Private The Raven and the Cat

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Darth Malum of House Marr //:
//: Jutrand, Luxury Apartments //:
//: Attire //:

​

Moving was never something Quinn enjoyed.

Luckily for her, Gerwald had set her up with a good set of movers, mostly acolytes from the Jutrand Academy. She did have to constantly slap a few sticky fingers that were more interested in what was in the drawers than moving them. Once everything was settled in, she finished a few things. A damp towel ran over the countertops till they were polished and shined. Everyone else would be reporting to work in the morning. Quinn had the apartment to herself for the day and evening.

Having to do things on her own was, at times, nice. Too often, she was dependent on others to do small necessities for her. Today, though, she would have a bit of her autonomy and independence. Her gaze lingered in the foyer, where she had freshly picked roses arranged, filling the room with their sweet aroma. Their crimson petals opened further as she watched them. They were beautiful and something that she could watch forever.

Slowly, she walked over and cupped one of the large blossoms in her hands. Exhaling softly, her heart remembered the cool evenings of Eshan. Closing her eyes, Quinn could see the moon and stars above her as she wandered the palace gardens. The daydream relaxed her; more often, she dreamed of Eshan and her undying desire to go back. Quinn opened her eyes, only to see that the flowers had shifted color; the red faded into blue. Her hands fell as she sighed softly, smiling; it was that time of year to find her way back. Maybe her sister would find time to see her, Quinn doubted it, but one could dream.

She walked away from the arrangement; her footsteps matched the sudden appearance of a black cat. The feline padded gently around her feet, rubbing against her, showing his approval of the home. Quinn walked by the kitchen to grab the cup of tea she had brewed earlier. Fully prepared for a lazy afternoon, the Princess grabbed the latest Lady Velvet novel.

Quinn parked in front of the window visible from the front entrance. She liked the view of the cityscape of Jutrand, and the lighting was perfect for cozying up in the nook to read. Her eyes glanced again towards the door as something told her someone would visit soon. When nothing came, she patted her lap, and the black cat jumped and made itself comfortable. Sipping her tea, she smiled and sighed with contentment.

It was perfect.

It was at that moment that she became indulged in the steamiest part of the book. There was a ring at the door, and the guard allowed someone inside. Quinn didn't look up; she was too absorbed in the scandal of the main characters. She figured it was one of the movers or one of her ladies in waiting; there was no need to look up—just yet.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

He had learned of the move from Dromund Kaas through his spy network but had not said a word, even as a fondness blossomed forth. He was glad his... friend, was to finally depart the realm of Braxus Zambrano, though that she was taking up residence in the viper pit that was Jutrand, was perhaps not much better. Still, perhaps not much better, was still better, and considering her position, goddaughter to the Empress, she might have had a better run of things than most.

...Though considering rumours of a certain adoption, one which the Imperial couple and their Voices were frustratingly silent about, he was not entirely sure of her safety here in comparison to the Kainite fortress. Though even he had to admit, begrudgingly, she might not have been unsafe in Dromund Kaas in the traditional sense; it had been as she had told him so long ago back on Alvaria... she was considered a reminder, a memento, of the previous Empire, the previous Order, the Eighth, Ninth, and Tenth, the glory days of the Zambrano dynasty, even in the dips of their power and influence.

They would never let anything happen to their precious trinket...

...On the other hand, place her in a gilded cage? Marry her off to one of Kaine's spawnlings, to regain, to confirm their imperial prestige?

Suffice it to say, he was glad she was out from Dromund Kaas, least of all, because despite what real dangers she might have faced in this city world filled with vipers and snakes, he at least would be able to... watch over her. The stab of guilt echoed along his chest as he swept his feet ever forward, the black cloak billowing in his wake, as his long raven locks swayed through the breeze that burnished this building complex.

Still, even though he had learned of her impending departure from Dromund Kaas, he had said nothing, awaiting, impatiently at times admittedly, but waiting for the invitation to her abode. Once he had it, it had been a quick measure to cancel his plans for the evening and leave for the Imperial capital.

He nodded his head towards the guards at the doorway. They remained silent in their vigil, but he could imagine that beneath their helms, the glint of recognition was held most profoundly.

A Dark Councillor, the Lord of the Tsis'Kaar intended to meet their charge.

One of them moved to the doorbell, ringing it in alert for the Princess to be made aware of his presence, the sound was not a foul thing, indeed it was pleasant upon the hear if not for its vehemence. He raised his eyebrow beneath the mask ever slightly as he was not greeted by any servants. Perhaps... she had simply not hired them as of yet?

At the same time, gazing about the entrance room in which he passed, it seemed the furniture and fixings had been established... so at least someone was doing manual labour here.

...And for obvious reasons, he did not imagine the Princess of Eshan was one for such things.

His steps took him ever forward, as his eyes took in every fixture, it was nice, not lived in, not homey, but that would all come in time he imagined, it had the look of a place freshly constructed, which... in some sense, was the case he supposed. It was an open question of if Quinn would maintain that or make it more cozy.

A Princess could afford to take either path.

It was his nature to be quiet, such that his footfalls were catlike in how little noise they made, likely why not even Quinn herself had not come out to greet him... though with the bell ringing, he was unsure how...

...He came upon her, laying her head upon rest, and reading...

The skyline was beautiful he supposed...

...It was unfortunate, it did not distract him nearly enough from the beauty sitting before him, unnoticing of his presence, a cat upon her lap, reading...

He blinked.

He coughed into his hands, announcing his presence, before with as much of a straight face as possible, "...I had not realised you were a fan of such works, Lady Varanin," He uttered, fully wishing to witness the fireworks.

Quinn Varanin
Mentioned: Darth Carnifex Darth Prazutis Srina Talon Darth Empyrean

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Darth Malum of House Marr //:
//: Jutrand, Luxury Apartments //:
//: Attire //:

​

Tranquility was filled with salacious words as Quinn hung off every word the woman wrote. Her face flushed slightly, giving away the parts of the novel she had come across. Tenebris carefully flicked his tail as it hung off her side, wrapping around her slender waist as he kneaded at the loose shirt's fabric. This was his perfect afternoon until he noticed a figure moving carefully through and watching his master. Two pointed ears flattened as the masked man drew closer.

Quinn remained unaware, keeping the pull of their connection at bay with the risqué tome in front of her. It wasn't until the black cat stood up, arching its back and giving Malum a hiss, that drew the Princess' attention. The book quickly closed and shoved between her and the curved cushion of the small window bench and pillows she sat on.

Clearing her throat, she did her best to comfort the cat in her lap. "Hello," Quinn started as she brushed back the falling strands of her hair behind her ears. The cat began to settle as she continued, "Like his Master, he's not a fan of masks." she jested as the cat curled in her lap. Still, his ears remained flat, and bright orange eyes locked on the Tsis'Kaar leader. "I can't believe you came to visit me wearing that thing; you know how much I hate it." She laughed and picked up the black cat, cradling him gently like a newborn.

Slowly, the Princess stood and wandered towards the man. Remembering briefly how the mask was removed, she ran her fingers gently in the way she had seen - and removed it, placing it on the countertop behind him. "Not so hard to show your face; it's a nice face, isn't it, Tenebris." The girl cooed to her cat, showing her an affection she rarely gave anyone. Orange eyes watched with an intelligence beyond typical felines and then looked back at his master. Gentle purrs vibrated its small body, but its fierce anger for the masked man remained.

Quinn sighed and held the creature, "He'll warm up to you eventually; he's quite stubborn, especially around men. Though I don't think he's ever warmed up to Lord Lechner, I'm sure there's an obvious reason." Quinn chuckled again. Remembering his initial words to her. "As for what I was reading," Again, the flush from the previous deepened as she laughed slightly nervously. Her ventures into Lady Velvet were typically done in private, and to be caught, especially by Malum, put her in a situation.

"Well, um - they're really beautiful works of art, and like," she struggled to avoid a stutter or string her words together. He had flustered her, catching her with the scandalous book. An odd determination washed over her as she looked at the mask and then back to the man. "Well - the people in the book are attractive, and y-you could really learn a thing or two from them, Lord Marr." The cat looked up at her, a paw resting on the bottom of her chin, knowing she had lost this conversation. In a sense of embarrassment, Tenebris flopped out of her hands and wandered the countertop towards the mask. He pawed at it curiously and slowly inched it towards the end of the counter - hoping to rid everyone of it, saving the galaxy.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

He raised an eyebrow, there was part of him lifted with pride, there was something innate to the Sith that caused them to distrust, it was no real mystery by his reckoning, but it made for personal relationships to always have some measure of... restraint. It was not what he would have preferred, but it was long what he had accepted to simply be reality.

So it was to his pride that despite the bond they shared, both metaphorical and very real, he still held the ability to sneak upon her. That despite that which the Force had cursed upon them, a bond that he so cared for... dirtied by the hand of Fate and Destiny, as if he needed their blessing as if he trusted their will and what they had in store for the future...

...It was pride, that within him still held the capability to defy the Force.

...And... to see her like this was...

...A rare treat.

He stood smiling beneath the mask as the feline companion of Qui- the Princess hissed up at him, the book hidden away in the depths of sheets and pillows, their material, their make, to be the exact configuration that he would have imagined for a Princess of her station, their colour vibrant, and even with sight alone he could imagine their softness.

The feline was putty in her hands, gentle caresses as jet-black hairs flicked away, making the cat calm from its snarl. Though those intelligent orange eyes ever kept their eyes upon him, distrustful, cautious, perhaps even paranoid.

All in all, the cat ingratiated itself to the young Scion of House Marr, it reminded him of himself.

Perhaps that was not too surprising, after all, using one's unseen eyes, it was obvious enough that the feline was no normal cat... his vision narrowed at the realisation, gazing upon the handsome creature...

The first hint was the connection already formed despite not ever meeting the creature, the second was the fact there was a connection at all with an animal of all things, and the third... the familiarity which seemed to swell out from the creature, a sense of sameness in fact shared with the only other person in the room...

A familiar, how quaint.

"Greetings, Your Majesty," Malum offered with a gentle incline of his head, in many regards he did reckon he outranked the Princess, when it came to pure rank, he was a King, a governor of three worlds within the Empire, while her, a Princess of a world far out of the reckoning of the Empire, then of course that he was a Dark Councillor, while her... of no official position within the Empire. Of course, there were more nuances involved in such things, she was a daughter of a once Empress of another Sith Empire, the goddaughter of another, even if only a consort...

...Though when it came to Srina Talon, she could hardly be described as 'only' anything.

Then, of course, those rumours of an adoption which he could not lend credence to apart from noting the possibility...

Still in the end it was actually none of these which had him calling her by such a lofty title, it was something perhaps far more boring... reflex, and perhaps the most soft hint of teasing.

He blinked as her words wafted over the air, a voice that was as ever enchanting and made him... juxtapositionally comfortable and uncomfortable, words which he almost missed, "Remind me to not take you to a masquerade then," He answered with the wink of humour that was fast becoming his... a humour to be appreciated in the mind, rather than raucously laughed at.

...After all, there was fast becoming little and little else to laugh about. The sobering thought was snapped away at the rest of her masqueraded comments, tilting his head in mock challenge, her laughter... her laughter, had his heart miss a beat.

"Do you not like my forefather's face?" He returned coyly, "This is a face that over four thousand years ago brought terror to the hearts of the Republic, and now four thousand years hence, it brings horror to the hearts of the Alliance." If only their advance was not so slow... but be it the strength of their walls, or the weakness of their own trebuchets, the defences had not been breached. Fondor, lay still far away, to not even speak of Coruscant.

...In the end, he supposed, not even Darth Marr had achieved his triumph.

Was it not hubris for his successor to imagine that he could surpass the ancestor?

She cradled the cat as easily as one would cradle a babe, the rouge thought stilling his thoughts for barest moment, red eyes flickering in the imagination of an idea that he had not thought of... he idly wondered if Quinn had ever thought of such possibility...

...She would make a good mother he decided.

A better mother than the father he had turned out to be, he would leave for Kara's parent's house, after this meeting, he quickly decided... duty to all which remained outside of the walls of that house, meant nothing to the duty which he had for them. His Caelia... his Aureus... his darling children, that since their very births... he had been too distant from.

The thoughts snapped away as he noticed she was right in front of him, her face ever so... a hiss and a click had the mask break its hold upon his face, a light breeze kissing his face, as raven locks swayed in their caress, framing the ever noble face that had broken as many hearts as they had swelled, an aquiline nose, a thin-lipped smile, and red eyes glimmering with the magnificence of rubies. All facing one whom... words might have not done justice, her hair was the opposite of his in two equal measures, short where his was long, a platinum white, that shimmered under the Sun's rays, where his was as dark as the quotidian night, a face that... one could not help but stop to admire, a face that drew one's breath as easily as it made one forget to breathe. The nose lay resplendent in the centre, held betwixt two eyes... eyes that held him prisoner, wherein his shown with the heat of wildfire, hers... the cool embers still threatened to alight.

"..." Words were meant to be spoken, words were meant to be said, but instead, he simply... watched, watched as she cooed her cat, he had... never seen her like this. He blinked a moment sooner than he should have, like a camera shuttering its aegis, he committed this sight to his memory, a sight that he disallowed himself to forget.

"...Yes, I imagine those of the feline persuasion do not much appreciate those infected with... lupus." He japed, but of his two co-Dark Councillors, strangely enough despite the fact he was a repented traitor, he far preferred the Emperor's Wrath to the Mother of Monsters.

His eyes were overtaken with a glimmer of mirth as her words began to run over themselves as they tried to escape her mouth, his face remaining ever still, simply watching, a smile upon his face growing ever firmer as the excuses grew, as the stammer, and the flush grew deeper.

The cat's escape out of her arms provided him with the perfect opportunity, as her challenge rang in his ears, taking a step forward, one hand fell forward, gently, twirling one of the platinum locks between his fingers, as he parted the rogue strands of hair from covering the eyes he was so mystified by, another step forward, as he leaned closer, memories filling his mind of Bastion, but for once... they were good memories, as his other hand fell to her cheek, a soft caress, as his eyes bore into hers... looking for...

...Something...

"Oh really? What is it that you would like me to learn from them, Your Majesty?~" His whisper was husky on his tongue, as the breaths sultry as they wafted across her face.

That the feline went for his mask, the great crash, a cacophony as it reached the ground, barely registering.

As he lost himself in her.

Quinn Varanin
Mentioned: Gerwald Lechner Taeli Raaf Srina Talon

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Darth Malum of House Marr //:
//: Jutrand, Luxury Apartments //:
//: Attire //:

​

As soon as the cat had fallen from her arms, Quinn looked towards Malum, who had already closed the distance between them. Her face still flushed from him catching her reading the publications of Lady Velvet. His fingers threaded through a stray strand of her ashen hair, and the same hand soon cupped her cheek. Their eyes met, and she could quickly tell where his mind was going. It was in his touch, the way his face froze, when she removed the mask. His mind was where they had shared a moment, one driven by another heartbreak.

On Bastion, he had been the pinnacle of a gentleman. One that she, at that time, could have easily fallen for. She had fallen for him, but his affections belonged to another, and she was betrothed.

While he remembered Bastion, Quinn only thought of Naboo.

Quinn smiled softly as she let his hand remain on her cheek. He teased her about her books once more. Rising up to her words, he questioned, trying to get a response from her. She sighed gently and laughed while her hand rested against his, gently pulling it from her face. Quinn kept the Councillor's hand in hers as she shook her head. "You know, if you read the books, you'd be able to figure out what I'm talking about," She stopped. There was more the Princess could tease him about, but nothing felt right. Their banter had always been something Quinn looked forward to, but all she could remember was that feeling of annoyance.

Her gaze fell for a moment as she looked down at his hand. Despite being a noble, she still hadn't noticed some callouses. Her thumb caressed over the roughness of his knuckles; he had been in combat, a warrior for the Empire while also being a political figure. It reminded her of home; warriors also stood in places to make crucial decisions. The women who led were strong and smart, things that Quinn often doubted within herself.

"I'm happy you're here, " she started, her voice soft. Quinn was reserved, almost nervous about the subject she wanted to ask. Her brow furrowed slightly as she squeezed his hand, searching for a semblance of comfort.

"I'm confused. Did I do something wrong? Have I done something to offend you? I like to think our friendship is important enough that we could talk to each other if something happened." The words poured from her lips the moment she started. Her eyes continued to look past him or at the ground as she questioned him.

"I just, at that party on Naboo - I felt you were upset. I worried about you, and when I had gone over to try and cheer you up," she sighed softly and finally looked at him, the confusion and sadness welling in her eyes. The words he had said continued to repeat themselves in her mind—words said when she was devastated.

"Why do I annoy you?"​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

There was a warmth to her cheeks that were shared by her eyes, it was most often the most innocuous of traits which drew his attention to those which he shared such proximity with. With Adeline it had been the marriage of apathy and ferocity that had seemed to be embedded into her stance, the other simply waiting for the other to allow it to make purchase. With Elsie... with Elsie it had been the callouses of her hand, the light paint of dust and dirt on her face that seemed all too naturally placed, that she so happily weathered. For Kara... well... for Kara it had always been her eyes, had it not?

For Qui-... for the Princess?

Her smile, was as radiant as the stars, yet, as rare as rubies.

He flicked his eyes to follow hers, as they possessed his hand with her warmth, plucking it from its place by her cheek, to instead surround it within her embrace.

He would never confess to have read the books of which she had referred, "...Alas, I have always been one more to play out my own story of dalliance, drama, and... love, than read some book on the topic." It was the moment, after making such obvious, ardent, confession, that he should have leaned forward.

Instead, he hesistated, with her, he always hesistated.

Her gaze fell from his, as a shiver ran down his spine, petite hands thumbed over his knuckles, testing once soft noble hands, that had been battered raw by the demands of which they were... Sith. Always Sith first, nobles second. It was an... odd silence, neither comfortable nor awkward, as they simply basked in each other's company.

There were few opportunities to do so, she taught at Jutrand, all the while being Princess.

All the while him? The less time he spent on Jutrand the better.

Even as... so many that he loved resided on the planet he had been born, the planet that he called home.

"I am happy to be here, Your Majesty," Malum opined softly, curiosity whisking at the tone of voice she used, the thoughts which hid behind those emerald eyes flecked with hazel, his fingers tensed as she squeezed, surprise answered with a near instinctive squeeze in reply. She had never...

...Had she ever held his hand like this?

The quandry went unanswered, as his eyes widened ever slightly as the words began to pour out of the Prin- out of Quinn's mouth, she refused to look into his eyes, as she spoke more and more, a dawning realisation from the pit of his heart, had she... had she... been so affected by what had happened on Naboo?

...He had thought, she would be too inebriated to remember... she had left so quickly...

Back into the arms of so many, so many that held no compuction in offering her comfort, all the while he was alone...

...Held no compunction in offering her comfort, comfort that he had never been able to provide....

She gazed up at him, eyes watery, his breath stolen, his chest laid heavy with the conflicting feelings that whirled within a man as a woman looked at him like... that. Crying women... it was always crying women, that which tears he caused, that so often had him paralysed, not knowing, not knowing what possibly he could do...

His weakness had always been sobbing women.

The hand by her hair dropped down, as he swallowed the protrusion by his throat, bobbing like an apple at a summer's fair, as the sweat gleaned off his forehead, his mouth... his throat, so dry. Fingers caught the droplets of salty tears, as they threatened to flow liberally down. What could he say? What words could he possibly say that which would be able to solve that which had brought her to such depths of sombriety?

No words, was the answer... no words possibly could... but he was never one to believe in his own limits.

"...You did nothing wrong... You have done nothing to offend me... You do not annoy me." The words were firm as they left his lips, his hand in her grip, tightening a squeeze that echoed his words, as the arm attached to the hand that captured the moisture, were quick to wrap themselves around her shoulder, pulling her in for an embrace, one which felt...

Right, but ever so awkward, one hand taken, so alien to hugs...

It was time that he confronted that which he had denied for so long.

"...Naboo... Naboo does not hold good memories for me... loves had and loves lost... I should never have gone to that event, I never imagined it would strike me so viscerally..." He pulled away, the warmth he so enjoyed, giving way to the distance required to gaze into those green depths that oh so easily had stolen his breath away on so many different occasions.

"...I am sorry for hurting you, Quinn, that was the farthest idea from my intention, I simply... needed to be away." Away, because the dagger to his heart may have already been placed, but he had never thought it would twist. Never thought, that one would apply salt to that most grevious of injuries.

He gazed upon those soft lips, Bastion seemed a distant memory now... and he supposed...

...He supposed it was.

If words failed him, there was still action, one action that still availed of him to not only tell her... but to show her, all that which could not be said. All that which words had failed him to say.

Bastion had so... taken him.

But on Susevfi... it had not been him to triumph...

...He had failed her.

And her eyes had looked to another.

...Her eyes had looked to another on Naboo as well...

...He had fled, rather than turning tail to say something, to say anything, to do what a better man would have done, to fight, to die, if required, for all that he had known of this feeling, this wellspring that so nourished him, yet choked him, was that he would sacrifice himself whole for it.

But instead, he left, fading away into darkness.

For it was already too late...

...He had failed... he was always too late.

In the end, now here lay opportunity, one more chance to forge away the mistakes of the past, to try once more, to give into that which felt so right in his chest, even if hesistance had cost him, even if fear strayed close by his eardrums, if he could do this now, simply lean forward, show her how he truly felt, then maybe...

...Then maybe...

...He leaned forward, his heartbeating deep rumblings in his chest, as he felt the blood begin to pool in his ears. The moment of truth, the moment wherein bravery would meet fear, wherein resolve would meet hesistance, wherein certainty would meet doubt.

His lips met her forehead.

She had made her choice.

...And he supposed, he had too.

Quinn Varanin
Mentioned: Kaila Irons Kirie