The Darker Days of Me and Him

[Salem Ave]

Two days after 'Our Future Imperfect'...

The lunar equinox was fast approaching. In only two days, the Festival of Four Moons would reach its conclusion with the marriage of the Hapan Prince to the Onderonian Princess. Until then, they had nothing but time, time in which it seemed prudent for all parties involved in the holy ceremony to become better acquainted.

Today, it had been decided that Razielle would spend some time with the Hapan Ambassador, Aestiva. Whilst the two discussed the planning of the Princess's wedding, Tristan – fully on the road to recovery after his hunting accident – would indulge in some outdoor pursuits alongside Salem Ave who, in addition to giving Razielle away to her new husband, considered it an honour and a privilege to introduce him to the many customs of Iziz.

Along with the Queen and the rest of the court, the four of them had taken lunch and were just about ready to go there separate ways. As they rose to part, a number of eyes fell on Salem. It was strange, seeing him wearing anything other than a suit. What was even stranger still was that the Onderonian garb hung from him perfectly; with his wavy hair, dark tunic and sturdy boots, he looked every bit the native.

[Razielle Alastor]

She dared to let her eyes wander over Salem's retreating back. It was the very epitome of macabre that he was going to be giving her away to Tristan at their wedding in two days. To say nothing of him going off with her groom-to-be today. In fact she felt quite sick.

No wait.. That wasn't bridely jitters.. That was something else entirely.

Unobserved she smiled happily, reminding herself that it was temporary, she could get through this..

Turning to her companion for the day, she was surprised to catch Ambassador Ni'Liatoth with a similar look of adoration mixed with regret on her features. She followed the Ambassador's gaze straight to...

Prince Tristan.

Really...? Hmmm..

"Ready, Madame Ambassador?", she inquired politely, snapping the Hapan diplomat out of her reverie..

They were to make final touches to Razielle's bridal trousseau. Specially designed Hapan finery, a gift from her soon to be mother-in-law.

Oh, how she loathed her...

[Aestiva Ni'Liatoth]

Reluctantly, Aestiva tore her eyes away from the Prince as he swaggered off at the Prime Ministers side. He cast a glance back towards them, as he clapped Salem hard on the back, but he only had eyes for Razielle. Aestiva glanced down, to the plate of food she had been forcing herself to eat, and then across to her companion for the day.

“I am, Your Highness. Where shall we be spending the day?”

[Razielle Alastor]

"Well... the only certain thing on the agenda for the day is to make sure that the dress fits.. After that we can find something more...", she searched for the right word.

Somehow saying pleasant, sounded somehow offensive to Prince Tristan.

"..Well..more diverting. Perhaps a stroll through the Western Square?", she invited, trying to cajole the Ambassador into an open mood. She fully intended to dig at her today..

"So, would you accompany me to my rooms?", she ask, with a friendly smile..

[Aestiva Ni'Liatoth]

“Certainly.”

The Ambassador smiled. When it came to keeping up appearances, Aestiva had been trained very well. Even without the use of the Force, she was highly adept at concealing the truth. She was a politician of sorts, after all. As they walked, she admired the architecture and artist beauty of her surroundings, yet it all paled in comparison to the Castle of Per'Agthra. How she longed to return to the Fountain Palace...

“You have a wonderful home here, my lady.”

[Razielle Alastor]

"Thank you...", she said sincerely. "It's home and wonderful to me because the people that I love are here.."

She let the implications of the statement go. She could have meant anything from the people of Iziz, to the Queen herself, or more..

"Iziz has an ancient history and style of it's own. Nothing quite so spectacular as the beauty of the Consortium and Hapes..", she agreed.

"But lovely in it's very wildness... It's an untamed beauty.", she paused to nod to a passing courtier.

Coming to her chambers, Razielle entered and shook her head in dismay at the ordered chaos. Boxes were everywhere and a vexed looking Lira had been diligently trying to make sense of what should go where. Her wedding gown and it's many pieces had been laid out for her across her bed. She eyed it like it might bite her..

[Aestiva Ni'Liatoth]

It seemed such a small room for a Princess, quaint even. Her gaze lingered on the bed itself, wondering whether...

“How may I be of assistance?” she asked, hoping for anything to distract her from the awful train of thought that the bed had inspired.

[Razielle Alastor]

"Lira....? I would like a bit of time with the Ambassador please..", Razielle said softly.

"Yes, miss...", Lira boobed a curtsey her way, then left without another word, not questioning her mistress, or her wishes.

She was the only member of the Palace staff who knew how very unhappy Razielle truly was with the coming marriage, despite the great honor it was. Razielle also suspected that she probably even had her own suspicions about the child, considering how she woke sick every morning lately.. It was dangerous, but she trusted her maid-turned-confidante implictly..

"Ambassador...", she began. "I just wish to talk openly with you. Nothing more. I find myself in a situation that I did not forsee, and I would like to gain your insight. If you would allow it..?"

[Aestiva Ni'Liatoth]

Aestiva remembered the last time she had been asked such a question, by Tristan on the way to Onderon. It had left her with a bitter feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Of course. It is my duty and pleasure to offer you counsel.”

[Razielle Alastor]

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Razielle took the Ambassador's hand and pulled her to sit beside her. "I've spoken with Prince Tristan, of course. But, tell me.."

Razielle looked deep into her eyes, willing her to open up and be hoenst with her. "Tell me what kind of man he is. His nature? His likes and dislikes? I'm being married to a stranger here, and you seem to know him quite well.."

[Aestiva Ni'Liatoth]

“Prince Tristan is...”

What better answer could she give than the truth? A smile softened her features, suffusing them with warmth.

“Kind, loving, selfless. He is dutiful in all of his responsibilities, in particular those relating to his family. He and the Princess Elaine are very close, as I'm sure you must have gathered. As for his likes and dislikes... he is not a man of decadence. He enjoys simple pleasures: a home-cooked meal, a stroll in the countryside, any time spent with a loved one.”

She recalled how he had been aboard the Arbitrator – his hot temper, cooled by reason.

“He has such... passion inside of him, for everything in life.”

[Razielle Alastor]

Such a paragon of manly virtue and impressive emotional depth, any woman would be honored to call such a man husband. Any woman.. except her.

The Ambassador's words only further served to solidify what Razielle herself had already pieced together about her betrothed. She knew of his love for his sister, his sportsman-like nature and abhorrence to stand upon the mount of rigid formality. She did admire him, as a man..

But he was not for her, and it was regretable that he should become a pawn, but unavoidable. Tristan Alastor was a means to an end..

Ambassador Ni'Liatoth... She could be as well.

"You admire him greatly...", Razielle said, unoffended, and with a smile.

[Aestiva Ni'Liatoth]

It seemed unthinkable that she should not admire him, but she had not been asked to confess her own admiration. The Princess had asked for a judgement of character, so that was what she had given. Aestiva chose her words carefully.

“He is an admirable man. The two of you will make a charming couple.”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Mandalore stood stoically in the outdoor training ring that was part of the grounds of the palace. Still in full armor (she'd barely been out of it for the entire festival) and with the four person honor guard lounging nearby in the shade of a few trees, Lilaena waited patiently for her master and the Crown Prince to arrive.

As they came into view she stretched languidly, and subsided back into a relaxed stance while the pair walked closer.

[Salem Ave]

“Good afternoon, Mand'alor.” Salem bowed his head, though only a little.

“Thank you for agreeing to join us today... I'm sure you remember High Highness Prince Tristan.”

With a gesture, he indicated the Hapan, who was sporting an impressive bruise on his left temple. Nonetheless, he smiled, quite clearly excited at what the day ahead held. Seeing his boyish enthusiasm, Salem couldn't help but smirk.

“I hope you're feeling fit and ready. I suspect that the Prince will prove a most challenging opponent,” he added, his condescension apparently going unnoticed by Tristan.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She inclined her head silently towards the Crown Prince, and spoke to Salem through the helmets vox, her voice gravelly sounding. "I am prepared. The Prince will be as any ge'verd to me."

The honor guard sat up to watch the bout, the two female Mando'ade nearly knocking their helmets together as they spoke quietly. Lilaena was sure money was changing hands somewhere in the little group. She smiled, and began to unfasten her helmet. Granoi hopped up and strode over to collect her armor as Mandalore stripped out of the protective shell.

"Verd ori'shya beskar'gam." Granoi said knowingly. A warrior is more than their armor. Lilaena nodded, her piercing green eyes adjusting quickly to the natural sunlight that flooded the practice area. As the armor came off piece by piece, she revealed a toned and lithe body in calf-length leggings and a hip length sleeveless tunic that was tied tightly around her breasts.

The heavy armored boots were removed and replaced with light shoes designed for sparring. She began to stretch lazily, her short hair falling in front of her eyes as she reached for her liberated feet.

[Tristan Alastor]

That Mandalore was a woman did not surprise the Prince. He came from a society in which women took the most important and powerful roles in all arenas, even the military. If not for that, then Razielle had already made patently clear to him that the women of Onderon were a fierce breed indeed and not to be underestimated.

Seeing that his opponent for the day had already begun to warm up, Tristan too began to stretch, whilst Salem Ave took a step back to observe. When the Prime Minister had offered him the chance of engaging in melee with the notorious Mandalorian warriors, he had not imagined that he would face their leader, yet now confronted with her his resolve was not shaken.

“On what terms do we fight? Are there rules?”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"When a young warrior trains, there are no rules," Lilaena told him, "as the father teaches their own young as they see fit. In fighting for sport the rules are fairly common. We fight to submit our opponent physically or by knock out, and all fair holds and attacks are allowed."

Lilaena couldn't help but notice that the Prince was a handsome young man, and she also couldn't help noticing that he was not operating at one hundred percent. Some sort of accident in the days previous. It would be an interesting bout. "No hitting below the belt or the back of the head. No dirty grappling, such as fish hooks or eye gouges," she hooked her index finger in her mouth to demonstrate.

"We begin when you are ready. I have been asked to show you how the Mando'ade fight, and I will do so." Lilaena stood lightly on the balls of her feet, her hands at her sides. "Jossai will serve as mediator," one of the honor guard stood and moved closer, "keeping the fighters from accidentally killing the other should the fight get too serious. You may tap out at any time."

She glanced at Salem, trying to read his expression and failing. Did he want her to beat the hells out of the Crown Prince? It seemed as though it would be harder not to. But Lilaena knew better than to judge a person from the outside alone.

[Tristan Alastor]

Having no background in combat, Tristan found every thing Mandalore said quite fascinating. He was not physically weak, by any means, but his strength had not – until recently – been applied to anything, save the usual Hapan pursuit of simply appearing the peak of fitness and health. There was a lot of energy and aggression stored up inside of him, just waiting to be released. Feeling satisfied that he was as prepared as he would ever be, in his present state, Tristan nodded and tried to assume a posture that mirrored his opponents'.

“I am ready.”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena nodded, the scar on her face more visible than usual because the long days spent in the Wilds had tanned her skin. Mandalorians were who they were because of the armor they wore, but they did not wear it all the time. She bounced a little on her feet, and brought her hands up to a guard position. The Prince copied her, his muscles bunching up impressively as he did so. He was not bulky by any means, having nearly the same sort of lean muscle tone that she did. He was larger than her, but inexperienced.

Lilaena quickly covered the ground between them, her right fist snaking out to test the Prince's defences. He knocked her punch aside instinctively, but failed to keep his guard up and her left hand jabbed him hard in the face.