The Tallest Tower

[Darth Metus]

The Mason Estate, Imerria

Only once before had the Mandalorian graced the hallowed grounds of the Archon's personal estate with his presence. Under the cover of darkness, he and his bride-to-be made the voyage in order to seek out his one, and only, friend's blessing...and also for her to see how much of a changed man he had become. No longer was he the same mercenary who followed her into battle; but he had matured into what would make an excellent husband and an even better father. Now, many months into the future, Isley Verd made his return to the estate; once more under the cover of evening. His footsteps were silent against the cobbled stone as he calmly strode along the pathway to the gates. With each step, the literal castle slowly but surely became clearer in his view. The vast majority of the structure's windows were dark or dimly lit, a reflection of the hour...but only a single window was fully illuminated. Typical of nobility...always making ya climb to the top. he mused as his fingertips slid to his belt. There hung a cloaking device that, upon the lightest of touches, resulted in his literal disappearance from view. Scanners and eyes alike would not be able to see him...but to the Force, he stuck out like a sore thumb.

With a jog, the Mandalorian took the first wall; leaping forward and scrambling over as silently as possible. Then, the grappling hook affixed to his utility belt provided him just enough oomph to make the leap from wall to wall. It was nothing short of difficult to find a decent handhold, but once situated upon the castle's wall, Isley began to climb. Typically, such an ascent would be characterized by the clatter of beskar plating...but for this evening, Isley wore something quite out of the ordinary: namely his Terentatek Vest, simple boots and pants, and no sleeves which exposed his forearms. This afforded him relative quiet as he scaled the wall; a feat that took only a few minutes to accomplish. Upon reaching the window sill, Isley pulled himself up and half-admitted himself within; taking a seat upon the sill. With a small expression of amusement upon his face, the Mandalorian then took stock of the room. There was no one inside, which was good...as Keter would have opened fire on sight...but the light to the adjacent restroom was lit. Whistling lightly to announce his presence, Isley then spoke aloud. "I hope you don't mind that I came by Feena. Forgive the hour."

Spoiler

[member="Feena Mason"]

 

[Feena]

Feena was tired. Ridiculously tired. Tired to the point where she could not manage to keep her eyes open. And it was times like these, the rare moments of peace she managed to get, those moments when she had completed her work for the day, that she could curl up under a blanket by the fireplace and nap to her hearts content.
Keter was... out. He's been going out more and more. Not that she blamed him. The news she'd given him would have been hard to take. How was one expected to react when told their life partner was a dead woman walking? Never mind the death threats she'd received, or the attempted assassination.
Still... she needed him. He would be home soon, yes. He was never gone for long. But it didn't matter. Ket was still out there, and still after her head. And she was still sick. The last thing she wanted was to be alone.

As Isley slipped into the castle, droid guards patrolled outside. They had been built, unlike most droids, to withstand the harsh dust storms that often plagued Imerria. It was a harsh planet, hardly the place one would expect Feena to choose to live, but she was very happy here. This was her castle. Her own little kingdom.

"I hope you don't mind that I came by Feena. Forgive the hour."

Feenas eyelids snapped open instantly as she was shaken from her little nap on the sofa. She sat up at once, one hand reaching for the blaster under her pillow, the other moving to smooth her messy hair from her face. Once she realized who it was, she let go of the blaster and both hands were on her hair, trying to tame the black curls.

"Oh. It's you. I thought-" she stopped herself, eyeing the window, "Never mind. Thank you for testing out security. It seems we still have some work to do here."

The Archon suppressed a yawn, threw the blanket off of herself and stood up. She was hardly dressed for visitors, and she was hardly 'decent', wearing nothing but a thin blue nightgown. Still, at a certain point she stopped caring what Isley saw. He was one of the only friends she trusted, even if he did only ever come by when he wanted something from her. Speaking of which...

"So. What is it that you want?"

[member="Isley Verd"]

 

[Darth Metus]

The last time that the Mandalorian had laid eyes upon his dear friend, they stood across from one another in a chaotic council room. That day...threats were made, but for that small span of time, Isley was powerless to so much as utter a word. He just stood there, quite literally frozen within his armor; for that hell within the rear of his mind had decided to surface again. There was nothing but regret over his inability to so much as defend Feena...but having faced Ket in open combat before, Isley was confident in one thing. If he came seeking her head, Isley would fight...even to the last breath. These thoughts cluttered the Mandalorian's mind as he casually "sat" upon the windowsill and watched the woman arise from her slumber. It was quite obvious that the woman was tired...and a part of him regretted waking her at the late hour. However, the typical evening would find the Archon working even later than this hour; and so he had fully anticipated her being awake.

When she sat up, Isley's eyebrow soared. He had never seen the Archon wear anything but professional dresses or the occasional Templar regalia. But tonight...she was different. She wore something that he particularly liked but would never actually so as much. However, he did not gawk like a dog, but instead averted his eyes out of respect. Clearing his throat, he then began to answer her question: why he had come to see her. "Ever since I left for the Eastern Campaign, we hadn't had the time to sit down and really talk; let alone see one another. It's been months...and yet I call myself your friend. So, I wanted to swing over and see you. To catch up on things." he said, intentionally avoiding mention of her security system. The fact was, he was...sort of equipped for infiltrating and whatnot, more so than the average marauder. Therefore, he did not want to comment; lest she turn her home into a fortress world.

As his gaze slid away from the nightgown that cascaded down her body, he saw something across the room that would prompt conversation. A bottle of wine, on ice, alongside a few glasses. Apparently Feena enjoyed the finer things in life whilst working; which was something Isley could appreciate. Reaching out with the Force, he beckoned two glasses to his waiting grasp in addition to the bottle. With minimal effort, he uncorked the wine with but a whim and poured the both of them glasses. Sure, it was rather bold of him, but what better way was there to talk to an old friend than over a glass of wine? Holding her glass out for her to take, he added: "So how are things? Are the little ones well?"

[member="Feena Mason"]

 

[Feena]

Feena crossed her arms in front of her chest. The castle was cold. Or maybe she was just very sick. Either way, standing there in her night clothes was so very uncomfortable. With a sweeping motion, she snatched up the silk robe on the edge of the couch and pulled it on, but she did not close it.

Her eyes followed his to the bottle of wine. Ever since her first... night with Keter, she had taken a liking to this particular brand. It was not half as expensive as the label would suggest, so Feena had no qualms about leaving it out to be seen. That, and Feena was absolutely a drinker. Nothing could calm the mind, or wash away unpleasantness like a glass of wine.
With a smile and a sigh of relief, she took the glass offered and raised it in thanks.

"Celeste is here. Sleeping. K is watching her for me while I..." she trailed off, waving a hand as if to brush away the unfinished sentence, "And Felicity is studying at the Academy on Coruscant."

Short answers. Truth was, she knew very little about her daughters now. She spent so much time away from them. The medicine, the treatments, not to mention all the work she had to do for the Confederacy.

"Keters been... away. I don't think he wants to face me right now."

The smile on her face was a mix of bitterness and regret with a dash of stubborn indifference. She took a long sip of the bitter red drink, carefully avoiding his eyes. [member="Isley Verd"] was hardly more than a stranger. Somebody that she used to know. Carefully, she sat down on the arm of the couch, crossing her long legs.

"You know, I don't think I've ever asked about your own family. To be honest with you, Verd, I had completely forgotten you had one. Rude of me."

 

[Darth Metus]

Although the business that the Mandalorian worked in revolved primarily around combat, there were times where his "cultured" side shone through. Compliments of his first and only Master, Gregor Gideon, who had all but beaten manners and tact into the brash warrior. Raising the glass to his nostrils, he gently rotated the wine about and allowed it's aroma to waft...'twas a touch on the pricy side, judging from smell alone. He then tilted the glass back, sampling a small taste. It was strong, but not overpoweringly so. Just enough of a punch to take any and all edges off from a long day. No wonder she drinks this stuff. he mused to himself whilst indulging in a full sip. As Feena began to answer his inquiry about her family, his head bobbed up and down casually; denoting that he was listening.

Then came the mention of Felicity's being on Coruscant...a fact that nearly caused Isley to choke on his wine. He coughed and covered his mouth with the rear of his offhand before looking at the woman with concern blazing within his eyes. "Feena. You must get Felicity away from Coruscant. As soon as possible...things are about to get very, very violent there. If you don't, she may..." he began, breaking off. He was not about to finish the sentence, but the meaning was perfectly clear. Felicity's life was in danger, for the One Sith had set their sights upon the capital of the Republic. Using another face and name, Isley stood amongst this organization...but could never utter a word of their existence nor intentions. But this was the child of Feena, his beloved friend. He had to at least give her warning of the Hell that was to come knocking on Coruscant's front door. "You have time. Days even...but you must act now to get her to safety...and please, don't ask me the obvious questions because I can't answer them; not yet anyway." he said, punctuating this statement with another sip of wine. Lowering the glass from his lips, he then inhaled a calming breath and gently smiled. "And...well...my family's doing quite well." came his awkward transition. "Anastasia and Adela are both at the Roon Sanctum, training. Phoebe is off digging for pieces of her past. My brother, Oron...is around...no karking clue what he's up to these days; and that...traitorous sister of mine is in the Omega Protectorate. I think that about covers it."

Yet another sip of wine punctuated his words...and Isley could feel the punch. This stuff was strong, a fact that amused him to no end. "And, as a monumental sidenote, you look beautiful tonight."

[member="Feena Mason"]

 

[Feena]

Feenas hands shook at the mention of danger on Courscant. This was what she missed while she took a week off? Face set like stone, she reached for her communicator.

"K. Felicity is to come back home at once. Send the Order."

"Yes, Mistress," came the immediate metallic reply as Verd went on about his family. Honestly, she hardly heard a word, which was quite rude. But her mind was on her girl, the little Princess of Imerria. Felicity. Even as arrangements were being made for Felicitys evacuation, Feena felt a tug of dread, apprehension. She had been paying such little attention to her daughters. It was... sad. Such little time now. So much still left to do.
She was so caught up on thinking about her birth world of Coruscant, and her eldest daughter, that Feena almost didn't catch what Verd said next.

But, unfortunately, catch it she did. The glass froze at her lips. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror-like surface of the wide window. Beautiful? The wine was strong, but unless [member="Isley Verd"] was a colossal lightweight, there was no way he was drunk enough already. Maybe he needed glasses? He must have injured his eyesight, the poor man, because what Feena saw in her reflection was not beauty. Her face was thinner than ever before, flecks of gray barely hidden by black hair dye weaved in and out of her curls, her eyes, once so bright and silver, now looked to her like lead. She looked exactly as she felt; Like a dying woman.

"You are far too kind for you own good, Mister Verd," she replied after a long silence, "But thank you for your lies all the same."

 

[Darth Metus]

Having gotten to know Feena over the course of several years, Isley learned that emotion would scarce ever cross the woman's expression. She was the definition of nobility and professionalism, and therefore could keep a neutral expression even in the face of death threats. However, even the most skilled players of poker had a tell; and for Feena it was the minor reactions of her body. While most would miss the shaking of her hands, Isley caught on. A soft sigh escaped his lips at once, for he could actually relate. Now that he had children to take care of...he knew exactly what it felt like to worry about their well being; even if their safety was all but guaranteed. As such, the Mandalorian rose from his "seat" upon the window sill and strode calmly across the room. He then took a knee right in front of the couch's arm and placed a comforting hand upon her lap. "You don't have anything to worry about. I won't allow any harm to come to Felicity; even if I have to face down the impending Hell myself." he said, with his tone gentle.

Then came her words in response to his compliment...which was not exactly the reaction he had expected. As the saying often went, beauty was in the eye of the beholder. Now, of course Isley noticed the changes...she had lost weight since the last time they spoke and silver laced it's way through her hair. Her eyes also lacked that vibrant "spark" that he once enjoyed; and in its place was only perpetual weariness. However, as Isley was ignorant to the ails of the body, he simply blamed the changes upon the job. Ever since ascending to the mantle of Archon, mountains of stress were unloaded upon Feena's shoulders...this was bound to have some sort of effect. However, even with this changes, she never stopped being beautiful in his eyes. So, shaking his head with a light smile, he stood up from his kneel and gently placed his hand upon hers.

"I am many things...but a liar is not one of them. To these eyes, you do look beautiful...and don't give me any of that 'my hair is a mess' junk; it's three in the morning. Okay?" he said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

[member="Feena Mason"].

 

[Feena]

And almost at once, the mood shifted. Feenas eyes went from his hand on her lap, to the glass of wine in her own hands, the the glass in his hands, back to his other hand now on her free hand. What was in this wine? Why did she end up getting touched every time she drank it? For a long time, she was silent, the awkwardness of the situation hanging over her head.
Cautiously, she cleared her throat, but despite herself, she sound her cheeks growing pink. She had pretended for so long to be entirely ignorant of his feelings for her, but every time she caught him watching her from afar, meeting his eyes only to have him look away, she was reminded. She knew. But after months and months of not seeing him, after that bizarre visit in the dead of night to marry that one girl, she had thought perhaps at last he was through with chasing ghosts.

Perhaps not.

desperately, she looked around for anything to change the subject. Immediately, she found the only thing she had to use.

"I'm dying. Did you know?"

[member="Isley Verd"]

 

[Darth Metus]

At first, the Mandalorian thought that the woman before him was...kidding. There was no way she was dying; she was just throwing a curve ball at him...right? But then Isley realized that this was [member="Feena Mason"]. There was no such thing as joking; nor curve balls, nor jokes, or anything in between. When she spoke, the content was always one hundred percent true and one thousand percent serious. The expression that gripped the Mandalorian's face in those moments was the definition of mortified. "W-What? H-How?! What's going on? How can you be dying!" he demanded, rising to his feet. "Why...Why you...Of all people in this karking Galaxy, of all the people...Why you..." His voice came forth with the hint of a rasp, one born of choking up. In order to alleviate himself from this discomfort, he quickly downed the remainder of his wine and poured himself another glass...then downed that one just as quickly as the first. While he would have loved to sling the bottle across the room and vented his anger at fate...he controlled himself by slumping down beside the arm of the couch. "How can I help? What's killing you and how do we stop it? Hell, can't you heal yourself Feena?"

[member="Feena Mason"]

 

[Feena]

Well. It did certainly change the mood. Feena winced and stood up as Verd went into panic mode (or as close as she had ever seen him). Silently, she watched him drain his glass, then go for another.
Feena quickly followed his example and drained her own, holding her cup out for him to fill it next.

Why me? Why me, indeed. I never considered how unfair it was until now.

Feena felt a little smirk push its way onto her face at that thought. She never really gave herself time to be selfish about this. Death was just part of living. She faced it every day in the medical profession. It was the enemy, always working against her, but she had come to understand it over time. She had even come to accept her eventual defeat at it's hands.

"How can I help? What's killing you and how do we stop it? Hell, can't you heal yourself Feena?"

"Oh! Thank you so much! I never would have thought of trying something that obvious!" Sarcasm dripped heavily from every syllable, but she sounded more amused than irritated. "It's okay. Truth be told, I've known I was sick for a while. I've done everything I can. I've seen more healers than I care to remember. Nobody can figure it out. But my body is failing me, Isley. Why do you think I was so calm when Ket threatened me? Death threats do very little if I'm already a dead woman anyways."

With a sigh she looked up at the ceiling, the shadow of a smile on her lips.

"It's actually kind of... nice. Dying, I mean. Makes you think about what really matters."

[member="Isley Verd"]