Butterflies and Hurricanes

Summary:

If you were to inquire information on the curious young woman, Arianna Ravyn, people would tell you everything they know:

She's a young, seventeen-year-old woman (as most come-to-age by the age of fifteen) free merchant dealer.

She's vibrant, bright-eyed and full of life; always grinning and teasing where she sees fit.

She's a personal friend of the Skywalker Family; often keeping a protective eye out for trouble that usually follows the young Anakin Skywalker.

She would tell you that all of these are lies.

Except for being a friend to the Skywalker's.

Her greatest secrets, even the ones she can't remember, are worse than she first believed. Her lost past becomes unraveled as she gets pulled into saving the peaceful planet of Naboo.

Author's Note:

This story contains an OC's; Arianna Ravyn (pronounced Ar-ee-ah-nah Rah-vin), Kai-Lyn Nyx, and Slaine Orino. Story title is taken from Muse's 'Butterflies and Hurricanes', a favorite band and song of mine. All of the chapters will be titled by a song that fits the chapter well. This will probably build into an Obi-Wan/OC (Arianna) story.

Chapter One
Feeling Good

'Stars when you shine
You know how I feel
Scent of the pine
You know how I feel
Yeah, freedom is mine
And you know how I feel

It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
For me
And I'm feeling good'

The warm, dry winds drifting through busy marketplace of Mos Espa caused many of the various patrons to keep the hoods of their desert cloaks draped over their bowed heads as they move through the several stalls and shops decorating the sides of the sand-blasted streets. Dialects from several planet systems, most harboring the morally corrupt as they come, can be heard in the air, mixing with the stale, sandy air as shoppers and merchants debated and bartered over prices and various other trades.

All of this goes relatively ignored by the single figure, a dark-grey silhouette blending in among the crowd of tan and browns as it makes its way through the bustling marketplace. The cloaked and hooded figure steps up to a food stall, shielded eyes glancing over the variety of produce and salt-preserved meats on display.

"Ah, Miss Ravyn, a pleasure to see you again my dear," the shopkeeper greets the hooded figure; most of the residents and slave-workers in Mos Espa recognizing the only person bold and crazy enough to wear such a bold color cloak among the familiar tans and browns of most residents. "How was your trip?"

"Well, seeing as though I came back in one piece, you can be rest assured that it went relatively well," the cheeky, feminine voice replies, and despite not being able to see it, the shopkeeper can practically hear the smirk in the woman's response. "Although, it wasn't like I was transferring anything worth stealing this time."

"Good to hear, my dear. What can I get for you today?"

The cloaked woman hums thoughtfully, her gloved hand reaching up to scratch at the side of her neck with a single, bare finger, "Hm...can I get you to get me two of your month-long rationed packages?"

"I can. If you're interested, I can toss in a third package for half its original price."

The woman drops her hand from the side of her neck, once again the smirk audible in her words as she replies, "Toss in a fourth package, and I'll give you two-thirds of the original price for one."

"You got yourself a deal."

The cloaked woman lets a soft, airy laugh as she shakes the man's hand. Exchanging the correct amount of Tatooine credits for the food rations, the two give their farewells before the cloaked woman slips back into the crowd. It doesn't take her long to arrive to her destination; the sand-blasted dome-shaped house unit greeting her like a home away from home.

Placing her palm on the scanner along the side of the door, she sighs with relief as the door gives way and allows her entrance. As the door slides shut behind her, she makes to pull down her hood, running fingers through the black fringed bangs. Coming to her custom made piloting goggles; the lenses blackened to protect her eyes from sunlight, she pulls them away from her face and settles them along the crown of her head. Silver-tinted violet eyes peers around the dimly lit interior. None of the lights were on, seeing as though the Twin Suns were at High Noon. Despite the dim lighting in the house, she inhaled deeply at the scent of home and warm reception.

"Ari? Is that you, child?"

Silver-violet eyes roll comically at being considered a child before the young woman carries the rations further into the house, heading into the kitchen unit, "Hiya, Shmi!" She greets as she carefully places the food rations on the counter, her eyes quickly sweeping over the brown-haired matron of the house. Seeing the woman looking no worse than usual, only signs of weariness in her eyes, the ebony-haired woman grins broadly, "You look like you are doing well."

Shmi's soft hazel eyes brighten as they land on the wayward child she had come across a couple years ago, "I'm doing just fine, Ari. You know it isn't necessary to buy rations every time you come back."

The girl shrugs nonchalantly, "Meh, I figured I had the necessary monetary exchange for it. Besides, whether you believe it or not, I owe you my life."

Shmi places a mug of Caf down in front of her, taking her own glass of water, and smiles. Looking over the dark-haired youth, Shmi remembers that fateful day, so many years ago. She had been sent out by her previous Master to the moisture farms when a fighter vessel crash landed beyond one of the dunes wrapping around the farm. Out of pure instinct, Shmi had raced toward the top of the dune, shouts from the farm workers echoing in the air as men and other slave workers follow her lead. The carnage of scrap metal and smoking engine parts littered the ground. The watchers, wide-eyed, began to lose hope of anyone surviving the crash when something shifted a slab of sheet metal. Shmi remembers vividly as she watched a blood-coated hand appear from under the metal, fingers digging into the hot sand for purchase as the lean, muscled arm tensed, pulling at the ground for leverage. Shmi recalls the horrified gasps that escaped her lips, and the lips of those around her, as the young figure pulled herself from the wreckage.

That had been two years ago. The young woman sitting at her table, sipping the mug of coffee, was always a sight for sore eyes. Arianna Ravyn, she had called herself. She had been released from the local med-care unit two planetary weeks after Shmi and the farmers rescued her, but while her wounds had all but healed, her memory seems to be completely lacking. During the first three planetary months, Arianna had only remembered her name, that her eyes were photo-sensitive, and that she was a fierce pilot.

"So, did you manage to uncover anything during your trip?"

Arianna's eyes blink mechanically as she looks up from her Caf, "Nothing useful, if that's what you mean. Is Ani at the shop?" Shmi nods, smiling softly as the dark-haired woman drains the last of her drink before standing upright, "I'm going to drop in for a visit. Would rather not have to deal with the outcome if I don't see him right away."

Shmi lets out a small laugh, nodding her head. If there is one thing Shmi is thankful for, it is that her son has someone strong and independant as a role model. She had been surprised when Anakin and Arianna formed a bond unlike anything ever seen. The young woman had become a member of their small family, and the very thought forces Shmi to blink back her warm heart-felt tears. She wishes she could help Arianna uncover her forgotten past.

"Okay, dear. Try to keep out of trouble. Make sure you are here for dinner tonight."

Arianna smirks, realizing that Shmi did not make it a suggestion, "I'd be happy to join you guys for dinner. I'll be sure to walk Ani home. Did you need me to pick anything up on the way back?"

Seeing Shmi shake her head, the ebony-haired girl gives her a mocking salute before pulling her goggles down over her eyes and lifting her grey hood over her head. Slipping out of the house unit and into the dry desert heat. Weaving through the crowd, Arianna's thoughts deepen as she thinks over the past two years. Sometimes, she hears things during her sleep, phantom conversations. She has already admitted to herself, though she can't remember where she came from, or who she was before her accident, she enjoys the life she has made for herself.

"I said clean up this kriffin mess, boy!"

Arianna's small smile fades, the muscle along her jaw tense as she clenches her teeth. Okay, so maybe there are parts that she could do without. Like the slavery business. Although, with the amount of credits she's earned up, the Skywalker family won't be slaves for much longer.

"Welcome to-" the blue-skinned Toydarian pauses in his greeting at the familiar sight of the grey-hooded figure entering his shop, "Oh...it's just you. Whaddaya want?"

"I'm afraid I'm not in need of any parts," Arianna replies, dropping her hood, "You know I would only ever come here if I need anything fixed on my vessel. As it is, I was looking for Anakin."

"He's in the back, cleaning up that mess of scrap metal-"

Not bothering with listening to Watto run at the mouth, Arianna bows her head respectfully before slipping into the back room. A small smile tugs at her slightly chapped lips as her gaze settles on the dusty-blonde haired boy scrubbing away at the various parts placed on display. She never really understood why she came to care for the boy; she doesn't have much patience for children in general.

"You got some dirt on your face, boy," Arianna remarks harshly, mocking Watto's tone of voice.

She can't help but giggle as the boy leaps to his feet, eyes wide and lips parting as if to argue, only to fall short all together. Seeing her dear friend's bright blue eyes widen and gleam with joy, Arianna barely catches her balance as the tan-clad blur barrels into her. As small arms wrap around her waist, she giggles, ruffling the boy's hair.

"Ari! When did you get back?"

Smiling at the natural exuberance, "Just this afternoon. I dropped by to say hello to your mother and I figured I'd come see you, as well."

For the remainder of Anakin's work shift, Arianna listens as the boy talks about his activities since her last visit. Who knew that a boy, barely nine years of age, could built and piece together a fully-functioning protocol droid; for Shmi's sake rather his own. Or work on and build a pod-racer; which Watto would never allow the boy to pilot.

"There's supposed to be a pod-race a month from now. Are you gonna be able to make it?"

Arianna shrugs as she leads Anakin through the marketplace, "I will do my best to, but I make no promises I can't keep. Are you going to be racing?"

"I want to, I know I can win, but Watto won't let me, and Mom is terrified I'd end up in an accident of some kind," Anakin huffs, scuffing his shoe along the dusty ground as they walk, not at all bothered by his psuedo-sister hidden beneath the hood once more, "I just wish there was some way to make enough money to save Mom."

Arianna ruffles his hair, offering him a sympathetic grin, "Hey, if you end up being put in any of the upcoming pod-races, I'll be sure to place a bet in your favor."

"But Sabulba always wins."

Arianna giggles, "Exactly. So many people would be placing bets on Sabulba, that in the chance of you winning, the person that bets on you would win a lot more money than if the person bet on Sabulba since all of the bets would be split up among the people that bet on him. So, I place the minimum amount on you, in the chance that you win the race, I'd earn all of the bets against you, which would then be split up on any person that placed a bet on you as well."

"No one bets on me," Anakin points out.

"My point," Arianna retorts, nudging his shoulder playfully as they both catch sight of the Skywalker house, "Come on, Ani. Let's see what your mother is cooking."

Anakin lets out a childish giggle before breaking into a sprint, his tiny legs pushing him quick and effortlessly. Arianna mentally counts down before breaking into a sprint of her own, the duo weaving and dashing around merchant dealers. While Anakin is almost ten years younger than she is, Arianna's maturity level drops a few degrees as the pair continue their attempts at sabotaging the other's potential win. Despite Anakin winning, the cloaked woman can't stop the grin from forming.

Yeah. She may not remember much, but she was lucky to have found the Skywalker family.

"Lucky? Ari, please give me an example of one time we've actually been lucky, on any account."

"What about that time on Dra-"

"Orino was shot, you suffered second degree burns and our vessel had irreversable damage."

"Okay, what about the time we were on Volte-"

"I was kidnapped, held hostage and Orino nearly got busted for hacking into the treasury."

"Alright, alright, so...we don't have luck."

"Damn right we don't."

"Well, there is a bright side to all of this."

"A bright side? A bright side? Tell me, Ari. How is this a bright side?" A pause, "Orino! How many are on our tail?"

"We have three engaged, Nyx. Ari, can you shake them off?"

A soft, airy laugh sounds, "Oh, I think I have the ability to do such a thing."

Concentration. Determination. Triumph.

"Nyx, we're in the clear."

Relief.

"Good. Now, tell me what bright side there is to all of this?"

"Well, if we are lacking any type of luck, it can be assumed that we aren't hindered by bad luck, either."

Smack. "Oh my Stars, you are annoying!"

Amusement. Adoration.

"Ari!"

Blinking, Arianna shakes her head, realizing she had come to a complete stop just a few steps away from the door to the Skywalker house, "Oh, sorry about that Ani. I kind of got lost in thought."

Brushing away the phantom voices, Arianna follows Anakin into the house. No. Even if the phantom voices were distant memories, she has a family now. A family that has taken care of her. A family that has asked for nothing in return.

A family she's willing to do anything for.

"Be careful, Ari. You know I worry about you when you head out for the night."

The petite, ebony-haired seventeen-year-old glances up from securing her vibroblade along the inside of her left boot. Standing upright, Arianna smooths out her pant legs, the synthetic material sleek and clinging to the gentle curves along her thighs and hips. She ignores the maternal eye-sweep along her bare torso as she begins to weave her hair into a thick braid, leaving it to hang over her shoulder. Running her fingers through the messy, fringed bangs hanging over her eyes, she offers Shmi a small smirk.

"You should cover up," Shmi comments, uncomfortable with the petite swells and curves placed on display for all to see.

"I have to play the part if I'm going to get anything from these types of people. Besides, this," Arianna gestures to her bare torso, "is actually conservative for these people."

Shmi nods curtly, despite the frown on her lips. Arianna belts the holster for her blaster around her waist, letting the belt hang loose on her hips. Arianna knows, even with her teenage body, she is still considered smaller than most women, her build of lean muscle aimed more to endurance and flexibility than strength. Shmi shakes her head, shoving down the inner musings as Arianna double-checks her blaster, making sure it isn't going to over-heat anytime soon. This side of Arianna is the side Shmi bars Anakin from seeing; the merchant and mercenary. The only thing Shmi is thankful for is Arianna's stubborn ideals against working as an assassin, or bounty hunter of any kind.

"Alright, I'm heading out. Try not to worry too much," Arianna says, understanding that Shmi has a habit of worrying about her safety.

Pulling on her grey cloak, Arianna opts to keep the hood down as she slips into the cool, desert night. Drifting through the market square of Mos Espa, her gaze holds steady and hardens with each step she takes away from the Skywalker house. She never understood how she is capable of pushing away the outside world. She's never figured out why she finds it easy to let go of 'Ari' -the family friend- and become 'Ravyn' -the mercenary-.

The feel-good, catchy music pulls her out of her thoughts as she calmly stalks into the cantina, her synthetic-clad hips swaying with each step she takes toward the bar. Earning the attention of the bartender, she places her order and flashes the two off-world merchants a small smirk and a curt nod. Taking her drink, her sharp gaze sweeps over the interior of the cantina, pausing only to give a brief nod to the pale-green Twi'lek moving sensually along the stage, her harmonized voice tinging the air with its haunting melody. As her gaze zeroes in on the dark, brown eyes peering at her from the darkened corner of the cantina, Arianna pushes away from the bar and makes her way toward the hidden figure.

"Hello, Ravyn."

Taking a seat in the empty chair across from the figure, she nods briefly, "Hello, Samier."

"I was hoping to see you tonight," the older, humanoid man states, "I have a shipment of product that needs to get to Coruscant. Do you think you can do that?"

Arianna leans back in her seat, "It depends. Not only is Coruscant a Core Planet, but it's also one of the heaviest in transport regs. What exactly am I transporting?"

"The product isn't anything you'll get in trouble with for carrying. It's mostly tech. The guy is an old friend of mine, runs a diner on Sub-Level 12. He's a good man, knows a lot about anything. You think you can do this as a favor?"

Arianna smirks, rubbing the pads of her fingers together in a gesture, "A favor that requires a certain price. My services aren't cheep. How long is this going to take?"

"It's going to be about five weeks. My friend likes to make sure his equipment is top-of-the-line and works correctly. You should at least take in the sights. You never know what you'll figure out."

Arianna takes a moment to sip her drink, collecting her thoughts before she bobs her head in a quick nod, "Alright. I'll do it. Send me a message with full details of the mission by tomorrow afternoon. I have other business to deal with tonight, so I will let you know when I head out."

Gracefully moving to her feet, she shakes Samier's slightly clammy hand before sauntering off toward the performance area. Her eyes quickly sweep around the area before recognizing a familiar face, her eyes softening briefly. Schooling her features, she swiftly moves toward table occupied by one, lonely man; completely focused on the Twi'lek performing. Dropping into the seat next to him, she props her boot-clad feet onto the top of the table, lacing her fingers behind her head as she leans back in her seat.

"How's it going, Lars?" she greets nonchalantly, cracking a small smirk as the man next to her jumps in his seat at the sudden awareness.

"Ravyn," he hisses, soft brown eyes affectionate, even as his gruff voice hisses at her with annoyance, "Ya' know I hate it when ya' do that. Shouldn't you be with Shmi and Anakin?"

"Aye," she retorts, mocking his off-world accent, "Just got in this afternoon. Came lookin' for my next job."

"Playing merchant dealer for these kinds of people is bad news, lass."

Cocking her head to the side, she gives a mocking gasp, "Is that worry I detect?" Hearing the scoff, she lets out a small huff of laughter, "Relax, Lars. I can handle myself. My next job is going to keep me off-planet for a little over a month. You think you can do me a favor?"

"What kind of favor would that be, lass? Ya' know I avoid gettin' mixed up with your lot."

Chuckling at the underhanded barb, Arianna shakes her head, "You know there's going to be a big pod-race coming up in a month," Catching the curt nod, she ignores the snort, "Well, I'm going to be off-world and I want you to place a bet for me."

"Regarding who, exactly?"

Arianna's eyes flash dangerously, "Why, Anakin Skywalker of course."

"How much?"

Removing the credit chip, stacked with Tatooine credits, she slides it over, "All of it. You comm me when the winnings are collected."

The gruff man lets out a sigh, slipping the credit chip into the inside folds of his light-weight jacket, "You better know what the hell yer doin' kid. Just...try not to get into trouble. I'd hate to have to give Shmi any bad news regarding ya."

Hearing the undertone of worry, Arianna stands from her seat, knocking back the last of her drink and lightly punching the man's shoulder, "Relax. I'm transporting legal goods. It's in the Core System. It will be an in-and-out job. What's the worst that can happen?"

"Seeing as though it's you?" the man trails off, cocking his head to the side to gaze at her, "I can expect the worst."

"Face it, Ari. We could be on a freaking vacation and we'd still end up getting in the middle of some crisis."

Shaking away the phantom words, Arianna offers the man a smirk, "Keep faith, old man. I'll be talking to you later."

Smoothing out her opened cloak, her features grow stoic and expressionless as she leaves the cantina. Stepping outside, her hands find the pockets hidden within the folds of her cloak as she wanders aimlessly through the marketplace. Stepping outside the settlement limits, her legs fold underneath her, leaving her to sit on her heels. Looking up at the starry night sky, her eyes gleaming in the moonlight before they slide shut.

"We're not leaving you!"

Irritation. Worry. Determination.

"This is my mission! This is my ship! What I say, goes! Now get your asses to the escape pods, now! Or I'll put you both in there myself!"

Desperation. Concern.

"Fine! But if we don't hear from you, I'll come after you myself, and you won't like it."

"As long as you and Orino are alive, I'll take what I can get. Please, Nyx. Go."

Relaxation. Determination. Heat. Awareness. Pain. Weariness.

Acceptance.

"Oh my Stars. Do you think she's okay?"

"Let's get her to the med center."

"Are there any others?"

"We'll stay here and see if there are any other survivors. Shmi, go with her to the med center. If you are caught this far out, you will end up killed."

She has people out there.

Arianna's eyes slide open, turning toward the shimmering sky once more. She has...friends.

Somewhere.

And having that knowledge causes her heart to soften and eyes to water.

Author's Note: That's the first chapter. I just wanted everyone to get an idea of Arianna's personality. I promise, she isn't perfect, nor a Mary-Sue. She does get into a lot of trouble and tends to leap-before-thinking, and reacting out of instinct.

Chapter Title: 'Feeling Good' by Muse.

Next Chapter: 'Curses'