Private the past is like a cape, you can only wear it behind you

[Ariana du Couteau]

Ariana du Couteau, Jedi Padawan
Location: Atrisia
Outfit

Ariana watched the slow-moving river as it pooled into the pond, its ripples gently carrying away petals and leaves. The bench she sat on offered a perfect view of the pond, and she felt a small sense of pride at having managed to secure such a spot. She closed her eyes and began to steady her breathing, a meditative technique meant to deepen her connection to the living Force that surrounded her.

It was a simple idea, but the challenge lay in the execution, something Ariana had never truly mastered. She imagined herself swaying like the petal floating in the river before her. Tension crept into her shoulders as she worried about being pulled into the dark depths of the water.

Wait, let’s try something different. Her face crunched in thought as she abandoned the attempt to visualize herself as part of the natural scene before her. Her father had once suggested another meditation technique, and so Ariana tried to relax once more.

The folds of the cape had to be squared perfectly, and with a patient, well-practiced hand, Ariana managed it. Next came the unfolding of the fabric, ensuring not a single crease remained, wrinkles were a sign of poor attention and lack of discipline. Her brow furrowed, eyes shut tight, lips pressed into a grimace of concentration.

“Okay, I’ll work on that later,” she muttered. How people managed to sit calmly with their thoughts was still a mystery to the young du Couteau.

She looked beside her at the small rectangular box and gently placed her hand on top of it.

Atrisia was a beautiful world to visit and explore a home away from home, her brother would say whenever they arrived. But the true peace came from the people she had traveled with to the Hirata Enclave. They had shown her a renewed sense of what it meant to be a Jedi, and in them, Ariana had glimpsed the vision of hope she had so desperately needed to see for herself.

At least I’m no longer that anxious before my meeting. Small victories were more easily cherished and to hold with two hands.
​

|| Henna Ashina ||​

 

[Henna Ashina]

The invitation was promising. Henna had been thrilled to receive Ariana on Atrisia. Seto had always been held in her utmost regard; Some part of her believed he might have even supported their cause today, were he here to bear witness. Nobility - royalty, even, and Jedi lordship were not mutually exclusive. The Ashinas were testament to that. Even more than her contributions to their cause, she was proud of the Jedi for requesting her presence. Since her arrival, she'd seemed... troubled. Anxious, perhaps. Henna had thought it would fade with time, as it did for most new arrivals when they found their place amongst the crusade. Not so for Ariana - though her voice at the midnight council was a start.

She chose robes of cream and gold. Representative of her status as a Jedi, not that of a ruler. As Henna departed the manor, she was glad the padawan had chosen a spot outside. With their war and her seership, she barely got to spend time in the nature she loved. Across the pond, blossoms were in bloom - just as they. Approaching quietly, she greeted Ariana with a nod.

"Hello, Ariana. A fine view you've chosen." Golden orbs flickered between the Tetan and the pond. "I've been meaning to give you a proper welcoming, anyways, just the two of us. My apologies you had to summon me instead. It is... unusually busy, as you've seen." Henna motioned to the empty seat beside Ariana. "May I?"

 

[Ariana du Couteau]

Ariana du Couteau, Jedi Padawan
Location: Atrisia
Outfit

“Yes, there’s a certain serenity here. . .” Ariana spoke with a hint of aloofness as she slowly turned her attention to Henna.

A moment of realization passed, and with widened eyes, Ariana nearly jumped to her feet and offered a proper bow. Her cheeks warmed into a soft red as she slowly straightened.

“O-o-of course, plenty of room here!” Ariana tried to smile away her embarrassment as she gestured to the bench. “And no apology needed, the galaxy never follows anyone's schedule. . .” she added quickly, sitting back down, a flicker of fear in her mind that her legs might give way.

“If anything, it should be me apologizing to you, Lady Ashina. . . I’ve not exactly been an exemplar of noble ideals or determination. So I thank you for bearing with me as I continue to walk with trembling legs, as if I were just newly born,” Ariana said, her tone apologetic and laced with anxiety.

The young du Couteau heiress breathed deeply to calm herself. Her shoulders had tensed, but after a moment, they relaxed too. Confidence was a fickle sensation for Ariana, who struggled to remain upright and steady, representing both Tetan nobility and her family name before someone who deserved true respect and excellence.

“But I’m sure you don’t want to hear me complain,” Ariana said, waving her hand to dismiss her earlier words. “I wanted to give you, albeit belatedly, a gift, to show both the appreciation and commitment of House du Couteau.”

Ariana held up a box with both hands. Inside was a cape similar to the one she wore herself. The differences lay in the gold trimmings attached to each point, and the interior dyed a darker, deep-sea blue shimmered with small flecks of light that; when caught just right, resembled a starry night sky. She knew how difficult it was to part with it, gripping the box firmly, but the cape had always been intended as a gift. The difficult was always that both du Couteau children felt unworthy to present them, as if a thief who stole what wasn't theirs's to give away.

It even has that silly instruction page dad insisted on including.

“This whole nobility and Jedi duty thing has me both scared and confused, so I also want to thank you for accepting me all the same.” She had originally intended to arrive as just a soldier, following orders to attack.

Anything more, and she felt like a lost child at a festival.
​

|| Henna Ashina ||​

 

[Henna Ashina]

Before accepting the seat, Henna took up the box gingerly when offered. A finger trailer across the lip before opening it - anticipation finely rewarded when she did. The fabric was beautiful. Midnight, and holding all the stars in the sky. Only something a Tetan could acquire, their tastes unmatched. With a delighted smile, Henna took up the instruction panel, folded it as shown, and with furnish, threw it around her. Careful hands made sure to button the clasp and smooth any crevices.

"It is beautiful, Ariana. Truly. Thank you."

The master offered a short bow in return. It was still uncustomary at Hirata, but there were equals amongst her both in blood and rank. Still, the gesture felt too... distant for such an intimate gift. For a moment, Henna considered hugging the girl, then decided that may just set her in shakes after she had worked up all this courage to be here. Instead, she finally drifted to join her place on the bench.

"You do not have to apologize for your fear. I know this is all very.. new. Some of it goes against what we have been taught as Jedi after the Ruusan Reformation."

Conflict played across her brow a moment. In her youth, she had to make her own choices about where her loyalties had lay. This way of life was not even an option at that time.

"Tell me what it is that troubles you about it all. Maybe I can assist with making sense of it."

 

[Ariana du Couteau]

Ariana du Couteau, Jedi Padawan
Location: Atrisia
Outfit

Ariana smiled sheepishly, her mouth hidden behind her hands, which clapped together in a quiet celebration as Henna placed the cape over her shoulders. An embarrassed thought crept into her mind, perhaps I should have assisted. There were so many traditions and proper noble decorum to follow, but keeping track of them all had proven difficult. She simply hoped that knowing the bare essentials would see her through without too many diplomatic incidents.

“It’s as you say, the reformations in this ever-changing galaxy have me afraid um… worried.” Ariana uttered the words without a second thought.

She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her attention to the pond as she sat down on the bench. It was too much to begin a conversation with well-practiced and carefully reasoned questions about reformations. Settle yourself, Ari. She inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, and let her cybernetic hand gently cover her gloved one, holding it steady.

“I’m not good with expectations… or rather, I’m not good at seeing myself meet them.”

A bit more truth slipped past the careful mask of well-crafted nobility. A porcelain doll, such a description fit her in more ways than one and Ariana always tried to keep herself free of cracks. She had no better idea of how to face her obligations, duties, and expectations in this vast galaxy.

“My dad would tell us we never had to think about the expectations of the galaxy. That to him we were already everything we ever needed to be: his children.” Her tone softened, and her real hand slipped free of her cybernetic one, crossing over her chest to gently hold the corner of the cape draped across her shoulder. “I guess… what troubles me the most is what happens when I can’t meet any expectation and just keep failing?”

Ariana had often heard that parents could harm their children in one way or another, but she always thanked her father for making her feel so light, free of worries and cares. Now though the cape that had once belonged to him rested on her shoulders not as a warm embrace from one forever lost to the Force, but acted as a suffocating weight that Ariana questioned if she had the right to wear. The 'What If's' began to fill her mind, clouded with regret as it rained down constant possible futures that could never happen.

Maybe everything could have turned out alright if he lived. . . .
​

|| Henna Ashina ||​

 

[Henna Ashina]

Watching the girl side long, Henna grimaced at the revelation of self-disappointment. Ariana reminded her of a blade half tempered, hammer laid aside before the job was finished. Sol Dara had come to her in a similar state. The loss of a parent was greater, though, than the loss of a master, but the horrors of war carried on long after the battle was done. An open hand extended to lay on the bench between the pair; an offering.

"Are those expectations of yourself fair? Would your father deem them so?"

Henna was already trying to reason those out. Nobility, the formation, and the unrest across the galaxy. It all connected, somehow. Something Ariana couldn't bring herself to be direct about. The master did not share the same qualms, and perhaps making herself more relatable might coax the young woman.

"You probably don't know - most people who live outside Hirata do not - but I was born a noble, as well. Trained a Jedi to advise the courts. I cast my family name aside when I was called to wayseek. Then I joined the New Jedi, where I met Inosuke, and denied him my hand three times before I accepted because I saw it as a failure of my duty - guarding Tython, counseling the order - to lay it aside and take up a new mantle. All of this to say those expectations of myself were not fair, nor kind, to either of us."

 

[Ariana du Couteau]

Ariana du Couteau, Jedi Padawan
Location: Atrisia
Outfit

What would her father say?

Ariana didn’t have to wonder long. In her mind, he appeared exactly as always; held together by vanity and pride, smiling that perfectly reassuring smile that said you've always met my expectations little Ari. Words quickly echoed in her head, “find the right metric to measure yourself, look in the mirror, see that your outfit alone proved you’ve reached any expectation”. A faint smile tugged at her lips. She wanted to laugh.

She also wanted to punch him.

Oh, how she wanted to punch him. No better way to relieve stress than to take a swing at the man who’d given her the single greatest burden of her life, the family name.

“Casting your family name away, and nearly love? You carry yourself with such certainty and grace, I find it difficult to imagine you as anything less than a perfect noble, Jedi, or parent,” Ariana said, turning to face Lady Ashina. “The idea of being a failure is the lynchpin in the corrosiveness of fear . . . ” The words came out like a lecture she’d heard one too many times.

Huh. Guess I can remember old lessons after all.

She looked down. Both hands were clenched into fists, but only the non-cybernetic one had knuckles turning white. She forced them to relax, then a thought struck her, sharp and sudden. With a small laugh, Ariana tipped her head back to catch the sky for a moment. Eureka moments didn’t visit her often, but when they did, they had the decency to feel overly dramatic. Much like how her father taught her how to flare her cape with the Force.

“When I was little, back when I’d just discovered my Force abilities, the idea of becoming a Jedi sat at the top of my list. Naturally, I demanded to learn lightsaber combat,” she began, her voice wistful.

“My first month of training was… catastrophic. Horrific even. Toward the end, I asked my father; Are all Jedi expected to have competent swordsmanship? He told me, ‘A Jedi’s swordsmanship is their own choice. You can always just keep punching until you can’t . . . and then, you punch harder to break through.’” Ariana shook her head slowly, as if still trying to process that advice years later.

“It’s absurd, like when he would read me a story and I’d fall asleep halfway through. Then I’d wake up in a panic about how it ended, only to find the book and discover the last pages were completely blank.” She sighed, bending forward to hold her head in both hands, as though physically containing any further outbursts.

“Do you ever have the urge to do something utterly unacceptable to someone, something you know will never happen?” she asked, coughing the words out as her cool du Couteau façade crumbled to dust. “For me . . . I can’t imagine punching a Force ghost going over particularly well.” She half-muttered the last bit.

Utterly shameful, Ari.

“I must look pathetic.” Ariana wanted to apologize but felt it would only added further insult to injury.
​

|| Henna Ashina ||​

 

[Henna Ashina]

"No, you don't." Henna assured diligently. "Though I'd have to agree, punching a ghost is not the best idea. And funnily enough.... I have considered it myself."

Henna cracked a smile at the thought, remembering her visit to the Tetan wilds and the argument with her master. She had been twice Ariana's age and still had a moment of doubt.

"To feel is to be human. The anger, the shame, the trepidation... all natural. To be a Jedi, though, they must not control you. You acknowledge them and let them pass. Acceptance."

Rising from the bench, Henna walked the few feet to stand at the edge of the water. It moved with the breeze, ripples falling over the dark surface to kiss the shoreline. A turtle joined her in observation from a nearby branch.

"To be a noble is more difficult. Your experiences inform you, guide you. There is so much inherited power that it can be stifling. A constant internal analysis as to whether you have best used that power best." Squatting, her hand trailed the top of the pond, sending ripples through. "I often found myself wrapped up in it in a previous life. Ashina has changed me. Hesitation is defeat."

A knowing gaze found the Tetan again.

"You must forgive your father. I do not say that to further add to your discomfort, Ariana. But it serves neither of your purposes to hold on to it. You must accept and wield what he has bestowed upon you."

 

[Ariana du Couteau]

Ariana du Couteau, Jedi Padawan
Location: Atrisia
Outfit

Ariana cracked a smile and giggled at the idea of punching an ethereal being. The absurd nature of the Force often led its practitioners to imagine the unimaginable. The young du Couteau heiress wondered for a brief moment if Lady Ashina had actually succeeded, but she kept the thought from forming into an actual question. It felt a bit too childish to ask, considering what had just been spoken between the two.

Emotions such as hatred and embarrassment were difficult to accept. Even with proper training, it was never a simple task. But Ariana had nurtured her ability to meditate on the living Force; it flowed naturally, like the river before them. The storm of powerful emotions threatened the tranquility of the pond where the river pooled, but just as Ariana could manipulate the Force in the physical realm, she could also calm whatever threatened her inner peace or at least continue her attempts to find enough calm and serenity.

“Everything is easier said than done,” she muttered quietly as she raised her head from the crook of her arm, where it had sought refuge. Ariana knew when she needed to face her struggles. Hiding away would do her no good.

The weight of Nobility was something else entirely. If the Force was alive and flowed freely, Nobility was as unyielding as tempered steel. And just like any piece of steel, reshaping it required the heat of an intense fire to soften the metal, followed by the strength to wield the hammer. The bladesmiths of old were beings of great skill and talent. Their ability to shape metal was, in its own way, like breathing life into something that had none.

But

At the end of those intense emotional flames of anger, shame, or fear that the metal blade still needed to be quenched to harden again. Only a blade with a tempered edge could call itself a true blade. But quenching required a rapid cooling, a force strong enough to draw out all the heat. Could she find the strength to let forgiveness cool her fire and take it all away?

Yes

“Perhaps it’s no real surprise, but I see the truth so blindingly in your words that I have to look away,” Ariana said as she slowly stood and walked to Lady Ashina’s side. Her eyes cast downward toward the river and pond before them. Maybe she should have remained back in her arm bunker that covered and braced her head.

“He taught me how to wear my cape before I even learned to speak,” Ariana said with a smile. “He put so much importance into it, as if it were something I was born to wear. Like any of my duties as a Noble. I suppose they remind me how light those duties can feel upon my shoulders.” She shook her head with a small laugh.

Ariana smiled again and looked up at Lady Ashina with a firm nod of understanding.

“Oh, I’m not sure what to do with everything he bestowed upon me. He even taught me a Force ability that allows for dramatic cape flares without the need for wind. . .” A deep sigh escaped her lips. "Dramatic entrances are important my little Ari!"

“Do you think it’s possible to succeed in punching a ghost?”
​

|| Henna Ashina ||​

 

[Henna Ashina]

"Perhaps you can teach me that trick?" Henna asked.

A glance at her cape proved the thought enticing - to master the flair of the royal house. The symbolism struck her, realizing how deeply the gift had been tied to their conversation. It was more than novelty. More than gratitude. A representation of their shared burden, cast upon them by destiny. Perhaps she ought to have a kimono commissioned in return.

"No, I do not think it is possible. They are one with the force now. It would be like attempting to punch air. Not the kind of lightness you want when channeling anger." Henna smiled, another memory of Kona enduring. "More vexxing, perhaps, is their ability to thwack you despite remaining out of your reach. I'm sure there is a metaphor to be found there."

She rose again, to level with Ariana, placing a palm flat against her back to reassure the padwan.

"Do you remember, did you have to grow used to wearing a cape?"

Perhaps familiarity with both it and Ariana's duty would come in time.

 

[Ariana du Couteau]

Ariana du Couteau, Jedi Padawan
Location: Atrisia
Outfit

"Perhaps you can teach me that trick?"

“R-really?”

Ariana was a tad flustered at the prospect of teaching anything to anyone, but to Lady Ashina? That was a whole step above. Was she being serious, or was this some sort of elaborate joke meant to calm her down? She continued to listen as Lady Ashina explained the rather uncomfortable reality of what separated true beings of the Force from those who merely wielded its power.

There were always metaphors and analogies. Surely there was a story told by the Order’s Masters that would have been quaint to go over.

The moment Henna placed her hand against Ariana’s back, the young du Couteau heiress wanted to freeze up. Instead, she relaxed into the offered support and thought about the question asked of her. It wasn’t difficult to answer, but she couldn’t help recalling a moment when failure had appeared in her life. Change was difficult, as was breaking old habits and Ariana had discovered her weakness again.

“Yes,” Ariana nodded.

“It was explained to me that the Force binds all things, living and not. So I was asked to imagine how a cape would act if it were alive. Would it flap and flare in the wind to showcase the importance of the wearer’s worthiness?” Ariana smiled softly, remembering the lesson.

“I was helped by picturing what I wanted the Force to enact by constantly running around and finding incredibly windy areas as a child. Never once did my cape leave my shoulders. It always wanted to be lifted up, yet never weighed me down or became a burden. . . only a reminder of my importance.”

Ariana’s cheeks grew slightly red as she hoped her explanation was sufficient. She had never taught anyone anything before. Really, I can be rather obtuse about these sorts of things.

“Such an ability takes some concentration, and I haven’t had much reason to practice lately,” Ariana explained as she turned to look at Lady Ashina. “But it’s as you say about acceptance, and the continuous self-examination of our duty to the power given to us. . .”

Even when weaknesses were found, they would continue to hinder until change was enacted. Ariana was determined to grow stronger and overcome them, even if she needed to piece back together the broken parts of herself.

“I’m not sure if teaching you will be a satisfactory repayment for the hope you’ve given me, but just as the value of gifts is often determined by those who receive them, I shall leave the balancing of the scale in your hands, Lady Ashina, as I stand ready to set the scales between us as close to equal as I possibly can if I’m ever found lacking.”

While her voice had regained much of its formality and proper Tetan decorum suitable for any noble, Ariana hardly found the strength to move away from Henna’s hand against her back.
​

|| Henna Ashina ||​