Private Time

[Judah Dashiell]

Two Months Prior to The Parent's Trap | Location : Brokellia, Sahsahlah Floating Mountains | Theme | Event : Sahsahlah Historical Museum Charity Event
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Judah thought the event was one of those that in years prior would have made him extremely uncomfortable. Tickets were invite only, and then once invited, one had to hand over enough credits to buy a small luxury shuttle to secure their presence at the event. Despite the credits, it was all for a good cause, funding a new museum that secured the history of how Corellia broke in two. First hand accounts, artifacts, the history and lore all were on prominent display in thoughtful, well designed, and highly curated sections. The event would be the first time any being outside of museum staff that the 'verse at large got a taste of what was inside.

Dressed in a simple black tux , he had eschewed a tie for a bow-tie, seeming more appropriate for the occasion. Tonight he was taking along a trusted friend ; Myra Elspeth Arceneau . Watching the girl grow up, Judah considered her a daughter at this point, feeling a protective need to watch over her and provide advice as needed. While the young woman seemingly had a fine relationship with both parents, he knew as she navigated adulthood a different perspective about life was often needed. Mix in the fact she was the sole heiress to a massive corporation, Judah knew she would need to have someone in her corner so to speak, a watchful eye in addition to that of Danger Arceneau.

"Mister Dashiell, Miss Arceneau-Kuhn. A pleasure to see you both this evening, welcome. Feel free to explore the museum at your leisure. You'll find refreshments in our event space, but waiters will be circling with drinks throughout."

An overly cheery Twi'lek gave them the run down as they joined the lobby space. Conversation was already echoing through the grand space as wine and other spirits were being picked off trays, the richest of the galaxy pausing to say hello to one another as they passed. Judah recognized most at this point. Since Makai went off to university, then now out to the Pacanth Reach, he had been left alone without much to do socially. Of course he had his hobbies, fishing and cooking and the like, but for the most part those were solitary. Galas, charity events, expos, all were an effort to mingle and find an excuse not to lock himself away on Celestia Station and just work. He fell into that trap too often.

Wine was picked off a tray for Myra, a whisky for himself. He passed the wine over, it would be nice to have something to sip on as they walked throughout the spaces.

"Myra, thank you for joining me. You look beautiful this evening, if you don't mind an old man saying so." Judah offered a small smile towards her. "How have you been? Everything is well in your life? We haven't seen one another in a few months."

 

[Myra Elspeth Arceneau]

"Thank you, Judah," Myra took the glass of wine with a small smile of gratefulness to Judah. Slender fingers wrapped around the delicate stem of the glass, peering at the effervescent drink for a moment. She studied the burgundy hue, seemingly lost in her thoughts, before returning that smile to Judah. Her mind had gone elsewhere regarding his query about how she was doing.

"I appreciate the compliment." she blushed shyly under his gaze, aware that Judah genuinely meant it but also painfully aware that a compliment from one who could be considered her second father was to be expected. Taking a deep breath, she let the air fill her lungs for a moment before slowly releasing it, returning her attention to Judah with a bashful expression. It was nice to be here with him, but it was also painful. Juggling the myriad emotions of seeing Makai in his father's gaze and then wondering just how he was doing, well, aside from the social media stalking she'd done a few months back before she told herself that it was enough.

Drowning herself in misery wasn't helping her anymore.

"Mmm... busy. " her slight weight shifting from one foot to the other would be a tell, the soft Velmorian silk blue dress whispering against her legs. Another couture selection by EL-Three, this one from the spring collection of the Corsucanti Fashion Event. Its smooth, cornflower blue hue complimented her delicate alabaster skin and the stunning contrast of her mahogany hair.

Was everything well in her life? Anyone from the outside looking in could say that it should be. Heiress to the largest conglomerate in the known galaxy and its satellites, along with Otherspace. Education, riches, and opportunities anyone would envy.

Perfect. A perfect life. Thought it wasn't. Forcing a small smile, she held her glass up to clink against Judah's glass, "Cheers."

She might have been able to maneuver the conversation elsewhere with anyone else but not with Judah. No, he had this ability to make one feel comfortable and so easygoing as if he was always willing to lend an ear.

If only he weren't Makai's father.

"Mama has me working in administration now." she began, commencing a slow walk. Turning her attention forward, her delicate profile studied her surroundings without really taking them in. There was plenty in her mind.

A faint but hollow smile. "You might have heard from mama, by now," they always spoke to each other," but the suitor negotiations between Blythe De'taar and me have ended." it had been in the beginning stages. Still, Myra had attempted to try to let go. Maybe that's why she called it 'negotiations' as if it were any other business contract she would have to handle as the heiress of Arceneau Kuhn.

To say it failed would be putting it lightly. It was best to get that elephant out of the room first. Myra wondered if that was the reason Judah had asked to escort her to the event. He'd often take her out to chat and catch up, more often than not, whenever it appeared she was having a hard time. It endeared him to her as much as it stung whenever Makai would come up in conversation, living for the updates and middleman stories regarding how he was doing, what he was up to, and if he was alright. Fearful of hearing the news that he might have found someone he loved. At being replaced. Frustrated at her inaction and inability to reach out, communicate, and explain. Angry at her foolishness, her crazy obsessive schemes, that she chased him away, the inability to let go, and at Makai's seeming capability to walk away with an indifference she could only hope to achieve someday.

And did he even miss her while he was looking for himself out there?

 

[Judah Dashiell]

“Yes, your Ma has told me you’ve stayed very busy. Nature of the business, especially with Arceneau.”

The ended courtship was no surprise to Judah. He had watched Myra over the years ; a hopeless romantic if there ever was one. He would know, having had his own trials and tribulations with love ages ago.

“Blythe is an ass and I told your Ma as such. Clearly my advice had fallen on deaf ears.”

Tone was harsher than expected. Judah and Danger had argued over the subject of Myra's courtship in general. He rarely crossed the line given Myra wasn't his own blood but the Trade Queen had incensed him some months ago with the subject. With the failed courtship, it was clear he was correct; Myra wasn't ready to move on.

I've been there, you can't push her. Words spoken to Danger echoed in his head, the fierceness the debate had sparked in him.

Nearby an elderly woman gasped at his use of language. Muttering that she would have never heard such a foul thing uttered in front of a lady in her day.

“My apologies ma'am.”

Shaggy head turned to Myra and he grinned, clearly not at all sorry about cursing in such a manner. It wasn't something he typically did but such a subject called for strongly worded language. The mention of Blythe and the entire courtship had brought the same feelings and emotions he had tried to convey to Danger, the passion he had in order to get her to see his point.

There was a pause in their conversation and he stopped walking at the early Corellian history exhibit, clearly wrestling with an internal thought.

To Judah it was apparent he had more knowledge on this subject, more insight than Danger herself. Perhaps Myra could benefit from some of his own mistakes.

“May I have your permission to speak freer than usual this evening?”

 

[Myra Elspeth Arceneau]

It was a good thing Judah had used his colorful language after Myra had already swallowed her sip of wine. As it was, she had been unable to help but bring her hand up to cover her smirking mouth, struggling to hold back the snort of laughter at Judah's far too-appropriate use of vernacular to describe the Chuba doompa, dopa-maskey kung.

However, she was surprised that Judah had spoken in depth about Blythe to her ma. Curiosity drew over her delicate features, grey eyes swirling silver pools of intrigue.

"You spoke to Mama about Blythe?" she asked, musing as they stopped at Judah's pause. He seemed to percolate in his thoughts, a deep furrow that reminded her so much of Makai forming right between his brows.

"Well, truth be told. Don't blame my mama. It was my decision to accept his suit. " she looked away towards the enormous exhibit showing what would appear to be an endless wheat field, giving tribute to Corellia's early farming community. Myra brought the wine glass up and took a large gulp of wine as if that would wash away the thoughts, shoving vibroshivs into her head.

"By all accounts, he appeared to be a man of proper background and education, suitable for an eventual marriage. I had made my expectations clear, and he had agreed to them, including any potential pre-nuptial agreements and what it would mean to marry into the family." a fast rotation of her wrist swirled the wine into a small whirlpool in her glass.

"At least, I believed so until Mama discovered his long-term mistress. Needless to say, it didn't last long." she bit her lower lip, chewing on it as an unconscious form of anxious tick. A relationship with Blythe had been anything but; it was sterile, what to be expected in a marriage of convenience, and, if anything, Blythe was good-looking. Never mind that having him touch or kiss her left her feeling nothing. His attempts at pushing her into more intimate ventures would fail each time, Myra unable to bring herself to fall completely into his embrace. Closing her eyes and submitting herself to the attempts had only disappointed them both. Blythe because he had no feelings for her save for his mistress but attempting a good show, Myra, because she couldn't stop feeling the hurtful pang of utter disappointment that she felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. From herself or from Blythe. No, Myra just continued to feel utterly alone.

Was this the sort of romance and life I should expect now?

Swallowing hard, feeling the familiar icy nails of melancholia reaching into heart again, Myra took another sip of wine. It was more than halfway empty now, and they had barely begun their walk.

A fragile ghost of a smile shone up at Judah. She gave a short laugh, amused. "Judah, if you were blunt enough to talk to Mama comfortably about Blythe, feel free to do so with me this evening. " the faintest of trembles took her fingers on that wine glass.

"I am sure you have the best intentions..." the light would catch on the glittering teardrop earring, a topaz blue the same shade as Makai's eyes. Even unconsciously, Myra couldn't seem to let go.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

"Your Ma and I have a different relationship, one started as adults. While I consider us both friends, there's also an underlying dynamic of something more fatherly. It is only right to ask your permission first, as what I have to say is more what two who are on equal footings as adults would share. I'm confident you are able to handle what I want to speak upon."

Judah never thought he would find himself here. Giving advice to Myra about love? When he had met the young woman he wouldn't have suspected that this was where she would have ended up. He had kept a close eye on her growing up and it had shown to his character that he had swaths of time where the young heiress had been in his care. Long nights at the hospital, days on Dac with Makai, keeping her for stays while her parents were on business. Given such the nature of closeness, Judah had grown protective. Perhaps more so than he first realized, if his argument with Danger was any indication.

"Have you ever noticed how similar you and I are?" Judah suspected the young woman had not, given she was not aware of the more personal aspects of his background. "We're both workaholics, mainly because we're lonely. This.." The CEO paused to gesture with his free hand. "....is the only social scene we participate in, and only do so to make it look as if we have a social life."

Taking a sip of whisky, Judah continued on, their steps slow once again.

"We're also both hopeless romantics. I'm aware a man my age shouldn't be admitting such a thing out loud, but its true." He scoffed a little. "We both expected our lives to turn out like an Outworlder fantasy come true but instead it turned into a nightmare neither one of us can wake up from, hasn't it?"

Feet stopped once again, turning to face her. He took a deep breath, unsure if he should ask what he wanted next. Yet he had come this far, had already made himself vulnerable to the young girl, hopefully she could see he only had the best intentions.

"Is it still Makai? Do...what about him gives you pause from moving on? I'm not asking as a father, he will never be privy to our conversation, I assure you."

Judah would never have such an in-depth conversation with Makai of such a nature. Despite his general feelings of anger and disappointment towards Thessa, she was still Makai's mother. To put him in the middle of such feelings was unfair, especially after the time and credits Judah had sunk into intensive therapy for his son.

"Do you love him or are you afraid to find out the truth?"

 

[Myra Elspeth Arceneau]

Judah's and her ma's relationship has always been close. It went further than the line of simply business associates; that was evident enough with how often Danger and Myra spent with Judah and Makai. Be it the farm at Dac, or Celestia Station, the Dashiells and the Arceneau-Kuhn are inseparable. Maybe that is why it was so easy for gossip columns to twist their relationship into something more sleazy when there wasn't a credit of truth to it.

At first, hearing from Judah how similar they were, they were confused, Myra. Then, as he continued his explanation, the elder Dashiell was hitting sore points in the chink of Myra's armor that had her finishing that glass of wine before he even got to the jugular asking about Makai. She couldn't even process Judah talking about Outworlder and wanting such a fantasy life to come true, much less how it had turned into a living nightmare instead.

"I... think I need another glass," Myra began, staring at the empty crystal with a seemingly soft smile that said she was okay when, in reality, she wasn't. The tells were there. The white-knuckled grip on the delicate glass. Her hitch of breath and quickening rise and fall of her chest. How she was hyperfocusing on a singular object to keep herself from tearing up.

Thankfully, a passing waiter with a large tray of drinks weaved his way through the exhibits. Judah, without a word, managed to grab a second glass and offered it to Myra, swapping the empty one for the new one.

Feeling a little exposed, standing in the middle of the exhibit that would be the entryway towards others, Myra murmured, "Can we... please relocate elsewhere?"

Thankfully, moving towards a quieter museum section didn't require much distance. There were sectioned alcoves allowing for privacy and the glorious view of the Sahsahlah floating mountains in the distance. With the Corellian sun setting, it painted the skies in beautiful streaks of gold, ochre, and burnt sienna across a backdrop of deep indigo. It was a scene that would have tempted Myra to paint had her mind not sunk elsewhere.

Is it still Makai? What about him gives you pause from moving on?

"Am I that obvious?" Myra wondered, turning her attention from the horizon over to Judah. Part of her wanted to state, can you tell me why the sound of a baby's laughter makes one smile? Or why does a heart continue to beat even though it feels broken?

Do you love him or are you afraid to find out the truth?

"About Makai?" she didn't answer his question yet. Instead, she wanted to know what he saw that prompted the questions in the first place.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

With her reaction, Judah was tempted to drop the subject. Naturally, Myra was always able to decline, to inform him she didn't feel like answering anything personal. He would understand, there had been multiple instances where he had declined to speak about his personal life, mainly to Danger in those early days. Judah had drawn a firm line in the sand and the woman hadn't crossed it since. At least until their argument about Myra's future.

"Its been obvious to me for about ten years now. If I was blind I would even be able to see it."

Judah tried injecting a bit of humor in the situation, but it still fell flat. While Myra had his full attention, he was careful not to turn himself fully towards her, aware the body language would make it seem she was on the spot. Instead he traded glances between the young woman and the sunset, one of the more spectacular sights he had seen in awhile. Living on Celestia Station for a number of years and a good sunset was something he still missed.

"At one point I was certain you two were dating. After he told me he kissed you."

He had watched closely from the sidelines. The pair had some issues but Judah had noticed a great deal that indicated true affection, even at a younger age. The constant hand holding, chatting exclusively with each other even in group settings, leaving himself and Danger after dinners together to run off and grab dessert or a holofilm. All signs had pointed to the two being closer than just friends , prompting a great deal of talk from himself about boundaries and respecting a womans choice. There had been a lot of blushing and its not like that Dad on his son's end but Judah had chalked it up to a young man trying to keep things private.

"If you would have asked me years ago I would have thought you would be my daughter-in-law by now. Then you two had a fight and I figured things would cool off in a week or two like usual, but its been a stalemate between you two for years now. I find it unusual, considering how close you two were growing up, to just not talk anymore."

Judah sighed, trying to figure out the pieces. He knew he was missing quite a bit, especially since Makai had been tight lipped beyond both getting into a huge fight. He had seen their little spats before, and thought 'huge fight' meant some inconsequential teenage drama. Apparently he was wrong on that front.

"Anyone else would have moved on by now."

 

[Myra Elspeth Arceneau]

"Obvious for ten years." Myra echoed with a flat laugh, twirling her new glass of wine in her hand. She didn't know whether to continue to laugh or cry. Both emotions were swelling up and crashing against the other. She bit her lower lip and then gave a slow nod as if confirming, "Well, at least one Dashiell figured it out."

Judah had figured out that Myra was in love with Makai; not just the love one held for a childhood best friend.

The mention of the kiss brought a light scoff. Odds were Judah wasn't referring to the small peck Makai had given her during Zak's wedding. That had also ended in a fight. Especially after he had conducted a mock proposal offering mints. Marinating in memories, she could recall how that sailing trip turned out. In the end, that trip had been cut short, and he told her it was best that she went home.

"You mean when he told me it won't happen again and it shouldn't have happened in the first place?" in a twisted wry, incredulous tone edged with heartache, "Right, like that would have come to anything after he said that I probably just see him as some overgrown big brother who has hung around all these years."

By the time Judah came to his melodic lament regarding how he'd thought Myra would be his daughter-in-law by now, Myra had to shut her eyes and take a deep breath. The air hung heavy with unspoken words and the weight of unfulfilled dreams. To say that hadn't been her fantasy would be a lie. A lie to the countless hours writing in her diary about imaginary futures or how to perfectly sign her name with Dashiell in the end. Myra Arceneau-Kuhn Dashiell. She had to take her middle name out because, otherwise, by then, it would be too long. Mrs. Dashiell...

What a silly, little, twisted childhood fantasy.

Judah's question broke the poignant silence, weathered by time and burdened by unspoken regrets.

"Anyone else would have moved on by now..." Myra repeated, swallowing hard. Swinging her head towards Judah, Myra tilted her head back to survey the weathered planes of his face. To take in the aspects that reminded her so much of Makai, but the differences as well. The once dark-brown locks, now intertwined with threads of silver, cascading in tousled waves, swept back away from his forehead. His features retained a youthful vigor tempered by the wisdom that only the passing of years could bestow. Once chiseled in youth, the contours of his face now held a rugged refinement, an understated magnetism that left an indelible impression. Yet it was his eyes that always struck Myra. A blue shade darker than Makai's, they were a reflection of the battles fought and the scars carried, held an unwavering warmth-- a silent testament to the love that endured despite the heartache that had ravaged his soul.

"Would you?" Myra asked, her voice echoing the silent ache that lingered within. She stood before Judah, face to face with the man whose eyes held a lifetime of stories and echoes of a bittersweet past.

"Would you have moved on by now?"

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Eyebrow raised at the mention of the kiss. Judah hadn't been informed of such details, naturally. Listening to Myra’s recollection, it sounded like Makai had either been frustrated or scared, but knowing his son a likely a mixture of both. It seemed a tipping point for what occurred and he decided it best not to pry further.

Then her line of questioning went back to himself.

“No, not at all.”

Judah shook his head, reflecting on his own past, his own personal life. A small, humorless chuckle escaped him.

“Have you seen me date anyone? Bring a woman to any event I attend? Haven’t heard me mention anyone when we talk and catch up. So, you can say it’s an easier said than done type of thing, to move on.”

Left hand was held out before him, Judah looking at his appendage with a mixture of regret and disbelief. He waggled his ring finger for a moment before slipping his hand back in his pocket, finding it best to keep it out of sight for what he was to tell her next.

“Sometimes, I look at my left hand, and panic a little because I don’t see that flash of gold. Panic that I lost my ring or forgot it at the house or I go to fiddle with it and it's not there. Then it hits all over again, you know? I remember why that flash of gold isn’t there anymore. That’s been…its been a long time, so I understand the struggle to move forward.”

Judah swirled his glass, using it more to focus on than actually drink.

“I tried moving on when Makai was younger. I came extremely close to acting on some feelings but…I just couldn’t. I couldn’t let go. By the time I thought I could she was married and that effectively shut the door in my face.”

“I don’t want you to end up like me, Myra.This is why I’m telling you this…you’re the only one I’ve ever explained everything to….. Holding on to something, the idea of something, waiting. Hoping. Then realizing the years have slipped by, you’re numb and alone, coming to the conclusion that some things just aren’t for you, or ever will be. Knowing that loneliness is just going to be your companion for the rest of your days.”

He thought back to the argument with Danger, his words towards the Trade Queen.

In her twenties?! What is the rush? What are you expecting will happen if she waits and finds her bearings and doesn’t commit for a year or two?

She's far too young to get married and start pushing out some pricks kids. This is what you want, Danger, a broken unhappy daughter trapped in a loveless marriage? Once Myra produces an heir with whatever “suitable” match she finally picks just to please you she’s stuck. You and I both know she goes out of her way to please you because she’s adopted. Myra will choose anything you dangle in front of her, all in an attempt to be a perfect daughter.

Do you know what that's like Danger? To be stuck between obligation and what the heart wants? To feel like you're going to be an utter failure no matter what choice is made?

You don't. Don't humor me and pretend you do.

I won't stand idly by while you break that girl down. She's already been through too much.

Expression hardened as he recalled the conversation. He chose his next words diplomatically, trying to navigate a situation of respecting Danger’s decisions but also to be open with Myra, to give her perspective. Like a vessel carefully sailing through a straight, Judah couldn’t bump the sides of the shore with this one

“However, in my opinion an arranged suitor will never satisfy you. Especially ones your mother seems to be picking…its….not who I would choose for you. The way I see it, you’re coming into a fork in the road and I predict two outcomes depending on what direction you take.”

 

[Myra Elspeth Arceneau]

Judah's words carried the weight of years spent navigating the labyrinth of his own heartache. His voice held a tremor, a resonance of vulnerability mingled with a raw honesty that seldom found its way to the surface. Certainly, this was a side to Judah Myra had never seen before. It made her wonder if Mama had. It caught Myra's attention, the young woman taking slow sips of her wine glass as he spoke.

Myra took a deep breath, feeling the heavy weight and burden of Judah's admission of constant solitude. Hearing him confess such profound, vulnerable truths made Myra want to step close and wrap her arms around him. Yet she would wait, respecting that he was confessing such intimate details to answer her question.

Watching Judah relive his heartache hurt Myra at her soul, to see his gaze fixated on the emptiness of his hand. The symbol that had once held promises of eternity now felt like a phantom ache for something no longer there. It was an uncanny reflection of the listlessness and broken mess Myra thought of herself. She may not have had the ring or the marriage that fell apart after vows assuring a lifetime commitment. Yet the friendship and relationship she had with Makai throughout all those years, that shared emotional intimacy, and how Makai and she had interwoven their lives practically made it feel like one.

It made Myra think of those late nights at the Farm, when they would stay up for hours, sharing secrets and dreams, and always within each other's orbit. Her throat would get dry, and her heart would race at being in Makai's presence, only to turn to an aching longing at his absence. Thinking back made Myra's skin pucker with goosebumps, not in pleasure but in how the chill of Makai's absence hit her at night.

Blinking rapidly, Myra continued to sip through the glass of wine, feeling that twisted sensation at the base of her belly that made her feel as if she were utterly exposed for all to see just how much of a wreck she was. And what was worse was that she couldn't tell Judah to stop. To not continue telling him that he didn't know what it was like... when he most certainly did. In the worst possible way, he had lived through it as well. Lived, but now merely existing.

Judah's heart carried the burden of unhealed wounds, the journey he walked alone, bearing the weight of what-ifs and regrets. He admitted being unable to let go to move on, and by the time he realized he could, that opportunity had slipped through his fingers. A life of waiting and hoping had turned into a lonely, numb solitude.

Clearly, the turmoil of Judah's past was a backdrop to his plea for Myra to chart her own course. To tread a different path, one unburdened by the shackles of obligation and expectation. She didn't have to ask for clarification; Judah likely referenced the entire fiasco with Blythe.

The happiness and joy that the marital couple at Chandrila had penetrated Myra with such an overwhelming flood of envy and despair. It had brought back memories of Zak Dymo's wedding, Makai's proposal mint joke, their subsequent fight, and the anxious, dreary thought that she didn't want to wait twenty years for Makai to find out what he really wanted. Perhaps such joy and love would never be in her grasp, Myra had mused, foiled by her own folly and the realization that she couldn't force someone to love her if they didn't. Maybe that's why she had accepted Blythe's pursuit and continued until it escalated to the point where she knew she had to end it.

It had been her desperate attempt to feel something again. To not continue wandering as if she was merely existing and not living. To love and be loved. To be put first. To just... feel something other than focusing on the pain.

Hearing Judah state that an arranged suitor would not satisfy her and that there was a fork in the road with two outcomes drew Myra's attention. Swiveling her head up to look at him, she studied him again, musing, watching how the vulnerability in his expression had hardened into one attempting his best to navigate well-intended advice.

"Are you telling me to give up on Makai, Judah?" Myra asked him plainly. She would rather hear him say it if they were honest and forthright.

"If so, then how would you have done it in the past?" It was good that he was being honest regarding his what he'd experienced. It made sense why he would hope and hold on. It had been his marriage he had been trying to work on, attempting to reach a missing wife who had left her husband and son. Myra knew that much from the stories she picked up from her mother when Danger spoke freely at the Farm. Myra didn't see that as a mistake; she saw it as a virtue of loyalty and commitment.

"You had the opportunity to act on feelings for another but didn't because you couldn't let go. I'm glad that at least you had the possibility of finding solace with another." she gave a hollow smile and then looked at her glass. She didn't mean to make it sound like she was belittling his confession or advice. She truly had no idea how to move forward. She was stuck. The one attempt she made turned into a shit show and made her realize just how deep she was, "But I don't even have that."

Twin orbs of stormy grey eyes locked onto Judah's oceanic blue. "So, how do I let go?" her lips formed the words with a wobbly smile.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Judah listened as she filled in her thoughts on what he was to say. In a way, he felt horrible for bringing the subject up in such a space, but Judah wanted to act quickly. He had been involved in an unusual argument with Danger regarding the young woman and he wanted to get a chance to speak to Myra before the heiress potentially got wind. Speaking to the young woman, Judah realized he should have came to Myra herself first to express his concerns. Yet he had been overtaken by such a overwhelming and fatherly need to protect Myra he left the girl out of the equation.

"Are you telling me to give up on Makai, Judah?" Myra asked him plainly. She would rather hear him say it if they were honest and forthright.

"If so, then how would you have done it in the past?" It was good that he was being honest regarding his what he'd experienced.

"Not at all. Not yet."

Judah smiled back at her, a pang piercing his heart to see such a despondent look on her face. He had the overwhelming urge to take her under his arm,squeeze the trade heiress tight, and let her know that everything would be okay. Yet, Judah knew such a thing would be a hollow gesture. Neither of them knew what the future held. She was no longer a little girl that could be easily placated with words instead of concrete actions.

"What I was going to say is....what if you had one final chance? You see the theme in both of my stories, right? The door closed before I could regroup, before I could form a plan. With no window to climb through, I was effectively shut out of any opportunity because the door was locked and not re-opening. Would have it changed any outcome in my life? I'm unsure. However, you and I both know its the what-ifs that gnaw in the back of the mind late at night."

"How would you feel if you had a chance to meet Makai again? To just...throw it all out there, to give you assurance that this is the absolutely the final stone un-turned before moving on?"

He paused for a moment.

"I can arrange for you two to be in the same room, it would be easy for me to do so without his knowledge."

 

[Myra Elspeth Arceneau]

“However, you and I both know its the what-ifs that gnaw in the back of the mind late at night. How would you feel if you had a chance to meet Makai again? To just...throw it all out there, to give you assurance that this is the absolutely the final stone un-turned before moving on?"

At that, Myra had to take a step back as if needing the space to think for the sudden suggestion at the chance to meet Makai again. She was briefly grateful that the alcove provided a measure of privacy; if there was one thing Myra hated was being a spectacle. Not just personally but because of the position, expectations, and obligations she was responsible for. A dark storm brewed in her eyes further when Judah followed up with his offer, biting her lower lip in growing apprehension.

"I can arrange for you two to be in the same room, it would be easy for me to do so without his knowledge."

It was tempting. Oh, so tempting to say yes. Myra clutched at her wine glass, staring at the burgundy hue of the liquid as her mind sifted through rational arguments for bowing out, for taking the cowards way and telling him no, while the more primal voice attempting to claw out from the depths of her mind screamed with the incessant YES it demanded, playing in a loop in her mind.

Just the thought of being face to face with Makai both thrilled her and terrified her. To see him again. To hug him. Hear his voice. Smell that familiar salt and windswept musk off his skin and see the ice-blue light in his eyes. Makai Dashiell — her guardian angel, the best friend of her childhood, her unprofessed adolescent crush, her guilty pleasure little secret. Correction, not so secret if everyone but Makai could see it as plain as day.

“A chance to meet Makai again?” Myra echoed, musing as the fear of inadequacies and how her delaying in reaching out had brought them to this. Myra had faced down fear plenty of times— in talking again, being in groups of people, public spaces, and finally in the business boardroom as an Arceneau-Kuhn. But the thought of coming face to face with Makai unnerved her as much as the desperation to see him again crashed against it. Myra was a different person now, and likely so was he, but apparently those transformations didn't matter to what Myra felt. For her heart, Makai was a grounding wire, the needle of a compass, a gravitational pull.

And she both hated herself and desperately clung to her love for not being able to get over it.

“Judah…it’s been over six years. Sure, he’s sent messages trying to reach but not once has he returned since he left.” Myra chewed on her lip, knowing how cowardly it sounded.

“He’s good at leaving. He always has.” Myra whispered, thinking back to every fight and outburst from Myra that pushed the younger Dashiell away, “— through no fault of his but mine. I realize that now. “

She thought back to the words Blythe had told her, and to a degree, she thought he was right. “Reckon I’m a bit too inflexible you see. It’s either all or nothing for me…For Makai, I’m sure by now I’m just the best friend he left behind ” it certainly felt that way when se saw how happy he was in all his adventures out in the ‘verse without her. He was doing just fine while she was an utter wreck inside.

Stop it. Myra told herself. She took a deep breath, shoulders rising. Truth spoken out loud like this has a way of niggling at one from the inside, nudging the heart, tugging at the soul, lighting the mind with possibilities and sinking one’s gut with the risks behind them. Truth knows how to say I dare you and make you take notice, even if you'd rather disown it and remain insulated and safe.

Looking up at him Myra gave him a soft wobbly smile, as if trying to change the topic, “Judah it ain’t too late for you. You are more than worthy to find love and someone who would cherish and adore you for the wonderful man you are. Mama can’t stop singing your praises even now, and I see them too.”

It was true, anything having to do with the elder Dashiell that fell from the Trade Queen’s mouth was nothing but one compliment to the next. Loyal, hardworking, protective, dependable, trustworthy, handsome as hell with eyes you could drown in, and finally, family oriented and a wonderful father to a son any woman would love to call her own. One would think it was their close friendship forged through business and due to Makai. But now that Myra thought about it…she wondered more. The tabloids certainly loved to paint scandalous stories. However she knew nothing of the sort ever occurred between Judah and her ma… Right?

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Judah patiently waited while she processed the information. He could see the conflict on her face, weighing pros and cons, the thrill and terror all at once. Myra, no doubt, had not expected such a proposal to come her way. He could only imagine the mental war of making a decision, at her age he would have given pause as well.

Now? He would have jumped at the chance. Yet such a decision had only come with years of pondering and mental debates and what-ifs to come to such a conclusion.

Yet upon hearing her next words, he could no longer remain silent, needing to impart some wisdom that had nothing to do with his son.

“Reckon I’m a bit too inflexible you see. It’s either all or nothing for me…For Makai, I’m sure by now I’m just the best friend he left behind ”

"Don't you dare use that word again to describe yourself."

Unlike the storm he was with Danger about the same issue, Judah remained much calmer this time around, although the thought of the young man at the center of this still breathing caused his jaw to clench once more.

"Any man worth his salt will never ask you to bend to his will, do you understand me Myra? Continue to be inflexible. Anyone who loves you will take that part of you and work with it, not against it."

Judah reached out and gave her shoulder a fatherly squeeze for a brief moment, hoping the Trade Heiress would take his advice to heart. It may have been a bit out of bounds, but ever since his argument with her mother, Judah couldn't help but be concerned Alric wasn't keeping an close enough eye on his daughter.

“Judah it ain’t too late for you. You are more than worthy to find love and someone who would cherish and adore you for the wonderful man you are. Mama can’t stop singing your praises even now, and I see them too.”

"I appreciate it Myra" Judah smiled, amused. "Yet we aren't talking about myself. Maybe next time the subject can be myself and my personal life."

The CEO carefully navigated the subject back to Makai, back to a potential meeting.

"Do you really think he's moved on, is that what you believe?" He paused, considering what to say, and if she was to believe his words. "I don't believe that's the case at all. He doesn't sail anymore, not for fun anyway. Barely surfs. Hardly ever just spends the day out at the ocean. He hasn't visited the Farm since you two fought, and I used to have drag him away from your parents place. All I see is a broken kid, listlessly sprawled on my couch, staring at the ceiling. Occasionally staring at his comm or datapad as if expecting something."

Judah sighed.

"That's why I've forced him into many decisions. Its clear he's not thinking straight, that something is on his mind. Its like he's lost."

"That's why I've sent him away to survey the Pacanth Reach. I'm hoping some clarity may come in the form of solitude and hard work....yet I'm not even sure that's going to work."

Solitude and hard work was his father's way of dealing with such things, and Judah was now trying it with his son. Yet Makai wasn't him. Nor was he Esra Dashiell. Ony time would tell if he was making the correct decision or not.

"I'm not asking you to make a decision right now Myra. Mull it over. Weigh your wants versus desires."

"Just be confident in that decision. I can tell you now, at my age, I would have loved to had been given this opportunity. In my twenties? Not so much. I understand the need to pause."

 

[Myra Elspeth Arceneau]

"Don't you dare use that word again to describe yourself. Any man worth his salt will never ask you to bend to his will, do you understand me Myra? Continue to be inflexible. Anyone who loves you will take that part of you and work with it, not against it."

It wasn't to say Alric hadn't tried to help Myra. He had. He was her father, after all. Yet there was this wall that Myra had built up regarding being entirely honest with Alric and Danger regarding how she felt and what had occurred. Revealing all the details and circumstances, how Blythe had not only attempted to force physical intimacy but when she had repeatedly attempted to rebuke his advances, he made her feel as if it was all her fault. Her inflexibility. Finally, only stopped after her crying outburst as if it had pained him. Then Myra's self-reproach only grew worse.

Revealing the truth to her ma and pa would mean they would not heed her request to leave it be. To let it go. They would make Blythe pay, one way or another. Her ma's wrath would hold no bounds. It would escalate—the blood on their hands. The example made to ensure no one else would dare make the same mistake. Then the gossip, the holo tabloids, and the entire stupidity of Myra's choices blasted for all to see and hear.

For Makai to be out somewhere to read and see her at her lowest, her utter embarrassment at the choices she made plastered and on display for him to think the worst.

Where Myra could do her best to hide the truth from her adoptive parents, there was just something about Judah that made it so easy for him to get past her carefully constructed veneer. He had been there since the beginning as well, from the day that Danger had brought a scared little six-year-old girl to come to see the sea and her really good friend with a son named Makai, about a year or so older than her. Judah had been in Myra's life for every milestone, trading rotations with her parents when years of being in and out of hospital with a terminal disease meant sleepless nights washed in pain and the fear of the unknown, celebrated her successes and seen, first hand, just how head over heels in love she'd been with his son far earlier than Danger and Alric picked up. Maybe Judah was right. Like knew its kind, and Judah and Myra were two peas in a pod, tied by the love and affection born through years of that little girl being raised with his son almost as if she were his own.

Hearing Judah tell her all these things sent a crack through the dam. The weight of unspoken emotions pressed upon her chest like a leaden cloak. Her trembling fingers traced the stem of her wine glass as if they were the edges of her memories and heartache, a storm brewing behind her eyes. She wrestled with the echo of Blythe's haunting words, the gaslighting that left her questioning her very existence.

Anyone who loves you will take that part of you and work with it, not against it.

No, Judah... Not when I pushed Makai away. Not when he left because of me.

"Do you really think he's moved on, is that what you believe? I don't believe that's the case at all. He doesn't sail anymore, not for fun anyway. Barely surfs. Hardly ever just spends the day out at the ocean. He hasn't visited the Farm since you two fought, and I used to have drag him away from your parents place. All I see is a broken kid, listlessly sprawled on my couch, staring at the ceiling. Occasionally staring at his comm or datapad as if expecting something.

That's why I've forced him into many decisions. Its clear he's not thinking straight, that something is on his mind. Its like he's lost. That's why I've sent him away to survey the Pacanth Reach. I'm hoping some clarity may come in the form of solitude and hard work....yet I'm not even sure that's going to work."

Of course, he hasn't visited the Farm. Why would he? Why would he come back? Why would he bother? Myra's demons had a field advantage in this court. As for the commentary that Makai doesn't sail for fun or barely surfs was directly contradicted by the holo-book stories and Makai's messages showing an holopicture of him on some beach getting ready to surf or sailing with his University team.

Lost? Makai lost? No. Makai wasn't lost. Makai was running. He'd been running back when they were teens when he left Koa at the Farm and then went to Midvinter and Chiss space. He'd told her then in his note that he'd be leaving for years.

I had to be the one to chase him down. Only to be told it was a mistake to come out there.

Growing anguish filled Myra, her lower lip trembling. Myra's heart felt like a tangled mess of unspoken apologies and unanswered questions, a melancholic melody of lost connections and shattered trust.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

"I'm not asking you to make a decision right now Myra. Mull it over. Weigh your wants versus desires....Just be confident in that decision. I can tell you now, at my age, I would have loved to had been given this opportunity. In my twenties? Not so much. I understand the need to pause."

Of course, Myra longed to reach out to Makai. To bridge the chasm that had grown between them, but the fear of rejection held her back, paralyzing her in a web of what-ifs. The thought of seeing Makai again and unraveling the misunderstandings between them tugged at her heartstrings. She yearned for closure, for a chance to mend the fragments of their fractured friendship.

Seconds ticked past, and that white knuckle grip held her empty wine glass so tight that she swore it would break. Each tick of the clock made Myra feel the weight of her anguish as it settled upon her shoulders. The tears that had welled up had nowhere else to go, cascading silently down her cheeks in an uncontrollable torrent.

Judah, a silent witness to her unraveling, would sense the tremors of her trembling shoulders, the weight of her emotions causing her delicate frame to cave inwards. Myra's facade crumbled with each shuddering breath, revealing the vulnerability she had fought to conceal. Each sob tore through the fragile facade she had fought so hard to maintain.

She felt utterly broken, lost in the whirlwind of emotions she couldn't contain anymore. She felt adrift in a tempest of unresolved feelings, lost amidst the fragments of a friendship she desperately wished to mend. In that moment of vulnerability, she allowed herself to embrace the rawness of her emotions, to feel the pain and confusion that had long been suppressed.

And cry. Oh, how she pitifully, heartwretchedly, she cried.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

My current track record with the Arceneau women is horrible.

Judah had never intended to make the young woman cry. Especially in such a soul racking, cut to the quick manner. The proposal was supposed to be an offering for Myra to mull over, not make her feel as if she was on the spot, that he was digging for answers for Makai's sake.

Makai. Judah was ready to strangle his son at this point. He knew of his sons struggles to a point, obviously there was more to the story of their argument than Myra or Makai were willing to tell. It was apparent it had destroyed a long friendship and the shock waves were still being felt.

This has to end.

He wasn't expecting a love story to play out with a reunion, no. Yet he expected the two to at least mend the proverbial fence, make an attempt to be friends once again. A plan was forming not only to talk to his son but to at least get the two in the same room ; they could either fight it out and get past it or apologize and push into new territory.

Much like what he had been doing during Makai's time at university, some subtle redirecting and pulling-of-strings behind the scenes could occur on his end. Plans were solidified to visit the Pacanth Reach personally and speak, to offer some hard truths to his boy.

In the meantime, he had an upset Trade Heiress on his hands.

He gently took the crystal from her, setting it next to his drink on a ledge. Handkerchief was produced from an inner breast pocket and pressed into her hand that once contained the empty wine glass, using his hand to curl hers around the fabric.

Judah pulled the girl into his embrace, letting her have a quiet place to sob and wallow in her sorrows, despite the fact that seeing her cry was tearing him apart. Myra was essentially his daughter and as such came the overwhelming need to shield her from the universe. The fatherly instinct to make everything right for the young woman despite knowing, that at least in this moment, there was he could do but let her cry.

He had thought as Myra had gotten older, had turned the page from her disease, recovered and grown the protective feeling would abate as adulthood loomed. It seemed to only get worse, especially with his son gone.

Judah found himself making excuses to attend events Myra was at, lingering at the edges with a watchful eye. It was why he had befriended the young Casteel, subtly judging the mans character and self-worth, ambitions, and ability to navigate Myra through various hazards. A way to watch when he couldn't be present.

"Now Myra, you can't keep crying, cause you know I'll start crying too. We only have one handkerchief."

A bit of fatherly humor but it was true. A bit of a scruffy, rough look on the outside but inside was nothing but a tenderhearted fool.

"I apologize, I never intended for you to end up weepy over my line of questioning."

 

[Myra Elspeth Arceneau]

As Judah held her, a surge of tears cascaded down her cheeks, reflecting the turmoil she harbored within. She accepted the handkerchief, a comforting gesture amid her emotional storm. His gentle guidance, curling her hand around the fabric, offered a silent reassurance of his unwavering support.

Myra leaned into his embrace, seeking solace in the shelter of his fatherly concern. The scent of amber, oud, vanilla bean, and mahogany enveloped her like the oaky notes of his whiskey, the soft brush of his beard gently tickling her temple, the young woman's face tucked just under his chin and close to his heart.

She felt the weight of his protective instinct, a shield against the uncertainties that plagued her. Despite his efforts, she knew there was little he could do in that moment except let her release her pent-up emotions. By now, Myra had become more than aware that most of her troubles were a cause of her own melancholia, fears, and terrible sets of circumstances that only fed into one another, making her feel as if there was no respite in sight at all.

Myra's sobs gradually softened into quieter sniffles as Judah held her. His genuine concern and fatherly care were evident, providing a semblance of comfort amidst the turmoil. It was the same comforting hold he'd held her in time and time again in the past while growing up when she was sick, hurt, or needing a loving hug to hold.

True to Judah's character, the dad jokes ran rampant. Myra gave a choked laugh, rubbing her eyes with the handkerchief, aware that her makeup was likely ruined. Swallowing hard, she let herself shut her eyes and breathe. There was something cathartic about sobbing one's heart out. She might still feel like shit, but at least that overwhelming depression wasn't overpowering her.

"Judah," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "No. No need to apologize. It ain't your fault." This had been simmering for some time now. Boiling til the pot overflowed. One would think that with time, the hurt would heal and be numb to the pain. It didn't. Time wasn't a friend. It just made it worse. Time just seemed to punish Myra over and over again.

"I know you meant well. It's not your fault. It's just… it's all so overwhelming." Myra opened her eyes, redrimmed and puffy, with smeared mascara darkening her lids and under her eyes, emotions still raw from the tumultuous events.

"I never imagined it would come to this," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Everything seemed to make sense at once, and now it feels like the universe is crashing down around me."

Taking a steadying breath, she loosened her grip on the handkerchief and wiped her eyes. "Thank you," she said softly, her gaze meeting the concern and affection in Judah's deep blue eyes. "For being here. For caring. For trying to mend what's broken. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Myra managed a faint smile, a glimmer of her usual resilience breaking through the emotional haze. "You're right about the handkerchief. No more tears today, I promise," she said, attempting to lighten the heavy atmosphere. "Besides, we wouldn't want you turning into a tenderhearted, crazy mess like me now, would we?"

Despite her attempt at humor, the weight of the situation lingered. For now, Myra just wanted to be able to breathe. To find a little joy in Judah's presence and conversation. It was those precious moments she had left to cling to.

She had to start somewhere at least.