Private "That Private School Education"

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

Gatz was exhausted. Physically, yes. But also in every other way. A year of suffering had left him with nothing to give. He'd been beaten, stabbed, shot, burned, poisoned, mauled, and abandoned. He'd buried both his mother and his uncle. Sold his family home to fund his one man war against a crime lord. Starved. Nearly collapsed from exhaustion. And everyone just expected him to keep going, smile plastered on his face.

He was just tired.

The hand on top of his reminded Gatz that someone cared. But it also reminded him that he had to keep going. There was nothing else to do. It was that... or die. And while the cold embrace of death was probably what he deserved, Gatz usually wasn't too keen on kicking the bucket. Maybe he didn't have anything to live for these days—not on his lonesome and without his family—but he couldn't die just yet. He hadn't done enough good yet.

That was it. That was his sole reason for pushing forward. He took no joy in it, but at least he had purpose. For now, that would have to be enough.

"What that shadow did was wrong. Riggs didn't deserve to die. I'm so sorry – no wonder you left."

"It was a long time ago," Gatz sighed, "and it happened before Valery cleaned house. It shouldn't matter anymore."

Because, really, what could he do about it? He couldn't track down the Shadow—she was a Shadow. Anonymity was basically the point. And even if he did miraculously learn her identity, what was he going to do? Even if he was capable of taking on a full-fledged Jedi, violence wasn't their way. Killing her would just be one more murder under his belt, and he still had night terrors about the last one.

All that was left was to forgive, and let go. But Gatz couldn't do that. Not for the last fifteen years, and certainly not now. Maybe not ever.

"Besides... what right do I have to judge? My hands aren't clean either."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

It shouldn't matter anymore.

Cora didn't have the words to oppose that thought – to her, it should matter. Riggs' murder was a formative event for Gatz, one that had shaped much of his life. Perhaps she was too accustomed to holding on to painful memories. It was like gripping a hot coal for warmth: the longer and tighter you held onto it, the more it burned you.

"That doesn't mean that you can't recognize right from wrong, Gatz." She insisted softly.

The Knight didn't know the extent of what he'd done, but she could see how he wore the weight of his shame in the sag of his shoulders and in every crease of his expression. It hurt to see a friend like this, and she'd of taken away the unpleasant feelings if she could.

"What kind of Jedi do you want to be?"

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

He could recognize right from wrong. Cora was correct. It was the whole reason he was here; the whole reason Valery had been able to inspire him to be better in the first place. His sins would follow him wherever he chose to go. Gatz knew that. He couldn't be rid of them, anymore than he could be rid of the scars that crossed his body.

But did his past have to hold him down? That, Gatz did not know. He wanted to move forward, to leave his mistakes in the past, but did he have that right? Could he really hurt and kill so many people, and then just move on? Was that the decent thing to do? Or would it be better to hold onto those sins, and remember them, so that he would never repeat them?

That too, Gatz did not know.

"What kind of Jedi do you want to be?"

That, however, Gatz did know.

"The kind that heals, instead of hurts. Because I've hurt a lot of people, even in the pursuit of doing better, and I can't do it anymore." Gatz sighed, exhausted, "I want to be a Jedi like Amani Serys . I want to alleviate pain, not be the cause of it. Put people back together, not rip them apart."

Of course, things were never simple for him. What he desired most was out of reach—always just beyond his grasp. Mediocrity was a curse, and he'd been burdened with it his whole life.

"And so naturally, the one thing I excel at is swinging an oversized glowstick at people, and the thing I struggle the most with is Force Healing. Even with Master Serys-Organa's guidance, I fail. She's not my Master, but I keep yanking her away from Eloise Dinn —her actual student—as if she was. She even flew out to New Cov just to show my dumb ass how to heal a papercut. And all for nothing. I'm still a failure of a Jedi Healer."

Gatz snorted derisively at himself.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

He wanted to be a healer. Cora's surprise showed in lifted brows, which slowly settled as Gatz explained further. At first she'd pegged him for the type to be more interested in combat given his previous lifestyle, but that was a shallow perception. He wanted to use his gifts to heal. It was a noble pursuit.

It made sense, for someone who was trying to repent for his sins. But, he was struggling in his more medical pursuits.

"You've only just come back, Gatz. Please, try to be a little kinder to yourself. If not for you, then for me."

He was being so hard on himself for things that weren't entirely within his control and- oh. Sometimes similarities could sting.

"I'm sure Master Serys-Organa didn't become the healer that she is in a day. Or a week, or even a year."

She wasn't particularly close with Amani, but the healer had seen her through an early miscarriage while she was on Ukatis. You didn't go through something like that with someone without forming a bond of sorts.

Cora cleared her throat and took a long sip of tea to dispel the feelings surrounding that particular situation.

"Did you end up healing the paper cut?"

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

It was blatantly obvious by the expression on her face that Cora was surprised. Gatz understood why.

"I know. Surprising that scum like me would want to mend wounds instead of make them, right?" Gatz snorted at himself.

That didn't bother him as much as it used to. Gatz had long since accepted that there would always be a stigma in regards to him. He was the scoundrel, the smuggler, the Hutt thug who had stolen, beaten, and killed over spice. He would always be viewed through a lens of suspicion and wariness, and rightfully so. He'd earned that much scrutiny. Earned more than that, even.

"You've only just come back, Gatz. Please, try to be a little kinder to yourself. If not for you, then for me."

But Cora didn't care. She was here anyways. Oh, he hadn't made the greatest first impression with her. She'd been very unhappy to learn of the kind of man he used to be. Yet, here she was: offering him more faith and kindness than he could offer himself, in spite of knowing exactly who he was. Gatz didn't know what to do with that. Accepting her trust felt like stealing from her, because he knew he would inevitably let her down.

He accepted it anyways. Gatz wondered if that would come back to haunt her.

"I'll try." Gatz promised, "I don't know if I can do it for me yet... but I can try to do it for you."

Doing things for his friends, as few as they numbered, had always been easier than doing things for himself. Or, rather, doing things for his friends had become easier in this last year or so.

"I did manage to heal it," Gatz answered Cora's question, "but it left me trembling, shivering, and sweating. And I haven't improved at all since coming back to the Order. Maybe it's just not in me."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora looked a little sheepish when Gatz called out what she'd been thinking- in a nonthreatening way. She visibly brightened when he agreed to try and be kinder to himself.

"Maybe." She said, but it didn't sound like much of an agreement. "It's true that not everyone is cut out for everything, but you've barely even given yourself a chance. Someday you’ll be able to heal a paper cut without thinking about it, I bet.”

Cora thought back to when she'd been a fresh faced Padawan, eager to prove herself as a scion of Ukatis. It was true that there were some things she'd picked up easily - but she'd also spent much of her early life in pursuit of perfection. Her father would've accepted nothing less, and even now it was difficult to shake the expectations she'd grown up with.

Another sip of tea helped her to work through that thought.

"When I was…oh, I had to be new to the Order." Her eyes rolled upwards in thought as if trying to recount her exact age. "I, er, developed a rather…unpleasant habit during tense situations. When confronting the Dark, I'd become quite nauseous."

Her cheeks were ruby red now, recalling the embarrassment she'd felt, among other things.

Cora placed an elbow on the table and cradled her forehead in her fingers.

"I once got sick all over poor BB-610 while we faced a Sith on Selvaris."

The mortification had been intense. Fortunately, the astromech had been as good of a sport as one could be whilst covered in vomit.

Straightening up, Cora took a pointed sip of her tea, extra lady-like.

"That phase lasted a bit longer than I'd have liked."

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

There it was again: that bright, beautiful smile. Gatz wondered if Cora knew how easily she could light up a room. He suspected that she didn't; suspected that her own self-deprecation prevented her from realizing just how kind and warm she was. He wished that he knew how to tell her. Wished he knew the right words to explain just how much she meant to him in this moment; how her compassion, faith, and patience could change everything for a man who had nothing.

But Gatz had always struggled with honesty. So instead, he just smiled back.

"I guess I can keep trying. For a while longer."

It was more a promise to her than it was to himself. Gatz had long since stopped believing in himself, his own inherent goodness, and his prospects as a Jedi. He had always known what he was: a failure who wasted everyone's time. It was no wonder no one had been interested in taking him as their Padawan learner. They could see that he wouldn't succeed. They knew he would give up eventually.

They were probably right. But he would try a while longer. If Cora believed in him, and was willing to put her spare time into him, then he at least owed her that much.

Then came the embarrassing story. It brightened Gatz's smile just a little bit more. Made him realize that he was smiling in the first place, and that for once, it was genuine. Gatz couldn't even picture Cora throwing up, not when she'd always been the picture of perfection. Not a hair out of place, not since the day he'd met her and they'd butted heads.

But she wasn't perfect. Hearing her admit that... well, Gatz supposed it made him feel more comfortable about his own failings.

"Poor Bee. But if it makes you feel any better, the first time I faced a Sith Knight, she tossed me around like a ragdoll. My back was tweaked for weeks—I couldn't even walk normally—which was a mercy compared to what she would have done to me if Valery hadn't killed her."

That adventure seemed like a lifetime ago. Maybe it was.

"Cora," Gatz started slowly, "I don't know if I'm worth your time and effort. Most people have decided that I'm not. But... I'll try my best to be."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora winced a little at the mention of being ragdolled by a Sith Knight. They didn't have a whole lot in common, but that she knew the feeling of well. There were few things like facing down the dark side of the Force, especially given how falling to it lurked right over their shoulders.

At one not-too-distant point, she'd felt the hand of the dark putting pressure on her shoulder. Fortunately, she'd been pulled away before it could sink its claws into her proper.

She exhaled, long and slow.

"Thank the Force for Valery Noble, right?"

The Master Jedi had her own share of struggles when training, but it was harder to picture when they'd only known her as a beacon of Light.

Still, everyone had to start somewhere.

When Gatz said her name again, Cora brought her focus onto his face. He looked so tired in more ways than once, but there was a spark of determination in his features that hadn't been there before.

"Of course you're worth the time and effort - you're my friend, Gatz."

Even if things didn't go as planned. Cora wasn't sure if she'd be an effective teacher or not, and was perhaps more nervous than she let on.

"Before I start tutoring you in earnest, I want you to try and develop a decent sleeping pattern. And eating better, too. You won't retain as much if you're tired and hungry."

Cora paused, a thought hitting her.

"Take time to relax, too. Schedule it in, even. I find a routine to be quite helpful."

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

Gatz wanted to agree with Cora's sentiment. That he was better off with Valery in his life, especially after all she had done for him. He wouldn't be the man he was today without her. And while he still wasn't sure that whomever he was now was a good man, he was still light years ahead of the prick he'd been before meeting her. That man cared only about credits, and his next shipment.

But... Gatz couldn't pretend that Valery had only been a positive influence on his life. She hadn't been. Every scar that marred his body? He'd gotten them on his adventures with Valery. The bounty on his head? Placed there by Kragan, in retaliation because he and Valery had infiltrated his space station, and started freeing his slaves. Kragan murdering his Uncle? Well... Gatz knew that one was on him. But every other bad thing that had happened to him this last year, had happened because he had tried to follow her example.

They had only ever done the right thing. But if he hadn't been seeking Valery's approval, he'd never have been in those situations at all. It wasn't her fault, per se, but there had been pain in his life because of Valery. She'd never intended any of that to happen, and she helped whenever she could. But Gatz wasn't sure if what she'd done for him balanced out all the pain she'd inadvertently caused him.

"Thank the Force for Valery Noble," Gatz echoed anyways. Because, in truth, he'd be dead ten times over without her. And sure, nine of those times he'd only been at death's door because he was with her in the first place, but she'd still saved him in the end.

Some people were worth the trouble.

Cora made it clear that she wanted him to eat and sleep properly. She'd even offered to schedule it out for him, earlier. Gatz wasn't going to go as far as to actually make her do that, because that was selfish and he was an adult. He could handle that on his own. Leisure time, however, was something that Gatz simply wasn't accustomed to. Even as a criminal, he'd had little time for himself.

"Sleeping and eating properly I can do," Gatz admitted, "but I have no earthly idea how to relax. I'm... always moving; always doing something."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora's sympathetic smile stretched a touch awkward. It was silly, she thought, that she'd lecture someone on the virtues of relaxing when she herself found the task difficult.

"I suppose that makes me a bit of a hypocrite to have told you that."

There were little similarities to be found in a criminal fighting for his life and a noble daughter being preened as a good wife. A lack of leisure time, and the inability to know how to use it when they had it, was a thread that linked them.

"The truth is, I feel like I'm wasting time if I'm not doing something productive." She admitted by way of agreement. "It helps to think of leisure time as a task. Try picking a time in the evening, and stop doing any work after that. Usually I read, but sometimes Makko and I…"

Cora trailed, following a string of memories to the Denonite's room. It was nice to have time to relax with him, and the two often caught up on the latest holodramas, among other things.

Crimson heat bloomed across pale cheeks.

"…watchshows." She finished quickly, raising the tea cup to her lips for a dainty sip.

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

It was Gatz's experience that the rich were typically pros at being idle, with Briana being the single exception he knew of. So it came as a surprise to hear that Cora was just as bad as he was at taking time to herself. But then... it shouldn't have been. Because this wasn't some rich girl sitting in front of him. She was a Jedi Knight, and one with a traumatic past at that.

"There was always another bill to pay." Gatz explained quietly, "the mortgage on the house, the loan dad took against the ship, utilities, food. And those were the inexpensive ones. Mom's medical debt just kept piling up, and I couldn't smuggle enough spice to keep up. If I wasn't running a load, then I was bleeding money we didn't have."

It was funny: he thought of those times as 'the good ole days.' They were anything but. Those days were full of fear and adrenaline, killing people who either tried to steal his cargo, or take his life. And then there were the beatings—Hutts loved having their employees beaten when they didn't perform a task "adequately."

But as shitty as those things were... they were better than all the near-death experiences he'd had in the past year, spent repenting. At least his family had still been alive at the time.

Gatz watched Cora's face flush as she described what she and Makko did in their leisure time. "Watching shows" his ass. He just took a sip of his noodles, letting his worn-out brain churn up something funny to say to that. But he was too tired for good humor.

Bad humor it was.

"Huh. You always struck me as one of those 'after marriage, and with a sheet between us' kind of prudes. I'm surprised."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Ah. That's what it was. A lifetime of being productive because that was what he had to do in order to survive. It was probably next to impossible to turn off muscle memory like that.

"That must've been hard, Gatz. So much pressure on a child."

Even after being cut off from the family funds, the Alliance took care of her main expenses and Lady Velvet novels kept her comfortable enough. Cora had never known what it was like to struggle financially, to choose between paying the electric bill or buying groceries. She would never know the specific type of strain Gatz had been under, so all she could do was imagine what it must have been like in his shoes. All the pain he'd been through at such a young age to support his family.

"You sound like a good son."

To his crude comment, her brow scrunched.

"Would the sheet not preclude you from…"

Clearing her throat awkwardly, Cora cast her gaze to the side. She and Makko had begun to build a relationship before her arraigned marriage, and they'd managed to pick up where they'd left off now that she was free of Horace's grip.

"…n-nevermind."

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

Gatz had to turn it off. But he didn't know how to stop, and never had. There was always another hurdle to jump, another challenge to meet, another sin to commit in the name of his family. He didn't even know if he had any hobbies, aside from reading the occasional book during a hyperspace jump. Gatz couldn't remember what leisure felt like, or what 'fun' was supposed to be.

Always another job. Always another tragedy. Always more pain to withstand.

"You sound like a good son."

"I don't know about that," Gatz said quietly, "I did some pretty shitty things in her name. All for her to die anyways. They all died anyways."

He sighed. Gatz thought that being at the Temple might drive away that loneliness. But it didn't. Nothing ever would. Cora, Valery, Briana, Lossa, Makko, Master Serys-Organa, Master Ryiah—it didn't matter how many people he surrounded himself with. He was still alone. He still didn't belong. He could attach himself to Valery's hip, devote himself to Briana's family, take up studying primarily at the Vonnuvi Enclave—but none of it would matter.

He was still the outcast. The man standing at the edge of the circle, because there was no real room in it for him. Because the truth was, they were all good and decent.

He wasn't.

"Would the sheet not preclude you from…"

And just like that, those dark thoughts were banished from mind, replaced with an amused snort. Maybe he didn't belong with his friends, but as long as they were around, Gatz would cling to them. Any happiness, however fleeting, was worth stealing. Such things rarely lasted for him, after all.

"I can draw you a diagram if you really want, but I can only do stick figures. I'm not much of an artist."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Inwardly, Cora wondered if she should press Gatz further with her insistence that perhaps, his heart had been in the right place. Protecting family at any cost was a concept she could understand, one that had nearly burned her to ash.

The little nuances, she guessed, were different between their respective situations. So she didn't push, but offered Gatz a sympathetic look with both hands clasped around her mug. Lifting it to her lips, she took another sip as Gatz made a rather clarifying offer.

Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of beetroot, and she pulled away from the cup with a choking sputter. One hand clamped over her mouth, and she swallowed heavily.

It was good to see him perk up a little, even at the expense of her more old-fashioned mindset.

Which, perhaps, wasn't so old-fashioned at all.

"I-I know how it works." She hissed. "I shan't be needing such crude illustrations regarding…"

Cora straightened, trying to regain a little of the stateliness she'd lost.

"…the marital act."

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

Cora was left red and sputtering. Gatz decided that it was a good look for her.

She was such a prude. So unlike all the people he'd known during his less-than-legal days. Honestly, Gatz found it refreshing. Mostly because it meant he had yet another way to tease her and get under her skin, which was quickly becoming his favorite pastime. But also because she was just... different from the usual kinds of people he spent his time around.

And, he would never admit this out loud, but it helped that she was very cute when she was embarrassed. Though, he had no interest in a long winded lecture, or being pummeled by Makko, or betraying his affections for Lossa, so Gatz decided that was one secret that he would keep to himself. But he was definitely going to do his best to elicit more reactions from her.

He had to entertain himself somehow, after all.

That being said, Gatz had intended to move on from the topic, and spare her more mortification. At least, until she described sex as 'the marital act,' which left him snickering, and then choking on his noodles.

"You're supposed to be married when you hook up?" Gatz managed to get out through gasps, "well shit, I've been doing it wrong my entire adult life!"

He finally got past his mixture of laughing and suffocating on noodles, and set down his food with a satisfied sigh. He was still exhausted, but Gatz felt lighter than he had in a month.

"And to think we were only seconds from strangling each other when we first met," Gatz mused, a small smile on his face, "...thanks for putting up with me, Princess. I know it's rotten work. But it means a lot to me."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Blue eyes went wide as he choked on his noodles, then narrowed into a glare. The effects of which were likely dulled by the beet red flush across her cheeks.

"Well, you're not a Ukatian noble so I suppose that you get a pass."

As a fresh faced Padawan, Cora had learned that not everyone in the galaxy followed Ukatian customs. Despite the fact that she was now far less sheltered, she still held on to some of her native mannerisms.

Including awkwardness around the topic of sex.

The bright side was that Gatz was laughing, and a mild wave of embarrassment was a small price to pay in order to see a friend feeling better.

"Mm, you're not the only one." That information came with a sip of tea. "Makko and I were at eachother's throats when we'd first met."

Her expression warmed when Gatz thanked her, to which Cora met with a smile.

"My friends helped me when I was…in a bad place. Bad places. So why wouldn't I do the same for one of my own friends?"

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

If he made the poor woman any more red she was liable to burst. Or, worse: revoke her offer to help him. So Gatz decided to rein himself in, if only for today. Embarrassing Cora had definitely found itself on his list of 'things to do regularly,' but that would quickly lose its luster if he blew all of his fun too early.

Better to space things out. Cora knew not the mercy he had just granted her. As it turned out, scoundrels like him were capable of restraint after all.

"My friends helped me when I was…in a bad place. Bad places. So why wouldn't I do the same for one of my own friends?"

"Oh, I never thought that you wouldn't. I only questioned if I should bother you with my problems."

Well... when she put it like that, Gatz felt stupid for second guessing her decision. Helping others—friend or otherwise—was simply the decent thing to do, and Cora was a good person. And decent folk always helped each other out, and they always paid it forward. Gatz supposed that he just didn't feel deserving of the amount of time and attention he was asking of her.

Naturally, she disagreed. That was very... Cora of her.

And it was also very kind.

Gatz stood and began to gather his empty cup and his trash, and then held out his hand to take Cora's cup if she'd finished her tea. The least he could do after she'd fed and watered him was wash the dishes so she didn't have to. And he even held back a joke about asking the Princess if she even knew how to wash the dishes.

Really, it was a silent sign of how much he liked Cora that he wasn't constantly poking fun about her affluent background.

"Hey," Gatz spoke up as he turned on the faucet, "if you don't mind me asking: how did a Princess wind up becoming a Jedi?"

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora passed him her empty cup with a thankful nod, rising from her seat when Gatz did so. While he began rinsing, she tidied the area – which was mostly just ensuring that the communal napkins on the counter were sitting straight.

Though she had a penchant for things being clean and neat, Cora had only learned to clean up after herself when she'd joined the Jedi. There'd always been a maid or servant to take care of the dirty work at the Ascania estate.

She'd quickly purchased a pair of rubber gloves after her first time washing dishes. No need to get pruney.

"Oh," Cora's head tilted to the side in thought. It was an unexpected question, but it didn't feel like a loaded one. "I was a Jedi before I became a Princess, actually. When Ukatis was in talks with the Alliance about joining, my father sent me to the Jedi as a sort of goodwill gesture. I suppose it looked nice on the wife resume when he managed to negotiate my engagement a few years later. I still wish they'd let me finish my training first. Then maybe I would have…"

She was leaning against the counter now, sinking a little more into her reflections on the past. Would things had been different if she'd gone into her royal marriage as a fully trained Jedi Knight? Would there have even been a marriage in the first place?

"And well, you know the rest." Cora rolled her wrist, indicating the unsaid portion of that predicament that Gatz knew. The murder, her imprisonment, her return to the Jedi. "I'm still not entirely sure if I'm even a Princess anymore. After the Jedi intervened on my behalf, the crown was hesitant to denounce me fully. Declared the whole thing an accident. Then the invasion happened, and I levered my social position to do what I could."

She shrugged, then tapped at her temple. "I think I just made it sound complicated."

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

"Your father did what?"

Gatz wished he could say that he had a good sabacc face. But he didn't.

Surprise, and then revulsion were clear on his visage as Cora explained the circumstances that led her to becoming both Jedi and Princess. Her father had shipped her off to the Jedi—seemingly not because it was the best place for her, but because it secured a political alliance. And then again when he threw her at her he-who-would-never-be-named—the man who'd hurt her.

Her father had... had whored her out as a political bargaining tool. Twice.

The mug in Gatz's hand shattered, porcelain slicing his palm open. He recoiled with a hiss, and immediately checked the wound for any debris. He found none. Gatz could have probably healed this wound, if he'd been well rested and not malnourished. Trying now though would just end in failure... or something worse. So instead, he stuck his hand back under the faucet and reached for the liquid soap.

"I'm sorry," Gatz offered, as if trying to gloss over the fact that he'd just shattered a mug for her, "that... shouldn't have happened to you. And I'm sorry to have asked about it. I know memories of your... former situation aren't exactly a pleasant thing to retread."

Silently, Gatz added Cora's father to the list of people he wished he could beat. Right under her abusive (and dead) ex-spouse. Sometimes it was a real shame that he'd turned over a new leaf.

"For what it's worth though: Ukatis is luck to have a princess—former or otherwise—who cares about her people as much as you do. And you seem pretty stately, so you probably would have made for a good Queen. So... if you ever attempt a coup, call me. I'll bring drinks."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Gatz dropped the mug, and it shattered to pieces. No, wait, that wasn't right – the crack had sounded before porcelain shards slipped from his hand and hit the sink.

That, and his hand was bleeding.

Cora reached toward him, paused, then started rummaging through the kitchenette drawers. Jedi were injury prone, so there would have to be bandages somewhere. Moving around helped to gather her thoughts given she hadn't expected Gatz's intense reaction. She visibly blanched when he dropped the word Queen.

"I was happy to come to Coruscant, you know. Even if it was at the behest of my father."

It was quite common, even expected, for noble families to use their children as pawns in the bloody chess game that was the Ukatian court. Greed and power consolidation played a part, but it was also necessary for survival. Cora often forgot that outside of her home, such acts were considered to be a hideous infringement on one's personal freedom.

The Knight retrieved a roll packet of sterile gauze and shrugged.

"That's just the way things are back home; the commonfolk depend on the ruling nobles for survival, so we do whatever we can to ensure that our families and people are safe. Even if the things we must do are sometimes unpleasant and require sacrifice."

After Gatz had washed the cut, Cora motioned for his hand so that she could pack the wound with gauze. She was certainly no healer, but every Jedi knew basic first aid.

"I know not every aristocrat fulfils that ideal, and that greed leads to corruption and the suffering of those we're supposed to protect. I know that now, at least. But we're taught that everything we do is in service to our people. Maybe I'm incredibly naïve to believe that, but things did change for the better in Ascania territory when I was married."

Gatz Derrevar