The Affairs of House Zambrano

[Gorba the Hutt]

The shuttle settled down on one of the many landing pads of the citadel known as Vain Hollow. A grim, forbidding fortress which jutted from the side of a mountain, cruel and dark.

Arkaitz disembarked the shuttle via a ramp, tall and imperious in his skullish mask and red cape, with [member="Christie Daae"] not far behind. A new acquisition, with a voice of gold.

The princeling did not look at her. "I am not in my father's favor. If any members of the court should approach you do not speak to them, do not even look at them unless spoken to. We have a number of... ceremonies we follow here on Panatha. Pray you are not summoned before my father."

An audience with the God King was not one to be easily forgotten.

[member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Izevel Zambrano"] | [member="Aeron Zambrano"] | [member="Chaddeus Zambrano"] | [member="Enoch Zambrano"] | [member="Evaelyn Zambrano"]

 

[Christie Daae]

An unnatural layer of mist seemed permanently stuck to the ground. Pools of deep-brown widened at the scenery. Not even the screens from the history holos Lord Orcus had the children at the orphanage study could do this place justice. It was as vast as it was treacherous. Rock formations jutted from the earth like gnarled claws. It felt as if a thousand ghosts haunted these grounds.

Gathering the layers of skirts and petticoat in her fingers, she quickly followed [member="Arkaitz Zambrano"], plunging into the layer of cold-damp fog at her feet. Mind tried not to wander on the things beneath and unseen. She already missed the protocol droid.

The Zambrano's back was getting further and further away with his lanky-strides. The Bella Donna struggled to keep up, wondering if Lord Orcus would release her from this contract if she wrote to him. Wondering if Arkaitz was capable of not only giving love but receiving it. Wondering if she had the courage to run away. Wondering if she had the courage to stay.

Foot stumbled.

"Ark.....wait," she pleaded quietly.

[member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Izevel Zambrano"] | [member="Aeron Zambrano"] | [member="Chaddeus Zambrano"] | [member="Enoch Zambrano"] | [member="Evaelyn Zambrano"]

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

He turned sharply, scarlet cape fluttering around his mist-wreathed figure. Wide brown eyes stared up at him, terror in their depths. Fear of the unknown, made all the worst by ghastly imagination. Unfortunately for her, his father had a reputation of living up to people's nightmarish expectations. Arkaitz realized she must feel lost and alone.

For a moment he paused, struggling with an odd tightness in his chest as he looked upon her helpless form and listened to her pleading, then it was gone. Nothing more than some passing weakness, easily stamped out. What use had he of pity, when the galaxy had shown him none?

"Yes?" He asked, tone sibilant, drawn out and impatient, like the irked hiss of an adder that finds its territory encroached upon by foreign boots.

Would she faint from fright? Arkaitz had not when he'd first arrived. Not until father took a web of lightning and melted his face. He'd fainted then, with the pain. A shudder trembled through his heart at the thought of her flawless ivory skin marred by one of his cousins. The God King was far less merciful now. If he chose to lay a finger on her it would be to turn her body into ash.

Why had he brought her here anyway? Arkaitz found he did not truly know the answer. To display her as some trophy? No, no not that, he dared not bring her near the others for fear they would seek to harm her to get at him. Nor was it for her voice, though he wished to hear her sing once more. It was because she was normal, by Vain Hollow standards. She was sane. And though she occasionally irritated him, she did not seek to do him harm. Was it so wrong of him, to try and have someone normal in his life? Just one.

Yet, he feared he sought too much.

[member="Christie Daae"]

 

[Christie Daae]

[member="Arkaitz Zambrano"]

She steadied herself and walked quickly to catch up to the lumbering, Zambrano form. His tone was petulant. "Unless you wish to carry me with a sprained ankle, Monsieur, I do hope you'll slow your pace just a little."

The moisture from the air lingered on her skin, casting a cool, damp sheen. She was trembling but whether it was from fear or cold she didn't know. And she would never admit it to Ark. Hands tightened around the fabric of her skirts, to keep from tripping. And to steady her limbs.

"Why do you do that?" She whispered, finally at his side. "The moment we stepped from this ship you are a different man. A far different one from our first meeting. How many masks do you have?"

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Slowing, Arkaitz turned to regard her. Eyes of tortured gold tracked the misting dew along her neck before flicking up to meet her gaze.

"However many I need in order to stay alive."

Leather clad fingers curled tightly around the edge of his cape, pulling it closer to him. He looked down at her ankles. They did not appear hurt.

"Do you require me to carry you?"

The yawning gates of Vain Hollow drew near. Two sentries stood posted at the entrance, clad in entirely black armor, silent as the grave. Blackblades, Kaine's personal guard. Though there were many bastards of the God King, they knew Arkaitz on sight and would not deny him entry, nor his guest.

[member="Christie Daae"]

 

[Christie Daae]

[member="Arkaitz Zambrano"]

Deep pools of brown focused on the guards. Their dark forms loomed from the mist like specters. More like solid, beasts. Fair skin paled further. But her back straightened and her shoulders were thrown back.

She was a performer and she couldn't afford to show fear in a Nexu's den.

"No but I do require the assistance of your arm." Without waiting for permission, she quietly looped her arm through his, leaning into him for support on the uneven and mist-covered ground. Once she could see her steps, she would release him. Once the ground smoothed out. At least, that's what she told herself.

They were nearing the gates so she had time to whisper one more thing to her new contract owner. Temporary contract owner.

"But is this really living?"

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Once more did Arkaitz Zambrano feel the warmth of another being tucked close, clinging to him as if he was a figure of protection rather than a monster. He did not understand, why would she cling to him thus when the nobility of the court all seemed to shun him as one? Friends at Vain Hollow were few and far between.

Together, they stepped passed the sentinels and through the high, pointed archway and into the depths of the citadel. A vaulted ceiling rose above their heads. The place was poorly illumined by a series of glow rods affixed to the dark stone wall.

"Do I not breathe? Do I not exist? What else is there..."

Besides suffering, of course.

[member="Christie Daae"]

 

[Christie Daae]

[member="Arkaitz Zambrano"]

Her arm tightened around his own. She could feel the brush of his cloak against her side, the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric of his gloves. Eyes adjusted to the sudden din of the inside. It was a wonder anything could be even more muted and dank than the misty graveyard.

At least the mist was gone. Her skin would be given a chance to dry and to warm up, if the cold didn't leach it all out first.

"Ark, that is surviving, not living. When you described how art made you feel. That's living. Warm sun on your skin after a long winter. The joy of seeing a companion after a long separation. That's living. Don't you see? You must know yourself to find yourself."

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

A frown creased a warped brow beneath the mask. He'd not expected such a retort. In his life there had only ever been three types of people: Sycophants beneath his station who agreed with his every word simply to try and worm their way into his favor so that they might, by extension, have an 'in' with the Zambranos; The nobility of Pacanth, who looked upon him with disdain; and lastly, everyone else in the galaxy - all of them expressing only hatred, contempt and disgust at his very existence as a Zambrano.

Click, clack. The echoing sound of his booted heels as he tread down the darkly lit hallways in silence, pondering her words, nearly forgetting that her arm was looped through his. Could it be that she cared for him? The thought was so foreign he nearly rejected it out of hand. Still, her words rung of truth.

Perhaps she had a point.

"Then living is a luxury, only attainable to those who are not being forced to survive."

He glanced down at her.

"I've had a room prepared for you. Please inform me if it is satisfactory."

They rounded a corner and he gestured toward a simple dark oak door inside a pointed archway.

[member="Christie Daae"]