Chapter 2
Bright Eyes
Author's Note: I must really like this story at the moment because I take a lot longer to update usually. Anyway, As you can see, like the other chapter, this one is titled with a Blind Guardian Song title. So far all of my chapters have a Blind Guardian title. I find that doing this actually makes me update faster (lol).
A few things to note:
1) The elves and humans originally came from Earth, the Solar System in the outermost tip of the spiral of the Milky Way Galaxy. This story takes place in the second outer spiral along the outer rim of the Milky Way. The races from earth left six-thousand years prior to this story when the sun expanded and vaporized Mercury. Illearia was a wild planet until the elves cultivated it with the mixture of physical labor and magic. Humans once resided in Illearia, but left the planet to become re-acquainted with the human colonies sent out many years prior. While the Republic was being formed Illearia was left well alone until the Sith and Jedi accidentally stumbled there. When the Republic was formed, Illearia was given the choice to join, but they declined. Instead the current elven queen set up a system of ambassadors to go to Coruscant every twenty-years. Professor Laurel Moruni has been the head ambassador to the Republic for the entire time.
2) Professor Moruni has a past that I may or may not write about in a short story or two.
3) This isn't an angsty chapter per say, but there is a lot in the way of an inner war going on inside of Qui-Gon. Belle is a bit willfully oblivious.
Like it? Hate it? DESPISE it? Review and tell me what you think!
Professor Laurel Moruni was bored; very, very bored. It took everything she knew about keeping her attention on incredibly long winded individuals for her to remain attentive. The senate was aggravating, full of complete and total morons. She was in the observation room with Masters Mace Windu and Yoda listening to a particularly idiotic speech about the importance of… damn it she's forgotten!
The red head let out a frustrated sigh after the ten-minute mark hit. This wasn't even a filibuster! She wondered what would happen if she 'accidentally' cast a silencing spell on everyone in the entire room. The resulting chaos would be the best thing that would happen that day.
"You seem impatient, Professor," commented Mace Windu.
She smiled at that. Of course he'd be the first to notice!
"I'm bored, Master Windu," she told him.
Yoda chuckled and asked, "Not to your liking, agricultural regulations is?"
Laurel blinked, her green eyes wide with innocence and curiosity.
"Oh? Is that what they're squawking about?" she asked.
Beside her, she watched as the dark skinned man shake his head in exasperation.
"How is it that you became a professor?" he asked in exasperation.
She smirked, "Easy. I wrote a good portion of Illearia's history."
"Contributing factor, that is," conceded Yoda with no small amount of amusement dripping through his voice.
Beside her, Mace Windu looked distracted by something. She didn't know what it was. She never asked, not anymore. There was never any point in engaging in light conversation with him. He always made certain to bow out of the conversation; determined to keep her at arm's length as a mere acquaintance.
Master Yoda filled the need for her curiosity, undoubtedly noticing it. She always liked the little green man. Beyond the Force, he was always perceptive of others around him and never fully relied on it to reveal everything he needed to know. Master Windu was a lot more high strung, less sure of himself and his powers and his natural ability with anything, to be so observant.
"Feel something, you do. About Master Jinn, it is," stated Yoda as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Laurel's ears perked at that. Was something happening on Illearia that needed her immediate attention?
"Qui-Gon is conflicted with something. I am quite certain it is about the princess, but I cannot see definitely," he muttered.
Worry overcame her suddenly, but Laurel kept her voice even as she asked, "Is something wrong? Is Belle safe?"
Mace Windu fixed her with his brown-eyed stare with seriousness in his eyes.
"I do not sense Qui-Gon in danger. Something is frustrating him and he cannot seem to find a solid answer to his problem," he informed her.
Laurel snorted. That was the problem?
"It's probably my apprentice driving him batty. She is no one he will have ever met before," she said proudly.
Mace was about to offer a retort when Master Yoda said, "Stands to speak, Senator Palpatine does. Concerning elves, it is."
Laurel fixed her eyes on the old man floating around the chamber in his traditional Nubian robes. Her eyes narrowed. Now she was paying attention.
"By the stars, how do you manage to clear your minds like that?" exclaimed the frustrated princess of the elves as she and her two protectors walked back to their rooms from their early morning training.
Qui-Gon smiled at her frustration. It wasn't like she had made no progress. In fact she was a lot calmer now, three weeks into their stay, than she had been. The walls of temper that she used to try and protect herself were falling down and her stubbornness was taking a different turn. There was no doubt about the fact that Princess Bellethiel could now be considered as a passive aggressive person.
"Being able to keep a calm and collected mind while facing frustrations is merely the first step. I'm still not at my master's level your highness," Qui-Gon's apprentice re-assured her.
Obi-Wan and Bellethiel had formed a sort of rivalry friendship that pleased him to no end. The elf-girl didn't have many friends who were younger than her and Obi-Wan helped fill that hole splendidly.
"But, may I point out that I am older than your master and have been attempting to clear my mind for far longer than he?" she asked in a slightly exasperated and slightly teasing tone.
Qui-Gon chuckled, "Experience does not always equal maturity. You have nearly a century of experience in many things under your belt, but you are still in the stages of a young adult. I am middle aged."
She smirked at him, "And yet you do not move in the manner of one in his forties. In fact, I believe that it is safe to say that you are on par with a man of twenty."
Obi-Wan laughed dryly at that, "May I quote my master when he says, 'the Force keeps its masters young'?"
Princess Bellethiel giggled. Qui-Gon liked the sound. It wasn't the annoying high pitched giggle of young girls, but the light, airy, show of mirth from a young woman. Many elf females, he had come to realize, had this interesting little gift when it came to their laughter.
"Obi-Wan, seeing as you are speaking to an elf about aging processes, I must say that the slowing of mortal aging through this Force of yours is not that impressive," she teased while poking him in a hard bicep.
The young padawan scoffed, "Think of it from my point of view, Belle! Not from yours!"
She did. She actually thought about it. Qui-Gon mutely watched as her teal eyes shifted to the currently cloudy sky for a few moments as she considered the scenario in her mind. She smiled and her eyes shown with a bright fire within demonstrating that she understood. She cast an observing glance in his direction.
"Alright, I see now the impressiveness of such a feat," she conceded.
The men chuckled while she giggled again. Qui-Gon felt a slight twinge of fondness for her while he observed her mirth. The first rays of sunlight caught in her disheveled braided hair and made her pale skin glow slightly- a trait he was certain she inherited from her Eduna ancestry. For a moment, he was caught off guard, again, by the pure, natural, beauty.
As interesting as the elves were it didn't stop the two Jedi from feeling rather disconcerted around them. Obi-Wan especially felt uneasy around them. It was the way they interacted with the Jedi that unsettled the two thought more so with his apprentice. The elves' unnatural beauty did not bother him as much save for one bright eyed princess who seemed to nearly melt his resolve with a smile.
Elves, apparently, had emotions and, while they regulated them, there was no need to contain much of what they were feeling. Bellethiel, for instance, could be read like an open book. She was not reserved. If she didn't like something or if something unsettled her in some form or another, the source knew about it. If she wanted some undesirable suitor attempting to woo her before her one-hundredth birthday she told him to go away. It was their openness that made both of them feel out of place, even with the princess.
Another aspect about elven society that sometimes downright alarmed them was their use of magic. It became increasingly apparent after the first week that magic and the Force were not the same thing. For instance, magic did not exist in every living thing whereas the Force did and flowed through all (or so they thought at first). Magic manipulated and changed and there were many aspects of magic that were pursued by the elves.
The magic that went into their clothes, swords and armor happened to be the first things that the Jedi had explained to them in great detail. The metal, Mithril as it was called, was the central ore used in all things concerning armor and weaponry. This metal alone did not need magic to sustain it. It repelled most things. But the elves were a creative species and wove their spells in the metal to shape swords, axes and spears for their use. Guns were not part of their weaponry. When he asked why, Lorn explained to him that elves seldom needed guns when magic was at their disposal.
Then there was the type of magic that the princess was attempting to master; elemental based. She was proficient in fire and air and lightening, but found that earth and water gave her trouble. This didn't surprise him; especially after he learned that the certain base elements of an elf solely depended on their personality. Bellethiel had a chaotic one to say the least. The emotions most commonly showcased were irritation, defiance and friendly sarcasm. The more he observed her the more he could tell when the level of irritation shown meant she was angry; the level of defiance would determine whether or not she could be persuaded to go along with something; the level of sarcasm used determined whether or not she was in a good mood, a playful mood, or bordering on irritation. While there was a certain type of innocence in her countenance that was very charming, he had never seen her sad, angry, or joyful. Even after three weeks, he had figured there would be some indication of those emotions. Based on this, the more aggressive elements came the easiest to her.
Once the princess mastered the five elements she would be able to begin lessons in lightcraft, pure magic that all elvenqueens excelled at and were well known for. The queen, Miriel, told him once while watching her daughter's training with him that her daughter was showing proficiency in the ability to bend light.
The five elements, he later learned, were the basis of elven magic. Each individual elf had their own affinity with an element. Only a certain few could use more than two. Those born of the royal family could manipulate all five. Not even the elves were able to explain that.
With such abilities one would ask why such lowly Jedi were needed to protect the princess of the elves. Sadly, he knew the dark answer.
Qui-Gon felt that, at the moment, the most he and his apprentice were needed for was to become her friends and protectors- people she could rely and depend upon as friends and confidants. They hadn't quite reached friendship, yet. Well, he was certain that the princess didn't view him as a friend. The two of them were more debate and physical/mental training partners than anything else. Obi-Wan, his padawan, was more of a friend to her than he was.
It made sense, the boy was closer to her in maturity, though not age. They challenged each other and confronted each other with little ceremony. But they also got along and spoke of other things besides training and debate (if they ever did so). After the first day Obi-Wan spent as her personal guard the two had bonded in the way a younger brother and a much older sister had. Qui-Gon envied his padawan's ease with her.
It struck him that, in the next week after the princess' coming of age feast, their duty as guards would need to be taken more seriously. Even without the use of the Force, Qui-Gon could sense the growing anticipation of the nobles; especially certain Rhune elves. The fact was bothering her highness, he could tell, but so far the only solution he could think of was to let his padawan distract her with various excursions and interesting mischief they would get up to. Qui-Gon would have thought it too unlike his apprentice to believe that Obi-Wan could cause trouble if he hadn't suspected that the boy was only indulging Bellethiel's need to avoid thinking about the pending influx of suitors and meaningless politics.
I have squandered my time, he thought, I should have made as much progress as Obi-Wan.
He had time to establish something, but he wasn't sure if he could get her to trust him as much as she appeared to trust his apprentice.
Little did he know that he didn't have to concern himself.
The first three weeks with the Jedi were not too bad, Bellethiel found herself thinking repeatedly as she followed Obi-Wan into their common room. Qui-Gon followed silently after her looking as stoic as ever. Mentally she found herself displeased with the lack of emotion he showed around her. The man was always reserved, always that one stubborn rock the sea of life kept battering and refused to even erode. She still wasn't sure whether or not she liked him around at all. He certainly challenged her and took the time to employ that brain of hers- the brain that was full of knowledge seldom used.
"We will meet back in an hour to break hour fast?" she asked though her question was directed more at Qui-Gon than at Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan would always meet her for breakfast. Qui-Gon did not always do so without a request.
"Naturally," answered Obi-Wan.
The padawan was already through his own door to his chambers as he answered and the door clicked shut a moment after. Bellethiel turned her full attention to Qui-Gon with a slight raise of her eyebrow.
"Will you meditate more or will you join us?" she asked.
Qui-Gon met her gaze passively, "Whatever pleases you, my lady, I will comply."
This annoyed her. She knew for certain that this man could think for himself and seldom needed anyone else to give him permission to do something he wanted to do. This formality he was showing her riled her mostly because he was doing what all of the others were doing; waiting for her to decided for him. She glared.
"How about you think on what may or may not please me and come to me when you can divine the answer?" she replied stiffly before whirling off into her rooms.
When her door closed she took a moment to allow her temper to dissipate. She didn't understand what it was about Master Qui-Gon Jin that frustrated her, but she figured she could make a few educated guesses.
I want him to be considerate but bold enough to test things for himself. I don't like this passive Jedi thing he has shown, she thought.
When her anger and frustration abated, Bellethiel moved to her closet to select the dress she knew she would have to wear in court that day. Visiting dignitaries tended to warrant better-dressed princesses.
In all honesty, she couldn't put a finger on why Master Jin's attitude toward her annoyed her so much. She suspected that the man had always been an introvert and her getting angry at him for asking permission to spend time with her shouldn't aggravate her as it did. Yet, she found that when he treated her like he was holding her at arm's length it brought an ache in her that she didn't quite understand. Was it actually hurt she felt? If it was, it didn't make sense. It wasn't like she actually knew the man!
But, maybe it did hurt because of the fact she was well aware that they would be watching over her for a little over a year? Not to mention the fact that he was in a position where the only thing he would never end up doing is watch her sleep. One or the other were with her that often and she figured that it contributed to the throbbing ache she felt concerning Qui-Gon's treatment of her. It wasn't cold or warm, just the same careful respect that nearly everyone else used.
While her mind was occupied with thoughts of her frustrations with Master Jin, her hands and eyes busied themselves with picking out and putting on her dress. Before that she had absentmindedly gathered warm water around her naked form without the use of plumbing or a tub. The bath she was looking forward to would have to come at the end of the day.
The dress she wore was light blue and had short, fluttery sleeves that here there more for decoration than for covering her shoulders. Its neckline scooped in a bowl effect just above her cleavage and showed a fair amount of her upper chest. As she turned to look in her full-length mirror her previous thoughts turned to the state of wear she had on. Her forehead and nose wrinkled with disgust at the sight. The dress' material was almost too light to the point where it would be see-through. Her mother had taken to ordering clothes that were more risky ever since her birth month had drawn to a close.
She sighed and began to undo the disheveled braid her hair was currently in and pull the front of her hair back and out of her face. She wasn't going to bother with anything elaborate that day. She would be sitting in a chair smiling and pretending that the Rhunic nobles entering the castle that day were people she was somewhat interested in.
I almost feel like I'm this trophy that some male gets to win if he pretends to like me enough and buys me nice things, she thought with no little amount of displeasure.
On the other hand, it was rumored that the dwarf king would arrive either that day or the next for her one-hundredth name-day feast and she was looking forward to seeing him. Bellethiel hadn't seen some of the other races since she was a little girl ninety years ago. It excited her that she would be able to see others.
She exited her rooms thirty minutes later and found Obi-Wan sitting on the couch reading. He smiled down at her.
"Master will be joining us shortly, my lady. He's trimming his beard," said the boy.
Bellethiel nodded and sat down in one of the chairs near the fire. Her stomach fluttered as a warm feeling coursed through her. She felt giddy and light headed at the fact. If he was coming then he obviously had an answer to her statement earlier.
"You seem pleased," remarked Obi-Wan from where he sat.
Yes, she did seem pleased. A bit too pleased about this fact and she honestly couldn't put a finger on why that was.
"I just- he rarely dines with us when you are on duty and always goes off to meditate. I am merely- surprised. That is all," she attempted to explain lamely.
From the look Obi-Wan was giving her Bellethiel knew that he didn't quite believe her explanation. Of course she knew that he wasn't going to challenge her on it. He wasn't that secure in their friendship to do that at the moment.
True to Obi-Wan's word, the Jedi Master emerged from his rooms a few minutes later with his beard groomed and in his not-so-formal elven attire. His brown Jedi robes covered him and his apprentice as per usual, but she could tell from the bit of cloth peeking from under the folds of said robe over his chest that it was a forest green tunic he wore. She stood and inclined her head in recognition- determined to act as formal as she could towards him.
No words were exchanged between either party as they walked into the dining hall on the other side of the castle. The three companions walked in silence. For Obi-Wan the silence was calming, but for Bellethiel and Qui-Gon there seemed to be an awkwardness in the air that refused to disperse. She wasn't entirely shocked by this. The tension between the two of them had been growing for months the more he continued to act like a live statue.
When they sat to eat, it was at the head of the table without the queen. Queen Miriel was forced to rise earlier than she usually had to for a meeting with the head leaders of Ylearan and Edunian elves. Bellethiel had voiced her agitation at not being able to see her mother for half of the morning the evening before. The two Jedi sat on either side of her while her uncle sat on the opposite side of the table with-
"Aunt Artemis!" exclaimed Bellethiel with pleasant surprise written on her form.
All frustration she had concerning the older Jedi went away with the arrival of her huntress aunt.
"Hello, Belle," greeted the older elleth warmly.
Belle leaned forward, "What are you doing here?"
Artemis gave her a look, "Why do you think I am here?"
She blinked and sat back with a sheepish expression on her face.
"Oh, right, name-day celebration," she muttered.
Artemis looked over at her Jedi guards and looked to be sizing them up. Belle almost rolled her eyes. Her aunt had opinions about Jedi, she knew, it was why she never went with Professor Moruni to Coruscant.
"How do you like your emotionless guards, Belle? Have they met every robotic expectation we could ever ask for?" inquired Artemis acidly.
Bellethiel sucked in a breath as she winced at the pure poisonous look her aunt shot the Jedi. She wasn't surprised her aunt was less-than-thrilled with their presence. Her prejudice against Jedi was justified though not necessary for the two present.
Qui-Gon glanced at her with a raised eyebrow and Belle smiled apologetically in his direction.
"What do you mean by that?" asked Qui-Gon.
Artemis sat back in her chair with a look on her face that told Bellethiel that the older elleth knew the Jedi understood her meaning and was refusing to clarify. Qui-Gon inclined his head and set his fork carefully on to his plate.
"You are referring to our Code, I believe?" and he was met with a stare.
Lorn rolled his eyes and glared at his sister, "Artie, this isn't the time nor the place."
Artemis sniffed and continued to glare at Master Jinn. After a few moments she made her answer.
"You are not human. Your code does not allow it to be so."
Belle sighed, "Aunt, we are not human either."
The dark haired, blue eyed, woman fixed her gaze suddenly on her niece. It wasn't a hateful or angry gaze, but it was one of irritation and exasperation. Belle winced at the look. Leave it to her aunt to get offended over the presence of two beings meant to protect her.
"We are still beings with thoughts and emotions. We don't try to bottle these emotions up and pretend they don't exist. You take children a few months after they are born and train them with your illogical dogma with this belief that it is the only path to true peace and harmony! And yet you have an interesting turnout of evil bastards seduced by darkness! Again, you train them to be robots without giving them a firm foundation. And then they are easily influenced the moment they begin to question their beliefs!" snapped the huntress.
Lorn placed a restraining hand on his sister's shoulder, "Artemis, calm. These Jedi are not mindless robots and it is unfair for you to refer to them as such."
Belle glanced from Qui-Gon, her aunt, and her uncle with a tenseness about her that she felt whenever her emotions were strained. Obi-Wan, beside her, simply looked confused. She wasn't surprised. Artemis was not an easy person to get along with in the best of times, but when she had a certain prejudice against a person's lifestyle she could be downright nasty.
Her aunt glared at Qui-Gon for a bit longer before standing and taking her leave. Belle winced.
"You, Master Jinn, cannot protect my niece. Not as you are. Not as the person who holds back too much. You will never have the drive or the motivation. You will lead my niece to death!" and with that she whirled away and into the hall.
Lorn sighed and held up a hand to stop Bellethiel from inquiring after her aunt's mood. Even this level of hostility wasn't common.
"Your aunt finished a meeting with the five lords who are the most… adamant about gaining you for their sons. I don't know the particulars of the meeting, but I can guess accurately that there was a certain amount of promise from one of the lords that he will stop at nothing to make you the wife of his son. Artemis wanted one of her own, the hunters and huntresses who know you well enough, to protect you. She feels that our Jedi friends will not have the amount of attachment to you to protect you adequately," he explained.
Belle smiled weakly at her uncle, "I love her, I do, but I think she is blowing this entire thing out of proportion. I'm not in danger."
Lorn sighed, "Belle, you really don't know, do you?"
The conversation agreed to be ended on that note before another argument could break out at the breakfast table. Bellethiel glanced at Qui-Gon every now and then and noted that his emotional walls were built. They made his disposition hard to read which only meant, from what she had been able to tell about him in their short time knowing each other, that her aunt's words affected him more than he was letting on. Obi-Wan, she noted, did not seem troubled and, in fact, looked rather offended.
On the way out of the dining hall Belle placed her small hand against the green of Qui-Gon's elven garb; stopping his exit from her and Obi-Wan's presence. His brown eyes looked questioningly at her with a delicately raised eyebrow. She smiled and made as if to open her mouth, but clamped it shut in the last second. She sighed, squeezed his arm and wished him a good day.
He looked startled as she backed away and headed in the direction Obi-Wan stood waiting for her. Without thinking about why she had tried to give him some comfort, Bellethiel headed in the direction of the audience chambers to meet her mother and the visiting lords. There were some things best left alone.
Qui-Gon stared after his apprentice and the princess unsure of how to take this turn in the elf-girl's relationship. After the first few days she found that she warmed up to Obi-Wan as a kindred spirit of sorts. Where he was concerned, he was never sure. She treated him familiarly one moment and cold and distant the next. He had resolved to not push his person on her and watch from a back seat. Where his apprentice slowly became more attached to the girl, he distanced himself.
Why that was, Qui-Gon wasn't certain. It wasn't like she hadn't made a few attempts to befriend him and he her, but there was a gulf between them where normal familiarity seemed wrong. It was times like these he wished the planet and its people could be felt through the Force. He had never been so blind in his life yet still able to see. He couldn't understand how the elves managed it. There were few moments in his life where Qui-Gon didn't know how to handle a certain situation. This situation with the princess was one of them.
Of course, he could always begin with referring to her as Bellethiel or Belle like Obi-Wan did instead of highness and my lady. Of course, his apprentice did refer to her by those names as well, but there was a certain playfulness in his manner when he did so that put their charge at ease. The relationship built was slightly unsettling. All Jedi teachings seemed to be thrown out the window in regards to the princess. External attachments were not permitted. Obi-Wan was most open to such ideals and he practiced keeping his focus squarely on the Force as his number one priority. It was the way of the Jedi.
Illearia in on itself was a major distraction from the Force. The elves were probably the most distracting with their otherworldly feel and looks, but the princess was even more so. She was so much of a distraction that Qui-Gon felt himself unable to meditate in her presence during their meditation sessions. After a while he resorted to calming himself and reflecting on his life, situation or emotions as they were teaching her to do (it became apparent early on that the princess could not bring herself to meditate). He would meditate out of her presence in his rooms where merely hearing her breathe became a distraction.
This thought gave him some pause. He wondered, as he opened the door to their common room, why simply being aware of her was such a distraction for him. Obi-Wan didn't have such trouble as far as he knew. In fact, Obi-Wan seemed to be able to meditate easily. Qui-Gon resolved that he would speak to his apprentice about the problem later… or maybe not. Where would he begin? He knew it wasn't the fact that the princess was a general elf. He had meditated in the presence of Professor Laurel Moruni many times in his youth when he was a little older than Obi-Wan. He had also recently instructed Lorn in ways to help maintain a calm and collected temper when faced with his headstrong niece.
As he removed his brown Jedi robes Qui-Gon chuckled slightly at that. Lorn probably needed the patience and calming techniques more for his temperamental sister than his stubborn niece. It explained where Bellethiel acquired her temper, at least. He still had yet to place her stubbornness and suspected that it came more from her attempting to emulate her mentor than something inherited.
With his robes neatly folded beside him, Qui-Gon settled onto the velvet couch and removed his boots. When that was done he folded his legs under him and made an attempt to meditate. After thirty minutes he sighed and gave up on the attempt. His mind was too clouded and confused. The chasm between himself and Princess Bellethiel was most if not all of the problem. The jibe at his inability to protect the elleth properly was a smaller part of it.
He stared at the empty fireplace with a frown marring his features. The huntress had meant that for him and not for his padawan. He wasn't surprised. Obi-Wan's friendship with the elf was evident as was his distance from her.
Suddenly he caught sight of something white from the corner of his eye and jumped up in alarm. He relaxed when he realized that the visitor was Ailya, one of the Eldar. The blind seer, because she was apparently blind, stared right through him with her milk-white eyes. He suppressed a shudder. Her eyes were still disconcerting.
"I did knock, but you were too immersed in the attempt at meditation to notice," came the soft, almost raspy voice of the old elf.
Qui-Gon inclined his head, "My lady Ailya, forgive my inattentiveness."
She smiled at him, "I felt no offense. I used the time to study certain instances of the future and the past flowing through my head. Some moments in time are uncertain, but others are set in stone and very clear. I fear that there will be no way to avoid them."
He nodded and motioned for the empty space beside him on the couch.
"Please, take a seat?" he offered.
She nodded once in thanks and moved her tall, but thin form over to the couch. She was as graceful as ever despite her handicap.
"It is the present, however, where I see the most uncertainty and possible danger. This uncertainty revolved around the relationship you do not seem to have with my princess. Nothing seems to be established and, therefore, a certain amount of trust has not been acquired. It is, Master Jinn, trust between the protector and the protected that will make all the difference," she immediately got to the point.
Qui-Gon smiled ruefully at that. As far away from home as he was, it seemed that there was always going to be someone like Master Yoda ready to tell him where his mind was ultimately wrong.
"How can I establish trust between her without building attachment between us?" he asked.
Ailya's stare almost made him shiver as she answered, "You can not. You must form an attachment. There is no other way to better protect her. She must not be allowed to be broken or all will be lost."
"Obi-Wan will surely-."
"Not be enough," interjected Ailya before he could object too much, "I see the future and it is the bond you two will share that makes all the difference. There is no chaos there is harmony. The more you back away from the bond the more chaos you will create. The bond is the harmony. You must establish it."
The conflicted, agonized, look on Qui-Gon's face betrayed the torment rolling within the confines of his mind. He was, in all intents and purposes, a different sort of Jedi who followed a looser interpretation of the Jedi Code. He believed in forming friendships among his fellow Jedi and alliances among those who were not, but becoming so close as to establish a bond between himself and a person he would have to part from in a year or so went beyond the bounds he established for himself. The only bond he kept was the father-son relationship between himself and Obi-Wan.
"What sort of bond is needed?" he asked.
"Protector," she replied simply.
He felt confused as he replied, "I am already that."
Ailya looked amused, "No, you are her guard. You are simply there. You may instruct her on how to calm her temper and practice the art of swordsmanship with her, but you have not earned the bond of protector."
"I am afraid that I do not understand your meaning," he told her.
"Do not lie. You understand. You simply wish to perpetuate denial," she said pointedly.
He sighed and closed his eyes. He didn't need any more close attachments. The few he had brought him close to the dark side quite a few times in his life. There was also the matter of the type of attachment he would form with her. It wouldn't be like the one Obi-Wan had. It would be closer. That much was evident or else Ailya wouldn't be so adamant about its formation.
He felt a soft, comforting hand on his forearm and he looked up into the milky eyes of the seer.
"A mere seer is one who receives flashes of images of the future. A mere prophet receives the future and the word of Eru. I am both. I see all outcomes and am compelled to advise those who most need it. It is the will of Eru that you and the princess form a bond. The type of bond, I cannot say, but I know that it must be formed," she said.
"I don't serve the will of Eru," replied Qui-Gon in a small voice so unlike his normal calm but strong one.
Ailya smiled and stood to take her leave. Qui-Gon was left with a phrase to reflect on alone in the strengthening daylight that filtered through the window of the common room.
"Everything serves the will of Eru, even the Force."
Laurel breathed in and out slowly while taking in the fresh, earthy, scent that were the gardens of the Jedi Temple. The trees were not those of her home world. Those had been destroyed long ago when the elves and humans lived isolated on a different world. She closed her green eyes and allowed the artificial wind to caress her face. It might have been an artificially grown garden in an building in the middle of a city, but it still called to her elven senses like all forest places did. She was first and foremost and elf. Nature would always be her calling and this was about as close to nature as she was going to get.
Her sensitive ears picked up footsteps approaching her from behind and she smiled. She knew who it was.
Knowing that it was best to get the scolding over with, Laurel clasped her hands behind her back and turned to face the dark skinned human Jedi with a smile. Seemingly unaffected by her elven charm and beauty, Master Mace Windu folded his arms and fixed her with a stern look.
"This place is reserved for Jedi only," he told her sternly.
She shook her head, "Mace, I seem to remember having this argument with you twenty years ago. If I recall correctly, I had won it."
He sighed and continued to approach her until he was but a few feet away.
"Professor, why must we have this conversation every time we meet?" he asked.
She was genuinely confused. What conversation? This one?
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said truthfully.
His face seemed momentarily strained, but he hid the emotion expertly as he always did.
"I think you know what I mean," he said evenly.
Laurel raised an eyebrow, "Mace, I am over sixteen thousand years old. I have many different conversations. They all tend to mull together over a period of time. If I recall, we have had many conversations in our lifetime. In fact, we have kept in contact with each other for sixteen years. We talk of many things and I would appreciate it if you would specify."
The look he fixed her with suddenly left her in no doubt about the type of conversation he was referring to. Upon realization she sighed. Why was it that, every time she entered the Temple, everything had to come back to that?
"Mace, for Heaven's sake, I'm not here to renew anything concerning that incident, as you like to call it! I'm here because there are little to no trees on this planet and I happen to like plant life!" she snapped in exasperation.
There was an awkward silence that settled between them. Finally Mace sighed and unwound his tense emotions.
"Forgive me, Laurel, I was out of line," he said softly.
A soft smile graced her lips as she met him squarely in the eyes.
"You never need to ask forgiveness from me, Mace. I always will," she left the sentence open as if to allow him the luxury to finish it himself.
He nodded.
"Qui-Gon is still conflicted," he stated, "and Obi-Wan has formed a friendship. It is my guess that it is with your princess.
Laurel shrugged, "Well, it is nice to know that her royal pain in my ass has at least some charm. Sometimes I wonder at her having any."
He looked exasperated, "An attachment like close friendship is dangerous for a Jedi Knight. I am convinced that Qui-Gon is worried about the repercussions of what such bond could bring, thus the conflict within him."
Laurel crossed her arms and mirrored the look Mace Windu was giving her.
"Even if that really was what Qui-Gon is conflicted about, which I do not believe it is, there isn't much you can do with it. They have to establish some sort of loyalty with her or else they cannot protect her properly," she said with conviction.
He fixed her with a severe look and Laurel almost rolled her eyes. She met elleth and ellon aplenty who could turn, quite literally, melt mithril with their stares! Mace had a long way to go before he could ever intimidate her.
"You know our customs, Laurel. Why did you ask for two Jedi when you know that your princess can't be protected by mere guards?" he asked.
She sighed and closed her eyes. Sometimes, she could feel the weight of her age bearing down on her.
"I gave you my reasons. Master Yoda seemed to think it was a good idea; especially in Qui-Gon's case. If he can form a bond with her as a male companion, then I bet her expectations for how other males treat her will skyrocket. I need them to protect her from a myriad of different things, not just physical injury and her father is dead. Her aunt and uncle are too busy to take up the mantle as her mentors in life and, to be honest, I sincerely doubt they'd know where to start. They're too high strung! Belle, Artemis and Lorn will just feed off of each other. She needs friends who are concerned with her as a person and not as a princess," she glanced away from him with a pained look on her face, "I can't protect her. I need someone who can."
Mace continued with his stern stare for a few moments longer before his gaze finally softened. Laurel watched as he tentatively reached out and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"It is my experience that every master becomes more of a parent to their student than their actual parent ever was," he said in an effort to comfort her and tell her that he understood.
She smiled a bit and reached up with her peach hand to grasp his dark one. Laurel met his dark brown eyes with her pain-filled green ones. A few unspoken words only the two of them would ever share passed between them before they parted from each other and went their separate ways.
Qui-Gon was to be found in the library of the palace leafing through the volumes of books that pertained to elven society and the importance of close bonds. As he researched, everything began to make sense. One thing that took hold was the reason why elves were always so close knit with those they considered friends or swore undying loyalty to. Each bond was a degree of love. Love was the greatest commandment in elven religion. They even had to love their enemies; something that they and the Jedi agreed on.
This led to a tangent on understanding their religion and Qui-Gon discovered that there were many similarities between the Jedi and the elves save for a few glaring differences. Most of which occurred in disagreements with the Jedi mantra.
There is no emotion, there is peace was one of the first glaring differences. Emotions ran deep within the elven race. All attachment was based on emotion. Compassion for all was encouraged. While they well regulated their emotions they showed them often and many of their youth were known for making impulsive decisions. Qui-Gon had his own misgiving about that line of the Jedi mantra, himself, and normally centered his philosophy on how it used to be written. Still, he kept most if not all of his emotions at bay most of the time and rarely let others see them.
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge was another. The elves, apparently, seemed to hold a lot on the importance of actual knowledge. Truth was important to them as well as wisdom. They distinguished between the ignorant and the knowledgeable as well as pointing out that knowledge did not necessarily mean wisdom. The Jedi held no absolutes, so of course the conflict of belief was clear.
There is no passion, there is serenity. The elves apparently did not believe that either. Elves were passionate about their work. They held passion for their religion which, he conceded, wasn't much of a religion. They were passionate about their relationships as well. Friendships, marriages, vows of protection, everything was taken seriously when it came to both passion and serenity.
There is no chaos, there is harmony. The elves apparently believed in entropy (something that he did agree with) and believed that chaos and order existed simultaneously and constantly battled against each other. The path to harmony was through the acceptance of the existence of chaos and learning to deal with it. Jedi rejected chaos and held to order. He even believed that. Chaos did not exist and order would always prevail. They believed that first was order than chaos came and everything then on was born from chaos and destruction. He believed that all life forms were basically good. They believed that all life forms were basically evil and that it is the evil nature that had to be controlled; balanced out. Filtered. Understood. Qui-Gon didn't agree with their view but he understood their point.
There is no death, there is the Force. There was death and it is conquered. To die is to gain. Eru is life. Their holy texts were very telling. Qui-Gon poured through the texts about what the elves believed in life after death, saviors, and grace. How one could not obtain a life after death through their own works, but must openly accept and embrace grace. All of that was met with skepticism.
It was in this state of meditated study that Lorn found him.
Over the past three weeks Qui-Gon noted that the elf Lorn sought him out for a good exchange of knowledge and information. The Jedi had to admit that he enjoyed speaking with the Eduna elf even if their views differed.
"I would mistake your interest in our ways as an interest in conversion had I not known you to be very inquisitive," commented the hunter-elf and effectively startling Qui-Gon out of his world of gathering data.
The Jedi Master looked up at the Elven Hunter with a raised eyebrow. There was a slight twinge of annoyance at being disturbed.
"There is no curiosity in me. I am merely trying to better understand my charge," he said coolly.
Lorn nodded as if to himself, "True, that would help when it comes to Belle. Despite what you may think she is very devout in her relationship with Eru."
He noticed the confused look on Qui-Gon's face and moved to clarify, "You have a connection to the Force. She has a personal relationship with the Creator in which she builds trust in his knowledge verses her infinitely finite one. Many elves have this as well as the other races. Sometimes I think the other races have it far better with the Creator than mine do."
Qui-Gon frowned at this. If their god required a relationship with his followers than that would explain a bit more about why the elves valued their relationships with others and felt the need for strong bonds. They were emulating their god.
Lorn sat in the chair across from Qui-Gon with a contemplative look on his face. After a while he finally voiced his thoughts.
"You seem out of sorts, my friend. In fact, I've never seen you this high strung. Don't deny it, I can tell. If you tell me the problem I promise that I will give aid," he said.
Qui-Gon considered the pros-and cons of sharing his thoughts with the older male and finally decided that the pros outweighed the cons. There were things he needed to know.
"I am being told by your seer that I must go against the teachings of the Jedi to protect the princess," he finally answered after much thought.
Lorn shrugged, "If it's the right thing to do, you must. You're not renouncing the Force because you're forming an attachment. In fact, I would say that you're placing her needs above your own," he obviously caught the look that Qui-Gon was giving him because he sighed and went on to say, "You are worrying too much. Attachments are what help us keep perspective in terms of the world around us. Attachments force us to place the needs to others before our own."
Qui-Gon was dumbfounded. He hadn't expected such an easy loophole. Lorn laughed.
"I really do not know what you are so concerned about, Qui-Gon. I know my niece well enough to know that she will appreciate the genuine attempt. She has little friends these days as it is," Qui-Gon observed the momentary flicker of sadness that crossed Lorn's eyes as he said this, "As long as you, yourself, wish to form a bond of friendship I cannot see how anything will go wrong."
Qui-Gon kept his piece at that comment. He didn't want to alarm his elf-friend by telling him that he suspected that whatever bond he would form with his niece would end up becoming a bond beyond friendship. How far beyond, he still could not decide. Lorn was right about one thing. He should not worry about it. If it was the will of the Force, or Eru according to Ailya, then the situation would work out for the best.
Bellethiel and Obi-Wan left the audience chamber that day both in equally disquieted spirits. Belle's temper was on a short fuse, so short that the slightest annoyance would set her off. Her Jedi friend did not show as much as she felt, but she had no doubt that the words and actions of the elven nobles tarnished his carefully meditated state of serenity.
"Remind me that, when situations such as these arise, to always settle into deep meditation before beginning such a day," stated Obi-Wan dryly.
Bellethiel snorted and shot back, "Remind me to challenge your master into a duel this evening. I'm going to need the distraction."
Her friend laughed. Yes, he was her friend. He had proved himself enough in that respect; especially during this day. The White Council was as silent and passive as ever. Ailya, her only comfort when Professor Moruni wasn't available was mysteriously absent. It had taken Obi-Wan's hand resting on her arm to stop her from 'accidentally' setting ellon like Vanyo Undbegyr on fire.
"Should I warn him of the nobles coming from the eastern woodlands? Something tells me that even they will try his patience and my master has a wall of patience nearly unbreakable," asked Obi-Wan.
Belle shrugged, "Since I plan to spar him this night whether he likes it or not, I will tell him. I will require him to be prepared and level-headed tomorrow so that he may keep me from doing something I will ultimately regret."
They entered the common room to their living quarters conversing about the abominable way the five elven lords of the Rhunic peoples seemed to be hell-bent on re-acquainting their lines with the royal throne. Qui-Gon was surfing through a book he borrowed from the library. They sat on either side of him.
"Lord Raenion seems to believe that his son is intelligent!" complained Belle to Obi-Wan from one side of Qui-Gon.
The big man didn't even seem to acknowledge their presence. Both continued on their tirade.
"At least he wasn't attempting to become acquainted with your legs like Sir Taurinos! I cannot stress the amount of instances where I had to literally kick him away from you!" exclaimed Obi-Wan.
"Next time do not hesitate to inflict injury. Serious injury. It will result in less of a hassle for me!" she replied with an indignant 'humph'.
"What is this?" asked Qui-Gon now seemingly out of his reading daze.
Belle and Obi-Wan did not hesitate to immediately inform the man of what exactly went on in the audience chambers the entire day. Queen Miriel was as weak as ever- full of fear of the five lords under her rule- and practically agreed with everything they said. The five lords bragged about their sons while their sons attempted to gain Belle's affections in the most inappropriate of ways. After a few more particulars were relayed, Obi-Wan resigned himself to his rooms for a much needed early night (including meditation) and left Belle and Qui-Gon alone together.
With a groan of frustration, Bellethiel leaned back against her couch and tossed one arm over her eyes.
"This will happen tomorrow, I presume?" asked Qui-Gon.
She nodded from under her arm, "Unfortunately."
She started when she felt his large hand rest gently on her knee. She moved her arm to her forehead and shifted to look at him. His brown eyes stared at her intently.
"You are tense," he stated.
She let out a breath of humor, "Complaining about them does not help, contrary to popular belief."
The slight quirk of his lips told her he was smiling at her comment. Belle suddenly became more aware of the light touch of his hand and was glad for the dress that separated them. Goosebumps were erupting up and down her leg and she wasn't sure why that was.
"What will help?" he asked.
She smiled and automatically answered, "Sparring."
He chuckled, "Violence is not the answer."
Her mood began to lighten as the humor of the conversation began to take hold of her homicidal emotions. She giggled. It was a stupid giggle. It made her sound girly, but there was no helping it. There were few people in the universe who could even coax such a sound out of her and he seemed to be able to do so with little effort.
"No, it is the question and the answer is yes," she retorted.
He seemed to understand that she was partly joking because his reply was thus, "We will be using blunted swords with a comfortingly rounded end."
"If it will make you feel safer," she quipped.
He cocked an eyebrow with the question hanging in the air. She nodded and removed the arm covering her forehead to hold out for him to help her to her feet. Her hand engulfed in his larger one did weird things to her stomach that she was not used to experiencing and a nervous smile met her lips. Why was she anxious all of the sudden?
"Let me change out of this infernal dress and we shall head to the training grounds," she said and quickly moved to her rooms.
She did not neglect to notice the quickening pace of her heart as she spoke then moved away from him.
He was waiting for her when she immerged clad simply in a loose green tunic and brown leggings. Her hair was completely tied back in the customary braid she wore when training and she was slightly breathless though the reason for that was unknown to her. She hadn't been rushing to ready herself or anything, had she? Of course not!
He was dressed in his traditionally simplistic Jedi robes. In his hands rested two training swords.
Bellethiel raised a questioning eyebrow. How did he know where her swords were? Qui-Gon caught the slight confusion and his brown eyes twinkled slightly in humor.
"As your protector it is my business to know the position of all things in the common room, blunted training swords included," he told her.
She laughed and caught the one he threw at her before following him out of their living quarters. As they traveled down the halls in a comfortable silence something he said and done earlier suddenly struck her. He had referred to himself as her protector! He was beginning to open up to her! The sudden change in behavior and reference to himself startled her and she glanced up at him from the corner of her eye. He didn't seem aware of anything being odd. In fact, he seemed his normally reserved self.
As they rounded the corner that led into the lower levels of her home Belle considered the sudden change. It wasn't like the two of them hadn't tried to befriend the other before. He had, of course, made the first move. She made an attempt to return it the next day. For the first week of his arrival Belle found herself growing closer as a friend to Obi-Wan instead of Qui-Gon. It was an ironic thing since the master presided over most of her protection. Every attempt the other made to befriend each other left them in a confused, awkward, and socially tense situation. Neither knew how to react to the other. After the first week each gave up. She certainly remained as playful and familiar as she was with everyone; especially those guarding her, but with Obi-Wan there was a comradeship that didn't seem to form between her and Qui-Gon.
What made their interaction this night any different? She glanced over at him again as he opened the glass door that led into the grounds of the castle. This time, he caught her eye and the strange warm feeling erupted in her stomach again. She smiled and looked away hoping to hide the blush that appeared on her cheeks. Belle felt strange. Again. It was the feeling that always seemed to creep into her whenever they were somewhat familiar with the other. It didn't make sense.
"I must warn you, I am used to a lightsaber and not the heavy metal of a sword. My skill may be a bit lacking," he told her suddenly.
Belle smirked at that, "You are in luck, elven blades are made to distribute the weight of the sword equally; especially those used for training. Mine are custom made to fit my light frame, so they are not as heavy as others. If you would like, we can go through a series of practice rounds before we formally engage in practice that you may become accustomed to the weight."
He chuckled, "It may help."
They made it to the training grounds. Preliminary preparations began as Qui-Gon began to experiment awkwardly with his sword. Bellethiel didn't say anything as she casually jabbed, stabbed, blacked and parried with neither of them moving but a few inches from their original stances. After a few moments he held up his hand to cease their practice.
"Let me take a few rounds of general form first before we begin," he said.
She nodded and stood back to watch him warm up. They were basic moves. In fact, many of the moves he used were ones she was taught by her aunt. It seemed to her that the Jedi and the elves had a few things in common, though she was certain that the Rhunic elves did not know the techniques. Rhune elves practiced a heavy style meant for the use of heavy armor and horse maneuvers. The Eduna had no such style and were closer to what Qui-Gon was using though not precicely the same. It dawned on her that Professor Moruni had been right about one fact concerning her argument about letting Jedi protect her instead of elves. The Jedi used different methods of fighting style.
When Qui-Gon was finished becoming acquainted to a metal blade he nodded in her direction to indicate he was ready. Bellethiel rose to her feet with the nod reciprocated.
They readied themselves. Belle's weapon rested at her side while Qui-Gon's came up to an offensive stance with the flat of the blade parallel to his right cheek. She began to circle him and he her. Their eyes met for a brief moment and… she attacked.
Her blade moved for his legs rather than his upper body and Qui-Gon evaded the move with a backwards spring before suddenly laying down on her. Surprised by the sudden barrage of sword strokes, Belle immediately fell into defensive positions while observing the Jedi's attacks. After a minute or two, she figured him out. His form was quick and powerful, aggressive even, but not useful in prolonged battles or confined spaces. His strokes, while quick and precise, were wide and elaborate. She also noted that he only seemed to use his sword for attack and nothing else.
A playful smirk made its way to her lips and she met his eyes for the first time in minutes. His brown orbs were drawn from their focus to hers and widened a fraction. Apparently she suddenly put him on edge.
Belle's left hand suddenly withdrew from her sword and folded behind her back. Her right hand tweeked into a sudden offensive flick that threw her protector off balance and the blunted point of her blade jabbed forward. Qui-Gon jumped back just in time to avoid the sudden change in style and quickly accommodated. She noted the surprise in his eyes at her sudden proficiency in her techniques. This gave her some humor. He apparently had a few notions about nobility that had yet to be stamped out of him.
She grinned and whirled to bring her body past his defenses. Her left hand shifted, sped forward and jabbed him lightly in the gut- winding him.
Bellethiel stepped away from him with her air very playful and light. She met his eyes again.
"My style is no style, Master Jinn. How do you plan to accommodate?" she asked.
Qui-Gon's lips curled into a slight smile as he replied, "Do you know the basic rule of combat?"
A low laugh escaped her throat. It was an odd laugh she never let before and it caught her by surprise though she didn't show it. There was something very… hot, about their playful dance of blades.
"That there is none to be had?" she replied with a question.
His eyes glowed along with the rest of his face and she knew he was feeling the same rush as she. Then Qui-Gon leapt unexpectedly into the air with his sword before him. She brought hers up to block in the last moment before it cracked onto her shoulder.
"Exactly," he said casually.
Upon realizing that the elf princess was actually adept with a blade Qui-Gon knew he would have to change his fighting style. Following a specific style was pointless. She seemed to follow his mastered Ataru after a minute of its use and accommodated with a single hand style he rarely ever seen. The jab to his abdomen, while not overly threatening, had caught him off his guard. He did not expect her to disregard an honorary code of battle and take matters into her own hands. On reflection, he knew that he should have from the moment they first began.
As they resumed their duel after his brief reprieve to collect his thoughts and adjust his thinking, Qui-Gon reflected on how his movements quickened and became more impressive and simplistically elaborate. It dawned on him about halfway through their session that he was showing off.
Near the end of their mock duel the game changed when he managed to disarm her with his sword. She didn't need it, evidently, when he found himself on his back and his dominant arm pinned above his head.
Bellethiel was grinning down and him as she leaned down ever so slightly. Her eyes shown with the light of the exercise and a predator gaze that nearly unsettled him.
"Do you give, Master Jedi?" she asked in a way that told him she was enjoying herself.
"Yes," he answered before expertly flipping her over and reversing their positions.
Staring up at him from where he pinned her to the ground, the princess' eyes blazed in annoyance, defiance and then satisfaction. The arm pinned between their stomachs grabbed the cloth of his tunic and one slim leg wrapped around his large, muscular, one. She flipped him off of her, or at least made an attempt to, but he re-adjusted his grip on the last second and carried her slight frame with him. She landed on top of him and Qui-Gon wasted no time in pinning her arms on either side of her body by wrapping her frame into a bear hug. She struggled for a few moments before admitting defeat and allowing herself to fall limp against his chest. They were both breathing hard.
Between gasps of air Qui-Gon found himself laughing. It was a genuine flow of emotion that he rarely allowed anyone to see, but with the direction their training session had taken something struck him as humorous.
"What is it you find so," she took a long gasp of air before breathing out, "so humorous?"
He grinned, another rarity.
"Your technique. It is a good strategy to have in battle, but relies too heavily on the opponent not expecting your next move. If your next move is too much for your strength and figure, then you will fail like you have just now," he explained.
"What technique was the one you used at the beginning? I've seen something similar before performed by an Ylearan, but never something quite like this," she inquired.
His hold on her unconsciously relaxed as he let the rest of the tension in his body evaporate. It had been too long since he practiced a duel quite like that. The different weapon, of course, made his arms sore, but he found that instead of feeling tired his body was filled with the anticipation for more.
"Ataru, the fourth lightsaber form with a steady set of strokes. I take it that you figured out the pattern easily?" he asked.
She nodded against his chest, her cheek rubbing against the folds of his tunic.
"I'm sure that you probably had a few moves up your sleeve that you've hidden away in that form, but for the most part it was easy to guess. I learned my fighting style from my aunt, so she taught me more of an assassin's approach to hand-to-hand combat. She taught me various forms first, made certain that I mastered them, and then showed me how to break all of the rules," she explained.
He thought for a second while she rolled off of him. Bellethiel settled down in the set of grass next to him and watched him from under half-lidded eyes in wait of his response.
"Your aunt seems to have trained you with the general assumption that all enemy combatants will not fight fairly," he observed.
He looked over at her and saw the rueful smile that played on her lips.
"I've spend enough time in the deep forests to know that her assumption is accurate. I am also well aware of the fact, as you should be too, that my Rhunic enemies do not believe in a fair battle. In any case, my style is to prepare me for all types to ground battle should any occur. It is the general belief held by all Edunian and Ylearan elves that an elven ruler, be they female or male, must know how to properly fight," she explained.
"I see," he muttered as he digested her information.
The Rhune elves, he noted, did not seem to believe this. It didn't surprise him. A physically weak queen was easier to control than a strong one. Bellethiel was raised to be strong, fair minded, and independent. Unfortunately, her independence seemed to be a huge factor to her personality and she became resistant to what she deemed to be unreasonable restrictions. The Rhune would use this against her; the very thing they hate the most about the elleth.
"Do you know any other forms?" she asked.
"Yes, form three, Soresu, and form five, Shien," he replied.
"But you favor Ataru?" she clarified.
"I do."
There was a comfortable silence between them. The chasm between them was gone, he could feel it, but he wasn't certain about what replaced it. There was something personal about having her head resting on his outstretched arm, her body turned in his direction but never touching his and the softened but slightly curious look in her teal eyes that made him question his regard for her. Whatever this was, it had been present since the moment they met.
"I'd like to see the other two, possibly tomorrow after our next round of greeting stuffy nobles with nothing better to do than decide how to wheedle their sons to the throne," she told him.
He smiled his slight smile again. It always seemed to be a challenge for him to remember to remain as reserved as possible around her. Reservation didn't seem to be natural when alone with her; it never did.
"I see nothing wrong with the idea so long as we are both calm and collected after the fact," he caught her look and amended, "So long that we are calm enough to not let our emotions overrule our thoughts."
She poked him gently in the side, "See? You're learning."
He chuckled and turned his head to gaze at the twilight sky of their world. A few bright stars began to flicker into the growing darkness. Beside him, Bellethiel sat into a sitting position and dusted herself off.
"Speaking of stuffy nobles, I think it may be best to head back," she said.
He sat up with her and then helped her to her feet while trying to ignore how aware he was of her small hand enveloped in his large one. It was surprisingly delicate for a female who could almost expertly wield a weapon.
"I would suggest it," he stated.
When she fixed him with a smile so bright that it blazed through her eyes he realized what had replaced the chasm between them. He was attracted to her.
To be continued...