Private Of Flowers and Empires

[Arcturus Dinn]

A continuation of The New Order​

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His verdant seat soon blossomed blue as Srina breathed her own life into what had become their joint creation. Temporary seat or not, it was a most pleasant thing to bear witness to. How they each left their impressions. The cerulean rose was positively beautiful, it stuck out from the vines and the drooping willow branches as though belonging to another plane of existence. In a way he supposed it did, certainly he'd never seen such on Jutrand though he hadn't seen too much of the world so far. Mostly the bustling cityscape, or his newly gained and reclusive home, Fort Kadath, in the wastes. Neither were particularly conductive to vibrant life.​

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The chair seemed to perfectly fit her, and for that he was grateful. It had been some time since he'd practiced such Forcely feats, so often focused on his artificing was he, it was nice to know that some things still held up. Even if some might argue them unnecessary.​

​

Arcturus did not believe anything truly unnecessary. They had their merits, even if not immediately obvious. Even if it required one to think outside the box.

"You're most welcome" he replied sincerely, as he knelt before her. There had once been a time when kneeling like this had been the only form of respite he really got, it had been so engrained within him... The one who bound the two of them was responsible for the upheaval of such, for permitting Arcturus to sit, to relax, to simply be. Darth Empyrean had pulled him from the quagmire, from a life of endless toiling, and look where that path had led him. Twice landed-Lord, a Darthed Knight in his own right, a family. He'd never thought he'd know a family after being torn from Ession, never thought he'd be anything more than an aurebesh-accompanied number.​

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Thesh#028... He'd likely never scrub that from his mind, even if the brands themselves had been burned away. A scar on his wrist, a scar on his shoulder, was all that remained on the surface. Deep down though... Well it was difficult to escape his past entirely, no matter how far he'd come since. There were still nights when he awoke in terror, drenched in his own sweat, or where he found himself entirely incapable of sleeping at all. Where the darkness pressed in, and nightmares ran rampant. While in the Netherworld he'd hardly slept at all.​

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Since leaving? Well, Ishani Dinn 's presence certainly helped matters but even that wasn't a fix-all.​

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"I do not balk at difficult tasks, Mother," he assured her, "My life has been trial after trial; at least any done in your name will be for a worthwhile purpose." She wasn't just some meddlesome scientist looking to poke and prod and pry, hoping to break him down into nothingness then rebuild him in a new shape. Though they'd only just formally met, he felt as though he could sincerely trust her, as though whatever she might ask of him would be worth investing in.​

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He felt immense gratitude, mixed with unworthiness, as she proclaimed that she granted him the permission to see her, and refer to her, as such. A mother... There had been a brief time, following the Invasion of Ossus, where he'd believed he'd had such again. Jen... Those months had been like no other, his kinship with Starlin Rand seemed impenetrable. And yet it had come to a close regardless. They were fundamentally incompatible. A Jedi and a Sith, their only common ground had been the preservation of children so young they should never have been exposed to dogma in the first place. Jen had treated him like her own, but even that was not to last.​

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There had been a hollowness within him since leaving Coruscant then, as though he was forsaking his only chance at having a family. Yet here he was, and here she was... A Father, and a Mother. To say nothing of his soon-to-be wife and their twins.​

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"I had hoped to seek an audience with you on the yacht also" he confessed, "Though no doubt I should have known better than to rely on such a convergence for pleasant introductions." That had been something of a disaster, hadn't it? Ultimately Arcturus had left the yacht with far more than he'd entered with, a Lordship position on Eliad, a home for his children to be raised within, and a Ward to watch over. Even so, it had been a bothersome experience all in all.​

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Thankfully she did not seem to mind his presence, even if she had been hoping to retreat into solitude. ​

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"Unexpected..." That was certainly one word for it, wasn't it? It almost surprised him to know that Srina had not been privy to such plans, it left him wondering why exactly she'd been kept in the dark. The rest of them he could understand... "It is a lot to digest, isn't it?" He offered her a kindly smile, then reached to his belt in order to retrieve a flask of fresh, arguably sweet water. Wherever it had been sourced, it was definitely natural. Some sort of spring perhaps. Either way, he held it out toward her should she find herself in need of a drink.​

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"I'm not exactly known for residing in Realspace for very long" he explained, when she questioned his choice of words, "I've long since made the Nether my home, though I do not belong to the ranks of undead who naturally inhabit it." Reaching up his free hand, he scratched at the creeping signs of returning stubble in thought, listening as she made her request. She wanted to know about him, from his mouth not that of another. Wanted to know of his life.​

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Arcturus looked down then, into his lap, and he turned his left hand over so that the palm faced up. The burn mark on his wrist was less noticeable these days, but he knew where it was, he could tell which patch of skin had been formed of Tsissar's meddling hand. He stared at it in silence for longer than he'd meant to, before finally nodding his head.​

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"I'm sure you're aware, I'm not my Father's biologically" he explained, not looking up as he did. "I was born on Ession, though I don't remember it much. Difficult... We worked the factories." He knew that much from the Spire of Destiny, it had revealed his past and also a glimpse of what might have been had he not been such a coward back then. Had he fought back... "The Empire came to Ession before my tenth birthday, wrecked havoc with Darth Carnifex at the head." ​

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It was a fact which had almost caused contention prior to his Father's announcement, though largely that had been Kaine poking at him, goading him on. Arcturus knew better than to try and size up against such a man, though. A titan is what the Zambrano was...​

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"I was taken with the other children, rounded up and sent to an internment camp. Made into little more than a slave." There was plenty more which could have been said, the experiments and the like, but he closed his eyes and brushed past it. He didn't wish to dwell on that, not right now. "When they found my Sensitivity, I was eventually passed around until I landed in Father's lap. Still a slave, at least initially, though he was quick to rid me of that. From slave to Apprentice..." Even back then he'd been looked upon more as a son than a student.​

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It left his heart yearning for Harpers Retreat.​

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Finally he looked up, and he was quick to banish the ghostly look in his eye as he did so. Had he said too much? Spoken for too long? Oh, but he'd barely scratched the surface.​

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Srina Talon ​

 

[Srina Talon]

| J U T R A N D |
| Triumverate Box |
x
Tag: Arcturus Dinn
_________________________________________________________​

Jutrand was a city-planet.

It was rare to find a small grove, even, one that was only present for training grounds. If either party looked closely at the nature that surrounded so effortlessly, they would notice the faint glimmer of synth-thread that helped keep the trees and roots live in an unhospitable landscape. While her poisonous blooms unfolded and filled the air with a sweet scent Srina noted that they too were taken in by the artificial. Green stems were a little too durable. Almost, laced with a malleable silver sheen.

Life did not come naturally to this world of wastes. It housed a civilization that was built atop a vast necropolis that had stringent Sith ancestry. Much of it had been forgotten to the annuls of time, but the malevolent sorcery was still evident. If—one knew where to look.

Srina was not unaware that their positions currently lacked equality. He showed deference by attending her in the first place. There was no reason for him to leave his love, nor, the assembly. Whether or not he was of the blood, mattered little, because he was the only son of Empyrean. Surely…Someone would seek to curry favor. Her head tilted in quiet observation that was graced with the faintest edges of curiosity. Such a sweet boy, man, on the surface. Sincere.

Was it a display for her benefit—Or was this his natural state of being?

The flaxen-haired Echani did not know which she may have preferred. She was not such a simple-minded Sith that she immediately equated kindness to weakness but there was reason for concern. As much as she enjoyed plain, truthful conversation, she couldn't help but wish Arcturus had some measure of a hardened heart.

If not…The Order—The galaxy would eat him alive.

"Good…", she breathed, coldly, and her aristocratic tones settled between them like an arctic wind. Srina wasn't unfriendly, nor unduly taciturn, but there was something that wasn't quite right with her mannerisms. They were eloquently stunted in such a way that she almost seemed like a caricature of what a Daughter of the Moon should have been. A life-like doll or HRD. Not flesh, not blood.

Silver eyes flickered and the ice in her soul momentarily cracked. Mother. Just one word caused humanity to flutter down around her shoulders like the efferent wings of a star bird. "Difficulties can make us resilient, however, I would see you spared in the future. I will never ask anything of you that I would not be willing to do myself. My name is…Unimportant."

It was a strange perspective.

The pale creature had spent nearly a decade being the right hand of a ruler that had sewn either loyalty or fear into the hearts of all he crossed. It was a successful venture, the Southern Systems, until it wasn't. Her notoriety had sprung from that history. She had a legacy of indomitable will. Of getting what she wanted, when she wanted, regardless the cost—Because it never occurred to her that it should not be so. To say that her name was unimportant… Was a form of insight. Into what she believed.

Not to the drivel that the masses spouted, frightened, and awestruck of a wicked Dread Queen.

Primrose lips took on a gilded and ghostly smirk at his admission that he had also wanted to meet with her on the yacht. It had seemed the perfect place. A neutral setting where he might not feel pressured to accept her, merely, because she had married to Empyrean. It was ironic, humorous, if only because her want to allow him time and space had unintentionally upended the entire event.

If Srina had gone to Arcturus in the first place, as intended, she would have been far less likely to clashed with House Io. "In truth I should have extended an invitation long ago. I…"

She paused and an elegant brow furrowed for a moment. Searching, for the words.

"I can be difficult. It is not the intent—But I know I can be…Hard on the senses."

It was a very diplomatic way of admitting that her personality was often not conductive to many social settings. That—At worst, she was a walking nightmare. At best? A pain in the ass so severe that planets had literally been orbitally bombarded just to get her attention. How it was that Maliphant had ever learned to see past her exterior or accept her inadequacies was a complete mystery.

She did not deserve him. But, she had chosen him.

And he had chosen her.

"It is…. Trying. I have had my fill of political intrigue and endless power struggles. With one nation on top, then another, and another. The majority of my life has been spent in service to others and I've worked hard to change that. To live as I please. This…This changes things."

It didn't faze her to speak honestly. Truthfully, about the current state of affairs. Though if she had been made an Empress…Had Arcturus not been made a Prince? Perhaps, he had yet to realize it. Srina accepted the flask of sweet water and settled into the wooden seat to listen to the history Arcturus offered. He would note her rapt attention. As if, for the moment, there was nothing of greater importance. Not her health, nor, the declaration that would shake Jutrand to the core.

Srina did not react, merely listening, while the past stole his present. She could see it. For not being blood related…He was eerily similar to his father. Her blood boiled at the notion of slavery. It had been the one thing the Confederacy had always been correct about denouncing. Always. It was cowardly theft in so many ways that she could scarcely describe it. Her jaw, tightened.

Silence.

When she moved it was…Slow. Like a statue coming to life in the light snowfall. He didn't know her. She didn't know him—But she beckoned him closer with an elegant curl of thin fingers. Arcturus would feel an intangible pull through the Force. A tug that could almost be considered gentle.

Speaking, for what she did not say.

'…Come closer, child mine.'

 

[Arcturus Dinn]

It was certainly true that Arcturus' heart was not so steely and strengthened as most whom the Darkside called to. If his life had gone untampered with he would likely have easily fallen to the light. He cared deeply for others, forged lasting friendships, and held a firm morality so long as his gutbeast was not permitted to rear its head. He'd struggled throughout his training to tow the line between fulfilling Darth Empyrean 's requests, meeting his expectations and making him proud, and sticking to his inherent nature.​

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All of that had been made obvious back on Ossus. Father had been calm with him, calmer than Arcturus had any right to be dealt with. His acts had been treasonous, yet he still lived and the words his Father had uttered to him after the fact still echoed through his mind. He had not saved those children, merely led them on to a brutal fate, facing the eternal wars of Sith vs Jedi, like some cruel pied piper. The Jedi would not stop twisting them into good little soldiers just because he'd let them go free.​

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One day he'd likely face them on the battlefield.​

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Her response to his declaration of fealty and trust left him with a tilted head, before he inclined it into a bow. "Your name perhaps, but I would do anything for family." She had accepted the role of mother, and that made her so. He was fiercely loyal and protective of those he cared about, most definitely to a fault. He'd tarnished his relationship with Ishani Dinn and the kids on some stupid notion that he could somehow protect them from the horrors associated with his life, tormented himself in doing so believing he was doing the right thing.​

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It was a difficult line to toe, but he was learning. Certainly he was getting better at it. Truth be told it was all still so new, having people to care for, people who cared for him. He'd been alone and desolate for so very long... A brief shred of grief washed over his eyes before he expelled it, squished it deep down inside.​

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"I have not found you to be difficult or hard on the senses" he stated ponderously, "I am glad we were able to meet under such circumstances, in truth. Away from the chaos... Though I do begrudge the reason for it. Please, forgive my asking but... Are you well? Is the fresh air helping, or do you need more than it can provide?"​

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Arcturus couldn't help but fret. She was a strong woman, formidable, which had only made her silent retreat that much more alarming to him. Though no other had followed, perhaps it wasn't out of the ordinary.​

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"Do you worry that you'll be drawn back in to living in service of another? Of an Empire?" He supposed that with the declaration Father had just made, that was the case for all of them. None could really outrun it if they were to keep their allegiances in tact.​

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The implications, what it would mean for him and his position in the Galaxy, had gone entirely unrecognized. Arcturus could hardly believe he'd been made a Lord, if the title of Prince was to accompany him he would not know what to make of it. Still none had stated as much, such had not been made official, so for now he could live in blissful ignorance.​

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He spoke instead of his humble beginnings, his path through the murky quagmire of strife which had led him to this point, while she drank the sweet water. Arcturus had hardly made a dent by the time that he tapered off, and in the silence which followed it felt as though his throat had closed up. When last he'd spoken so plainly about all he'd endured he'd been in a broken state, unable to be soothed even by Ishani Dinn though she tried. A quivering mess of a boy left broken and afraid.​

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Arcturus was not broken now, but it still roused from him painful memories and unnerving physical responses which tore through his core like claws gripping him firmly.​

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When she beckoned he felt the air beginning to flow once more, and without a word he slowly rose up from his knees to approach her at her woven seat.​

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Srina Talon ​

 

[Srina Talon]

| J U T R A N D |
| Triumverate Box |
x
Tag: Arcturus Dinn
_________________________________________________________​

"Anything for family. How very…", she trailed off, lightly, but not without a subtle note of mystery that could be hard to place, "…Echani, of you."

It was well-known that the Six Sisters took care of themselves first and foremost. Everything that they deemed within their purview to caretake, including, but not limited to Thyrsus was bound and tried by the blessed hand of the bright lady. She had given up her innocence to spare her family a bloody death at the hands of a greed-driven warlord. Any of her sisters, her mother, would have done the same if it would have been within their power. Perfect, loyalty. Absolute unto eternity.

It must have pained her mother deeply when Srina chose to seize control of House Talon by force. That agony had likely only compounded when she'd taken an outsider for her husband, rather, than a warrior of Eshan. "There will come a time when you must put your needs before all others. It will be difficult if sacrifice has become your calling—But when it comes to bear…You will know it."

Srina wished that someone had given her that advice while hurtling through space at break-neck speed and under the influence of unforgiving Force visions. She'd been forced to grow up on her own. Emotionally and otherwise. Few could see what she saw in Maliphant. Even fewer, grasped why she had chosen him in a sea of faces clamoring for her attention. Maliphant…Empyrean… Rhysion…He saw her. He had always seen her. When, she was little more than a lost apprentice play pretending to be whole.

He knew she wasn't. That—A piece was missing.

That he was it.

A velvet laugh pulled from her throat. Her emotionless face was like something carved of alabaster, with lips pale and perfect. Hair the shade of moonlit silk fell around her shoulders like a veil—But nothing was quite so notable about her appearance, save, that laugh. It was real and true in a world where nothing was as it seemed to be. "You haven't been around me long enough yet to make that distinction…"

"I have a tendency to speak my mind and I don't believe in small mercies. I will never lie to you. Even, when you wish I would."

Speaking, of. His sincere question about her well-being drew another half-smile from her. Her careful game of avoidance and omission had only lasted so long before someone of such moral fiber thought on it a little too long. Srina prided herself on hiding pain and discomfort but this was a trial like no other. She didn't know how her forebearers had survived months and months of gestational issues without so much as a peep. Perhaps, it was because she held two stars at the same time. "The air is helping…"

It wasn't a lie. She did feel marginally, better. There was just a small foot jammed in her ribcage that felt like it was stabbing her much to close to the heart. It made it difficult to breathe, but, she was determined to manage. Determined to keep them secret. Safe.

"I am merely…Exhausted. I served another nation for over a decade. Your father has his ambition and if he has his way…I will be drawn in no matter how I resist. I will be well, however, soon enough."

Her words trailed off as she settled to listen to her eldest child. If Arcturus really wished to become part of her world, he would find, that there would be zero distinction between himself and his younger siblings. She would protect them the same. Care for them, the same. Being a Sith did not mean that she could not protect, love, and secure her family. It merely meant that she wouldn't hesitate to burn the galaxy to embers to ensure their happiness. It was a selfish, soulless creed—But she would accept that for the contentment of her offspring.

Srina would try to give them…Everything.

When Arcturus came nearer she reached out and took his face in her hands. So much pain. He buried it like so many adults had been taught to do. As she did—Until it came bursting out with hellfire and the power of a thousand suns. It was not controlled passion, merely blind rage, and madness.

He was not broken. Yet, neither was he healed.

"I am sorry, hinya.*" (my child)

She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. It was delicate, soft, and unassuming. Srina could not take his pain. Nor, would she dream to. But she could offer a better present. A better future.

"If you ever have need of me…You need only call. I will hear you. I can be that vault and help carry the weight as a parent always should have. I can never replace what you were denied. I cannot right those wrongs and I know you have your life to live…But I am here, now."

Her words were delivered with all the empathy of a block of ice. It would sound like a robot. An HRD—Playing pretend at being human. It was in her touch, in act, that he would feel the truth. It was the same way that Maliphant had come to know her. To see past the mask.

Perhaps Arcturus would be able to as well.

 

[Arcturus Dinn]

Arcturus would have been lying if he tried to claim he knew much about cultures, even his own, that of the Lorrdian, was largely unknown to him, all that he had inherited was their kinetic communication, their keen eye for body language... and, he supposed, their history of oppression. That hadn't been because of his race, though. Just being in the wrong place, at the wrong time.​

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"Is that what you are, My Lady?" he inquired, as sensitively as he could, "Echani?" For all the lore he delved into, all the countless books he'd read in dusty old archives, he'd been much too focused on the esoteric, occultist texts. He would have to broaden his horizons where research was concerned, wouldn't he? Learn more of the Galaxy and its peoples, not just weird ways to shape the Force.​

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Her laughter did not feel cruel though it did dominate the space between them for a moment. ​

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"I prefer honesty" he countered, "Sincerity. I would rather face a harsh truth than be lied to, than be treated like a child unable to face reality as it is." He did not like falsities or deception, not without good cause, he'd always rather someone be honest with him however much it might have hurt. "You are correct, though, this is only our first true meeting and I would never presume to know you from such a brief interaction. Forgive me."​

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At least the air was helping some; she spoke of an exhaustion and he nodded his head in understanding of that. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he inquired, before she responded with a certainty insofar as soon feeling better was concerned. Best he lay the matter lay, then? It would not do to keep prodding and poking when she so clearly was looking to get away from it, not focus on it.​

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When talking about himself he seemed to almost shrink, as though pulled back to that realm he'd been stuck within as a child. Voice was quieter, eyes averted, shoulders hunched, even the way he was kneeling seemed to alter some, far more taxing and subservient than the more relaxed state he'd first knelt in. A faraway look in his eye and the way in which he chose to skip over details spoke far more than the words themselves did in many ways.​

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Then he was on his feet, then he was approaching her, and he stood before her with softly widening eyes as she took his face between her hands. He didn't look away, his expression did not shatter the way in which it longed to, he held her gaze and forced himself to be stronger than he felt.​

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He was rewarded with a kiss tenderly laid atop his forehead, and before he could stop it a tear trailed down his lips. Other than his beloved, who had ever treated him with such softened grace? When was the last time someone other than Rhiannon had placed lips upon his pale skin? He did not remember his mother, could not remember if she ever had though deep down he knew she must have. He had to have been loved once, right? Before all of this.... Not knowing ate at him.​

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Arcturus did not even really hear the tone in which she spoke. Being Lorrdian meant he was blessed with the ability to delve deeper than that, to see beneath the surface. They were excellent at picking up on subtleties, on actions, small changes in demeanor. A legacy of enslavement, forced mutism, had left the Lorrdian's seeking new means of communicating that could not be taken from them, and in moments such as these that was a most pleasant boon.​

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He did not mean to do what came next, he simply acted; wrapping his arms around her as gently as he could, he hid his face down against her shoulder and let out a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding nor could he say for how long he'd been burdened by it. What she said meant more than he could possibly say with words, so instead he conferred it by warm embrace instead.​

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Srina Talon ​

 

[Srina Talon]

| J U T R A N D |
| Training Area |
x
Tag: Arcturus Dinn
_________________________________________________________​

"I am."

The soft confirmation of her heritage was met with a fond lilt at the kiss of her mouth. She was proud of her people regardless of their transgressions or shortcomings. Few places in the galaxy could boast such graceful architecture or dedicated cultural phenomenon. The way they oft spoke to each other without a sound, without words, was a song of silence most would never come to appreciate. She didn't find anything strange about his lack of knowledge and took it in practical stride. "We are warriors, all, from cradle to the grave."

"We have an unrepentant need to belittle those that are less refined, if only, to prove ourselves different from the common warmonger…But we are very much the same. Every bit as ferocious and bloodthirsty. We just…", she trailed off, pausing, while reflecting on the aristocratic nature of the world that had raised her. It was one of the reasons that those on Jutrand seemed to bend to her will without question. Her husband was part of it…But the rest? It was just the echoes of rumor and reverence for a whispered legacy. "…Look better doing it."

It was easier for the galaxy to swallow honor-duels and polite combat over wanton murder. That didn't change the end result, however. Her people were lethality personified. Merely, justified by the utilization of etiquette to hide all manner of sin. "Eshan is the polar opposite of Jutrand. Everything is…Very green. We could visit one day—If your family would be amenable to the trip."

It didn't occur to her to mention the small fact that every member of her species tended to look relatively identical. She looked almost exactly like her mother, aunts, sisters, so on and so forth. It could be very hard for an outsider to spot the differences between them without using the Force to spot what made them unique. Even then…It was a trial. Srina grew quiet when Arcturus spoke of sincerity and honesty, still, concerned about her condition. Part of her wanted to let the secret go.

Let it out.

It was a heavier burden than managing this condition on her own. Even heavier, now, when she worried that both her husband and her son would forsake her for her silence. Would they not be able to see or understand the dangers of having newborn babes before the Emperor of the Sith Order? When their enemies ranged from the Jedi—To each other? Silver eyes settled on the younger man that requested forgiveness of his assumptions and she elegantly waved it away.

He needn't apologize to her. She was the one with a secret.

The white-haired woman watched while Arcturus began to wither from memory. Both from an abundance—And a lack of it. Echani eyes were keen to the point of being accused of using precognition or foresight to topple their opponents. This meant that Srina, unaware of his particular gifts, also missed very little. The slow change in his body language was something that told her more of his story than words ever could. His expression…She understood. The want for something he had scarcely known. The need to be strong. To stay stalwart in a galaxy that preyed on the weak without thought or care toward whether they would ever recover. He had a family to care for. People, dependent on him.

He couldn't afford to break.

Neither could she.

Srina drew the young man in without thought, unsurprised by the act, but by the gentleness he exuded. For one that had been treated so poorly in life, it was astonishing that he had maintained the ability to produce behavior that was well-adjusted. Protective arms wrapped around him, twining, like the wings of a divine bird coming to a close. The overwhelming presence that she unintentionally exuded shifted from that of an otherworldly threat to a devastatingly effective shield. He would find a bastion of safety in the shadow she created and an island of infinite acceptance. "Ni harya-tye, sin.*" [I have you, now.]

"Let it go…Let me carry it for you. Even, just a little while."

She often slipped into her native tongue when speaking things that had poor direct translation into basic. If Arcturus stayed in her orbit long enough he would likely pick up more than a few pieces of the vernacular. Naneth, especially. Mother. Srina knew that she could never replace what he had lost—But he would always be able to find comfort in what most people considered to be an inhospitable wasteland. Her. A family chosen. Not born, but beloved all the same.

"I am here. I will be, here, Arcturus. As long as you will have me."