BREATH OF NIGHT

Cascadia

See prologue for notes and disclaimer.

Thanks for the reviews, Athena Leigh, Kiyral Ygant, SilverSeer, and JediPadawan. I hope this chapter will clear some things up. :o)

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CHAPTER 10~In the Bleak Midsummer

The young Dimisfreen watched a seed pod spin lazily as if fell through the air and settled on the ground before him. Ruliph trees grew in great numbers because of their abundant seeds that drifted from the trees. Often whole forests sprang up within years from a single one. He sat under one now, pondering how things changed quickly. Sometimes so quickly that they were out of control and nothing could be done to stop it.

He may have been young—a young man, actually—but he knew as well as the Kingdom's High Priest when danger loomed on the horizon. And the strange pale men would bring nothing good. He had seen how Loresce had become confused and lost her focus because of one of them. But he cared for her. Cared for her as much as if she were his sister.

And he had no intention of letting her suffering continue.

~*~

For a moment, Loresce let her gaze travel to the window. An evening mist had begun to fall, just like on many other summer days beside the tumultuous Hibrian Sea, where storms often rolled inland, drenching the landscape in cool showers and washing the air in sweet natural fragrances. She sat at her dresser, combing her long crimson tresses out before going to bed.

Oh, what a foolish mess she had made, she thought as she paused and gazed at her reflection in the mirror that glimmered darkly silver before her. Of all her attempts to save her kingdom from financial ruin, none had proven so ill thought-out and clambered at her heartstrings, as did the one now trembling by her indecision.

Obi-Wan was a good man and had never deserved such torment as she had brought to him, never should be made to hurt from anything. And as it was, if he had not killed in his next fight, her uncle would have taken his life for his disobedience. All because of her. She had heard the King discussing the coming deed with a personal advisor the night before the scheduled fight.

It would not have bothered her so, she had to admit, had not the young man enchanted her. Over the course of a few thrilling days, she had watched him from a terrace as he sparred, glistening in sweat from the intense exertions, then initiated conversations with him, learning more about his personal tastes—such as dark cocoa-cream covered in cherian berries and rubia syrup being his favorite desert, his passion for Seytorian poetry, Tiquriekh string music, and the fact that he loves the bright glitter of sunlight on summer rain. She had no idea what some of those things were, but Obi-Wan had provided several examples of the poetry. All she could remember was the beauty of the words and the unforgettable sound of Obi-Wan's voice as he recited them.

Over days, the conversations had grown more relaxed, Obi-Wan willing to offer more information, until she found herself falling for him. She had never meant for that to happen, but he had been like a magnet, drawing her to him as often as she were able to find him. He had not shown any signs of contempt toward her—although he had surely guessed at her initial trickery and the reason he was in this predicament.

Then, when she had tried to force him into a relationship with her on the eve of his kidnapping, she belatedly knew that she had made the biggest mistake of all. But the only way she knew to save his life would be to tell her uncle that she had sold him to another. A disobedient slave—no matter how able to fight in combat—would be of no more worth to the laws of Thralage. Her uncle had been surprised, to say the least, even a little upset that she had done so without his permission. But he had quickly dropped the matter and turned to more pressing business when he learned that Loresce had lined up a talented replacement.

She admitted she would probably have not tried to do it on her own, but with the help of Jalin, her male childhood friend, she had easily overcome Obi-Wan while he slept and taken him to the islet. Only a couple of guards had seen them take the young man out of the mansion, but they had been told that he was going to his new master.

When a quick flash of lightning in the distance blinked through her window, Loresce looked once more to the light patter of droplets on the windowpane and remembered the first day she had talked to Obi-Wan after he had been so shocked to learn what he had unknowingly agreed to.

Obi-Wan was a fresh breath of life that had touched deep inside her. His gentle presence had wound its way into her heart—despite her intentions. She felt a little crazy about the whole thing, and wondered if she was even thinking clearly anymore. It may simply be fascination, but she only knew that he made her feel more alive, and more alone. It had not taken long to realize that. . . .

She was caught in the rain. The heavy downpour had blown in from the sea suddenly and showered the vast garden where she had been gathering flowers to place in her bedchamber. Amid the falling droplets, she made for the nearest arbor, one hand clutching the flower basket, the other shielding her eyes from the rain.

As soon as she ducked under a trellis heavily draped with vines, Loresce plowed into something solid and turned eyes filled with surprise to whatever—or whomever, in this case—was now clutching her arms lightly to keep them both from falling down from the collision. She blinked with embarrassment and stepped away from the young man that she had seen take his new position as gladiator only that morning.

"I'm . . . sorry," she said politely, and glanced around the little shelter for a better place to stand out of the rain, while not remaining so close to Obi-Wan.

"There's not much room in here," the padawan remarked after seeing her look past him.

Loresce sighed impatiently. "What are you doing out here?"

"The guards won't let me in," Obi-Wan informed her calmly. "They said I have to remain in the courtyard until noon." He paused, then added, "they would let you in, though, I'm sure."

"I don't want to get anymore wet than I already am."

Obi-Wan looked her over. "I don't think it would be possible to be any more drenched than you already are."

"Nor would it be for you, either," Loresce pointed out, and noticed the way the rain had soaked him, his hair dark and damp with twinkling droplets. She almost smirked when she noticed he shivered slightly and crossed his bare arms, trying to retain some warmth. He was dressed in the leather trousers and open vest that he always trained in. A rumble of thunder pealed overhead, as the storm grew more violent.

Gray rain fell like a misty veil around them, in effect, leaving them cut off from the rest of the garden. Draped and entangled about the arbor, a verdant vine was heavy-laden with cerulean janumia blossoms that nodded and sparkled with tiny droplets, the silken clusters' delicate fragrance thriving in the summery rain-scented air. It seemed that they were alone here, that all else was nonexistent beyond the confines of the arbor.

Obi-Wan spoke something that was swallowed up in the storm.

"What did you say?" Loresce called over the sound of the sheeting rain.

"I said," Obi-Wan said louder, "it'll be over soon."

Loresce frowned. "How do you know?"

"I just know," he replied with a sparkle in his eyes. He looked back to the rain.

She simply eyed him suspiciously and returned to staring at the spectacle around them. They stood in an uncomfortable measure of silence, save for the sound of rain.

"This reminds me of the bogs of Tekrihya," Obi-Wan said suddenly, quietly.

"Te - krihya?" Loresce sounded out with a frown, having never heard the name before.

"Yes."

"What happened there?" She asked when it seemed evident he was going to elaborate no further.

"My, um," Obi-Wan paused, "my father and I were stuck with only a small tent for shelter. We had to make due for three weeks in that blasted muddy marsh. The rains returning every few hours. Someone was supposed to pick us up, but they got the coordinates wrong and we had to wait forever for them to figure it out."

"You've traveled a lot, and seen a lot of things, haven't you?"

"Yes," he answered, looking at her.

She thought there was something deeper in his gaze, something dark and painful that he held at bay inside himself. But that was gone almost before she could identify it. Maybe it was guilt, she thought with a modicum of regret for using that very same burden to further her own interests.

Just then, a guttural creak bellowed from somewhere in the storm.

"What was that?" Obi-Wan asked, eyes widening fractionally.

"A binophe sea-toad," Loresce replied, slightly amused. "They're quite loud sometimes."

A small smile formed on Obi-Wan's lips, and he ran a hand through his wet hair that now hung limp against his scalp. "I'll have to remember that the next time I hear my father snore and be thankful he's not one of those. Or else I'd never get any sleep."

Loresce laughed and pressed her hand to her mouth.

"I love the sound of rain," Obi-Wan whispered softly.

And Loresce stared at him as if seeing him for the first time.

It felt as if his voice had wound gently, tenderly, around her heart, and tugged. Strangely bright light filtered through the storm and arbor just right and touched his hair, his face, painting him with a lovely glow of tenderness that finally pooled and shone like multi-faceted jewels in his eyes.

But there was an inner beauty, as well, that she sensed in his quiet kindness, the soft-spoken respect in his voice, and his selfless humility. This was no ordinary young man. Standing now so close to him, feeling the warmth of his slender body next to hers, she found herself trembling, her heart pounding out a nervous rhythm, and her breath seemed lost in the restless pattering of falling rain.

Obi-Wan turned to her, breaking her from the spell. "It's about to stop."

Her eyes swept around them, noting the quickly diminishing rain. When she looked back at him there was a glimmer of told-you-so in his gaze.

He winked at her, then headed out into the faint mist without another word. . . .

The rain picked up outside, smudging the deep sapphire sky into a wash of water against the windowpane, drumming incessantly on the roof and pouring down storm-drains.

Loresce blinked, yearning for the full days before she had spirited Obi-Wan away to the tiny islet. A past that surely now lay out of reach for her forlorn heart.

"Loresce?"

She jumped, startled by the sudden interruption to her thoughts, and turned to the visitor.

~*~

Hoping to stave off some of the chill from the pounding rain, Qui-Gon pulled his robe tightly about him and listened to the conversation Dooku was having with the guard at the mansion's gate.

"I'm sorry. You cannot see the King's niece." The guard stood directly before the gate, his voice firm.

Dooku straightened to his full, intimidating height and looked the man straight in the eyes. "You will allow us to speak with her. Privately."

"I will allow you to speak with her . . . privately."

"Now," Dooku added, with more than a trace of confidence, "you will take us there."

"I will take you there."

When the guard turned away, Dooku looked at Qui-Gon with a sly smile. "A solution has presented itself."

They followed the guard through the courtyard, through a set of ornately-carved, wooden double doors, and, after lowering their rain-soaked cowls, up a long staircase that wound around a stone statue of an armored man that stood several stories tall like a sentry in the rotunda.

This section of the house Qui-Gon had never seen. Soft lighting spilled from hanging lanterns and fell across cream walls and slipped down the wooden steps. Qui-Gon stared up at the domed ceiling overhead. Panels of stained glass depicting pastoral scenes, that would have shone brightly with sunlight, looked gloomy and forgotten by the shades of night. Rain splattered upon the roof as a soothing refrain in the otherwise silent circular chamber.

Qui-Gon reflected on how he had chosen not to take this course of action, simply because he had felt that the Force was showing a different way, perhaps wanting to test his faith. Obi-Wan had shown faith in his master's decision, never questioning it—as far as Qui-Gon knew. And, for that, he was proud.

They had already questioned some of the guards the day before—without using any Jedi compulsion. He knew it was sometimes preferable to use the mind-trick on missions to achieve a desired end, and was not averse to using it himself. Whether the Force willed it be handled in this manner or not, Qui-Gon knew that Obi-Wan was destined for more than a slave's life. And maybe this was right.

He had to admit that he had not been himself these past few days. His normally impulsive behavior that centered so much on the Force's will had become slightly adrift and unfocused. Clouds of doubt had fogged his mind and plagued him since his padawan's disappearance. He was in dire need of deep meditation. Yet, for every time he had tried, a thousand worries had surfaced, blowing haze through his thoughts.

Why speak with Loresce? Because the first guard that Dooku had questioned had told them that Loresce had told him to not mention that he had seen her and another man carrying the padawan out a door and toward the beach. He apparently knew no more than that they were taking Obi-Wan to his new owner. So, a talk with the young lady was in order.

When they arrived at a solitary door the guard, Dooku waved off the guard's arm raised to knock and turned to the guard. "You will leave us now. Thank you."

After they were left alone in the corridor, Dooku had removed his lightsabre, before Qui-Gon knew what he was doing, and sliced through the door's knob. The elder Jedi shoved the door in, and both bounded through.

Loresce was seated before a bureau with a young man standing behind her. Both faced them with expressions of surprise. Streams of tears glistened on Loresce's face, and she moved quickly to wipe them away. The young man was tall and lanky, had the pale violet skin and reddish-purple hued hair that all the inhabitants of this world apparently had, and an aquiline nose set between two large eyes of the deepest violet.

Watery gloom drowned the chamber; gossamer silks in a panoply of rose tones draped over chairs and hung loosely from walls. A faint candle flickered nervously on the bureau beside them, the only light save the lingering flush of azure as it faded to midnight through the windows.

"What do you want?" the young man demanded as he straightened up, eyes frosted coldly.

Dooku stepped forward as he slipped his weapon back to his belt. "We are looking for Obi-Wan, and we suspect that you know where he is."

"Why would we know?" The young man demanded with arms crossed.

"We have reason," answered Dooku, in a matter-of-fact voice, "to believe you know of his whereabouts."

The young Dimisfreen started toward them, intent on throwing them out, but Loresce grasped his arm.

His impatience growing, Qui-Gon clenched his fists. "Just tell us where he is," he said, his inflection strangely calm. "We only wish to recover him. Then, you may forget we were here. Whatever has happened, we'll seek no retribution. That is not our way. Please," he let his voice fill with weariness, "just tell us where we may find him."

Loresce stared at Qui-Gon for a span of time. Her lips twisted in a tortured grimace. "Obi-Wan is—"

"Lorie!" the young man interrupted. "Don't! We can call guards and have them banished from the Kingdom."

Loresce was shaking her head. "No, Jalin. We should tell them. Tell them everything. It's the best way - after what you've done." She finished in almost a whisper, eyes filling with moisture once more.

What you've done? The words rippled fear through Qui-Gon. What had been done, other than Obi-Wan being sold?

Qui-Gon moved slowly to Loresce, careful to not provoke the young man, and crouched before her.

"He's gone," Loresce said, sounding lost. A lone tear spilled and ran down her cheek, shining briefly in a flash of lightning.

Qui-Gon swallowed hard and pushed away rising anxiety. "Gone?"

Loresce nodded slowly. "Jalin sold him." She glanced at her companion when he turned angrily away to the window. "I had Obi-Wan safely hidden away, but . . ." She faltered, hairbrush falling from her hand to the floor with a dull clack, and a small sob escaped her before she could compose herself.

Qui-Gon simply waited for her to continue. His mind raced, trying to piece together what he was being told.

Twining her fingers together tightly, Loresce peered up at Qui-Gon. "Jalin thought I would be better off with him gone."

Jalin whirled around to her. "Lorie . . ."

"It doesn't matter now, Jalin." She wiped her face while tears fell anew. "I could never be what he needs. Just tell them."

The tight expression on Jalin's face softened. He turned to Qui-Gon. "She's been miserable worrying about what to do with him," he explained, plainly reluctant. "We were better off before you came. Especially, Lorie." He glanced with affection to Loresce. "And you were nosing around into things you should not. If it was discovered what we had done . . ." He shrugged helplessly. "We would not be so easily forgiven. I had to do something."

Dooku looked at Jalin, eyes piercing, voice commanding. "Tell us who you sold him to."

Jalin's gaze fell to the floor. "It's too late," he said quietly, and placed a hand on Loresce's shoulder, squeezing gently. "He was taken yesterday. To Tuerinsrok," he said, indicating a nearby city. "I assume he'll be put aboard a ship and taken away from the planet. That was what I hoped. I sold him to a space-faring slaver to get him as far away as possible."

"Tell us his name," Qui-Gon softly asked.

"If I tell you," said Jalin, his gaze shifting from Qui-Gon to Dooku and back again, "will you leave us and never mention what we've done?"

Qui-Gon saw fear shadowed in Jalin's eyes, saw his posture tensed and uncertain. He nodded his agreement.

Jalin inhaled deeply. "He said it was Veschith."

Dooku and Qui-Gon searched, but Veschith turned up no leads in Tuerinsrok. Nor anywhere else.

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