Private Shadows of Us

[Andrew Vance]

Seated in the rear passenger side of a limospeeder, Andrew gazed out the window, taking in the neon lights of Jutrand's cityscape below. Skyscrapers drifted past him like trees, as the limo wove gracefully through the concrete jungle, descending gently to its destination.

Not bad, Andrew mused, his thoughts never far from that of his driver and the speeder that carried them. His muscles braced for every turn, his ears tuned to every thrum and pulse of the ship's hull and engines. As a veteran navy pilot, Andrew paid particular attention to one's manner of flying and the condition of the vessels he flew in, perhaps obsessively and paranoidly so, given his traumatic war experiences. Fortunately his driver did not disappoint so as for Andrew to take over the wheel himself.

Whoever had assigned this chauffeur for him, knew exactly what kind of passenger they would be dealing with. Andrew slipped his hand into the fold of his suit pocket, fishing out an old-fashioned paper envelope. Cream-colored parchment stamped with an already-cracked, burgundy wax seal bearing an ornate letter "A". Breathing in the faint scent of lavender and wine, with a smirk on his lips, Andrew's gray blue eyes sparkled as they re-danced over the letter's contents, handwritten in an age-long perfected scrawl of deep crimson ink. . .

... ... ...​

Landing at the platform, Andrew reached for his handle, but a female valet was quicker, opening his door for him. "Thank you, ma'am." He stepped out of the limospeeder with a cordial nod. Andrew straightened his back and smoothed out his attire, patting down his navy-black suit to make sure he had all his valuables with him, before checking his hair, then pausing to take it all in:

Standing before him in all of its 300-story height and glory was the Qenoira Tower. Andrew tilted his head back to gaze at the magnificent structure. The swelling urge to burst into flight and scale whatever obstacle was before him, tempted him for a moment before tearing his eyes away to survey the atmosphere, pleasantly surprised to find he did not stand out too sorely from the crowds he saw congregated around and trickling to and from the Tower. Classier folk, judging from appearances alone.

Stars twinkled overhead. The night was just getting started. Andrew turned to his chauffeur. A pink-skinned male Twi'lek named Von, who had picked him up at his hotel nearly an hour ago, waiting for Andrew to collect his bearings. "Ready, Mr. Vance?"

Andrew released a short, anxious breath beneath his calm and coolheaded facade. With a smile, he gestured Von onward. "Lead the way."

Countess Anétresya​

 

[Countess Anétresya]

It had been a decade since she last seen him. To say she missed him was an understatement. After all, he was hers. But that was just the problem wasn't it? The Lady herself knew how possessive she could be, and Andrew did not deserve to be trapped in her hold. Even if they had not seen each other, Aurelia had eyes on him. Spies informing her about his whereabouts - still a pilot, living a life mundane. It was more to ensure his safety - at least that was what she told herself - with her enemies vast, they'd use any means to get to her.

He had a decade to himself, undisturbed by her, until recently. She left a letter, its contents did not hold a command, but a request asking if he'd like to meet, and allowing him freedom of choice, if he wanted to see her after all this time. They lived drastically different lives, it wasn't always like this, but with an immortal lifespan, change was inevitable.

When the intel came that he was on his way to Jutrand, she was more than ecstatic. She sent her own personal chauffeur, Von, to retrieve him from where he resided. Von would alert her through the intercoms when they had landed and Anetresya would start making her way to the Sky-Tavern to receive her guest. The doors of the turbolift opened to the lady all dolled up, wearing a red dress that accentuated her curves.

"Thank you, Von. " She said, dismissing the chaffuer, who closed the doors of the lift, returning down after delivering her guest.

There the man stood before her, everything about him was unchanged, just as she had last remembered him. "Andrew, its been a while. I trust that you had a smooth ride here?" she said softly with an endearing smile on her face. Yet she maintained her distance, as much as she wanted to embrace him in a hug, allowing him the liberty to approach her first.

Andrew Vance

 

[Andrew Vance]

The Tower had a little bit of everything, it seemed. The turbolift was a scenic ride in itself, showcasing the various floors from what Andrew could see through the glass and doors of his lift as guests hopped on and off. Bearing ever closer to his destination, he could feel Aurelia's presence nearby, like a tethered string, reeling him closer to her. Consciously or not, such a bond between Sangnir, both Force-sensitives at that, could never truly be broken or relinquished. At least, so long as he remained a Lowblood, unwilling to challenge his sire…

... ... ...​

Floor 297. Andrew held back in anticipation, his face already beaming as the turbolift doors hissed open and a few guests piled out, revealing Aurelia in her wine red dress. Her captivating blue eyes and inviting smile, hauntingly beautiful. She too held back, awaiting his advances. Andrew didn't hesitate to think as he strode forward to meet her eagerly, but not before giving Von a friendly pat on the shoulder in appreciation, waving off his chauffer.

"Very," Andrew replied simply. With adoration and yearning in his eyes, he wrapped his arms around Aurelia, pulling her into a tight hug and planting a tender kiss on the top of her head. Perhaps a too-intimate act that would lead baser instincts of guests around them to speculate something more between the two. And in a way, they would be right, though far beyond mortals' understanding.

Lavender and wine mingled with spiced vanilla cologne as he held her close. A shared embrace of the past ten years of joy and grief apart, just about brought tears to his eyes, as Andrew released his grip slowly. More than anything, he was relieved, glad to see Aurelia still alive.

"And you?" He gazed down at her. "How did you get here?"

Countess Anétresya​

 

[Countess Anétresya]

The man took a step forth, arms extended towards her and pulling her into an embrace. Anetresya let out a shaky breath as she melted into the hug, her arms coming to wrap around his the back of his torso. Eyes fluttering shut as his lips pressed against her forehead. She relished the moment, it had been far too long apart.

Her hand came up to cradle his cheek, her thumb caressing his skin for a moment, getting a better look at his familiar features, just as she remembered them. Now reunited with this man who she shared more than a centuries' worth of history with. Once friends, then lovers, then family... now... it was complicated, to say the least. Anetresya withdrew her hand, allowing it to fall to her side.

"I live here, just upstairs." She answered plainly. It was more than that, the entire skyscraper was hers, but that was a piece of information Andrew would find out inevitably. The Lady wrapped her hand around his arm, turning and leading them to the reception of the bar. "Shall we? "

A slender purple skin Theelin waitress would greet them. "Evening Lady Anetresya. Just the usual by the Veranda today?" She asked, clearly the woman was a very frequent patron. "Yes, make that two." Aurelia replied with a curt smile. The waitress would lead them to the much quieter balcony over looking the entire city of Jutrand.

As soon as the couple found their seats the attendant left. "And yes, Lady Anetresya is one of the few names I've assumed these few years." She was no longer Leia Notresvace. In fact, she had gone through and went by a handful of other names. "Tell me, are you still Andy the droid?"

Andrew Vance

 

[Andrew Vance]

He smiled at her touch—the soft caress of her fingers as they beheld each other's faces, staring deeply into her eyes—and hooked his arm for her to take, letting her guide him toward the bar. . . She lived here? Upstairs? Impressive… Blue gray eyes glanced around, observing the Sky-Tavern's exquisite décor and patrons, before turning to the Theelin waitress who greeted them.

One of his eyebrows cocked at the strange name—Lady Anetresya—uncertain if it was a case of mistaken - perhaps stolen identity, which he wouldn't put it past Aurelia to scheme. But with a lightly amused glance at his partner, he relaxed, finding her posture and tone truthful. That it was a name fairly won and earned by her, peaked Andrew's curiosity as he helped Aurelia take her seat first, at the balcony. Ever the gentleman for the woman he once and perhaps still cared for more than anyone in the galaxy.

"At your service, as always," he teased in protocol droid-like fashion, taking his seat across from Aurelia. Andrew had kept the same name and cover for almost a century, and didn't plan on changing it anytime soon.

With one hand, he flourished Aurelia's letter, holding the envelope between two fingers.

"Though… I assume you planting this, you'd know everything I've been up to." He smirked, curious as to how and why this letter came to be in his possession when a simple holo-message would have sufficed. Paper was not nearly so traceable, he supposed. Certainly a more personal gesture as it was endearing to him. With an arsenal of spells and spies at her disposal, it was almost frightening how Aurelia was able to keep track of him across the galaxy.

In the public eye, at least, it was "same old same old" for the last ten years about Andrew. Duty-bound was he to the Imperial navy, rarely far from the comforts of his cockpit or a military base. Fly some ships, tinker with others, and tour whatever sights in between during shore leave. He hardly ever took time off - willingly that is - except for special circumstances. Or in this case, a special someone who sat in front of him right now...

Countess Anétresya​

 

[Countess Anétresya]

She was doing just as the people he worked for did, keeping tabs. "Not everything." She stated vaguely. He was a pilot, and while she could easily plant a tracing spell on him, she allowed him this freedom.

"You know I don't like them." She said, but to dwell deeper into it would not be productive and would only spark another argument, the last thing she wanted today on a nice evening.

The waitress would arrive with two glasses of red wine. While it was more common for customers to be poured a glass from the bottle at the table, this was special. Wine mixed with a copious amount of blood. The waitress set the drinks on the table.

"Care for a drink?" Anetresya asked.

 

[Andrew Vance]

Them, she said. His employers, of course. Always a tense subject of debate, for as long as their relationship had been.

Likewise, Andrew would shrug off the matter for now, as the waitress brought out the drinks.

"Oh.? Later, perhaps…" He smirked, eyeing the curvature of Aurelia's neck with a ravish gleam, before glancing away coolly, to the wine glasses.

“For now…" He motioned a toast. "Here’s to us.”

With a swirl of the dark red liquid, he raised the glass to his lips, and took a small, courteous sip. Unable to fully hide his scrunched-up expression as he forced himself to savor and down the trickle.

Yuck.

No, even after ten more years, he still hadn't acquired the taste for cold, stale blood. Without anima, blood was of no high substance to him, no longer fresh and appealing.

Hot, and straight from the source. That's how he liked it.

Nonetheless, it would have been rude of him to reject a host's offering. Accepting a drink was a symbol of trust: A blood-wine toast, common practice among those vampire elite he was familiar with.

Setting his glass down, Andrew leaned back in his seat, staring out at the city and up at the stars. Here, the view was quite peaceful... Clear sky, clean air... Far above the skylane traffic and other skyscrapers around.

"So, this is Jutrand," he mused. "Reminds me of Coruscant. The Grove…" He glanced at Aurelia. Their quiet balcony, striking a memory of something familiar at a sky-high restaurant on Coruscant…

"Almost like our first date." His face softened. "Remember that?"

Dare he even let himself dwell that far back, less he become soppy.

Countess Anétresya​