Rainspire | Parrlay
Aurelian Veruna
Acier Moonbound
Sibylla stood very still, confusion knitting her brows as she looked between Tona and the small chaos engine perched atop the coffee table.
Tic balanced there on spindly feet, the BD unit's little head swiveling back and forth with soft chirrs, optics flicking from Sibylla to Tona and back again like a spectator at a match he did not understand but deeply suspected involved yelling with concerned beeps.
Sibylla herself was dressed in little more than a pale muslin gown, light enough that it barely felt real against her skin. She lifted one hand slightly, as if she might ask a question, then let it fall again. Whatever was happening, it had already outrun explanation.
Aurelian -- for all that she adored him -- had gone entirely,
unrepentantly overprotective.
He had seen to everything. Meals were placed in her hands even when she insisted she was not hungry. Water and tea pressed upon her between conversations. Bandages checked and rechecked with meticulous care, his touch careful, reverent. And he had refused,
absolutely refused, to take so much as a step beyond the threshold of the room for more than a few moments at a time.
Even now, the remnants of their last attempt at normalcy lingered with a half-finished game of sabacc, cards fanned and trinkets used as credits forgotten. He had been trying to teach her the rules -- or more importantly, how to bluff without giving herself away. It had devolved quickly into relentless teasing, Aurelian cataloguing her tells with infuriating precision and far too much amusement.
Then the scream of a TIE fighter tore overhead.
The piercing sound cut through the room overhead even through the soundproofing, that was how close the starfighter had screamed past Rainspire's roofline. Aurelian had been on his feet instantly, chair scraping back and his expression tightening into calm, cold and lethal precision. He had issued a single, unmistakable order to Tona to ensure Sibylla's safety before striding from the room, weaponry already in hand.
Not that Sibylla was ever very good at sitting still.
She had moved quickly, gathering a robe and slipping her arms into the soft sleeves, her feet finding slippers as if by instinct. Aurelian's chambers crowned one of Rainspire's vast and airy towers, with its wide arched stone windows opening to a full sweeping view that revealed the estate, the sea cliffs beyond, and the city of Parrlay and its port cascading down below in lights and spires.
It was that view that betrayed everything.
She stepped closer to the window only for her breath to catch as she saw the TIE starfighter touch down. Guards surged forward with their weapons raised, their cries of alarm carrying faintly upward -- and that’s when she saw
him.
Shock-white dreads and black armor. Then the
unmistakable way he moved as he slipped from the pilot's seat.
Ace.
The color drained from her face.
Below, Aurelian advanced with determined strides with a rifle in one hand and a sword in the other, every inch of him a barrier meant to deny passage.
Shiraya no.
The thought barely had time to form before she was moving. Tona reached for her to try and block her path, but Sibylla pushed past, heart hammering as Tic bounded after her with distressed whistles.This was not about obedience. This was not about safety.
This was about stopping bloodshed, about stopping any chance of death.
Panic burned through her veins, dragging memory with it -- the clash between Cassian and Aurelian, the blood on stone, the way fury had nearly consumed them both. How close it had come. How she had been the only thing standing between them and something irreversible.
Aurelian had promised her he would try. That he would do better. But he did not know Ace or what he was capable of. He did not know the weight of the Force that Ace could bring to bear.
Her feet pounded down the stone stairwell, hair flying loose behind her, nightdress and robe fluttering and clinging with every frantic step.
Even before she emerged into the open air, she felt it -- the pressure building, the Force bleeding outward like a gathering storm.
Wind whipped around her as she burst onto the terrace, chestnut strands snapping against her face, robe pulled tight against her slender frame, as wide panicked hazel eyes locked onto the scene before her.
Ace stood wreathed in pale blue light, his lightsaber humming, aura bleeding outward. Aurelian faced him, sword raised with bulwark determination, a man prepared to become a wall or a grave.
"STOP! Both of you!" Sibylla cried out in a raw and urgent tone as she ran toward them. Guards shifted immediately, some turning as if to intercept her, Aurelian's orders ringing clear in their minds.
She swung an arm sharply, knocking one grasp aside, eyes wild beneath the tumble of loose hair framing her heart-shaped face. The synthskin along the left side of her cheek and brow caught the light -- stark against her blanched skin. Raw. Ragged. Healing.
But alive.
"Ace. Aurelian, please," she pleaded, breathless as she closed the distance, the flash of Kenari still hot in her mind. Shiraya didn't need a reenactment.
"...lower your weapons. Both of you. "