Hello, Mother...

[Placeholder 0123]

Proud?

Graxin swallowed heavily. He had dreamed of having some form of family as a child. Some other living creature that showed some sign of affection. Even after freeing himself of Krag, he hadn't experienced such. Graxin was coming up on his early twenties, and he had never been hugged.

Yet, at the same time, the base nature instilled in him forced him to speak. The guilt of all the death caused by his hands spilled over. Instead of using it to level a city block, or to motivate himself to save others, it came out in words.

"I destroyed Telos for him. I took down the planetary shield, and Krag glassed the planet. I killed a member of the peace brigade because he didn't like humans in his throne room. I killed a woman's employer, kidnapped her, and enslaved her because I wanted her to love me. I manipulated a pacifist into slaughtering a village on Mytus just to see if I could do it."

Graxin, no, Cyril, just stared up at her. It was all guilt; the look he gave, the tone of his voice. The boy had broken long ago. "The girl is free, the pacifist is redeemed, but Telos can't be fixed. I'm just a servant, good or bad, I just do what I'm told. You can't be proud of me."

[member="Feena Mason"]

 

[Feena]

Feena listened to his words. Reached out with the force to feel his pain, absorb his guilt. She could not fix it now. She was too late. Her son, her own flesh and blood was...

Not beyond help.

"Do not tell your mother what she can and can not do, young man," she snapped, moving to pull him close, "If I want to be proud of you, I will, damn it."

Very unladylike to curse. The Queen didn't care. She was going to hold her boy until he told her to stop, and then she was going to keep doing it until he shoved her away and screamed at her for leaving him.

"We are all damaged, Cyril. Nobody in the Galaxy, not a single person is pure. Good and evil doesn't exist. Choices are what matter. And the fact that you are here right now, the fact that you chose to help me heal all those people- That shows me that I am absolutely right in being proud of you, and that I was absolutely wrong in leaving you."

 

[Placeholder 0123]

Cyril, the name was so very foreign to him. Yet, it was truly his. The name he had always carried was a lie, and oddly enough, that struck the deepest chord within him. His arms fell limp at his side as his mother pulled him into her embrace. He shoulders stiffened, and any words were caught before they could be uttered.

Slowly, his arms drifted upward and encircled around her back. His body relaxed, and the only thing he could think about was how much he hated this woman. It burned deep and hot. She had left him; he could have lived without all of this. He could have had a mother.

This, along with the guilt, fell away as his thoughts seemed to simply stop. Though a head taller and largely built, his chin went to rest on her shoulder like a child. "Okay." Was all he said.

He did not know what else to say.

 

[Feena]

And so she held him, just as she should have held him for all these years. Nobody said Feena Mason was a good mother. Even her own daughters with Keter were neglected by her, and they all shared a household. Keter. The girls. She should mention them. Should. Later.

For now, she was trying her very best to take back years without him. She was trying to turn him back into that squealing baby boy that she would carry around and rock and sing to.

What did she used to sing to him? She could hardly remember it now. She sang it to Felicity too. Celeste was born during a busy time for the woman and had received no songs from her. What was that song? Feenas nanny had sung it to her too.
He was too old to recognize the tune now, she knew, but even so, she had the urge to hum that lullaby to her first and only son.

As she held him and hummed that old melody, she brushed her fingers through his hair. He would hate her. He would hate her forever. That was alright. A mother did not deserve love just for being a mother. Love had to be earned, just like everything else. And she had been a wretched mother.

...I owe him for so many birthdays, she thought guiltily to herself as she ran fingers through his black hair.

 

[Placeholder 0123]

What was this song she was humming? He couldn't quite recall, yet the nostalgic feeling of something forgotten that should have remained in memory fell over him. Krag would have executed him for this weakness. He would have been cast from the hierarchy, stripped of his right to the Emperor's heir, and hung by his entrails on the spires of the Sith Academy.

His mother just held him.

He squeezed her, perhaps too hard, and exhaled slowly. To his surprise, the edge of his eyes grew blurry as the beginning of tears glossed over them. Of what, he did not know, but he refused to let them fall. Instead, he asked one of the many questions plaguing his mind.

"Is my father alive, too? My real father?"

 

[Feena]

Feena stopped her humming to take his question in. She closed her eyes, squeezing the boy back.

"No."
Her answer was soft. Sad, as sad as would be expected. His father was her first love, after all. The first time falling was always the hardest.
"You have his eyes."

She wasn't sure what else to say now. What could she say to ease the blow? It was the truth, at least. Sometimes, when she was laying in Keters arms at night, she would still miss those eyes.
It didn't matter how many years and how many lovers you had between you both as a cushion. When feena fell, she fell hard. It still hurt.

"I married someone else about ten years ago," she told him, trying to tear her mind away from those eyes, "He's a good man. A little eccentric. A story teller. And we have two daughters. Your half sisters. I would like- Well, I think you should met them. They would want to meet you, I know it."

 

[Placeholder 0123]

"I thought so. Shlurk told me he was eaten. I doubt he died so brutally, but they only ever said you were a Jedi. Never anything about death."

Graxin's mind drifted off. Two more sister? He had already lost two siblings. Both, to his knowledge, had been executed for his failures. His brother had likely died fighting, of that, he was proud. His sister...he did not want to think of what they had done to her before putting her down.

"I had a brother, and a sister. I'm not sure if they were yours or not. It's why I continued serving Vulcanus after I was given a ship. They were executed when Krag disappeared." He sunk his head into her shoulder, and squeezed his eyes shut. "I killed Vulcanus though. The Graug won't ever be a threat again."

He paused for a long moment. His head lifted, and tilted upward toward the ceiling. There were so many things he wanted to know. "What are they like? The sisters. Are they little?"

 

[Feena]

She still didn't let go of him as he told of his other siblings. She winced at hearing it. Her lover... did he have other women too? Other children with them? It hurt to think about after all these years that he may not have cared the same way she did.

"Not mine," she answered, voice flat, "I just had you."

But when he asked about Felciity and Celeste, Feena immediately cheered back up.

"Felicity is ten now. Celeste is only three. Felicity is a very smart girl. She's going to school right here on Naboo. I managed to get her into the finest academy in the Protectorate. Celeste is learning her letters in Basic. She will be well on her way to joining her sister."

She squeezed her son even tighter. This wasn't fair. She should have taken him. Should have taken him back home to Naboo. She should have just quit the Jedi then and there and went back her family estate and raised her son in peace. She might have found a nice, rich man with lake front property and a good family name to take care of her and her son. He could have gone to all the right schools, could be working in politics now, could be well taken care of, maybe even with a nice girlfriend for Feena to silently judge.

The 'what ifs' in life were harsh.

 

[Placeholder 0123]

He didn't know why, but it was a bit of a relief to know that she had at least waited sometime before having another child. He did not feel so replaced as he had before. Then again, it was inevitable that he would meet these children, and he didn't know the first thing about dealing with younglings. No one had taught him, and he had never had any experience with them.

"I look forward to meeting them, then." He murmured quietly. His expression fell for just a moment. It had taken an ocean of blood, but he had finally landed on an island bordering normalcy. Naboo was such a beautiful, peaceful world too. It was so much better than Gratos. "We had children on Mytus, but they were all Sith Acolytes. I had an apprentice for a little while, she was about F-...Felecity's age." He struggled with the name, but he was trying, at the very least.

"I've barely dealt with kids. I suppose I'll learn to though. The Jedi just recently accepted me. Most of them are wary of me, but some...some are alright. I'm one of the only masters of Niman that they have in the Order. It's helped." He continued to drone on about Jedi business or other things involving combat. Unlike Feena, he said nothing borderline normal, let alone happy. There just wasn't anything like that for him to say.

He was a butcher turned defender. There was nothing more to him. "I've had schooling to, but I mess up when I talk sometimes. I'm not used to speaking with humans or other species. Graug have blunt, aggressive speech patterns. Yo-...We don't."

He paused for a moment, and simply enjoyed the embrace. His capacity for forgiveness was oddly high, considering his upbringing. It stemmed from an innate sense of compassion that had driven him away from the Sith. They saw it as a curse, the Jedi encouraged it, and so he tried to forget that his mother had left him in the hands of beasts for her own gain. He really did.

 

[Feena]

Cyril let her hold him. She supposed it was a first step. Her boy was so damaged, so hurt. She was trying so hard to be what the Galaxy needed now. She tried to be the peacemaker, the savior. The one who could sacrifice herself for a stranger. And it was easy to do that. It was easy to let herself get hurt. Because when she was hurt, the guilt felt less suffocating. When she was punishing herself, she didn't think about how she left her first child and fled in fear. She didn't think about the awful things she did to those people in that laboratory. She didn't think about any of it.

"It's okay, Cyril," she whispered, rubbing his back as if she were trying to sooth an infant, "It's all okay. Don't you worry about a thing. I will take care of it all. When you meet the girls, there will be no pressure. I'll speak with Keter... your stepfather, before you meet him. It's been a long day. A long life. You deserve some peace."

It was early to offer him a place here on Naboo. And why would he even consider it? She didn't deserve to have him near by, but, perhaps it was in the wake of her declining health, or perhaps in her later years she just valued family more than ever. But whatever the reason, Feena wanted him close.

"...Stay away from the Jedi, my boy," she advised in a voice barely a whisper, "I... Just trust me on this."

 

[Placeholder 0123]

Stay away from the Jedi.

Of all the revelations tonight, that was the one that shocked him the most. Why not the Jedi? Where would he go if not with them? He had already committed to helping them in more ways than one. With their assistance, Krag had been slain. With their assistance, he had survived. He couldn't just leave. Not yet, anyway.

"Then I'll try not to worry about it." He murmured quietly. This was no doubt the beginning of something he had not expected. Did this mean he had a family now? "I don't know where I'd be without them, my la-...mother. They helped me defeat Krag on Ossus, and took me in when his bounty hunters drove me into the ground."

He sighed, and stared past her toward the small lightshow that was Naboo's capital at night. "I have no idea where I would go."

 

[Feena]

At this, Feena felt a rising panic in the pit of her stomach. When she left Cyril behind, she had been unaware of what would happen to him. It was ignorant of her, but not malicious. If she allowed her son now to walk into the trap that was the Jedi Order, than it would truly be malicious negligence on her part. She pulled away slightly to look him in the eyes. Placed a hand on his cheek.

"Oh yes. The Jedi Order will 'help you', make you feel loyal. And then they will use you, drain you of every bit of self worth you have until there is nothing left. Then, when you are at your lowest, when you are used up, they will toss you aside. Let's say I have... personal experience. There is a reason I am not in their Order anymore."

She shook her head, face stern. She certainly felt every bit the mother now. Protective. She failed in the past, but this was the present. She would not do it again if she could help it.

"You may stay here instead," she offered, "Naboo is hardly the most exciting world in the Galaxy, but it is safe and it is cultured. You have family here now. This planet is in your very blood, Cyril."

 

[Placeholder 0123]

Graxin was unsure of what to say. His gaze drifted to the hand on his cheek, and his lips pressed into a thin line. Leave the Order, already? That was quite a bit to ask so suddenly.

"I'll consider it." He murmured quietly. He matched his gaze with his mother's; the amber orbs betraying nothing. Naboo was a beautiful world, and while he had grown to like it, he wasn't sure he was ready to live here. It was so...comfortable.

"What would I do here on Naboo? What purpose would I serve? I have a debt to the galaxy, mother. For the things I have done and the lives I have taken." He spoke with honest, if not a bit cold sincerity. His eyes shifted about as he searched her expression. "I see the flaws in the Order...it's part of why I'm needed there."

 

[Feena]

The Queen lowered her hand, looking down at her carpeted floor. She wasn't going to convince him. He was too much like her. He felt that same sense of duty she did. The same need to right the wrongs of the past.

"The tea is getting cold," she said after a moment, hiding the disappointment in her voice as best she could, "We should sit down and finish up. It would be a shame to waste perfectly fine tea."

She couldn't bare to tell hm why she wanted him to stay so badly. It was too soon. But the fact of the matter was, Feena had already been given a death sentence. Her job as Queen would likely be her last role in the Galaxy. The illness was getting better, slowly. It wasn't destroying her body nearly as quickly now, thanks to advances in medicine, but she was far from cured.

"Come, boy," she sighed, moving back to her tea table, "Sit. I may be your Mother, but you are free to choose for yourself what road you take. And when you are older and wiser, Naboo will still be here. Who knows. You may even follow in your mothers footsteps and become a healer. I think you have a natural talent for it."

 

[Placeholder 0123]

He complied without a word. Graxin settled into the chair he had previously taken, and brought the cup up to his lips. It was mild, but not necessarily cold. He failed to notice the disappointment in her voice, but he understood her meaning. Perhaps he would take leave of things once he achieved mastery....he was unsure.

"I'm alright at it. The force in general seems to be my strong suit. I was a master of pyrokinesis and force lightning with the Sith...I'm learning to be more constructive than destructive." He set the cup down, and flashed the first genuine smile she would have seen from him. It was warm and content, simple. "I'm also very good at sabaac, if that counts for anything."

His arms folded over his chest; the large shirt he wore bunching up in all the wrong places. He looked more like a Hutt than a Jedi Knight at the moment. "So your whole family is from Naboo? What kind of human does that make me? The Priests always assumed I was Lorridian on account of the amber eyes."

 

[Feena]

She managed to smile back, but she didn't touch her tea yet. She was still over due for her medication. She could already feel her senses dulling.

"You get those eyes from your father," she informed him, "To be honest, I'm not sure where he came from exactly. But yes, my family from my fathers side is all from Naboo. My brother, my parents, my grandparents, for as far back as the recorded family tree goes. We are a very old family here."

And rich, but she decided not to mention that. Not until later. Old money was what the Greysons were. Old money, old name, old everything.

"As for me myself, I am actually only half human. Your grandmother was a miraluka. Did you know? Apparently it's common for the offspring of a pairing like that to have complications."

She pointed to her eyes, expressionless, silver, cybernetic. They were made well, designed to carry a resemblance to normal functioning human eyes. But they lacked the natural depth of a natural human eye.

"Only reason I mention, is so you will keep this in mind when you take a wife one day. Not that I think you should worry just yet. Wait until you are thirty. At least. No. Better make it thirty five. Assuming girls are what you are into."

 

[Placeholder 0123]

He huffed an amused little sigh as she pointed out the eyes. Miraluka, yes, he had met one. He had almost fallen in love with one even, but that wasn't particularly worth mentioning. She had left him for her books, and they were never truly a couple. Never even shared a kiss, but Graxin could always tell she fancied him.

"Good to know...though thirty five seems a bit old, doesn't it? Humans tend to get married a bit before that, or so I hear. Shorter life spans. Honestly, I wouldn't know. Romance is something I've never really had."

His smile remained as he droned on. His fingers splayed out in a web just below his chin, and his shoulders finally relaxed. The initial shock was gone now. It seemed that he was coming to terms with things the best he could. "I almost did. I think. My old pilot seemed...interested. I don't know. We haven't spoken since she helped me build my lightsaber on Mustafar."

And then he paused. His expression shifted to something much more accusatory, and it was highly apparent in his voice. "Waaaait....you had me at sixteen. How does thirty five work?"

 

[Feena]

And no. She didn't need to hear about her sons love life. She was his mother! She picked up her tea cup and took a sip, almost choking on it when he mentioned how young she had been.

"Yes. I was sixteen. Clearly that was too young. You should take my mistakes and learn not to repeat them, because, boy, I swear if you make me a grandmother before Felicity has finished school, I will ground you until you are fifty. I am your mother. I am allowed to do that."

 

[Placeholder 0123]

"Clearly? I think I turned out fine." Graxin mumbled. He took another sip of his tea, and huffed a quiet laugh at Feena's little display. This was going to be far too easy. He gave his mother the widest grin he could muster, and leaned back in his chair. Perhaps he could afford to stay a few days. The Order didn't demand him much. In fact, he was generally left to his own designs for the most part.

"I don't intend on having any children, mother, so you're alright. They aren't my strong suit. At all." He stated rather bluntly. "It wouldn't go over well."

 

[Feena]

The Queen smiled and sipped at her tea. It really was cold now. She was alright with it. She was going to drink it anyway.

"More tea?" she asked, lifting the pot to refill her own cup, "Turned out fine? Well, if you did, it had nothing to do with me, did it?"

It was kind of a sad thought, but it was truth. In politics, she was expected to deal with lies, but that was exhausting. She preferred the truth, even when it hurt.

[member="Graxin Rade"]