Post by Squee on Dec 16, 2008 20:20:13 GMT -5
((Yeah, I created one hell of a post for another site that brought me to tears. For all those softhearted people or who are mothers or possibly fathers, be warned.))
Venta had silently taken onto holding Rayn as Ichigo addressed the Jedi Council. Her face was still thickly enclosed by the shadow of her hood, and she had even taken the precaution to wear light gloves, nothing of her skin showing. The gloves were quick throw aways, however, wrapped loosely and easy to tear off if anything simmered beyond mild curiosity about the mystery woman accompanying Ichigo.
Such a good little girl… Venta couldn’t help but think as she studied Rayn’s still very small face. She had gotten bigger, yes, but was still considerably smaller than her sister. The thoughts of praise were a constant surprise to Darth Semtri, unused o it after so many years of being banned or unable to use soft words. Rayn was being a polite one year old, quietly sleeping away as Venta gently rocked her back and forth like some kind of nurse. Or dozing, should be the proper word. Every so often she dozed, then opened her eyes and looked at her surroundings, eyes so blue Venta could almost see them ripple like water.
She sensed Ichigo turn to her, eyes of the council shift onto her and the child. He was going to take her back. Something sharp knifed through Venta, and she barely resisted to reaction to flinch at the internal stab. Rayn’s final moments in her arms were right here, right now… Next time it could be fighting with lightning, pushing it toward one another in order to survive themselves.
Her presence gave a weak fumble, sending a ripple in the Force that announced something unusual about the woman. There was one impulse that Venta unconsciously responded to: grip. Her arms gently tightened around Rayn: protective, longing, unwillingness to release something that Venta couldn’t deceive herself into not caring about. Maybe her master had been wrong. Maybe Sith could care about things. Precious things. And not things as in an object: things as in people and living beings. And it hurt to let them go. This wasn’t an “I miss you” feeling that she had in the past when Ichigo was gone for months on end. It was a hot vibroblade that wedged itself slowly through her center, agonizing.
There was another struggle to hold the illusion as she combated with such strong feelings. Venta wanted nothing more than to cry. And not a moment the thought crossed her mind did her face grow hot and her vision smeared colors and sharp images together. She was shocked when the first tear escaped and stung her cheek. She needed Rayn from her arms. The child was destroying her iron mask, and destroying her carefully crafted illusion to remain deceiving such of the Jedi Council. It took work, as her daughter was destroying a foundation built within the Sith. As she prepared to hand Rayn over to Ichigo in the few seconds this all happen, she heard a cold voice:
“You may release the child before you break her, Sith.”
Venta dashed the child back to her hip, anger welling up within her. But not anger at herself for being unable to hide herself in the Force, but being accused that she’d hurt Rayn. Rayn. One of the very few people she wanted to keep safe, and, at this moment, hold fast to her. Of all things to accuse Venta of, this couldn’t have been the greatest insult of all. Rayn was her handicapped child. Darth Semtri flipped back her hood, amber eyes a swirling whirlpool of her impulsive anger. She watched as every hand made a comforting move to their lightsaber, one or two standing, expecting strife. She glared at the Kel Dor who had made such a comment to her.
“How DARE you,” she hissed through clenched teeth at the council member. “How DARE you go as far as saying I’ll hurt the child I risked discovery on. How dare you assume that I would raise a finger to her. How dare you think I wish to hurt her before I hand her over to be taught the pathetic ways of the Jedi. I stand before you with an unwilling readiness to give you a strong Force sensitive child who is of Ichigo’s bloodline because it is best for HER.
“Selfish as I am being, she is going to be placed in your hands. I am being selfish because I am her mother. I have a right to be. This has nothing to do with being Sith!” Her voice was cracking now, and Venta was catching on a couple of words. Another unwanted and shameful tear approached over the rise and fall from her eye and glided down her face. “It has to do with being a mother. And unfortunately, you could look upon this as a mother having to give her daughter to her enemy. I wouldn’t expect any of you to understand that, because you are NEITHER mothers OR fathers of ANYTHING. You don’t have any sympathy, and that’s to be expected: I am the very thing you are all sworn to destroy and you do not have this experience.
“So, why don’t you just SHUT UP.”
A hushed and uneasy silence rested on the air as Venta held Rayn to her, gently but firmly. There was a definite tension as the Jedi glanced to one another, unable to make an understanding of Venta’s clear passion and what to do with this dark taint with Ichigo standing beside her, doing his best to radiate that calmness he always had about him.
Venta had silently taken onto holding Rayn as Ichigo addressed the Jedi Council. Her face was still thickly enclosed by the shadow of her hood, and she had even taken the precaution to wear light gloves, nothing of her skin showing. The gloves were quick throw aways, however, wrapped loosely and easy to tear off if anything simmered beyond mild curiosity about the mystery woman accompanying Ichigo.
Such a good little girl… Venta couldn’t help but think as she studied Rayn’s still very small face. She had gotten bigger, yes, but was still considerably smaller than her sister. The thoughts of praise were a constant surprise to Darth Semtri, unused o it after so many years of being banned or unable to use soft words. Rayn was being a polite one year old, quietly sleeping away as Venta gently rocked her back and forth like some kind of nurse. Or dozing, should be the proper word. Every so often she dozed, then opened her eyes and looked at her surroundings, eyes so blue Venta could almost see them ripple like water.
She sensed Ichigo turn to her, eyes of the council shift onto her and the child. He was going to take her back. Something sharp knifed through Venta, and she barely resisted to reaction to flinch at the internal stab. Rayn’s final moments in her arms were right here, right now… Next time it could be fighting with lightning, pushing it toward one another in order to survive themselves.
Her presence gave a weak fumble, sending a ripple in the Force that announced something unusual about the woman. There was one impulse that Venta unconsciously responded to: grip. Her arms gently tightened around Rayn: protective, longing, unwillingness to release something that Venta couldn’t deceive herself into not caring about. Maybe her master had been wrong. Maybe Sith could care about things. Precious things. And not things as in an object: things as in people and living beings. And it hurt to let them go. This wasn’t an “I miss you” feeling that she had in the past when Ichigo was gone for months on end. It was a hot vibroblade that wedged itself slowly through her center, agonizing.
There was another struggle to hold the illusion as she combated with such strong feelings. Venta wanted nothing more than to cry. And not a moment the thought crossed her mind did her face grow hot and her vision smeared colors and sharp images together. She was shocked when the first tear escaped and stung her cheek. She needed Rayn from her arms. The child was destroying her iron mask, and destroying her carefully crafted illusion to remain deceiving such of the Jedi Council. It took work, as her daughter was destroying a foundation built within the Sith. As she prepared to hand Rayn over to Ichigo in the few seconds this all happen, she heard a cold voice:
“You may release the child before you break her, Sith.”
Venta dashed the child back to her hip, anger welling up within her. But not anger at herself for being unable to hide herself in the Force, but being accused that she’d hurt Rayn. Rayn. One of the very few people she wanted to keep safe, and, at this moment, hold fast to her. Of all things to accuse Venta of, this couldn’t have been the greatest insult of all. Rayn was her handicapped child. Darth Semtri flipped back her hood, amber eyes a swirling whirlpool of her impulsive anger. She watched as every hand made a comforting move to their lightsaber, one or two standing, expecting strife. She glared at the Kel Dor who had made such a comment to her.
“How DARE you,” she hissed through clenched teeth at the council member. “How DARE you go as far as saying I’ll hurt the child I risked discovery on. How dare you assume that I would raise a finger to her. How dare you think I wish to hurt her before I hand her over to be taught the pathetic ways of the Jedi. I stand before you with an unwilling readiness to give you a strong Force sensitive child who is of Ichigo’s bloodline because it is best for HER.
“Selfish as I am being, she is going to be placed in your hands. I am being selfish because I am her mother. I have a right to be. This has nothing to do with being Sith!” Her voice was cracking now, and Venta was catching on a couple of words. Another unwanted and shameful tear approached over the rise and fall from her eye and glided down her face. “It has to do with being a mother. And unfortunately, you could look upon this as a mother having to give her daughter to her enemy. I wouldn’t expect any of you to understand that, because you are NEITHER mothers OR fathers of ANYTHING. You don’t have any sympathy, and that’s to be expected: I am the very thing you are all sworn to destroy and you do not have this experience.
“So, why don’t you just SHUT UP.”
A hushed and uneasy silence rested on the air as Venta held Rayn to her, gently but firmly. There was a definite tension as the Jedi glanced to one another, unable to make an understanding of Venta’s clear passion and what to do with this dark taint with Ichigo standing beside her, doing his best to radiate that calmness he always had about him.
