Knight-Errantly Chapter Three
Suggested Theme:
Main Theme- Whilst the Night Rejoices Profound and Still by Current 93
"Prince, aren't we going to your home first?" Armitage asks as he sees the Prince's parents load the luggage in a separate speeder; he and the Prince are currently in another speeder with Chewie helming it.
"We're going to the shopping district to treat ourselves." Meaning his mom hates my clothes and want me to get new ones. I don't want to owe that woman anything! His thin lips tighten into a frown.
"I don't think your mom would be happy if we maxed out her credit chip."
"She's not paying for this spree; I am." Armitage opens his mouth and then closes it when he remembers how much credits that the Prince has in his account.
"Oh…so how can I pay you back?"
"We're friends, you don't need to." The Prince lays his lily-white hand over his already freckled one.
"My uncle raised me to pay my debts, even to my family."
"…Did your uncle charge you for everything?"
"Only when I was living on his ship, but I paid him back with labor."
"…..Why?"
"Because you're supposed to pay your debts, even to your family.
"…..Since you're so insistent, then you can bestow upon me a favor that I can use at any time."
"Yes, I can do that!" There's no way I could've paid him back with credits; it would take a general's salary to do it. And I don't know if I even want to be one…
After this adventure, I'll have to go back to the Academy. I'll have to leave the Prince and Dead-Star at the mercy of their family. Han's okay, I guess. But Luke would kill Dead-Star if he caught sight of those Sith yellow eyes. And Leia…I can't trust that she won't do the same. She'd probably be all for it if it means that it'll "fix" her kid. Maybe, I can ask the Warlord for a spell to protect–
"Armitage, are you well?" The Prince crashes his thought-train with his sincere concern.
"Oh, um, yeah. I was just thinking about the future…"
"Is the future so dreadful to make you as pale as an Umbaran?" Armitage laughs weakly, but the Prince frowns and places a hand over his. "What do you fear?"
"….For you."
The Prince smiles.
"I'm confident that you'll protect me, my Wistie." Armitage feels himself smile at that like a virginal knight receiving a compliment from a pretty queen.
"I'm pretty certain that clothes can't hurt you."
Chewie lets out a low groan to beg to differ.
"Time to change the feed." Anakin announces and puts his hand forward about to wave the children away.
"Why?"
"They'll be clothes shopping for at least five hours. As much as I love Ben, I can't pfassking stand watching him shop."
"Couldn't even do that for your angel?" Desolous teases lightly.
"Nope. Did it once as her bodyguard before we got married and decided that I wouldn't ever do it again if I didn't have to."
"How long did she shop?"
"Seven, and that's the average for pureblooded Naboo. Six is usually Ben's, but he does five when he's with someone who has little patience for that sort of thing. Like Han. I hate Han, but at least he does that much for Ben."
"He didn't do that for him today." Desolous nearly relishes the frown on Anakin's imagined middle-aged face.
"He's taking care of Leia." Anakin manages to keep his tone civil if heated. "So what's up with Armitage's uncle? He sounds hells-bent on honor."
"It's not about honor!" Desolous laughs for half a minute, while Anakin looks on with a mixture of concern and offense.
"So he's strict?"
"Den Siva, and before you ask, no, he and Brendol are not blood-related; they're not even the same species."
"Oh…..so were they slaves together?"
"Yes, they shared the same master, which they both slewed when they were about twelve. Siva is a Nagai, which are what the people on Nagi are called in Basic. Although, everyone else in the Unknown Regions call them the Knives."
"I can figure out why. What's Den like?" Desolous pauses for a second, not wanting to share his past intimacy, but he knows Anakin and how much pestering he'll get it if he doesn't answer something this simple.
"Perhaps, you'll ascertain from this warning that Brendol issued about his brother: 'You have half of my heart, and my brother has the other half. If you met, you would've tried to kill him for the other half.'"
"…..I'm actually getting more about you than him. Like how possessive you were of him." His silver eyes bore into Anakin's blue ones, imparting his disbelief and disappointment.
"I know, I know I'm not the best moralizer. But I know that the Dark Side amplifies our worst traits."
"Still blaming the Dark Side, but it got you into Jedi Heaven!" He bares his sharpened teeth. "I was possessive of Brendol when I was still a Jedi; granted, I was unlikely to kill someone over it. If Brendol wasn't such a natural repellant to his fellow officers and women, I would've certainly accused him of cheating."
"Have you ever?"
"No, not even during the year of my Jedi death and Dark Side rebirth. Such loyalty to those who could toss him aside for someone better, which made him ridiculously humble too. He underestimated his romantic worth, and I never quelled him of those insecurities. Only Triclops did for a time."
"…..I know us Dark Siders are nearly incapable of healthy relationships."
"Yes, and what's worse, you and Sidious were my only examples to follow. There was always a pinprick of shame when I was with Brendol because I know Dark Siders aren't supposed to love. I never even told him..."
"Palpatine always claimed that we Sith should embrace our emotions but use them as tools. For him, love has always been his most useless tool."
"How? He used your love for Amidala to kill the Jedi Order."
"Yes, but that was mostly fear. He used my fear of her death to commit to him and the Dark Side." The middle-age illusion gives out and pouty youth takes over.
"….You're still sullen over the fact that he didn't love you like you wanted him to."
"Would it have killed him to kiss me or hold my pfassking hand every now and again?" Amazingly, a whine didn't erupt from those heart-shaped lips, but Desolous feels that was only because Anakin practiced his restraint in his time here.
"If he did, then Luke would be here instead of you."
Brendol Hux is laid down on his bed by the 2-1B with all the tenderness that his previous human caretakers lacked. The human medics didn't hurt him, but he could tell that they wished they didn't have to treat this Imperial scum.
Of course, they'd be disgusted with me; they're medics that got their experience during the Rebellion era. Nearly all of the adults and their children hate any "imp" even if they did nothing to them, and the First Order does the same with the Rebels and their children.
"Which is why there won't be peace in the galaxy anytime soon." Luke announces while brandishing a plasticine tray of puffer pork chops and maize rolls with one hand. The other hand is holding the handle of an earthen teapot with two cups stuck to his fingers and clacking noisily against the pot like rapping fingers.
"That's not true." Brendol receives the tray, freeing Luke and the tea.
"Never then?" Luke hands him a cup. He sees a starblossom blooming in brown water.
"No, there will be peace. Once everything and everyone dies." Luke snorts with disbelief and takes a sip of his tea before it cools down.
"Luke, the universe will die one day, but we'll be long dead before that happens."
"Speak for yourself, I'll be one with the Force." Luke declares with confidence befitting a Grandmaster, but Brendol knows it's just a youthful bravado like the hair on Luke's baby face.
"If there's no universe, there's no Force. It'll be nothingness until something comes along. I'm hoping for the next universe to revolve around the Crystal." He smiles toothily at Luke like a cheeky youngling; Luke shakes his head and grabs a roll.
"There's honey butter in the middle of the roll." Luke takes a bird bite and swallows like puppy. "It's the only kind of butter I have left for this month."
"I love honey butter." Brendol takes a roll, tears a small piece off, and pops it into his mouth to avoid getting crumbs in his developing beard.
"I'm not certain if your medics would approve of it." Now, it's Brendol's turn to snort.
"They would approve of poison if that didn't break their oath. I'd rather be treated by the droid."
"Good, because those medics need to return to the fleet. Plus, Waste cost me nothing."
"Did Solo steal it and couldn't sell it?" Brendol gives him a faux sidelong look, and Luke responds with knitted brows.
"….No. He and Chewie found it about a year before I met them when they were on an Imperial prison ship. They won't tell me what happened there, but Chewie shakes whenever I ask."
"You should quit asking then."
"Yeah, yeah!" Luke crosses his arms with the cup in a durasteel grip. "But usually talking about trauma helps."
"Well, some don't feel comfortable about talking about it when someone pesters them to." Luke's lips twitch like he's fighting hard not to pout. "Personally, I find music an outlet when words fail me, which is often. I'm not a natural orator like Armitage."
"…..Will you show me?" Rama told me that Skywalker males have a fetish for redheads. Maybe, they also have a musician fetish. Brendol smiles at the thought and at the younger man.
"Get the blue guitar from the Queen Izrina, it should be in one of bedrooms." He then pulls out the ship's keys from under his pillow; he got them back from Armitage right before the kid hightailed it to breakfast. "Here are the keys."
"Which one is the Queen Izrina?"
"The Vanya-class Jedi courier."
"How did you get a Jedi courier in the first place?"
"That is a story for another day, so go."
"Will you tell me that story?" Anakin asks with cautions befitting a child used to being told "no."
"He found it. Just like his ship, sword, and Sith armors, he found it. If you want a more detailed rendition, you'll have to wait until he tells it." Desolous answers. It takes half a second for Anakin to completely process it.
"Sith armors? He has more than one!? And how is he able to use it if he's not Force-sensitive?"
"Another story for another day." I'm going to be waiting for a decade before I get any damn answers! Anakin scowls and crosses his arms, making Desolous roll his eyes and point at the viewscreen. "Perhaps, this will soothe your temper."
Brendol, a stout ginger with hands perfect for strangling snakes, plucks at the baby-blue guitar with gentleness reserved for elfin harpists. He moves his pork-greased lips:
"As we stared beyond the windows there,
Over all the gardens
That have never been
And will never grow again.
How long?
How long?
The shining winking stars,
The clouds too high,
So high,
Pointing to some final star.
The dull face of the sky."
Not many are privy to this knowledge, but Anakin Skywalker can sing, and even less know how much he enjoys the act. He learned to sing from his mother and fellow slaves toiling in the heat of the twin suns; they used it as a way to express their suffering and finite joys, which branded itself in young Ani's mind before he could properly articulate his feelings. Most who know him would argue he still can't.
"And the sound of the calling
Of the distant village bell
And all that."
From his point of view, Brendol's voice would be better lent to a bawdier song or a song that required a lot of growling. Yet, the fifty-something ginger seems at ease in the nihilistic rasps that is required for this type of sad song. It takes years of experience to sound this natural in a tone generally unsuited for them; he should know since it took him nearly a decade to sing happy songs without falsity.
"The sun is not enough for us
Any longer,
And her smile,
Though she wears her hat
And her cheery rays
Do not blanket with their glorious glare.
The burning body
With distorted nimbus
I see so well
Just beyond my neighbour's house
It does not blank out."
The Jedi fine-tuned his voice, but they could not inspire him to learn an instrument, making Anakin have a comfortable gap in his musical education that he has yet to fill, even with his infinite time in the afterlife. So he can only judge Brendol's performance by his personal preferences, and he believes that the older-younger man is playing well. And his son, completely enraptured and deaf to everything else, appears to like it too.
"The last sigh of the soul
Whilst the night rejoices profound and still.
At the edge of your street,
Both shadow and destroyer
But not alas
The comforter."
After the last lyric is sung, Brendol continues to strum for nearly fifty more seconds before ending his performance. Anakin claps, while Luke smiles like he's been gifted something he never knew he wanted.
"This actually should've been done on piano, but I never learned to play one. It would've been impossible with two broken legs and all."
"And they're very expensive…" Luke mumbles, and Anakin suddenly remembers that Luke bought one for the music room with the hopes that maybe one of his students would learn to use it. But none of them appeared to be musically inclined, so it's been gathering dust and guiltily eating away at Luke's frugality.
"I was fifteen and fell from a high-up tower and into the dried moat below. Since we didn't have anything near as miraculous as bacta, I had to heal the old-fashioned way. It took three months for my legs to heal and then another six to get back into fighting form."
"Why were you on the tower?"
"There was a siege going on, and I needed to find my brother."
"Do comlinks not exist in the Unknown Regions?"
"They do, but the thunderstorm was raging far too fiercely to get a proper signal out."
"How were you able to see then?"
"Special waterproof goggles, but the metal from that, my armor, and my sword attracted lightning."
"Clearly, the Force wanted you alive."
"The lightning did miss me, but it pushed me back and I fell. It's a good thing I had my helm on!"
Anakin smiles at the way Luke shakes his head; he shakes it so much like Obi-Wan when he was too good for sighing.
"I swear Brendol has luck that smugglers would envy." Desolous sighs, even though he's heard this story twice before.
"But not in his love life!" Anakin teases, which makes Desolous scowls.
"Brendol is terribly great at focusing on the good in those he loves, much to his detriment. Just like Armitage with Ben."
"Ha! You just admit that Armitage loves Ben!"
"Anakin, that wasn't a compliment!"
Seven hours later, Armitage Hux shuffles into the Solo-Organa apartment like the living dead. Except the living dead didn't have to deal with the poodoo of trying every single outfit that their friend insisted on. That was five hours, and when they couldn't find Chewie, the Prince insisted on searching for shoes.
Armitage hears Leia calling from the kitchen, but he doesn't stop and nearly smashes into Han. The smuggler uses his thumb to direct him to his room; Armitage doesn't mutter a thanks, and the smuggler just nurses his shot of Corellian whiskey as he goes to the kitchen.
The white door slides open into a soft-blue room with coral-colored sheets and fluffed-up pillows. He nearly trips over a box of shoes that arrived an hour before him and doesn't pause to take his boots off. He falls face-first into the mountain of pillows.
He breathes in the scent of sheets; they smell dusty and rosy. He keeps his head buried and hopes that the person who just entered isn't the Prince or Leia. The former he doesn't want to see the look of hurt that must be there when Armitage ran away from him and the shopping bags; the latter because he doesn't have the energy to be angry with her.
"Master Armitage, I've brought you a cup of ginger tea." The golden droid announces cheerfully. Armitage pulls his head away and keeps his eyes closed.
"Thank you, See-Threepio, if you would please put the tea on the nightstand, I would be most appreciative." He answers with more sincere respect to the protocol droid than he would with anyone in the First Order, including the Grand Admiral.
"Very well, sir." He listens to the electronic crinkling of the droid's limbs and drowns in the pleasant sounds. "Do you need anything else, Master Armitage?"
"No thank you, See-Threepio." He hears the whirl as the droid gives him a small bow of general respect at his polite dismissal. Once he hears the door slide close, he sinks his head back into the pillows and hopes to be alone for the rest of the day.
The door slides open and then closes.
"Human, are you dead?" Dead-Star asks bluntly, and Armitage wishes he could just ignore him. But he knows better than to do that to this temperamental dragon trapped in a human boy's body. He lifts his head up again.
"Still alive, Dead-Star. I'm just tired." He puts his head back down and swears that he won't lift it up again. Dead-Star grunts and stalks to the bedside. He half expects the dragon to roll him over and shake his eyes open. But he then hears him go to the other side of the bed and hops right on the bed.
"I'm tired too." Dead-Star says and then rolls until he's right on the cape. Armitage quickly unlatches the cape's brooch so he can breathe again.
"I think I'm just going to sleep."
"Me too." Dead-Star takes his hand and lifts it up; he feels something wet and warm slither across the palm, the dragon's kiss.
"I love you too, Dead-Star."
Author's Comments: Here are the links-
Here's an image of a 2-1B. I thought about using the one that supposedly helped Luke, but I have an affection for one with an actual name: a href=" . /revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/180?cb=20101215160512"Link/a
Here is the link to song that Brendol sings to Luke and the Force Ghosts: a href=" watch?v=GoJtGWk-B4g"Link/a
Waste is from Joe Schreiber's Death Troopers, not to be confused with the New Canon's Imperial Death Troopers, and he actually got destroyed by zombies, but I decide to save his life; I recommend it if you're looking for a good horror-action book with zombies in it. And there's even a character named Armitage in it!
I planned for Mon Mothma to show up in this chapter, but I decided to save all the politics for the next chapter. Next chapter should have Leia taking the kids to the Senate building, Armitage finally gets some things off his chest, and Padmé pops by.
