Private Chains of Eros: Unspoken

[Briana Sal-Soren]

“My entire life is a perpetual loop of constant longing.”
[ Takes place just before Crisis on Cato Neimoidia ]​

Themes: XoXo
Tag: Vizion Trozky

The invitation extended to Briana with her name embossed on an elegantly scrawled holo-card for an evening event hosted by a prestigious Hapan Noble family, came as a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. Due to a litany of rigorous studies, Jedi training, and the reins of familial duty that'd fallen to her, Briana often didn't have the time to attend frivolous events like these unless it was absolutely necessary.

In this case, learning the social climate of the world her family intended to stay on, seemed necessary enough to make a polite appearance.

The chateau was beautifully bedecked in evergreen wreaths, draping florals, and several garlands. Twin banquet tables flanked either side of the massive space, overflowing with various types of exotic foods as sparkling drinks filtered from the bar, carried on the trays of many a scantily clad service man.

She pushed her way through the crowds with the practiced ease of having attended these types of events her entire life, trailed by two young Hapan sisters that she'd managed to befriend on Ossus before tonight - Arina, and Trina. Like all Hapan women, they had impeccable genetics. Tall, thin, and strikingly beautiful - it was almost a sin that so many got to luck out on the genetic lottery, just by being Hapan. As it was, Briana had learned that the two girls were quite the gossipers and eavesdroppers, and they'd eagerly agreed to accompany Sal-Soren as a means of helping Briana better fit into the conversational orbit of the Hapan nobility, letting them steer the evening of hob-knobbing and social networking.

Little by little, as the evening pulled on, Briana felt herself settling into a rhythm, learning more about the tricky affairs of Hapan politics.

But, it wasn't all work.

Arina had been the first to point out the surprising appearance of a mutual friend they shared, begging Briana as she turned away from a conversation she'd been entangled in, to request that their small group make their way to the bar and pick up the young man whom Arina had set her sights on. Taking it as her que to get away from a mind numbingly boring conversation, Briana apologetically, and quickly, excused herself.

It should have been simple. Ten steps to the bar, grab a couple drinks, pick up their other friend along the way.

That was all she needed to do before getting back to her evening.

Instead, she slowed to a stop, feeling her heart thrum as a familiar warmth broke through her sub-conscious.

She knew the face from across the crowd. Knew the deep brown eyes, expressive, and bright in just about any light, those loose dark locks and sharp cheekbones. Knew the limbs that had grown from scrawny and lanky to a more streamlined power after years of hard training with Merrick. Even without feeling his signature in the Force, she could pick him out of any crowd.

Viz.

They had barely seen one another since Naboo, and hadn’t spoken on the subject of her disappearance since she’d come back.

For weeks now, Briana had quietly sequestered herself away during the times he would visit Ossus, effectively avoiding any expectations that may have come along with seeing him - afraid he was waiting for an answer that she didn’t have to give. A hundred thoughts raced through her head as she stood there in her indecision, the eyes of her companions searing into her backside like a hot iron against flesh, until finally, one of them gave her a slight nudge to the ribs, reminding her to start walking again.

Breath it out.

Approaching, Briana mustered a genuine smile for her two friends, fingers curling into her hand to make a fist, distracting her from her nerves. “Well isn't this an unexpected surprise?” She tried to keep the tone of her voice light and airy, attempting to dispel the weight of what had been left unspoken like it was nothing. “Having a good time already?” Briana’s defined brow arched, her gaze motioning towards their two glasses as a slight smirk found its way over the rose of her lips, accentuating the faint dimple at the corner.

 

[Vizion Trozky]

TIMEFRAME: Prior to Crisis on Cato Neimoidia
THEME: All This Time
TAGS: Briana Sal-Soren

Note: Vizion is still a padawan at this point.

When he received the holocard to this elegant event, embossed with his exact name and title, he was momentarily confused. He never gave his title, but anyone who dug just a little would find that out well enough, yet this still didn't explain why he would be on the guest list for an event in the Hapes Consortium of all places. A moment's consideration provided some form of answer: it was a matter of his connections, the circles he grew up in, the friends and acquaintances he made. It would be almost impossible to put a finger on it, but he'd been thought of, and the invitation required a reply. He'd almost declined it without further consideration, on account of his schedule, but an idle perusal of the guestlist while drawing up the proper, kind decline was quick to change his mind, without a mote of hesitation. All for one person - her.

This had gone on long enough.

On arrival, however, he found that he wasn't the only one pulled into this frivolous evening, and this perhaps shed a little more light on the reason for his own invitation, which was amusing in itself, but it made even less sense that the other guy, a 'friend' of his, was here. He had to wonder what went on in the minds of Hapan girls... regardless, here they were and after close to a half-hour at the bar, sipping whisky and trying to educate the younger guy on the finer points of approaching a girl, when the girl in question was his… his best and oldest friend, as much being made bare and clear by his 'friend’s' own admission, was an exercise in self-control, careful self-management, but it wasn’t exactly the first time he’d swallowed jealousy and what that feeling tried and failed to convince him to do. It was just easier now than it used to be.

“So, it’s all about confidence,” something that no-one was born with, “and…” but then his 'friend' wasn’t paying attention anymore, the younger’s nervous and awestruck gaze turned outward, away from the bar, body turning to follow. Vizion followed his line of sight just as she spoke, her voice drawing Viz’s own gaze sharply to the source, to the sheer vision of her, only for the stress of the convergence of her beauty and the other guy alongside him to strip away all but the most necessary layers of his control, allowing the burning in his mind to seep into his gaze as he consumed all of her with a singular look. A bare once-over he had never before dared to let her catch him in…

“Briana,” came the calm, though faintly strained invocation, the corners of his lips rising with the speaking of it as his eyes rose to meet her face, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Months. Months he had resisted, respecting her wishes. Honouring her request. Worrying over her wellbeing. Months, when he could have just reached out and discovered where she was at any point in time. The lack of contact, like a parched desert, was a stark, unbearable contrast to the wellspring of years of only being just a holo away... and now, a distance that wasn’t there before. Seeing movement out the corner of his eye - perhaps his ‘friend’ was trying on some confidence? - Vizion slipped from the barstool, long legs carrying him forward with nary a thought.

“But it’s been so long since the last time we danced…” he stepped closer with each of these words, until he was standing before her, close enough to touch but not giving in to the urge, “…that it’s hazy. Dance with me, Briana. Refresh my memory.”

The corners of his lips backed down, his brow creasing ever so slightly, seeing hesitation in her face that tore at his façade - he held out his hand, pressing the need of his request.

“Please.”

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

Themes: Vindsvept
Tag: Vizion Trozky

Had his gaze not been so piercing, Briana may have thought she’d imagined the way his eyes drifted lower than her face, sweeping over the sea green chiffon gown she wore with a predatory focus that made her feel utterly exposed.

What was that?

It was frightening. Heady. Intoxicating... Loud. It made her want to go to him, and run, all at the same time.

Briana tried keeping her expression impassive, mustering every fiber to not appear unnerved and quiet the wild rushing of blood in her ears. Beneath the mask, however, her pulse hummed. A simmering heat coursed through her veins, knocking away the icy chill that’d settled there these last several months and shattering it completely. Her face became awash in a soft pink that bloomed across her cheeks, cracking through the immovable layers she’d tried to burrow underneath and warming over her dusky skin. The damning evidence of her sudden shyness made her feel wholly ridiculous.

This was Vizion. Viz!

Her friend through many dangers, the boy who would crawl under that space beneath the rose bushes, thorns be damned, to come see her when she could not see him. The one she'd always loved to tease and taunt, but rebuffed her advances with some banter and a witty retort. Her noble friend, who was good, kind, and true. The stool swiveled, Vizion standing to step in closer with hardly a hand's breadth between them, the move seeming even more daring than the first as his familiar scent drifted between the breath they could have shared.

The rest of the world faded, everything drowned out but the question he posed and that extended hand. An invitation, a whisper, one that seemed to beg, ‘step out of the shadows with me’. As the last dance finished, the introductory strains of the next began, a harp strumming high and sweet, a summons to the floor in a misty countdown.

And though the music beckoned, silence filled the space between them. There was nothing overtly amatory about dancing with one another, as he said, they'd done it before - yet this time felt different than others.

The eyes of her two companions watched on with curiosity.

“Please.”

Oceanic eyes flickered upward to meet him at that simple request, paired with a look that told her he’d noticed the hesitation in her expression and wasn't sure how he'd hold it together if she said no. Briana felt through the bond that had always drawn them together that it ached from neglect, having spent too long trying to ease the guilt and despair that weighed on her own heart. The true extent of how broken she was inside - how unworthy she still felt in the ashes of what was left, was a secret bound against her soul.

Sooty lashes lowered to glance back to his hand, then up. Softly, Briana cleared her throat, a small smile creeping over her painted lips. “Of course I’ll dance with you,” her voice sounded more confident than she felt.

“Just don’t step on my feet this time.” her button nose crinkled up at him, trying to deflect with a ridiculous attempt at humor in the hopes that it would help diffuse some of the tension, or at least quell some of the awkwardness between them. They'd known each other their entire lives, and their relationship had always come so easy, naturally... but then why did this feel so difficult?

Then, as if the strings of the harp had wrapped itself around Briana’s arm, she raised it, gingerly placing her delicate fingers in his, feeling his rough-hewn hands curl around her, allowing him to lead her into the middle of the grand room and the heart of the celebration.

Without knowing it, some small, jagged piece in her soul, soothed.

 

[Vizion Trozky]

TIMEFRAME: Prior to Crisis on Cato Neimoidia
THEME: All This Time
TAGS: Briana Sal-Soren

Note: Vizion is still a padawan at this point.

Some part of Vizion released as if it were a held breath upon her acquiescence, but it was the way her nose wrinkled with her reference to the long past that brought forth an equally small smile on his own face, and when her fine fingers were laid in his waiting palm, his hand curled around them with a gentle firmness. Just enough to keep them in his grasp when he lifted her hand, as if they were the only two in this vast space, and pressed his lips to her smooth knuckles for a solitary, lingering moment.

“I won’t.”

The sum of his soft response, a thing vastly more of a statement than any kind of reassurance, was punctuated by the raising of his head, when his gaze flicked up to return to her face and eyes. Then, just before the rest of the strings began to join the harp, Vizion laid his other hand against the small of Briana’s back and led her out into the middle of the space within the grand room that was reserved for dancing.

This was different, and when he pulled her close, placing the hand he held upon his shoulder, his own hand retained a hold on it. Hesitating to let go. Different… and there his hand remained while he began to lead her through the steps of this dance, holding her not quite as close as he had in their shared sorrow, in the wake of that harrowing cataclysm. Before she had run away, and asked him in writing to not come looking.

The way the bond between them throbbed its dull pain more profoundly and sharply the longer he had wilfully ignored its pull, for her sake, had him questioning the worth of honouring her wishes in this one instance, at times. How often had he been tempted to break the silence? It felt like one of the hardest things he had ever done... and it shouldn't have been, trained as he was to let go. That was the inexplicable part.

“I missed you, Briana," an understatement that didn't cover the sheer extent of what burned beneath his surface, whatever that was; the depths his voice dropped into delivered his next words: "and now that I have you right here, the thought of releasing you again is--" he gave a little smile, "--undesirable." Finally releasing her hand as he said that one word, Vizion reached over to tuck a thick, dark strand back behind her ear, and continued, "But you appear to me so delicate and almost ethereal that I worry I might break you in some way if I don't, or see you vanish before my eyes if I do."

In a manner of speaking, the truth of his oft-present struggle. How he softened those edges with words. Honest, but not too honest.

"Silence shouldn't ache this much, Briana."