Post by Rabbit on Dec 13, 2018 22:17:33 GMT -5
"When I'm travelling far from home
On the white horizon,
I can feel you're still around,
And the dream overtakes me."
Persistence of Memory, Afro Celt Sound System
"I still can't, for the life of me, understand what you see in him, Theenas!"
First Lieutenant Inrok'eele'nuruodo stopped just shy of the open classroom door. He had two hours in-between classes, so he'd decided to drop by the military history classroom on the third floor of the east wing. Doing so at this time was becoming something of a habit of his and so far, the young professor who taught in said classroom hadn't seemed to object. This was the first time, though, that Keelen had approached the room at this hour of the day and heard that someone else had beaten him to it.
He slowed his brisk pace until he was practically tip-toeing up to the left side of the doorway. He reached up and put a hand on the gilded door frame and studied the tops of his pristinely shined boots as he unashamedly eavesdropped.
"Have you looked at him, Vara?"
That voice he knew. It belonged to the woman he had come to see - to confront, really. He had seen her the night before, sitting at an outdoor table on the veranda of a local restuarant that was popular with both students and staff of the Chiss Academy. She had been sitting with the one man on all of Csilla he'd rather she not know, much less have dinner with.
Or, kiss. His right hand clenched at his side at the memory. She'd kissed him - Lieutenant Hess'ere'nuruodo. Keelen - who was used to not feeling much in the way of emotions - had felt something stir in him that he couldn't name. Something...that he supposed could be called anger. Or, maybe disappointment. Or, at the very least, unpleasant surprise.
There was a small "pft" at Theenas' question.
"I'll grant you that much. Lieutenant Inrok'eele'nuruodo is...quite a handsome man, yes. However, he has the personality of a block of ice. What do the two of you possibly hold in common?"
"Military history, for one," Theenas replied, a little tartly by the sound of it; Keelen could hear the sound of papers shuffling. "He has the highest marks of anyone currently enrolled in the Academy. He's far from stupid and he's actually quite the conversationalist."
There was a small huff of disbelief.
"I don't think I've ever heard him articulate a complex sentence. The man has a talent for one-word answers...to anything."
"Now you're just being unfair, Vara," the tone of Theenas' voice suggested that she was rolling her eyes. "Get him alone and comfortable and he has plenty to say."
"If you say so," Vara sounded less than convinced. "In any event...go on another date with Seren, please? I don't know why you don't want to...from what he told me, the two of you had a lovely time last night."
"Lieutenant Hess'ere'nuruodo has a tendency to take what he wants without asking," Theenas words were practically chilly.
"Yes," Vara continued to express exasperation. "It's called ambition, Theenas. My brother is a decisive man."
"Well, his ability to read body cues are abysmal," the papers, apparently stacked, now rapped sharply once, twice, on top of Theenas desk.
"What?" there was a brief pause of confusion, before Vara blurted - "Wait, did he kiss you?"
"Yes."
Keelen raised a dark eyebrow in something approximating interest. Theenas hardly sounded like a woman who had enjoyed that particular attention.
"It isn't proper to kiss someone on the first date," she continued curtly; Keelen imagined Vara now rolling his eyes.
"Keep your sights set on Lieutenant Inrok'eele'nuruodo and you'll be an old woman before he even thinks to kiss you, I imagine."
"Now you're just being unfair, Vara."
"Has he asked you out again?" the question was aggressive and there was a slight pause before Theenas answered hesitantly.
"No..."
"And Seren has?"
There was no answer to that and Vara laughed, short and sharp.
"Just give my brother another chance, will you? I hate seeing you pine after someone who is clearly not interested in you the way you're interested in him."
"What makes you think Keelen's not interested in me?" there was hurt in Theenas' voice.
"'Keelen', is it?" Zara clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "I can't imagine he's given you permission to call him by his core name, Theenas."
"Just answer the question."
"He's been 'talking' to you for three months now. He's only just taken you to dinner and that was two weeks ago! I'm telling you, if you think a relationship with him is going to go anywhere past friendship, you'll be waiting for the Csaplar Glacier to melt!"
Keelen decided he'd heard enough. He lifted his left hand from the door frame and stealthily moved back down the hallway, toward the stairs. He hardly noticed where he was going, though, he was so lost in thought.
Junior Professor Ath'eena'sabosen was interested in him. By the sounds of it, she had not welcomed the move made on her the night before, nor did it sound like she had particularly enjoyed her dinner with Lieutenant Seren. And yet...Seren had quite a few things on Keelen, even he had to admit that much to himself.
The two of them - Seren and Keelen - were well-known rivals. They were a match for one another physically, to be sure. Academically, Keelen had the upper hand. Seren, however, had a better grasp on tactics and strategy - Keelen had yet to beat Seren in any of the simulations that they had been pitted against each other in. Of the two, Seren was the more popular by far, with both their peers, their professors, and their chain of command. He was outgoing, clever, and bold. His Merit Adoptive sister, Junior Professor Sev'ara'sabosen, was right - Seren took what he wanted, without hesitation or question.
Keelen imagined he was the same. Except...he couldn't really think of a time when he'd been so decisive as Seren. Certainly, he'd never been as ambitious. He excelled academically and physically, because he was his father's only child, the heir of House Inrok. Duty demanded that he do his best...but he didn't necessarily want success for his own sake. In some ways, he excelled simply because he knew no other way to be. Had he ever done something just for the sheer desire of it?
The young Phalanx lieutenat stopped on the second-floor landing and stepped instinctively to the side to let other students pass on their own ways up and down. He pressed his back against the wall and pulled the small box that had been making a rather non-regulation bulge in his right pant pocket. He opened it and gazed thoughtfully at the bright, red, semi-precious gem that sat nestled in the center of a coiled length of delicate gold chain.
His mother had given this to him when he had come of age and joined the Phalanx - when he had finally left his father's house.
"What's this for?" he had asked.
"Who is it for," Kora had corrected gently.
He remembered just staring at her blankly, not understanding.
"You'll know, when it happens," was all his mother had said, with a half-sad, half-hopeful smile on her face as she had closed her son's hand around the necklace.
It had been her official courting gift, the one his father had given to her when he had decided to pursue her hand in marriage. As he stood there staring down at it, he felt as confused as he had the day Kora had passed it on to him.
Why did he feel like this now belonged to Theenas? Again, Vara had been right - they'd been talking to each other almost daily for three months, but he had only just recently felt compelled to ask her out to dinner. He felt...well, he'd say he felt nothing for her, just as he felt total apathy toward most things in his life, for his whole life. But...the necklace in his hand suggested otherwise, that there was something buried deep inside of him that was responding to the vivacious and beautiful Junior Professor of Military History.
Buried...
And that's when Keelen figured out what was missing his in strategy - what Seren had that he didn't.
A lack of inhibition. Freedom of emotion and feeling. Keelen unconsciously pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and chewed on it for a moment or two in deep thought. His heart began to pound at the audacity of the plan that was slowly forming in his mind.
Maybe, just maybe, if he skipped a calculated dose or two of his 'medicine', he'd be able to start consciously feeling what it was that was unconsciously driving him forward toward Theenas. Keelen had never dared to even imagine such a bold move. He had been taken medical suppressants for what his father had once - and only once - explained to him was a terrible affliction that he possessed, and that he must never speak of to anyone. Keelen wasn't even sure what this affliction was, per se - neither of his parents had ever told him the details of what had caused them to put him on the daily regimen of suppressants. But, he had heard his parents talk from time to time and he knew that his 'medications' suppressed his ability to express a normal range of emotions. Maybe, then, if he eased up a little on them, he could become bold, like Seren.
One thing was certain...he never wanted to see, or even think of, Seren kissing Theenas again. As he put the lid back on the plain little jewelry box and stuffed it back into his pocket, Keelen knew - at least intellectually - that the only man in all of the Ascendancy who had any business courting Ath'eena'sabosen, was him.
= = =
Darth Invictus didn't waste time on sentimentality. Nor did he indulge in daydreams of the past. But, sometimes...sometimes he couldn't help it. The memories came whether he wanted them to or not. He had noticed that certain memories seemed to surface at specific times of the galactic year - as if he had an internal clock that recorded the anniversaries of his grief.
He sat in his office on board the Revenant and fought a silent battle with himself. There was a compartment in his desk that only he knew about - a compartment in which he kept the three things most precious to him. He tried never to take them out, to hold them, or even look at them. He tried his best to never even think of them.
But, they were there, nonetheless. Constant and eternal, like his grief.
And, there were times, like now, when he could ignore neither his longing for the past, nor for the tangible memories that he had carried with him all these years - through exile, through slavery, through the Sith Academy, through his Ascension. Sometimes, he admitted that the past was too much to run from; in those moments, he gave in, and allowed his emotions to overcome him.
He stared down at the necklace that was coiled in the palm of his hand. The red gem sparkled in stunning contrast to his blue skin. There were three colors that never failed to stand out against a Chiss' natural hue: white, black, and red. He closed his eyes in pain, as he remembered the night his wife had worn all three, when she had been absolutely breathtaking and he had dared to take what he wanted, for the first time ever in his life.
Looking back now, he knew that had been his first step along the path to where he was now - Praetor Magnus, the Bronze Pillar of the Empire, Sith, Imperial, Darth. It had all started with Theenas, his blue-haired beauty, the purer half of his soul, now lost to time and distance.
Keelen closed his fist over the necklace and its flame-hued gem, and allowed the weight of his ever-present grief to bow his proud head in sorrow.
= = =
"Lieutenant, what are you doing here?" Theenas gasped and whirled around as Keelen's hand closed around her wrist.
"Don't go," was all he was able to get out; his pulse was pounding so hard in his throat that he thought he might pass out from the strength of it.
"Ke-" Theenas cut herself off, bit her lip, then tried again. "Lieutenant, please. I have a date."
"I can see that," his eyes flickered down and over her dress.
It was...a bold choice of clothing, to be sure. Especially for Theenas, who had always struck him as being rather conservative. But, perhaps he had misjudged her all along - perhaps he was misjudging her now. The skirt was short, showing off her long, smooth legs; her halter top left her shoulders bare; the whole ensemble was brightly patterned in red and yellow. He almost let go of her hand, almost took a step back, almost let the comfortable numbness he knew so well take over.
But, the weight of the box in his pocket kept him from backing out. He had been experimenting with his medicines for almost two months. He now knew how to keep the suppression tempered just enough to keep him from falling to whatever affliction possessed him, without completely erasing his capacity to feel. Somewhere along the way, he had discovered courage - at least when it came to now, when it came to Ath'eena'sabosen.
She tried to tug her arm away from him, but Keelen held firm. Not tight...not in such a way that Theenas would think that she couldn't get away from him if she really wanted to, but with a firmness that communicated his resolve.
"You're not in love with him."
"What?" Theenas' eyes went wide; she tugged her hand with conviction and Keelen's heart sank as he let go of her.
He had noticed something, though, when he had touched her. With the loosening of his suppression, Keelen had begun to notice more about the world around him, more of the subtle cues that were so important in inter-personal relationships.
"Just answer me one question, before you go," his deep voice was quiet.
Theenas looked like she wanted to bolt, but she hesitated at his request and looked up at him in a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty.
"Does he make you blush when he touches you?"
The color in her cheeks deepened and Keelen was fairly certain he had never seen her look more beautiful. His eyes were hooded as he stepped firmly into her personal space; Theenas stood her ground and that told him more than her words ever could.
"Come with me," he held out his right hand to her, palm up.
He would remember, later, that she didn't even hesitate before sliding her own fingers against his. In that moment, Keelen knew that he had won Theenas for good.
"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice soft and her eyes even softer.
He took a deep breath.
Steady, now...
"I'd like to make you dinner."
"Dinner?" she blinked up at him, clearly taken off-guard.
"Would you allow me to do that for you, Theenas?" he tried not to sound too hopeful, too young, too eager.
A smile slowly brightened her face and deepened the flush that graced her cheeks.
"Yes...yes, I think I would like that...Keelen."
= = =
The night always overtook his guard, especially on these unwelcome anniversaries. Keelen rarely slept fitfully, rarely dreamed - but on days like this one, when the memories fought valiantly to consume his thoughts, the Chiss found himself reliving the past every time his eyes closed.
Warm, supple skin...lips parting willingly for him...hands drifting over his body, grasping, seeking to anchor her against him as their bodies moved... These were the fragments of his dreams, the revenants of his past that tangled his mind as surely as his tossing to-and-fro tangled him in his sheets.
He had loved her. He still loved her. A part of Keelen knew that he would always love her. He would never be free of her ghost, of the persistence of her memory. She was so far away, gone to him forever. And yet...on certain nights, she was close to him in spirit as she had ever been in body.
He dreamed of that night...the night she wore white. Theenas loved her short skirts and daring necklines - he had loved that look on her. That white dress she had worn...the sleeves covered her arms in sheer, silk-like fabric, and left her shoulders bare. The neckline opened all the way down to just above her navel, leaving a good portion of breast and flesh open to his appreciative gaze. The skirt, even as short as it was, had had a slit up to just shy of the top of her thigh. It had been elegant and sensual in equal parts.
He remembered her hair, curled, pulled loosely back. Her neck bare, her lips and nails painted red. She'd worn a black rose clipped in her hair, a black choker around her throat.
He remembered her kiss. And in his dreams, he tasted, touched, adored her for the first time, again.
= = =
"...You're a terrible cook, Keelen," Theenas laughed over the glass of white wine she held in her hand.
They were sitting on the couch in her apartment, on the western-most level of Csaplar. It was in walking distance of the Academy and the two had enjoyed the stroll together from the place where they had shared dinner.
"I suppose I have to fail at something," his grin was always a lop-sided affair; she had told him she loved it, loved the way it gave him a roguish sort of twinkle to his eyes. "To balance everything else out."
"I suppose so," she giggled and leaned her shoulder against his. "But, I'm telling you, I thought you were trying to poison me that first time."
The smile slipped from Keelen's face and he was quiet for a moment as he gazed thoughtfully down at Theenas. She looked up at him and her own smile shifted to match his sudden sobriety.
"Why did you ever give me a chance?"
It was question of curiosity, not self-consciousness. There had been many times that Keelen had wondered what had ultimately convinced Theenas to stand Seren up, and then to keep seeing him even when Seren tried pursuing for several weeks after. Three more months later, and she was still spending what free time either of them had, with him.
"Because you asked," Theenas answered gently.
She reached up and cupped his cheek with her hand; she rested the bottom of her glass against her thigh with the other.
Keelen's heart began to pound. There was...something to this moment. Something...powerful and potent. Something he hadn't ever felt before - then again, there was a whole range of emotions he'd been feeling in the last few months that he'd never experienced before in his life. It was if a blindfold had been taken off, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He could finally see the world as it was, could taste it, hear it, feel it in ways he'd never imagined.
And it had all lead down to this moment. The moment, he realized, suddenly.
"There's something I want you to have...if you'd accept it?"
Theenas' eyes crinkled in a sudden smile.
"Of course," she titled her head to the side and watched him with considerable curiosity as he started to squirm around in his seat.
Uniform pants were...well tailored, to say the least. It took a minute for Keelen to finally wrestle the box out of his pocket. He didn't dare look at her as he opened it and slowly pulled out the necklace to show her.
"This was my mother's..." his voice trailed off uncertainly and it was only sheer determination that made him capable of lifting his eyes and meeting hers.
"Keelen..." Theenas seemed rather overwhelmed with emotion herself; her eyes were suddenly, strangely, bright and she lifted a perfectly manicured hand to her lips.
"Would you?" Keelen suddenly felt his tongue was too big for his mouth; he stumbled for a moment, until he was finally able to push out: "May I court you, Ath'eena'sabosen?"
There was no hesitation in her answer.
"Yes."
Nothing more was said as Keelen leaned forward and gently draped the necklace around her neck. His nose brushed against the underside of her jaw as he fumbled briefly with the clasp. She smelled like a garden of snow peonies and it was more intoxicating to Keelen than the ice wine they'd been sharing. He moved back, but only just enough so that he could admire the way the necklace lay against the hollow of her chest.
He nearly stopped breathing as he slowly reached up and brushed his knuckles against her skin, from the bottom of her throat, to the red gem now nestled between her partially-bared breasts. Her own breath hitched and he was dimly aware of her right hand sliding across his knee to rest lightly on his left thigh.
Time seemed to stand still. Keelen finally lifted his eyes to meet hers, but his gaze got caught on her lightly parted lips. Something drew him toward them, inspired him to tilt his head to the side, to lift his hand to lay two fingers against the bottom of her chin and draw him closer to him.
Their first kiss turned into another...then another...and then so many that Keelen lost count. And somewhere along the way, his uniform jacket had fallen to the floor, along with his undershirt. They both paused briefly when his hands slid up the outside of her thighs and hiked her skirt up to a point that was bordering on indecent. Keelen had grinned at her, then, and kept going as Theenas reached up and pulled the pinned rose out of her hair so that it tumbled down around her shoulders. At one point, their bodies were so close to each other, that he could feel his mother's jewel pressing against the center of his chest.
At that point, he stopped thinking of it as 'his mother's', and started thinking of it in terms that eventually transformed to 'his wife's'.
= = =
He imagined it now - cool, and hard, and smooth. The memory of it was so visceral that Keelen found his eyes snapping open in surprise, his hand clenched in a fist against where it would have normally laid between his body and Theenas'. For a few long, breath-stealing moments, he thought she was there with him.
He could feel her breath, her body, the weight of her in the mattress beside him. But, then he realized that he was alone. He'd had this dream for years and he had always awoken alone.
Keelen groaned - the sound of his heart breaking yet again. Over, and over, again. For the thousandth time, he wondered if he'd ever be free of her, if he would ever be free of her memory.
And for the thousandth time, he hoped that he would never know that freedom.