Wake Up

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Soliael perked up slightly when she said those names, his eyes darting her to her face. She was beginning to calm down, beginning to open up, beginning to show her true feeling. Soliael did not change anything about what he was doing, his thumb kept moving, sliding gently across her skin, his eyes kept focusing on her, and the calming presence within the room kept on flowing.

This was good.

Very Good.

“Oliver?” He asked, his voice was warm and soothing, the very utterance of calm. He wasn't trying to pry, simply push forward the narrative that Kira had already begun to tell.

 

[Kira Talith]

He would feel the shift of her confirming slow nod, fingers slipping against the fringe of her bangs for a brief moment as she did so. Her eyes would open to thin slits, focusing on his collarbone. But she wasn't seeing it as much as looking through it. Past it.

"Mmm... Oliver." she'd tell him.

She'd turn it over in her mind and go back. Going through it all as if a specter within the shadows of a haze.

"Just a kid." she'd give a shudder, closing her eyes. "He was only a kid."

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

His mind began to race, thinking of connections of what Oliver could have been used for.

Not tortured himself, not in front of Kira. She had said worse, she had said that Oliver had been through worse. For a second Soliael began to think the way his sister had, the way that Nemene the harpy had thought of things. Soliael shuddered for a moment, thinking of the things that his sister had told him about, the horrible things.

It hit him.

Oliver hadn't been tortured, he had done the torturing.

“He...” For a moment Soliael trailed off. “They made him do it?”

The feeling of calm would wash over very strongly now, Soliael was almost desperate to keep Kira calm and gentle, to keep her in that state of nirvana that she was currently in. The Sith Lord didn't want her to hurt, didn't want her to feel pain.

Though even that he couldn't control.

 

[Kira Talith]

She'd start to rock back and forth slowly, a tick to keep herself busy much in the way she'd do with her hands. But there was no denying the short nod that Kira gave him in an affirmative. They did.

Her imagination was a curse then, and there was no stopping the trembling of her body then. Even with the crash of his empathic sway, it just... hurt. Her heart would feel as if a hand had twisted it, crushing it in their hand. It was the helplessness. The inability she felt at being unable to follow through with her assurances, to help him. She'd failed.

She failed him.

Now Oliver, do just as mommy taught you.

"I told him it wasn't his fault." she'd swallow hard, fingers twitching in the conflicting emotions of his attempt to keep her calm and the anguish she felt in her soul.

“No.”

The Boy spoke. His voice raspy and broken, but not at all sad. It was filled with the same apathy as his gaze.

“It's yours.”

"That it was okay." it was just so vivid again. So real.


"He just looked right through me..." she swallowed hard. "...it was all in his eyes."

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Soliael waited a moment, then allowed his hand to fall away from her face. Instead he extended his arm, slipping it behind her neck slightly and giving her a small pull, not a jerk or a tear at her, but a small nudge to send her tumbling into his arms.

He couldn't really understand, not truly anyway. Kira felt deeply for Oliver, so deeply that perhaps it was his twisting instead of Nemene's cutting that had hurt her. Soliael would never really be so empathetic on a base level, he couldn't be, but he knew where see was coming from, why she felt this pain. Perhaps understanding that was enough, or perhaps the Sith Lord had failed once again, it was difficult to tell.

“And in the end?” He asked her, voice still soft.

He had absolutely no doubt about the outcome.

His sister had likely slit the boys throat and ended the whole ordeal in blood and death. That was Nemene's way, a single cut across the throat. There were many bodies, alive and dead, in the galaxy that bore that mark. Odd how she had always done it so.

 

[Kira Talith]

Kira would offer no resistance. Not now when she felt utterly wretched. Nememe had certainly tactfully thought out the best method to attempt to break the Jedi Master. It wasn't the torture that would be the method of inflicting agony -- but the tool used to inflict it.

She'd fall into his arms, a tiny blonde thing. Her face would press against his chest, eyes shut tightly as the tears she fought to hold at bay would fail her. The blanket would slip, sliding down to mid arms as her shoulders shook.

Her answer would be a low muffle, "At her order ...when he lost control. When he finally reacted to trying to reach him... " her voice would crack, ".. she had him slit his throat himself."

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Soliael now said nothing for the longest time. He remained perfectly still, save for a single hand that gently, but firmly ran through her hair, petting her slightly in the most calming motion one could imagine.

He was unsure of what to say to, unsure of what could comfort her, so he just remained quiet. He slowly ran his hand through her hair, and allowed her tears to fall. For him, the death of a child would likely have meant nothing, for Kira, it was everything. Perhaps he had given his sister too little credit. She was not just a butcher, not just a blunt hammer bashing against whatever was around it. No, she had been more than that, she had been a true instrument of suffering. Her heart had been malice, and her soul had been shredded far beyond their fathers.

Soliael frowned slightly, then looked down at Kira.

His hand stopped for a second, but only for a second before it started once again. She had many scars, some were messy, others were clean and precise. He had already guessed that those that were messy were Olivers, those that were precise had likely been made by his sister.

Five minutes passed, then he spoke again.

“They didn't stop there.” Not a question, a statement, said in that soft tone.

 

[Kira Talith]

[background=#232323]"I read them both like a holobook. I didn't give her what she wanted --" she'd say, it was getting easier now. To say it. It all was coming out in a torrent of words. Some comprehensible, others not. She recalled every word. Every action. Every moment -- because b[/background][background=#232323]efore that moment, she'd clung tenaciously to the side of a tiny lifepod of optimism in her sea of pain. [/background][background=#232323]Before that moment, mauve was just another color. Quite a pretty one actually. [/background][background=#232323]Before that moment, she had one particular goal. To keep Oliver safe. [/background][background=#232323]That moment he died marked a line of demarcation. [/background]

[background=#232323]Before Oliver and after.[/background]

[background=#232323]"I wouldn't scream. I wouldn't give her that. Not to them." with each cafune, he gave her the strength she needed. The calming presence she required to just be able to let it all out. "I saw her for what she was. And she knew it. A self-indulgent, spoiled bully. Not a sociopath at all, but an out-of-control, petulant child that couldn’t stand anyone else having better toys, more wealth, or greater power or, in my case, being more epic than her. [/background]

[background=#232323]If she couldn’t own it, do it, or be it, she would destroy it." her jaw would tighten, and she'd take a deep breath, smelling the scent of evergreen and distilled male power. His pheromones at this range were a heady cocktail of tranquility. [/background]

[background=#232323]"In this case.... me." [/background]

[background=#232323]She'd laugh, but it was a bitter laugh, her nose starting to fill as she'd sniff. Crying was never a pretty sight. [/background]

[background=#232323]"But I knew. And she knew I knew.. But I made it clear when I gave her the final nail when I said the one thing that set her off." she'd rub at her nose, give a sniff. "That I pity her." [/background]

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Soliael waited again staying silent. It was true. Nemene had been a spoiled child. They had only met a handful of times, but Soliael had known from first speaking with her that she was in fact just a child seeking attention. That was what Moridin had conditioned her to be, what their fathers attention had been shifted to. It was a terrible thing, a travesty in it of itself. Perhaps if she had been shaped by someone different, shifted onto a different path, Nemene could have been something different.

His sister had been a genius after all, she had just been twisted.

He considered his for a moment as his fingers still ran through her hair, gently pulling on her locks in a subtle calming motion. He wondered if she knew. If she realized or guessed at their relation already. At the same time he knew that likely a part of her had known the truth, ever since she had seen the eyes.

Or maybe that was just poetry.

“And what did she take in vengeance?” There was the slightest hint of fear in his voice, as if he didn't want to hear, as if knowing would pain him somehow, but he knew he had to learn.

So he waited.

 

[Kira Talith]

What did Nememe do?

Kira would press her forehead against his chest, leaning into it, mind wild with thoughts. Images would race through her mind. The glint of a scalpel. The strain of her wrists against the bonds that held her, the flesh raw and bleeding. The thick scent of metallic copper in the air of spilled blood. The agony.

She would be so quiet. Too quiet. Too still. It was unnatural for one so normally inclined to be in constant motion. Finally, she'd shift in his arms, pulling back a bit just enough to free her right hand, her face shrouded by the fringe of blonde bangs. One small hand would reach up to slip round his wrist upon the hand that was stroking her hair. What she did next would have likely given a completely different intent and meaning, but in context, perhaps it made perfect sense after all.

She'd take his hand, guiding it down, until it would slip under the warmth of the blanket. There, in between them, she'd guide him lower still, until her fingers would press his hand right against the soft curve of her belly. A slide and dip further would bring the precise, meticulous, surgical precision of a distinct scar that would curve over her skin. Where Nememe had taken that which would ensure Kira would be pitied in turn. Any ability for the woman who so cared for children to have any of her own.

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Soliaels eyebrows shot up for a few seconds in reaction to her movements, he did not expect it, nor really want it, but he allowed her the freedom to do as she pleased for the moment. When his hand stopped on a slight bump his eyebrows lowered back into their normal place.

Slowly, as the tips of his fingers began to trace the thin lines of raised flesh his brow knit into worry.

It dipped slightly, and for a moment he contemplated. This scar, where was it located? Briefly he recalled long distant anatomy lessons trying to place where the scar ran upon Kira when it finally struck him. His eyes opened wide for a second, and his hand stopped tracing in the very center of the scar, where the slight bump was the largest.

He understood.

His sister had been petty, so petty that when called out on the face of herself, she took what she could.

For Kira, it had been children. Her reaction to Oliver, a boy that was by all accounts a simply stranger, and her current reaction to the scar, Kira had a deep love for children. Nemene had taken that from her, had taken the ability to have children away from someone who truly loves them. The Sith Lord let his hand rest in place, his lips turning down into a frown.

What was there to say?

He could not comfort her, he could not heal her, he could do nothing to ease the pain. Soliael simply sat there in silence, his fingers curling gently into a fist upon her scarred abdomen. With a slight tug, he pulled her close.

 

[Kira Talith]

That hadn't been the only thing, but Kira didn't get a chance to relay that when his arm would draw her flush against him anew. No words would be said. What could one say?

It is what it is and there was no healing that which had been taken away.

While she had her own demons to battle, his reaction to it all was an even curiouser event. It bothered him. Everything did, at least to a degree she could ascertain from the tension in his arms, the subtle nuances of his movements, the locking of his jaw. It was all too much to process, especially with her revealing it all. It was wearying.

The Lorrdian would sag against him, bearing her slight weight upon the hard wall of his chest. She'd just borrow his strength for a moment. Just for a few moments. There was nothing at all that would suggest she was piling on womanly wiles, but instead reflected a woman who had clearly been through the Nine Hells and back and was bridging a way to heal from it.

Her forehead would drop in between his chest anew, blonde hair spilling over it.

That's all she needed. Just a few moments.

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Soliael didn't say anything, he just sat there, allowing her to be a burden.

That was something that not many people wished to be, a burden. They wanted to be strong, they wanted to be appear powerful and sure of themselves at all times. They did not want to be a burden. No one truly did. Yet, at times like this, it was the only thing that some could do. Kira could not stand under the weight of things that had happened to her forever, not if she was to be whole again.

So Soliael allowed her to be a burned, one that he would carry. She lay against him, and he simply sat in bed, his thumb slowly beginning to stroke her skin, though avoiding her scar. From his throat came a soft hum, a light tune, that was aimed to relax and still jittering nerves.

Hours later, Soliael opened his eyes.

Kira was still nestled against him, his arm wrapped around her and hand resting on her abdomen. Pinpricks ran through his shoulder, but he didn't seem to mind one bit. There was a slight smile on his face, and his free arm came up to run a hand over the stubble of his head.

The sun outside was slowly setting.

 

[Kira Talith]

Kira's slumbering face was tilted up to [member="Soliael Devin Talith"], her expression as peaceful as the approaching nightfall outside. Her body was cuddled up against him, as close as the sheets and blankets she was under would let her get. It was as if she'd molded herself to his hard edges until she was another blanket, lulled for what seemed for hours as he would pet her, hum to her. The calm between them as he'd hum to her was better than any rest she could have gotten with a full night's rest.

She was a small thing held against him, the weight of his arm round her as she lay on her side comfortably heavy. Strands of blonde hair would cling to her cheeks, against his chest, her own slowly rising and falling in her slumber. One knee would rest against his thigh, her arms and hands caught between them, the slight curl of her fists held under her chin.

The path to healing had begun last night. It would be a long road to tread, but the young Lorrdian had taken the first steps. Talking about it would do wonders, for she had internalized it for too long. What a strange curious thing that it had been at the urging of what the galaxy would label a Sith. Was he really a Sith?

Such a confusing label.

Either way, beyond the nearby balcony, the sky would be painted in hues of violet, indigo, citrine, and crimson. Rays of light would seep through stained glass, the slow travel of the soft orange glow baring testament to its approaching slumber. In its wake the light of a thousand stars would start to twinkle amidst the velvet sky.

Dream a little dream, Kira Beans. She'd linger in this for a few more minutes, but were he to stir further, it would wake her from her space Shangri-la.

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Soliael did not stir for the longest time. Kira was still sleeping, and she was in desperate need of that. So instead of moving the Sith Lord simply sat in place and began to contemplate all that he had learned just a short few hours ago. Everything that Kira had told him ran through his head, everything she had said Nemene had done, and everything that he knew his sister would have tried.

He frowned slightly, his lips turning down.

These were not pleasant thoughts.

Unconsciously, his thumb still stroked gently across Kira's abdomen, a soothing motion, though one that she did not really need while asleep.

The False God thought of everything that Kira had been through, then the interactions that had happened over the past two days. He realized that she was strong, stronger perhaps than most Jedi. She kept pushing herself, hid away her own dangers and attempted to help others instead. Looking down on her, Soliael smiled, and form the back of his throat came that same complacent hum.

 

[Kira Talith]

Kira eased into consciousness slowly. It was like surfacing from a perfectly performed swan dive, the faint lull of a distant melody in its wake. There was a lightness to her body, a sense of tranquility as she emerged from the buffered world of sleep.

Her hip bones would shift against his as she stirred. She felt warm, and incredibly comfy. Her cheek would start to rub against her pillow - one that would hold the distinct lub-dub of a steady drum.

She'd frown. Huh? That's when she'd noticed her pillow was breathing. The melody would grow louder, almost like a Nexu's purr. No wait. Humming. Someone was humming.

Her eyelids flipped open, the vestiges of sleep melting away. Senses would come to her. Like the sensation of a male thumb moving over her abdomen. It would drift across in a slow lazy elliptical soothing motion, much like one would pet a Ropo into relaxed bliss.

There was enough ambient light from the setting sun coming from the large glasteel window that she could make out the man beside her.

His expression would show intense concentration, as if his thoughts were elsewhere. Just as quickly, perhaps as if sensing her stirring, those orange eyes would now settle upon the Lorrdian. Blinking, her vision would slowly start to clear, catching sight of arching brows drawn down, thick lashes framing citrine orbs, and high, regal cheekbones. With the way he sat and her position, his shoulders were a mountain half blocking her view from the glasteel windows.

Tact wasn't her strongest forte, the former Grandmaster Dragonsflame learned this well when she called for a vote of no confidence. More so when she first would wake, and this was more evident with the first thing that came out of her mouth, voice still groggy, "You are too pretty for your own good."

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Soliael simply smiled. It wasn't an arrogant smile, although close to it.

“I believe, that is the pot calling the kettle black.” He said with a smile.

Pretty wasn't exactly a word used to describe him often, and there was good reason for that. The scars that lined his body marred perfect flesh, his stubbly head and face made him look unkempt, and more often than not he had a wild look in his eye that he had inherited from his father. Most things Soliael had in his appearance had been inherited from his father in fact, the only thing that had not been was the color of his hair.

Funny how that worked out really, he looked so much like his father that at times he had been mistaken for Moridin, back when he still had had long hair and was found within the Sith Empire. Now, it was difficult to tell the two were even related.

She on the other hand...

Soliael had no idea of her origin. He had no idea who were parents were of what genetic species she came from, something that he once again found interesting. Soliael himself was a genetic mix of four separate species, was she the same?

Inwardly he shrugged, it didn't matter.

She was still beautiful

 

[Kira Talith]

The sea of blankets would shift, Kira starting to roll from his side onto her back, her fingers curling over the edge of the coverlet to hold it against her neck. Awareness would kick in with his compliment, edging into her mind to remind her where she was. She wasn't used to hearing those kinds of things. To be exact, she'd normally just ignore it and do what she always did; make fun of herself and those around her. Two bright pink spots would grow over her cheeks, and she'd reply with a short snort and a crooked grin, "Well I don't know about you.. but I've seen my fair share of copper pots."

A finger would rise up to flick playfully against his shoulder. "And I wouldn't call you black.' she'd joke, sinking deeper into the blankets. Well, she didn't particularly enjoy being cold, and there was still a lingering chill in the bedroom.

"More like... a golden brown. Taupe? Tatooine dune sea beige??"

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Soliael felt her roll off of him, his eyes following her as she moved away from him. A rush of cold air hit the spot on his chest that she had been occupying, coupled with the pinpricks that ran through that area it was a slightly unpleasant situation. His arm flexed for a second, that test one did when one wasn't sure whether the arm was completely dead, or just sleeping.

“Beige?” Soliael said quietly. “I must remember to have your eyes checked before you go. Did the Jedi never notice you were color blind?”

He teased her in return.

Slowly as he spoke, Soliael sunk himself down into the bed. There were still patches of internal cold that clung to him, stung at him. The time in the snow and the slight coma afterward still effected his body, and though he mostly felt warm, the inside of him had a slight chill to it. One that would be fought off by the warmth found beneath the covers.

 

[Kira Talith]

Soon as he sank down, she'd roll onto her side, turning to face him. It was odd, kinda like a pair of younglings trying to scamper down into the depths of the bed for every bit of warmth they could get. All they needed to do was to toss the covers over their heads and commence the required whisper of secrets and procure a flashlight.

Silly thoughts, Kira beans.

She'd give him a mocked expression of hurt. "Color blind?! Nope. No way, no how chick-e-dee!" she'd say, defending herself. A puff of hot air would blow her bangs away from her eyes again. They've grown so long since she'd been kidnapped that they were in that odd too long to be bangs and too short to tie back.

She gave a roll of a shoulder, the curve peeking from the blanket before she tucked it right back. Brr cold.

"Fine.. pink? Pale pink? ... sandy coral beige?" A finger would reach out to poke at his shoulder, as if double checking. "Must be the Zeltron in you." she'd tease.