Happy Accidents (Rugzy)

[Poludnica]

Having children is like living in a frat house-nobody sleeps, everything's broken, and there's a lot of throwing up. - Ray Romano

The Sith Temple on Dromund Kaas was a thing to behold. Massive architecture paid tribute to the ancient style. At first, Danica thought it was ugly, bloated, and square. Then she understood the purpose and meaning behind the building. Sith temple wasn’t there to be pretty but to overwhelm. To push on a potential observer, to stir fear and awe. In that case, the choice of aesthetics made sense. Danica got used to it after a while. It still hurt her eyes, though. On the other hand, the climate was something the human woman had trouble dealing with: humid, hot, aggravating. The entire planet stank of rotten leaves and fungus. But it was her home now; it had been for the past seven years. In Kaas City she had her third child.

Today Danica didn’t focus on the planet's mildew stench or the temple’s heaviness. She had other worries, and two of them trotted next to her. Nadiria was talking. The girl was always talking. When not talking, she was running around, climbing trees, and jumping on furniture. After a couple of years, Danica learned to block the constant noise of the dark-haired child. Nadiria didn’t mind. The eight-year-old girl took charisma after her mother and tenacious determination from Nieraan. Nadiria was headstrong, impulsive, and loud. Danica could barely control that ferocious ball of energy. Nieraan had more luck in that regard. Nadiria adored her father more than anything in the world. Even physically, they were alike, starting from black-blue hair, ending on tips of prominent fangs.

Behind his sister walked Yhre. The boy, only six years old, didn’t share Nadiria’s energy. On the contrary, he was quiet and withdrawn. The only thing that betrayed his Firrerrese was blue hair. Not black with streaks of blue. Just deep, dark blue. Yhre’s features had already certain sharpness to them, despite still present baby fat. No matter how much Danica tried to rationalize it, she couldn’t escape the obvious comparison. Her son looked like a miniature version of Cassius. And behaved like one too. Unlike Nadiria, Yhre showed little empathy. In the Republic space, his cruel behaviors would have been problematic. Among the Sith, it seemed to be a desired trait. Danica didn’t want to admit how much resentment she sometimes felt toward her own child.

The third one should have been walking with them. The stolen one. The one they grieved over. The one they didn’t speak about. Nadiria didn’t even know she had a twin. Danica buried this fact under a thick layer of denial. Cassius sent her messages, writing that he wanted to show how happy Marcus was, how he loved his kind, warm grandfather. Danica always deleted them. She never shared them with Nieraan, that could break him. Propel into a mindless rage that could get him killed this time around.

They reached the training rooms.No one bothered them along the way. By this time most knew who Danica was. The more polite Sith, mostly those Nieraan had trained, greeted her with small nods. She returned the gestures absentmindedly. The woman’s thoughts were already mulling over words Darth Aurelius needed to hear. Danica didn’t want their children to become Sith. That was no happy, fulfilling life.

Students loitered around them. Danica wasn’t sure where exactly Nieraan was. She could follow screams of pain, that always worked. MAMA! ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME? Nadiria bellowed, finally noticing her mother’s distraction. No one ever listens to you. Yhre offered flatly. Nadiria turned to face the boy. Shut up weirdo. She snapped and pushed her brother. A scuffle ensued to which Danica helplessly flailed her hands, yelling:
Stop it! Stop it right now! You are an embarrassment! You little beasts!

[Rugs]

“Again.”

Aurelius stood, arms folded across his chest as the pair of acolytes removed themselves from the tangled heap they’d fallen into and stalked off to opposite sides of the sparring mat in training room’s center. That one, a slender human, shot a hateful glare at his Echani foe wasn’t lost on him, but he said nothing as he motioned for their spar to begin anew.

Training acolytes could feel like herding cats at the best of times, and these two turned a fervid ire against each other. It was to be expected--the Order actively stoked the flames of passion and coached that anger and hatred were among the most powerful fuels for acolytes to call upon--but every now and then, a duo formed a bond of mutual distaste that went beyond the typical rush of combat. Such rivalries could be detrimental to both, or drive them to heights that they couldn’t reach alone.

It wasn’t by accident that he’d paired these two together for the day’s training session.

Aurelius still wondered, privately, at the strange course that’d taken him from a no one within the Order to commanding its considerable training apparatuses and internal policing arm. In a short decade — no time at all, for a Firrerreo — he’d risen from a scared boy barely free of his mother’s grasp to one of the most powerful men in the Galaxy.

There was a time, not so long ago, where he might have considered turning away from it all. He’d resisted Renata’s call to rise, for far longer than he suspected she’d give just about any of his peers. Until Cassius came. Until he stole away one of Nieraan Onin’s children.

Thus was Darth Aurelius born.

He sighed through his nose, watching in steady, measuring silence as the Echani put his boot in the human boy’s stomach. That should have been the match, but the sandy-haired youth turned loose a blast of lightning that sent the Echani careering back into the wall with a scream.

“My Lord, pardon me for interrupting.” Torrence, a young Sephi Knight of Ascension Aurelius had taken as a sort of unofficial apprentice some years ago, bowed deeply behind him. He was short and slender, with silky, shoulder-length black hair and subtle floral tattoos sprawling up the side of his neck and onto his feminine face. He wore a feather in his hair, and had for as long as Aurelius had known him. “Ms. Liviana is coming to see you, with the two little ones.”

Aurelius tilted his head slightly, focus drifting from the brawling acolytes as he searched the Force. Yes, there she was, with Nadiria and Yhre; he could recognize their presences from worlds away, should he need to seek them out

He glanced back at the Acolytes, then motioned to Torrance. The Knight was capable; it was only raw experience, rather than talent, that yet prevented him from joining the convocation of lords.

“Finish their lesson,” he instructed simply as he turned to leave, pulling black coat with gold embroidery at the cuffs to his hand from a hook near the door. Torrance nodded and assumed Aurelius observatory spot as the Dark Lord stepped into the hallway.

It didn’t take long to find Danica and the children. Even without the Force, Aurelius needed only follow the yelling until he found Nadiria straddling her brother, fingers clawed as she tried to get at his face. Yhre held her off, for now, with straining effort, but her short fingers inched ever nearer...

“Causing a ruckus in the hallway, are we?” Aurelius asked as the Force closed around each child and pulled them apart. Danica looked mortified. He smiled at her — showing rare, true warmth in his expression — as he set them down.

“If you’re going to fight,” he went on, eyeing his daughter and son in turn, “in front of your mother’s not the place to do it.” He could only imagine which one of them started the scrap.

Nadiria, surely.

[Poludnica]

The children flew up in the air on a gentle current of the Force. Danica yelped, surprised more than scared. She had witnessed plenty of playtimes between Nieraan and the children. All filled with force acrobatics that coaxed joyous shouts. The woman spun to face her partner, her love and offered him a feigned frown of disapproval, which quickly morphed into a warm smile. “Took your sweet time. The students abuse never grows old?” Danica sighed in relief. She tried to sound casual, relaxed.Put me down!” Yhre screeched angrily and bared his little fangs, hating this sudden loss of control. ” Papa!” Nadiria yelled before rushing toward her father. The near-human girl clung to his ornate robes. ” She started it!” Yhre hissed, akin to an angry cat. ” He called me a smelly rancor butt!” Nadiria hissed back, safely hidden behind her father’s leg. Danica massaged her temple at this display of savage behavior. The human woman didn’t even want to bother asking Nieraan if that was normal in his species. If Firrerreo were little barbarians during their long childhood.

” I swear, maybe Torrence wants to buy one of them.” Danica whispered under her breath. She looked weary, despite immaculate make-up, meticulous coiffure, and form-fitting, elegant dress. Hiding things from Nieraan wasn’t easy. Sooner or later, he would sense something was wrong. Danica couldn’t avoid him forever, didn’t really want to. They didn’t have much time for one another even without her avoiding spending time at home in the evenings. Between Nieraan’s work for the Order and Danica’s company, they often didn’t talk for days. On the one hand, it was something that kept their passion alive after all those years. Nieraan changed - he began to carry himself like a lord. A far cry from a lowborn Jedi bastard the Firrerro used to be. Beneath the facade of a brooding, Darth was the same unruly pedestrian Nar Shaddaa boy she grew to love.

” Silence, you two!” Danica finally ordered with a menace that immediately muzzled the kids. Nadirria pouted and looked at her father with a teary, puppy-eyed look. ” Daaaad” She whined pathetically. ” Cry baby.” Yhre commented quietly, not ready to start anything. As much as Nadirria clung to Nieraan, Yhre seemed to be afraid of him. There was some kind of cold reservation in the boy toward his Firrerreo father. ” I haven’t seen you in a while. Figured we will drop by with a visit.” Danica offered, ignoring the children. Sometimes it was the only reasonable thing to do. Again, the woman tried to force quiet peace on herself. She mastered the difficult art of compartmentalizing secrets a long time ago, but it made her exhausted. It was time to stop it and come clean before their relationship suffers.

And so she came to confront Nieraan without hiding anything. He could plainly see the inner turmoil that wrecked her mind and corners of her soul filled with dark, murky sadness. Danica slowly walked toward the Firrerreo Sith to hug him tightly. To breathe in his intoxicating, masculine scent. ” We need to talk.” She whispered, not knowing where to start? With her avoidance? With insomnia that plagued her over the past weeks? ” But not here.” There were times Danica pondered how their lives would have looked like if they have never met. If Cassius hadn’t sent her to a boring party at the edges of Mid Rim. ”Ewww! Stop snuggling!” Nadirria commented, while Yhre hanged back, away from Nieraan.

[Rugs]

Aurelius grind boyishly as the children drifted through the air in front of him. “I haven’t laid a finger on those acolytes today,” he said, with an undercurrent of feined hurt that Danica would think he’d be so ruthless with his students. She had good cause, of course. Aurelius’ methods could be tough, if less abrasive than those his mother employed on him all those years ago. These days, he took a more hands-off approach, letting the students spar against each other and offering instruction or leaving direct teaching to the horde of instructors below him. Only those he deemed worthy earned direct, intense instruction.

His grin faded as he set his children down, though warmth remained in his golden eyes as he looked at Danica. It was good to see her again; they spent too much time apart, both driven by their own callings. Years ago, when he’d pursued her at that strange gala, he’d never imagined they’d find themselves where they stood now. Then again he’d thought the encounter a fling, a one-night-stand between a rich girl and a street urchin-turned-Sith before their paths parted.

Destiny, or the Force or whatever the hell you call it apparently had different plans.

Nadiria and Yhre continued their little spat, fighting for his attention until Danica commanded them to silence. Or tried to, anyway--putting a stop to a fight between the two could at times be like trying to quell a firestorm barehanded. Aurelius wondered, with some amusement, how long it would take for the next flare-up.

“Be quiet,” he said, gentle but firm as they kept trading barbs after Danica told them to stop. It seemed to work. For the moment. Though the daggers Nadiria glared at Yhre, met by the boy’s cold gaze, weren’t encouraging.

Silence was silence, though, and Aurelius took the momentary ceasefire to nod at Danica. He smiled again, subtly. “You know I always appreciate your visits.” Even when work called, he’d set it aside for Danica. None save the Empress could tear his attention away from her, and even that was with some effort.

Yet the longer he looked at Danica — the longer he drank in her presence — the more Aurelius began to feel that something was off. Turbulence, stirring just below the surface. She approached and he opened his arms to hold her tight against him. Before he could ask what was wrong, she spoke. His mind set to whirring.

What is it? Cassius? He tensed involuntarily. Cassius hadn’t bothered them for some time. Surely the man would be busier tending to cleaning up the mess on Nar Shaddaa than poking a Dark Lord’s nose.

“Come with me to my suite,” he said quietly. Aurelius’ offices were a short walk away, in the heart of the Cult of Ascension’s headquarters. A sanctuary where none dared enter without his permission.

He shot Nadiria a withering glare at her snide comment and let Danica go. He turned, motioning for her and the children to follow him.