Disclaimer: I own nothing! I just like to borrow them all once in a while and rearrange the pieces.

Author's note: Huge thanks to my Beta, Mistress of the Knight, without whose support there would be no progress. Go check out her story Winding River, leave her a review, I hear it makes her positively elated.

Sheydra is taken from the deleted scenes of Serenity, as I will be using the movie as I see fit. Some of the dialogue is also taken from the deleted scene with Sheydra and Inara. The girls of the house are my invention; they would be about 13 to 15 years of age.

Reviews are desired above all else in the world, they set my little heart a-flutter and make my world a better place.

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Chapter 2 – Confession

Sheydra's Training House – Outer Rim

Inara Serra finished the first part of the lesson and having tasked her class with writing a small composition leaned against the frame of the portico and expelled a sigh. The wind swirled her skirts around her bare feet and tussled her dark hair. It cradled her entire being in its frantic dance and she stood there, the eye of the storm.

Her beguiling eyes rested on something invisible in the burning line of the setting sun and her lips parted involuntarily to curve into a rueful smile. She did not know where that particular smile had come from, but since the day she left Serenity it seemed to find its way onto her face. The room behind her was quiet except for the syncopated scratching of quills on parchment. Half turning, she surveyed the intently bent forms of her students as they laboured over their lesson. They were so precious to her, these young women who had chosen this life for themselves. She was not sure that she agreed with their choices, but that may be because she had never been given a choice. That conciliatory smile crept onto her face one more time, this one drawn there by the realisation of how the world has changed since her self-imposed exile from the Sihnon. On the other hand, perhaps it was herself that has changed so distinctly that the social strictures she had once found comforting were now nothing more than bothersome tethers.

The scratching of the quills grew quiet and drawn from her reveries by silence she turned fully to face her class. Arranging her face into a brilliant smile, she looked upon the eager faces of her charges. Under her deep stare they lay down their quills and with baited breath wait for her to speak.

"The planets of the Rim differ greatly from the planets of the Core. The people who live there do not."

Noticing the wrinkling of certain noses, she chose to ignore them and proceeded with her lesson.

"Each human being desires the same basic things in life. To be fed when hungry. To be comforted when sad. To know that they are not alone. Just because someone's circumstances differ greatly from your own does not mean that you as people differ. Life on the Rim is harder, yes, but no less so then life in general. Just because the people of the Rim cannot go to the opera nor have vid cards in their homes makes them no less civilised than the people of the Core who have access to those things. If you chose to leave here and travel to see the universe, you will meet many different kinds of people. And one of the most important qualities a Companion must have is to be equally engaging and at ease in the company of a mudder or a minister."

Soft snickers reached her ears. Turning a bit too sharply and sending her skirts flying, she narrowed her eyes on the one who interrupted her. Shamed, the girl bowed her head, but did not look away.

"Would you like to say something, Zenya?"

The girl who had snickered straightened up now and squared her shoulders. He olive eyes twinkled out of a fine face framed by pale gold hair.

"But as a Companion it will be my choice whom to engage. Is that not so?" She spoke with the refined petulance of her age and the social position of her family and Inara was once again struck by the force of her irritation.

"Yes. That is our privilege. But what if you were to meet a great man who would turn out to be nothing more then a bar keep or a clerk?" The girl looked at her as if she had become unhinged.

She knew that what she said would never make sense to this girl, or to many others in the room, but an unseen force had dragged the words out of her before she had the sense to stuff them back down. With a self-disgusted smirk she calmed herself. Inara Serra never lost her cool. If Mal could not make her forget herself, then a group of naïve girls would certainly not get that victory. The thought of Mal made her week at the knees and she had to take a shaky breath to expel the image of him from her mind.

"I do not plan to fall in love with anyone below a Minister's son from the Core." Back in the conversation, Inara smiled sadly.

"I do not believe that I have mentioned anything about love."

Zenya's olive eyes got slightly wider. "But I do want to be married one day. I think that being a Companion is the perfect way to gain knowledge, worldly experience and to meet men who would be husband material. It's all so romantic!"

Her mystified expression told Inara that this had always been the plan, that this is what she believed being a Companion meant. She considered breaking the girl's bubble, but someone else would do that for her. Such things are inevitable.

Zenya's friend, a petite brunette with eyes almost the same shade as Zenya's looked up at Inara.

"What about you, Ambassador?" Inara tilted her head in question. "What about me?"

The brunette smirked curiously. "Do you think being a Companion is romantic?"

All she could do was look incredulously at the girl. She tried to answer, but another voice, belonging to a girl she could not name piped up from the back.

"They say that you fell in love with a pirate…"

Several pairs of curious eyes landed on her and she knew that they have been discussing this, discussing her, ever since she had come here. She felt suddenly very naked in front of them and wanted more then anything to wrap her shawl closer around her shoulders. She resisted.

"They do?" Inara smiled innocently and batted her lashes at the girls. They snickered behind their hands and pocked each other in the ribs.

More then anything she wanted to rage at the weakness of her resolve. This mere hint at her past, just a millisecond of thought devoted to Mal set off the storm within her. Her head would not clear. Her body would not obey.

Another question drew her out of herself and she was thankful to the girl. "They say that he was handsome and ruthless and that he loved you madly and wanted you only for himself. He begged you to give up being a Companion to be with him. You would not. And so you left, leaving your bereft pirate to roam the skies in search of you. Is that true?"

Their eager eyes were burning, intent on figuring out all the secrets of the human heart, right then and there. She was not going to shatter their illusions and tell them that most people could not even navigate the currents of their own hearts with great experience. Someone asked something, but she was still trying to steady herself and did not hear.

"Excuse me?"

She tried to focus and met the curious dark eyes from the back of the room.

"Is it true that you left even though he asked you to stay?"

She can hardly see any of them now, the room has become clouded and distant and all she feels is overwhelming sorrow. A word escapes her, but she is hardly aware of what it is. "Nooooooo." She wants to run away or hide, or take a look at her vid cards, the ones from Serenity, the ones she keeps hidden in her trunks and pretends are out of her mind. But she is saved this time by the opening of the door and the blessed appearance of Sheydra. Compact and fair, Sheydra is her guiding light, helping her navigate the murky passageways of her heart. Going towards that light, towards Sheydra, means coming out of the gloom and she follows that thread of hope. The girls rise one by one to bow to the Mother of the House and exit the class. They turn to look back at Inara with curious smiles, and run out giggling, surely headed to tell more of their friends.

As the last girl is gone, Inara's hand climbs involuntarily to cover her mouth and she just sinks to the ground, a ribbon of silk cast on the wind.

As she is rushing towards the ground without any sense of time and reality a sob so deep wells up inside of her that it comes out a ragged breath. On the ground, she rests her palms against the cool wood floors to steady herself. She wipes the tears rolling down her cheeks, tries to say something, but only her hands flutter, up and down, two helpless birds trying to remember how to fly. Sheydra's arms are comforting around her. Calmed and stilled, she lets herself inhale and exhale, testing herself.

"You should not let these rumours get to you like that." Sheydra's voice has that fantastic quality of being at once commanding and reassuring.

Inara's genuinely confused eyes rest on the quietly resolved face of her friend. "Which rumours would these be, exactly?" There is an edge to her voice, a steely sharpness of a quivering bow about to be launched.

"The rumours of your great romances across the universe."

She cannot help herself, Inara snorts.

She knows this is a most unladylike noise, but it just comes out.

"Romance?" She is testing the word out; because it is not one she uses often nor is comfortable with.

Sheydra's sapphire eyes look deep into Inara's own and a faint smile touches her lips. "Well, yes. You're a figure of great romance to them."

The words are meant to be light and sweet, but in Inara's state of mind they become something far too ugly. A mockery almost, of all that she relinquished.

"Romance has nothing to do with being a Companion. You should know that better than anyone."

Patting Inara's shoulder, Sheydra gets up; trailing the long sleeves of her gown on the floor and comes to stand at the portico. Half turning to Inara, a mischievous smile twitching her lips, she cannot help but grin. "Well, I'm not the one who had an affair with a pirate."

"A who? With a what?" Inara is almost choking the words, unable to control her rising desire for maniacal hysteria.

Sheydra's velvety chuckle dispels the mood. "It's the talk of the house. You know how the girls are. Remember yourself at that age."

Inara does remember and fondness floods her for an instant, until she remembers what they are talking about.

Her fine dark brows knit together and something akin to a scowl darkens her face. "I did not have a pirate."

Her voice comes out shaky and the tears threaten again and just as she thinks that she might cry; Sheydra's kind arms are holding her again. "Hush, little sister…"but Inara's tears are already soaking the front of Sheydra's dress. Why did you leave him if you love him so?"

The question just spurns more tears and soon Sheydra is holding a sobbing Inara in her arms.

Inara is crying like her tears will flood the world. And maybe they could.

She is crying for herself and her broken heart.

She is crying for Mal and his crooked sense of honour.

She is crying for Zoe and the child she dreams of.

For Walsh and his fear that one day, his wife will not come back from a mission.

For Simon and his devotion.

For River and the confusion of her mind.

For Kaylee who is pure of heart in a heartless world.

For her childhood, that never existed.

For Jayne… on second thought, no, she is not crying for Jayne. She cries without noticing the time passing by and she does not notice when she begins to tell her tale to Sheydra.

Does not notice until the first time his name falls onto her tongue and she savours it for a long time. By the time she gets to the end of the story, having omitted the necessary parts, she is barren of tears and able to hold herself together. Sheydra's hand it brushing her hair and the repetitive motion is terribly comforting. The story ends and Sheydra's movements carry on, lulling Inara to sleep.

Thinking her asleep, Sheydra's voice is gentle, "Why did you not stay, little sister?"

Eyes half closed, lips parted, breathing slowed almost to the point of sleep, she answers quietly before slipping into the blessed oblivion of unconsciousness. "He didn't ask."

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