Long Live The King

[Darth Ferus]

Krest was chilling in his throne. Night had fallen on the palace of Iridonia, stars lighting up the sky outside. With no pressing matters the current monarch was lounging in the throne room to stare out at the night sky. No one was there with him, he had dismissed his guard so he might enjoy the silence alone. His daughter was again among the stars, helping Commenor in it's rebellion.

It worried him that she was out there alone.

But for now he just rested, smiling at the sky he had come to love, unaware of a rather special guest making their way to him.

 

[Ariealla Vareldi]

Silence.

The sweetest of musics.

That was what the Songstress would play for now, as she walked quietly through the hall of Iridonia's King, her body and soul hidden from view. And with a slight tug at the minds of guards and staff, she could maneuver her way through, until finally she would reach the throne room itself. Silence... she would not be able to maintain such once she passed the threshold. Alas, she could not give the man a test truly earned... perhaps then she would try another approach. With a sickly sweet grin, hidden as she kept light bent around her, she entered.

If he failed to pick up her footsteps, muffled as they were, she would be sorely disappointed. Though she doubted he was unaware of her by the time she reached the center of the room, partly because no muffle was complete and Krest was no fool, and partly because she dropped the Cloak, and her regal cape, with a delightfully sick smile. "Greetings, Lord Krest. I've come to kill you."

[member="Krest"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

"Ah, that's why you're here." Krest spoke up after [member="Ariealla Vareldi"] announced herself, but he knew she was here. A lifetime of training Assassins had him making new ways to detect them. An endless and vicious cycle of those trying to sneak on him and he keeping his guard up enough to notice their arrival. "I take it the Butcher King has finally tired of my actions? Odd he'd send someone I don't know when he could have sent Ophidia. I always thought he was far more dramatic than this." Casually he swung his legs from their resting spot on one of the arms to rest on the ground again.

"Do try and make it quick, I fear what would happen if you took too long." He slowly stood, blatantly leaving himself open to attack. Cockiness, or a trap? He dared the Sith to try and find out.

 

[Ariealla Vareldi]

"I would suggest he saw wisdom in sending an unknown, but alas I fear this is a personal call." She never let the smile leave her lips, as she lifted one of her arms up, the palm facing the King. What would be expected, normally, would be something more, violent. With any luck, the King would recognize this, and be unprepared for the reality. Instead of a blast of power, she assaulted his mind. Force Suppression was, something of a mind trick. It might take some sort of divine providence, but if it worked he would be... convinced of his connection to the Force fading, blurring, or cutting completely. Even if it wasn't.

"Well then, let us dance." She produced her saberstaff, the violet blade igniting from one end as she began to slowly stride forward. Step, step, step.... in time. Three four then. She would enjoy herself greatly then. She brought the weapon up, and gave a swift swing at his midsection. Not a full hearted swing of course, but one to get the dance underway.

[member="Krest"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

Krest slowly raised a brow as [member="Ariealla Vareldi"] spoke. Not at her words, but at the sudden numbing feeling that was overcoming his body. It was a familiar sensation, one usually born of a poison his Assassins employed during his time as a Sith. Not that he built a counter to this. His blue eyes narrowed as he focused on the woman before him and the saber she brought out.

"Personal? I suppose I should be flattered." While not gone, his connection of the Force had dimmed. No longer could he hear the whispers of danger that had alerted him of the Assassins arrival. Still, as he flexed his fingers he could feel some semblance of his connection. It would have to be enough until he broke her focus. As she lit her staff up and began her walk over he pulled free his own sword, lighting up the green edge along the altered steel rod to complete it. He watched in silence, and when she struck with the obvious attack he brought his own sword around.

Not to defend, however. In a vicious and quick slash he aimed to bisect her from hip to shoulder. It wasn't that he had forgotten about the staff though. Instead, he simply swiped his mechanical hand for it. To most, this was a suicidal maneuver. Suppressed as he was he couldn't block the energy and all he'd succeed in doing was having his arm chopped off while he was cut in half. If not for the cortosis ore layered below. Once the saber burned through the durasteel plating it would collide with the ore, shutting it out immediately with a terrible crack.

She could take away his tricks in the Force, but he always had more.

 

[Ariealla Vareldi]

What kind of fool brought a single weapon? Always a second knife, an assassin must wield. So while her staff was caught by the durasteel arm, and with a sharp crackle and fizz would become useless, her free hand motioned slightly. From the purple cloak resting on the ground, in a sharp flash and with an almost singing whirr, her sith blade came from hiding. The alchemized blade only barely reached in time to prevent a fatal blow, the blade almost close enough to split flesh as the blade rested between her and it.

In the span of seconds the flow was set. She liked this man.

She wrapped her fingers around Obbligatto, her blade's hilt, the solid weapon in her right hand as she simply slid out from under it. With a casual toss, her saberstaff was sent to the side, her sickly grin only growing. "My my, cortosis. I approve, it's been so long since I've had to deal with such a pesky material... 'tis a good thing then I always carry a second."

She gave her weapon a couple of swings, pointlessly forming a cross before her, before she lifted it up between them. "Well, this will be a delightful dance. Don't you agree?"

[member="Krest"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

With the space between them the aged King watched [member="Ariealla Vareldi"] as she spoke and moved. He was studying her. A Sith for sure, given her apparent lust for bloodshed. How long had it been since he too felt that desire, that need to kill and inflict pain? The joy he felt when he did? Such was the path of the Dark.

His eyes slightly twitched as she swung her sword, the odd 'song' of the blade grating against his ears. Clearly she had modified the blade from a basic Sith Sword. Still, he kept his stance, holding the green edged sword in his hand as he watched. "I suppose it will be." He knew nothing of the Sith before him, and whats worse his influence over the force was still deadened, so he would stand and wait, watching for her next move.

 

[Ariealla Vareldi]

"Well, I suppose I'll have to lead then, won't I?" She gave an intentionally grating giggle, before closing the distance between them. Step by step, Obbligato giving gentle whistles from the simple movement through the air, even though she held it steady between them. Her beloved singing companion practically thrummed with anticipation, the whistle and 'singing' growing sharply in dynamic, as she moved swiftly into action.

She ducked a bit lower, as though about to attempt going for a low blow at his midsection, or lower. However, as she counted steps towards him, she stopped suddenly, and stood upright, reaching forward with a thrust up at his neck. She held the weapon with only her right hand, her left reaching back above and behind her, as though she were some ballerina in dance.

[member="Krest"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

Krest gave the most polite nod one could do while seething under a grating noise. Between her laugh and her sword the Zabrak King was rather furious. Simple tricks, but effective. Yet, as she moved his eyes never left her form, always watching, always preparing for something more. This was how he fought before the Force after all, and he lived long enough to learn it. Though, not in one piece.

When she came low he met her, surging forward in an almost mimicked fashion. When she played her feint he continued going farther down, under her sword enough so to bring his own up in a single powerful slash for the extended weapon. He wanted to knock the blade from her hand. Unlike her however his free hand came around, aiming to punch her right in the stomach with it's cybernetic strength.

 

[Ariealla Vareldi]

The first impact was of swords, with the pure metal blade sent flying upwards, though still firm in grip. Part of dancing was fluidity, and even a sudden jerk such as this only proved to be a minor inconvenience, a shifting weight. So she would try to change position, lean back instead and swing her leg up in a kick towards her opponent's jaw. All in a fluid motion, of course. However, there was a second impact, of flesh on metal, which was far less simple to deal with. She would have to find a way to roll with the blow, minimize it... she lacked the strength to directly oppose it after all. So she twisted her body, to try and roll with the punch.

The pain flashing through her head from the impact would be quite horrid, but as she staggered back from the blow her focus on maintaining Suppression was what first mattered. Krest was strong, he clearly had lived without acknowledging the Force. But even so, take it away now and he still would feel it. Loss of concentration for a moment would spell doom, she could never hope to match him in a contest of pure strength, which the Force would only enhance for him.

"Oh what strength! Though what comes from man and what comes from machine, I wonder? I would be so delighted to find out." A light flourish of her blade, and again she would come to dance. Of course, her steps were a bit more, haggard, though time was still kept on the approach. She ran her hand down her blade slowly, the blade humming and, crackling, as she put just a bit of lightning into it. Sparks, to see how his body would handle it. And then, an easily blocked swing, aimed at his cybernetic arm.

[member="Krest"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

The kick smacked into the side of the Zabrak's jaw, yet he remained unmoving. Unforgiving eyes stared down at [member="Ariealla Vareldi"] as she staggered back. A bruise slowly formed on his ashen skin, but he seemed to pay it no mind. "Enough of these games, assassin." With those simple words uttered he now charged forward, his green blade in both hands. Annoyance at how long he had been cut from the force was clear in his tone, yet his movements showed no such distraction. When her electrified sword came around with another easily blocked swing he brought his own down with a savage downward slash.

His blade absorbed the lightning much as a Sith Sword should, but it didn't seem to keep the charge. In fact, the green edge popped out of existence as if it had hit raw cortosis. But the King didn't seem to care. He now pressed the attack with what amounted to a metal rod, swiping with heavy strikes to overpower his foe quickly.

 

[Ariealla Vareldi]

"Temper temper! We haven't even made it to the first chorus yet, we still have most of our song left." Another giggle, and she shifted her blade's angle so as to slide it free and away. Well, if Krest wished to be on the offensive, that suited her just fine. She would play defensive, her footsteps soft and light as she slowly backpedaled, allowing him to press his reckless assault. IF she couldn't very well avoid everything nor stand against the contest of strength, she would employ another standard tactic. She would angle her blade, the strain of the force impacting her sword and traveling up to her arms, but with an angle so as to slide harmlessly away from her body.

She wouldn't be able to keep it up for long, of course. The strain on her arms with each impact wouldn't allow it. Instead, she waited patiently, looking for a moment. Thinking she spied one, she again let a strike come, and used her weapon to deflect the blow as greatly as possible. However, she planted her rear foot, and stepped in. This leg of his didn't seem, right. She reached slightly with the Force, and sent a jolt of electricity, enough to short out a computer, at his oddly lead foot. "You don't seem accustomed to dance, your stance isn't quite right."

[member="Krest"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

There it was. [member="Ariealla Vareldi"] 's suppression had limited his ability to sense her attacks, but he could see her next move. What would be a crippling zap of electricity to his mechanical leg. What could actually kill him if it traveled through his body enough to short his artificial heart. That wouldn't do. As he smashed his blade against hers again his own hand came down to catch hers in it. A grin formed on his lips as he absorbed the shock.

He wasn't completely cut off after all.

With the surge given by her lightning suddenly empowering him he swung his hand around quickly, aiming to snatch her by her throat to slam her to the ground.

 

[Ariealla Vareldi]

How wickedly delicious, perhaps he was suited to dance after all. Well, perhaps just one last thing before her judgement could be passed. She didn't move to avoid the hand reaching for her throat, at this point to move that far back would mean completely loosing her hold over his connection to the Force. While that would certainly restore some measure of her own power, seeing as she would not have to devote energy to the ruse, she would prefer to test him as close to raw as possible. So instead, she moved her arm back swiftly alongside his. Rather than slamming her by the throat, he would instead drag her down by the arm.

Which helped to mask her trick. Reaching with the Force, her lightsaber would lift itself from the ground, and come hurtling at the man's back. The blade would only ignite moments before impact, to minimize sound, but she was curious if he would be able to avoid it. OF course she was at risk too, the blade would almost certainly cause her pain and suffering if it impacted as it was aimed, for that lethal blow. Yet something in the back of her mind suspected they would both be, mostly fine.

"My My, you certainly know how to handle yourself don't you?"

[member="Krest"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

The Zabrak let out a sigh of relief as the Force finally returned to him. He could hear the calming wordless whispers that had saved his life time and time again. With his hand around [member="Ariealla Vareldi"] 's arm the King grinned ever so faintly. She was only testing him, he could see that now. And yet, she had given him a rather fun fight with such a brash handicap. With a quick tug he would spin the Sith as if they had actually been dancing and dipped her low. His own sword clattered to the ground as he caught her by the small of her back, his grin widening.

"You've given me quite the show, my Lady." His hand on her arm let go as he suddenly reached back just as her saber came flying towards him, catching it in an instant. "But I think if you wanted to kill me this wouldn't have been the way you'd do it. Tell me, what is your name?"

 

[Ariealla Vareldi]

"Of course it wouldn't, I am an assassin. Such direct methods aren't my taste, though you've danced wonderfully for such a heavy foot." She practically cooed the words, as if to tease the man even still. Her ruse was up, he understood well enough what had been going on. And so she dropped the pretense of fighting, what grip she had been trying to hold being released (even though it had come to be ineffective). Obbligato returned home to its sheath, quietly as could be for a sword afloat with the Force, while her hands took a proper position for dance.

"My name? Perhaps it is Amelia, or Samantha, or Padme. Perhaps it's all of them. Perhaps none. The truth? 'Tis all of these and more... but you may call me Ariealla Vareldi." She chuckled softly, putting one hand on Krest's shoulder. "I trust you don't intend on ending this dance too?"

[member="Krest"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

"Well, Lady Vareldi, I've no intention of this dance at least ending here in this room." The Zabrak quickly lifted her back to her feet, keeping the one hand on the small of her back while the other ever so casually slid [member="Ariealla Vareldi"] 's lightsaber back into it's sheath on her hip. He never let his eyes leave hers, both out of curiosity and of course, because she was a Sith. He had trained enough Assassins to know the threat was never over until they were dead.

"What say we take this somewhere more.. Comfortable."

 

[Ariealla Vareldi]

"Oh ho, how direct. Well My lord, pray tell how I am to be so certain you do not simply wish to put me in position to kill me swiftly? After all, 'twould be rather easy to slit my throat at such a distance, would you not agree? Or perhaps more appropriately, crush my head with your less-than-original arm." She chuckled lightly, her scabbard and royal cape floating over to her in quite the, dare she say, majestic manner. Though not exactly proper dance wear, they did make the dance more, visually fitting. A king and self fashioned queen.

She placed her other hand at his hip, allowing him to take the lead. "Perhaps you could alleviate my concerns?"

[member="Krest"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

"My my, that was my own concern." The Zabrak king teased, casually leading them in a slow music-less dance. He had enough sense of rhythm for the silence to not affect it. After sheathing her saber Krest rested his hand on her hip, keeping her close. Not for a reason most would assume. An assassin with no room to move posed less of a threat then one with space.

Not that he wasn't enjoying a dance with a beautiful woman.

"Though I suppose it would be in poor taste to spend the night with someone who snuck in with an intent of ending my life. What would the commoners say if they heard of such a scandle?"

 

[Ariealla Vareldi]

"Ah, but I came here to kill Lord Krest. I'm afraid I do not see him, perhaps I was mistaken. I only see a king, and a potential ally. No, I must have been mistaken." She half sung the words towards the end, evidently she couldn't resist her musical inclinations even inches from a man she had very plausibly come to kill. Games such as these, words and tones, that was nearly as much fun as killing. Nearly. Admittedly she much preferred the taste of blood to the taste of politics but, beggars couldn't be choosers.

"Mmm... perhaps the next Lord I hunt will be more... present shall we say? In body and mind. We would hate for them to focus ahead with no heed to what else may be present."

[member="Krest"]