When Gerwald spoke again, her eyes followed him, hands resting on her hips as her positioning returned to a neutral one. A warm smile lit up her expression. "They are the ones my people drew their inspiration from," The Geminaie had a lot to thank the Echani for when it came to their views on combat, physicality and meditation. There was peace, because it was speaking a language that needed no words.


Gerwald then gestured for her to come closer.

As soon as he walked towards the training weapons, she knew what came next. Her hand curled around the handle of the bokken he had extended to her, instinctively twirling it and moving it around to get a feel for the wooden sword. "The last time I held one of these I couldn't have been older than ten..." Palm changed the more conventional weapon for her preferred tonfas and guard-shotos at a very young age. Her masters had discovered she had the heart and skillset of a duelist, and that when it came to battle her comfort zone was found in the most unlikely of places. As close and personal to her opponent as she could get. They had nurtured those traits.

"You assume correctly." Form V was the base of her combat style when the time came to draw her sabers, but not on its own. Then he fell into the opening stance of Djem-so, and the gleam of surprised flashed in her eyes. Well, this would be interesting. Giving him a knowing look and amused smile, she raised the bokken to move into her own opening stance that, of course, mirrored his in many ways. "I should have known..." She took a moment before beginning, bracing herself to deal with two little setbacks she would potentially have to face.

Then she moved forward, her own speed formidable even though the Force was not there to push it further. In the nature of the style they both seemed to favor, the bokken would come down at him in a slashing strike. Simple, efficient. This was a training spar, and it was wise to test the waters before trying anything more risky.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

S U R V I V E​

LOCATION: Stewjon - Lechner Home
WEARING: xxx
TAG: Palm-Imer

Gerwald nodded. Force or not, it seemed the two shared the same truth even now. They did not truly know each other in the ways most did. How true was that of others that had been in his life? How well did Gerwald truly know those he claimed to be close to? It was a question that would haunt him for a time, only dulled by the smile and sentiment which Palm wore on her face.

Perhaps they did not know each other, but she wanted to.

“I would like the same thing,” his words followed after hers naturally.

Slow was better. Though he could see the weight which lifted from Palm at his confession. It was relieving in its own way for the wolf. It was spoken, and what was a silent understanding had been put to words, at least on her part. Gerwald wished to answer the raging curiosity which likely coursed in her veins, would he give voice to his own? Yet, for now, the Lupine could not, in fact, he had decided he would not, not until he could return the same act in kind as Palm shared with him.

When their fight with straw and canvas ended, the two faced each other. Gerwald chuckled at her surprise. Her reaction had been perfect. Yes, she should have guessed based on how knowledgeable he had been about the form itself. What was more interesting was the fact he did not often face opponents who used the same form. It relied on counters, which meant one of them would have to be the aggressor.

A smirk tugged at his lips when the geminaie took a slightly altered version on the opening stance.

“Figures,” he said through a small laugh. “You do everything your own unique way.”

That was why the Soll’nav was wrong for Palm. She was her own person, and that much had been clear to him the moment she let him in to see into the hidden places of who she was. Gerwald’s mission, now, was to not only prove she could push beyond the limitations the Soll’nav philosophy had forced upon her, but that it was entirely wrong for who she was.

Not only did Gerwald intend on helping Palm reconnect to the force, but he would help her discover the things about herself she did not know.

She would be the first to attack, a simple overhand strike would test his skill. His height compared to hers required that he dodge the attack as opposed to block it entirely. Stepping to the side, Gerwald playfully opted to attempt a small tap on her behind as he created enough distance between them to step behind her.

“Open yourself up, and don’t be afraid to push it! I’m not going to push back this time, not like before.”
​

 

[Palm-Imer]

Location: Stewjon, Lechner Home.
Tagging: Gerwald Lechner

​

"You do everything your own unique way."

Throughout her life Palm had often had a hard time accepting the differences that would set her apart from others. An Ambassador, a Heir, and a soll'nav, the geminaie had not had much of a proper childhood and instead went through three distinct, highly controlled, and demanding upbringings meant to mold her into specific role. In all of them she had been a black sheep, but only in the latter had she been accepted. Perhaps the ambassador's academy was the place where she would rest her head every night, but the Navah'Xae had been her home.

"You have always yearned for something that isn't here, majhen."​

The voice of her Master suddenly took over her thoughts. It was unexpected, and threatened to bring her to a sudden halt. She had wanted to reach out to him too in her darkest hour, to pull the memories of his wise teachings for comfort. But after what she had done on Roon, there would be no convincing herself to do it. Not after her betrayal. Gerwald's logic, although unknown to her, was spot on save for one thing.

It had not been the soll'nav the ones who gave her chains she could not shed.

The lupine stepped to the side, away from her bokken, and her mind had to pull itself from the sudden surprise of what seemed to be an intrusive thought. Her hand moved backwards, with the intention of getting her wooden sword to intercept his own now that she had left herself open for a stab or slash to the back, but this would not come to pass. Not only because she had been distracted by her own mind and moved slowly, but because it was not any kind of proper attack that Gerwald had chosen to use against her. It was simply a tap from the bokken. A tap to her backside.

The geminaie straightened her back, lowering the bokken and turning to place her eyes on him as a serious look washed over her expression. It was only for a moment that she could try to let him believe she had been offended in any way before that feigned seriousness vanished. Her head tilted slightly to the side, a smile growing on her lips and an eyebrow raising in amused disbelief at the action. The golden in her eyes was shining brightly.

"Very funny, Ger." She truly wished she could duel wield right now, her off-hand was missing the weight of a weapon in it and, even though it wasn't, she felt as though her balance was off because of it. Such were the effects of habit. However, she would take him up on his offer and try to open up. "Let's have some fun."

Palm then pressed the attack once again. The opening overhand strike was repeated, although this time the angle had been adjusted to hopefully convince the lupine that raising his own weapon for a block was the appropriate response. If her ploy was successful, then Palm would do something that certainly qualified as pushing it now that the Force was not there to guide her. It could very well go wrong.

Before the wooden blades could clash, she purposefully lost her grip on the handle and let the bokken fall. Then she ducked and pivoted, aided by her own momentum and making use of her speed and balance. Her off-hand would reach out to grab the bokken in a reversed grip before it could hit the ground as she finished her turn, leaving her standing close behind the lupine facing in the same direction he was. Changing the bokken from one hand to the other in such a fashion, while not a formal Jar'Kai move by any means, did hint at her ability to double-wield.

Bright smile still on her lips, she'd try a hit aimed at his side and then proceed to concentrate on trying to keep the offense on her side. Palm was a better fighter when she was closest, and neither Gerwald's size nor the longer reach of her current weapon favored that preference.

"I'll have to get creative, this is not how I usually fight."

She was enjoying herself. Giving in into the thrill of the spar, feeling the rush created by her own movement and following his own. Much like he had pointed out before, combat brought her a deep sense of peacefulness. But some worry would remain in the back of her mind, making itself known just as an almost insignificant shadow in her otherwise focused eyes.

The unexpected thought of her old Master and the words he had shared with her the last time she saw him would not leave her. Why had she remembered them now?

Spoiler

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

S U R V I V E​

LOCATION: Stewjon - Lechner Home
WEARING: xxx
TAG: Palm-Imer

The Force worked in ways that no one could truly understand, or master. Gerwald certainly had only scratched the surface of what it was capable of. He had witnessed things that would make many drop their jaws in disbelief, and yet, there was still more he had not known. What Palm had experienced could have been one of those things. While Gerwald had not known what caused her to almost lose her footing and stumble, the lupine knew there was something which had transpired. In his mind, it was likely related to something the force was doing, perhaps attempting to break through.

He would not know in the moment, nor would he ask now. Palm seemed to regain her composure, and as such, the moment had passed for now. The wolf tried to fight back a laugh when the geminaie shot him an amused look, pretending to be offended. He failed. It felt good to simply enjoy himself with a partner that he knew would take the training seriously, but also allow time for a little play. Perhaps he was flirting in his own way as well, but Gerwald would never admit it, and without the force Palm would never know, not unless she had already mastered the subtleties of his body language.

“If you’re going to play, then so will I,” came his retort before Palm swung around to face him once more.

This had not been the first time a spar had been play, though he was certain that Palm would not actually kill him. Wooden swords were not the same as daggers being thrust toward him, every strike with the potential to take his life had he not moved out of the way. It should have been the first of many warning signs, but Gerwald had been younger, free from the lies and the shelter of his mother. He had been easily swayed, and would not repeat that mistake again.

It was unfair to the geminaie that part of his hesitancy were his past experiences with moving into something faster than his understanding of a person would allow. She had already proven herself to be neither of the two that he had spurned or been abandoned by. Yet, those experiences still held much power. They had kept him from telling Naedira how he had felt as well. It was a hurdle of his own making, something he still allowed to have power over him. That one thought brought back to mind something Naedira had once said.

“Through victory my chains are broken.”​

That particular stanza of the Sith code resonated with Gerwald in that moment as he recognized he was a captive animal in his own regard. How could he help Palm-Imer when he still had his own chains and demons to be free of. Yet, he found that he needed to. It was not just a promise, but a drive and compulsion. She needed to be free of her fight, the prison she had made for herself, so her journey could continue.

The angle of her attack changed. This time Gerwald had no choice, even if she would adjust as she was known to do from their first fight. If there was a chance she intended on following through with the attack, he had to raise his own wooden sword to meet hers. A smile pulled at his features when she did not commit to the attack.

His gaze kept a close watch on her as she passed under his defenses and released her weapon to the off hand. It was a quick move, a display that she was naturally faster than Gerwald. It was to be expected. As was the attempt she made at his rib cage. The warrior was amused to realize her skill with Jar’kai as well, but she was not the only skilled with the off hand. Should he need to, he could switch.

Instead Gerwald turned toward the attack. The blade of his bokken pointing down toward the ground. Their blades would finally meet with the harsh cracking sound of two solid pieces of wood echoing in the sky above them. It was a familiar sound to Gerwald, and the skies of Stewjon.

Once her weapon was knocked out of the way, Gerwald stepped closer, swinging his weapon upward as if he would cut the soll’nav in half. He was prepared to stop if she did not react in time to his counter, but he had no doubt she would find it in her to escape or press a counter attack of her own.

"How is it that you usually fight? Your sabers are fashioned after a tonfa if I recall? You had them with you the day we met."
​

 

[Palm-Imer]

Location: Stewjon, Lechner Home.
Tagging: Gerwald Lechner

​

The playful banter and the taunts went hand in hand with movements that, despite the light-heartedness of their conversation, were being taken seriously. Each counter, block, and attack was the result of premeditation and, when they had their way, conducive to landing a light smack on the other. The fact that they could maintain that balance between humor and commitment to the true purpose of this training session was commendable, but most importantly, it made her feel at ease in a way she had not experienced since waking up after the incident on Roon.

Palm would tell herself that it was the result of partaking in an activity that took her back to better times, but she knew there was more to it. The Force was no longer with her at the moment, but Gerwald was. They could not feel each others' presence or reach out into their thoughts, yet the geminaie found that the tethers that drew her to him had not gone anywhere. This was a different type of connection. It was physical, and it was tangible, and Palm found that it was strong enough to center her just the same. He steadied her.

"Bring it on, Ger" The answer to his humorous warning came from an equally amused expression. This little challenge did nothing but contribute to their previous agreement of opening up, it encouraged the geminaie to push herself harder. And judging by the pace that was beginning to be set, she was sure exhaustion was becoming a promise that would welcome them both with open arms by the time the day ended. Might as well make it worth their while before their energy stopped being on their side and instead turned against them.

Ever since Naboo, being physically close to him had felt overpowering. The weight and pull of the things they didn't say, of their guilts and their doubts, had made it almost unbearable at times. It had always resulted in the war between wanting to give in, to seal that closeness, and fearing the burn that was promised if they did, that pushed them to pull away. It was tense, to the point of feeling like everything would shatter to pieces if they made so much as one little misstep. But today that tension had taken on a kinder shape.

It did not feel dangerous or daunting, at least not for now. The spar had taken away the weight of making a decision, it had made this closeness natural and comfortable.

The bokkens clashed, and her eyes immediately set themselves to the task of reading him for movement, to find what his counter would be. "Yes, I chose the guard-shotos when I was a child." She answered, and as he brought his sword up, she took a step back to create the needed space for her next maneuver. Her sword came down to meet his again in a block that was only meant to be long enough to allow her to move back into his space. "Jar'kai and Djem So are my base and preferred forms, Soresu and Ataru I'd say are my second." Of course, as any proper proficient user of a lightsaber, Palm was introduced to all of the combat forms - but these were the ones that had called out to her the most.

Now that she was safe from his upward strike, the geminaie would side step and begin another turn again - only this time it would not be with the intention of getting out of his way but quite on the contrary, to get close and hopefully disarm him. While her off-hand kept his bokken in the block for as long as she could, her free hand would reach out towards his wrist as she moved, making sure to keep her grip on it light enough to not cause him injury once it reached its mark.

Her back was pressed flush against his chest as she finished turning, his arm locked by her grip to keep his bokken away from her. The arm holding her own sword would abandon the now unnecessary block and follow the momentum of her body towards them, bent elbow aimed for the ribcage that was now right behind her own. It had been a smart move, or so she had believed when it had formed in her mind. Locking his main arm and using her own body as an obstacle to keep him from moving freely.

What she did not prepare for when deciding on it was the fire that would light up deep within her chest as soon as she found herself that close to him. Closer than she had ever been before.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

S U R V I V E​

LOCATION: Stewjon - Lechner Home
WEARING: xxx
TAG: Palm-Imer

The lupine shook his head at the challenge, “Bring it on, Ger.” Banter was something Gerwald had long set aside for the sake of duty and professionalism. There were those who had accused the wolf of being more like a stoic machine than a living being. More often than not those assessments were accurate in regards to how he had been living life. Even on the occasions where his friend Lunara Azure tried getting him to unwind or join in on harmless banter, Gerwald remained his obtuse self.

This was different. It was almost as if sparring with Palm in this way pulled the lupine back to simpler times. For all the hiding and deceitful living he had been subjected to on Stewjon, life had been easier in many ways. His path had always been clear. He would have never been anything more than a warrior, perhaps leading them one day, but it would have never been complicated. Demons, creatures of the dark, Sithspawn, none of these things would have been the foes he would have faced. His days would have been spent as he did now, a wooden weapon in hand facing another in practice.

She listed every form that she preferred, and it only made Gerwald laugh. He would not betray it now, but they were also his preferred forms. The wolf would never admit to Ataru, however he would demonstrate his knowledge of it if the time came for it. No one expected a man of his size and stature to be well versed in the form, let alone capable of the agility needed to use it. Today would not be a day to use it however. The form required too much of the force to sustain it.

“You sound more and more like you could have been one of my pupils… or that we would have been trained together,” he observed, giving away enough clues for Palm to connect the dots on his style. “Never got into small weapons though, for reasons that may seem obvious.

Simply put, Gerwald was not built for close quarters combat, not unless that opponent was equal to, or larger than, him. Palm-Imer certainly was not. There was a nine inch height difference between them, and over 100 pounds separating them in regards to weight. It would give the woman an advantage if she played to her speed, but if she made a misstep and allowed the warrior to catch her, Gerwald would be the one with the advantage.

The banter continued, allowing the wolf to forget about the troubles which had brought them here. Even the tension which seemed to rest between the two was lost as they continued their bout. It was a language they both understood, a way they could be close without the guilt or the tension that seemed to come with it. He had never wanted the woman to feel guilty for what she felt, but even as she opened herself to him in what she thought were her final moments, Gerwald had sensed it, guilt that her feelings would be another burden for him. This fight was peaceful in that regard.

That world quickly shattered the moment Gerwald felt her back against his chest. It would not have taken much to drop his weapon entirely, allowing her to disarm him and wrap his arms around her. He could feel the desire rising within him to be rid of the spar and to allow himself to feel the closeness her touch had brought. Perhaps this had been a dangerous idea, but the warrior was determined to see the woman strong enough to fight a hidden enemy.

He pushed past the fire which burned in him, taking her elbow to the ribcage. It was a calculated risk, but was necessary for what he was about to do. The moment she released the unneeded block, Gerwald did indeed drop his weapon, but with it came the freedom to wrap his arm around her waist. His other arm, though he had to fight for the freedom to move it, would wrap around her chest as the larger man used his height and strength to his advantage.

Then came the fire once more.

“Palm.”

His voice was soft, tender in its own way, before setting her back down onto her feet. He could have held her there longer, but the wolf let go.

“Do not disarm a larger opponent. If they are an enemy, incapacitate them, kill them if necessary.”

Every word dripped with the tension Gerwald could feel. If Palm did not know his feelings, despite his refusal to speak them, then she was blind. Gerwald knew she was not.
​

 

[Palm-Imer]

Location: Stewjon, Lechner Home.
Tagging: Gerwald Lechner

​

His comment brought a smile to her face. Palm had already perceived many things that made them alike. Their devotion to duty and to their word, their loyalty, their sacrifice. Now she could see these extended beyond the realm of their deepest drives and nature. These similarities were the only attempt at an answer she had managed to produce during those moments when she had asked herself the questions that would likely remain unsolved forever. Why him? Why so fast?

Yet nobody held the authority to demand answers from the heart. It would never respond unless it was ready to, and so the geminaie could only turn to faint speculations and rushed thoughts that could only grant broken explanations. In the end, the conclusion was always the same.

Feelings could never be questioned, only endured.

She had not expected the proof of this silent sentence to arrive so soon. All of a sudden, she became aware of the distance she had removed between them. A distance that had been so carefully kept ever since Roon. There had been the hope that perhaps if she stayed away long enough this feeling would fade with time, but there would be no fooling herself. Not anymore.

That feeling alone brought everything into stillness, it drowned any other emotion or thought until there was only him and the longing. She should have moved, but every limb was frozen in place as her mind turned to fight a different battle, the one to stop her from doing something she could regret. Her elbow collided against his side. She should have moved. There was no counter as one arm was wound around her waist, barely any resistance when the one she was supposed to keep away moved to wrap around her chest, caging her in. How could she have ever fought this?

Then she heard his voice, her name, and her heart simply felt too full, too heavy. She had never wanted anything as much as she wanted to give in right now. To lean back into him and let that fire burn it all away until only they remained. But she couldn't. For the first time the pain these emotion demanded as payment for being silenced became almost as unbearable as the guilt they caused, and it took every last drop of will to let the latter win.

He let go of her, and biting down on whatever shreds of discipline and control she still had, her hand raised to keep the arm around her chest in place and him close, although she dared not close the space between their bodies as she had done before. The hand that held her own bokken came up, her voice low and on the brink of trembling when she managed to speak, "If these had been my weapons," She let go of the handle of the wooden sword to instead grab it from its middle and creating a weapon with a reach more akin to her own guard-shotos, once again held a reversed grip proper of the Shien variant, "...and you had been my enemy..."

She moved her arm in the same motion that had brought her elbow to his side, but slowly, with no intention of landing another blow. This time, the tip of the bokken reached him first, the blade of her saber would have reached him first. Her head turned and tilted upwards, and the molten gold of her eyes would meet icy blue of his, still holding the searing embers of the fire.

"...I would have."​

She held his gaze for a second longer, then her eyes fell to the ground. Her hand barely tightened its grip on his arm, before letting it fall too, allowing herself to step away now that her move had been revealed. It was funny how stepping away from this war that raged within them was a million times harder than walking into a real battlefield.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

S U R V I V E​

LOCATION: Stewjon - Lechner Home
WEARING: xxx
TAG: Palm-Imer

He should not have put his arms around her. While he had wanted to make a point about how vulnerable Palm had made herself, Gerwald knew it had been a mistake the minute he closed them around her form. The wolf wanted to tell himself this was just training, and that she was just another pupil. While the first may have been correct, the later was not. Palm was not just another student. She was not even officially one of his students. While he was a mentor of sorts, it had never been official.

The genimaie was close, too close, and Gerwald feared what may be as a result of that. He had wrestled too long with himself before trying to break the ring which kept Naedira bound in a way the Devourer could feed off of her. His mind could still recall the sensation of hot tears falling from his eyes as the three words he had kept from her for so long had finally been uttered. Only when he though it would truly be her end did Gerwald find the courage to tell the Auburn haired beauty how he had felt. She had tried to stop him, and when the ring had not been destroyed Gerwald found himself living with the decision he had made.

A similar war raged within him now. Would they be able to move past the tension if nothing was said? Was this just his burden to bear? The wolf was tired of deferring to what duty demanded. Something deep inside him would always push him towards what was right, but more and more Gerwald also found that voice which wanted him to be selfish was growing louder and louder. It would have been easy. One action, a few simple words, was all them kept them from what they felt and what they wanted.

It would have been easy.

Her hand stopped him from letting go entirely. He could have pulled her in closer. Whatever it was she meant to do, Palm needed to do it, because Gerwald was losing the battle of self control. It was not a firm grip that held his arm where it was. Rather the strength, the power, which the woman exerted over the lupine was his own. She had used what he allowed against him, whether she knew it or not, Palm would never need to be firm.

His eyes watched as she adjusted the weapon, making it shorter, something akin to what she was used to. Pointing blade toward his ribcage, letting it rest where she had just stabbed him, Gerwald nodded. Their eyes met, hers a fiery furnace. Her amber gaze threatened to melt the ice of his own, though as her words reached his ears, the wolf steeled himself with a deep breath.

Palm let the weapon drop, though her grip on his arm remained. She held it for as long as she held Gerwald’s gaze before finally allowing it to drop. This time it was Gerwald who refused to let go.

His arm pulled her back, even as she stepped away. This time as he did so the back of his hand raised until it rest against her face. “Had you been an enemy…” A gentle motion would force her head to turn toward him.

“You would not have had the time.”​

This time when Gerwald let the geminaie go, he walked away. Reaching to the bokken she had dropped, the lupine cracked it over his knee. With a demonstration of how strong he truly was, Gerwald broke the weapon in half. His gaze met hers as the two halves were presented to her.

“Show me…”
​

 

[Palm-Imer]

Location: Stewjon, Lechner Home.
Tagging: Gerwald Lechner

​

He pulled her back to him, and she could not help but think that this was becoming a sweet torture. This was were she wanted to be. It was not the overwhelming pull, nor the suffocating heaviness in the air, that truly drew her in. That inner chaos was only the result of her own denial, the anticipation of something she yearned for but would not allow trying desperately to stop being repressed. What truly scared her, what made it so hard to pull away, was the calmness. For in those little moment when they did give in, even if just for an instant, everything fell into place. There was peace...and there was love.

When his hand reached up and she felt it caress her cheek, Palm felt as though she could forget every single reason she had to not act on her feelings and throw them aside in that very second. But she wouldn't do that. Neither of them were willing to, for once, be selfish. A part of her knew he felt it too, and she quited that voice immediately. She would never dare speak for him, not even within the confines of her own secluded mind. She reminded herself of this as she followed his lead, turning to face him once more as he pulled away again.

Palm had assumed, for obvious reasons, that he had a physical strength she couldn't hope to match naturally even if she belonged to a species whose strength well surpassed that of a normal human, but she had never seen him put it to action. The bokken cracked as though it was nothing more than a toothpick under the pressure he had subjected it to. The geminaie could only offer an acknowledging nod, his point being accepted. If this spar had been real, perhaps the Force would have made up for her disadvantage. But the Force was not with her right now, and that was precisely the point of this training session.

It was when he offered the two halves of the bokken that the ghost of a smile reached her lips again. She met his eyes as she accepted them, "Xán'ar" The thank you was spoken in her mother tongue, accompanied by a small bow of her head.

As soon as she stepped back again, her hands instinctively went about the task of feeling out the new weapons. The weight of them was surprisingly even, Gerwald had managed to crack the bokken almost perfectly, and to Palm it felt as though the very act of standing was made easier now that both her hands were occupied with a weapon. Her shoulders were less tense, and soon enough he would find her movement would become a lot more fluid and precise. Palm was able to hold her own against a skilled foe with whatever was available to her, but this...This was her art form.

It was the only means of pure self expression she had ever practiced.

The only concern she had left now was pulling her mind back into its previous focus. She did not wish to allow those feelings to sour a morning that had been perfectly enjoyable and productive. She did not want them to get in between them, so she would not let them. It didn't matter if deep within her she knew it would never really be up to her. Someday it would require an answer, and silence would not be accepted as a response.

But that day was not today.

Her main hand flipped the half-sword into a reverse grip, blade parallel to her forearm while her off hand still remained neutral, its stick pointing at the ground. One of her feet slid backwards as she fell into her stance, the reversed forearm was raised before her while her off hand lagged behind, in a position where it was harder to pin point and keep track of.

She took a deep breath, bidding it to take all the turmoil with it when it was exhaled. Her eyes closed for a moment before opening again, that focused look slowly returning to them. When the time came to move forward she did so at a pace that was, surprisingly, a bit slower than before. It was not the result of tiredness, but of concentration. She would get as close as he let her without truly pressing an attack besides her moving forward. The previous two openings had been hers, it was time to return the courtesy.

This time it would not be about landing hits or trying to have the upper hand. It was about falling into a rythm, about synchronicity. To show him the true extent of what she could do, she would first have to see him.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

S U R V I V E​

LOCATION: Stewjon - Lechner Home
WEARING: xxx
TAG: Palm-Imer

The moment between them was tender, until it was not. There was a pull between them, and for as close as they were, she still felt distant. Gerwald did not want the moment to end, nor did he want to show her how easy it would have been to break her neck, but her particular tactic would have been a risk against a warrior like him. Palm was strong, and he knew it, but their strength was equal. Breaking the weapon had not been meant to be a demonstration of that fact, but it was not lost on him that it could be as well.

It would have been easy to do something else, to move things in another direction. As her face turned, a different motion could have lifted it. Gerwald did not want to confuse things. The turmoil inside him made it confusing enough already, not because he did not know what he wanted but because he wanted something he should not.

As they looked at each other, everything between them was silent for a time. The weight of it pulled at that place within Gerwald which wanted to give in, to tell her everything about how he felt. Would it be so bad if he just confessed the truth they both already knew? Had he just done that with Naedira would things have been different? The war within the lupine was not just over what could be, but what might have been as well. Then there was the matter of his promise to both.

The silence brought something else between them, another understanding that they were in fact, equal. Yes, Gerwald had many advantages she did not, but when it came to strength and combat the pair seemed well matched. Neither had been able to claim an advantage over the other in any true sense, though with the Force Gerwald was certain he could have, had he wanted to.

Their eyes met once more as he handed the weapons to Palm. A thank you in her own language was offered. As he had with her morning greeting, Gerwald had been able to guess the context of this word. Another smile pulled at his lips. There was something he enjoyed about hearing her speak in her native tongue. It was as though she allowed that glimpse of her true self. In fact, Gerwald would go as far to say it made the Palm-Imer he saw in front of him more like the Palm-Imer she had opened to him in those moments before he had saved her on Roon.

“You will have to teach me,” he said regarding her language.

It was a simple request. One he was certain the geminaie would have no problem agreeing to. He was curious about her still, and this was one piece of the mystery that made the woman who she was. If they truly wanted to get to know each other, then this would be a way to do that.

This was not the time for such thoughts however. Palm took her opening stance, this time much different from the natural position of Djem So. Her attacks would be different now, each strike bringing the threat of a second with it. However, as she moved about the area Gerwald quickly picked up on the fact she was waiting for him to strike.

He nodded, affirming that he understood her intentions.

“The loser makes dinner tonight,” the lupine bargained with a grin.

Gerwald was not a complex combatant. He did not try and trick his opponents with fancy maneuvering or misdirected attacks. As Palm would discover, Gerwald was rather direct with his attacks. His chosen form was about defense, and countering, using his opponent’s attacks again them. He would ensure that he did not offer the geminaie the same opportunity.

The opening stance was taken, his blade angle downward at a forty-five degree angle kept him from being too exposed in case Palm changed her mind and pressed the attack first. His movements matched hers for a moment until Gerwald was confident that she would not engage him first this time. His attack would be quick and decisive. Stepping into it, Gerwald brought his blade down in an angled motion in a path that would move from Palm’s shoulder to her opposite hip if she did not block the attack.

Gerwald anticipated his movements would be countered, which was why he attacked as he did. She had wanted him to attack first, but that did not mean he could not dictate the options she had available to her in combat. Her stance, and the position of her blades limited the ways she could counter, and Gerwald had already accounted for them all, not committing his full strength to the strike.
​

 

[Palm-Imer]

Location: Stewjon, Lechner Home.
Tagging: Gerwald Lechner

​

It started as nothing more than a ripple, drawing a curve on the edge of her lips.

"You can learn my language," The thought brought a special kind of tenderness, sharing the words that were closest to her heart and truest to her identity with him was something the geminaie would do gladly. "...if I can learn yours." It was only fair, after all. Galactic Basic held the beauty of it's immense reach, the one language that managed to connect people from one end of the galaxy to the other. And still, it would always pale in comparison to the meaning held by the words one heard since infancy. The words use to forge who they were.

Palm had always struggled to see what that was. Who she was. Although a lot more easily than what she was doing now, those concerns had also been swept under the rug of duty and obligation. It did not matter if she didn't know, for a role had already been scripted for her. All she had to do was play her part and let the show go on.

That was becoming more and more difficult to do since she flew away from her home-world. Away from the eyes that monitored her, faced with new realities and challenges, the cages were starting to crack open. In some ways, she did know herself deeply. She had convictions and values, she had dreams and drives. However, that was not enough, that was not all. Palm was still searching for answers to her questions, but with every moment spent in the presence of the lupine a reassurance took root within her.

She liked the person she was when next to him.

That ripple grew, becoming like a thin and tranquil stream that ran over the burns that fire had left behind. It was just as intense, but it was soothing. It was calming, and it went deeper. "Very well, I accept those terms." Her response also put a bright smile on her face. It did not fade as she moved, her body tilting its balance with an ease that hadn't quite been there before as she dodged. Soon after the gemianie would press an attack of her own, and so the spar began.

Her focus began to shift, unrushed and free. Her body knew the moves, her instincts had her trust, and so her mind was able to focus solely on one thing. Gerwald. The way in which he moved, the simple but efficient and unshakable nature of his motions. There were no inherent weaknesses to find, that was the power of concision. But she was not searching for any either, not really. With each passing second she allowed herself to fall into the trance that was observing an opponent, only this was different. He was not just any opponent.

Her mind plunged into that stream, into those feelings that could threaten to set her alight or, like right now, put her into a state of peace. She allowed herself to remember the words they had shared on Roon. How could this be wrong? And then, aided by the anchoring that her concentration on the spar brought, Palm allowed herself to let go of both the anguish of their silence and of the guilt that showing their feelings brought. When they were both set aside, she could see that the roots of what she felt for him reached down into infinity, but they did not lose themselves there.

Her strength, in this moment, was trust. Trust in him. In knowing that if she had to live out the silence of these feelings until the very end, it would be alright. They were another part of her, no matter what, and when she was with him she wanted to be nothing but what she truly was.

Time was lost to her as wood clashed against wood. At some point it felt as though this had become more of a dance and less of a fight, each step coming to her naturally, fluidly. As though it was all part of a choreography they had always known. Sometimes there would be mistakes, and she would take his guidance and then fall back into that flow. Again, and again. Her eyes would meet his, and the stream would become like a river. Stronger, faster, yet always calming. It whispered something in her ear.

She had never sparred like this, baring herself so fully. So entirely open to whatever would come, hit or miss, and to whatever he would show her. He had the power to make her trust or doubt herself in ways she never had before, and whenever it was up to him he had always chosen the former. He beckoned her to walk into a place that promised the answers she sought, he had always been trying to lead her to it since the day they met.

Palm had pushed herself well past exhaustion, the aching bite of tiredness grasped every fiber in her body, yet for a long time she
did not care. She simply kept going, letting her mind revel in the feelings he inspired, but also on that whisper, and on on the realization it brought. When she could not keep going anymore, when the physical language they were speaking could no longer take precedence over the words she was going to say, she stopped.

As he slashed at her in an upwards motion there was one last dodge, and she opened her hands. The sticks she had been wielding as weapons fell to the ground. One hand sought his wrist once more, and the other found its place over his opposite shoulder, making it clear that this was not an attack but her way of breaking them out of the seemingly endless spar they had been in. Her chest was heaving, and a slight tremble took over her shoulders now that momentum was gone. When he lowered his arm and they were standing still before one another, her eyes raised from the ground to meet his once more.

"I would like to ask something of you."​

The hours locked in this spar had led to this moment. He would see the feelings she held for him reflected in her eyes because he knew how to search for them, but there was also something else. She trusted him. He showed her there was a better path. He made her believe that it was one she could take.

Sooner rather than later the darkness would stop waiting for her. The walls she had set up would begin to crack, and there would be no where else to turn to. But there would be someone. If she was to face the impossible, then she would want him to be waiting on the other side. What she was going to say was an understanding that had always been there to some degree, but now, standing in the calm before the storm, she wanted him to know what this meant to her. To make it real.

"If I see the end of this, if I can return to the Force, I want you to teach me."​

The heaviness of knowing that it might never come to happen laced every single word, but so did hope and certainty. Palm did not know who she was, nor if there would be a future long enough to find out. But if there was, then she wanted to know who she'd become under his guidance.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

S U R V I V E​

LOCATION: Stewjon - Lechner Home
WEARING: xxx
TAG: Palm-Imer

His request came with a counter. Her language for his, was the price she demanded. The lupine nodded.

“I can teach you what they speak here. As for the native tongue of the Lupine, I am afraid my family left Figaro Favoura VII long ago, so long the tongue has long been forgotten.”

Gerwald was more Stewjoni than he was anything else. For years he had spent time researching the Lupine species, hoping to find answers about what he was, and where he had come from. The search led to an old estate he had yet to visit or rebuild, and the truth that his family left because they were at odds with the other great houses. It was an odd thought to know he descended from a proud house, a ruling house, when the only life he knew was that of a warrior, the son of a farmer. He had not been raised to rule, and Gerwald was content with it.

His dinner wager was also accepted. Regardless of the outcome, Gerwald would win, as he did not mind smoking meat over a fire. He was much better at that than cooking breakfast. A grin tugged at his lips at their agreement before both fell back into the rhythm of their fight.

Time stood still and yet moved too quickly all at once. What began as a simple opening turned into a dance of counters, dodges, and an intense focus on the other that everything else seemed to blur around them. They were not touching the force, but that did not mean the force was not touching them. It would work as it wished, connecting all things together whether one acknowledged its presence or not. Some would argue the force was an active thing, like a deity imposing its will on mankind. Others believed it was more passive, that it simply existed. The lupine was not one to embrace either opinion. As a creature of nature, Gerwald simply knew what was, and that was good enough for him.

In the moment, there was him and there was her. Palm would move in a much more elegant way than the lupine. His movements were more concise and rigid. She moved with the grace and fluidity of water. Overtime she would erode the jagged edges of the cliff, smoothing the surface. Where her strength lay was the ability to move in ways Gerwald could not. This did not mean she outpaced him in the fight by any means. Gerwald was used to long and drawn out battles.

When the dark ones had been ravaging their land, the wolf had spent countless hours fighting to push them back, or at least keep them at bay. It had astonished him how easily the Confederates had defeated them. It had not been their technology which had given them the advantage, but their mastery of the force. Gerwald had met others touched the same way he had been. That had been what planted the seed for him to leave with the Knights Obsidian in the first place.

As if every moment played from that decision forward, Gerwald found himself lost to what their dance produced. In the end the wolf gave in to what was. Whatever pain he felt was gone for now. The guilt which consumed him for feeling as though he was not being fair to Palm, or his promise to another seemed muted. As their weapons clashed, it was him, and it was her. His world could not have been any smaller in that moment, until suddenly he was pulled from whatever place he had been lost in.

His chest heaved, breathlessly laboring to capture air. He had not known how tired he was until her hand grabbed his wrist and an arm draped over his shoulder. Their eyes locked once more, and once more Gerwald could see the feelings the woman held for him, and this time he did not hide his from her. There was something new behind her feelings, something he had not seen before.

Trust.

Once again it seemed she had given the lupine power that he did not ask for, but would admit finally he had earned. She would see that trust returned with fear, fear that would not be able to live up to the thing she had entrusted him with.

She wanted something of him. It took every ounce of his willpower to not pull away and run from what he knew she was going to ask. Duty demanded one answer, and his feelings demanded another. The Knights needed to rebuild, and that meant every willing and able student be taught to master the force and hone their skills. Their understanding, that they would not allow the other to die demanded that he tell her no. Roon had shown the lengths both were willing to go to ensure the other survived. If he agreed to teach her, then her life was his responsibility in a way which both aligned and conflicted with his feelings.

Yet, he had been teaching her from the day they met. Regardless of their feelings, he was her mentor. She was his squire.

Gerwald nodded.

His arm lowered and the weapon which had been gripped firmly in his hand fell to the ground. A soft thud could be heard as it collided with the grass the pair had torn up over the past several hours. His eyes never left hers as the truth of what they both knew settled in the moment. There was only one answer for Gerwald to give, only one which was right.

“I am likely to be harder on you than my other students,” he said as his fingers searched for hers. Her touch begged his own as well. “But if I am to agree to this, then we will not wait for you to find the force again. If you are to defeat this thing you are hiding from you need to learn another way. You need to learn what the Soll’nav should have led you to.”

He paused a moment, letting his words settle before giving the answer.

“You must learn balance. When light nor dark exist to you… that is when you will be strong enough to fight what you fear. I will not lose you to this… you know why I cannot.”

A smile tugged at his lips as his eyes took on a playful glimmer.

"You stopped first... that means you're making dinner."
​

 

[Palm-Imer]

Location: Stewjon, Lechner Home.
Wearing: XxX.
Tagging: Gerwald Lechner

​

She knew what she was asking of him was not easy. Palm could not sense him now, nor had he shown his truth to her when the Force still held their minds together, but that did not blind her eyes to the emotions that danced in his own. She knew, and because of that knowledge she was ready to receive any answer. It was surprising how even while her feelings could so strong to the point of causing a grieving longing, they could still be so gentle and in their own way, patient.

Sometimes they burned, but they could also heal.

The conflict in his eyes was just as clear as his emotions, and while this threatened to lure out the guilt again, she did not let it. The longing was still there, the searing pain or the demand it often brought were not. There was acceptance. Her feelings, his own, whatever walls were keeping them from giving in - it all weighted on her heart, but this was them. If she could face death to not lose him, then she could face her feelings and still stand next to him no matter what. No matter the truth, no matter the duty, no matter the guilt, nor the ending.

He nodded, and what could perhaps be the purest of smiles stretched her lips as her eyes fell closed for a moment. Peaceful. She felt his hand slide into her own, that warm feeling making its home deep within her chest but without its usual fierceness, it still longed for more but it was content with what was given. Her own fingers wrapped around his, as she opened her eyes once more to hold his gaze as he spoke.

"I owe them more than I will ever be able to repay..." Her heart clenched within her chest for a moment as she spoke in reference to the Order that had raised her, yet as much as it was painful it was freeing. It was the truth, and he would see how that pain did not dull the brightness in her amber eyes, the embracing of what she was to become. Then a smile turned bittersweet. "But now my path as a soll'nav has ended."

It had taken her too long to admit that to herself, and for once the admittance felt right. It did not come without sorrow, but it came with no regrets. It came with hope, and that was all she could ask for. He had been guiding her all this time, and now she was ready to follow him with no chains attaching her to vows that had already been broken.

Now was the time for balance.

The only thing that truly teared a silent wound into her heart were his last words. He couldn't lose her, for the same reason she could not lose him. Even without having acted on their feelings they had both made immense sacrifices, just because the thought of any other alternative was unfathomable. But she had seen the darkness. She knew that even if her heart was brimming with hope, with trust, with love... it might not be enough . That day would come, and she could not promise how it would end.

But it was not today, and so with his smile she let out one of her own that would soon be replaced with a laugh. "Alright, it was a fair win."

XxX
​

The sun begun to set, and after changing out of clothes that were too dirty to be anywhere near a kitchen, she had set to the task of making good on the terms of their challenge. Was she a culinary genius? No. Did she know her way about ingredients and how to prepare them? She knew enough.

The geminaie were a mighty people, and that meant they needed food that ensured the sustenance their bodies required. In fact, they were so unaccustomed to the more modern and processed foodstuffs that they could not tolerate them very well. It was good news, then, that Stewjon shared this trait when it came to diets. Fresh meats and vegetables were abundant, and while they weren't the same as in her home-world, the power of intuition and sense of smell would guide her through the preparation of a meal that was, at its core, the definition of homemade. Simple, filling and tasty.

She sat down with him to enjoy the meal, satisfied with the results. Then her memory went back to earlier that day. Her body was still tired, there was no denying that, but as the cool breeze of the night air blew in and the sounds of the night started taking over the silence of the afternoon she could not help but ask. She wanted to see Stewjon through his eyes, and this would be a part of it.

Palm offered a smile, a spark in her eyes that contradicted the tiredness that she was sure she would very soon forget.

"Are we still up for that run?"