Letters and Leaves

[Ilias Nytrau]

Location: Laekia
Timeframe: Days after the evacuation of younglings and padawans from the Yavin IV academy.

The galaxy shifted as sand, the tide rolled in and out with devastation. Life stops for no-one. On the approach to his nine-hundredth year, he had yet to lose any sense of his mortality, and would at times question certain facets of his ultimately finite existence, and evaluate how his time was spent. In recent years, one item of note - at the very least, of note to him - that joined the other reliable constants of his days were the letters exchanged between himself and one [member="Livia Maddox"], starship captain, and onetime officer of a very, very old friend from whom he had not heard in long enough that it had burrowed some concern into his subconscious... but only some. Manu Xextos could very well take care of himself.

Now, the letters. A habit started by a cup of tea, and a mutual affection for tea itself, they were the thing that truly bound him to the galaxy outside of his 'Jedi bubble', a thing of accomplishment for while tea was a habit, it was a far healthier one than those the captain had engaged in, previously. At some point or another, the fire-maned halfbreed had acquired a concern for her well-being that eked past the professional and platonic without his notice, and burrowed in; the fact of what had occurred within him didn't hit realisation until, one day, his letter-writing became a lot less straightforward, and all he had to say for it was 'huh'.

And that burrowed in, too, but he kept it to himself. It required more thought, and think about it, he did. He had been a man of not more than thirty when he had last dedicated more than a passing thought to what laid beyond friendship, in a time when sating the body was never questioned, but bonding of the heart was interdit, and nonetheless his heart had gotten involved. In the Coruscant temple, in the times prior to the Clone Wars of old, no less, risking an old oath that was now only taken by those who saw it as their true path. When the subject of his affection passed, he redoubled on the oath, and it followed him throughout the centuries. In time, when he gained the knowledge of what he was, the oath was superseded by a different concern based entirely on the very heart that had so nearly betrayed him.

He had countless centuries, a modest few millenia to go, at best, that guaranteed he would outlive any and all of those he cared for and loved. He already had, so many times before, bore witness to the full breadth and depth of the lifetimes of friends. As he stood in the modest cabin he maintained deep in the forests of Laekia, this day, such thoughts were the furthest from his mind while he hummed a tune that a youngling had gotten stuck in his head a good month prior, and pulled down dried lots of leaves for his blends of tea from the rafters. With the last one laid on his workbench, he picked up a mug of tea he had been nursing part of the morning and rewarmed it with the conceptual application of heat that generated as a side-effect of healing. Just as he went to take in the aroma and a sip, a knock rapped at the door.

"Huh," he said, "I wonder..."

But his senses beat him to the punch.

"...oh."

He set the mug on the workbench again, and went for the door, pulling it open with two fingers to see the very last person he expected to come calling... standing outside his door. His hand dropped from the door handle, eyebrows crawling upwards by an imperceptible measure.

"Captain," he said with mild exclamation, "what a welcome surprise!"

Oh, and he smiled. He sure did.

"Come in," he insisted, stepping aside, allowing her ingress, "please."

 

[Livia Maddox]

[member="Ilias Nytrau"] and his letters had salvaged what little free time Captain Maddox had in her days. Bound to ship and crew, the naval captain was a furious entity on the space lanes, a pirate hunter and explorer. She threw herself and her crew into paces many military minds thought insane. Livia had earned a name with her crew. Fury. The only relief her crew was given were in scientific diagnostics of new stellar phenomenon, the exobotanist's standing orders to find any plants of culinary interest, and the hours she spent pouring over Master Nytrau's letters.

At one point, her XO nearly passed out: The Fury could smile. He should have knocked before entering her Ward Room lest he die of shock. Truth be, Livia missed the Echani and their quiet diligence. She missed having a tight and silent Command Deck. She missed Ilias and his refined, yet humble wisdom. She missed falling asleep without the gaping pain in her leg.

For years since leaving Sabarene and her Admiral Xextos, Livia had been pushing her ship's engines to escape the uncanny pain of her mangled limb and what it had represented. To the crews of the Sv'Yato Fleet and her adopted brothers and sisters from Chandaar, her leg was the medal of valour: she never broke. She never spoke. She never let the Sith xar'chath touch her crew. That crew was gone, that life was over and now the young Naboo decided it was high time to visit the instigator of what seemed to be her only smiles.

At Ilias' door stood a woman in casual linen trousers and a jacket. Her palm had rubbed red from hiking up to the cabin with her cane. A bag jostled on her hip, secured over the opposite shoulder. She tried to hide the flush in her cheeks from where she had to park her speeder.

"Master Nytrau." A smile began to creep upon her face. She pressed her lips firmly together to staunch it. "I was in the Ziost system when I heard. Are you alright? I thought... Being so close...."

Entering into the cabin, Liv's cane thudded against the floor. She hated that sound. "I brought you a present. I hope you don't mind my dropping by, my crew didn't seem to mind the R & R." She stood on the other side of the door, leaning on the cane.

 

[Ilias Nytrau]

He tipped his head, in acknowledgement of her concern, but had caught the smile cut short a moment before and found himself wanting for her to smile with more ease and less concern for perception or reputation, as every being should, “I am alright, but thank you,” came the response as she crossed the threshold into his cabin; he left the door open a small crack, as the weather was fine. Bugs did not worry him, and larger wildlife could be calmly urged away… though the odd creature wandered in, and he honestly didn’t mind the company.

“I admit, I am used to students both old and new appearing at my door,” words said with frankness, “yet you are nonetheless welcome.” He had yet to be visited upon by an unwelcome guest, though it amused him to think that an unannounced guest could show up when he was not in, all part of a sense of humour acquired through nearly nine-hundred years of experience and galactic exposure. He gestured to a small table and two chairs fashioned from local wood, that stood near a window at the opposite end of the cabin from his workspace, inviting her to sit, “Might I interest you in a cup of tea? The pot is still fairly fresh, just needs a little warming.”

Though he knew she would agree to a cup, he always asked, as he did of every individual that visited upon him. It was rare for any of them to turn down a bit of the warm, soothing liquid, and he was considerate enough of a host to not subject them to blends that could be an ‘acquired taste’... unless they asked. Some did; most didn’t. Some found his hobby amusingly odd and archaic, and did even eight hundred years before, when it was not so full-blown.

[member="Livia Maddox"]

 

[Livia Maddox]

“Of course! Yes, of course you’re alright.” Livia dipped her chin. Ilias Nytrau was the fixed point in the Galaxy, the one essential star Livia needed to divine her star charts and navigational mathematics.

“I was worried.” Livia had to believe [member="Ilias Nytrau"] would recover from any situation without aide. Threading her lower lip between her teeth, the Captain entered into the homely cabin. The tension retreated leaden and wraith-like in her mangled leg, ebbing from her in shales which crumbled to the ground. The further into the humble cabin Livia went, the lighter her spirits became. She inhaled the fragrances, dried leaves and fresh lumber and stopped to shut her eyes. A gentle tug pulled her lips upward. She breathed air which hadn’t been funnelled and scrubbed through atmospheric filters and discovered an unbearable thought: The air would do her as well as the tea... And the man.

“Tea would be delightful! I'd be insane to turn down one of your blends.” Leaving her cane by the door, she tried to straighten her spine and walk with a bend in her knee. The pressure on the limb made her smile thin out into a timid line. Easing herself onto the chair, Livia let her limb stretch out beside the table. She pulled the bag from her shoulder and flipped open the top.

“It’s wonderful to be welcome, even if I am not one of your students. All this Force business, it seems so complicated.” Her eyes turned to the leaves drying above their heads. Students new and old… Perhaps it might have helped Andra if she’d visited her Master more often.

“I brought on an xenobotanist out of Mrlssi and gave her a standing order to map out all the flora on the worlds we researched through the Outer Rim and Wild Space.” As she spoke, Livia pulled vacuum sealed pouches out of her satchel. “We preserved the ones which had medicinal or culinary qualities. What better gift could I bring for the Tea Master, who couldn’t travel with me, than the fruits and leaves of my travels?”

She laid out the bundles, each labelled with her own handwritten script. The young woman pulled a hand through her tightly bound hair, hoping to smooth away the soft flush of pink to her cheek. “It was my way of thanking you for your fantastic letters.”

 

[Ilias Nytrau]

While [member="Livia Maddox"] seated herself, Ilias pulled down another mug, then lifted the teapot and tipped it to the mug, to fill it. Then, upon setting the teapot back on the counter, he set his hands around the body of the mug, and applied to it some simple warmth borne of the Force, whose 'business' she had just called complex.

"It can be," he admitted, "for to claim to know the will of the Force, is often one of two things: that the Force has in fact imparted it to you, or you are self-important and misleading others."

At that, his lips turned some humour, and he delivered the mug of tea to the captain, plenty warm, as she gave her reasoning for her gift. He looked over the laid-out pouches, selecting one from the table, reading the script, and then bringing it to his nose.

"Your replies have been thanks enough," he admitted, "that said," and he looked on her blush-tinged face, as he set one pouch down, and selected another, "these are wonderful. Thank you."

He took in the scent of the pouch now in hand.

"Hm, quite delicate," he lowered it from his face, and looked at Livia again, "we shall see how they fare in the local soil, and if they don't, well, there are ways."

 

[Livia Maddox]

"Alas, my intuition sees none of the self-important wind-baggery in you." She smirked, proud of her joke and hoped for even a smidgen of response - as Ilias' language was one of twitches, tugs and smooth transitions so far removed from the Echani's constant state of motion.

[member="Ilias Nytrau"]'s hands on her mug filled Livia with a brief, but thrilling moment of comfort and a spine-thrill of what many thought of as mere magic. Ilias' use of the Force reminded her of Manu, who moved thousands to save her. Manu's influence was an odd presence in the room, swirling around her as if to say, 'open up. Those are not the only flowers in your hands'. Livia let the tranquility of the space unfurl and tame the flutters in her stomach.

"That one's special." She watched Ilias' face. "I found it on the outskirts of a meadow on the tiniest planetoid in Wild Space. The entire planetoid was a place pausing on a relaxed breath. Not a sound, but the slow whistling of the breeze through reed forests. The planetoid nestles in a dark and harrowed nebula crackling with energy. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t let my ship pass. It was as if the planetoid called to me.” Livia shrugged and sipped her tea, nestling into the chair with a contented sigh.

“I sat in the meadow and watched the sun glint upon the flowers and the petals, which changed colour. Their fragrance reminded me of Andra’s favourite incense, which we would burn while she was Princess of Theed and I her rabble-rousing Handmaiden.” Livia grinned, a timid giggle bubbling from her lips.

“As the night settled, the flowers began to glow and the meadow became a speckle of multicoloured light bathing the storm-laden sky above. That was it. The place Andra led me to lay her and Mikhail to rest. When my xenobotanist told me of the flowers’ medical properties, I knew you had to have some. I named them Abhyaradha, after Andra’s regnal name. Best I could do for her.”
Livia shrugged. “A long-winded way to give you a flower, but I thought you needed to know. She spoke so well of you. It’s why I stayed so long in the Fringe, to tell you the truth. I couldn’t abandon Andra and Admiral Xextos, not after spending years looking after she’d disappeared. You all trust in the Force, so I must too, eh? Reasons of happenings and all that. I can but trust in what my heart tells me, her children are alive, safe and the flowers are beautiful.”


She leaned forward, fingers grazing Ilias’ arm. "And what would those ways be, oh Master Tea Smith?"