These Shattered Stars -- Logs

Freyja takes a breath, thinking furiously. While she'd like to ask more about that, there are a few more things she simply must know, before she indulges herself in theoretical speculations with her friends. Therefore, to Master Roakkana she says, "By the way, have you received a small package for me, listed as being in your care? It would be from a Watcher, and would hopefully contain the transcripts from the recordings of the Darksiders' complaints, on Kalarba?"

Roakkana makes a small sound. "Oh, was that what it was? I did not open it or peruse the contents, mostly because for a week after I got it the watchdog could barely conceal his curiosity, and considering his association I felt disinclined to satisfy that curiosity. After we heard what had been going on at Kalarba, however, he seemed to have divined what the package referred to. But yes, I did receive that package." He digs through a pouch on his baldric for a moment, before producing a small data-cart. "Here you are," he says, offering it to Freyja.

Freyja accepts the data-cart with a small grin, appreciating Master Roakkana's gentle teasing of the 'watch-frehkee.' "Thank you, Master. I hope this will help us figure out ways we can live more peacefully with them in the Republic. Would you like to see it too?" She adds a little shyly, "Um... do you think we handled the Kalarban situation all right?"

"I'd certainly be curious as to what you have been up to! So yes, I would like to see the data at some point." He smiles, "Just from what I have seen, I can only imagine you handled it as best as you were able. I have faith that you did the right thing. I have concerns about the future of that region, but sometimes doing the right things mean having to do more 'right things' in the future, and not just leaving something alone."

Freyja looks a bit puzzled for a moment, then realizes Master Roakkana is referring more to the background elements now put into action by their intervention, rather than specific details of what the triat did. She considers a moment... then nods slowly. It's a qualified hai, they did good. That should be enough, she guesses. Only time will tell for sure, after all.

She nods again, then asks, "Also, has there been any further news on what happened to that captured Sith lord, Kuldron Vasser?" She hesitates, then says slowly, "I... can't help but feel sorry for him. I doubt it would occur to his captors to hold him through his sense of honor, rather than by force." She adds even more curiously, "And... has there been any further news on us?" She wonders what sort of reputation the small group is garnering... if any.

"Mmm. Lord Vasser's condition has been often talked about amongst masters, from what I have been told. We are still not sure. I have heard so many varying reports on what his disposition is that I should not even begin to relate the rumors. Suffice it to say anything you can imagine as having brought him into the Republic has been rumored."

He smiles pleasantly. "As for you... well, there has been some speculation as to what you have been up to ever since you were noted as being on Kalarba. Never has the stubbornness and dogma of the Order militant been so at work for you than on that day; they obstinately refused to pass on the order that you be held there. Besides that, however... there has been much speculation, but few have suspected what it is you found on the Outer Rim."

Freyja hms thoughtfully, "So the war front is advancing about as we expected, and the peace talks are a surprising interlude to most... the Kalarban trial is fortunately progressing slowly but steadily... Kalatis is vanished and Khoud is probably scrambling madly to get here, to prevent the war from ending any time soon -- and we're going to talk to Ghang, I'll fulfill my duty here, and then we'll head on out and hope we can make a difference!" She grins, "Sounds simple when we put it that way, eh?"

Freyja adds, "Do we know when Sith lord Ghang is expected here? If we're lucky, when Ghang makes his accusation Argent Ling will be here too... or at worst there'll be a reasonable Watcher around to verify at least some of it."

Zero grins a bit. "He'll be here. Argent makes a habit of showing up at the worst possible times."

"Well, the front has frozen, of course, with the ceasefire. This is the first time in six years there has not been any sort of fighting with the Sith at all. Lord Ghang is expected to arrive in the next two days. His battleship is holding position several days' travel away, as specified by the ceasefire agreement, and he is en route now."

Freyja giggles cheerfully at Zero from where she's curled up against Master Roakkana. She's not exactly sanguine about either the wedding or the incipient political turmoil approaching... but she's happy to be facing it with such dear friends. She nods and smiles to Master Roakkana, "All right. That means he'll be arriving on my birthday, right? On the actual wedding day?" She laughs quietly, adding amusedly, "This is weirdly fascinatingly fun! Who'd believe the war stopped just because some silly girl invited the invading general to her family union?"

Zero says, "Or that he'd actually come." Freyja grins and nods. She's still somewhat floored by that herself.

Roakkana chuckles. "Or late in the day. It depends on the vagaries of hyperspace, the efficiency of Sith hyperdrives, and on if he wants to make a noticeable entrance or not."

Freyja nods, "All right. I'll just plug determinedly on through the day, then." She sighs, gracefully stretching long, golden limbs, "Well! Guess I should go see Leif, and make sure he's all right with everything." She bounces lightly to her feet and pulls on her decorated indoor coat and house boots, then smiles with quiet happiness at her Family of the Heart, "You all should make yourselves comfortable wherever you'd like in this wing. Um..." a little shyly she adds, "Feel free to move into my suite too, if you'd like?"

Freyja realizes she's going to have to hurry if she's to be at the Haus landing pads for family in time to welcome Leif. Considering how much she dislikes coming home to an empty landing pad, and how much she owes Leif for his kindness to her, she definitely wants to be there for him! She gives the four men -- all of them part of her Family of the Heart -- a hug and a cheek rub. Then she tells them she'll be back soon, and dashes out of the room.

Waiting outside, such that she almost trips over his recumbent form across the doorway (although years of experience with frehkees causes her to remember and step high)... is Stein. With him is another, younger frehkee, and they both leap to their feet and follow her dash down the hallway at a happy, panting, rapid trot.

Freyja glances to each side where they've flanked her, and grins, "Well, hello there! Are you Stein's new best friend?" She cheerfully rubs both sets of ears, then shushes them (a bit unnecessarily), and all three peek around the hall corner's wall into the main entryway, one above the next in an impromptu totem pole stack of curious heads.

Freyja whispers to the frehkees, "Wolf-feathers... more guests. Better use the back, or we'll be late!" She slides silently back, followed by the interested frehkees, then dashes light-footedly down the hallway to the back stairway. Down the stairs in a clatter of frehkee claws -- her decorated felt indoor boots are silent -- then through the kitchen, tossing happy greetings to the startled servants there. She pauses only long enough at the back door to search for, find, and pull on the pair of outdoor boots kept there for her infrequent visits... then she's out the door before anyone can remember something she's supposed to be doing!

Freyja can be seen from her suite's windows above, should any of her friends happen to be looking -- flying fleetly down the path, flanked by two happily woofling frehkees, laughing and doing the occasional cartwheel or flip. Her dark blue greatcoat is unbuttoned in the cold winter afternoon, and her brilliant hair flies behind her like scarlet flame. She seems utterly unworried by the chill, however -- to her, the snowflake-whipping wind is a wonderful reminder of being alive!

Freyja pauses, calling the frehkees close as she shades her eyes and looks up into the cloud-laden sky. The shuttle should be descending soon. She hopes Leif doesn't mind her having changed again... she hopes he liked the little giftings... she hopes she'll quit worrying so much! He's going to have his mind full of his farmers, not his ever-changing, wyrd-touched betrothed! She grins ruefully to herself and waits patiently, a slender golden figure wrapped in midnight-blue and flanked by two happy, panting frehkees, her hair a bright flame in the gloom of the closing afternoon.

Very shortly the rest of the family has arrived, in particular Freyja's mother and father. While her father may look put off that they didn't all go to the pad together to greet Leif, he says nothing. The sleek, baroque shuttle descends quickly through the clouds in the distance, and a minute later its repulsorlifts are whining as they lower the vaguely boat-shaped hull with large engines down to the landing pad.

Freyja smiles and salutes her parents politely. Stein flops comfortably across her booted feet, still panting, and she giggles, looking down at him with a grin. He always was good at knowing when she didn't feel like moving! As the shuttle descends she smiles, looking up to watch it, her blue eyes narrowed against the rush of displaced air and her hair and greatcoat flying back wildly.

Once the engines shut down she self-consciously pulls her coat tidily closed, and her hood up. She doesn't know precisely why, but she still feels a little shy sometimes around Leif... as if she still owes him something, but isn't sure quite what yet. Well... that, and honesty compels her to admit to herself she's not sure how people are going to react to her changing so much yet again. She waits for the gangplank to descend, listening to the ticking of the cooling engines in the softly whistling winter wind.

A minute or so after the engines shut down, the forward ramp drops and extends. Freyja's betrothed, Fafnir Leif-Kreil Jotunsen, soon to be Fafnir Rigg, is standing there, talking quickly and hurriedly with an advisor in Rigg livery, "-and just make sure they know we're not going to be having armsfolk hanging over them for the next few days."

The advisor nods and goes back into the shuttle, no doubt to use the comm system within, while Leif steps down from the shuttle. He looks tired (though that's probably to be expected) as he salutes Freyja's family formally, which is returned. There is perhaps a moment of surprise when he spots Freyja, but it passes and he smiles and bows to her. "It is good to see you again, Arving Lady." He certainly hasn't changed; somehow he's managed to keep his hair in the mane that it was when she last saw it, though his spectacles seem to be tucked neatly away.

Freyja waits until the others are done to step forward. She's pleased he doesn't seem displeased... she smiles and bows courteously in return, "It is a pleasure to return and find you well, Arving Lord. It is my hope we may talk together privately at some point... perhaps soon?"

Freyja wonders how to quickly reassure and 'reach' Leif emotionally. She needs to talk to him about some rather... difficult issues, after all, and last time she spoke with him at all extensively she was still in aristoi mode for a large part of the conversation -- which wasn't really fair to poor Leif. How to show him it's really her? She considers internally, then nods thoughtfully to herself. Maybe if she takes him to a childhood favorite place? -lets a little of herself show? That might do it.

Leif smiles and nods. "Certainly. I look forward to it." At that point, of course, Freyja's father interjects, asking for Leif's impression of the situation on the moon.

"They're concerned, of course," Leif says easily, managing to not show much weariness. "They feel the Sith Lord coming here will be at the head of a battleship group and we're next on the schedule. I had Captain Elderidge from the naval base come in and talk with them one night -- that seemed to help -- but I don't think they're going to be happy until the Sith are on their way, or there's some kind of signed treaty."

The answer seems to satisfy the Baron, and the party begins to head back to the manse. Freyja watches the conversation between the two men, then smiles a bit, "Ah... Father, Mother, I'd like to speak with lord Fafnir for a bit, but after that, if you don't mind, I think we all need to discuss the Sith lord... all four of us, and Master Roakkana too, please? Maybe in an hour or two?"

The baron and baroness exchange looks, and Freyja's father nods. "Of course, Freyja. Believe me, we're very interested in hearing about this as well. Two hours in the conference hall, if you would." A little unusual; the conference hall is usually where the Baron receives visitors and aristoi from other cantons, and managers and executives from Cyteller Automaton.

Freyja thinks a moment, then says quietly, "Perhaps someplace more... private, Father? Maybe your study, or another room in your suite...?"

Forsetti Rigg studies his daughter for several long moments, and it looks for a moment that he's going to insist on the conference hall. But then he nods. "Very well. My office, then. I've first some reports to vet before sending them to the Chamber, as it is."

Freyja smiles, "Thank you, honored parents." She salutes them politely, watching them leave, then turns and smiles at Leif, "So... how are you doing? Would you like to go someplace a little warmer to talk?" Freyja and Leif find themselves walking with each other, and it's in the close proximity that Freyja can see the faint lines under his eyes.

Leif smiles wanly, rubbing his forehead a little. "Anywhere, actually. It's cooler on the moon this time of year. I'm... all right. It's just been very tense up on the moon with the news of the Sith coming. The farmers up there always felt they'd be the first targets in an invasion of Balmorra."

Freyja gently and companionably loops an arm through Leif's, "It's all right... we don't have to worry about that right this minute, hai? Come... I'll show you one of my childhood hidey-holes!" She grins, leading him into the manse. They shed outer coats and boots, and she gently encourages the frehkees to go have something to eat in the kitchen.

Then, walking quietly but swiftly, she dodges through several rooms, avoiding people and droids with the ease of long practice. She grins at Leif, her eyes dancing, as they turn several corners until they arrive at a round tower rising upwards through the floors, with a small, closed door in it. "Big houses are good to get lost in, hai? This is my tower. The southern one was my sister's... well, they weren't really ours, but we got to decorate them as we pleased, and I'd go hide in mine when I wanted to be alone."

Freyja touches the panel next to the door and it slides silently open... revealing Vakkal. He's settled comfortably on one of the sitting cushions there by the central lift shaft that goes up the center of the tower, with stairs circling around it all the way to the top. Freyja blinks, then laughs softly, drawing Leif in and closing the door behind them. Her tone is gently teasing, "Heiyo, Vakkal! Read my mind, eh?" She smiles, adding, "Thank you for the warning should anyone come looking for us."

Vakkal smiles cheerfully. "I knew you would come here at some point when you started making your way through the corridors. I merely used the backways to get here first." He inclines his head. "I will let you know should anyone come looking for you."

Freyja stoops to hug Vakkal happily, "You're a sweetheart!" then grins to Leif, "Shall we take the stairs? It's only five flights, and we can talk on the way." She suits her actions to her words, lightly darting around the circling stairs once until Vakkal can't be seen any longer. She looks back at Leif, her eyes and her smile flashing in the dim lighting spaced regularly along the walls, "I used to pretend, climbing the stairs here. I'd play at being people in the stories I loved! Did you ever have any of those?"

Freyja turns, looking upwards, stretching out a hand and adding softly,
"What lady is that, which doth enrich the hand
Of yonder knight?
Oh, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
Like a rich jewel in an Zabrak's ear;
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand,
And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand."

Freyja glances back at Leif, smiling, and hopes he likes it... and ruthlessly squelches the small sarcastic voice inside murmuring that he's just as likely to laugh. Leif smiles also, a little of the weariness behind his eyes fading. "It's very lovely," he says. "It's a little embarrassing as a history student to admit I don't recognize it, though...?"

Freyja grins, encouraged as she continues up the stairs, "Oh, it's the old love story, remember? The two conflicting Hausa, and the 'star-crossed lovers' who bring them together?" She darts up a few more steps, then pauses in a fencing pose, adding, "It has the greatest fight scene, too!" She looks up again, one fist on her hip, the other out as if negligently holding a sword, her tone almost mocking,
"What wouldst I have with thee?
Good king of cattas, nothing but one of your nine lives; that I mean to make bold withal, and as you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pitcher by the ears? -make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out!"

Leif chuckles softly. "Oh, I remember now. 'Two Hausa, of like dignity, on fair Balmorra once stood.'"

Freyja beams down at Leif, "Hai! That's the one!" She darts up and down the stairs a bit, pantomiming fencing with an invisible opponent, "The story -- hah! -- was a rather sad one, and I always thought -- take that! -- they'd have done better to be honest with each other. Still -- whist! Close one -- it had the loveliest love scenes and fight scenes!"

She dodges a 'close' blow by leaning abruptly up against the outer wall, then adds in a confidential tone to Leif, "Smart duelists, of course, stick to the outer wall -- stairs are wider there! Wouldn't want to slip on the narrow inner stairs, and fall and hurt one's tailbone..." She giggles, 'fighting' up a few more stairs and tossing over her shoulder, "Not that that's the voice of experience or anything!"

Leif laughs, as he follows Freyja up the stairs. "Well, perhaps not on stairs, I imagine."

Freyja giggles, then pauses, panting lightly, on the upper floor of the stairwell, waiting for Leif to arrive. She smiles as he steps out next to her in the dimness, her breath caught already, "But of course, I always liked the happy ending stories best. Remember the one about the Lady Sha'ari Zahd, who entertained her tyrannical husbond, the King Shahryar, with never-ending stories each night, so he wouldn't slay her in the morning, like all his other poor husbonda... and waited patiently every day for her mother the Countess to arrive to rescue her, at the head of the army of allied Hausa who wanted revenge for all their deceased offspring? And she did it, too!"

Freyja touches the lock-pad by the lift door, whispering, "Open sesame!" The roof slides open and a small stair-ladder descends, leading up to the interior of the onion-shaped dome above. Freyja smiles at Leif, starting up the stairs, "That's what I decorated like, here... what I thought her waiting and watching room would be like."

The room is circular -- surprisingly, also warm -- with the pointed dome above, and awash in the soft afternoon light. A window goes around the entire room, with a plethora of colorful, soft pillows piled under it. The carpeted floor is also soft, and the decoratively pierced brass lantern hung by chains high above lights up smoothly.

Embroidery, mosaics, and wall paintings sparkle throughout the room... fantastic winding beasts and runes swirl, snarl, and entangle on the inside of the dome in jeweled and mirrored splendor, reflecting the intricate carpet's designs. The stairs recede into the floor after Leif... and it's just the two of them, alone in a cozy room soaring above the mansion, almost in the clouds.

Freyja grins a little self-consciously, "It, ah... may be a bit... busy. I was rather young when I decorated it." She tilts her head to regard Leif as he enters the room, her hands clasped behind her. One fiery golden lock of hair slides across her face, and she absently tucks it back behind an ear, still watching him and wondering what he thinks.

Leif is a little amazed at the sight that greets him as he enters, looking around the room. "It's lovely," he says, reaching out to almost touch one of the mosaics. He smiles, then. "Far and away from the entire rest of the manse..."

Freyja nods, looking around. The room brings back memories. "Hai. I kept whatever books I was reading over there, in that little cedar chest." She laughs softly, "Locked, of course, since I kept books I was sure my parents would disapprove of in there."

She pushes her hair back, pacing slowly in as if she were pacing back in time, "I... don't know now if they really would have... but... well, it wasn't great literature, you know? -and I really wanted to read them. Fascinating, thought-provoking stories that made me look out the window and dream of far away and otherwhen." She gracefully relaxes across a pile of pillows to look out the window again, then smiles up at Leif and pats the pillows next to her in silent invitation.

Leif smiles, settling -- a bit heavily -- onto the pillow seat. "Thank you. I think I can understand about the books." He chuckles softly. "I'm sure Father would have rather I studied agriculture than history when I was younger."

Freyja grins, then falls silent for a bit, just looking out through the window. The view is breathtaking. The manse falls below in swoops and crenellations, while beyond it lies the broad sweep of lawn -- spattered with patches of snow at this time of year. Bordering even farther out is the dark, snow-capped green of the thick estate woods. She forgets just how many acres the entire estate is, but she knows farther out than that, farther than she can see on a cloudy day like today, lie the hidden, carefully constructed factories which both encircle her family's estate and are the cause of its riches.

Freyja stays silent for a while, comfortable with the quiet, and figuring Leif probably needs a moment to decompress himself from his just-finished mission. Plus, if he has any questions... this will give him a chance to ask them too.

Leif is quiet as he also looks out the windows. He seems a little less tired, but at the same time less guarded and so shows it more. He'd been up on the moon for several weeks, and from all accounts got very little sleep. It's probably a surprise when, instead of falling asleep, he quietly speaks.

"They're terrified, Freyja. There was a street preacher in Jotunsberg the day I first got there, talking about what Darksiders were capable of. He spoke about the moon the Brotherhood destroyed in the Heresy Wars. I wouldn't have given him another thought except... the crowd he was talking to was large, and they were scared. I spent an hour on the podium there, debating his points."

He laughs a little. "Made me an hour late for the meeting with the Farmers' Diet, but I suppose it was worth it. But every day it was more doomsayers. And sometimes they weren't as easy to spot as they were on the street corner."

Freyja turns her head to listen silently. At some point as Leif's speaking, her hetaerae training gently nudges at her. She puts a hand out and starts quietly rubbing his shoulders... and after a bit, if he doesn't seem to object, she shifts so she can continue comfortably rubbing his back.

He sighs a bit, tucking his head forward a little and not pulling away from the very comforting backrub. "I think I've managed to reassure them," he says with a little extra energy. "Promised them that things will go all right; that they've nothing to worry about. I just don't want them to live scared. But I don't know what to expect from the Sith either. Or why they're coming."

Freyja's voice is soft and non-intrusive, "Has anyone around here ever knowingly met one -- a Darksider?"

"Darksiders... there are legends, the occasional anecdote, about a Darksider showing up. The Jedi are usually very quick to spot them. The last major incident was a few hundred years ago, and that was in a small hamlet near that unsworn Rodian Mos."

Freyja nods and continues to give Leif a nice, slow, thorough backrub as she talks, "The Sith... well, to be honest, I haven't met that many. I've met as many Darksiders as actual Sith, I think... that I know of, at least." She sighs, adding quietly, "It's... complicated. Well... war always is."

She continues the backrub, slowly and strongly, and finally asks quietly, "Leif... may I ask a possibly difficult question? May I ask... if you're having any second thoughts about the agreement we made almost two years ago, regarding your running the Haus and my following the will of the Force? I... don't want you to be stuck doing something you hate, just because of me...?"

He looks up, looking genuinely surprised. "Second thoughts? Neh, none. Whyever would you ask -- oh!" He chuckles softly. "Neh. Neh second thoughts. Freyja, calming the farmers on the moon -- it's an unenviable job. It would wear anyone out. It may have exhausted me, but I don't want you to think I resent doing it."

Freyja smiles, shaking her head slightly, "Neh, Leif, that I'm not worried about. I know you'll take care of your people just fine. I just... well, I know Father can be... ah... a handful, on occasion. Plus there's the inevitable stupid politics and backstabbing and sniping and economic slaps and -- oh, all of it, you know?!" There's a soft weariness to her voice, and he can tell she'd be in much the same state were she in his shoes.

She continues slowly, "I... I guess I want you to know I'm very, very grateful you're willing to take this on for me. I know it's not an easy job. I know what it entails." She's silent for a bit, still working with long, slow, strong strokes down one side... then says softly, "Did you like the little giftings? Did they help a little... I hope?"

Freyja suddenly realizes the question she's really looking for, and slowly asks it, "Leif... is there anything I can do for you, to make this job you're doing for me any easier?"

Leif chuckles a little grimly. "Your father. He's a storehouse of information, mind you, and very knowledgeable. And he's an excellent leader. All the executives and managers adore him. But he's a hard man, Freyja, and he and I butt heads now and then over some of the most ridiculous things."

He smiles warmly, looking to Freyja. "The gifts helped a great deal; thank you. Your mother was wondering what had made you use a quasi-legal weapons dealer as a go-between, but they helped me to know you were wishing me the very best in this." He lets out a breath, thinking upon her question, then grins a bit mischievously. "Yes, actually. You can tell me what happened to make your hair and skin such striking hues."

Freyja grins ruefully at Leif's admission about her father -- she knows precisely how that can go! She giggles softly in spite of herself at the comment about her mother's musings, and looks inordinately pleased to hear the giftings were appreciated and enjoyed.

At Leif's final question, though, she blinks -- then laughs! "That... that's all you want? You're sure there's not more I could do?" She grins, continuing to work on Leif's shoulders now, pleased at feeling the tension slowly ebbing away.

He smiles, shaking his head. "I'm sure. You're going to be quite the sight when we go to Curia tomorrow, after all. Like the mythic Aelfar."

Freyja blinks, lifting one golden hand to thoughtfully regard it, "Like... oh, my!" She laughs again, a touch self-consciously, "Goddess... I used to wish so hard I could look beautiful like everyone else!" She grins ruefully, "Guess I should have stipulated better who the everyone else was!" She giggles again, then cheerfully adds, "Well, that's not so bad, really. The Aelfar were always the Lord Frey's folk -- the people of the Sun and the Mist."

Freyja belatedly continues rubbing Leif's back, "I... I'm not sure precisely what happened, really. Zero says Sedrak changes the color of its people's eyes and hair sometimes, and his eyes are that lovely violet color, but he also said it took about a year for it to occur. I wasn't there that long... although we were doing a lot of work within the Force, and fixing Darkside things, and stuff like that. I guess that's what caused it, at least initially... and it's gotten stronger since then. My hair grows a lot faster than I remember it doing before, for example."

Freyja is quiet for a moment... and then he can hear the shy pleasure in her voice as she considers the ramifications of being compared to the traditionally inhumanly lovely Fey, "Leif... do you really think I look as nice as the Aelfar?" As if to accentuate her words, a lock of fiery golden hair trails silkily across Leif's cheek, while she works on his shoulders.

He doesn't quite give a start with the touch of her hair, but he does smile to her and nod. "Yes," he says simply, "I do."

Freyja blushes quietly as she continues rubbing his back, although he can hear her beaming smile in her voice as she murmurs softly, "...thank you." A little self-consciously she adds, "I... I used Staster to send the giftings so people wouldn't be able to track me by following someone in the Haus. Didn't want to cause any trouble to anyone here."

She smiles quietly to herself for a while, still quite touched at being compared to the Fey, then adds softly, "And... I wanted you to know I appreciated your effort on my behalf... even if I died on quest. So... they'll keep arriving for another three years or so. I... if you ever want them to stop, just tell Staster. He'll be a bit startled you were able to track him, but he's a good man -- he'll do as you ask."

Freyja smiles, "And... if you like them, well... please enjoy them!"

He winces a little at that thought, then smiles again. "I wouldn't want to even think of you dying. And I wouldn't even imagine asking him to stop. It's always a wonderful, pleasant surprise."

Freyja grins shyly again, "Oh... good. I'm really pleased you like them!"

Freyja continues to rub Leif's back for a bit... then slowly, quietly tells him something that's been bothering her for several weeks -- she tells him of the suspicion of the Republic military intelligence schools concerning the advancing Sith having little difficulty with the conquered peoples, and her deep worries about what that says about aristoi, and her self-questioning as to whether or not fighting is the answer -- as in, do the kurasai find they like the Sith better? Are the Sith just better rulers than the aristoi?

Leif sighs a bit. "I do not know what to make of that. Not all worlds have the system of aristoi and kurasai that we have. A lot of worlds have been the way they have been for millennia, since the beginning of, if not earlier than, the Republic. Depending on the psychology of the inhabitants, many worlds might see their social order simply collapse from shock at their way of life being changed."

Freyja nods quietly, listening.

He smiles softly. "What kind of historian would I be if I didn't research, though? Not every world is simply giving up the ghost like that. There's always, always some resistance. On minor worlds which resist Sith rule -- especially after they started their latest blitzkriegen -- the Sith blockade the world and tell them they'll ask for a surrender later."

"For major worlds... well, they spend a lot time and energy in pacification. Even before they started their lance-thrust strategy, that was what they tended to do. It's the worlds you don't hear about that the fighting is still fiercest on. Look at Dantooine; there's still fighting there two years after the Sith first arrived."

Freyja listens thoughtfully while he speaks, then says quietly, "Well... I thought I'd ask the kurasai themselves what they thought. But I can't do it easily or fast or accurately if they know what I'm really asking, especially if aristoi or the media are part of the question. So... I thought of something to do to find out their thoughts on the matter."

Freyja sighs with a soft smile, shifting to work down Leif's other side, "It would work well... but it would have to be after the ceremony in the cathedral, which would make it, ah... rather public. There will be those who will accuse me of rabble-rousing. Others will accuse me of trying to take advantage of my station in the Order, or to curry favor for Haus Rigg... I'm sure there will be other indignant accusations as well."

Freyja looks ruefully -- she's well aware of how people love to twist everything to their own uses or beliefs -- then adds, "So I wanted to warn you ahead of time, so you could stand back a bit and not have to unwittingly be a part of it."

He snorts a little. "Not be a part of it? I'll do that... only if you order me to, my Arving Lady!" He grins. "If for neh other pragmatic reason than I have to rule them when you aren't here. And more importantly, I want to be beside you when you ask them. That's part of what I'm to do, isn't it? Help out as best as I can with your ruling duties?"

Freyja looks down, her face hidden by her shining hair sliding softly between them. Her voice is quietly sincere, "Thank you, Leif. I... had to give you the option, though." She takes a deep breath, then straightens, "Let me tell you what I thought to do first, all right? Who knows -- you might have a better idea!"

She smiles, although there's pain lurking behind her gaze. The thought she might have been living a lie all this time haunts her... it's a phantom she greatly wishes to exorcise. Leif is not so tired as to be completely ignorant; he sees that look. He nods quietly, straightening a bit and listening intently.

Freyja takes another breath, then nods firmly once, and speaks with the same confidence her hands have, working slowly and surely across Leif's back to exorcise any lingering tension. "You know the traditional battle cry of Balmorra, hai? The general or leader calls out, 'Still we stand!' and ritual demands the people call back, 'Balmorra! Balmorra! Balmorra!' three times, to signify our traditional mutual support and need of each other, aristoi and kurasai both."

Freyja says, "Well... after we've been united by the Pope, and the ceremony is technically over, there'll be that short moment where we're supposed to turn and pose for the audience with the Pope behind us. All wonderfully arranged, all that nonsense... then we're supposed to head slowly down the nave steps and the cathedral aisle, while according to the script the music will swell inspiringly, and then out the cathedral, down the stairs, and into the traditional slaypneer-drawn carriage so the crowds can see us as we're driven in the parade to the Haus Rigg palace for the reception?"

Freyja says, "All right. So... this is what I'm going to try. In that moment where we're supposed to just stand there and look good for the holovids, I'd thought to step forward and give the Balmorran battle cry. The aristoi in the cathedral will reply as tradition demands, of course -- they must, or appear to welcome the Sith invasion."

Freyja takes a slow breath -- she's very nervous about what answer she may receive -- then continues, "But... but outside, where the crowds have been watching the ceremony via the huge screens, piped out by the holocams... those are the people whose answer I really want to hear."

She bites her lip, mingled protective and patriotic feelings welling up inside her, confusing her with their intensity. She fights it back so her voice doesn't quaver with emotion as she finishes, "If... if they give the call-back when we come out, Leif... if the kurasai reply -- then I'll know. I'll know they do want us to fight for them... and they don't want the Sith."

Leif is quiet for a moment. "It's daring," he says gently. "The Sith may be here, if they arrive early -- may even be in attendance; it'd be impossibly rude to not extend the invitation to them. If nothing else, they may even be inbound and will receive it over the holovid."

Freyja says quietly, steadily, "They should hear it, Leif. Whatever answer the people give... if the Sith think to rule, they should know the will of the people too. And... and if the kurasai would rather put their faith in the Sith, well..." She takes another deep breath, pausing to rub her eyes, wondering why her vision's gotten a little blurry, "-well... then we should not stand in their way."

Freyja blinks, a bit surprised to see she's getting teary-eyed up about this, then adds, "And the Sith Lord Ghang Si'yul will be there if he can make it. He's an Honored Stranger. I invited him." She sighs, adding, "I hope you don't mind, Leif. I... it seemed like the right thing to do at the time, to get him to come to the negotiating table."

Leif is quiet for a moment more, then reaches forward to take her hands. "All right," he says, smiling. "I'll be proud to stand with you there. Is there anyone you want to quietly inform about this beforehand?" Then he nods quietly. "I understand. If nothing else it's brought us a few weeks of breathing. The Fates willing, we'll have more than just this short reprieve as well."

Freyja flashes a look of relieved gratitude to Leif, squeezing his hands gently in reply. She shakes her head, "Not about the traditional call, neh. It'd be too easy to coach the crowd, or excite them even more, so they just kept yelling -- the holovids would love that, after all. But that won't answer the question... I need to know what they want." She leans against Leif a bit, inordinately pleased he's not upset or incredulous or dismissive, and adds, "But that I invited the Sith lord? Hai... that's what I have to talk to my parents about."

He nods quietly. "They'll be waiting for us in your Father's study..."

Freyja nods, sitting up and rubbing her face, then pushing her hair back, "Hai." She smiles a little shakily at Leif, then grins and adds (with the beginnings of the return of her usual calm humor), "So... ready to face the angry geri-cat?"

Leif rolls his eyes a bit. "Never am! But at least we can hope someone's give him a saucer of milk first..."

Freyja giggles in spite of herself, then leans to give Leif a quick, sincere hug, "Thank you, Leif. You've really helped." She whispers to Master Roakkana via the link, asking him if he could meet her parents, her betrothed, and herself in a few minutes in the planned location.

A few minutes later, as Freyja and Leif enter her father's office, they find the baron seated at his desk (which seems rather uncluttered for once), and the others seated in various chairs scattered about the room. Freyja smiles at Master Roakkana, nods to her parents, and settles comfortably near the Wookiee, so she can face her parents as she speaks.

Freyja starts with little preamble... she's expecting unpleasantness, considering her father apparently believes in practically surrendering to the Sith -- so getting this over with quickly seems wise. "Greetings, honored parents. I have some news I feel I must share with you, concerning the arrival of the Sith lord Ghang Si'yul, and how that arrival will affect our Haus." She pauses politely.

Her father folds his hands in front of his chin. He looks perfectly neutral, and willing to let Freyja explain at her own pace.

Freyja nods and continues, "Due to... several circumstances all coming together at the right time, my companions and I found ourselves... in calm conversation with the Sith lord Ghang Si'yul. Since I am, ah... a curious person," the corners of her lips turn up slightly at that whopper of an understatement, "-and the Sith lord did not seem unamenable, I asked him about the war. Specifically, I asked what was in the Balmorran sector that the Sith wanted so badly, since it was towards here, not Coruscant, the army was headed."

With quiet wonder she adds, "And... he told me."

The Baron's eyes flash a bit -- and after years of knowing her father's mannerisms, Freyja can tell that she just got twice his complete, utter, and undivided attention.

Freyja quietly, dispassionately, and concisely explains. She tells the bare bones, but she tells everything they need to know to understand... about the Oath of Fire, how they feared and hated the Jedi, and how they started the war; that the Sith found out about them and stamped them ruthlessly out -- then turned to see what the Jedi were doing, and found them dealing with their own Order-based 'Oathers'... and how the Sith are determined to catch both the Republic traitor who sold war droids to the Oathers, to promote the war -- and the Jedi who leads the Order's version of the Oath of Fire... because the Sith do not trust the Republic or the Jedi to permanently deal with the 'Bright Oathers.'

Freyja says quietly, "That is why the Si'yul is coming here. I invited him to the wedding as the Honored Stranger. I couldn't think of a better way to get him to the negotiating table... and while I know it won't resolve everything, his telling the Republic why the Sith are doing this will hopefully be the first step in stopping the war."

She waits calmly for reactions again. She's guessing the first question is going to be an incredulous, 'Who?!' Hopefully that won't be followed by an equally horrified, 'How could you?!' She adds quietly, "If necessary, I am happy to repeat this to Huskarl Magnussen, since he's going to be the one most responsible for keeping the Si'yul safe while the Sith lord is under our protection."

Freyja's father does indeed look rather incredulous as she continues her story, after that first flash of interest. "You arranged for the Sith to come here?" The baron, his expression still rather unreadable, straightens in his seat, fixing Freyja with a look. "You are saying you and your paramours are the ones who invited the Sith here... and more than that, offered to have this Haus take in Ghang Si'yul as Honored Stranger?"

Freyja's face is carefully expressionless, "Hai, Father. Well. I, not they, am responsible for this."

The Baron looks at Freyja for a long moment, then lets out a sharp breath. "Huh! Well. The Chamber has been aflame with conjecture as to why the Sith were coming here. I should have known you had something to do with it when you told us you wished the marriage to take place at what turned out to be the same time as the ceasefire negotiation."

He considers thoughtfully for a moment. "Mmm, I hate to say it but we may have to hire additional security forces for the other territories we hold. I'll want all of our huskarls and armsfolk here for as long as Lord Ghang is present. I'll speak with Magnussen tonight before dinner about those arrangements."

Freyja nods once, silently, remaining calmly still. Inside she's rather startled... and relieved! An absence of explosions is a good thing, definitely. She adds quietly, "It had been my thought to offer my services, and the services of my companions, if necessary as well. Plus Master Roakkana has kindly consented to be the Haus escort to the Si'yul while he is here."

Baron Rigg focuses his attention on Freyja again, leaning forward in his seat. "So. Tell me if I have this right. The Sith Lord is coming here to explain the Sith are attacking this sector in order to capture both the leader of these Jedi extremists, and the person responsible for selling the droids to the Sith. Am I correct?"

Freyja listens to her father's question, considers carefully, then nods once again, "Hai."

Freyja's father nods once. "I'd been hoping that would come out in the negotiations. I was very wroth with the military droid companies for all that they pulled during the months following the revelation the Sith were using war droids of Balmorran make. But that Jedi are involved as well... this could have grave consequences for the Republic way of life."

He studies Freyja for another long moment, apparently considering how to phrase his next question. "Did he tell you who it was?"

Freyja's gaze on her father is as steady as her voice, "Hai. Both of them. But if I tell you... can you hide that you know, Father? At least until the Si'yul makes it public?"

Her father takes in a deep breath, thinking... then takes the rather unprecedented step of looking up at Erde Rigg. After a moment of realizing he's looking at her, she almost imperceptibly shakes her head.

A breath explodes out from the Baron. "Neh, I suppose not," he says, sounding intensely disappointed. Then, reluctantly, "I'd probably send a battalion of armsfolk and battle droids after whomever it was, anyway." Freyja can't resist her lips quirking up despite herself. Her father may infuriate her... but he does try to be honest.

He stands then, clearing his throat a bit gruffly. "I would like a few minutes with my daughter, please." Freyja simply nods once, politely... then looks up, a bit surprised at her father's comment. She nods politely once again, then smiles at Leif and Master Roakkana as they leave. She's very glad they were there.

The others exchange glances, and with an encouraging pat from the Jedi Master, very shortly the two are left alone in the office. Freyja gives a small, courteous, seated nod to her father once the others have left, waiting to see what he needs.

The Baron walks slowly to the front of his desk and leans back against it, arms folded as he looks to Freyja. Quietly he says, "You realize you've taken upon yourself a great deal of responsibility in inviting the Sith Lord here, and extending him Haus hospitality and protection." It is a statement, not a question.

Freyja nods calmly. She doesn't mention the time, thought, and worry about both her Haus and the Sith lord which all went into that decision. It goes without saying.

Rigg makes a quiet grunt and nods. "It is not likely anyone beyond the walls of this manse -- fires of Niflheim, anyone who was not in this room two minutes ago, save but for Lord Ghang himself -- will ever know your role in the arrangement of this ceasefire." He studies Freyja's reaction to that statement, even as he's saying it.

Freyja thinks a bit... then smiles faintly and shakes her head once, "I do not know if that is the case, Father. I don't know who the Si'yul may have told, nor did I think this something which needs concealment. While I've not told anyone aside from those you know of, and my paramours know... it is possible others may come to learn of it." She gives her father a curious glance, "Why do you ask this?"

"I say it because there may be certain parties who might not wish a full disclosure of how this ceasefire came about. I tell you this to warn you, Freyja. If all goes well then others may, subtly or grossly, attempt to claim credit. And if it goes horribly awry, they may do their very best to place all responsibility upon you."

"I know you take your responsibility seriously, and what you are responsible for you will claim willingly enough. But there is only so much the Haus can do against a concerted attack such as that, especially if some of your enemies are Jedi. They must be highly-placed Jedi, and so would have the ear of the Council, who in turn have the ear of the Supreme Chancellor."

He looks mildly pained as he shakes his head. "It is... probably nothing. You and your paramours will probably be safe from any sort of political attack." He makes a wry face. "Though I swear to the Norns, you wouldn't care about a political attack on your own person unless they were claiming you didn't like frehkees."

Freyja gives her father a very dry look... then says very, very gently, "Papa... we are already under attack by this faction of the Jedi." She sighs, hoping her father can understand just how difficult things are currently, "Father, this is why I rushed home, and shall be rushing away just as fast once the Hausa are united... because we are attempting to stay ahead of them. We shall do our duty -- I to my Haus and our kurasai, as much as all of us to the people of the Republic -- but we feel we cannot do this by allowing ourselves to be captured by this sect within the Order."

Freyja adds quietly, "Master Roakkana approves. I would simply turn and face my attackers otherwise."

Freyja adds even more quietly, "I am sure you will hear many terrible things about me very soon, Father. I hope you will be able to maintain faith in me during this time." She says slowly, "But if you cannot... I will understand." She hopes the fact that's a lie doesn't show. She's trying hard to seem completely composed.

He seems reluctant to accept that, though he does finally sigh and nod. "I had thought it was something to that effect -- coming here, completing the marriage, then going off just as quickly. I knew it would perhaps be like this when Master Roakkana came to us, saying you had the potential to be a Jedi."

He looks curiously to Freyja, about to say something, then shakes his head, looking down at his folded arms. "I... suppose there have been times when I have not given you cause to believe the faith I have in you. Your mother has taken ample opportunity to make this known to me since you were last here." He shakes his head ruefully. "I swear to the Norns, my father never warned me about women doing that."

He re-focuses his attention on Freyja. "Do not worry, daughter. You know how stubborn I am; even if you were to stand in the Curia tomorrow and swear you were the incarnation of Xim the Despot, I'd still consider it vicious lies promulgated by that board of asinine directors for Beltain Droid Works."

Freyja blinks, wondering just what her mother has been doing -- and rather startled to hear it! Her mother... standing up to her father, for her!? She covers a small smile at the comment about her grandfather, then can't resist a laugh, "Oh! Neh, Father, I assure you that at least is not true." She grins, "I am not the incarnation of Xim the Despot, to my knowledge."

Freyja rises slowly, regarding her father thoughtfully... then smiles and steps over to him, giving him a short, quiet hug. She steps back, adding sincerely, "Thank you, Father. I can promise you this. I shall always do what I think is right, and I shall never forget we serve the people." She's rather surprised at how well he's taking this... and pleased! Perhaps people do change... she has been. It's feasible her father might too, especially on the eve of war.

Freyja's father looks a little startled at the hug, and returns it a little reluctantly -- not because he doesn't wish to, but more that it's such an unusual gesture for him. He regains something of his composure, smiling a little. "Yes... well, then. I know you will, daughter. Never forget that." He straightens. "So. Tomorrow is your first Curia. Then the next day is the wedding. The Sith are estimated to arrive sometime that day, so at the very least they will be present for the hafla the next day, following the day's negotiations in Mos Thullakhazhan. It will be... quite an interesting hafla, I think."

Freyja grins, "Hai, that it will, I am sure, Father!"

The day of the Curia is both festive and somber. The traditional introduction-by-fire of the future leader of the people is done in the same Convocate Hall that lies on the north side of the Rigg Estate, and in which aristoi of Haus Rigg have been holding Curia for thousands of years.

The hall itself is done in stone, marble, and granite mined from a quarry near Balmorra's earliest Human settlement. The chamber is circular, or more specifically sixteen-sided -- one side for each of the fourteen First Justicars Jehan Rigg appointed for the Human colony. One more wall holds the crest of Haus Rigg, and opposite the crest is the wall with the main doors. Beneath the crest is a pair of seats set on a raised dais; traditionally, the hereditary Rigg sits on the left-hand one.

On each of the fourteen walls is a small, age-worn statue. Also, continuing from one wall to the next in its entirety, the full text of the Aikya Balmorra in ancient Alderaanian calligraphy is visible -- the charter which established the first code of laws for Humans on Balmorra, allowing them to live in relative peace with their neighbors and themselves.

A reminder of what happens when such laws break down rests above the main door, in view of the dais beneath the Rigg crest: the broken plastron and helmet of MacNiel-of-the-Seas, which that one surrendered to Jehan Rigg's daughter following the brief, abortive civil war which took place not long after Jehan Rigg died.

The Convocate Hall is actually two levels; the lowest is reserved for plaintiffs and courtiers, while the second level, commanding a view of the entire proceedings, is the public gallery. Overhead is a large, gold onion dome, which glows faintly with indirect lights. A calligraphic design (which no person or droid or computer has ever been able to divine any meaning to) is inscribed along the base of the dome.

A few very alert droids are nested in niches along the gallery's circumference to nip any trouble in the bud. Armsfolk and huskarls are at each corner of the room, bearing pikes with the Rigg banner.

Just before the ceremonial Curia starts, Freyja is in a room off to the side and outside the doors, with her father, mother, Leif, Master Roakkana, Vakkal, her parents' huskarls, and a few officials. Zero and Fhazil are in the mezzanine.

Freyja sighs quietly, smiling faintly to herself and gently smoothing down the heavy ceremonial robes. At least they're not the baronial robes -- those are even heavier... she muses to herself, then looks to Leif with a touch of concerned inquiry, "How are you feeling, Le- er, Fafnir? Ready?"

By tradition, Baron Rigg is wearing the baronial robes, and they are indeed heavier, flared at the hips and made of nothing less than several layers of breathable but heavy wool. But he will also not be in the hall himself, also by tradition. This is a time for the next generation of Riggs to be leading.

Freyja wonders what her parents are thinking right now... are they worried about how she'll be seen by their kurasai? By Leif? An interesting question all around, really... she'd love to know how the kurasai see her. She's entrusting them to Leif, and while she has faith in his wisdom, she hopes the kurasai don't feel her trust is misplaced.

Still, this is going to be his chance to shine for them. As she'd mentioned to him yesterday, she intends to converse quietly with him on each question -- so everyone sees she does indeed have great faith in his opinions. She touches her paramours' minds lightly, Heiyo! Is there a crowd? How do people's demeanors seem?

Fafnir smiles, albeit a little nervously. "As ready as I can be."

Roakkana makes a quiet rumbling sound, knowing none can translate Shyriiwook here. "Freyja, not that there is a need to remind you, but just one thing if I may...."

Freyja smiles reassuringly at Fafnir, resting a hand lightly on his arm, "You'll do fine. Truly." Her tone is completely calm and assured, even as she replies softly in Roakkana's mind, Hai, Master?

Roakkana smiles warmly. "With respect, Freyja... avoid consulting your paramours for their opinions on issues during this. The people are expecting you and Leif to be making decisions and judgments today. While I am sure they would be more than happy to help you in this, they will have their own trials of self-realization they will have to go through -- though I'm sure you will now tell me I should be ashamed for even thinking you would ask them!"

Freyja grins at Roakkana, then carefully reaches up (so as to not put the heavy robes into disarray) and hugs him, Do not worry, please, Master. I know quite well Leif must have the confidence of the people in order to most effectively lead them... and I won't do anything to undermine that. He needs my help in this. I'll give it as best I can -- because he's been kind enough to give me his help, in assuring I can follow the will of the Force.

Zero's mind echoes back, Well, lover, either there's one hell of a question-and-answer session about to happen, or there's an unarmed revolt going on out here. There's a crowd. And how. Everyone seems curious to see who's in charge now.

Freyja's soft giggle answers Zero. She knows the kurasai are often enthusiastically louder and more graphic in their responses than aristoi, but it's still a funny metaphor to her!

Freyja gives the properly respectful salute to her parents, then asks in the traditional manner for their blessings on her and her betrothed, as they go forth to begin their sharing in the weight of the mantle of responsibility for their people. The words are, oddly, reassuringly ritualized, and flow easily from her. So that's what ritual's best for -- making things easy when times are difficult. Makes sense, now that I think about it...

Zero adds, And to keep you from forgetting and looking silly in front of this raging mob.

Freyja laughs again internally, her pale blue eyes bright as she externally smiles calmly. She gives Leif a faintly inquiring look, offering him her arm if he'd like, to walk in?

One of the advisors chimes out, "It is time, my Lord Baron." There is a nod and words of encouragement and blessings to Freyja and Leif from her parents. Leif smiles and nods also, taking Freyja's arm, and they are ushered from the room and through the doors to the Convocate Hall, trailed neatly by the councilors and huskarls.

For this Vakkal and Leif's huskarl, a burly Trandoshan, have been equipped with capacitance shields, which they've been trained to set up and deploy in front of their charges at a moment's notice with only a minimal chance of singeing something important. If one stands too close to the devices, even while they're deactivated, there is a tiny ultrasonic whistle from their capacitors that could set the teeth on edge.

Vakkal doesn't seem to be affected too much by it. In fact, he amusedly mentally notes the narrowpass filter earplugs which filter out that specific frequency, before returning to an almost scary state of alertness and wariness towards just about everyone in the hall.

As the Arving couple enters the hall, there is a faint stir of interest -- clearly, Freyja's appearance is quite distinct. The faint whir of holocams taking images fills the mezzanine. Zero can see the security droids looking significantly more alert, but none seem to be leaping for anyone pointing anything more harmful than a holocam at Freyja and Leif.

For his part, Zero has quite the most excellent view of the entire chambers, having a position at about the three-o'clock position when one is facing the crest. Fhazil is nearby, managing to remain close despite the crowding of the kurasai around them. Obviously, the mezzanine of the Convocate Hall doesn't see nearly as much use as it does on days of these sorts of Curia.

All the kurasai are in their best, though that ranges from the best an autumlas herder might wear, to the best a senior manager or non-aristoi investor might wear. Thus there is a great variety of cuts of cloth, and quality, pressing in on Zero from all sides. All of it, though, is in some way distinctly Balmorran Human.

The chamberpater clears his throat after a respectful few moments following Freyja and Leif settling comfortably upon the cushions at the dais. "The first issue that is brought before you this day, my Arving Lady, is a property dispute. Kuras Allan FitzDonal of the Theresa Reach Hills claims a spring rests on his property, while Kuras Mahatmas Antilles claims the spring is on his property because he developed it into a viable well. Geodetic maps have shown the center point of the well is on the property line between the two kurasai, and deep geological sensors leave indeterminate under whose property the most volume of the spring is."

Allan FitzDonal is typical Northern Balmorran, stocky and a bit dark in hair and skin, though he seems mostly well tanned. His clothing is that of an autumlas herdsman. Mahatmas Antilles is more typically Southern Balmorran, with golden-blonde hair and regal features, though the faint weathering of his countenance marks him as either another herdsman or one of the few agro-farmers in Rigg territory.

While this is going on the crowd moves and shuffles around Zero. They are clearly interested in the results of this question; perhaps it's some sort of trial or exam. It's as if most of the people, the two Kurasai in question included, see this more as a test case than as an issue of major import, to see how Freyja and Leif will react.

The crowd moves a bit more, almost uncomfortably. When it settles again, though, from beside him someone murmurs to him, "I heard someone say the two kurasai wanted to wait until this particular Curia, to see how the Arving Lady and Lord would judge their issue."

Zero's voice murmurs gently, As I'm sure you can guess, lover mine, these two are testing you. They put this off just for you to hear.

The voice pauses, then says in a wry, interested tone to Zero, "So, any insight into how the Arving Lady will judge this? Not that there's any sort of betting pool going on, mind you. You are one of her paramours, after all, so you know her perhaps even better than her own family."

Zero replies softly, "She'll do what she always does, hei soi. She'll do what she thinks is best for them."

The voice gives a soft laugh. "A tactful answer. Of course she will." The voice makes no further comment to Zero.

Freyja thinks for a moment, studying the two men involved in the case and giving Leif time to do so also. Softly she murmurs to Zero, 'Tis traditional to do so, love. Her mental tone is quietly amused... she's guessing one or either of the two men have issues with her father. Considering she does also, she can't really blame them for waiting for her judgment instead. She leans slightly to murmur quietly to Leif, "Do you know either of them? Any thoughts on this disposition?"

Leif makes a quiet sound, leaning over closer into the white-noise field. "It seems a trivial matter. They're both fairly large landholders. The last I checked the Theresa Reach Hills were not wanting for water or anything. Ownership by way of development is a precedent set in some Balmorran courts, and Kuras Antilles would not have developed that spring into a well if he did not think he could claim it. By the same token, Kuras FitzDonal might have been intending to develop that spring for some time before Kuras Antilles decided to."

He adds, wryly, "By all rights, considering the size of their lands, they should have settled this in the regional justicar's office, not at Curia. As first cases go, though, it's got all the elements to start putting together a picture of both you and I: whether we'll favor Southern or Northern Balmorrans, whether we'll follow the precedent of ownership by development or not, or any of a dozen other things we aren't immediately seeing."

Freyja nods thoughtfully to Leif, then adds, "Ask Kuras FitzDonal why he'd not developed the spring, would you, please?" As she murmurs to Leif, she lets her awareness of human behavior wash through her, watching to see how the two men react. She's studying them as interestedly as they study her and Leif.

Leif asks, and FitzDonal replies that he wished to leave the spring untouched by development until they really needed it -- if ever, really, since water is one thing Balmorra is not lacking. Freyja murmurs in quiet interest, "Hai, 'tis so. Kuras Antilles, what made you choose to develop the spring?"

Antilles' response is he is rotating the grounds his herds graze on, to keep the lands from being overgrazed, and that next season he will be bringing his herds in that region -- on his side of the property line, of course -- and needed a ready supply of water. Freyja gets a sense of calmness from the two men. They aren't at all emotional about this case. Rather, it seems it is indeed being used as a test case of the two Arvings themselves. She senses both men are being quite truthful also.

Freyja mms thoughtfully, then murmurs in a quiet aside to Leif, "So neither of them really need it, it doesn't clearly belong to either, and it's mostly a difference of opinion as to when development should occur. Any further refining thoughts?"

Leif nods. "That about sums it, I think. Of course it's too late to undevelop it, since tearing it down and reseating the local ecosystem would incur additional cost."

With thoughtful curiosity Freyja adds to Kuras Antilles, "Is that spring the only source of water for that region, for your herds?" Antilles replies that short of water pipes and pumps it is indeed the only source of water in that region. FitzDonal confirms this, noting that was why he was loath to bring his herds to that particular acreage.

Freyja nods at Leif's assessment, murmuring, "Plus it'd be a slap in the face for anyone considering useful property development." She nods again at the reply the two men give her, then asks, "And would it have been possible, Kuras Antilles, to pasture your herds elsewhere without damage to your fields?"

Antilles notes, with just the right hint of reluctance in his voice, that with some shuffling of his rotation schedules he could figure out some way to keep his herds from grazing in that region without too much damage from overgrazing taking place.

Freyja smiles slowly, watching. Then she turns to Kuras FitzDonal and says, "Did Kuras Antilles come to you with a request that you develop the spring together?"

"He did not."

Freyja looks thoughtfully at the other kurasai, "Why is that, please?"

The person who had the voice beside Zero leans on the railing with interest a bit at that. Zero watches the watcher surreptitiously. He knows it's likely just paranoid of him... but then again, paranoia's kept him alive this far...

The person who's been speaking with Zero is about his height, slender and light of frame, with a slightly athletic build. She has the kind of red hair that is often called 'beaten copper,' compared to Freyja's fiery gold. Her skin is clear and has a little color, placing her most likely as Northern Balmorran.

Her clothing, however, is clearly affluent -- a long coat and narrow-cut leggings of black glittersilk trimmed with ermine that is to Zero what aristoi would wear in this cold season of Balmorra. Zero hmms softly. Interesting.

Kuras Antilles notes in his defense he thought the spring was on his territory -- again, this comes out as truthful enough, though it's probably more accurate to say he means he was reasonably sure it was more on his territory than FitzDonal's.

A brief review of the paperwork is in order. The issue of who actually owns the spring has never been settled, since it never came up. It's one of those features that probably developed several decades ago, after the last general planetary survey. According to the submitted documents FitzDonal's been trying to budget for development for it for the past decade. Antilles has paperwork showing he did his own survey of the region a year ago which discovered the spring and suggested it be developed, which matches with his plans to start grazing autumlas in that region.

Freyja leans to murmur to Leif again, "So... they both believed they owned it, and Antilles managed to develop it first, hai?"

Leif nods. "Yes, though arguably FitzDonal had wavering intentions to develop it. He may have indeed preferred to keep it undeveloped."

Freyja says, "Hai... and I have serious objections to a law regarding development rendering ownership, since it so obviously benefits the moneyed. So... I'm thinking let's have them share it, including cost of maintenance. Do you have any objections to that? Are they the types to be able to work smoothly together, do you think?"

Freyja grins at a sudden thought, then whispers to Leif, "Would suggesting they might consider marrying their offspring together be untoward, do you think?"

Leif grins. "Spoken well. I think they won't mind sharing it at all, considering they came into this apparently more out of curiosity than any serious concern about who owns the well." His grin widens. "While humorous, I don't think we should suggest that. Not for a well, at any rate. If it was for a pasture or large amount of territory, though, it might not be too forward a suggestion."

The girl listens to the discussions between the parties interestedly, with rapt attention in her dark hazel eyes. As Freyja and Leif lean in towards each other, their words being masked by the white-noise field, she taps a delicate gloved finger thoughtfully against her chin.

Freyja covers a grin with one slender golden hand, her eyes sparkling at Leif, but simply nods in agreement. "All right. So, shall you announce this one, or shall I? It's my thought to trade off announcing, hai?"

Leif nods, smiling. "A good idea. You first seems appropriate, then, since you are the actual inheritor by blood."

Freyja nods to Leif, still smiling, then straightens and faces the audience. Her voice carries, strong and sure. "Herein are the facts of the case as presented before us. The Kurasai FitzDonal and Antilles both believed in good faith they owned the spring in question. The Kuras FitzDonal had some thought towards developing the spring, but the Kuras Antilles was the one who first developed it."

Freyja takes a slow breath, giving herself a moment to study the crowd's reaction as she organizes her thoughts for the next statement. The entire assembly seems to be silent, watching Freyja raptly and attentively and curiously. A faint tension hangs in the air.

Freyja continues calmly, "To resolve the spring's ownership, they have appeared in this Curia before ourselves, the Arving lady Freyja Rigg and the Arving Lord Fafnir Jotunsen. These are our thoughts on the matter." She pauses, looking at the Kuras FitzDonal, "You thought about developing the spring, but never got around to doing so. This could be due either to a need for more creds to do so, or a sincere belief the spring was better off undeveloped." She turns to the Kuras Antilles, "You not only thought about developing the spring -- you actually did so."

Freyja looks back to the audience in general, "One might ordinarily believe improvement or development of a resource would demonstrate ability to best care for it. This would be a good precedent to have. However, it is also possible for an undesired side effect to occur," she waves a graceful hand to indicate both the kurasai before her, and politely adds, "-which, fortunately, is not a worry here. This unpleasant side effect would be to create a precedent in law which directly benefits the moneyed over the less fortunate."

Freyja continues clearly, "This... would be a great injustice."

She takes another breath, then continues, "This is our adjucation on this matter, then. The spring is a useful resource for both these men and their families. It is almost precisely midway between their lands. Therefore, let them both share in it still, as they have unwittingly done to the point of development. They shall share in its benefits, and in the cost of its maintenance. So say we, on this 14th day of Sigil, in this year of the Republic."

Freyja takes another breath and smiles at Leif. Her demeanor is reserved and dignified. Inside, however, she whispers to her lovers, Hope that came out all right -- I've got the most terrible case of internal butterflies!

Zero shakes his head. You're fine, Freyja... I don't think anyone here's ready to gainsay you.

Freyja chuckles internally, Thanks, sweetheart.

The two men bow to the dais, formally accepting judgment and apparently equally pleased, and judging by the respectful murmurs of conversation and approval that goes through the hall, Freyja passed the first test. There is a brief, polite smattering of applause from some of the kurasai and, probably without very much in the way of subtlety, the exchange of cred-notes in the settling of a few small wagers. Overall, the wash of emotion that Freyja gets from the crowd is one of approval at her decision. Most Balmorran kurasai like nothing more than to keep things equitable.

The girl beside Zero gives a smile at the judgment and murmurs something to herself. Zero barely hears it through the din the kurasai make around him -- in the mezzanine, it's almost a deafening rumble. He thinks, though, she murmurs, "What a long way you've come..."

Then those hazel eyes turn to Zero, and with the faintest Balmorran brogue tingeing her voice she says, "Forgive me, Kuras Satau. I didn't introduce myself earlier. Deirdre Leottsen."

Zero gives his small open-handed bow. "Sah. And you seem to know me; no introductions necessary, then. You seem to have a great interest in the new Arving couple."

Deirdre smiles and bows in return. "I did do a little reading when I heard the Arving Lady was returning for her wedding." She glances down into the hall. "The Arving Lady Freyja and I had... met, briefly, many years ago."

Zero says, "I'm inclined to guess more than briefly, hei soi. Or did you mean 'how far you've come' in a purely metaphorical sense?"

Deirdre smiles a bit. "Oh, you heard? Hai, it was a bit more than briefly, though I doubt she will remember a kurasai such as myself. Though I also meant it metaphorically." She looks out again into the hall. "She's... changed. Quite a great deal."

Zero says, "That she has. And I wouldn't be so sure she's forgotten you. The new Lady has a long memory for her people."

Freyja gives Leif a small grin as they both notice the exchange of creds. She whispers to him, "First one down... goddess knows how many to go! Hopefully they'll all be as nice as this one."

Leif grins softly. "I peeked. Seventeen, but they're mostly small-claims, and I imagine one or two will withdraw in preference to being judged by your father next week. Not everyone wants an equitable judge, for whatever reason. Not everyone wants to entrust a case to judges whom they know little about. And some, I imagine, are intrigued by the idea of a Jedi judge."

Freyja has to cover a small, mischievous grin at Leif's assessment regarding equitableness. Instead she simply murmurs, "They're likely to be disappointed if they're expecting any flash or dramatics, then, I fear." She considers for a moment, then adds a little sternly, "Unless they're going to try doing something stupid like lying outright. Then they're just going to find out Jedi judges may be able to spot it easier, but dislike it just as much as regular judges."

Leif chuckles softly. "Of that, Lady, I have neh doubt. Though for most of the cases we shall hear today, I think the kurasai will like the idea of a Jedi judge."

The Curia continues without any major incident. Nobody attempts to lie to the two, and two of the cases do withdraw -- both were fairly prickly, the kind that Freyja's father would refer to a special investigator skilled in poring over financial records. Leif, on his own initiative, suggests getting a head start on those cases.

The Baron Rigg is incensed enough that anyone would withdraw their case on the day of the ceremonial Curia, expressing either distrust or dislike of the judgment of his heirs, that he is quite seriously considering letting Freyja and Leif decide them no matter when they come up before him in the Curia. The Baron Rigg does not show affection for his family often, and when he does, it is in somewhat odd ways.

Freyja smiles quietly at her father's incensed manner, and politely suggests for the nonce they allow the investigators to gather as much as they can. She and Leif will be happy to aid her father in rendering decision later, if he'd like. Freyja will quietly thank Leif, once they're out of sight of the audience, for being so helpful. She hopes she was helpful enough for him also?

Leif smiles, running a finger along his collar a bit uncomfortably -- that was a long time to wear a formal suit. "You're welcome, Freyja. You certainly were. That went much, much better than I could have possibly hoped. I'm glad nobody tried to stick us with a falsified case."

Freyja smiles a bit grimly, "That would have been inordinately foolish of them. Jedi are renown for detecting falsehood. I just wish there were some way for me to be able to help you with that later, when I'm not present... because I fear they may try testing you alone that way, at some point."

Leif smiles. "It's been my experience that a lie can only be held for so long. You always get caught in the end of one. And there's nothing that says we have to let a judgment based off of false information stand, and everything says we can be creative in our punishment for lying before the crest. Though I admit... it would be incontrovertibly helpful if you could be here all the time to see through such falsehoods."

Freyja nods thoughtfully, "Hai, you're quite right there, Leif, regarding discovery of deception." She smiles a little ruefully, "Thank you. It's a relief to know you're here for the people. And you're right -- you'll handle everything fine. I shouldn't worry." She smiles, hugs him gently, then steps back and waves before heading for her suite, "See you at dinner!"

The formal dinner that evening is set up in much the same way as Freyja and Zero remember it from their last time on Balmorra. The group has a few hours to prepare for it before the guests who are not already staying at the manse arrive.

Freyja will soak as long as she dares without making herself late for dinner, letting the steaming water ease her tensions away and sighing in pleasure. After that she dresses -- or, really, mostly is dressed by cheerfully assiduous helpers who all want to congratulate her and chat about the Curia -- then wanders off to see how Fhazil is doing. She's guessing Piper will take care of Zero!

Lacking anything formal suitable for Balmorra, and remembering they can cheerfully get any guest into Balmorran formal wear, Fhazil is of mixed emotions to find a stringently formal dove-grey and gold & thread-of-ebon embroidery suit waiting for him.

Freyja peeks in, then grins, swaying into the room, "Haiyo, Fhaziza -- you look sharp!" She adds mischievously, "Almost good enough to eat!" and giggles, giving him a quick hug.

Fhazil laughs quietly, albeit weakly, embracing Freyja. He's managed to get himself into the long coat without too much problem, a helper assisting him with the more arcane fittings. "Don't tell me that's part of this dinner, too? I've ratcheted up my respect for Balmorrans even more. If you can wear this even remotely routinely you're of sterner stuff than even a Corellian pirate."

Freyja is herself attired in Balmorran formalwear also, although she wears it quite differently than the last time she was here. Tall and elegant, her careful walk reveals a poise and fluidity that could melt an iceberg. Sparkling golden coins swing simultaneously, mesmerizing as the silken fringe on the richly ornamented sash accentuating the gentle sway of her supple hips.

Jeweled, belled bracelets jingle softly on Freyja's slender wrists and ankles, while swirling henna patterns are painted on her feet and hands, highlighted by glittering, delicate gold toe- and finger-rings. Intricately wrought jewelry rivals the sumptuous, glossy embroidery on her long, shimmering, silk outer coat and trousers.

Freyja's put aside the usual turban, however, in favor of just pinning up her fiery golden hair with opulent golden hairpieces. Sweet-scented garlands of brilliant, beautiful blooms swirl in iridescent loops over her strong, slender shoulders. The makeup on her high-boned face richly defines her gleaming lips and luminously outlines her serene, ice blue eyes.

Freyja leans back in Fhazil's arms enough to see his face, her arms still about his neck, and smiles with quietly joyous warmth at him -- she meant what she said about thinking him quite sharp looking just now! "Sweetheart, it's just a costume, truly. Don't worry about it, and it'll cease to concern you, I've found. Just be sure to step wide of low tables, give yourself plenty of cloth swirl room, and roll up your sleeves when anyplace where the decorative fringes might catch... and there's nothing else to worry about, really."

She grins a little mischievously at him, "You'll be the envy of many there already, after all -- you're one of my beloved Family of the Heart!" She looks down at her chest, then carefully selects one of the sweet-scented loops of flowers, "Here, lover... wear this." She settles it around his neck carefully, happily adding, "All the Balmorrans will know you're special now. White and red chrysanthemums -- the colors for unity, and the flowers for truthfulness and love!"

Freyja cheerfully adds, "Besides, didn't you routinely best Corellian pirates, my dear?"

"Well, maybe so," Fhazil says, chuckling. "But still..." Jokingly he adds, "Say, you are Freyja in there, aren't you?" then grins ruefully. "Sorry. This is... a lot more than I ever pictured anyone wearing, even formally. But you do manage to make it look very good." He grins again, more sincerely this time, "Is it untoward of me to say I prefer seeing you in something like what you wore at Zhar?"

Fhazil is still getting used to how Freyja looks in her opulent finery. He recognized her immediately at first, because of the bond through the triat, but it threw him for a few moments to see Freyja transformed into almost a completely different person. At the wreath he blinks for a bit, then smiles. "Thank you. I will wear it proudly."

Freyja laughs softly, gently poking Fhazil, "Hai, it's me, you great silly!" She tilts her head thoughtfully, causing several dangling jeweled pins in her hair to twinkle and spiral, and gently pokes him again. "Um... Fhazil? What're you wearing under that jacket? It looks like normal muslin-linen and embroidery... but it feels a bit... firmer? Stiffer?"

Fhazil blinks, feeling the jacket a bit. "Huh? I thought all Balmorran formal jackets were this stiff. I mean, Leif looked like he could sit ramrod-straight in the Curia for all week if need be. I thought it was because of the jackets when I tried this on."

Freyja chuckles quietly, replying to his previous question, "Neh, not untoward. To be honest, I prefer light shifts or athletic clothing whenever possible, too. But... that's not proper here, and... well, this is a 'doing my duty' stopover, so it seemed incumbent upon me to make it as easy as possible on the poor folks who have to get me dressed and made up." A little embarrassedly she adds, "I, um, certainly hadn't made it easier on them over the years..."

Her voice trails off as she blinks, then thoughtfully regards Fhazil's long-coat, "Hm... well, take it off and let's have a look at it, hai?" Fhazil and Freyja get the long coat off of him. All in all, it appears to be a normal coat, but to Freyja the chest area does seem to be stiff, to the point of immobility -- like it were a thin carballoy plastron and some kind of flexible mesh beneath the layers.

A minute or two later there is a knock on the door. Freyja murmurs absently, "Enter!" as she regards the coat with puzzlement. She adds to Fhazil, "This, now... feel mine. See? Yours is much more solid feeling. Did someone give you this coat?"

The door opens and one of the huskarls enters, a waify human male whom Freyja has known for many years in service to Haus Rigg. "Ah -- my Lady, Kuras Taas." He bows politely. "Huskarl Magnussen asked me to ensure Kuras Taas' coat is fitten properly."

Freyja says, "Oh." She regards it thoughtfully, then looks back at the man, "Is it armored, then?" She remembers the man. His specialty is armory, not close combat. It would make sense to send him to make sure the new paramour was taken care of.

He nods, gently taking up the coat and straightening it somewhat. "Hai. Your father had a concern regarding Kuras Taas' past affiliations, in that some would not take his presence here lightly. Huskarl Magnussen assured the Baron he would see to Kuras Taas' safety. While we are not expecting trouble, better to not invite it, hai?"

In short order he has the coat on Fhazil, making small, discrete adjustments to whatever is underneath. He steps back, looking at the coat with a practiced eye. "I cannot promise it will completely stop a blaster, Kuras Taas, but I promise you should anything short of a concussion missile happen you will survive long enough to be put into the manse bacta tanks."

Fhazil seems more than a bit stunned by this, and can only murmur polite, heartfelt thanks to the huskarl. Freyja nods thoughtfully, her arms folded as she watches. "Thank you, huskarl. Could you please also give my sincere thanks to the head Huskarl Magnussen also?" She adds to Fhazil, I'm carrying Kourakani, concealed. You should certainly feel free to do the same.

The huskarl bows. "Hai, I will, my Lady. Please enjoy the evening."

After the huskarl leaves, Fhazil murmurs, "Enjoy the evening?' After he's strapped me into body armor?" He sighs. "At least I won't have to worry about slouching. 'When life hands you a bantha, make blue milk.' Or whatever the heck they say out on the Outer Rim."

Freyja smiles and offers her arm to Fhazil once the huskarl has departed, "Well, now... shall we go find Zero and head off for dinner?" then giggles cheerfully at Fhazil's comment.

In his room, Zero finds his black Balmorran long coat laid out and pressed neatly -- and this time no towels 'mysteriously' disappeared on him. He hms, toweling himself off. He's almost disappointed.

A minute after he steps from the shower, the door to his apartment quickly and quietly opens, and for a brief moment Piper is sneaking in -- and then after a wide-eyed look, she's half-snuck-out again. "Och, knew you were goin' tae be tae fast f'r me this time!" she says, laughing. "Blast, a wee bit tae late. An' 'ow ha' ye been, Zero?"

Zero smirks and folds his arms. "I'm keeping soul and clay together for the time being. What about you?"

Piper chuckles quietly, leaning against the doorway. "Oh, ye know. Th' usual. I'm actually considerin' a stint at th' sector university f'r advanced flight trainin'. Pa says it'd be right helpful. Most o' th' students there are Academy 'opefuls and Guard flyers goin' for refreshers in civilian craft. It'd mean bein' away for a while, though."

Zero grins and pulls on his pants. "Well, helpful aside, what do you want to do?"

Piper is quiet for a moment, not quite looking -- nor not quite not-looking -- at Zero as he dresses. "I'm nary certain," she says a bit wistfully. "I'm nae one f'r th' naval life, ye kin? I'm 'appy bein' a retainer f'r Haus Rigg. I mean, where else do I git tae fly this much? I'm 'earin' there's this big to-do wi' sendin' a delegation tae Coruscant, seein' as how th' Senator's gone missin'. Big 'nough they're thinkin' o' investin' in somethin' a wee bit larger than th' couriers in th' livery. Pa thinks I got a shot at bein' lead pilot f'r somethin' like thot, but..."

She shakes her head and smiles. "Ah, well. We'll be seein' in time. Does this -- you bein' 'ere as Freyja's paramour, an' th' weddin' -- mean thot ye're goin' tae be stayin'?

Zero mmms and nods, "I think I can understand that. Not much excitement in being a Palace Guard for the government buildings back home, either. As for staying? Well... likely not. I'm afraid we've got ourselves tied up in some ugly politics since we left. We'll likely be headed Coreward again at least once more... I'm not really sure."

Piper seems surprised, like she hadn't expected that answer. "Aye? Well... I c'n say wi' sure tongue thot if'n ye be needin' any air support, ye c'n be certain I'll be more th'n willin' tae lend a hand."

Zero smiles and brushes his hair back from his face. "I appreciate that."

Piper, seeming much more animated and cheerful, smiles and nods. "Th' least I c'n do. 'T'would be crim'n'l tae nae do whot I c'n." She glances at the clock. "Oh! 'Ere, now, th' gatherin's aboot tae be startin'."

She pauses, then before Zero can react she's given him a quick peck on the cheek. "Be seein' ye later, Zero," she says, grinning. "An ye may be a wee bit surprised. Ye caused a wee bit o' a stir th' last time ye were 'ere!" Wi' this an' nothin' -- that is, With this and nothing more, she slips out again, letting the door close behind her.

Zero says, "A stir?" He mutters to the empty room, "I wasn't that drunk..."

Freyja brightens, waving as she spots Zero just leaving his room, "Zero! Haiyo, ready for dinner?" She's in her usual formal Balmorran finery, although Zero can tell a distinct difference in her demeanor this time. She seems to be in good graces, instead of the mind-numbed boredom of last time.

Zero smiles and nods, "I thought that must be you coming. I could hear you a kilometer away in that. You look lovely as usual."

Freyja laughs softly, then shrugs slightly, causing several wreaths to shift distractingly, "It isn't the most, um... discreet of outfits, true. Still, it's my private suspicion the kurasai somehow enjoy seeing all the aristoi." A little curiously she adds, "I wonder if they envy us, and would swap with us, given the option?"

Zero grins lopsidedly, "Maybe they just do you up like that so you can't escape."

Fhazil says wryly, "Maybe the ones who see the opulence and power. But I bet not after they wear this after a day or so..."

Freyja snorts amusedly, then leans to give Zero a gentle kiss on the cheek, "You look lovely too, sweetheart. You should let Piper or me select a proper Balmorran outfit for you." She gently pokes him in the side, with a thoughtful expression. "Hm... guess they're assuming you don't need armor then."

Zero smiles, "Piper said something about my causing a stir last time."

Freyja takes a moment to carefully lay a wreath around Zero's neck too. The scarlet and ivory blooms look rather nice against the black long coat, and Freyja happily admires the effect as she murmurs, "Really? Hmm... wonder why she said that?" She looks up suddenly, a worried expression on her face, and lowers her voice, "Er... oh, dear. Let's hope Syffie's not taken a shine to you!"

Zero actually turns paler. "Don't even joke about that."

Freyja giggles in spite of herself, hugging him delightedly, "You're wonderful, you know that?" She grins, happily looping her arms through theirs, "Let's off and away to dine, hai?"

Zero mms. "That's a fine idea. For all the formality, they never seem to let you go away hungry here."

Freyja chuckles quietly, "Hai, that's true. It's part of being a good and responsible host!"

The hour of formal greeting and mingling begins with the guests staying at the manse being formally invited from the guest wing to the reception hall. Syf, who just arrived a few hours before, is absolutely ecstatic to see Freyja and Zero again. Fhazil seems, upon introduction to her, to be very glad for the body armor beneath his long coat.

They meet Roakkana just as the furor over Syf's whirlwind round of greetings dies down. "Well, you all seem to be handling the formality somewhat better this time," he jokes cheerfully.

Zero mms, Well, being sober this time helps.

Freyja giggles internally at Zero, then grins a bit wearily at Master Roakkana, "Knowing there's an end means most anything is bearable, Master." She selects another wreath from about her shoulders, standing on tiptoes to put it around the Wookiee's broad shoulders, "Is this all right, Master Roakkana? It's lily-of-the-valley and larkspur. I thought the colors would look nice against your fur..." She smiles a little shyly at him, adding softly, "And... I thought it appropriate to thank you for return of happiness and laughter."

Roakkana bends his head down so Freyja can place the wreath, smiling to her. "Thank you, child. I'm honored. I do hope tonight and all future nights are filled with happiness and laughter -- they will not all be, this I sadly know, but you will make up for those nights, I am sure."

Freyja hugs him gently, "It is I who is honored, Master, at your kindness and patience all these years." She smiles a little shakily -- she knows quite well he's going to be right about the difficult times -- and adds quietly, "And it is joyful memory which makes the dark times a little lighter. You taught me that."

Roakkana chuckles softly. "Darkness defines the light, and light, the darkness."

Freyja grins in spite of herself, glancing over her shoulder at her paramours, "There is that, hai!"

Once again, the majordomo seems to be on top of things, and none make too grand an entrance. The guests staying at the manse seem mostly to be ones from the moon, Leif's family and senior retainers here to see the formal unification of the two houses. Brunhild van der Buus is not present. Rumor has it the Ebon Raptor is part of the search for what happened to Senator Kalatis' ship. They are welcomed as family.

The first guest -- surprisingly, he is early -- is Count Mis Thullalkhazan. He is in attendance with his charge d'affaires, Lord Geidra Kul, and a Mandalorian in brown-trimmed armor who disappears shortly after arriving to wherever visiting bodyguards and huskarls go.

After a moment he is followed by Kuras Dougan Kiel. This is an oddly named Trandoshan who is one of the lesser but more experienced middle managers in Cyteller Automaton, who is unfailingly polite to the Riggs and quite vocal in his pleasure at being invited. The highest and the least -- and after that the guests begin to come in a steady trickle.

Freyja mingles and pleasantly welcomes guests, making mental notes as she does so. She's quite interested in finding a moment alone with the Mandalorian, although she's not sure that will be discreetly possible. Maybe Zero or Fhazil might be able to pull that off, though? She'll have to talk to them and see.

Freyja idly muses on how different it is for her to be determined to enjoy herself at one of these formal affairs. It doesn't make things wonderful, true... but it's a bit more bearable, she finds. She isn't surprised at her paramours quietly sliding to the side -- it can be a bit annoying and/or overwhelming the first few times around. She casually searches for Leif... she'd like to be sure he's all right too.

Freyja perhaps notices it first. Certainly Zero and Fhazil aren't that familiar with Balmorran dress but soon enough Zero starts to spot it: the cuts of the men's long coats are a little less pronounced, the embroidery somewhat subdued and less outrageous. There's still clear colorfulness -- pastels, cloth-of-gold, and many, many flowers, perhaps even more flowers than the last time they were on Balmorra -- but it seems the slightly somber, moderately subdued look is in, in no small part due to the last person who graced the halls of Rigg wearing such a style.

Freyja huhs quietly to herself. Pity... she wishes Zero'd wear more color, herself. Still, neh accounting for fashion.

Zero tries not to choke when the realization dawns on him. Gods below, what have I done?

Freyja smiles quietly to herself at the light flare of shock from Zero, It's all right, sweetheart. She grins, teasing him gently to get him to cheer up a bit, At least now you know you don't have to worry about Syffie, hai?

Zero straightens his own coat a little. I don't think I'm ready to be a fashion plate.

Freyja chuckles quietly, Who is, love? Just be yourself... that's the person I love. She smiles softly to herself, her eyes aglow for just a moment, sharing and enjoying the small purr of joy inside she gets when considering her beloveds.

Freyja finds Leif readily. He seems to be doing well enough, though of course formal occasions for him are a curious mixture of 'history in the making' and 'unutterable drudgery.' She grins companionably at him, between greetings, giving him a gentle, one-armed hug and whispering, "How're you holding out?"

Leif smiles wanly. "I've... been better, thank you. But this should be tolerable. It's not all bad if I set my mind to dealing with it." He smiles. "And how are you holding up?"

Freyja sings quietly to herself and her mind-linked friends when a slow, almost melancholic piece of music she particularly likes starts up in the great hall,
"In the distance day was dawning
Comes to me the early morning
Something tells me that I'm going home...
The brand new sun shines bright,
From the darkness fields of light
I just can't believe I'm going home..."

She pauses, then sighs quietly, peacefully, her eyes bright with memory, "I... am having an odd time, actually. I've always believed home would be where my heart was, and see over there?" She nods towards Zero and Fhazil, standing with wary alertness over by a wall, "There's where my heart is."

She looks back at Leif, her ice-blue eyes turning almost silvery blue in contrast to the dark henna about her eyes, "And yet... I find there's a little of me here also." Her smile is bemusedly rueful, "Who would have thought it?"

Leif smiles quietly. "Then maybe this is an evening of historical importance after all."

Freyja chuckles quietly, a little self-consciously, "Well... let's not let my mental rambling assume too much importance here, hai?" She lets her shoulder brush Leif's in quiet companionship, "Let's just... well... let's just try to enjoy things as much as we can, despite our fears."

She smiles at the touchingly, strangely loyal young man standing next to her, impressed once again at his dedication, "As Master Roakkana put it earlier, memories of laughter and happiness make it easier to get through the dark times."

Leif smiles and nods. "We can but try. And that is... a very good way of looking at it."

Freyja smiles at Leif in quiet companionship, then turns to greet yet another guest. She's not surprised when the press of the crowd separates them yet again... she'll turn up when she's needed, for whom she's needed, she figures. The Force is like that.

Zero shifts a little where he stands, still a little disturbed by the sudden shift in dress he precipitated. Freyja, what were you wanting to ask that Mandalorian? I think I see an opportunity.

Freyja tilts her head thoughtfully, 'listening' to Zero even as she pleasantly greets another guest, then replies, Ah! That would be wonderfully fascinating, if you could get the Mandalorian to talk with you. Remember the 'safe-phrase' I told you and Fhazil, that lets Mandalorians know you're trustworthy? Well, I was interested in trying that with the Count's Mandalorian, to see if he or she was willing to talk.

In particular, I'm worried the Count may be part of the Senator's conspiracy to sell droids to the Empire... because the Mandalorian utterly demolished a potential 'assassin,' and then left the area for a bit. As I recall, that's the same behavior they said they'd be using to hide the fact Captain Thorn wasn't truly dead too, remember? So... can you find out, if they'll talk to you, what they know about the Count?

Zero nods. I'll see what I can find out.

Thanks, sweetheart! Feel free to call if you need anything.

Zero passes quietly from the hall and into a side-room where a few less-important people are milling about. He passes behind the armored figure and murmurs, just loud enough to be overheard, a few secret syllables that make no sense at all to anyone that isn't listening for them.

The Mandalorian just barely glances to Zero before there is a faint *click* and Zero finds himself in a white-noise field. "Funny," the armored person quips quietly, "you don't look Mandalorian."

Zero hmms? "And I've no idea what Mandalorians look like. You lot are fond of your armor."

The Mandalorian chuckles softly. "Touché," he replies. "Can you blame us? Hiriam Owl at your service, Zero Satau."

Zero says, "Pleased to meet you. You're here with the Count?"

"...officially, yes. That is, he's paying for me to be here protecting him."

Zero nods. "So I thought. I don't want to be obtrusive... I'll make it fast so we can both go back to looking pretty for the aristoi. My Lady is worried the Count might be running droids to the Sith Empire."

"Your lady is quite right to be worried, though I know very little of the investigation overall. I only stopped an assassin who knew a lot about it, and made her knowledge available to appropriate parties."

Zero says, "I've seen that false-death ploy before."

The Mandalorian's note of humor comes through the armor's voder. "We really are trying to keep from being predictable, you know. But for now it works well enough. She's safe, out gal-west where Senator Kalatis and Count Mis can't get to her."

Zero says, "Keeping an eye on the Count then, rather than out for him? I gotcha. Out of curiosity, nobody's seen the Rodian bastard in a few weeks. You think someone did the quick-fade on him?"

Freyja's whisper touches Zero's mind quietly, Hey, Zeriza? If he can answer, it'd be very, very interesting to know if there's a Mandalorian strike force being aimed at the Sith advancing forces at Tanaab in three weeks... and he might like to know about Khoud, too, to pass on to his folks, so they don't get used by Khoud to keep the war going?

"Both, actually. We do try to complete all contracts we're signed on for, after all. But he's getting suspicious. I'm surprised he didn't light off the planet as soon as he heard the Sith were coming here. As for Kalatis -- no idea. If he got ganked, nobody's claiming any knowledge of it. I'd say he went to ground somewhere and is hoping he can escape the coming heat storm. But as the Twi'lek say, you cannot escape a heat storm -- you can only survive it."

Zero hehs. "Tell you what, Owl. I've heard whispers about Mandalorians on their way to Tanaab. Think you can tell me where the truth is there? I'll trade you for a little secret about the Rodian's better half."

The Mandalorian is silent for a moment. "Interesting offer. All right, I'll bite. The Balmorran Sector Cabinet signed for a full strike force to be sent to Tanaab. Their target is Sith Lord Ghang Si'yul. I don't know what this ceasefire will do to the strike timetable."

Zero arches an eyebrow. "Well. Did they now. Well, all right. Here's one for you. Kalatis is in the pocket of a member of the Jedi Council -- a Cerean named Balin Khoud. The honorable sera Khoud is at the heart of this little ideological conflict we're all busy dealing with; he's a frothing zealot as Cereans go and is not going to stand for anything less than a Jedi monopoly on the Force. He engineered this little conflict through Kalatis... so a decisive strike on Lord Si'yul is... well. I'll let you decide for yourself what that means for your people headed to Tanaab and why he might want to see them going there."

"Oh, you have no idea how much more enjoyable that's making my current job here." The tone of the Mandalorian's voice clearly indicates it's anything but 'enjoyable.' "As soon as his shuttle arrives I'm going to be making every excuse to stay near Mis. Fortunately that shouldn't be too hard. Mind you, I still don't like the idea of being in the same planetary system as a Target Delta."

He listens to Zero interestedly, or what seems like interest through the armor. "Hmm. Strategy wasn't my strongest point, but I see what you mean." He mulls it over for a few moments more. "Stang."

Zero says, "Stang is right. My opinion, worth exactly what you paid for it: next time you get to a holonode maybe let your people in Tanaab know the score."

"Mmph. Count on it. I just hope the strike team hasn't changed their direction to here. Thanks for the information, Zero Satau. As soon as I bed down for the evening and do my check-in with the 'business office' I'll pass that on to them. This could change a whole lot of things."

Zero says, "Here's hoping." Then he adds, "So about now you and I ought to be going back to looking tamely dangerous for the aristoi. See you around and good luck, one pro to another, Owl."

There is a quiet chuckle over the voder. "I hear you. Same to you." There is another *click* as the white-noise field switches off. Zero grins, waves over his shoulder. Then a brightly dressed valet passes behind in his wake, and he's gone.

Freyja winces mentally at the news from Zero, then comments quietly, All right. It's only fair to let Magnussen know, if Father's not told him already. He's the one responsible for our safety, and he knows there'd be Hela to pay if the Haus lost an invited guest -- and an Honored Stranger, to boot! -- to an assassin. Her mental tone is somber, We'd never live that one down.

She's silent for a moment, then adds, I need to tell Mother to disassociate us from the Count's holdings, too. Just how far has this sickness spread, that the Balmorran Sector Cabinet is willing to sponsor assassination? She sighs quietly, her mental voice tired, This is so very not good.

Zero comments dryly, Just remember, love... one of the persons closest to you is an assassin. Anyone making a move on Ghang here on Balmorra won't be leaving with all their limbs attached.

Freyja gives Zero a relieved mental hug, her mental 'voice' sincere, Thank you, sweetheart. You don't know how much that means to me. She sighs, still worried but less so, unaware of her Balmorran speech patterns creeping into her mental-speak also, I think it'd break Fhazil's heart if assassins got the Si'yul here, of all places. And I told him he'd be safe... I simply can't let the Si'yul down.

Zero murmurs, No one is going to beat Argent Ling and I at our own trade. Not while I'm still breathing.

Freyja laughs in spite of herself, with mixed tired rue and quiet amusement. Smiling, she murmurs, You're wonderful, you know that?

Zero smiles, I try.

It is almost at the very moment the herald is announcing, "Kuras Gavin Leottsen, Kuras Marin Leottsen, Kuras Deirdre Leottsen," that Zero recognizes the woman he met briefly at the Curia. Her parents are both dressed in typical Balmorran formal attire, bedecked in enough flowers to suit aristoi. They are, despite the family name, clearly Southern Balmorran in ancestry.

What causes the stir is Deirdre's own dress, which is definitely different, seeming to be an odd but very attractive amalgamation of the Balmorran long coat and Corellian cheongsam, in blended red and white silk with thread-of-gold embroidery. And, of course, flowers: a rather daring cascade across subtly flared shoulders of white violets and some kind of pink or red roses.

Zero huhs. This one claims they've met you before, Freyja. I think she's been watching you. Best watch her right back, if these kuras are all so bent on testing you.

Freyja glances towards the entering kurasai, smiling politely. To Zero she curiously asks, Watching me? Huh. We knew each other as children, before I left with Master Roakkana... I'm not sure why she'd want to test me, though? Is she upset with me after the Curia or something?

She blinks, then smiles with a touch of quiet humor, Hm... interesting mixed message those flowers are sending, though. Passion, worthiness... unity -- modesty? I wonder if Corellia has different flower languages than Balmorra?

Don't know. But she didn't think you'd remember her... might be a nice idea to let her know you haven't forgotten.

Freyja looks a bit hurt for a moment. Surely everyone here doesn't think so little of her...? -then just mentally shakes her head, chiding herself internally. She shouldn't be so over-sensitive! She'd probably worry the same thing, were their positions reversed. She smiles, heading for the entering kurasai to welcome them and thank Deirdre, her childhood friend, for coming.

The Leottsen family starts through the ritual greetings with the Baron Rigg, and Freyja senses more than hears her mother coming up beside her. There's obviously a little tension, as there usually is between the aristoi and the more powerful of the kurasai, but it remains as little more than a faint simmering between the two, easily ignored for further perusal in the Chamber of Commerce.

Marin Leottsen absolutely enthuses about how Freyja has grown so much -- then in a more respectful tone, a bit belatedly realizing Freyja is no longer the young girl but the Arving lady, compliments her on the Curia. The mildly uncomfortable moment that follows is filled by Deirdre drifting forward, curtseying and smiling to Freyja. "It is good to see you again, my Lady."

Freyja smiles, thanking the Kuras Leottsen for her kindness, then turns to Deirdre to say sincerely, "You also, Deirdre! How long has it been? I think you left before I left with Master Roakkana." She smiles, "I hope things have gone well for you and your family?" She can feel that faint tingle of alertness on the side her mother is on. Something's up... she pays great attention surreptitiously to her mother, to follow her cues.

Deirdre ducks her head a little, still smiling. "It's been... oh, quite a long while. Things have been well, all in all, thank you. And how with you? I was not on Balmorra when you left, and I could not make it to your betrothal ceremony."

Freyja chuckles quietly, "Ah, like all betrothal ceremonies it was long on ritual and short on actual enjoyment." She smiles again, "I trust you and your family will be able to make the hafla, hai?"

Deirdre nods. "Yes, we will. And I hope we may... talk again soon." She curtsies. "Congratulations again." And with that, she is whisked off further into the gathering while another group of guests comes through the doorway.

Freyja raises an inquiring eyebrow at her mother in the quiet moment while the new guests are speaking with the herald. "Well," Erde says, smiling. "It is good to see Deirdre again. And a lovely if unconventional dress she was wearing. Partly Corellian, but isn't that style also found on Sedrak, as well?"

A short distance away, Zero taps his chin a few times, considering. In certain circles, yes. Unusual little garment, that was.

"Umm..." Freyja thinks, then shakes her head, answering her mother's question, "Not sure, really." More practically she adds, "What was that about?" At Zero's thought-comment Freyja adds for her mother's benefit, "Oh, pardon... hai, some folks wear clothing like that on Sedrak." She grins, looking after Deirdre, "Maybe she has a thing for Zero's fashion plate-ness. He seems to have accidentally made everyone slightly more monochrome as it is." She whispers curiously to Zero, What sorts of folks wear that style of clothing?

Erde laughs softly. "Very possible. He did seem to have that effect, at least on those who attend gatherings here. It's a bit of a compliment, actually. He's seen as being in favor here -- and he is -- so there's the subtle attempt to emulate him. Though I admit it's made me throw about more flowers to bring back some color."

Zero answers, The upper middle class. Courtesans, sometimes, but the higher tier ones. It's considered respectable clothing for a woman that wants to make an impression.

Freyja grins quietly, and Zero can 'hear' her comment to her mother, "Apparently the clothing style she's chosen is appropriate for a woman who wants to make an impression. Considering those flowers, I'd say she's succeeded! Is her family trying to find some impoverished aristoi family to marry her off to, or something?" She shakes her head a bit ruefully, "Don't envy her, if so."

Erde considers Freyja's words thoughtfully. "Hmm. The Leottsens -- or the MacLeods, as they were once known -- have traditionally been very strongly unsworn... else they'd likely not have thrived in Macronainsberg for so very long. Marrying her into the aristoi would be... dangerous financially. I doubt the Macronainsberg city council would like any aristoi to have holdings in their city. At least, holdings to the extent the Leottsens have. She's certainly the right age to be betrothed, however."

Freyja gives her mother a faintly amused smile, "Well, my sincere thanks for the extra flowers, Mother. I admit, I wish I could persuade Zero to wear more color, too."

Erde smiles. "Feel free to make use of them how you feel they'd be best used. We've plenty to go around. Twice, even!"

Freyja considers a moment more, then shakes her head, "I wonder what Deirdre's planning, then?" She smiles again, "Well, I'd guess there'll be lots of both marriageable and available young men about for this week, so I guess her dress makes sense in that respect. I wish her the best. She was always nice to me."

Erde considers, thoughtfully. "Yes, I do hope the best for her as well. I wonder where she's been..."

Freyja leans quietly closer to her mother, to softly whisper, "We must speak later, Mother, on other news." She'll give her mother the information about disassociating from the Count.

Erde listens to Freyja interestedly, then nods with a frown. "I can assure you, it shan't take much to convince your father of that, but doing it now? Do you realize the scene your father would make? Neh... of course you know." She sighs. "I shall try to inform him of this quietly and discretely. It is something we should do, certainly. I'm so glad your grandfather chose to not expand into military battle droids...."

Freyja nods quietly, "I also. Personally, I'd suggest not telling him -- he practically advertises his feelings! Just tell him I've discovered more unsettling news and I'll tell him more as soon as I know more -- which is true, really. And then tell him I strongly suggest the disassociation."

Elsewhere and all unknowing, Zero turns to a random, unsuspecting aristoi and tells him simply, "Hey. Nice outfit."

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Last modified: 2002-Jul-16 16:14:54

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