Private Legacies

[Amani Serys]

“Aaaalright. We’re just about to drop out of hyperspace,” Amani spun around in her pilot seat, a tunnel of stars still swirling behind the cockpit viewport. She stood up, antsy and fidgeting from excitement. Or was it nervousness? A bit of both.

Alicio had never been here before, and Amani had only been here once before. She was nervous about making sure everything went perfectly, and in fact a bit overly concerned with all the minutiae of their itinerary. But she was also excited to be back. It was an experience she wanted him to have, and to share with him. The look on her face seemed to indicate an internal monologue playing at a thousand miles an hour.

“You ready? Let’s see, uhh… Need a refresher on any words? Remember to grab your coat? Whatever else you brought? Well, I guess the ship will still be here if you leave anything on board. Hm… Oh! What about-” Amani’s bombardment of questions was cut off as the ship lurched out of hyperspace, bringing them into the orbit of a marbled white and blue planet.

“...There it is.” Amani confirmed, “My family comes from abouuut right here,” She stepped a little closer to the transparisteel, pointing out a general area that stood out in no particular fashion from the rest of the snow-draped planet. A region in the northern hemisphere, not quite polar, but that evidently didn’t mean much on Mirial, “Which is where we’ll be going. Relatively small and uh, rural, I guess you could say.”

“About now it should be late afternoon there. Gives us a bit of time in the sun, but night sets early, too.” She took a deep breath, stopping herself from overloading him with every little unnecessary detail, “...Any questions?”

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Turning around in his chair at the same time Amani did, Alicio observed the Mirialan with amusement as she practically radiated with nervous energy. Which was fair. She was showing him a part of herself, her family history. If they were doing something similar on Alderaan, the perfectionist in him would likely be acting the very same way.

But instead, he was just reveling in the moment, glad to be learning about Amani, glad just to be with her.

Her rapid-fire questions came and went before he could answer them, illiciting a sympathetic chuckle from the Count. Yep, he'd be exactly like this. Overly-complex itinerary and all.

Quickly, the ship dipped out of hyperspace, revealing Mirial before them, Alicio stood up to get a better view of it, walking up and pressing his cheek to Amani's to follow her finger. "It looks lovely, Amani," the nobleman assured, turning his face to hers as she paused.

"One quick question," Alicio said, stilling her fidgeting hands with his own. "How do you say 'relax' in Mirialan?" He sent her an easy half-smile, guessing at what was giving her anxiety.

"As long as you're having a good time, I'm having a good time. So, let's just... go enjoy ourselves."

That being said, he did love a good itinerary.

"What's first on our agenda?"

- Amani Serys -

 

[Amani Serys]

Amani smiled warmly, as if he had just given her a deep compliment. For the longest time, her interest in Mirial was passing at best. Only whatever had been relayed to her by her parents, and beyond that, there was simply too much else to worry about. But after her first visit, she gained a deeper appreciation for her ancestral home and history. So his approval, which already meant the world to her, gained all the more traction.

The Count’s question, though, made her blink, “...’Sollukh’?” She answered literally. A few more seconds passed before she registered that that wasn’t quite his intent. Then a sheepish smile crept across her face, “Sorry. Yes. You’re right.” Amani spun back around, taking the ship down through the thick icy clouds, causing a bit of frost to creep at the edges of the cockpit window. Eventually they touched down in a snow-drifted steppe, where gracefully falling flakes helped complete the scene. The sun reflected brightly off the white banks, though it wouldn’t for much longer.

“Well,” Amani said, standing up and heading to the main cabin to get her clothes and change, “It’s not super detailed, I admit. But there’s a few different things going on we could see. The main event is a tattooing ceremony, but that’s not ‘till later. I know the market will be open, I’m sure we can find some cute stuff to buy there. Food, obviously. Gotta try the local cuisine. And some kind of play, as part of the celebration? Also a bit later. So, uh-” There came that nervousness again, feeling as if she had misplanned something, “For now we’ll just do some browsing? Get a feel for the space? Shop? If you want?”

When she was done getting dressed, Amani was adorned in a wintry, fur-lined outfit in the style of her people. “How do I look?” She asked, as if he would be more familiar with it than her. The mirialan put up her hands and apologized preemptively, “Sorry. Enjoying ourselves.” Moving over to the exit, she smacked the button to slide open the landing ramp, and they were met with the first sight of a decidedly traditionalist village.

Buildings were mostly wooden and hut-like, draped with furs or canvas. People were milling about the stalls that had been set up along the side of the street for the evening occasion, though quite a few were now looking their way, given how rare a sight visitors were in this region. Fires were lit for warmth, and no doubt used as a light source as well during the night. A far cry from the metal and duracrete skylines of Coruscant, or even the utopian Alderaan. Though thankfully, not devoid of modern technologies wholesale. “...Shall we?”

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio gazed out the window as their ship entered Mirial's atmosphere, smiling warmly as the chill began to spiderweb the viewport with frost. The view from the ship seemed picturesque, the light dusting of snow bringing together a magical scene. It made him feel slightly nostalgic, though he had no idea why.

"That sounds good to me," the Count affirmed, his grin keeping it's warmth as he looked at Amani. "I can't wait."

Given some privacy as Amani left to get changed, Alicio pulled on his new peacoat, struggling with the belt for only a moment before fastening the long jacket to himself. It was thin, but the thermoweave should keep him relatively toasty.

When Amani re-entered the room, Alicio looked her up and down, his smile only doubling. "Perfect," was all he could say, as he stepped with her to the exit ramp, greeted by the cold air of Mirial, and the curious stares of the locals.

Alicio took a deep breath, enjoying the chilled air in his lungs, before he found her hand with his. "Let's do it," he responded, taking his first steps with Amani out of the ship.

"Anything you're in the market for?," the Count said as the pair picked their way by rows of stalls. "I'm looking for clothes. Maybe a cloak. And, of course, food is a must." His eyes seemed to catch a stall. Hung up wood carvings, depicting animals, landscapes, and geometric diamond patterns.

"We could start there."

- Amani Serys -

 

[Amani Serys]

Amani grinned again, and gave the Count's own style an appraisal, "You too." As they stood at the ramp, ogled by the native populace, she found herself freezing up with nervousness. At least, until Alicio's hand linked with hers, bringing her back into the moment. She looked at him warmly and stepped out into the crisp air, her traditionally fashioned outerwear insulating her from the weather.

"Some kind of souvenir, maybe. I never really bothered to look for one last time," She had been far too caught up the culture shock then, but now she wanted a reminder to have with her back home, "I'd like seeing you rock something like this," Amani flared the furry collar of her jacket, at his mention of clothes. Together they wandered through the open-air market alongside the rest of the townsfolk, most of whom had gone back to their own business, spare the occasional glance at the newcomers. Here the snowy walkways had been dusted with an array of colored powders: mostly reds, yellows, and blues. As had some of the buildings and even natural formations like rocks, the latter two examples painted with more deliberate designs, some inspired by nature, others more geometric. Clothes seemed similarly vibrant, all of it making for a stark contrast with the whites and grays of most of the landscape.

Their meandering brought them over to a seemingly unattended stall, decorated with beautifully carved wooden figurines and bas-reliefs. Amani studied them as if with a vague sense of recognition, "These are lovely…" She leaned in, when suddenly the fur drape at the back of the stall was flung open, making her recoil in surprise. A positively ancient-looking mirialan woman, lavender-skinned and covered in tattoos, burst through with a gleeful yelp. <Ehhh? The Serys girl?! Back already?! Ho ho, Come here, little one!> The woman spoke in her native tongue, ho-ho-ing as she pulled the Jedi in and gave her a big kiss on each cheek.

<Mebita! I thought these looked like yours! Good to see you!> Amani replied in the same language, albeit with a more rigid accent, laughing at the pleasant surprise. Perhaps she shouldn't have been so taken aback; Given the relatively small population, they were bound to run into somebody she had already met.

Mebita gasped, looking between Amani and the human next to her, <And who is this one? He wasn't with you last time…>

The younger woman nodded, and tugged the Count's coat, <This is… my boyfriend.>

Immediately, the elder raised her hands and laughed jubilantly, pulling in Alicio for a similar pair of smooches, <Lovely boy, lovely! So happy to meet you!> After freeing him from her grasp, she admired the couple again, <Human, eh? Well he is a handsome one. Oh-! Does he speak ah…?> She trailed off, and both looked expectantly to Alicio, offering a chance to try and exchange proper greetings himself, if he wanted.

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

"I'd like seeing you rock something like this."

"You think I could?" The Count sent a smirk Amani's way, twirling in the snow a moment before relocking hands with her. Fur wasn't his usual style, but a little around his shoulders would make him look rather regal.

Stopping at the stall, Alicio let his eyes wander over the ornate carvings, drinking in the expert craftmanship. He was about to comment on exactly that, before an old woman burst into the open air. Alicio felt his heart skip a beat, before smiling at himself.

He was a passive observer as the two Mirialans exchanged words, trying his best and failing to parse what they were saying. Amani tugged at his coat, and he responded by bowing his head respectfully. A gesture that was quickly thrown off-kilter as he was pulled forward for the most joyous of cheek kisses.

Then, they were both looking at him. After getting over his initial shock of the warmness of their interaction, Alicio grinned from ear to ear, running through the phrases he and Amani had practiced. "Um... <Hello! It is good to meet you. My name is Alicio.> Ah... <I'm sorry, I don't speak Mirialan.>"

"Do you two know each other?" Alicio turned his face down towards his girlfriend, a glimmer of amusement in his grey eyes.

- Amani Serys -

 

[Amani Serys]

"You could with just about anything," Amani replied. He was the more fashionable of the two, generally speaking. As if a bit of style came naturally to the Count, "Maybe a cloak or something, so you can keep the coat but still fit in with the locals."

Over at the stall, Amani watched with a giggle as Alicio was pulled into the greeting kisses, but became much more reassuring as he tried his own hand at the phrases they had been practicing. His accent was even more noticeable than hers, but overall the pronunciation was commendable. She beamed proudly at him, appreciative of the effort he had put into learning about her and her background. Mebita seemed to think so as well, <Look at this one! Not so bad for a newcomer! Good choice with this one, Amani!> The old lady teased, chuckling to herself.

"That was great," Amani turned back to Alicio, then gestured between the two of them, "This is Mebita. She's one of the village elders, and an excellent woodcarver. Obviously." She smirked, indicating that her 'obviously' was jokingly directed at both her woodcarving skills and her venerability. "I met her last time I came here. Very sweet."

The elder looked between them adoringly for a few moments, then blinked, "Oh-!" She dipped her head forward, "I am Mebita. Very nice to meet you, hm?" An exchange in imperfect Basic as a show of appreciation. Each syllable slowly and heavily pronounced, but understandable all the same.

Amani gave her a nod and a grin as well, <Not bad!> The two ladies chuckled again, and Mebita sheepishly waved off the compliment with a hand.

<You are too kind, girl. Too kind. Now ah, can I help you with anything? You're here for the ceremony, I wager?>

<That's right. And I think we can find our way around for now, but we were actually looking at some of you works here.> Amani pointed at the dangled wood carvings. Mebita followed her gesture to them and smiled proudly.

<Ohhh, yes! By all means, pick out something you like. For you, it is free of charge!>

Amani shook her head, <I can't do that to you, Mebita. These were hard work!>

The elder seemed disinterested, waving her hands and harrumphing, <Nonsense, dear. It is a time to give. So I give.>

Amani turned to Alicio once more, explaining, "She says we can each take one for free." Her tone indicating that she wasn't keen on leaving the old woman free of compensation, before taking a look at the wares. Her eyes quickly lit up as she spotted something: a figurine of what appeared to be some kind of plump flightless bird, indingenous to Mirial. "Aw! I had one just like this when I was a kid!" She quickly snatched it up, cradling it close. "Anything here that interests you?"

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

"That was great."

Alicio practically glowed at Amani's praise, just glad that he'd been able to remember the words. His sisters had been language-learning prodigies, but he apparently wasn't a slouch for simple, easy phrases. Amani detailed exactly how the two women knew each other, smiling a little at her hidden joke.

He then turned to Mebita as she introduced herself in Basic. Alicio inclined his head, laughing a little. "It's nice to meet you too, Mebita," the Count provided, nodding his head, and watching on in mild confusion as they continued to speak in Mirialan.

He was entirely lost until Amani explained what they were talking about. The Count looked surprised at the lavender Mirialan for a moment, before nodding in resignation towards Amani. "Okay. But... These are really high quality. It feels wrong to take them for free."

Still, he marveled alongside his girlfriend as they ogled Mebita's carvings, smiling curiously as Amani picked out a strange, squat animal. "Cute. I think I'll take... this one." He palmed a statuette of his own; a curling fish mid-leap.

Contemplating the carving for a moment, Alicio addressed the older woman, an apologetic smile on his face. "Thank you so much, but... is there anything we can do for you in return? Anything at all?"

- Amani Serys -

 

[Amani Serys]

Amani hummed in agreement, before her attention was overtaken by the figurine she had picked out. She quickly looked over to Alicio's and smiled, "I love it. It'll look nice in the apartment."

Mebita appraised the both with a nod, but in particular picked up on what the younger woman had said, keeping the conversation in Basic for Alicio's sake, "If you had one then, perhaps it was also one of mine, hm?"

"That's right, you said my had met my parents, hadn't you?" Amani blinked in realization, cradling the bird a little closer.

"Yes. They were such a nice couple. It was too bad they left. But I can not blame them," Mebita lamented with a knowing sigh.

"Did you learn why they left?"

The elder shook her head, "No, but time has not always been very kind to Mirial. Many of our people left to find somewhere better."

Amani nodded in understanding. She had expected something like that, but couldn't help her curiosity about the details. "Mirial used to be under the control of the Sith," she turned to Alicio know, offering a history lesson with a dry displeasure, "There have been some pretty big conflicts here over the decades. More often than not, the locals got it the worst." Getting caught in the crossfire between two greater opposing forces was rarely beneficial for any populace. But the Mirialans knew that more intimately than most. Mebita solemnly nodded in agreement, "Things have been better, at least. Not perfect, but, we rebuild." Amani couldn't necessarily agree with the Ashlans' dogmatic views, but they at least weren't quite so exploitative of the populace as rulers past.

Mebita seemed intent on moving things along, though, and reaffirmed her position, "But- No, no, I do not want your money."

Amani took out some credits anyways, returning to their native tongue, <If it's a time to give, let us give in return. Please, we would very much like to.>

Mebita grumbled, but ultimately relented with a smile, <Ohhh fine! You two are too sweet. Thank you. Now get out of here and go enjoy yourselves, before I change my mind!>

Amani set the credits down, and gave her a nod, <We will, thank you again, Mebita.> She wrapped her arm around Alicio's as they pulled away from the stand, so Mebita could deal with another approaching customer, "Well, that's that. Anything else out here catching your eye?"

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

"I thought so, too," he returned, keeping the giddiness from his voice at Amani's word choice. The apartment. Not his. The.

The story of why Amani's parents had left Mirial brought a sad, knowing expression to the Count's face. He'd researched the history of the planet while they were in hyperspace; for a long time, the Sith had left their mark on Mirial, until the Crusade claimed it. No one would blame a young family for wanting to find greener pastures in the Core.

Finally, Amani was able to convince Mebita to allow them to pay. Alicio picked out a few credit chits (perhaps a bit more than the asking price), and laid them sneakily on the table. Then, he bowed at the waist, offering a clipped, but sincere <Thank you.>

Linking arms comfortably with Amani, the senator continued their stroll in the snow. "She was very kind," he noted, smiling. Then, he glanced around, his thundercloud eyes flashing with curiosity as he saw a rack of long cloaks. "Alright. Last stop. I swear... Unless I see something else I like." He pulled Amani forward, admiring the line of outfits, before pointing out two.

"What do you think? This coat, or this cloak?" Alicio grabbed them gently from their racks, casting them over each shoulder, to get Amani's opinion.

- Amani Serys -

 

[Amani Serys]

"She's a funny old lady. You should hear how fired up she gets talking about cooking," Mebita had some very strong, traditionalist opinions on local cuisine. Amani smiled back, "Very sweet, though." They walked along a bit further before Alicio quickly spotted a rack of clothes outside of another stall. Amani had no complaints, she was glad to see him as interested as he was.

She took a step back to get a view of each cloak he had picked out, smirking, "That is a lot of fur," Each was given an appraisal, the mirialan rubbing her chin in careful thought before answering, "The first one is nice if you're looking for something a bit more… universal, I guess you could say. Second one's nicer if you're looking for something a bit more Mirialan." A shrug, leaving the final decision ultimately up to him, with a wink tacked on at the end, "You'd look great in either."

While he weighed his options, Amani glanced around to find a village square kind of area, where it seems several food vendors and cooks had been preparing and selling food. There was even a large fire in the center, over which some now-indiscernible ruminant was being roasted, "You hungry? Could grab some food if you want."

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

"You'd look great in either."

"Cop-out," he teased, leaning in to peck the Mirialan's cheek, before staring at the two options for another second. Finally, he chose the Mirialan-style cloak, shrugging. "Figure I should blend in, at least a little. And I admit, the first one was a little... gauche." Besides, the key to staying warm in the cold was layers, and the cloak looked incredibly comfortable.

After paying for the item, he fastened it around his shoulders, grinning a little at the familiar drag of a cape behind him. Alicio was glad to be embracing Amani's heritage. Tradition meant a lot to the Count.

He was quick to rejoin Amani, continuing their tour of the village, and arriving at a wide open square, with a hundred delectable smells mixing in the air.

"Sure," he replied, stopping briefly at a stall, and through a series of simple phrases and polite pointing with a spiky haired Mirialan, came out of the transaction with a stew full of starchy root vegetables. Once Amani also made her selection from the gathering of food stalls, Alicio found an open bench next to a small fire to eat at.

"Tell me about the tattooing ceremony," Alicio said, picking at his food with a utensil. "Did you have one? When you got your tattoos?" He studied the geometric patterns on her face, not for the first time.

- Amani Serys -

 

[Amani Serys]

"Cop-out,"

Guilty as charged. Amani just grinned cheekily and leaned forward for him to kiss her cheek, “It’ll look great on you,” She was similarly excited to see Alicio embracing her culture, and once he had the cloak over his shoulders, she expressed her approval of the look with a quick kiss.

With a bit of shopping out of the way, it was nearing time to eat. As expected, the sky was already tinting a warm orange, which made for a pleasant contrast with the cool surroundings. Amani meandered over to the adjacent stall, and through a decidedly smoother transaction, found herself with a plate of steamed dumplings, with a small bowl of savory dipping sauce in the middle of them. She took her seat beside Alicio, sitting close for warmth.

“Well, most of my tattoos I didn't really get at an actual ceremony. It was a bit less formal, because we didn’t live in a mirialan community. But in places like this, people will often get together to celebrate as a group. Usually an annual thing, in this case,” She gestured to the goings-on around them, before taking a big bite out of one of her dumplings. It was filled with salted meat and shredded leafy greens, making for a strong taste in tandem with the sauce. “They’ll gather around to share their worthy deeds over the last years, ink in the ones that haven’t already been done. Some of the elders might retell stories of their most virtuous tattoos. Other than that, the sort of stuff you see around you: Food, music, festivities.”

“The one I did with my cousin wasn’t quite this big. We just went into the temple there, and attended a smaller gathering with the clerics,” After another bite she pointed to the largest building in the village, which rested on top of a small hill overlooking the village square they were now sitting at, “They’re the ones who keep the big book of tattoos, consult them, and apply the designs. Again, assuming you live somewhere like this.”

Amani then set her dish on her lap, and raised both of her hands, using one to point at the back of the other. On it was a collection of small, geometric designs that came together to form an arrow-like shape, “This was what I got. Oh, and this,” She then pointed at the kite-shaped tattoo between her brows. “Each design has a different meaning, and there’s a ton. Real subtle differences can completely change the meaning. No one knows the entire lexicon by heart. Probably. Which is why we have clerics to consult.”

“How’s your food?”

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Scooting next to Amani, Alicio shared her warmth as he listened to her explanation, sprinkling in an understanding nod or a dip into his food every once in a while. The broth of the soup had soaked nicely into the vegetables, and the spiced, earthy seasoning brought it all together. "So... It's like a storytelling festival? But the stories are inked on skin, rather than paper."

The Count followed Amani's pointed finger towards the temple at the top of the hill, staring peacefully at the backdrop of ice and snow beyond. Of course, his attention was pulled back to his love quickly, as he set down his own bowl, pondering her tattoos once more. In many parts of the galaxy, inked skin was a declaration of rebellion against society. He thought it was wonderful that, at least on Mirial, tattoos were used to bring one closer to their community instead.

"Good," he said in response to the Mirialan's question, stealing another bite before responding again. "I was a little worried it would be mushy, but so far, no mush." He flashed a comforting smile, before reaching out delicately, and tracing the symbols on the back of her hand with a curious finger.

"What do your tattoos mean?"

- Amani Serys -

 

[Amani Serys]

Amani hummed, "Yyyeah. Basically. The tattoos are a pretty big part of our society in general. It's simultaneously very individualist and collectivist. No one person is going to have all the same tattoos, and they tell a personal journey of whoever wears them. But it's also about how those deeds have ultimately contributed to our people. Those with a lot of tattoos," She gestured back to where Mebita was, "are often highly respected in their community. Those with little to none, may not be given all the same courtesies."

It was something she didn't always take comfort in. Her cousin, for example, had very little marks. But it had nothing to do with her character, rather the unfortunate circumstances of her upbringing as a brainwashed Sith prisoner. The idea that some might treat her as lesser because of events beyond her control was disconcerting.

"How strictly that is enforced might vary from subculture to subculture. In this village, there is a lot of traditional value, but from what I've seen they are also quite welcoming, even to those other groups might consider to be of a lower caste." She shrugged, "I think the diaspora has lightened a lot of people's prejudices of their own kind, both in those still living here, and in those living across the rest of the galaxy."

Amani smiled and looked down at his stew, before raising a dumpling and wiggling it at Alicio for him to try. The Count's curiosity lingered on her tattoos, and at his next question she beamed, happy to share. She first pointed to the small kite between her brows, "Well, this one is a family crest. I didn't realize we even had one until I met Ran, who was looking for her family crest. Which is how we found out," A laugh, before she moved on to the triangles and diamonds on her cheeks, "These actually are representative of my growth and aptitude as a Jedi healer. I started with only a few, but more were added over time to match my progress."

Finally, her gaze fell down to the one Alicio had traced over: The arrow pattern on the back of her hand, "And that one… symbolizes redemption." A faint smile formed as she looked up at him. The first tattoo she got after returning from her fall to the Dark Side.

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

As Amani elaborated, Alicio found his contented attitude draining a little. He cast his gaze over the area, giving a more thorough look of the Mirialans' tattoos. As a passive observer to Amani's culture, it wasn't his place to judge. And there was certainly a lot of good to come from the tattoos, as people were rewarded for their contributions to their community.

But it didn't help the fact that discrimination existed. Lessening, as Amani explained, but it still existed. Something for him to learn more about, before passing any kind of judgment.

He was brought forth from his brooding by a dumpling waggling in his face. He scoffed happily at his girlfriend, before scooping up a bite of his stew, and offering for her to eat it at the same time. He smiled at the taste, then looked pointedly down at his own food with a frown, setting it to the side. "Those are... delicious," he said in defeat.

How did Amani's food always taste just a little better than his own?

As his girlfriend pointed out each collection of tattoos, Alicio watched on with immense curiosity, trying to memorize what each cluster of diamonds meant, and finishing off his stew.

"And that one… symbolizes redemption."

Alicio's face softened as he cupped her hand in his own. "I like that one," he murmured knowingly. Leaning in a little closer, he caressed the black shapes along her cheek with a loving thumb. "And they're all well-deserved."

Then his voice grew a bit soft. Unsure. "Sooo... um... If, say, half-Mirialan children were to theoretically exist... would they be allowed to get tattoos?" His half-hearted attempt at subtlety was easy enough to parse.

- Amani Serys -

 

[Amani Serys]

Amani knew Alicio intimately enough to know when he was slipping into that brooding phase. Given the topic, it wasn't hard to figure out what, "I don't really like it either," She smiled half-heartedly, "For what it's worth, in most cases, typical folks have enough that it's a non-issue. It's often only so clear with the more extreme cases. But my own cousin is proof of how that kind of mindset can still be misleading." Not even Amani herself was free of all presumptions. Though not quite because of tattoos, some were quick to judge based on her lack of a native accent alone. Mirialans were very set in their traditions. And despite the hardships, not everyone was willing to let go of their most stubborn ways, "Maybe one day they'll all start seeing that."

She distracted him with a wiggling dumpling, and he offered her a bite of stew. They both bit down at the same time, and Amani grinned, "Right? The stew's really nice too. I had that last time, actually." Still, the dumplings were better. He was a better cook, but she seemed to have a better eye for the finished product.

The conversation continued onto talk of Amani's own tattoos, and Alicio's appreciation of the last one made her smile gratefully, "Me too," His support always meant the most to her. And though it was never in doubt, hearing it was forever quick to warm her heart.

"Sooo... um... If, say, half-Mirialan children were to theoretically exist... would they be allowed to get tattoos?"

Amani blinked, then hummed knowingly, "Mhmmm…" It wasn't hard to pick up on what he meant by that. Her cheeks flushed a darker color as Alicio voiced his thoughts aloud, though it would be a lie to say she hadn't envisioned it herself. "They would…" She smiled through pursed lips, then leaned forward to give him a long, tender kiss.

After it broke, she coyly added, "Technically so would any hypothetical non-Mirialan parent of said half-Mirialan children. Or one who is linked with a Mirialan in some other way. Not that they would necessarily be expected to decorate their entire bodies in ink. Say, if they were a nobleman or politician, whose own culture had a sense of decorum to maintain that didn't necessarily view tattoos with the same reverence. Hypothetically of course." A grin, before she continued, "Nothing crazy. Perhaps just a tattoo that represents, I don't know, a declaration of love. One that they would share with their partner. Something small, on the hand or arm… If they wanted to." Such a symbol could then be expanded on to represent a betrothal and subsequent marriage. And eventual parenthood.

But for all her hinting, she wanted to try and make it clear that she wasn't pushing him into anything. An impromptu tattoo, even an inconspicuous one, wasn't exactly everyone's cup of tea.

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio cast a sideways glance at Amani as she correctly guessed the meaning behind his mood. He gave her an appreciative smile as she shared in his brooding time. "It's a great tradition, with a lot of good things able to come from it. I mean that." He tried to push the thought from his mind. He wasn't here to solve every social issue he saw, as much as his instincts told him to. "But... I hope they see that too. One day."

After partaking of Amani's dumpling, affirming her own tattoos, and springing his less-than-subtle question on her, Alicio grinned sheepishly, noting the Mirialan's blush. As a noble, with certain unspoken obligations, children were on his mind more than he cared to admit. Not that the sudden question seemed to scare Amani off at all. As she leaned in, he happily touched lips with her for a moment, or two, or three...

Her continued thought sparked some determination in the nobleman's eyes. He nodded once. "I'd be happy to. Hell, I'd slap one across my entire face to declare I love you, Amani. Although... I think I'd prefer an arm or hand." Alicio sent her an impish smile, before slowly returning to his feet.

For Amani, anything.

"So, next up on the agenda? Something about a play?"

- Amani Serys -

 

[Amani Serys]

"I know," Amani assured. They wanted the same thing, but it was hard to upend such a major aspect of an entire culture. Especially when the people who wanted to profess change were two outsiders, even if one of them was mirialan. 'One day' was all they could really hope for, for now.

Alicio's zeal when it came to the idea of getting his own tattoo made her laugh, "That won't be necessary, I think. But I appreciate it," Another, more brief kiss, "I like your face the way it is." His dedication made her feel warmer than the fire ever could. That he was so willing and eager to share in her culture, so genuinely engaged in each aspect of it. She hoped to get the chance to become as ingrained with his own people's history one day. This all only reinforced that.

They finished their food and stood up not long after. Amani had already almost forgotten, but Alicio reminded her, "Oh yes. In fact…" She looked around, before spinning behind them to see a large group of mirialans wheeling out a large wooden platform. It was a makeshift theatre stage, with a painted wooden panel on the back to represent the setting. At least for this first act, it looked like a cold tundra, reminiscent of much of Mirial. But there were also signs of destruction: cinders and ash, and a war-torn city off in the distance. Other stagehands then began to carry out wooden benches and seats, with onlookers grabbing them almost as soon as they were set down.

"C'mon," Amani pulled Alicio along to snatch a bench, nicely sized for two. And before much longer, the play was getting started, "I'm… not actually sure what it's about…" A few mirialans stepped on stage, dressed in what appeared to be raggedy military-wear, with prop blades and rifles. One of them stepped forward to speak, perhaps as Amani should have expected, in Mirialan. She grinned apologetically to Alicio, and leaned in to whisper, "Guess I'll be giving you the rundown of what's going on," He could pick up well enough on some of the key events if it was acted well enough, but some of the finer details may go over his head. The apparent lead then said a name, and Amani finally nodded in recognition, "Ah. Arwen Cohl. He's an… interesting figure." She twisted her lips.

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio accepted another kiss, a bit of a wry smile touching his mouth, and a glimmer of something unspeakably deep in his eyes. "Well, I'm glad to hear it," he said, chuckling a little. There was no drug as addictive as Amani's laugh.

The pair stood up after a moment, and Amani was quick to point out where the next event was. Alicio was about to suggest they walk over, before she began to pull him along, stutter-stepping so as not to completely biff it on the cold-packed ground.

After claiming a bench, Alicio rested a casual arm around Amani's shoulder, pulling her close to his side. "Well, I'm sure we'll figure it out soon enough." Once the first actor opened their mouth, however, they both realized simultaneously that Alicio would have a difficult time understanding. He gave her a tight smile as she whispered in his ear. "Whatever gets you closer to me," he whispered back, playfully.

At the reveal that this was a historical drama, Alicio cocked his head to the side at Amani. "Who was... Wait, don't tell me. No spoilers." He simply turned his head back to watch, eyes drinking in the small-budget performance as if it were a night at the operahouse, as the story was laid out before him. A war hero, a patriot for his people, being led away in chains by those very same people.

"Wait," the Count murmured, a genuine look of confusion on his face. "Did I miss something? What did Arwen do? Why are they arresting him?"

- Amani Serys -