Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private To Quell the Tempest Softly






"You know," he said quietly to Cora. He didn't want to interrupt the main event. "He also hasn't watched season three of Uptown Manor. You know...if you wanted to catch up..."

"Kark."

As a Knight he was afforded something closer to a studio apartment. He had his own shower, a bed, a small desk and even room for a small microwave and mini-fridge. There was a small bookshelf he had tried to hang himself, before giving up and asking for help. That was very new. There were even books on it. They had bookmarks in them.

The space did not stop Makko from letting it become a mess. He'd left a plate unwashed on the desk, spare robes and clothes scattered across the floor. Makko checked his wrist-chrono, grimaced, swallowed the panic and set to tidying up. He already had season 3 of Uptown Manor loaded up.

Makko's time on Denon was a period he wanted to put behind him. He had made a big mistake and - if he was honest with himself - had been a little seduced by being treated as special by Fractal State. In a few moments of clarity, he had ensured credits had been well hidden from the gang. It wasn't a fortune, but it felt like a lot to Makko. He had spent some of it one a really nice holoprojector. It stayed on the desk beside the bed and he could sit or lie there and watch shows projected across almost an entire wall.

Eventually he ended up kicking a small pile of laundry under the bed. He didn't think Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania would be around for more than a few hours so she would never know. They had been through the rollercoaster of emotions to get there and he just wanted a few quiet hours. Makko had finally accepted that the past was not a place they could turn to, but he wanted Cora to be safe and content. And he still wanted her in his life.

He sat on the edge of his bed, pretended to scroll through some news on his datapad and waited.
 
Standing outside Makko's door, Cora could only picture him on their flight back from Ukatis. She saw the raw, visceral hurt in his eyes, could recall the way she felt silent sobs wrack his body as she held him.

The weeks following had made her numb. The dissolution of her marriage, subsequent exile, betrayal and now the razing of Ukatis all weighed heavily on her. Cora no longer recognized herself in the mirror.

Both she and Makko had separately come to the quiet agreement that things couldn't go back to the way they were.

That didn't meant that they couldn't find a way forward, whatever shape that ended up taking.

The door slid open shortly after she'd knocked.

"Hey." She said softly. While lingering at the threshold, her eyes swept past Makko to observe his new digs. It was larger than the Padawan dorm, but still distinctly Makko.

Makko Vyres Makko Vyres
 
"Hey," he echoed back. "Come on in."

"Oh. Yeah. You haven't even been in here."

Despite having thought about that just minutes ago, her curious glance around the room had surprised him. Makko had to remind himself just how long it had been since she had left Coruscant. This wasn't the same room, the decorations were not the same and he was not the same.

His padawan cabin had always been relatively spartan. They were expected to keep their focus on their training. The Jedi might not have been as strict as they had once been about removing attachments, but there was still an element of that style in their training. Cora hadn't even been to that room that often. With so much kept in secret, they had usually lost themselves in the urban sprawl of Coruscant to spend time together.

He had spent too much time here recently. Feeling tired, feeling physically sick, letting thoughts stew. What he had needed was a little time; there were no answers or magic bullets to his feelings.

"I, er, decided the Clown World Order signed poster Starlin got for me didn't want to go on the wall," he said with a grin. There was instead a large poster next to the bookshelf featuring a Denon street racing team. That one wouldn't give anyone nightmares.

"Couple of drinks in the fridge if you want, grab the chair from the desk or sit over here," he said. It was a little unnecessarily defensive to offer the wooden stool before a comfy spot on the bed that he had turned into a sofa with a pile of cushions. They were still working around where they stood. He pushed a button and a blue projection appeared on the blank wall.

"Pretty cool, huh? Promise I haven't watched any of season three."
 
Cora returned Makko's grin with a faint smile. There'd been plenty of tension in their relationship - the foundation it had been built on, really, before more affectionate feelings had taken root - but they'd never been very awkward around one another until now.

"They weren't that horrible." She offered, recalling the night when she'd borne witness to their live performance. They were even louder in the club than she'd imagined.

Retrieving a water from the minifridge, Cora looked to him over her shoulder. "Want anything?"

She threw a cursory glance to the chair at his desk, a standard temple issue seat that wasn't known for its comfort. Did Makko offer that first because that was where he'd preferred her to sit? Or was he just being polite and keeping boundaries in mind?

Cora elected to seat herself at the edge of the bed. She didn't settle in, back straight and shoulders even. Her legs were crossed at the ankle, the toe of her shoe just skimming the floor.

"You'd better not have." The threat may have been mild, but it was served with a dangerously arched brow. "Especially not after all of the effort it took to get you to enjoy the first season."

It hadn't been his type of show at first, but there were points where Cora had felt that Makko was more absorbed by the plot than she.

Makko Vyres Makko Vyres
 
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"They weren't that horrible."

"Oh, but the poster was!" he said, before asking for a drink.

When she sat down, he took the opportunity to shuffle a little closer to take the bottle of Ardees from her, that he had asked for from the fridge. He had long learned the importance of never, ever referring to the commercial drink as 'tea' in her presence.

Makko grinned, open and honest, at the sight of that arched eyebrow. Things had never been stilted between them before. Even during those worst night time calls from Ukatis when she found herself at her lowest and had to put her pride aside and call him.

The most simple of interactions, in the form of a small threat, reminded him that they were still themselves. Even though they had taken very different long and winding roads to end up here. Even though those paths had changed them permanently. Changed, but not so far that they couldn't be relaxed around one another with a little time. Moving just a little closer was a small signal that he didn't want so much space between them.

No matter what they had been through, he was happy that she was safe and he was happy that she was staying with the Jedi.

"I mean there were some bits I enjoyed," Makko protested. It was rather apparent from his grin that he knew he'd been found out and could only deny so much. He invited her to contradict him as he tapped on a datapad to find the first episode.
 
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"I swear that poster is more frightening than walking in on Valery when..." Cora shook her head, suppressing a shudder as she passed Makko his bottle. "Enjoy your tea-flavored water."

When he tried to downplay his interest in Uptown Manor, she took the bait.

"Oh, please." Cora drawled while unscrewing the cap of her water. "You gasped louder than I did when Marcella discovered Lady Colfield's affair with her husband's footman!"

Tilting her head back slightly, the blonde rolled her eyes and she sipped her drink. She knew when Makko was trying to get a reaction out of her, but only now did she realize how strangely normal it felt.

Cora looked on as he scrolled, her sour expression mellowing out. "I hear that the third season is supposed to be really good."

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Makko could only make a face at her retort. He had no defence, but he had known as such when his protest had invited the challenge.

"When I bought the book season one's based on, I had to put a block on my holonet feed to avoid spoilers, but I heard it's good too," he agreed. It was a confession as much as an agreement.

"Im looking forward to watching it."

With Cora. He had been looking forward to watching it with her.

He wore a content smile for a few moments as he found the season and first episode. The smile twitched briefly, heralding his next comment.

"Yeah, look, I'm not gonna call this tea but...isn't tea...tea flavoured water?"

"Wait..."

Because he had been weighing up the potential hazards of bringing tea into the conversation, Cora's first comment had only just sunk in.

"...you caught Valery and...Kahlil..."
 
Surprise flickered onto Cora's face before her expression hardened icily. Oh, now he was getting into dangerous territory.

"You know very well that tea isn't just-"

The reprimand died in her throat, and it took a few moments for Cora to work out how to respond. "N-no! Just Valery. We-well, it was more like…er…" The blazing heat that crept over her cheeks didn't make searching for an answer any easier.

"This was…a long time ago." She clarified. "I walked in on her…she was wearing this dress and I didn't see anything I wasn't supposed to, but it was more the pose, she was taking pictures for…and they were staring right at me, Makko."

Cora covered her flushed face with both hands, thoroughly embarrassed at recounting the memory where she'd walked in on Valery taking risqué pics for Kahlil.


"I walked into a wall and got a bloody nose." She admired quietly, picking her head up before he could laugh too hard at her misfortune.

"Wait, you can read? I mean, you're reading for fun?"

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Makko actually blushed and shuffled where he sat. Makko was normally confident and at ease in most situations. Being quite empathic, he was more embarrassed on Cora's behalf than the situation as a whole.

He almost asked about the mechanics of how she managed to get her nose into the wall first. Given the recent headbutt, he decided to let that one go.

He shook his head, eyes widened in one final show of bemusement. He wondered if this was before or after Vera ratted them out. Makko laughed just one for the mental image of her rapid retreat before moving on.

“I did try reading the book that the first season was based off. I didn't get very far,” Makko said.

That was unlikely to be a surprise. He had never been shown how to read at school. He had learned aurabesh to code, never to enjoy fiction.

“But I did read the first book of Cogs of Time.”

That would be surprise. They had both hated the show two episodes in and given up. It was a tale of swords and sorcery and epic adventure.

"You were right, way better than the show."
 
To Cora's surprise, Makko didn't burst into laugher and mock her relentlessly. Instead, he seemed just as embarrassed as she was.

This was…a new development. It reminded Cora that the passage of time didn't affect her alone, and that Makko had matured. Fortunately the conversation had swiftly moved on to more literary pursuits.

"The Uptown Manor novels are quite…wordy." She nodded. "I've read them all, but only once. There were a few points where I'd read whole paragraphs over because I couldn't understand what was happening."

They knew by now that between the two of them, Cora had been afforded the more thorough education. When Makko had been working to survive, Cora had years of dedicated lessons in reading, writing, arithmetic, and galactic affairs. The perks of wealth and status.

Her soft smile broke into a grin when he mentioned Cogs of Time.

"I told you!" She jeered before playfully elbowing him in the ribs. Cora withdrew almost immediately, the gesture feeling too familiar, but the good humor did not fade from her face.

The introduction to season three of Upton Manner drew her eyes to the projection on the wall.

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He was actually glad she hadn't made light of him struggling with the Uptown Manner books. Makko was enjoying a bit of light jostling and that would have felt a little sore. The books even had a wordier title: Tribulations of the Tarrogot House. It was no wonder the producers had picked a different title. Book fans were known to scoff at the 'loose interpretation'.

Fortunately somebody's books were the kind stocked on spaceport store shelves and not likely to end up with a television adaptation.

"Yeah, yeah," he went, grinning back at her. "It's kinda fun imagining a world like that for yourself."

Makko had grown up with the net always accessible, but under extreme pressure to fit in with the Fractal State culture. He had grown up too quickly. Even Valery had been surprised by the fact that his imagination didn't stretch as far as a holiday for himself.

"I'm looking forward to this," he said. He hit play and settled back comfortably into the cushions. The famous piano intro started up and he grinned. He had missed Cora. He had missed them which was an important distinction.

Makko had given her space when she had returned from Ukatis, but he'd also been quite clear with her on that shuttle ride - the wrong time for such a thing - that he'd hoped that maybe they could rekindle a little of what they had been. It was worse than that. Makko had never, ever stopped loving her in all that time. If it wasn't to be, he still wanted her in his life. It struck him just how much he'd missed just the little verbal sparring, which still seemed to fit together no matter how they had changed.

The first episode would be quite a gentle, jovial affair. Typical Uptown Manor before it introduced more tradegy for Lady Coldfield pregnant but not knowing the father.

"But yeah," he said at a quiet moment of the show. "If you've got any other books I should read?"
 
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Even during the quiet moments, Cora's rapt attention kept her glued to the projection. The firsts episode had started much like any series opening – a dose of drama you could ogle. Lady Colfield's surprise pregnancy was hitting a little too close to home.

"…books...?" She echoed quietly, quite detached from what Makko was asking her. "Um…"

Cora wracked her brain to come up with a satisfying answer. On screen, Lady Colfield suddenly collapsed in the courtyard of her manor, clutching her stomach with a gasp and a pained grimace.

Makko's simple question felt like word soup in her head. She couldn't make sense of what he'd said, not when she was staring at the screen in disbelief. The implication of what Lady Colfield was going through reopened an old wound Cora didn't even know that she had. On Ukatis, it all happened so quickly. It was early, before she even knew – and once she had, it was over. Amani had been there to help her through it, but memories echoed painfully through her whenever Cora found herself looking back on a situation she never knew quite how to feel about.

As the scene faded out, she'd clasped a hand over her own mouth, a few silent tears dribbling down her cheeks.

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Her stutter, so unlike Cora, drew his attention. The pulse of deep regret hit him the moment he opened himself up to the Force. It had its own shape and colour, painting a picture he couldn't understand. He could only reel from the strength of it.

He wouldn't have needed the Force. Not their bond, not his sharp sense of people's thoughts and feelings. Her silhouette was lit by the reflection on the wall. The tear carved a path of silver down her skin.

"Cora," he murmured, but he was already moving. Slowly, but unfalteringly, he placed an arm around her back and turned towards her. Despite her proud nature, he offered a shoulder and chest into which she could bury her face. Time didn't matter. Instinctive, familiar touch had been laid down in months of time spent together before her departure.

She didn't need to say anything else. Horace had made his intentions for her future clear, he could work it out from the story. The screen went dark, a silent manipulation of technology through the Force.

He didn't tell her that everything would be alright. Those words would have rung hollow.

Makko was reminded that what he had been through: listening to Cora over some holonet calls, him being taken advantage of by Fractal State, and feeling rejected after Thule - they were nothing compared to the hell she had been through. That she had the strength to even face the world, let alone pull his stupid backside out of Denon and stand up to Marcel, was a testament to her strength.

"I'm here."

He had made that promise and it had gone unfulfilled.

"Lean on me."

If he couldn't offer that without reservation then he didn't deserve her in his life at all.
 
"Sorry, I-"

Cora resented the way her voice cracked into a sob. She wanted to move forward with her life, not feel a flood of irksome emotions over something that had happened nearly a year ago. The hand clasped over her mouth pressed tighter while her shoulder shook in a desperate sob.

The brief urge to leave the room was quelled by the arm across her back. She didn't have the strength of mind to stop to question it, but she still felt as if she didn't deserve his kindness, not after how soundly she'd hurt him in the aftermath of Thule.

Slowly, Cora let herself tip over until her forehead was pressed against Makko's shoulder. He didn't assail her with questions, didn't try to pull whatever thoughts were running though her mind and put them into words. He was just here.

It didn't take her long to break down completely, weeping violently in Makko's arms not just for the child she'd lost, but for the shame she'd felt for not wanting it in the first place. She wept for the shattered picture of her future that she'd clung to, for the brutal nightmare she'd been subjected to by the hands of her own husband, for the suffering of the Ukatian people, for the sleepless nights and pain she brought to those who'd truly cared for her.

Cora only stopped bawling when she struggled to breathe, pulling herself back from the brink with shallow gasps.

She laid there, practically melted against Makko, but far quieter. Tears still stung her reddened cheeks, and her ribcage shuddered with soft, trembling breaths and the occasional quiet sob.

It was a wretched feeling, to be comforted by someone you did not deserve comfort from. Still, Cora would selfishly take solace in Makko, focusing on the gentle paths his fingers took through her hair.

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Makko opened himself up to the Force. Each of those little thread that had bound them across the stars was a moment in time. A shared experience, something woven between them. This would be another. A moment of pain, an outpouring of misery. But to unleash to torrent was also to relieve the pressure that had been damned up. It was inevitable.

At some level, he was glad that it happened here. Not when Cora was alone to suffer it in silence. Not when she was in public, knowing how it would have damaged her pride. It might have been a weakness at times, but her pride was also part of her strength. She was changed, but she was who she was. If she hadn't challenged him in, they never would have woven those moments into the bond they still shared.

It hurt. To feel a pain that she had hidden even from him. Every different facet of it and all the other feelings that came flooding out with it.

Makko held her a little more tightly. Just enough that she might feel surrounded in his warmth. He tucked her head under his chin and slowly stroked her hair. Makko placed a kiss on the crown of her head, the gesture and the familiar scent of her hair evoked a raft of memories. He could feel hot tears spreading out over his tunic. Makko cherished those memories for what they were.

He had always thought she was stronger than him. In fact, he still did. To see, to feel how the world had tried to crush that was horrible.

That feeling he tamped down. Instead, as the slow racking sobs turned to stuttered breaths he unfurled the warmth of affection he still felt for her. She was strong, but people here cared for her deeply and Cora would need to turn to them. He cared for her. Nothing had changed that. He let the reflection of his feelings suffuse through their bond so that she could not deny them.

"Cora," he said softly. He leaned away, but drew her with him. He sank back into the pile of cushions and wrapped both of his arms around her so that she could lie more comfortable against his chest. They had changed physically too. Both a little taller, Makko with a little broader across the shoulders and chest.

She would talk if she needed to. He decided to let her take that step if she wanted to. There was no advice he could offer that would make this any easier.
 
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Cora didn't know if it had been fifteen minutes or an hour.

Makko hadn't left her side. He asked no questions and demanded no answers. There were no words that could comfort her, but his presence, his acceptance, and the affection that swelled in their bond made it easier for her to come utterly undone in his arms.

It wasn't a pretty thing, to release a pressure that had been steadily building over the years. But it was, in an ugly and painful way, cathartic. There was no rush, so Cora took her time to steady the cadence of her breathing a little better.

"I-It was…the same thing- for me-" She gasped, letting another brief sob shudder through her core before exhaling sharply. "I didn't even know that I was…until I lost it."

Her face was pressed against his chest, one hand gripping his opposite shoulder while the other twisted into the sheets beneath her. "I didn't want it…not with him. I felt relieved that I l…lost it, but a-ashamed that I was…relieved."

Cora took in a few deep breaths, trying to still the tempest of guilt that whirled violently inside of her.

"I sometimes wonder," She murmured against his shoulder. "What they would have…looked like. If they were a…"

Cora hoped that she wouldn't have girls, not if they had to grow up on Ukatis.

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Makko's let her speak. He didn't interrupt and when she was done, he just stroked her hair for a few more seconds.

There were a thousand different ways their lives could have gone. Makko had spent too much time wishing he could go back and change things. His desire to have taken her on their silly flight to Ord Mantell outweighed his wish for her not to have gone to Thule many times over.

In another life she had given birth to healthy heirs for Horace. Fearful for the safety of those children and with Horace getting his wish, she might have remained on Ukatis forever.

"I think it's okay to feel all those things," Makko said quietly. Even his voice cracked. It was a big revelation. He knew so much more about her life than other people, but she had suffered even more than he had known.

"I feel like... I wanna know what to say. I don't. Can't be in your shoes."

He wiped moisture from his own cheeks, before letting his hands rest gently against the small of her back. Makko hadn't even realised that - for a time - he had cried along with her.

"I'm sorry for everything that happened," he said. It wasn't his to apologise for, but he did anyway. He didn't need to tell here that he was there to listen; if she didn't know that then she wouldn't have been telling him.

Makko left his left hand flat to her back. His right hand slowly trailed up her shoulder. He felt a slight pang of longing, followed by another of guilt for enjoying the touch of her skin and all the memories of what they had been. Up and over his shoulder, he drew his fingers through her hair and threaded it behind the shell of her ear. One curled finger gently stroked down her cheek, wiping a tear away. With the same fingertip against the tip of her chin, he gently urged her to look up at him.

Makko smiled down at her. A quiet, sad sort of smile. He couldn't say anything to make it better, but he could listen. The gesture was symbolic. Even if the warmth of his chest and the curtain of her own hair were comforting, she didn't need to hide from him.
 
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Her chin was tilted upward, gently so, until Cora could meet his gaze. Mako was smiling, soft and somber. His eyes were glistening too, with quiet tears.

They stayed like that for a while, pressed together, silently mourning the tribulations that had forcefully molded them into different people.

There was relief to be had in the realization that through it all, they still managed to fit together. The time they'd spent with one another could not be erased by the trauma they'd experienced.

Cora's breathing gradually steadied. She wiped at her face with the back of her hand, tears smudging her mascara, eyes glassy and red from crying.

"I hate him." She whispered. "I hate him so much for what he did to me. I'm glad he's dead, but I feel terrible to have killed him."

"I must look like a proper mess."
She murmured, a faint thread of irritation weaving into her strained voice. Still stinging, her eyes darted around the room, but she didn't move her head from his chest.


"Tissue?"


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"I'll get you some in a moment," he said quietly. For their time apart, he would be happy to let his gaze settle upon her for as long as he could, no matter the state of her makeup. He had missed her more than he could put into words.

Makko balled some of his tunic sleeve into his hand. He dabbed beneath her eyes and took away some of the dark, angry streaks.

"I'm glad he's dead," Makko admitted. "You should hate him for what he did Cora.

"You...you're one of the bravest and most noble people I ever met."

His words had been chosen carefully, contrasting her to her husband who had supposedly been the noble Prince.

"It's right that you hate him. Of course what he did hurts and you never deserved that. But you'll be...you'll be amazing and you'll do so much good. I want...you as...you should be who you are, those feelings and everything you are. Just don't let him ruin your future too. He wasn't worth that."

Makko took a slow, deep breath to steady himself. He had corrected his mistep and been as honest as he could be. It wasn't about him at all. She would had said it more eloquently, he silently reflected.

He awkwardly reached for the bedside drawer without putting any space between them. Makko offered her a box of tissues.

"Stay a little?" he offered. "We can watch something else or just talk."
 
As Makko gently swiped his sleeve underneath her eyes, Cora realized that there was still a tenderness to them that the galaxy hadn't crushed. It was warming. He was warm. He always had been, even if it was hard to see at times.

The gestures between them were small and intimate, but each carried the weight of what had developed between them over years. His fingers through her hair, her hand curling into his shirt. She'd forgotten what it had felt like to be loved so wholly by someone who knew her so well.

"Even if who I am is sometimes ugly?"

She smiled, bitterly. But it was still a smile. Makko was right - she shouldn't let someone like Horace ruin her future. What he'd done had become a part of her, but it didn't have to rule her. Horace didn't deserve that power.

“I’ll stay.” Cora took the box of tissues and settled it atop Makko's abdomen. She took one, two, then three all in the same hand and began to dab at her messy face.

"I really missed you." She admitted quietly, from the bottom of her heart and all of the affection she still had for him. "Through all of it."

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