Private To Swallow A Bitter Pill

[Astor Daaray]

A PRIVATE VILLA
OUTSIDE OF TA'A CHUME DAN ☛ HAPES
Briana Sal-Soren

He should be happy. Happy that he was the intended of a well-regarded woman, happy he was not the second, third, or worse, for the woman that was to be his wife, and for all that anyone could see, it was a good match… but he knew very well the kind of life he was ultimately facing. A life that had never looked the same since that one Nabooian girl, a Jedi no less, came into it and gave him a taste of different.

He had felt as the legendary Isolder must have felt, awed and enraptured, but she left him broken as a Hapan man, irrevocably changed by the very shift she worked into the landscapes of his thoughts and desires. She made him her equal in their private moments, and left him wanting for that very thing, which no worthy woman he knew in the whole of the Consortium would give.

But he tied his own hands, and suffered in silence, knowing the price he would have to pay for such wants. Leaving everything he knew, the family he loved, with no view of what would become of his life were he to abandon his post, then, was a price too high, but still the conflict of fealty, tradition, and his desires remained within him.

And beside him, now, overlooking the lake upon whose shores his own private villa sat, was she who was ultimately responsible for how trapped he felt, for without her, Pal’da Astor would have played the predestined part in his life, and been none the wiser.

“I hope this location is to your liking… Duch’a now, is it?” His strawberry blonde head turned, and sapphire eyes fixed on Briana, taking in what differences he could find in her, these few years on, “I thought the familiarity and seclusion would be best.”

It was of course non-negotiable. She may have been a woman, but she was a foreigner, and he was a Prince of the Consortium. He did have some degree of power. He pushed off from his lean over the rail now that she was here, gave a fleeting glance to the newest jeweled ring to adorn his hands, and smoothed out his tunic.

“I admit surprise in hearing from you,” he tried on a smile, but found it too thin, and abandoned the attempt, “beyond, even, that a holo after years with no word at all wasn’t sufficient enough for you to convey…” he swallowed, dryly, and his eyes narrowed, then closed briefly as he looked away for a moment and sighed, while the knot in his gut twisted. Astor waved off the two Chume'doro that had escorted her to him with an irritated, dismissive gesture, and they retreated well out of earshot quickly; once they had, he gestured to the table set for two, with a carafe of water, and for refreshments that were forthcoming, “...why are you here, Briana?”

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

Outfit: XoXo | Equipment: Lightsaber, Echo Stone | Tag: Astor Daaray
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“I hope this location is to your liking… Duch’a now, is it?” His strawberry blonde head turned, and sapphire eyes fixed on Briana, taking in what differences he could find in her, these few years on, “I thought the familiarity and seclusion would be best.”

"It is, yes... and, I'd prefer that you just call me Briana. I know it's been a while, but I think we know each other well enough to forgo formalities, don't you, Pal'da?"

Her cheeks flushed as he turned to face her, his strawberry-gold hair catching and holding the light as if it were spun from the sun itself, while his eyes, that had always reminded her of rare sapphires, flecked with gold around the iris, and practically glowing in certain angles — fixed on her.

When they were together, all sorts of gossip about the Prince had reached her ears, but none was ever quite as on the nose, or as amusing, as the rumor claiming he was perhaps a god, come down in human form. But while most only thought this because of his pretty face, Briana had been privileged to see another side of him: the intelligent, inscrutable mind that he possessed. Astor was… infectious vibrancy...an energy that was at once carnal, but also elegant, and gentle — when he needed to be.

It was always just... bogged down, buried beneath the layers of a society that was determined to keep him gilded and caged.

“...why are you here, Briana?”

"Do I need a reason?" She gave him a smile, trying to match his, though it faded into a frown rather quickly as he turned away, her brows pulling together.

For someone about to get married, Astor didn't appear overly...joyous. Surely, her presence alone hadn't soured his mood? At least, it shouldn't have, not for someone whose impending nuptials were right around the corner — former history withstanding.

Waiting for the Chume'doro to leave, Briana crossed the expansive room to join the Prince, sliding into one of the upholstered chairs closest to him. "I could give you a dozen different reasons for why I came. Maybe I came out of courtesy, to pay respects to an old friend. Maybe I just felt compelled to offer congratulations in person. Or, maybe... knowing you... I came to see if you were happy. If you were okay." Ignoring the refreshments, Briana rested her hand over his one with the ring that he kept looking back to, as if blocking it from view might alleviate some of the burden that seemed to be dragging him down into the depths.

Maybe he would pull away, rightly tell her that she had no right, and no place, to interfere in his life like this now, remind her that she'd lost that right to care about his happiness the moment she'd refused his ring years ago.

Perhaps he would be right in that assessment, but, Briana held on anyways, searching his face for the honest truth. "You know that you can say no, Ast." Of course, she knew the consequences of saying no at this stage in the game. Even with the Galactic Alliances equality mandate, backing out of the arrangement would bring shame to his sister and the crown, would ruin his reputation in Hapan society. Potentially even her aunt's Eline Djo 's reputation by association, for her hand in it.

But, anything was better than this. Than shackling yourself to a person that, by all rights, he did not seem to love. "If you don't want this, if you're not happy, then just say the word and we'll go. I'll take you to Naboo, or anywhere else that you want."

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[Astor Daaray]

A PRIVATE VILLA
OUTSIDE OF TA'A CHUME DAN ☛ HAPES
Briana Sal-Soren

Once Briana turned to seat herself, Astor did likewise, slipping into the other upholstered chair, facing the Jedi woman, who had nearly been the love of his life, once upon a time. He folded his hands one into the other upon the table, leaving the ring that signalled his betrothal outward. That felt awkward to do, for he always arranged his hands with the left under the right, rather than this way around, but Astor didn’t wish to feel that ring digging into the opposite palm when it already felt enough like it burned around the finger on which it sat. He had only made that mistake once.

As she spoke, answering his question that was as much rhetorical as it was actual, he began to feel a pang of remorse for reacting to her as he had, for her reasons were honest and caring; his mouth resolved to a line, and his brow creased delicately, but he kept his gaze on her - a willful act in defiance of how he felt, and how he wanted to avoid looking her in the eyes because of it, yet when Briana laid her hand upon his, obscuring the sight of that token of impending enslavement to a woman, he couldn’t help that his eyes were drawn to the occurence.

Astor wasn’t sure how he felt about being touched, least of all by her: it too easily reminded him of how she always did the same thing in drawing him out of the invisible yet no less gilded cage that he was still coming to terms with, then, having been made to trade a life of purpose and highest service to the crown, for one that saw his days become so much more restrictive than they had ever been before; how she sifted through layers upon layers of societal conditioning to find him… and how his flesh cried out at the absence of her, craving for her closeness once she had went beyond his reach.

"You know that you can say no, Ast."

The inner hand curled into a fist, and he swallowed hard, choking down all that such a simple touch threatened to unravel, and in that, swallowed the protest that tried to well up in his throat. Protest against the contact, and an uncivil rebuke for speaking to what she did not understand. Poking her nose where it didn’t belong. He could. He had every right, in the narrow spaces that separated her from him on a societal level… but there were so very few people he could wholly trust. That she was an outsider, and had never presented anything less than truth in her words, even in their most intimate of moments, made her the ideal person to unpack his concerns; her sincerity in this domain of snakes vouched for her entirely.

"If you don't want this, if you're not happy, then just say the word and we'll go. I'll take you to Naboo, or anywhere else that you want."

Leave? There was nothing more frightening, and he hated himself for that fear. Fear had no place in the mind of a chume’doro; reckoning with how far he had fallen from that ideal was the darkest collection of days in the entire balance of his memory. What had he become? How did more power, more command over his fate make him feel so powerless? Astor unloaded a heavy sigh, then pulled his gaze up, returning to her face.

“You should know I cannot do that,” he began to reply, as his face slowly set back to neutral, his mouth resuming a line as other lines relaxed - as he put back on the mask, though his hands remained where they were, “do your Jedi senses not feel the disquiet in the realm?”

Even he knew it, woven as it was between the spread of emotions stoked by the literal cutthroat nature of Hapan society.

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

Outfit: XoXo | Equipment: Lightsaber, Echo Stone | Tag: Astor Daaray
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“You should know I cannot do that,” he began to reply, as his face slowly set back to neutral, his mouth resuming a line as other lines relaxed -

Can't, or won't? The retort came sharp and swift in her mind, nearly bubbled on her lips, but died before it ever passed the threshold. She'd grown enough in the years since they'd been apart to at least have enough grace to curb her tongue from time to time, and not rehash old disagreements and push him further away and into himself. There'd been layers of reasons and decisions that'd gone into to the rejection of his heartfelt proposal five years ago, much more than her merely wanting to see the Galaxy before eventually deciding to settle down.

She'd known, even then, Astor would never willingly step away from the life that kept him trapped on Hapes, a life that would have effectively caged and suffocated them both into an early grave. Why did she expect anything different?

A soft breath of resignation pushed from her lungs, her thumb rubbing back and forth over the top of his hand in comforting circles, glad that he'd at least allowed for this small level of contact to continue, a kind of olive branch extended between them — even as he attempted to put up some distance.

“do your Jedi senses not feel the disquiet in the realm?”

Her brow furrowed, blue eyes shading with puzzlement. "Hapes is always in a state of disquiet," The rhythmic circles she'd been tracing stopped, "It's been worse since the Equal Rights act." Briana admitted, "Upending hundreds of years of tradition like that?" Old customs had a way of clinging to the bones of a people like a sickness, especially when it came to a people like the Hapans who were ever resistant to change. "Of course there are going to be consequences." Briana released his hand and pulled her own back, covering her lips in contemplation.

The Force had whispered to her that chaos was forming, but from which direction, or from whom, she still couldn't say. Like trying to hold water in her hands — the more she reached for a sense of clarity, the more it seemed to slip away. After a few moments of stretched-out silence, broken only by the calming sounds of the lake and its wildlife filtering through the open windows, Briana continued. "That doesn't mean it has to be your problem to solve — and can you tell me, truly, that you'd be content living a life dictated by the traditions of a society that's afraid to evolve?"

She watched him carefully, earnestly searching for any sign that her words might have stirred something in him, anything beyond that carefully constructed facade that he'd tried to put back in place — fruitless as that was. Or did he forget just how well she could see through him? And that, even now, there was still a large part of her heart that cared enough to want to.

"You deserve more than just being another Dejarik piece on someone else's board."

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