The Fine Art of Empathy (squee)

[Meira]

The trip back had been every bit as awkward as he had anticipated. With every passing minute, the silence between them became more solid. It called for them to speak, but at the same time pressed in against their lungs, making the called for act near impossible. The contradiction was painful.

When the city lights came into view, and the speeder began to make it's way through the evening traffic of Coronet, Rook's mood only seemed to worsen. They were coming ever closer to the palace, and what was sure to be an even more awkward good bye. He could see no way around it. When Sali left, their farewells would be perfectly in line with propriety and custom, and indeed it would be a great show, trained actors as they were. Every word and gesture would be painful to make. But they'd be made. That was certain. Eyes would be watching.

The speeder had reached the palace, and already the security details swarmed. Rook gave a sigh as he shut down the engine. There was no avoiding it any farther. It was time to go. But Sali's words stopped him, even as his hand touched the door handle. Though her voice was not loud, it cut through the silence that had built up between them, making it all the more sudden and startling. For the first time of the entire trip, Rook risked a look in her direction.

He was confused at the statement, the question that she had. Why would she want to stay, after everything that had happened? His eyes searched hers to gain the meaning, but his own confusion clouded his perception. He could not decypher her eyes. This left Rook with his own assumptions, and of the many, only one won out. Pity.

Sali felt bad for what had happened and wanted to make up for it. She wanted to make him feel better. A similar sensation that he had felt on the coast, a sudden surge of anger, hit him. But this time, it was accompanied by a dizzying dose of shame, which directed that anger in on himself. Was he so pathetic? Rook bit his tongue to hold back any sound that this anger might cause, and took a few breaths, looking away and out the window of the transport. The security teams were closing in, he didn't have much more time before they were at the transport and wondering why the two nobles weren't stepping out. Without turning his head back to look at Sali, Rook responded.

I would not wish to inconvenience you any futher, m'lady.

And with that, Rook opened his door. His features were a stiff mask now. He had shut himself down. He walked around the speeder and opened Sali's door just as the security teams reached them. He held his hand out to help her, but though his touch was no rougher than it had ever been, it lacked the warmth he had shown before. And he only held her hand so long as necessary before releasing it.

Already Rook too was being surrounded by security and advisers, all wanting to know, but not sure if they should ask where the two had been. Rook relieved their worries, offering a quick explanation in his following words.

Thank you, Queen Hyria, for indulging in my pride by allowing me to show you the Golden Coasts. I would hope to visit Onderon soon to return your kindness.

[Squee]

There was only a soft nod, which Rook would not see, and a very small, very quiet whisper, that was actually more for Sali than for Rook’s own ears. That whisper of, “of course,” that finally submitted her urge to smooth the riled blood. He wished her to be gone, and she would leave him. There was only so much she could say, which was already little, that would try to balance out what had happened. Sali didn’t like to leave feeling this way, but she wouldn’t pester Rook anymore. Now, and probably long before now, was the time to step down and open palms of submission.

Her hand had been resting on the door’s opening. Her eyes stared at the security teams. Her guards appeared almost as horribly flustered as the female escorts. She breathed a small sigh. Oh, how she had worried them! Yet she did not feel much regret for their worry. She really did hate this moment, this moment that stalled for too long. A moment long enough for her brows to gather and a moment long enough to frown harder. A moment long enough to stall that she felt a surge of surprise as the door’s firmness suddenly gave away. A small hiss, and the door opened easily and Rook’s hand rose to help her out.

Courtesy!

And just as Rook, she had adorned her invisible mask. And she placed her hand within his, hers fingers were the branches of a winter’s tree. They were stiff and lacked the gentleness because autumn had taken her final leave. And they would not bloom again until spring penetrated through the mask and into her heart. Sali extended the action with a polite thanks before security, servants and advisors swamped the area between the two and Sali’s lifeless fingers left Rook’s brisk palm. Her female escorts fretted about the filthiness of her dress’s hem, the flatness her hair had become, the physical emotional touches that withered her facial make-up all the while trying to determine her overall well-being. The guards spoke frantically, asking their lady if she was already and where she had been dragged off to. Sali had to force them a smile and relay to them she was fine.

Rook’s quick speak relieved some of the confused and worried tension. Sali had an almost subtle curve on her mouth as she glanced once at Rook. The acknowledging smile to not breach Sali’s dark eyes. When she nodded her head slightly in his direction, expressing how she looked forward to the day he came to Onderon. And after that, the smile failed to retain its structure. Turning back to her guards, she mentioned that it was time to leave. Sali did not say a farewell and let her guard lead the way back to her ship.

News spread like wildfire among the guards. Her order for immediate leave was plotted as she walked for her traveling transport. As she and the last of her people boarded via the ramp, the pilot sealed it shut. The ship began to whirr gently as Sali let her handmaidens guide her to her traveling suite, where they began to clean her face and brush out her hair. She grew suddenly tired, wishing nothing more than to search her wardrobe for a simple gown to slip on and huddle beneath the sheets of her bed. One asked briefly if she felt ill, but Sali only replied with a gentle lie to assure her maiden that she was perfectly well and merely felt a lack of rest. And then, almost impatiently, Sali suddenly waved her hands and dismissed her handmaidens with her hair still in a light tangle. With insistent shooing, Sali picked the brush up herself and finished what the maidens had started. She even took off the jewelry and simply tossed it, not really caring. There was an elaborated sigh as she stared hard at the interior of her room.

“An argument with a friend, I called it. And we’ve departed ways with bitterness and I’m suddenly hit with a wave of anger. Rook, damn you,” even though she didn’t mean it, “For the stupidity of confused and troubled emotions tonight. And argument with a friend, pah.” She saw herself in the dressing mirror. “And what are you looking at, reflection of one so disturbed? Looking at the woman who reaped more troubles upon a man who daren’t need anymore? See the stupidity that lays in the quarters of her brain? See the foolishness that dashes my face?” Sali rolled her eyes, then glared angrily at her reflection. “What am I doing talking to you?” Her heart throbbed as she let loose a long sigh, taking the remaining steps to her bed and seating herself on it. “Of all people, Sali… Of all people, it’s the king of Corellia you develop attachments to. That’s the one you visit to make sure he’s all right and the one you decide to take beach trips with. That’s the one you kiss in make believe and realize your fantasy too late. Friend indeed. Friends don’t kiss friends.

“But adorers do.“

Sali fell onto her side, drawing feet atop the bed with her.

“And I adore.”