TITLE: First Knight - Part Three
BY: Arwyn Whitesun
Disclaimer and other info in Part One
------------------
"I will not go through with it."
"Onara, please, my child. You must not flout tradition. You---."
"No, Father. I have done all you requested of me, but I will not go through with the blessing ceremony."
Onara stood defiantly, her head uplifted. She was still dressed in her wedding gown, but she had taken off her veils. She glared at her father from where he stood across the room, having decided, she imagined, that this was the safest distance from her.
Onara glanced at the shards of the broken vase on the floor. She frowned. She had not meant to throw it against the wall. It had been childish of her, but it was all so terribly unfair! It was bad enough she had been torn from her studies at the Cloister to marry a man she did not know and who was old enough to be her grandfather. But to have to go through this ridiculous deflowering ritual. And with a Jedi no less! Onara firmed her jaw as she strengthened her resolve. No, she would not do it.
Her father lifted his hands towards her and Onara's heart softened when she show how much they were trembling. He was not ill, just very old and it panged her to know that someday he would be gone. And who would rule their province then? She was his only child, but she would be spending the rest of her life in Kindah province as wife to Dynast Edress and would, therefore, forfeit all rights to inherit. However, if she were to have a child, he or she could inherit her father's province after his death.
_If_ she were to have a child, for that was the problem and well she and her father knew it. Edress was very old, older even than K'lia, so there was a good chance he was incapable of fathering children. He had been married once before, but his wife had died childless. Therefore, Onara's father did not want to take any chances. He truly believed that if she spent her wedding night with someone as powerful as a Jedi Knight, she would have a fruitful marriage with Edress. Onara shook her head. How naive and terribly unmodern her father was.
"Onara," K'lia began, his voice shaking slightly. "Please. Do not make this more difficult than it has to be."
"I'm not the one making it difficult," Onara said. Then she sighed. "Father, please, try to understand," she went on in a gentler voice. "I have done everything you have asked of me. I have married Edress. I have given up my studies at the Cloister, and you know how much my studies meant to me. Now you ask me to give myself for one night to a man I don't even know and will never see again."
"But, Onara, I've told you. Master Kenobi is a fine and honorable man. There is nothing to fear from him."
"I'm not afraid of him," Onara said quickly, but her heart was racing. In truth she was afraid, very afraid, but she did not want her father to know that.
K'lia smiled warmly at her. "I am glad to hear that. You are as brave as your mother was."
"Thank you, Father. But, please, listen to me. The blessing ceremony is nothing more than an archaic ritual. It has no basis in scientific fact. Therefore, there is no reason for me to go through with it."
K'lia's kindly face settled into a heap of puzzled creases. Onara was well aware her father did not put much stock in her modern ideas, but as she moved closer to him, she desperately hoped appealing to logic would sway him from forcing her to go through with the ceremony.
"My research of the ancient records at the Cloister," she went on, her voice throbbing with conviction, "proves that the ceremony only came about because long ago some Dynast decided he wanted to be the first to sleep with young brides. He had his priests concoct this nonsense about the fecundity supposedly invested in a Dynast, or some other high-ranking male, and how that power could be transferred to the bride once he had lain with her. The blessing ceremony is nothing more than an excuse for dirty old men to lie with young virgins!"
"Blasphemy!" a voice cried from behind Onara. She turned quickly and her heart thudded in her chest.
Onara's grandmother stood in the doorway to Onara's chamber. The Lady Tsara wasn't a tall woman. The top of her head barely reached Onara's shoulder and Onara was not very tall herself, but the elderly woman was a formidable presence. Eyes as black and hard as ebony blazed in her wizened face as she advanced on Onara, her twin daughters trailing in her path.
The faces of Onara's aunts were just as wrinkled and merciless as her grandmother's. All three were dressed in the flowing black and gold ceremonial robes required for their roles as arbiters of the blessing ceremony. Lady Tsara stopped in front of Onara, her thin, wrinkled hands clasped over her stomach. She glared up at her granddaughter then turned her piercing gaze towards her son.
"I have warned you, K'lia. You have terribly spoiled this child. She has gotten away with everything from the day she was born."
Lady Tsara glanced over at the shards of the broken vase on the floor. Her wrinkled lips twisted with disgust as she shook her head. She turned back to her son.
"It's bad enough she's inherited her mother's stubbornness and frivolity," she went on sharply, "but you compound her transgressions by ignoring them. Now, you stand there and say nothing as she blasphemes."
Tsara then looked over at Onara and her eyes, if it were possible, grew even sharper and more reproachful.
"It's not blasphemy, Gran---" Onara began but her grandmother abruptly cut her off.
"Silence, you sinful child! I will hear no more of your sacrilege." She turned and gestured towards Onara's aunts. "We have come to prepare you for the ceremony."
Onara lifted her chin, but even as she tried to gather the strength to defy the woman who had terrified her since she was a child, she knew it was hopeless. No one, not her, not her father, not the other Dynasts, no one alive, or possibly dead, could stand up to the Lady Tsara and hope to prevail. She was as powerful as a winter storm and as relentless as death. Onara anxiously turned to her father for one last appeal, but Lady Tsara waved brusquely at him.
"Get out, K'lia. We have work to do."
K'lia looked helplessly over at Onara, then sighed heavily and, his bent shoulders even more rounded, left her alone with her aunts and grandmother.
"Father, please," Onara cried after him but he was gone.
She looked back at her grandmother. She saw no pity in those jet black eyes.
"Ungrateful, selfish child," Tsara snapped, hurling the words like missiles. "You're just like your mother. All you think of is yourself."
"Stop talking about my mother," Onara cried, naturally defensive of the mother she had never known. "She wasn't like that at all. Father says she was gentle and kind."
Lady Tsara snorted. "He was blinded by his lust for her."
"No. That's not true. She _was_ good."
"And how would you know? She died when you were born. However, despite the fact she had no part in your upbringing, you are exactly like her. Spoiled and selfish."
Onara felt the familiar burning in her chest. Her grandmother was always comparing her to her mother, telling Onara she had been a vain and frivolous woman who had seduced and bewitched her only son. However, her father told Onara she favored her mother, but he always talked about how beautiful and charming and spirited she had been.
Onara did not think herself particularly beautiful or charming, but it pleased her that her father thought she was spirited for in Onara's mind that was exactly how a modern girl should be. Regrettably, her grandmother did not see it that way. She was very old-fashioned and bound to the Ahjane traditions, and in her mind the blessing ceremony was one of the most sacred of those traditions. And with that thought, Onara watched with a heavy heart as her aunts bustled about her chamber, preparing for the ceremony.
"You should be honored," her grandmother said to her. "One of the fabled Jedi Knights will take your virginity and ensure the continuation of your family line. Any Ahjane bride would be grateful for such a privilege. The Jedi are not only powerful warriors, they are directly connected to the Force. Think of it! As a result of your lying with the Jedi, such power he will pass on to you. You will then, by your husband, give birth to strong daughters and sons who will ensure that our family and our province will continue to be the strongest on Ahjane."
Onara frowned, even as she blushed at her grandmother's more salacious comments. It was that kind of boastful talk regarding the noble houses of Ahjane that had led to the war in the first place and millions had suffered and died because of the pride and hubris that her grandmother was displaying.
Onara didn't care about ensuring the strength of her family or her province. She only wanted to return to her quiet life at the Cloister and finish her studies. But it was no use telling her grandmother that. She had thought Onara's father horribly misguided for letting Onara attend the Cloister in the first place. Lady Tasara considered it most improper for a high-born woman to sully herself with something as unnecessary as an education.
"Grandmother, I don't even know what this Jedi looks like," Onara said. He had been at the wedding feast, but she had not been able to see anything under the layers of veils she had been required to wear as part of her wedding attire.
Lady Tsara sniffed contemptuously. "What matters that? He is a man and in the dark they all look and feel the same."
Onara blushed again. The thought of sleeping with any man, much less a Jedi, made her feel suddenly dizzy. Although she was eighteen, she had never even been kissed. It wasn't that she was unfamiliar with the mechanics of sex, but reading about sex was one thing, having it another.
Lady Tsara's thin, creased lips twisted into a mockery of a smile as she peered up at Onara's face.
"You blush," she said slyly. "Well, that is what we are here for, your aunts and I. To prepare you for what awaits you."
Onara shook her head, but stopped when she saw her grandmother's painted-on brows lowering toward her eyes.
"You _will_ go through with the ceremony, Onara," Lady Tsara snapped, her black eyes blazing. "I will stomach no more of your willful disobedience! You will not disgrace this family. You will lie with the Jedi tonight."
Onara gazed at her grandmother for a moment, then slowly nodded, her eyes lowered. She did not want her grandmother to see the defiance that still boiled inside her. Onara knew she had no choice regarding her marriage to Dynast Edress; it was necessary to secure the peace between their provinces. But sleeping with this Jedi had nothing to do with politics or peace accords. It was only her father and her grandmother's outdated belief in the blessing ceremony that was forcing her to go through with it. It should have been abandoned years ago, but it still continued, especially within the families of the rich and powerful.
Onara glanced over to where her aunts were tittering as they laid the blessing gown she was required to wear on her bed. It was the color of starlight and the fabric of which it was made so translucent Onara might as well not be wearing anything. Tears stung her eyes. No, she would not do it. She would not lie with the Jedi. She would find a way to avoid it. Somehow.
To be continued...
BY: Arwyn Whitesun
Disclaimer and other info in Part One
------------------
"I will not go through with it."
"Onara, please, my child. You must not flout tradition. You---."
"No, Father. I have done all you requested of me, but I will not go through with the blessing ceremony."
Onara stood defiantly, her head uplifted. She was still dressed in her wedding gown, but she had taken off her veils. She glared at her father from where he stood across the room, having decided, she imagined, that this was the safest distance from her.
Onara glanced at the shards of the broken vase on the floor. She frowned. She had not meant to throw it against the wall. It had been childish of her, but it was all so terribly unfair! It was bad enough she had been torn from her studies at the Cloister to marry a man she did not know and who was old enough to be her grandfather. But to have to go through this ridiculous deflowering ritual. And with a Jedi no less! Onara firmed her jaw as she strengthened her resolve. No, she would not do it.
Her father lifted his hands towards her and Onara's heart softened when she show how much they were trembling. He was not ill, just very old and it panged her to know that someday he would be gone. And who would rule their province then? She was his only child, but she would be spending the rest of her life in Kindah province as wife to Dynast Edress and would, therefore, forfeit all rights to inherit. However, if she were to have a child, he or she could inherit her father's province after his death.
_If_ she were to have a child, for that was the problem and well she and her father knew it. Edress was very old, older even than K'lia, so there was a good chance he was incapable of fathering children. He had been married once before, but his wife had died childless. Therefore, Onara's father did not want to take any chances. He truly believed that if she spent her wedding night with someone as powerful as a Jedi Knight, she would have a fruitful marriage with Edress. Onara shook her head. How naive and terribly unmodern her father was.
"Onara," K'lia began, his voice shaking slightly. "Please. Do not make this more difficult than it has to be."
"I'm not the one making it difficult," Onara said. Then she sighed. "Father, please, try to understand," she went on in a gentler voice. "I have done everything you have asked of me. I have married Edress. I have given up my studies at the Cloister, and you know how much my studies meant to me. Now you ask me to give myself for one night to a man I don't even know and will never see again."
"But, Onara, I've told you. Master Kenobi is a fine and honorable man. There is nothing to fear from him."
"I'm not afraid of him," Onara said quickly, but her heart was racing. In truth she was afraid, very afraid, but she did not want her father to know that.
K'lia smiled warmly at her. "I am glad to hear that. You are as brave as your mother was."
"Thank you, Father. But, please, listen to me. The blessing ceremony is nothing more than an archaic ritual. It has no basis in scientific fact. Therefore, there is no reason for me to go through with it."
K'lia's kindly face settled into a heap of puzzled creases. Onara was well aware her father did not put much stock in her modern ideas, but as she moved closer to him, she desperately hoped appealing to logic would sway him from forcing her to go through with the ceremony.
"My research of the ancient records at the Cloister," she went on, her voice throbbing with conviction, "proves that the ceremony only came about because long ago some Dynast decided he wanted to be the first to sleep with young brides. He had his priests concoct this nonsense about the fecundity supposedly invested in a Dynast, or some other high-ranking male, and how that power could be transferred to the bride once he had lain with her. The blessing ceremony is nothing more than an excuse for dirty old men to lie with young virgins!"
"Blasphemy!" a voice cried from behind Onara. She turned quickly and her heart thudded in her chest.
Onara's grandmother stood in the doorway to Onara's chamber. The Lady Tsara wasn't a tall woman. The top of her head barely reached Onara's shoulder and Onara was not very tall herself, but the elderly woman was a formidable presence. Eyes as black and hard as ebony blazed in her wizened face as she advanced on Onara, her twin daughters trailing in her path.
The faces of Onara's aunts were just as wrinkled and merciless as her grandmother's. All three were dressed in the flowing black and gold ceremonial robes required for their roles as arbiters of the blessing ceremony. Lady Tsara stopped in front of Onara, her thin, wrinkled hands clasped over her stomach. She glared up at her granddaughter then turned her piercing gaze towards her son.
"I have warned you, K'lia. You have terribly spoiled this child. She has gotten away with everything from the day she was born."
Lady Tsara glanced over at the shards of the broken vase on the floor. Her wrinkled lips twisted with disgust as she shook her head. She turned back to her son.
"It's bad enough she's inherited her mother's stubbornness and frivolity," she went on sharply, "but you compound her transgressions by ignoring them. Now, you stand there and say nothing as she blasphemes."
Tsara then looked over at Onara and her eyes, if it were possible, grew even sharper and more reproachful.
"It's not blasphemy, Gran---" Onara began but her grandmother abruptly cut her off.
"Silence, you sinful child! I will hear no more of your sacrilege." She turned and gestured towards Onara's aunts. "We have come to prepare you for the ceremony."
Onara lifted her chin, but even as she tried to gather the strength to defy the woman who had terrified her since she was a child, she knew it was hopeless. No one, not her, not her father, not the other Dynasts, no one alive, or possibly dead, could stand up to the Lady Tsara and hope to prevail. She was as powerful as a winter storm and as relentless as death. Onara anxiously turned to her father for one last appeal, but Lady Tsara waved brusquely at him.
"Get out, K'lia. We have work to do."
K'lia looked helplessly over at Onara, then sighed heavily and, his bent shoulders even more rounded, left her alone with her aunts and grandmother.
"Father, please," Onara cried after him but he was gone.
She looked back at her grandmother. She saw no pity in those jet black eyes.
"Ungrateful, selfish child," Tsara snapped, hurling the words like missiles. "You're just like your mother. All you think of is yourself."
"Stop talking about my mother," Onara cried, naturally defensive of the mother she had never known. "She wasn't like that at all. Father says she was gentle and kind."
Lady Tsara snorted. "He was blinded by his lust for her."
"No. That's not true. She _was_ good."
"And how would you know? She died when you were born. However, despite the fact she had no part in your upbringing, you are exactly like her. Spoiled and selfish."
Onara felt the familiar burning in her chest. Her grandmother was always comparing her to her mother, telling Onara she had been a vain and frivolous woman who had seduced and bewitched her only son. However, her father told Onara she favored her mother, but he always talked about how beautiful and charming and spirited she had been.
Onara did not think herself particularly beautiful or charming, but it pleased her that her father thought she was spirited for in Onara's mind that was exactly how a modern girl should be. Regrettably, her grandmother did not see it that way. She was very old-fashioned and bound to the Ahjane traditions, and in her mind the blessing ceremony was one of the most sacred of those traditions. And with that thought, Onara watched with a heavy heart as her aunts bustled about her chamber, preparing for the ceremony.
"You should be honored," her grandmother said to her. "One of the fabled Jedi Knights will take your virginity and ensure the continuation of your family line. Any Ahjane bride would be grateful for such a privilege. The Jedi are not only powerful warriors, they are directly connected to the Force. Think of it! As a result of your lying with the Jedi, such power he will pass on to you. You will then, by your husband, give birth to strong daughters and sons who will ensure that our family and our province will continue to be the strongest on Ahjane."
Onara frowned, even as she blushed at her grandmother's more salacious comments. It was that kind of boastful talk regarding the noble houses of Ahjane that had led to the war in the first place and millions had suffered and died because of the pride and hubris that her grandmother was displaying.
Onara didn't care about ensuring the strength of her family or her province. She only wanted to return to her quiet life at the Cloister and finish her studies. But it was no use telling her grandmother that. She had thought Onara's father horribly misguided for letting Onara attend the Cloister in the first place. Lady Tasara considered it most improper for a high-born woman to sully herself with something as unnecessary as an education.
"Grandmother, I don't even know what this Jedi looks like," Onara said. He had been at the wedding feast, but she had not been able to see anything under the layers of veils she had been required to wear as part of her wedding attire.
Lady Tsara sniffed contemptuously. "What matters that? He is a man and in the dark they all look and feel the same."
Onara blushed again. The thought of sleeping with any man, much less a Jedi, made her feel suddenly dizzy. Although she was eighteen, she had never even been kissed. It wasn't that she was unfamiliar with the mechanics of sex, but reading about sex was one thing, having it another.
Lady Tsara's thin, creased lips twisted into a mockery of a smile as she peered up at Onara's face.
"You blush," she said slyly. "Well, that is what we are here for, your aunts and I. To prepare you for what awaits you."
Onara shook her head, but stopped when she saw her grandmother's painted-on brows lowering toward her eyes.
"You _will_ go through with the ceremony, Onara," Lady Tsara snapped, her black eyes blazing. "I will stomach no more of your willful disobedience! You will not disgrace this family. You will lie with the Jedi tonight."
Onara gazed at her grandmother for a moment, then slowly nodded, her eyes lowered. She did not want her grandmother to see the defiance that still boiled inside her. Onara knew she had no choice regarding her marriage to Dynast Edress; it was necessary to secure the peace between their provinces. But sleeping with this Jedi had nothing to do with politics or peace accords. It was only her father and her grandmother's outdated belief in the blessing ceremony that was forcing her to go through with it. It should have been abandoned years ago, but it still continued, especially within the families of the rich and powerful.
Onara glanced over to where her aunts were tittering as they laid the blessing gown she was required to wear on her bed. It was the color of starlight and the fabric of which it was made so translucent Onara might as well not be wearing anything. Tears stung her eyes. No, she would not do it. She would not lie with the Jedi. She would find a way to avoid it. Somehow.
To be continued...