Private The Gilded Cage

[Corazona von Ascania]

In the fragmented moments where she'd slipped into unconsciousness while being slung over the shoulder of Madrona A’Mia , Cora had pictured a dungeon. Dark, cold, and stinking of despair, not unlike the one she'd been held in on Ukatis, awaiting her execution.

She'd imagined pain. Torture. The rending of her flesh and mind as she writhed beneath the cruel, monstrous sneers of her captors. It wasn't fantasy - she'd seen the carvings on Jasper Kai'el ’s skin, witnessed the brutality a rogue Sith Knight had enacted unto Valery Noble out of vengeance. She knew something of grisly evils the Sith were capable of, and she'd steeled herself for what she'd figured was the inevitability that she may not survive.

Cora had been severely unprepared for the reality. The reality in which she was given a comfortable bed, luxurious clothes to wear, and servants to attend to her. With a few exceptions, had the freedom to move about the newly christened palace on Thule as she pleased. Darth Nwul had always been kind towards her. Ironic that they'd first met when she was subjugated under the boot of a royal marriage, and now she was his captive. A well-treated prisoner who lived in the opulence of a newly revitalized Thule.

At the very least, Cora mused bitterly to herself as she patted the soil around a freshly planted seedling, He is not Horace.

Sitting back, she lifted her hand to shift a stray blonde lock from her field of vision, taking a moment to admire the little sprouts of greenery she'd added to the garden. Silph flower was grown on Ukatis, and though it could be difficult to acquire, it was not exclusive to her home world. Its leaves were often crushed to prepare a mild analgesic, and the flower - when dried properly - could be steeped into a tea with stronger medicinal properties. Behind the closed doors of upper Ukatian society, noblewomen were said to drink this tea after congress to avoid certain complications.

With that task done, Cora gathered her tools and peeled back her gloves. She'd spent her days gardening, in meditation, and in study. Not in how to wield the dark - but its histories, attempting to view the forbidden aspects of the Force through an objective lens. If she was to remain here for the time being, she saw no reason why she couldn't make use of the vast library she had access to.

Until she could find a way out, that was. For now, she would be as compliant and cordial as she could manage. Self-preservation was stronger than her pride, and she was ever-wary of Nwul changing his mind about her. Despite her complicated feelings regarding the Lord of Passion, he held the power in their dynamic.

 

[Darth Nwul]

The Palace had been revitalized in just a few weeks, an army of droids and men working tirelessly to convert the structure into something livable even as machines worked to restore the Last City to a state that was suitable for the people. Nwul hadn't understood why they seemed so surprised that he had ordered the reconstruction of the city. The people of this world had earned his benevolence, why wouldn't he care after their woes?

It confused him, but he did not let it bother him for long. Rather he instead spent his time reveling in his new body. The Jensaa were scattering themselves across the stars as he had ordered, only a handful remaining on the world. His mind was now the focal point of a greater mechanism, each Jensaa a point of processing power that he could draw upon to think more clearly, faster, and with greater perspective. His body was stronger now, mighty. It could live up to the strain of the skills that he had once been wary of wielding.

In short, Nwul was mighty now.

It had taken a while, hadn't it?

He hummed to himself as he danced with the droid given to him by Saryn Zambrano , the coy little Sith Lord had showered Nwul with favor after Thule. The party was fast approaching. His silent meetings and conspiratorial discussions would blossom into something greater soon. How could he have not seen it before? How could he have not known? He hadn't been searching for some mythical Sith'ari to serve. He had already found the one to bring about the Golden Age of the Sith. Nwul snorted out a laugh as he finished the latest practice of the Utakan Waltz, committing it to memory.

"Me, of all people, humble? How strange that I thought so little of myself..." He murmured.

"My Lord?" The droid asked.

"Nevermind," He chuckled and turned away, stopping at the door. "...ah, I want to see her."

"Then follow your whims, My Lord. Master Xyrah says that the Dark Side guides a sith through their passions."

"And they call me The Lord of Passion," Nwul laughed out loud, "I am truly learning every day..."

He trailed off and pushed through the door, a skip in his step, a warmth in his heart, a twinkle in his eye. Yes, she was his prisoner, and for all she knew there were places restricted to her. But there was a starship waiting for her in the hangar, when she was ready to leave. She just hadn't discovered it and the note he'd left in it. The Jedi would never give someone a chance to choose, a chance to walk away, they would force her to understand their ways. But for Nwul. His love was vaster than the galaxy, millions of lifetimes of experience, millions of loves, and all of them. Right now. Were directed on her.

He hummed as he approached the door to her chambers and rest his fingers against the door. He hesitated, feeling her presence on the other side. She was enjoying herself, gardening again perhaps? He tapped the chime, announcing his presence. He could have just gone in, there was nowhere barred to him now. But something made him want to wait. He paused, then blinked when he realized he had nothing to give her!

A gift!

He frantically patted himself down, finding a fragment of golden material he had set aside after working on a project. He held it in his palm and pressed his mind against it, bending, twisting and straightening it with his power. It stretched and curled, finally taking the shape of a hairpin. He let out a gasp from the abrupt effort and straightened just as he sensed her on the other side of the door. Forcing an easy smile onto his face.

"May I come in?"

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

His presence drifted over her before the chime sounded. Nwul was impossible to miss - not with how powerful he'd grown, with how he felt no need to hide his presence. It burst from him like life itself.

That fact that he'd asked her permission to enter did not go unnoticed. He didn't need her permission, but she'd take it as a nod to her personal space.

"You may." She responded smoothly, untying the apron from over her dress as handing it off to an attendant. Cora may have been a captive, but she still held herself with an aristocratic bearing. The family she'd come from - before father had ordered her to join the New Jedi Order as a gesture of good will to help ease their membership into the Alliance - had been one of Ukatis' oldest noble houses. Now she was here, on Thule, having been captured in combat while attempting to stop the dark ritual with the Jedi.

For a captive, Cora was being treated exceptionally well. Still, parallels between her time on Ukatis and Thule existed. A woman kept in luxury by a powerful man.

All of the extravagance in the galaxy couldn't stop the way her heart ached. She missed the Jedi temple, missed the family she'd found in the Nobles, missed the familiarity and comfort of the relationships she built on Coruscant. She missed the simplicity and depth of what she'd had with Makko, and the way that they were before Horace stole the stars from her eyes.

Cora passed off her gardening tools to another attendant, smoothing down the fluttering silk of her dress as the doors to her chamber parted. She met Nwul with a distant smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"My Lord," She dipped her head into a bow, back straight and shoulders squared. Her gaze flickered to the hairpin in his hand, then to his face as she rose. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Darth Nwul

 

[Darth Nwul]

Nwul stood at the door in silence until he heard her assent, his eyes drifting to the panel that controlled the door. He engaged the switch with a thought and the door slid open with a hiss. His smile widened, then fell a little, when he saw her face. The Lord of Passion was more sensitive than any other Sith to the emotions of others. He could taste them in the air and read the distinctions and shifts like text on paper. He could feel her heartache. Ah. What a terrible feeling.

Then there was that distant smile.

Nwul regained himself only after a moment, the golden trinket made with his own hands disappearing into his sleeve. It seemed so... pathetic in light of what she was feeling. Was this guilt? He acknowledged it, perhaps, he had taken her away by force. He was greedy. He wanted her selfishly. The love that he understood so clearly, pure, unvarnished by good and evil, this was not the way. He clinically faced everything he felt in the time it took to breathe a breath. How strange that he had grown to the point that he could skip grief.

Ah, that thought hurt. He swallowed visibly, not chasing it away just yet. Letting himself feel it. He smiled at her with all the gentleness and affection he could muster before inclining his head.

"I've prepared a ship for you," Nwul said, "I'm glad I got to see you, Cora. The Synthguard will escort you. I am going to the garden to meditate."

He cleared his throat and turned to leave, reeling, being able to think so fast was something he would have to get used to.

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

His smile faded. Cora's heart bounded her chest, so sudden that it startled her. Had she upset him? Had he grown bored of her, and now intended to take away all that he'd given?

Was the other shoe about to drop?

In a brief panic, Cora steeled herself for whatever would be coming next - almost too preoccupied to properly observe his reaction. Then she caught the way he swallowed, and her mind finally stilled. Nwul felt emotions as easily as she could feel the earth beneath her fingertips whilst gardening. He must've felt her worry, and before that, the pain of her longing. Pale cheeks flushed, embarrassed. Such was the difficulty in being around someone you couldn't hide your feelings from.

Her eyes softened a touch, then flared wide. A ship? She could leave? Her heart rate spiked immediately, followed by her stomach dropping.

For a long moment, she simply stared at Nwul, absorbing his words, expression, and body language as best she could manage. He'd always been kind and gentle towards her, but Cora did not trust easily. She couldn't sense any deception from him, but if he was trying to trick her, would she even know? Would he ever do something like that to her? Were his feelings real, or was she just a passing fancy? Was he toying with her, taking advantage of her own feelings for him?

Was it really just…simple? That he’d felt her hurting, and wanted her to be happy?

Cora reached out, taking a gentle grasp of Nwul's sleeve before he could depart.

"Why?" She asked simply, "Why would you let me leave now, even if you don’t want me to?”

Conflict bubbled inside of her. She did want to leave, but not entirely, something she would have trouble admitting to herself. A Jedi shouldn't have those feelings. A proper noblewoman should know exactly what she wanted.

Cora wasn't angry; she was confused.

Darth Nwul

 

[Darth Nwul]

Nwul stopped in his tracks, partially turned away from her as she reached for him. His throat bobbed again when her fingers wrapped around his sleeve. He could sense her confusion, bewilderment, excitement, fear, it all muddled into something indescribable to most people. Nwul felt the threads between feelings but held his ground. His gleaming, inhuman eyes staring towards the hallway. One direction would take him back to the gardens. The other, eventually, to the Palace star port. He felt what she felt and let out a breath, a faint laugh creeping out of him.

"You Jedi..." He shook his head, "...I'm not taking the freedom of choice from someone I love. I can't do that. The ship was always ready, I just didn't say anything. I'm just a greedy man, Cora."

The very last line of the Sith Code was 'the force shall set me Free'. Freedom was the ultimate destination of a Sith. They can be cruel to their enemies, manipulative to their allies, and a terror to those in their path, a true Sith, to those they love, would burn a world before seeing them suffer. Perhaps he was the strange one among his kind. But his beliefs and behavior were rational in his eyes.

Even so. It was one of the few times he was jealous of his peers. He wished he could just... make her stay. Nwul faced those emotions as well, accepting them. He pulled himself free with a gentle tug, the act more painful than the ritual that had rebuilt his body into what it'd become. He wouldn't pressure her any longer. His mind was clear.

The message of "Be Safe, Cora". Left on the ship along with everything she'd need, food, supplies, weapons, even a pair of magna guards stowed away. Maybe it was a bit much but it set his heart at ease, yes, she'd be okay.

He strode down the hall. The twins waiting for him at the doors.

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora watched as Darth Nwul drifted away, her expression creasing in conflict. The fingers that had held his sleeve twitched, and she almost reached out for him-

Why did her stomach sink at the sight of his retreating form? He'd looked so happy when the door had opened, but his dejection had caught her by surprise. Her gaze lingered over the twins at the far end of the hall, then the empty space as he disappeared.

There was an urge to approach him, to talk this out, to understand more of what was going on in Nwul's mind, but she gathered that he needed his space to reflect.

~~

Cora waited until nightfall to head to the starport.

No one stopped her as she boarded the ship. No traps sprung. She may have been fraught with tension, but it didn't snap.

She should have grabbed Shan and left as soon as she could manage. Instead, Cora ran her hand along the console dashboard in thought, pacing as if she had all of the time in the galaxy. A neatly folded piece of parchment sat square in the middle of the pilot's chair. Unfolding the message, her eyes widened.

Be Safe, Cora.

Minutes passed as she stared at those three simple words, burning them into her mind. Somehow, they evoked a depth of emotion that she hadn't felt for quite some time. He really did care for her, didn't he? Her heart softened at the realization.

Cora shook her head, folded the note and placed it on the dashboard. Now sitting, her fingers brushed against dials and switches, recalling the proper sequence to initiate takeoff. It had been months since she piloted a ship on her own, but she could manage.

He had this prepared for me the entire time?

Anger rolled through her at the notion of Nwul keeping her here for as long as he had, and purposefully not mentioning that he'd planned her escape for her.

I'm just a greedy man, Cora.

He was, wasn't he? In a way, she was too. She wanted something that she couldn't have; to be the girl she was before her marriage. That wide-eyed, over-eager, innocent child from an old world with an unearned sense of confidence. She wanted to love and be loved in return, she wanted to protect her home and her family, and she wanted to fulfill the duties of a Jedi.

Cora could not have everything that she wanted, and as far as she figured, that was the way of the galaxy. But Nwul loved her - did she love him? An inexplicable attraction had developed between them on Ukatis, a bond that was, all at once, confusing and forbidden but satisfying. He'd been kind to her in her lowest moment, and continued to show her unconditional affection. He was enigmatic, terrifying, and unflappable. He could make her strong. He could give her a life of luxury. He could love her. He could give her so much, if only she'd let him.

She thought of Coruscant, of the Nobles. When Ukatis had rejected her, Valery and Kahlil had taken her in as one of their own. She'd formed bonds with countless Jedi, many of whom she'd counted among her friends. They'd fought together, survived incursions from the Sith and Maw and Mandalorians, and healed together. If she stayed, she'd be turning her back on them all. Was that worth it?

Cora squinted, pressing her fingers to either side of her temples. She had a decision to make.

~~

In the early hours, she woke with her face pressed against the dash. Cora pushed herself up from the console, blinking lazily and rubbing at the red imprint one of the plastoid ridges left along the side of her cheek. The ship was still and quiet. Fixing her gaze on the folded note where it sat, she inhaled deeply. Rising from her chair, she stretched gently, and headed for the exit ramp.

She didn't approach Nwul right away. Instead, she first went to see Shan in the servant's quarters. Cora didn't linger, sharing a brief, private conversation with the Mirialian before departing. A fellow padawan, he was a close friend, and despite Nwul's assurance that he'd be treated decently, she still worried for his safety. She would not leave without him.

It would've been easy to seek Nwul out via his presence. Instead, Cora walked along the halls of the palace, following the bond they shared like a thread.

 

[Darth Nwul]

The room that Cora found as she walked the halls of the palace, drawn by her connection to Nwul, was as secluded as it was secret. Behind a false wall and through a passage deep into the bowels of the citadel on Thule. Nothing barred her path, and the various guards, golden droids, whispy and ethereal jensaa, and red-robed 'imperial' guards, all only nodded to her solemnly as she went further on. Eventually arriving at a vault like door that opened after just a moment of scanning her face, her identity verified, she was allowed to enter. She stepped out not into an ancient tomb, or a dark and secluded Sith Meditation chamber. Rather, she found a brightly lit garden.

The room was a dome, circular in shape with a wide, raised outer platform that ringed the room in its entirety. Droids designed exclusively to caretake the garden drifted through the air now and then, stopping to attend to one plant or another. They were all from different worlds, the strange ichor-black soil beneath them providing sustenance despite their origin. Flowers, trees, colors that Cora may had never even seen before were basking in the brightness of an artificial sun and blue sky generated on the ceiling above. It was warm, humid, inviting. A single probe droid drifted to a stop in front of her, bobbing once in greeting.

"WELCOME Corazona von Ascania TO THE GARDEN OF LIES, THE MASTER IS AT THE CENTER, DO NOT TOUCH THE PLANTS. YOU WILL DIE."

As if the droid had decided that was that, it began to drift towards the center of the garden, explaining the foliage almost like a well read tour guide. Each and every plant was extraordinarily deadly, horrific plants capable of melting flesh and even disinegrating bone. Carnivorous plants kept compliant in the over-refined soil that was used to care for the predatory flora. The droid explained that a garden like this, where the plants stepped proudly into the realm of animals in many ways, was one that the 'Master' saw as strongly steeped in the natural world, a microcosm of nature. Despite it's beauty, this place was a deathtrap to those that did not watch themselves.

"BUT THE MASTER FINDS PEACE HERE AND POWER." The droid concluded, coming to a stop at a wooden archway endowed with violet vines and pink flowers. Beyond it, a gazebo had been built with red wood and lined with gold. A figure sat inside, sitting on the ground in meditation. "THE MASTER IS INSIDE."

Nwul was sitting on one of six decorative prayer mats in the gazebo, his eyes closed as the force swelled within him, his connection to the Dark Side and Mother Nature strong in this place. His low breaths coming slowly, almost as if he was asleep, but in an instant his eyes opened, the faint glow of those molten orbs illuminating the space in front of him. Despite the hurricane of controlled emotion that was his presence, his smile was... serene.

"Cora." The Lord of Passion breathed.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

As many things were with Nwul, the verdant garden he'd chosen to build, and subsequently spend his morning in, was unexpected.

"WELCOME Corazona von Ascania TO THE GARDEN OF LIES, THE MASTER IS AT THE CENTER, DO NOT TOUCH THE PLANTS. YOU WILL DIE."

Blinking at the little probe droid, it took a few moments for Cora to absorb the warning. She would die? The plants were…

Looking around, they appeared as tranquil and tame as any garden. But focus a bit closer and - ah, she could recognize the pretty blue buds of a bed of kewafi flowers. Vibrant petals soaked in color suddenly seemed less benign and more deadly. Thorny vines caught the light as she followed the bot to the center of the enclosure, to the pavilion where Darth Nwul sat in meditation.

He murmured her name and she swallowed thickly. For a few moments, Cora simply lingered by the steps, allowing her presence to fill the space between them as she, in turn, absorbed his own. She was nervous - an aspect she wouldn't bother to try and hide, given he'd sense it as easily as a breeze ruffling his hair. When she approached, she did so quietly, back straight and head held level, even as she settled onto one of the mats beside him.

With a tilt of her head, Cora regarded Nwul and how he'd changed from their first meeting. Green irises has been replaced with a golden inferno that ate at his sclera. The scars and tattoos on his tawny skin had disappeared, and he'd grown larger. Physically and mentally. He was alluring and terrifying all at once.

"May I stay," Her voice, soft and level with a hint of tension, carried through the space between them. "For a little while longer?"

"I'm not very good at talking about my feelings." She admitted quietly. He knew that, of course. Cora had been raised in an environment where she was expected to push her troubles down and not let them impede on the expectations her family had for her. Her gaze shifted over his face, taking the time to meet his eyes and speak slow and clear. A measure of affection softened the delicate features of her face.

"But I know that have feelings for you, Nwul. I want to understand them - to face them - as you do."

 

[Darth Nwul]

He did not move from his seat, nor did he adjust his robes to pull them back on to his chest, he sat just where he was, relaxed, within a focal point of the force. His eyes opened when she spoke, the molten orbs tilting up to search her face. He did not have to read her expression, her emotions were enough, with a gesture that was oddly reminiscent of a Jedi Master, Nwul gestured towards the cushion to his left, his gaze falling on it before glancing up at her. It took a few heartbeats, but he finally spoke. "You are always welcome in my home, Cora, please sit with me," The Sith Lord said, turning slowly to close his eyes again, a wry smile playing on his lips.

He listened to her, nodding along as he always did, that mischevious bob of the head. He snorted when she pointed out that she had feelings for him, as if that weren't obvious, but he did not say anything to mock her. Rather he opened his eyes again and looked at her appraisingly. His expression suddenly serious, reserved, contemplative. His aura in the force condensed, growing sharper. He raised his head high and regarded her with a steely gaze as the force seemed to ripple around him, the air bending and twisting like a heat haze. "Once you start down this path there is no going back, there are no half-measures in the force. Light or Dark. You know this," He warned her, "It can be done step by step, but eventually the process must be completed, lest you lose your mind. You master this art or you collapse under its weight," He explained, not as her lover, but as the Sith Lord Darth Nwul Shasot'ari.

He turned his gaze away from her, looking at something invisible, far away, or perhaps in the future, "But you will be fine, I can see that much."

He let out a sigh, "Yes, you will be fine, that's good," He closed his eyes and nodded, easing the presence that he was broadcasting to the usual volume. He looked down at the ground for a moment, not making eye contact with her. "You've lived a life where choices have been taken from you, my love, endlessly. Here, you will have to make decisions on your own. I will not force you, I will not pressure you, and I will warn you with all due knowledge. It is up to you to take that final step," He quirked his lip and turned to look at her, there was some amusement there. He was not forcing her to make one decision or the other, but he was forcing her to make a decision. There was irony in that.

"But taking the force, your life, and your actions into your own hands, to take responsibility for yourself, and to face the galaxy under your own strength. That is the way of the Sith," He smiled softly at her, "Do you have the strength to tread that path?"

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

The way Nwul snorted at her admission had her gaze sharpening, but she quickly dropped the glare when he regarded her with stern intent. The pressure around them increased, the Sith Lord's ardent presence in the Force suddenly weighing heavier on her shoulders. Cora swallowed thickly; as much as she felt the urge to look away, she kept her focus on Nwul.

Even if she did appear to wither slightly, like a hothouse flower exposed to suddenly intensifying heat.

It took her a few moments to absorb his intent - he wasn't trying to intimidate her, even if there was a stark power imbalance between the two. No, Nwul fervently believed in his path, in his craft, and wanted to impress the significance of that upon her. He would do her no favors by underselling the danger in the Ritual of Reflection. If she was to be afforded a choice, she would be kept aware and informed.

Her expression shifted briefly into a look of confusion when he tuned his attention away. Fine? How did he know that she would be fine? How did he know what she was going to do in the first place?

The pressure around them suddenly decreased, and Cora let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"Does it really have to be so black and white, Nwul?" She asked softly.

Tentatively, she reached for his hand, placing her own atop his with caution.

"Until now, I've always known exactly who I was and who I was meant to be. When I…" Cora paused, knowing what she wanted to say but searching for the proper words. In the end, she would admit them plainly. "When I killed Horace, that was the end of my surety in life. My family and my home were no longer my own, the duty that guided me in life, stripped from me overnight."

Perhaps unintentionally, she squeezed his hand. Despite how Ukatis had rejected her, it was clear that her heart still resided on the agrarian world. On her people. On her family, on the eight younger siblings she would protect with her life.

"I accept that your methods may lead me down a darker path. I admire you for the compassion and care you've shown me when I was at my worst - and I'm appreciative of the kindness with which you've treated me now, given I am supposed to be your prisoner. But I cannot commit myself to the path of a Sith. Emotional regulation is one thing, but…"

Cora squinted into the middle distance. She'd witnessed Sith commit terrible atrocities, seen the scars they'd left on her Jedi comrades, watched the Dark siphon the life out of her homeland. She could never be one of them. She shook her head.

"My goal is not necessarily to use what I feel as fuel for my actions, but to understand and accept my feelings. To not let him live in my mind."

She paused, eyes cast towards the ground as a surge of shame rose, welled in the back of her throat like bile, then rested.

"I cannot be sure of my path until I understand myself."

Drawing in a heavy breath, Cora raised her head and regarded Nwul with a faint, genuine smile. Shoulders straight, head held level, she appeared less as a confused girl and a little more like a Princess.

"How does it work? What must I do?"

Darth Nwul