Zesiro
High Lady of Kesh
The hour Muad had given her passed differently than Zesiro expected.
She remained in the Memoriam for some time after he left, standing beneath the impossible constellation he had created while the silence settled around her. Her eyes found Edric's crystal again and again among the hundreds suspended overhead, although she could not have explained how she knew which one was his. Perhaps it was simply because she had placed it there. Perhaps some lingering thread of the Force remained between them. She did not say another farewell because she had already realized that this was not what it was. Instead, she allowed herself to remember him without immediately following every memory into the same unanswered questions that had haunted her for seven years. For once, she remembered the man rather than the mystery of what had happened to him, and when she finally turned toward the turbolift, she left his crystal shining among the others without feeling as though she were abandoning him there.
The suite Muad had arranged on Skyhook Thirty-Three was far more luxurious than anything she would have chosen for herself, though she supposed she should have expected nothing less after seeing what Kaer 1 offered its visitors. She spent several minutes simply standing beneath the hot water of the refresher, letting it wash away the sweat and grime from their unexpected journey down the side of the station and onto the back of a beldon. Eventually her thoughts returned to the Memoriam, to Edric and Arabella, and to the strange comfort of discovering that Muad understood a burden she had believed was hers alone. Nothing had been solved. Edric remained missing, and some stubborn part of her suspected she would always look twice at a familiar silhouette in a crowd, but something had shifted nonetheless. She could love the life they had shared without spending the rest of hers waiting for it to resume.
That thought remained with her as she stood wrapped in a towel before the wardrobe Muad had promised would contain anything she might wish to wear. The selection was absurd enough to make her laugh, especially when she discovered several dresses clearly intended for occasions far more formal than dinner with her father. She passed over them in favor of something that felt more like herself: fitted black trousers that followed the long lines of her legs without restricting movement, a deep sapphire blouse of soft, flowing fabric with a modest open neckline, and a tailored charcoal jacket light enough to wear comfortably through the station. A slim silver chain rested at her throat, accompanied by small matching earrings, while black heeled ankle boots completed an appearance that was polished without becoming ceremonial. She left her hair loose, the blonde strands falling naturally around her shoulders after she dried them, and used only enough cosmetics to accentuate the blue of her eyes.
She stopped when she caught her reflection.
Muad's earlier question returned unexpectedly. When you look in the mirror, do you recognize yourself? Zesiro studied the woman staring back at her and found that the answer was more complicated than she would have liked. She recognized pieces. The woman who had survived a stolen childhood was there, as was the weapon someone else had tried to make of her. She could see Edric's wife and Hannah's mother, the guardian who had stood beside a president, the fugitive who had learned that disappearing was wiser than fighting, and the daughter who had come to Kaer 1 because, somewhere along the way, she had realized she wanted her buir. None of those women were false, yet none of them alone was Zesiro either. Perhaps Muad had been right. She did not need to recover some forgotten version of herself hidden beneath all the others. She was allowed to become someone new.
By the time she left the suite, she felt lighter, although she would have struggled to explain precisely why. The ache remained. She suspected it always would, just as Muad had spoken of wounds healing while leaving scars behind, but for the first time in years she did not feel as though moving forward required her to leave Edric behind. She carried him with her. There was a crystal glowing in a hidden sky that now held the memories of who he had been to her, and somewhere beyond these walls, Hannah carried another part of him into a future neither of them could have imagined seven years ago. Zesiro could carry the rest without allowing its weight to hold her still.
She made her way toward the place Muad had chosen for dinner with several minutes to spare, discovering along the way that Kaer 1 looked different to her now than it had when she first arrived. Perhaps nothing about the city had actually changed. People still moved through its corridors, restaurants and shops remained alive with evening crowds, and somewhere far beneath them enormous creatures drifted peacefully through clouds painted in impossible colors. Yet it no longer felt like Muad's city, some distant place belonging to the life her adopted father had built while she was elsewhere living her own. He had called her his child again without hesitation. The Memoriam recognized her blood and would recognize Hannah's. A suite had been opened for her as though someone had simply been waiting for her to arrive.
For the first time since stepping onto Kaer 1, she understood what Muad had meant without ever needing to say it outright.
She had come to visit her buir.
Somewhere during the course of the day, she had come home.
The realization brought a quiet smile to her lips as she spotted Muad waiting ahead, and whatever lingering heaviness remained from the Memoriam softened beneath something warmer. She approached him with an easy confidence that had been absent earlier in the day, spreading her arms slightly to invite his inspection of the transformation from windswept beldon explorer to something considerably more suitable for dinner.
"Well, old man," she said, amusement warming her blue eyes, "I followed your instructions. I showered, found clothes, and even managed not to get distracted by anything dangerous on the way here." Her smile widened as she came to a stop before him. "So, where are you taking your daughter for dinner?"
Muad Dib
She remained in the Memoriam for some time after he left, standing beneath the impossible constellation he had created while the silence settled around her. Her eyes found Edric's crystal again and again among the hundreds suspended overhead, although she could not have explained how she knew which one was his. Perhaps it was simply because she had placed it there. Perhaps some lingering thread of the Force remained between them. She did not say another farewell because she had already realized that this was not what it was. Instead, she allowed herself to remember him without immediately following every memory into the same unanswered questions that had haunted her for seven years. For once, she remembered the man rather than the mystery of what had happened to him, and when she finally turned toward the turbolift, she left his crystal shining among the others without feeling as though she were abandoning him there.
The suite Muad had arranged on Skyhook Thirty-Three was far more luxurious than anything she would have chosen for herself, though she supposed she should have expected nothing less after seeing what Kaer 1 offered its visitors. She spent several minutes simply standing beneath the hot water of the refresher, letting it wash away the sweat and grime from their unexpected journey down the side of the station and onto the back of a beldon. Eventually her thoughts returned to the Memoriam, to Edric and Arabella, and to the strange comfort of discovering that Muad understood a burden she had believed was hers alone. Nothing had been solved. Edric remained missing, and some stubborn part of her suspected she would always look twice at a familiar silhouette in a crowd, but something had shifted nonetheless. She could love the life they had shared without spending the rest of hers waiting for it to resume.
That thought remained with her as she stood wrapped in a towel before the wardrobe Muad had promised would contain anything she might wish to wear. The selection was absurd enough to make her laugh, especially when she discovered several dresses clearly intended for occasions far more formal than dinner with her father. She passed over them in favor of something that felt more like herself: fitted black trousers that followed the long lines of her legs without restricting movement, a deep sapphire blouse of soft, flowing fabric with a modest open neckline, and a tailored charcoal jacket light enough to wear comfortably through the station. A slim silver chain rested at her throat, accompanied by small matching earrings, while black heeled ankle boots completed an appearance that was polished without becoming ceremonial. She left her hair loose, the blonde strands falling naturally around her shoulders after she dried them, and used only enough cosmetics to accentuate the blue of her eyes.
She stopped when she caught her reflection.
Muad's earlier question returned unexpectedly. When you look in the mirror, do you recognize yourself? Zesiro studied the woman staring back at her and found that the answer was more complicated than she would have liked. She recognized pieces. The woman who had survived a stolen childhood was there, as was the weapon someone else had tried to make of her. She could see Edric's wife and Hannah's mother, the guardian who had stood beside a president, the fugitive who had learned that disappearing was wiser than fighting, and the daughter who had come to Kaer 1 because, somewhere along the way, she had realized she wanted her buir. None of those women were false, yet none of them alone was Zesiro either. Perhaps Muad had been right. She did not need to recover some forgotten version of herself hidden beneath all the others. She was allowed to become someone new.
By the time she left the suite, she felt lighter, although she would have struggled to explain precisely why. The ache remained. She suspected it always would, just as Muad had spoken of wounds healing while leaving scars behind, but for the first time in years she did not feel as though moving forward required her to leave Edric behind. She carried him with her. There was a crystal glowing in a hidden sky that now held the memories of who he had been to her, and somewhere beyond these walls, Hannah carried another part of him into a future neither of them could have imagined seven years ago. Zesiro could carry the rest without allowing its weight to hold her still.
She made her way toward the place Muad had chosen for dinner with several minutes to spare, discovering along the way that Kaer 1 looked different to her now than it had when she first arrived. Perhaps nothing about the city had actually changed. People still moved through its corridors, restaurants and shops remained alive with evening crowds, and somewhere far beneath them enormous creatures drifted peacefully through clouds painted in impossible colors. Yet it no longer felt like Muad's city, some distant place belonging to the life her adopted father had built while she was elsewhere living her own. He had called her his child again without hesitation. The Memoriam recognized her blood and would recognize Hannah's. A suite had been opened for her as though someone had simply been waiting for her to arrive.
For the first time since stepping onto Kaer 1, she understood what Muad had meant without ever needing to say it outright.
She had come to visit her buir.
Somewhere during the course of the day, she had come home.
The realization brought a quiet smile to her lips as she spotted Muad waiting ahead, and whatever lingering heaviness remained from the Memoriam softened beneath something warmer. She approached him with an easy confidence that had been absent earlier in the day, spreading her arms slightly to invite his inspection of the transformation from windswept beldon explorer to something considerably more suitable for dinner.
"Well, old man," she said, amusement warming her blue eyes, "I followed your instructions. I showered, found clothes, and even managed not to get distracted by anything dangerous on the way here." Her smile widened as she came to a stop before him. "So, where are you taking your daughter for dinner?"
Muad Dib
