Private Shiraya's Embrace

[Kaila Irons]

Location: Chommell Minor
Wearing: Robes
Tag: Jael Amnen

Golden eyes shone in that twilight forest.

It was the earliest hour these "Nocturnist" priestesses would see her. She'd heard rumors of their work on her way home from the war in the Caldera, that they were the ones who tended troubled souls, and soothed more troubled minds. Descriptions of their practices were interesting to say the least, and Kaila suspected they were the sorts of women that men had spilled secrets to since the dawn of time.

The young Sith wasn't here for soothing, she didn't believe their moon goddess Shiraya could help a woman like her.

What she wanted was an informant, someone she and The Dark Court could use to their advantage.

She came upon the end of her earthen path, a clearing with unobstructed sight of the stars and moons were the first things she noticed. Then came the strange altar in the center of it all, surrounded by tents which flanked a great mossy boulder, beneath which opened a cave, curtained in soft fabric.

The Sith's arrival was hardly secret. Unannounced perhaps, but she needn't.

Soil and mossy crunched beneath the weight of metal and flesh hidden beneath flowing robes of Zeyd-cloth, and that fiery visage beneath her hood was sure to inform the priestesses of all they needed to know about this woman.

And so she stood in silence, gloved fingers threaded inside wide sleeves, politely waiting for a representative.

All the while she observed their camp the way a soldier would a battlefield.

​

 

[Jael Amnen]

It was as it was. As the moon-mother willed it. The night was cool. The company of her sister-priestesses was calming. And a visitor graced their grove.

Beams of light moved with the rustling leaves ahead, shining an inconsistent light on the scene. In the midst of the grove sat an old tree stump, of hard Chommelian wood. It had been hewn down by a storm many generations before, and a slab of stone placed upon its top. Their altar. A place of sacred rite before the mother of all living.

Beyond the altar, and barely visible to eyes that were still adjusting, flickered candlelight from cracks in the animal hide curtains that obscured a cave entrance. It was through this curtainthat Jael Amnen emerged, her hand drawing it back in a slow, deliberate motion as she offered the visitor across the clearing a knowing smile.

She stepped out, draped in earthen tones and golden jewellery. Her passage to the altar was ghostlike, her feet seeming to barely touch the ground as her fingers brushed the altar’s edge in silent benediction.

"Greetings, weary traveller. You carry great burdens." She spoke with clarity, confidence and calm.

She stooped, and cupped a flower bud that was growing out of the tree stump, through a crack in the altar's surface. The flower had closed for the night. Still, there was beauty in the shelter it provided itself.

"Things come here to hide away. To let their worries pass. Even if just for their tenure in our grove."

She stood again, hands clasped before her. Her eyes caught the shifting light, the flecks of gold dust at their corners glimmering like stardust as she regarded the visitor.

"I am Jael Amnen. And I am here to serve you."

Kaila Irons​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Robes
Tag: Jael Amnen

"Hmh." It was like reading something from a fairy tale.

An order of priestesses in the woods, emerging from a cave a lit by candles, the moon above shining on ashen hair and dark skin. But Kaila didn't believe in fairy tales, not anymore. Not since her princess vanished. The girl was pretty, and she appreciated this commitment to that gentle forest-folk aesthetic, but the sith was here on business.

She stepped forward, preparing to greet the priestess when-

"Greetings, weary traveller. You carry great burdens." She spoke with clarity, confidence and calm.

How did...?

Oh. it was the eyes. Sulfuric gold and wrapped in black robes, any street magician could point at a sith, randite or whatever they assumed her to be and say they were burdened, it was a low hanging fruit.

Her brows unknit, but it did not change the sith's expression much.

"I am Jael Amnen. And I am here to serve you."

That did, however.

Kaila blinked, brows just a little higher than before.

And then a beat passed before she realized she was staring, drinking in the blue, and sparkling gold.

"Anathemous." she inclined her chin in greeting, the closest this woman ever came to bowing.

"I... I had been hoping to discuss business with the grove."

Another glance spared at the tents. Were they alone?

"Do your duties cover such things, Priestess Amnen?"

​

 

[Jael Amnen]

"Anathemous. A name that carries much weight in its speaking. Is this who you wish to be...or who you hide behind?" She said, her voice soft and free of accusation—only the gentle, probing cadence of one trained in empathy and care.

She was within a meter of Anathemous in a blink of an eye, stirred no air and showed no rush. Her hand extended, with weightless effort, and turning palm-up in an unspoken invitation.

"Please. Business is such a harsh term," she said, he calming presence of the Force radiating from her. Her eyes like deep wells called to the wary traveller.

"I. Like all my sisters. Speak for the mother above. My duties cover all that you should need," she said, beyond calmly, an ethereal after-whisper lingering in the air.

Two other women, of beauty equal but differentiated from Jael, exited from the cave beyond the clearing, and brought small rustic wood carved stools with cushioned seats. The set them down beside the altar, and proceeded to set up a small pile of dry brush, and a wrought iron pot holder over what would soon be a fire.

"Come. Burden bearer. You have much to speak of. All I shall hear. The mother wills it. And she wills you eased."

Kaila Irons​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Robes
Tag: Jael Amnen

"Anathemous... is a name I fought for."

"A name many have died for..." she warned.

Why so many sought to test this claim, she would never know. But she would defend her right to use that name until the end of time. Not god given, not emperor given, not given at all.

She watched with mixed curiosity and suspicion as the others emerged, wondering what was in that cave which warranted they conduct business out here amidst the cool night air. Nature did the half-witch some good of course, but around others? she folded her arms more tightly, feeling exposed.

Still she sat as bid, giving a polite nod to the others. A fire seemed lovely right about now.

"Come. Burden bearer. You have much to speak of. All I shall hear. The mother wills it. And she wills you eased."

"Does she now?" she intoned with only the slightest skepticism.

"You speak of Shiraya, I assume? The moon goddess if I'm not mistaken."

"I'm surprised, admittedly," she confessed with a great deal more curiosity than before.

"To find an order such as yours off Naboo. I hadn't realized the Mother's influences expanded offworld."

"Is your sect connected to the temple back home, or do you differ somehow?"

​

 

[Jael Amnen]

Anathemous' reaction to the comment about her name was telling. There was no judgment in Jael's tone, only query. And Anathemous took it as an attack. She was shackled by the weight of others' opinions of her name. Even when none were spoken, still she lashed out.

"A powerful name it is. One you no doubt deserve..."

Jael sat on one of the stools, her hand gliding to the side in a light gesture that directed Anathemous toward the other.

“…a name that should send shivers down the spines of all who hear it. And likely already does…for many.”

A pot of water was hung above the small unlit kindling atop the altar. The white haired Amnen noble leaned forward. Her woven locks falling over her teardrop-shaped face. Silver eyes glanced up at Anathemous. "Matra Veyra, shira ignis."

No small flame emerged, engulfing the kindling, singeing but not truly burning it. The dancing light flickered over the serene face of the priestess, who simply leaned back into her statuesque upright posture.

"Shiraya. Veré. Talan'Shir. Moon-mother. The Huntress. The Silver Hind. Voryn'tala. So many names, and none capture her majesty entire." The flame shimmered across her features, a hint of a smile beckoning.

“Back home? This is our home. Generations have passed since House Amnen claimed these groves and the systems beyond. Our knowledge of the Mother only deepens. Our time here has been…illuminating.”

Her head tilted, but barely. The act seemed more of something than it was. An intensity without any change in expression, only in presence.

“What burdens do you carry today, Anathemous?”

Kaila Irons​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Robes
Tag: Jael Amnen

The sith seemed appeased, even if begrudgingly.

She sat as bid, giving the water a glance. To be boiled, no doubt, tea perhaps? A good start.

The stool shifted beneath her weight, forcing Kaila to plant her feet in the moss so as not to destroy the kind woman's furniture. She took a deep breath, and moments later, her body felt just a little lighter.

Jael spoke more of Shiraya then, many names, just as the priestess claimed. It seemed however the young Darth had made many assumptions and now she felt a hypocrite. She glanced into the blooming fire, freckled cheeks tinged with embarrassment.

"Forgive my ignorance, priestess. I'm afraid my understanding of force traditions is much too niche."

"I had no idea I was speaking to... nobility."

Was it lady Amnen? or did priesthood nullify such titles?

Kaila could never keep them straight.

“What burdens do you carry today, Anathemous?”

She met her silver gaze momentarily, then the flames again.

"War, plots, same as any Sith I suppose."

The blonde reached into her hood, instinctively rubbing a particular part of her neck, still sore. Her lips twitched at the pain, something that lasted but a fraction of a second.

"I didn't come here for help, exactly."

She gestured with the other hand, both gloved in black leather.

"Information, more like."

​

 

[Jael Amnen]

She allowed herself to appear coy. "If I am noble, I am of the lowest order. My only desire to serve the goddess, and those that seek her balm."

The water was already coming to a boil. Perhaps it had been warm already, but no steam had been lifting to the cool night air until now. Jael moved to take up a laddle, and a small earthen cup that had been provided by the departed priestesses. She poured both her and Anathemous a drink. She placed Anathemous' on the altar. No expectations. And then sipped her own.

She nodded in understanding. No judgment was passed on the Anathemous' status as a Sith. The mother had need of all her children.

She did make particular note of the way that the golden-eyed beauty favoured her neck. So much pain.

Jael's lips parted to partake of the hot water. That is all it was. Nothing more. But from the springs near the coven, containing minerals that gave a calming effect when heated with the right encouragement.

She did not press the matter of Anathemous drinking her own. It was her choice alone.

"Information can provide a soothing to the soul. I will help as much as the goddess wills it...please ask what you wish. I will not withhold what is mine to tell."

Kaila Irons​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Robes
Tag: Jael Amnen

"Not many would give up that sort of life." she said, surprised.

In fact it had never occurred to her that someone might. She fought every day just to be noticed and respected by nobles, but here this woman was, dressed in the humble robes of a priestess, drinking from a pot heated over a fire in the woods.

Kaila eyed her own cup, carefully removing her gloves and setting them aside. With fingers blackened near to the knuckle, she took up her drink in both hands. Curiously, she dipped a polished nail in, holding it up to the light for a few seconds. When the color remained black, she pressed her finger to lips as though she were just testing the flavor all along.

Just water, it seemed.

"Information can provide a soothing to the soul. I will help as much as the goddess wills it...please ask what you wish. I will not withhold what is mine to tell."

"Depends on the information." she hummed, taking a sip.

For someone who so regularly partook of tea, heated water wasn't so different, she supposed.

"What sort of folk come to your grove, priestess? Jedi, I'd assume?"

She gave the grove slower glance to drive home the point she was about to make.

"I get the impression you know how to make them relax, and that they talk to you because of it."

"But I think they don't offer much in return, do they?"

​

 

[Jael Amnen]

Her smile was knowing, calm and serene. She understood the game that was being played. And did not mind being a pawn in such things. She would simply follow the guidance of the mother.

"Warm water too soothe the soul," she said, before sipping a little more. A runaway droplet was scooped up quickly by a precise swipe of her finger, and deposit just beyond the edge of her lips.

A soft breeze caught her light robes, giving her motion even when completely still. Her eyes held their focus on Anathemous.

"People from all walks enter this grove. I do not ask. They do not tell. But the mother knows. As do her servants."

A full smile broke out on Jael's face now. Genuine mirth. Anathemous had tickled her sense of humour.

"Oh no," she said, with an unapologetic yet nonjudgmental laugh, "they offer nothing in return for our services because our services are not ours to give and sell...we serve the mother...which means we serve those that walk into this grove. She brought you here. And you will owe me nothing when we finish our time together. There is no debt incurred in this grove..."

Her laugh faded into a genuine smile. Her voice soft, edged with invitation.

"...only peace."

Kaila Irons​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Robes
Tag: Jael Amnen

"Hmh." she smiled in kind, knowing, embarrassed.

"Let us not speak of debts then."

A pause.

They wouldn't speak of gifts either, something offered for nothing in return, that wasn't quite what she came to do.

"Let us speak of... benefits." she hummed.

"In my career, I have come into a great deal of wealth and resources. I would see that they benefit the grove, help you build something here—more than tents certainly—see that you are as well looked after as those who come here."

"All I ask," she said more hesitantly than before.

"Is that you keep me informed."

"Of threats, of interesting arrivals, of news which may not reach Sith lands."

Another sip, steadying, grounding.

"Whatever you hear which might protect my people, and my interests."

​

 

[Jael Amnen]

Her eyebrows raised, ever so slightly. Despite the well groomed facade of innocent gratifier, Jael was no fool. It would have been hard for a fool to misunderstand what was being asked of her.

She put down her cup. And stood. The fabric of her gown fell back into the contours of her form. She began to walk away. Her legs apperered from out of her loosely tied robe, golden anklets catching the moonlight with each step. Her bare feet merely caressed the dew covered grass. It was cold underfoot. She showed no signs of concern.

On the edge of the dimly lit grove, before entering into the vegetation surrounding the well worn holy site, Jael stopped, and turned. The silver splashes of dust about her eyes catching the last hints of moonlight.

"Walk with me...Anathemous."

A single hand stretched forth, fingers curling in summons, not plea.

"Walk with me."

She turned and disappeared into the woods, and in moments could not be heard at all.

Kaila Irons​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Robes
Tag: Jael Amnen

She watched Jael stand up and leave.

That was is then, she assumed, glancing aside and sipping her drink. She wouldn't have blamed the priestess either, it was a lot to take in, it sounded risky too. Better to be honest with the woman though, she wouldn't press her into service the way her master had done to herself.

So it surprised her, when the woman bid her walk.

Brow raised curiously, she set her drink aside and politely rose. The moss sank deep beneath her boots, despite the practiced grace with which she flowed to her, like a black specter.

Hands tucked into wide sleeves, she followed her into the darkness and silence.

​

 

[Jael Amnen]

She did not appear again until a clearing a few minutes from the grove. The forrest was dense, but a well trodden path was forged through the foliage. At the end of the path, she stood with her back to Anathemous looking into a pool of water.

The moon light shone brightly. "I am no spy."

It was a statement of finality. The full stop was the robes landing on the rocks she stood on. She stepped down into the water. Steam rose from around her ankle, and then rose around her form as she descended into the ancient pool.

"But if the mother wills it. I will speak to you of such things."

Jael dived forward, under the water. The still darkness of the waters surface broke, waves lapping gently at the flat rocks that lined the edge of the water. She emerged from the water on the other side. Her hands pushed her hair from her face, water droplets lining her features. She turned back towards the dark, cloaked one.

"This is the best I can offer for your request. I cannot be bound to the will of another. We do not need nor desire your money."

Her eyes shimmered in the moonlight.

"Release your burdens, Anathemous. Come...the mother bids you eased."

Kaila Irons​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Tag: Jael Amnen

Oh the pool was pretty, but Jael?

Kaila moved unhurriedly towards her, standing alone, silhouetted by moonlit water. Another fairy tale moment, she thought. Then she stopped there, as robes were cast aside, and she entered the pool.

She was beautiful.

The sith blinked, surprised by who she was seeing more than what. Jael's answer made her lips curl.

She continued walking, Zeyd-cloth falling from her shoulders into dewy grass. Kaila did not swim—she couldn't if she tried—but she stepped into the pool with that same uncompromising grace. Her languid pace never changed, the water did not splash as she eased into it like it weren't there. The weight of iron and will simply cut through the water as she slowly approached, golden locks floating along the surface behind her.

"If the mother wills it." she echoed, acceptance, much as a question.

"Your order is a curious one, Amnen."

Kaila arrived at the other end in time, rolling broad shoulders as she leaned forward, crossing her arms over the rocks.

"I did not come here to bind you." she said after a time, watching her from the corner of that glowing eye.

"I prefer things more mutual than that. Make of it what you will."

​

 

[Jael Amnen]

"Our order is only to serve. We trust and accept Shiraya's will wholly," Jael said, sliding across the stone ledge under the surface of the water.

She was leaning against Anathemous' arm, her fingers toying lightly with the Sith's blonde hair. Her expression was soft, inquisitive but not pushy. "I am fulfilled in what brings you ease." It was a simple answer to Anathemous' provocative statement.

"Turn yourself away from me," she urged gently.

Moments later, warm water - cupped in her hands - was pulled out of the pool, and poured over the Sith's head. Several times, she dipped, and poured. Her hands moved over her head, pulling her hair back, hands running over her shoulders - massaging her muscular shoulders.

"You are injured. I can heal the wound, unless it holds meaning to you." She understood that some Sith held wounds in high esteem. She would not do something that was unwelcome.

Her thumbs pushed firmly into the knots in her shoulders. Likely, it caused pain, but hopefully also release.

"You are a warrior. Many battles. Without...within..."

Kaila Irons​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Tag: Jael Amnen

Jael answered many questions, even ones unvoiced.

If this was what fulfilled her—what she wanted, then Kaila would not pry further.

She turned as asked, gazing up at the moon, until warm water cascaded down her freckled face. She shivered on impulse more than temperature, having not expected it. After a time though, it became comforting. Her hair was soft in Jael's hands, like wet silk well kept, despite the warrior's figure suggesting a gruff lifestyle.

Her arms bore jagged scars which wrapped around their width with mechanical symmetry, marred by crude stitching long faded, like rings of barbed wire. They were old, faded by time and treatment, but the more Jael touched in the moonlight, the more apparent it would become that her fair skin was rendered soft by the regenerative properties of frequent bacta treatments, more than any skincare routine ever could.

Most noticeably, precise scars on the back of her neck were still reddened, still sore.

"You are injured. I can heal the wound, unless it holds meaning to you."

"Surgery." she explained.

"An implant, to restart my nervous system, in case of another emergency."

Her voice was softer now, not quite vulnerable, but close.

Then a soft wince as Jael pressed her thumbs into tight shoulders. There was a tension there, held so tight, Kaila hadn't even realized until she was clenching her teeth at the pain. Her muscles twitched, and water splashed as she threw her hand forward instinctively to stop herself from falling forward.

How long had she carried on like this?

"You are a warrior. Many battles. Without...within..."

"Always have been..." she said, with pride, and perhaps regret.

"A sith draws power from conflict, within and without..."

"I'll be fine."

​

 

[Jael Amnen]

Her hands worked their magic. Simple experience perfected her technique, pushing into flesh and pushing away the tightness of her coiled body. "So many stories that these scars tell. But the greatest tale of all lies is in your preparation for near death," Jael whispered, her fingers leaving the massage for a moment, and tracing the scar from the implant.

"Lirae, O Veyna-Mor, thessan koryn vehl, unthirra veyra, shal uthenn, eira thol vaeth." Jael spoke the words in a low, undulating tone of voice that became a song. Her touch warmed, fingers returning to their work of undoing knots. Yet warmth, not her own, but the Mother's, flowed through her touch.

A cloud briefly crossed before the moon. But the light that should left, remained still, reflecting off the pool, and the wet rocks surrounding it.

"You will be fine. If you care for yourself as well as you care for your equipment," Jael said, as her fingernail traced a scar on Kaila's back.

"Tell me, Anathemous. What is your regimen for rest?" She said, with not a hint of accusation, or provocation in her tone. She let the question linger.

"Or will you drive this magnificent body into ruin, chasing only your goals?"

Kaila Irons​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Tag: Jael Amnen

Near death...

She looked up at the moon. How many times had she prepared for the reaper's embrace?

A curtain was being pulled over the moon, much like the burial shroud she'd always known would be drawn over her long before she ever completed her great mission. She fought against inevitability, and thinking on it, so too had she surrendered to it. It didn't matter, she supposed. Fighting a losing battle, knowing she would die, that was a warrior's honor.

But this quiet, far from war, broken only by the woman singing soft melody in her ear...

Well, it made the calm before the storm bearable.

The "Mother's" warmth was more soothing than she'd expected, Kaila let out a soft, drawn out exhale as her body begrudgingly eased just that much more. Not truly vulnerable—she was a living weapon after all—but perhaps a chip in the armor.

"Tell me, Anathemous. What is your regimen for rest?" She said, with not a hint of accusation, or provocation in her tone. She let the question linger.

"Or will you drive this magnificent body into ruin, chasing only your goals?"

Her brows knit.

It reminded her of what Kirie said. She didn't have an answer then, and she didn't now.

"I... I don't know." she sighed.

"I am at peace when my body and mind may dedicate wholly to a task. So I chase the objective."

Her shoulders twitched into a shrug.

"And I garden... sometimes..."

​

 

[Jael Amnen]

A stubborn knot presented itself in her shoulder. Jael did not press to hard, instead, soft pressure kneading at its stubborn presence for a time.

She did not speak. Instead, starting to hum. Her voice was rhythmic, as her voice produced soft resonance that seemed to cause ripples across the waters surface. It was something for Anathemous to focus on. Something to distract her from the tension, so Jael could draw the stress out of her body.

"And you garden," she intoned, with a smile that sung its own chorus.

The knot loosened a little, Jael pressed, knowing it would cause momentary pain but a release that would bring greater calm.

"Speak to me of this garden. What do you plant? Did you have someone in your life that taught you how to garden?"

The questions had two-fold intentions. Distractions from the pain, and a desire to tug at a pleasant memory which would in turn see greater relaxation.

Kaila Irons​