Author's Note: I'm back with an update! Sorry, I am still recovering from my wrist injury, so it's taking me longer than what I want to write. To all my grammar fiends out there, my apologies! I try to catch my mistakes but I am no professional. On with the story!
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars. I simply play in their world.
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"Not all warriors
wear metal armours
and
carry swords.
Some wear only a
smile."
-Vinati
I am not surprised to see Elder Chirpa gone, his stall emptied of wares. His enraged face when he caught sight of his apprentice's hand and the following explanation of how he obtained his injury is one I will not forget.
"Let us leave this place. If this is how they treat their foreign guests who have come to do an honest day's work then I will have none of it. There are better places for us to do trade."
"Where will you go, Elder?"
He glances at me and sighs. "East of here, towards Bespin and perhaps catch a ship to home or we may travel to Naboo, we have kin there to visit as well. The taint of King Hux has not traveled so far to their northern shores."
I bite my lip and dare not speak of what the rebellion has found regarding the spread of his influence. I am supposed to be a merchant daughter on her first trip away from Aldea. But I dislike the idea of Chirpa and young Wicket going off without even a hint of warning.
"Wait."
I go back to my stall and rummage through my packs and pull out the woven band of white and blue, the pewter stamp of wings in flight, a star shaped like a sword pointed aloft in between. I grip it tight and hurry back.
"Take this. If you are ever in need, show this to others who wear the same token and you will know them to be allies. Speak my name and they will aid you."
Bemused Chirpa takes the band and it looks comparatively small in his large hands. I fold my hands over his. "Be safe in your travels my friend and also, be wary."
"Maid, I dislike the thought of leaving you alone after you came to the aid of one of my own. Come with us, take yon goods and we will travel back to Aldea together."
I might have laughed, or cried, to see such kindness from a stranger. I was right in giving him the band that marks him as a rebel ally.
I shake my head and take back my hand. "No, I made a promise to my kin."I keep my words lighthearted, "If I go back after a few mishaps I shall have to resign my fate to being married off to one of my father's cronies."
It is a lie but a believable one. I am of marriageable age despite having no designs on courtship.
I scrunch my nose and Chirpa laughs. "A sad fate indeed. Should you change your mind we shall be at the front gate by the first bell of morning. If not, I suggest you make an ally of the errant knight and beg his protection until your business is concluded."
His words shock me, though they shouldn't have. I glance at Wicket, the youngling grinning up at me, unrepentant. Chirpa laid a hand on his shoulder, a reminder they are kin and I bite my tongue before I say something foolish.
"Wicket spoke of the knight's prowess with a blade. A man with such talent is not to be taken lightly."
I had not realized how much of an impact he had on the boy to make the Elder recommend him as my protector. No doubt the boy must have exaggerated his deeds and I find myself a trifle annoyed to think that I am the one in need of protection when I clearly defended them first.
"I...I will think upon it."
"Do so, for it would ease my mind considerably."
Coarse jokes and crude laughter pull me from the memory and I shake my head at my lack of attention. I glanced around the market and realized what has been bothering me all morning. The stalls are practically empty and so are the streets.
"A bad day to be selling wares out here lass. You should be in yon field making a profit or taking in the tourney."
I stare at the speaker, a crude bow strapped to his back. His clothing has seen better days and he is nothing more than a common yeoman. The words of the archer I met just yesterday come back with vivid clarity.
"The archers compete today, correct?"
A brief nod. "Aye, that it is." He hitches his bow more securely about his person. "You'll find no custom save the ale houses and all but the most squalid will be shut down until eve when the winners are announced."
Two fingers to the brim of his leather hat. "I best be off. A hundred gold pieces to the winner and I aim to claim it for my own." A twinkle in his aged face, "Though a kiss from a pretty maid would not go amiss."
I roll my eyes, he is old enough to be my grandfather. "Off with you, least some other young swain beat you to your prize."
A cackle of laughter and he is off and my mind is made up. I shall go to the field, there will be more than a few loose tongues after the ale begins to flow. I will be able to gather information as easily as a child picking wildflowers by the side of the road.
It is not the small voice in the back of my mind whispering I might also learn the fate of my errant knight making it easier for me to abandon the city.
I pack up a small bag, enough to carry without causing fatigue. I must leave my horse behind for the roads will be filled with bodies and the only thing I can expect is a broken forelock if I try to push through.
My premonition comes to fruition as I am but one of at least a hundred people filling the field, waiting for the archery contest to begin.
Time to weave my disguise.
"Bring luck to your favored archer!" I hold up a handful of colored bands, the tokens catching the light and more than a few heads turn in my direction. I am stopped several times by young and old, maid and man, wanting favors. Some for brothers, husbands and lovers. I see, much to my delight, more than a few female archers taking their places on the mark.
I continue down the line, hawking my wares against the cries of the other sellers.
"Get yer beer! Keep the dust off yur tongue!"
"Wooden swords for the younglings! Toys f'all!"
"Meat pies! Pastries! Get yer food before tis gone!"
The din is enough to shatter my eardrums but I keep my voice raised and move onward. A few snatches of conversation but these are common rabble and few things of interest reach my keen hearing.
"Seller! You, maid with the luck bands! Come here!"
I was startled to see an official in burgundy and bronze waving an imperial hand in my direction, the cut of his jewels flashing from slim fingers.
A chill sweeps over my flesh but I make a low bow before him.
"Aye my lord? Is there issue?"
I wonder if I should have brought my chit to show I am allowed to legally sell here. I swallow my apprehensiveness, there is no way this man with his pointed chin and eyes like a ferret could mistake me for a rebel outlaw.
"Follow me and bring your goods."
Bemused I follow after the imperial dog like the good, law abiding citizen I am pretending to be. It seems Lamisu has once more placed a favorable hand upon my shoulder. The official is taking me to the dais where members of the noble's court are seated.
"Is this her?"
A woman with hair like auburn flame with a jeweled band around her forehead glances at me with interest. Her silk robes of palest violet and silver set her apart from the rest of the crowd. She is seated with an imposing man and my eyes immediately glance over to him.
That must be Lord Pruitt.
Dark, golden hair, white wings at his temple and eyes that would not be out of place on a hunting raptor. He wears the colors of scarlet and bronze, a mantle of combed wool around his shoulders with a pin of gold fastened at the left shoulder.
Three raindrops falling upon a blooming flower. The crest of Leese.
I return my attention to the woman with the flowing, auburn hair and eyes of pale starlight. She has been watching me this entire time and I curse myself for allowing my attention to wander.
"What does my lady request of me?"
I drop a formal bow and hear more than a few passing murmurs from the court.
"She is well spoken for a commoner."
"...a rather graceful creature..."
"...eyes like a witch..."
The last comment is not one of my liking. I am well aware my amber eyes are a bit unusual but there is no help for it. Nothing but ignorance to think an eye color denotes supernatural powers.
"My lady-in-waiting has brought me something of interest. Is this your design?"
I lift my gaze and see the band of silver and green dangling from her fingers, the token also of silver and stamped with a pointed arrow. I have a handful of those, along with the more expensive gold with different sigils.
"Aye, my lady, that is mine."
"Do you have others?"
Mild curiosity as to her questioning I give an honest answer. "I have others beyond the archer token."
She beckons an imperious hand to me. "Come here and show me your wares."
"Lady Tinely," the official protests and it is all I can do to keep my composure upon hearing her name, "it is unseemly to allow a mere merchant in your presence. Allow me-"
"No, I wish to see them for myself. Your presence is no longer required Sir Quinn."
Alcesta Tinely, cousin to Armitage Hux. Until he makes a marriage and produces children, she is a candidate for the throne of Alderaan.
So this was the rumored cousin of the bastard king. No one has so much as been able to glimpse this woman for she was always sequestered in Sanctuary or the high halls of the summer palace. If my brothers hadn't insisted I not go with them to the border, I wouldn't have this opportunity.
It would seem Master Kenobi's philosophy on the Force guiding the hand of destiny was not just another story.
This alone is worth all the aggravation I have suffered until now.
"Quinn," a mild reproof sharper than a blade from Lord Pruitt, "do as you are told."
"My lord," a soft murmur from the chastised official, "my lady." A low bow as he backs away and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
My shoulder blades itch as if waiting for the prick of a dagger. I have made an enemy of Sir Quinn this day and he will not forget this slight if I am any judge of character.
It is well I shall be gone from this place two days hence.
"Come merchant, so we might conclude this business."
Lord Pruitt sounds far more bored than aggrieved but I still approach with wariness.
"My lord," I dip another bow and set my pack on the lowest step of the dais to pull out several more bands, all silver and gold tokens, "my lady. Does this suit?"
The fact I must keep a civil tongue in my head among these nobles is like acid crawling down the back of my throat. My fingers itch for a blade, to call my vines and strangle every single one of these high pampered nags and their sycophants.
Goblets of red gold filled with wine, platters of fresh fruit and sweetmeats for the ladies, constantly replenished by a servant at hand. I have seen from here to the borders of Cloud City the starved faces of children, the smallest graves that should never have been dug.
Of husbands who have lost limbs to the macabre pleasure of a lord on some pretext of 'justice'. Daughters and wives raped by the village guardsmen while marauders kill those who venture too far from home without a proper escort.
All for these people to live a life of leisure. It sickens me to be near them but I plaster the false smile upon my face and bow my head.
All for the great rebellion whom relies on me to win this war.
"Closer girl."
I grit my teeth and hold onto my smile by inches as I am practically on my knees before the woman, offering up the bands for her pleasure.
"Hm," she taps her nails on the chair, "I see no colors of Leese, or of the royal line, in your selection. This oversight does not please me."
Damnation. I should have prepared better but I had not expected the nobles of Leese to take interest in my wares.
"Forgive me, my lady." I bow so low my head is nearly touching the ground, "I dared not presume such colors. My stock is for the common people, I dare not give thought so grand a lady would favor my wares."
"Do you have the colors in your pack?"
"Aye, my lady." I had an array of ribbon and tokens if a patron wished for a custom piece. I would portray a poor merchant otherwise.
"Show me."
Her arrogance gives rise to my temper and I throttle it ruthlessly as I lift my head and dig through my pack, pulling out ribbons of azure, teal and ocean blue. Blood-orange red, gold and true scarlet. Hints of midnight black.
Token stamped in silver and gold. The fractured sun in gold, along with crossed swords gripped in a raven's claw. Embossed flowers of blooming Dathomir night-lily, Naboo water-rose and Aldea's own winter nigelia.
"I want one scarlet and black with the sun of the empire to be given to the winner of the tourney. Give me two of azure and gold. One with the arrow, another with the falling star and as for the third..."
A cruel smile upon blood-red lips as she plucks the raven's sword from my pile of token, "This I shall personally bestow upon my selected champion. Ribbons of purple and scarlet."
"As my lady wishes." I murmur and bid a farewell to my afternoon of gathering information. It will take me most of the tourney to complete the task, "I shall take my leave-"
"No. You shall stay. It is not often we have the lower class join us. It will be amusing."
How I would love to throw the goblet of wine in her proud face as the other nobles snicker at her pretending largess of allowing me to stay. These people do not see me as human, but a mere plaything for their entertainment.
"Give thanks to Lady Alcesta, lest I take offense."
I glance up at Lord Pruitt who is no longer looking bored and quickly abase myself before I draw even further unwanted attention.
"My lady, I thank thee most profusely for allowing this humble seller to be graced by your presence."
I nearly choke on the words.
It is well neither Poe nor Finn are here for they would laugh themselves sick to hear such prattle.
"Rise, merchant, and begin your task. Do it well and I shall give twenty gold coins as payment."
The amount is staggering and yet she could have offered me a hundred and if I had the choice of taking payment or walking away, I would choose to walk and thumb my nose in the process.
But I have no choice. At least with the payment I shall be able to buy more supplies for Rose and the crossbow for Finn.
"At once, Lady Tinely."
"Lady Argan, fetch a cushion for the merchant so she might sit comfortably. There," she points at the top step not far from where she now sits, "shall be your place."
Despite the mockery of the nobles she had adopted a new pet, the view is to my advantage. I shall be able to see the entire field from my perch.
A slight curve of her lips and I repress a shiver and gratefully take the cushion one of her ladies provides. Seeing her gives images of a snake lying in wait among leafy vines. Concealed and innocent looking until it drops down to strangle one around the neck.
I begin weaving my bands as I look upon the field as the herald calls the archers to take their mark.
Seventy archers step up to the line, many of them common yeoman, hunters mostly but there a few who sport nobler colors. Hints of sapphire and yellow among the drab browns, greens and blacks.
"Archers take your mark...aim...fire!"
The twang of bows like a chorus as arrows find, or miss, their targets. The sun beats down and I see more than a few remove their leather hats to wipe the sweat from their brow.
Officials walk among the lines, tapping those select few who made a clean shot and removing those who lost. Seventy is whittled down to fifty and the first of my bands is nearly complete. Azure and gold, the silver stamp of an arrow in flight.
My fingers cramp from twisting the cords repeatedly and I massage them before returning to the task.
My eyes sharpen as the competitors begin to thin down. Before seventy was far too many to keep an eye on, fifty no better. My second band is nearly complete when fifty goes down to twenty and I note a singular archer dressed in unrelieved black, his hood covering the entirety of his face.
He, for I can tell by the broad shoulders and line of his stance the archer is male, is the only one left to wear the unrelieved color.
Quiver and arrow, down the graceful line of his drawn bow is encased in ebony.
I watch, my task forgotten, when he takes his mark and the arch of his arrow draws a straight flight and hits the heart of the target at seventy-five paces from the line.
He, among ten others, made the difficult shot. A whisper in the Force, calling my attention to his person.
Who are you, raven archer?
I hear the ladies behind me murmuring to themselves over him as well.
"...such strength..."
"...mind a lesson from the dark archer..."
"...who is he..."
"Silence."
The ladies immediately go quiet when the king's cousin cuts through their speculation.
"Merchant, have you finished your task?"
Reluctantly I take my eyes away from the dark archer to answer.
"Nearly complete, my lady."
I turn and hold up two of the woven bands, the azure and gold.
"You are efficient, I will say this much. Bring those to me."
I gather my skirts and kneel before the lady, offering her the trinkets. I will never fathom the mind of a noble, no matter how much I try.
"Yes, these will do nicely." She sounds bored as she tosses the bands I made to her nearest lady-in-waiting and she hastily catches it before it can drop to the ground.
"You have been watching the competition, tell me, whom do you favor to win?"
I glance at her, surprised to be asked such a question. I should be well-nigh invisible to this woman, another servant going about her business.
She is far too discerning, I must be wary around her. Could she be the spymaster we have not been able to find among Hux's court?
It wouldn't be the first time a woman has been the power behind the throne.
"Answer the lady, you mindless girl."
A growl from Lord Pruitt and my dislike for the man grows with each passing second. He is old enough to be her father and yet I see the way he keeps her close, the slight brush of his hand as he passes on a sweetmeat or a cool goblet.
"Gentle, Lord Pruitt, let her speak her own thoughts rather than the ones you think I should like to hear."
The soft rebuke in her accented tone almost makes me smile. She is aware of Lord Pruitt's desires and she both feeds and fends them off in equal measure.
"Rise, merchant, and speak."
Gratefully I get to my feet, tired of scraping and bowing and turn my head to glance at the line of men now forming.
My eyes stray to the archer in black, he and one other do not laze about the line waiting for the next target. They are as still as shadows, watching...and waiting.
The other is the man I met yesterday, the one who bought the sparrow token for his wife to wear.
"A difficult choice," I murmur softly, "and too early to decide. Though yon hooded archer and the fifth from the end both have good odds of winning."
"A keen eye for one who sells trinkets for a living."
A whisper in my blood, as if the trees in the distance speak of warnings only I can fathom and I turn back to the lady. She is watching me with those amethyst eyes, the smile she wears as cold as the northern kingdom of Hoth.
I have, in my nightmares, seen the same smile upon Armitage Hux as he slaughters my people.
My fingers ache for a blade but I force them to remain loose and merely tilt my head as if in confusion.
"Have I said something to offend you, Lady Tinely?"
"No. Bring your cushion and sit at my feet."
I can do nothing but obey and again the image of a snake winding around my throat grows more vivid in the back of my mind. I drop the cushion and sit at the edge of where her dress ends and the dais shows through.
"Archers...five steps forward, the rest remain behind!"
I watch, nearly holding my breath when the dark archer steps up to the line. My fingers weave the third band, scarlet and black, as he takes his mark. I have yet to see his face, his body aligned so his back is to all of us.
There is no movement of his that is wasted, no flash to draw the crowd, no showmanship to win the nobles.
He is fixed on the task ahead. I doubt he hears anything but the wind and the song his bow sings to him.
This was no mere yeoman trying his luck at winning a hefty prize. This man has been trained well and I wonder under whose banner he serves. His clothing is well worn but of good quality and not the type a poor farmer or even a hunter could afford.
I watch, mesmerized as his arrow takes flight, arcing into the air as the targets are set at hundred paces. I cannot help but raise my voice in appreciation when he pierces the heart.
Three miss the red entirely and the fifth just barely glances the edge.
The black archer and the one who hit the edge are tapped, the others dismissed.
Fingers slide into my hair and I jerk my head, my braid caught in the grip of Alcesta. Jeweled eyes staring down and I feel like a sparrow in the eyes of a cobra.
Afraid to move lest I be caught and devoured.
"You have such lovely hair."
I must be mistaking the sexual heat I see when she gazes at me, the soft purr in her words. Her grip tightens and I swallow hard, forcing platitudes past my frozen lips.
"Thank you, my lady."
My voice sounds different, far away and detached. I am used to men flirting with me, trying to get me into their bed when it suits their needs.
A woman's attention is something I have never encountered and I do not like it.
She lets go of my hair, "Finish your work," soft laughter like steel being driven into flesh, "so I might reward you." She snaps her fingers at me. "Tell me your name, I am curious to hear it."
I would rather give you the edge of my dagger than hand you my name.
But to refuse is not something I can do, not with so many eyes upon me.
"I am called Rey...Lady Tinely."
"Where do you hail from?"
"Alcea, hard by Dathomir Forest."
"So you live in the heart of Alderaan." A frown of displeasure quickly lifted as she looked back at the field, "No matter. Continue your weaving, I want those tokens before the archers finish."
I nod and turn away, tilting my head as if to catch the light but it leaves my long braid trailing over one shoulder so she cannot easily grab it without being obvious about it.
A small defiance but one I will chance.
A murmur of quiet conversation between Lord Pruitt and Lady Tinely but my concentration is shaken too much. I catch but a handful of words. A roar from the crowd and I snap my head up to see the archer from yesterday pierce the heart. All four of his competitors only hit the white and are disqualified.
Lord Pruitt gets to his feet and I hastily pull my skirts out of the way before he can trod upon them.
"Archers, well done!" His voice carries beyond the dais to the crowds below. "Seventy down to three, the best there is. Take a well deserved break and return anon on the fifth bell. Fail to do so and you will be disqualified. Good luck and-"
Lady Tinely sweeps past me, resting a hand on his elbow.
"A moment, Lord Pruitt."
I see his face tighten in displeasure for but a fleeting moment. "I bow before your grace. Archers bend a knee before the princess royal!"
All three drop to the grass, heads bowed and still I have not glimpsed the face of the archer dressed in black.
"Good men, I applaud your skill and offer you this prize in addition to the one hundred gold pieces. The winner shall be awarded a special token and take his place in the Autumn Hunt with his majesty, King Armitage Hux. There you shall have the chance to fell the rare beasts of Dathomir."
The crowd is deafening, such a gift for a common citizen is unheard of and yet my soul grows colder for it. I had not known, until this moment, the Autumn Hunt would be in Dathomir. In years gone by it has always been in the city of the Summer Palace before returning to the capital.
I must warn the rebellion quickly. The Autumn Hunt is only over a month away.
If we could find the exact location of the hunting grounds...infiltrate their ranks...then maybe by the Force and the old gods, we could set an ambush for Hux and end this war. There were so many ways 'accidents' could happen on an open hunt.
So caught up in my own plans I nearly missed the last of the decrees.
"...the rest, I offer a place in my household among my personal guard. Such skill is not meant to languish on the borders. Go," she thrusts out an imperial hand, "and take your rest. Luck to you all, by the blessing of King Hux!"
She turns back, the sweep of her body closes in on my vision and when she passes by the archers have disappeared off the field.
Disappointment, keener than a blade, slices through me to not be able to see the black archer. It is strange why I am so fixated on seeing his face. But there was something about the way he shot his arrows, the stances he took that teased a memory.
As if I had seen it all before.
No matter, at the end of the tournament he will have to reveal his face to claim his prize.
No doubt he was someone I have never met.
No doubt...
