Chemical Romance

[Jairus Starvald]

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C O R U S C A N T​

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Agua District​

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[member="Irajah Ven"]​

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It was the day of the date.

Date-night.

The romantic get-away.

It is going to be a gorram disaster. The thought was there, but Carach did not allow it to gain purchase on him. What could truly go wrong right now? The food was ready and he had done his best with it. It was night, the spotlights high up in the old ceilings of the sector where shining like little stars.

This part of the district was quiet now.

Especially after he had cleared it out once or twice. It was a touch strange to be doing... 'grunt'-work, for as long as he remembered Carach always had minions. Footsoldiers. People sworn to do as he commanded no matter what it might be.

Now he worked alone.

Or rather now he worked with one other person.

Raj would arrive in the next ten minutes... that meant it was time to get himself ready. The roof of the workshop was already done, candle lights, some music ready to go... was it too much? Was he overthinking it? The morning after Ven had mentioned that they didn't actually need to go to a restaurant.

That anything was really fine.

He hated this. Ugh. With a few stomps the infamous Sith Lord went back inside, the door shutting behind him.

Time to get dressed.

 

[Kuzo]

It was ridiculous.

As the vehicle made it's way through Coruscant, the driver knowing where they were going, even if she didn't, Irajah plucked at an imaginary piece of lint off of her lap. Just for something to do.

Why was she nervous? She'd known [member="Carach"] for a year now. The first night they'd met had been, well, should have been far more embarrassing and fraught than dinner ought to be. And they weren't shy with each other, that was certain. Lovers, certainly, and more than occasionally. So what in the name of the maw made this unsettling?

Because, until recently, it had been casual, you can be honest with yourself, Raj.

She grimaced.

That was that. Somewhere, since her death, the way Carach had started to treat her- treat them- had changed. At first she had mostly ignored it. Then accepted, but didn't comment because that would make it real. But now?

She'd asked him out originally. Deliberately casual, not expecting anything but testing the waters. To see if this was actually shifting. Going somewhere. Apparently it was.

But did she want it to?

She liked what they had. No agreements that neither of them could keep. An understanding of the other without laying claim to. She liked this. Liked him. He mattered to her. But if they changed this.... well.... she didn't know what that would look like.

She had never been serious about someone. Never dated. Wooed, once certainly, and hadn't that been a disaster that had nothing to do with romance. Wondered, if someone that had left could have been something more, yes. But that was where it ended. That was the line. And here was Carach, standing now just beyond it, with his hand out to her. At least, that's what it seemed like. What if she was reading too far into it?

This was ridiculous.

The vehicle stopped, settling on top.... of a roof? She frowned slightly, a certain uncomfortable suspicion shifting through her. Too much had happened and it was difficult to not have that flash of paranoia. Hazel eyes swept quickly- and she relaxed, frown shifting to a surprised smile, when she saw the table, the candles.

The driver came around, opening the door.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

The driver might have opened the door, but it was Carach's hand assisting her in climbing out.

It wasn't often that the Sith Lord found himself without words.

After all, he had been the Voice, his words had conquered worlds when no fleet or army could, yet, here he was standing like school kid. Raj was looking up at him... curious? Expecting? No, what the Sith felt inside of her was the same nervous feeling he was experiencing. That made it easier. "You look stunning." Carach offered, before leading her along down the path towards the table. Behind them the driver and the car were already gone, already paid, not wishing to experience the awkwardness too much.

Once more Carach assisted, pulling the chair out, helping her sit down.

"I thought hard about what we could do." His stride took him around the table towards an adjacent one. It was there that all the food was loaded up. "A restaurant, a movie... a battlefield, an ancient crumbling library beneath an equally mysterious desert."

That last one was very specific.

Broad shoulders shrugged as several plates were carefully placed on the table. "Then I figured... maybe I could surprise you the most by cooking for you myself and leaving all the theatrics for another time?"

The musing was as much about telling himself that this wasn't the wrong choice. That he had gambled correctly... that she wasn't disappointed with what he had made here. A glance of the hand and the music started slowly playing in the background, candles lit and Carach himself settled down on the opposite side of the table.

"What do you think?"

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah had been mute from the moment he drew her out of the speeder until he sat down.

She'd simply absorbed it. The feeling of his hand drawing her up and the way he drew out the chair. He'd never done that before. The way he looked at her before offering the compliment. The insecurity lurking as surely as her own was. The realization that he had put all of this together by himself- he hadn't delegated to someone else- not just the placements of candles, the choice of music, but in preparing the food himself. Her stomach knotted with a surprisingly pleasant tightness.

But the amount of effort there was also, in a way, terrifying.

Not the same way someone else's had been. This was..... almost alarmingly normal. And for so long, the only times her life had been normal were when she had fought tooth and claw for it, or else simply pretended that it was. In the time before Gideon, Irajah had been normal. Her life had been unremarkable on the surface, and she might have gone her entire life as a doctor on a small, outback world, and never even feeling as thought she had been missing anything. She'd never longed for adventure. So to have him offer something like this....

It meant so much more than he could have imagined.

"It's perfect," she finally said, her voice quiet.

He had indeed surprised her.

And at the same time confirmed that, no, she wasn't reading too far. That maybe she hadn't been reading far enough.

"I don't think you could have come up with anything that would have been nicer than this."

She paused, smiling finally, genuine, a little unsure, but not because of him.

"It smells delicious," she added, deflecting to a slightly safer topic. "I didn't know you could cook."

[member="Carach"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

Anticipation and stress broke inside of him like a dam breached by momentum let loose through tide.

It wasn't perfect, of course. He hadn't been able to find the candles she liked so much, nor teach himself to play an instrument to play for her- You really need to calm down. Carach took a deep breath and managed to chuckle softly.

"A man can't be at war always, can't be hoarding artefacts forever." Another shrug. "Cooking let's me relax a bit, focus on the little things that can be just as crucial."

More salt or less?

Alcohol or not... plenty of choices.

"Do you like the song? I recalled you enjoyed this band." ...he hoped he had it right.

 

[Kuzo]

She nodded, not entirely trusting herself to speak for a moment. She hadn't really been paying that much attention to the music. It was quiet, background, and familiar enough due to regular listening that it was actually easy to miss when there were so many other things she hadn't been expecting.

It was one thing to know that Carach paid attention. In fact, to call it that would be under appreciating the level he put into absorbing everything around him. But the hopefulness in his voice- subtle, easy to miss if someone didn't know him that well- she swallowed. Because the realization that he had paid that much attention to her, not merely to register preferences she had never bothered to specifically tell him, but the effort to make sure those things were here, for her now....

The effort she'd put into choosing a dress she thought he'd like seemed very small indeed.

She nodded again, clearing her throat. "It is. I.... I didn't realize.... you'd noticed."

It wasn't the over the top gestures she had found so far fetched and unbelievable by someone in the past. These were small, simple. But so much more real and visceral. Then, she'd dismissed them as someone not even knowing what a reasonable gesture was. She had no such illusions here.

She turned her attention to the food then, and then back up at him, her expression a cross between pleased and perplexed.

"Alright, see this? This is clearly magic because there's no way you could know I liked this."

She was wrong, of course. They'd had it together once on Azure, and she'd made an off handed comment about how much she liked seafood cooked in that particular fashion. Wistful, not really paying attention to him, thinking back to food from her childhood. She didn't remember. But he had.

[member="Carach"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

The smile grew towards the satisfied and daresay it smug.

An expression that would be more comfortable to her, because it was an expression she knew intimately at this point. "A magician never reveals his secrets, Raj." the Sith pointed out, before pouring both of them something to drink.

An old-fashioned Delirium wine, one of his favorites and one that she had enjoyed as well a couple of weeks back.

They clinked, toasted, took a sip and Carach sighed, both from the pleasing warmth as well as... confusion in the moment? "I will admit, I don't really know what I am doing here. Do we eat? Talk? Drink or dance? It is quite new for me."

Very new.

This was the first time he had actually gone out on a date.

It felt strange, pleasant, but very strange.

 

[Kuzo]

"Eat," she answered without hesitation. "I don't know about you, but I'm not about to let this get cold."

There were other reasons eating was a good idea first. Let her decide just how she felt about his last admission. She knew about him and Natasi. They'd never talked about it, but she'd met him as Irani and that relationship had been fairly well known. His words were sincere, but she honestly had no idea how someone could reach a point like that with someone like her without having wined and wooed.

Of course, when Raj was off balance she tended to talk.

Her fork cut through the white fish without need of a knife. "This is a little like magic though," she commented, focusing here and now rather than letting her mind wander off too far. "I know my way around a kitchen, but my dad, he was the cook. He could look at this, smell it, taste it, and tell you everything that went into it. Every ingredient. And then after one or two close calls, make it himself like it was no big deal. Me, I'm lucky if my wookiee cakes turn out looking like breakfast, let alone wookiees-"

When she did stop it was because she had taken her first bite. And she actually closed her eyes, tapping her feet happily beneath the table as the familiar flavors of home washed over her. It wasn't exactly that- it couldn't be. But it was close enough, and she savored it.

[member="Carach"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

Natasi and him... had been different from this.

Not in the least for the reason of their close proximity. One little action after another. Galas, state dinners, all those things that were normal and reasonable to Irani, where they had traded wit, jokes, sometimes food or drinks. Cooperating closely with business transactions and assisting each other in the political sphere of the First Order... all of that had brought them closer.

None of them was this though.

Carach looked on with amusement as she practically danced once the first bite was taken and consumed. "I am glad you liked it. This was my third attempt, the first two were... less than satisfying."

A careful bite was taken and then he hummed in satisfaction, it was even better now that it had the time to cool-off a bit.

"Tell me about your father? Was he also a doctor?" The question was posed and it made the Sith realize that they hadn't ever actually... talked, oh sure, some small talk after maybe. Business, training, Sith talk, all of them. But they hadn't ever really settled down and enjoyed each other company just for the sake of it.

How strange.

 

[Kuzo]

There it was again. Oh, he wasn't *trying* to make sure she knew how much work he'd put into this. It wasn't a game or a subtle dig to get recognition. But it was impossible to not be aware of it.

Fortunately he also invited other thoughts and between that and the food, she could choose to focus on simply the occupants of the table, rather than the weight of intention.

She nodded, finishing chewing before answering.

"He was. A surgeon, but with a specialty in infectious disease." she added, her smile turning a touch wry. It was easier, this side of death, to talk about him. Without the sheer fury and righteous anger. Some of that had been burned out on the side of that mountain. It was difficult to hold on to things like that, when there was no longer anything at stake. She couldn't view her childhood through the lens of it as a separate time, unconnected to the lies her parents had told. But she had found a way to set them side by side, and still be able to see through the lies to the happy childhood she had actually experienced.

"He supported me in everything. If I was interested in something, he was there to help find the books I needed to learn more about it. I think he considered curiosity to be one of the greatest traits someone could hold. Didn't matter what the subject was, even if he wasn't interested himself. We'd spend hours pouring over books, laying on the floor of the living room and rapid firing facts and questions at each other. He was very serious.... very intense. Not a great beside manner, but he considered saving lives to be more important than if his patients liked him. But he was always gentle with me. Even more so with mom....."

She trailed off there, frowning slightly.

"He was never really the same, after she died. Blamed himself for not being able to save her- so of course, watching him sink into that, well, it made it pretty obvious what I was going to do. I didn't feel responsible, even then, but I did feel helpless. And I didn't like it. It was when I found out he was a Force user.... the only time he taught me anything, a version of what we did with you last week, and the only time he ever spoke of it again, ever. There wasn't a presence, on my homeworld really. Force users, I mean. I think that was why he picked it as a place to settle. He was hiding who he was.... and trying to protect my mother. So it just didn't seem very important, learning more about the Force. At the time, I figured if the Force could have saved her, he would have done it. So there was really no contest between it and becoming a Doctor."

Irajah ate as she talked, gesturing occasionally with her fork. Talking about this was far more straight forward than the alternatives, after all.

"Without him, I would never have survived Gideon. Never would have been able to track it down, study it, even if that ultimately was a dead end."

And then she chuckled. It was a really bad joke.

"Of course, without him, there wouldn't be a Gideon, so I suppose it all balances out in the end."

She reached out, plucking the wine glass from the table and taking a sip. Once breaking through the ice and distance after the Netherworld, she savored things in deeper truth than she though she ever had before. Glancing up at him over the rim, she quirked an eyebrow at the expression on his face.

"What about your family?"

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

Carach listened, but looked past the words as well.

The tightening of the shoulders, the twitch of a lip, squeeze of the fingers around the fork, they all made up the same tale and added important context waiting to be uncovered. Slowly the little holes were being filled out with the details given to him by her. They made a picture and they explained why things were the way they were.

History was important in that way.

It gave depth, it shaped you, formed you, made you into the person you were right now. A man without a history... was that truly a man in the first place?

A sobering thought.

"Wait... what?" Belatedly Carach blinked as the casual remark reentered his focus. That.... that wasn't just something one said like that, was it? He fully owned that he was the last person to talk about normalcy, but as far as the Sith could recall they had never talked about this before. In his sudden confusion the latter question was completely forgotten.

Probably for the best considering the answers he had.

"Your father created Gideon? That... I didn't know that."

 

[Kuzo]

She put down the fork slowly, deliberately.

"It didn't seem like something you'd care about," she said honestly. There was no accusation, no recriminations or bitterness. They hadn't been the kind of people who spoke of things deeper than the needs of the moment.

"And it was largely irrelevant to my research into Gideon by the time I met you. I'd already mined all of the old facilities of his I could find- which reminds me, I have to make a trip back to one of them, but that has nothing to do with this. I had all of his research, all of the files from the various incarnations of the virus, before he perfected it. Gideon, what it could do.... was part of why he left the Sith. That and my mother."

She shook her head, her feelings on that a little more complicated than she would life.

"She was one of his test subjects. The only one with a resistance to the virus. I don't know how she was ever able to get past what he did to her, but I never knew anything growing up except that they both loved each other unconditionally. They had disagreements, sure, but there was never any trace of just what had happened, how they'd met."

A shrug, as much a sign of not understanding as it was to physical shrug off that feeling.

"I think he became infected when he tried to destroy the samples he'd created. I don't know if I'll ever know for sure, but that's my guess. He did the same thing I did- he told me at the time he was teaching me that technique to help ease the discomfort mom had when she was sick, but I think he was also aware, especially watching her die, that it was only a matter of time before he did and he wouldn't be able to contain the virus. It was his way of watching out for me, if that ever happened."

Irajah leaned back in her chair, gaze thoughtful.

"I was at the hospital, working, the day he died. I assumed it was from the virus like everyone else, that he was a victim of it all the same. Looking back, I suspect it must have been a heart attack- something sudden. When I went back to the house, weeks later, he was at the gate, like he'd been trying to go somewhere. I spent.... a lot of time being very angry at him. A lot of time trying to talk myself into getting on a shuttle and aiming it at the heart of a star. But I understand him better now. He wanted to live, to take care of his wife, to watch his daughter grow up. He was selfish, but then.... so am I."

She smiled at [member="Carach"] then.

"Salcom Ven was a complicated man.... but I don't hate him for what he did."

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

Salcom Ven.

It was complicated to explain what Carach was exactly.

When the Sith are involved it usually got complicated, but the consequence right now was that he remembered. It wasn't his own memory, rather, not a memory that came after Carach became Carach, becoming more than just a host body for a different Sith Lord. The little details gave that away to him, the way the vision was skewed, outlines of red around the edges and a faint blur brushing against them. The way his body felt heavy or light or weak or fragile when he recalled it- foreign bodies, foreign minds looking down upon him... almost as if they knew he was watching with them.

Black tattoos, burned against his skin- no, not burned, etched into it with little needles made out of stone or other irregular materials. Short, shorter than average forcing him to look down while dealing with him. Eyes black as embers smoldering in a dying fire, intense, smoke washing over, there was still life there. Passion; he wanted to experience all there was, shovel it down, sate his hunger by living. He was shouting at him... he? Carach wasn't sure anymore, the memory was fading, but he could just about see the last word forming on Sal's lips.

Gideon.

Carach blinked and his eyes turned sharp from their initial blur. He shook his head and Raj looked worried for a moment, "No, it's okay, my heart is fine." He responded to a question that had been posed seconds apart.

"I know of Salcom." Of. Because he couldn't claim to actually know him- already the memories were fading once more. "Active about 40 years ago, I think?"

"Brilliant alchemist, bio-engineer..." Words suddenly filled his mouth as the memories went. "In his youth he tried to find remnants of Veeshas Tuwan on Arkania."

She was staring at him.

Carach scratched his beard. "Yes?"

 

[Kuzo]

The blankess of expression on his face had her halfway out of her chair before he refocused and assured her his heart was fine. She hovered for a moment, side eyeing him up and down before settling back down, letting go of the edge of the table.

Of course, the side eye didn't dissipate as he continued. If anything it became more blatant, morphing into straight surprise.

Knowing her father was a Sith was one thing. Hearing someone she knew talk about him was entirely different. It made it... realer.... somehow. But despite the 'of' him, [member="Carach"] sounded like it was more than that.

"It sounds like you know more about his early life than I do," she said finally.

"I'm just surprised is all. I'm surprised you'd have heard about someone like him- before your time, and unless he changed a lot he wasn't the flashy sort. I mean, hell, I looked and I couldn't find records of him outside of his labs. It's not like you were there. so it surprises me that...."

She trailed off, giving him a funny look.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

That pushed him towards taking the glass of wine and taking a good sip.

More like a gulp.

"I wasn't present there... personally." Carach sighed, waggling his hand as to try and push the situation away a bit. Not that it would ever be as easy as that. Especially not when it was her father that was the point of scrutiny here. "It's complicated, Raj, but I basically have the memories of someone who knew your father."

The words hadn't yet left his tongue, before another rush of sensation filled him. Eyes faded and he found himself shouting. Not on the roof. In the desert, it was cold, night-time. The marked man (Kiffar) had gone out again without telling him, it infuriated the young Arkanian. They had met on those cold wastes, learned to trust each other... something happened here though. He stopped sharing, went away all night, didn't return until the sun rose again... covered in wounds.

Carach blinked again.

She was shaking his shoulder. He looked up, hand briefly touching hers, squeezing. "Flood of memory again." The Sith sighed as she pulled away ever so slightly, give him room to breathe now that he was present again? "This wasn't how I wanted our first date to go. I am sorry."

 

[Kuzo]

She'd been up out of her chair that time and to his side before he was 'back'. Or whatever the hell it was. Especially with the people she cared about, Raj wasn't really the type to deliberately keep things, her feelings, hidden. So the worry was written clearly across her face when he blinked up at her, and she let out a small whoosh of breath in relief.

Hazel eyes searched his face for a moment before responding.

"No, I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head. "Clearly something I said triggered..... something. I'm not going to pretend I understand what's going on, but I'm willing to listen if you want to explain it. Otherwise we can talk about something else, okay?"

Once she'd confirmed he was actually okay, she leaned over, kissing him quickly on the mouth before heading back to her side of the table.

She poured them both another glass of the wine, figuring they could both probably use it.

"You know what? No," she looked up at him, suddenly smiling.

"I'm not sorry. And you shouldn't be either."

Leaning back in her chair, she fiddled with the stem of the wine glass for a moment.

"We can pretend that we're doing normal things, the things normal people do. But we're not. Normal, I mean. We're never going to have a moment where something other doesn't creep in. Maybe there was a time...." she paused, taking a sip of wine to steady her nerves. "Maybe there was a time where that was what I wanted," she continued quietly. "Where I would have given anything to go back to what my life was like before. I wanted a little house with a garden and a big window I could look out onto it from. Maybe someone to share it with, I didn't know. I just wanted to do my job and come home. Paint maybe. But that..... that isn't something we can have here. So, instead of pretending like it is.... I think we should embrace what we actually have. And it is not anything resembling normal. So let's not apologize for that. Not to each other."

[member="Carach"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

The glass of wine had been halfway to his lips when her voice rang out again.

Defiant. Bright. Smiling.

It was enough for his own grin to return, smoothing out the worry and concern, paving way for the satisfied smirk that always curled his mouth upwards in a pleasing line. "Agreed, this is who we are." He raised his glass towards her, almost as a salute, as a cheers towards that particular statement. Perhaps she was right- perhaps Carach had been trying so hard to be.. normal for her, that he forgot that neither of them were that. Not anymore and definitely not after her death.

Perhaps it wasn't normalcy that she needed after all.

Even if it was a pleasant distraction every once in awhile. "It is complicated," He reaffirmed while wondering if this was truly the story he was going to tell on their first fething date. Then again… Raj had just told him how her dad basically was the reason she had been plagued by Gideon in the first place.

“Imagine you asked me about my earliest memory.” An example, because Carach wasn't sure how to bring it otherwise. “Of my childhood, the first memory I have. I could give you twenty different stories, each distinct, each different, seen from different eyes, felt by different… sentients.”

A shrug as he sipped from his glass again, before putting it down.

Strong wine.

“All of them are true, but none of them are mine because…. I had no childhood.” Raj’s expression seemed to soften in response. Confusion, then Carach understood. “No, not like that. You met me as Irani, know me as Carach, but neither are…-”

The Sith Lord sighed and pulled the glass towards him for another taste. He wasn't nearly drunk enough for this conversation.

“I have lived for maybe 40 years now, but my memories stretch back for centuries. I was created, not born, to serve as a host… for memories, souls, essence.” Carach snorted and smirked. “They didn't expect me to suddenly gain my own conscience.” But was it his own conscience? Was it him? Did him even exist? Or was it maybe just an artificial construct through which all those memories were channeled.

He looked up from his glass, smirk turned into a rueful smile. “Told you it was complicated.”

 

[Kuzo]

She raised her glass when he did. A salute. Maybe a promise. That it didn't all have to be normal. It could be just whatever it was going to be.

Content enough, replete with excellent food, good wine and, if she were being honest, the company, she listened as he explained. Toying with her wine glass, sipping contemplatively, she mulled it over, turning it around just like the glass in her hands. In truth, it offered more questions than answers, but at least gave her some idea of just how deep the 'not normal' here went.

"I mean, I believed you when you said 'complicated,' " she finally said after draining the last of her wine. "I just didn't quite expect it to be maw-cursed insane. I have a million questions....."

She trailed off, watching him, the expression on her face soft. Of course she did, and really, he couldn't expect anything else. Not from her.

"But maybe they can wait," she said finally. "I'm glad you told me."

She got the feeling it wasn't something he normally shared, and she appreciated that he had. A thoughtful expression flickered over her face.

"Just one though, for now."

Tilting her head, she watched him.

"You said you had childhood memories. But they aren't *yours*. Are any of them ones that you like? That you wished *were*?"

Irajah's childhood had been a good one. She had been loved. And part of her needed to know if, somewhere in there, he had been too.

[member="Carach"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

He had been expecting any number of things.

At his most pessimistic for her to simply leave him there, but even the optimist hadn't expected there to be… understanding? No, not the correct word, but it was something close to it. A certain sense of comfort born from acceptance and that hadn't been something Carach expected.

Not so fast anyway.

“Good ones?” Difficult to say. The Sith closed his eyes and relaxed, but as he drifted towards that place of abstraction his voice floated up. “A young girl, perhaps eight years old, her father the custodian of the great library on Lorrd. Each morning she would walk the rounds with him, checking on the books under his vigil.”

“Her father liked to joke that she learned how to read first, debate second and walk third.”

Time spend amidst the books, reading, so much reading and discovery, but in the very end one’s childhood is over before it truly had time to start. “She was stolen, the library burned, she grew up to hate and to embrace pain. Her name was Darth Kalesh, the fourth sigil of the Lorrdian alphabet. She died alone and in agony.”

Eyes opened and studied Raj.

“I want a real name.” The realization hit him as he said it.

 

[Kuzo]

A person who could calmly say My father infected me with a deadly virus that caused me a year of agony, but I understand how that happened and I still love him wasn't the kind of person who would hear that story from him and walk away. She didn't pretend to understand what all of that had to be like. There was no way she could. Not without dipping into his mind and that was something she wasn't sure she wanted to do in regards to this. If he offered? Perhaps. But this was his story to tell, in whatever way he wanted to, not hers to pick apart into a million pieces and fit them beneath a microscope.

And that was a conscious choice, rather than merely second nature. Her true nature was to dissect, to examine, to find every last thread of knowledge she could wring from something. But she didn't do that here. To him.

She did smile at the story, a soft, wistful expression. Those moments were good. They were worth something. And even if it wasn't his per se, that he had them mattered to her.

“I want a real name.”

Irajah blinked.

That hadn't even occurred to her. She had met him as Irani, yes. And accepted the change to Carach without concern. But she had assumed that Carach was, if not his given name, at least one he had chosen to call himself by. Perhaps he had, but it clearly wasn't the same.

"Most people don't get the chance to choose their own," she said softly. "My parents gave me mine. My mother, she told me it meant 'fearless'.... I don't remember ever not knowing what it meant. I took the idea of that as a child and I ran with it. It meant something, something I could carry around with me. Like a talisman, a totem. I was lucky, because it meant something to her and she made certain I knew that. You should have that too."

[member="Carach"]