Chapter Eight: Normal Life
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"So, I just…I want you to know that just because I'm throwing you on to some family I've never met, that doesn't mean I don't want you around," Sanar babbled while taking a sharp left. As she sped through the intersection, Nichyn watched another speeder spin out of the way. "I mean, I totally stand by me being a horrible aunt, or adoptive mom, or whatever the hell the term is. But it's not that—the not wanting you thing, I mean. Believe me, I'd love to milk you for information on Clayra—I mean, your mom—but there just isn't a lot of time for that. Not that that's the only reason I would want you around!" Sanar panicked.
Nichyn watched her (when he could tear his horrified gaze from the traffic, and the mess his aunt's driving was causing behind her) with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. Sanar didn't notice; Nichyn didn't bother to tell her that he understood better than anyone what NLY women would do for The Cause.
"…Because that isn't it at all," his aunt insisted, yanking the bright red speeder into a right turn, then taking her eyes off the road for a terrifying moment. "Really. I'd love to have you around and teach you how to survive this place. Believe me, there are some weird customs. And the whole gender equality thing? Wow, that took a delightful amount of time to get used to… Gotta love the Galactic Alliance, even if it was set up by heroes…
"But I was talking about you! Um, I'd totally keep you, if you really wanted to be stuck with me. But me and Jaina—oh, and Kyp, I suppose, though how he got to be the Kavishka I don't know—er, well, we have to go…save a world? Give Rafintair and Gaffil a humiliating rear-kick, at the very least. And—and I'm not a good role model at all. You wouldn't believe some of the things I did when I first escaped NL-sithing-Y. I mean, I still cringe when I think about that one time, when I took a job in this really weird club, where I had to—
"Oh! See what I mean? Blah, blah, blah, corrupting you more and more every second, even when I don't mean to—like you didn't see or hear enough on that hell-hole we call the mother-planet. Larifx, aren't you glad to be off there and away from those monster Jirs? At least you were born male… Believe me, what little the priests showed you about 'their' girls? It does not even approach their…their sickness. Ugh. No. Stopping now. —Whenever I get started on those sithin'-bantha-dung-disgusting-warftha-eating—things known as priests…"
Nichyn's mother was just the same. Except…quieter. A lot quieter.
Maybe his mother wasn't the best comparison. Dejah, maybe, or even his father.
"…But I think—um, I think these Rym people…er, family…they'll be good for you. I mean, they're normal and stuff. Not even heroes, really, which is good, because Clayra would—well, I don't what she'd do—"
I'd die if I lost you, my son. Please, don't ever, ever forget me. Stay safe, my darling.
"—but, hell, I'd do something drastic on her behalf if you got killed. And believe me, I've done it before. And heroes are always the worst for getting people into trouble. But, uh, the Ryms, they aren't like that. I don't think. I mean…I think the mom's a Jedi, but she isn't big-profile; Jaina said something about her cooling her heels while she raises her kids— See? She's all family-oriented, and stuff. You'll be in good hands. And if you aren't, I will murder them."
You ever heard of Horaire? Your aunt killed the sadistic beast, thank Mujir. But not soon enough; she held onto her conscience up until that priest threatened your mother. I got visits from him, once or twice, and I'm not going to explain what he did, because soon you'll be looking your aunt in the eye. And you'll know that he saved his worst for her.
Nichyn's mother had told him that his aunt was very protective of her loved ones. He hadn't really thought that would extend to him, too, just because of his mother's blood. Ironic…he wondered what the priests would say about such protection.
"…I swear I will. If you so much as cut your lip because of them, I'll show them the meaning of pain. Every. Single. Lafit. Day. For the rest of their lives."
Nichyn sat back. He didn't tell her, If you wanted to really scare them, you could just take them for a drive. Maybe she wouldn't get the joke. Or maybe she would, but he wasn't used to seeing a woman with this much…unmanaged spirit, and certainly not one who looked out for him. Mujir's Resistance members were tough, but they kept control, too.
Were all women like this in the Galactic Alliance?
The point is that maybe, even though intellectually you know equality is right, you don't really believe it? You've only ever had your mother and your adoptive father's word on it, and…
Oh, Larifx. Things really were going to get interesting.
Next to him, Sanar continued to babble.
She wasn't really that bad at being a protective guardian. Just…so, so different from his mother.
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"It looks…cozy," Sanar said brightly. Her eyes, however, betrayed her half-amusement, part-disdain, and (very small) part-longing for the familial scene.
Nichyn exited the speeder with minimal fumbling, and only a little wobbling on his still-jelly legs. Riding with his aunt had been a crash course in why crash webbing was important. When he had imperceptibly checked his surroundings for threats and other people, the teenager turned his attention to his new home.
It did look cozy, according to Galactic Federation standards—the house had two stories above ground, though Nichyn suspected there was also a basement. Painted light sage, the house had more windows than most, although on the side of each hung curtains. The lawn was well-maintained and lush green, with a flower garden along the house, and a wooden gate protecting the path to the backyard. More than cozy, however, it was very, very different from the clay or brick homes on Na'Lein'yhpaon.
"Hey! You're here!"
Nichyn ignored the young girl's voice as he continued to take in the house. To one side of the porch was a long board that hung from four cords, making him wonder what its purpose was; what chore needed a system that did not look like it lowered something? Unusual, but then from what he had seen of the Galactic Federation, these people had many more things than his home planet.
"Hey," the girl repeated, a little louder this time. Nichyn finally looked up rather impatiently. She hopped down from the porch, not bothering with the stairs, and half-jogged across the lawn to where he and Sanar stood. "You're Nichyn Whilem, right?"
"Yes," he answered warily. Why was a girl…?
"Hi," Sanar barked, holding out a hand, which the girl shook. "Yeah, he's Nichyn. Don't mind him. He's getting used to gender equality. If he ignores you, slap him: he should learn quickly."
Nichyn blinked, searched his aunt's face in surprise, then turned back to the stranger, a little more observant this time. He had been with Braun and Veras for almost two weeks, but most of that time had been spent on their ship, the Prize. What little time they spent on-planet, there had been no moment to stop and scrutinize the people, so Nichyn took his chance to really look at the first free girl-child he had seen.
She looked both older and younger than he. Her eyes were still bright and innocent, though she was his height. Her skin was slightly tanned, but completely unscarred: both were unusual on all the girls he had known previously. Swept away from her face in an unfinished kind of braid, her hair was dark blond, with various colours highlighting the strands. Scanning the rest of her quickly, he noted that her indigo pants and pink, sleeveless top hid no weapons.
"Hi," she said, blushing a little under his regard. "I'm Lera. Well, Lerasina, but everyone calls me Lera."
"Nichyn," he replied, still cautious, though he (awkwardly) took her hand.
"Shanya said you were coming soon—you're kinda early, though. Um, where's your luggage? I can help carry some of it in…"
"Yeah, he's got some stuff in the back," Sanar said easily, taking charge. "He'll take most of it himself, though, as a gentleman." She went to the back of the speeder, opening the trunk, and winked at Lera.
Lera grinned, seeming to become a little more at ease with the prickly woman. "So, what planet are you from, Nichyn?"
He gave her a sharp look, as if he expected her to be a double agent. Her eyes, however, were sufficiently sincere, and he felt foolish for doing so. "Na'Lein'yhpaon."
"Never heard of it."
"It isn't in the Galactic Federation."
She nodded, taking one of his lightest bags from Sanar. "Okay. Oh, um, Shanya is just inside making some lunch—once I've got you settled in and stuff, I'll take you to see her. And Arelyk and Zuleika are still training. Or—or maybe they're driving back from training. But they'll be home in an hour."
Nichyn didn't respond. He only took the two heaviest suitcases out of the speeder's trunk and watched Lera throw her designated bag over her shoulder with ease. "Follow me."
A strange mix of confidence and shyness, he thought as he stayed a step behind Lera. On Na'Lein'yhpaon, most of the women were either fiery, bitter freedom fighters, or subdued, wincing slaves. Very few were anywhere in between, and yet Lera was most clearly one of those grey spots. Was she the normal girl on this planet? Or unique from the others, the way she was from Na'Lein'yhpaon girls?
You'll have time to figure out later. A frightening concept.
"…So your room is upstairs. I'll show you up there, first, and then give you the grand tour. Are you hungry?"
Nichyn shrugged.
"Oh, well, um, after I show you around, hopefully Shanya will have made the lunch, so you can eat then, okay?" When he still didn't reply, she tried, "Mrs. Rym is making her palla soup and green bread—you'll love it."
Even Sanar, who barely used manners herself, was irritated with Nichyn's continued silence, and she elbowed him. "Sorry," she muttered to Lera. "He's significantly lacking in social graces."
Lera blushed and smiled faintly. "Oh, no, that's fine," she said shyly. "I've lived here all my life; I can't imagine how I'd react if I moved to…I don't know…Corellia."
"You're my new sister?" Nichyn asked abruptly.
Lera's brown eyes widened a little as she stopped on the stairs, turning back to look at him. "M-me? No, no. I'm not. Nope. I live next door. I just—Arelyk, your, um, foster brother, he's my best friend. I'm over here a lot—I was just talking with Shanya before you came. My parents…"
She— Girls were allowed out of the house without their husbands? Or was this Arelyk her husband's brother?
Sanar saw Nichyn's look and rolled her eyes, but left it for the moment. He'd find out soon enough. "Well, where's his room?" she asked instead. "Nichyn packs like a teen girl—no offence, Lera—and I'm feeling this bag's weight."
"Oh, right." Lera blushed. "S-sorry. It's up here."
Up a flight of stairs and to the right, to be more specific. Lera palmed the access, and ducked under the rising door. When Nichyn followed her, she offered him a shy smile, tucking a strand of escaped hair behind her ear. "D—do you like it?"
The walls had been painted soft, rustic brown, and the floor was dark wood, and Nichyn wondered if the room's decorators had somehow known that this felt that much more like home. On the far side, a twin bed with a Hapan-woven thread blanket was pushed against the wall, with a bureau cornering it. Other than these things and a glow-ball, the room was bare. "It's nice," Nichyn accepted a little uncertainly.
"It's— Arelyk and I repainted it a week ago, so the paint fumes should be gone by now. A-and I know it looks kinda Spartan right now, but we wanted to let you decorate it how you want it."
Nichyn set his bags down at the foot of his bed, and looked around. "Alright." He sank into the bedspread, fingering the vibrant colours of the weave.
"Oh!" Lera said, eyes brightening, after an awkward moment. "I almost forgot." She dashed out of the room, only to return minutes later with some string clutched in her hand.
"Give me your right hand," she ordered.
Nichyn blinked at her.
"Come on, it's tradition." A second later, when he still hadn't moved, she shrugged and grabbed his wrist. In a deft movement, she slipped a few dice-shaped charms onto the string and then tied it around Nichyn's wrist. "The charms are for success, love, joy, peace and hope, and the string was made by Arelyk's grandmother," she explained.
"As the youngest person in the house at the time of your arrival, and as a close female friend of the family, it is my duty to greet you, according to custom, into your new home. May your life be filled with meaning, your spirit with strength, and your heart with joy and love, for all the days of your life." Contrary to her previous shyness, Lera did not stumble over the obviously well-practiced speech.
Nichyn's gaze stayed on Lera as he lowered his hand. "Thank you."
Again, she blushed. "No problem."
As if he had suddenly grown a mouth and acquired some manners, Nichyn smiled at Lera and rose from the bed. "You said…'Shanya' was preparing a meal?"
"Yep. —Oh, I did tell you that Shanya's your foster mom, right?"
"No, you did not, but I assumed it."
Lera's expression was one of guilt and contrition. "Sorry. Here I was, blabbing on and on like the nervous, weird kid I am, and you didn't even know who I was talking about, did you?" Before Nichyn could reassure her, Lera continued. "Well, um, the—the kitchen's downstairs. So just…follow me. Again." She grinned helplessly at the repetition.
Nichyn had expected brick, stone and clay in the kitchen, if nowhere else, but instead he found glass, pale yellow walls, and polished black flooring. The kitchen was actually one large room, with a half-partition between cooking area and dining room. Hanging on the walls were what Nichyn assumed to be family photos, student reports, and a few pieces of "art"—old, childish creations of finger paints and cut out paper. Unaware of their presence, a woman (who, by default, could only be Shanya) was preparing food.
Shanya's earth-brown hair was cut short in a bob Nichyn had only ever seen on the priests' beardless pages. Although not the stereotype of pretty, her features were clean and strong. From the warm dignity in her carriage, Nichyn detected a fighter as well as a mother—something he had never seen so well combined before this woman. Shanya, he decided, would fight for Mujir's Resistance, if ever she visited Na'Lein'yhpaon.
"Shanya, Nichyn's here," Lera said, interrupting his musings. To his surprise, the girl seemed more confident now. Not, he admitted, that that was saying a great deal.
Shanya looked up and smiled warmly, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Nichyn…and you must be Sanar? Give me just a minute, will you, and I'll get the bread out of the oven." A moment later, Shanya placed a small pan on the counter, then stepped out of the kitchen area.
"You look just like the holo Braun and Veras sent," Shanya remarked smilingly, resting a motherly hand on Nichyn's shoulder. "A little on the thin side, but Zuleika's dessert-cooking spree should cure you of that." She winked.
"Uh, thanks," Nichyn mumbled in confusion. A little on the thin side? He was thicker than many boys he knew, and overweight compared to the girls. Uncomfortable, he drew his fingers through his dark hair.
"Oh, I see Lera remembered to give you the charms," Shanya commented when she noticed the bracelet on his right wrist. "Did the speech practice help with your nerves, sweetie?" she asked Lera.
Predictably, Lera blushed. "Yes."
"If you were nervous, I couldn't tell," Nichyn offered with a faint smile.
The girl blushed even more. "Thanks." Then, in an obvious foray to remove the attention from her, she asked, "So, is it ready? It smells yummy."
"Thank you, sweetie." Shanya smiled at the girl. "I'm just letting it cool down. Why don't you all take a seat at the table?"
"Actually," Sanar declined uncomfortably, "I really need to get going. I'd love to stay, really, but I just…you know how it is?"
Shanya glanced at Nichyn, her forehead creasing a little, but she said, "Of course. Veras told me something of the situation; we'll take care of him as if he was our own—don't worry more than you have to."
"There are these…assassin guys," Sanar began. "If they come…"
"They won't," Nichyn said.
"The Holy Brothers came after me," Sanar snapped. "I never thought that would happen, even if I did kill Horaire."
Lera looked fascinated.
"They won't come after me," Nichyn insisted again. "Everyone thinks I'm dead. Mama and Father planned everything."
Sanar's jaw clenched, and she pinned Shanya with her eyes. "If they find out, and decide to come for him…"
"I am a Jedi, Miss Klis," Shanya replied, almost coolly. "I assure you that your nephew will be safe, even if I have to call in old friends and favours."
"He'll be fine," Lera said firmly, surprising Sanar, who had thought the girl was afraid of her.
"If you say so," Sanar responded dryly.
To Nichyn's surprise, Lera met Sanar's eyes without the faintest pink in her cheeks.
"I'll see you when we get back, kiddo," Sanar finally said, looking away from Lera. Awkwardly, she hugged the teenager, discretely slipping a small object into his pocket. "Maybe you'll even be able to go home, then, if you want."
"Maybe," he agreed impassively, drawing Lera's curious stare.
Sanar briefly smiled at Shanya, then impulsively winked at Lera. "Show him the ropes, but if he gets chauvinistic, go liberated-girl on him."
The girl laughed, taking Sanar's words as a joke as they (mostly) were. "Will do," she replied, grinning freely.
No one—thought Nichyn—least of all girls, smiled like that on Na'Lein'yhpaon.
They should.
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Nichyn had spent a befuddling forty minutes with two (female) "equals" before the men arrived.
The men, and the most bewildering girl yet.
Timmis Rym was Shanya's husband—and that was how he introduced himself. "Shanya's husband." He kissed, hugged and teased his "wife" without hesitation. The red-haired man even took out the garbage when Shanya asked (albeit after two repetitions). To Lera, he was warm and fatherly in a way Nichyn had heard his grandfather had been; there was nothing tainted in Timmis and Lera's interaction, and Nichyn found himself both relieved and awestruck.
The second man—Arelyk—was a sandy-haired youth who seemed so easygoing it could be dangerous to his health. To Nichyn's eyes, Arelyk was little more than a boy, but Lera had fairly lit up when her friend appeared in the door. Since then, she had been far more open, and had quickly acclimated to Nichyn's presence. He had noticed this with his mother—Clayra would become more comfortable (and, consequently, more like herself) when she was around Gantik.
The last "new" arrival was named Zuleika. Her bright auburn curls framed her face flawlessly and contrasted with her blue-green eyes—and it looked like she knew it. "Darlings!" she said throatily when she appeared in the kitchen doorway. In a dramatic way, she threw her arms out and struck a pose. "You can all start enjoying life—I am here. Ah, and you are the new one?" she asked, in a slightly more normal voice.
Nichyn stared at her for a moment before saying, "Yes, I am Nichyn."
Zuleika smiled brightly, and tossed her hair so that it glistened in the light. "Wonderful! I'm a year older than Arelyk. You are fourteen, correct? What is your lifeday?"
"My what?"
"When will you be fifteen?" Zuleika revised, a tad impatiently.
She had to be speaking about standard years. Nichyn did a quick mental calculation. "I will have fifteen years in three months' time."
"Great! Lera," Zuleika snapped her fingers, then pointed one at the shy girl, "get your mind on love triangle plots. There is finally hope—Nichyn is so much better than Jolesp and Arelyk. I mean, really, ew." She shuddered.
Nichyn frowned in confusion, then looked to Lera for clarification. Thus far, he trusted her significantly more than he did the others.
"Zuleika's an actress," Lera quietly obliged him. Her lips twisted wryly, suggesting that she had some less-than-gracious opinions about Zuleika. "She and Hasi play the leads in Jolesp's holo-vids."
When Nichyn's eyebrows rose in continued confusion, the dishwater blonde smiled and shrugged. "I'll tell you later."
"Oh, go ahead and explain now, Lera," Shanya encouraged from behind the counter. "I need the others to set up for dinner now, anyway. Are you going to stay for dinner tonight?"
Lera glanced at Nichyn briefly before she shrugged tentatively. "I—I don't know. I mean, this is your first meal as a family-ish thing and I…"
"C'mon, Ler," Arelyk said cheerfully. He swung an arm around Lera's shoulders. "You are family."
She shook her head determinedly, although her eyes rested adoringly on Arelyk. "Maybe tomorrow night. Or for lunch, or something, since you don't have school tomorrow."
"And what will you eat tonight? Noodles and cheese? Aren't your parents out for the night?"
Lera nodded eagerly. "They said they want to spend more time together!" she exclaimed in delight.
Timmis and Shanya exchanged a look, and Zuleika shook her head in a melodramatic, knowing way before ascending the stairs. Lera didn't seem to notice, and Arelyk didn't acknowledge them. "That's great, Ler, really—but now you're definitely staying for dinner. No excuses."
Lera rolled her eyes, but relented, smiling at her friend. "Alright, alright. I'll stay—but I'm going home after." Seeing the start of Arelyk's protest, she cut him off: "I'm a big girl; I can spend the night home alone until my parents get back. Maybe I'll even call Jolesp to help him with 'Haunting'; he's been griping about not having caught this perfect closing shot…"
"It's settled then," Shanya spoke. Nichyn had the feeling that, despite her attempts to back out, Lera would stay until her parents returned, if Shanya and Arelyk had anything to do with it.
"Arelyk, go set the table, and don't forget an extra chair and setting for Nichyn. Timmis, why don't you come help me. Your mother called, by the way…"
As Lera led Nichyn into the living room, the others' voices drifted away. "Well, take a seat," Lera offered shyly. Without waiting for any response from him, she sank into a stuffed chair and curled her legs underneath her. She gave the action no pause or thought—to her, it was normal behaviour.
Simply fascinating.
When Lera seemed inclined only to fidget and stare at nothing, Nichyn prompted, "So what was Zuleika talking about earlier?"
Lera started a little, and blushed. "Oh, right. Well, Zuleika's an actress, as is a…friend…of ours, Hasi. They're involved in a theatre group, but Zuleika can't commit to schedules because of her Jedi training. Anyway, Jolesp wants to be a holo-vid director—"
"Holo-vid?" Nichyn interrupted uncertainly.
Lera didn't laugh, which forever endeared her to the other teenager. "Um, captured theatre, kinda? Jolesp wants to be the actors' boss, and get filthy rich, while he does what he loves."
Although not entirely sure he understood, Nichyn said, "Very well. Jolesp wants to be a director, and…"
"And I—I'm a writer," Lera continued shyly.
"You can write?" Nichyn asked before he could stop himself.
"Of course," Lera answered with surprise. "Can't…well, can't you?"
"Of course," he echoed, a little affronted. "I read and write Basic, Na'Lein, and a great deal of the Sacred Tongue. But you're…"
"I'm what?" Lera asked, mud brown eyes a mixture of surprise, defiance and innocence. When he didn't reply, she narrowed her eyes, and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm what?"
"A girl," he stated bluntly.
Lera blinked. "Well, yes, I am. Not that some people notice," she muttered under her breath.
"I don't know any girls my age who are educated."
"Well, now you know two," Lera pointed out reasonably, although she seemed a little offended. "Zuleika and I are both 'educated', as you put it." When he continued to look at her, she shook her head and laughed uncomfortably. "Stop looking at me like I'm a new species. Everyone I know goes to school of some form, and everyone over five is taught to read and write at least Basic."
Nichyn sat back in his chair. "Wow."
"It isn't like that on your planet?" Lera inquired innocently.
He almost laughed. "No, it isn't. Most boys are taught Na'Lein, and sometimes a little of either Basic or the Sacred Tongue, but…"
"None of the girls?"
Nichyn scoffed at the idea. "No."
She stared for a moment. "Wow." Then she laughed.
In all his life, Nichyn had never heard anything so light and pretty.
"You're going to have a time getting used to Gallinore," Lera remarked wryly. "If—if you want, I could try to help you," she offered suddenly, not looking at him. "Zuleika would probably be a bit too…extreme…and Arelyk goes to public school, and Shanya and Timmis have work, but I…."
"I… Thank you."
On NLY, no girl would offer aid to a person of the opposite sex—not without permission from her father or husband, and certainly not without healthy paranoia.
"Well." She smiled sheepishly. "I went off on a tangent again, didn't I? Sorry. Um, oh, so I was saying, Jolesp is a director, and I'm a writer. Between the two of us, we create holo-vids for Hasi and Zuleika to star in."
"You and your…" what had Gantik said these people called them? "…girl friends create and capture stories?"
"Oh, Jolesp is a guy," Lera corrected with a grin. "Arelyk and a few other friends—some of whom are also guys—usually help out as well. But yes, we film holo-vids."
Lera's father let her work with men, unsupervised? Was he insane? Working for the government?
"Uh, so when Zuleika asked for my lifeday…"
"Zuleika's a romantic," Lera told him, rolling her eyes.
What was a romantic?
"She 'adores' acting out love stories—unfortunately, the only two guys who are 'acceptable as a hero' are Jolesp…who she doesn't like very much…and her brother."
"Oh." A…love story? What the lafit hell?
She grinned at his wariness. "Don't worry: I am so not a racy writer."
Racy? He assumed it was slang, but he had never been taught that word. Still, he wasn't sure he wanted to learn too much from a girl all at once. Perhaps he should have spent a little more time with Dejah and Élin, two of the more "moderate" Resistance fighters, before he left home…
"Supper's ready!" Shanya's voice called.
"Be right there!" Lera fairly hollered back. "You ready for your first Rym family dinner?" she asked Nichyn playfully.
Nichyn had the dismal feeling he wasn't ready for much of anything at all. "Sure."
"Hey," Lera said with a gentle smile. She paused his exit with a hand on his shoulder. "It'll be okay."
He tried to smile; it was only a little easier than he had expected. "Thank you."
-x-x-x-x-x-
"What do you think of him?"
Sensing this would be a conversation, and not a quick goodbye, Lera plopped down on the porch stairs. "Nichyn?" she asked.
Arelyk sat next to her, leaning against the wooden post on his left. "Yeah."
"Well, what do you think?" Lera returned. "You're the one with Jedi instincts."
"Hmm."
"'Hmm'?" she teased. "Sounds pretty dire for your new foster brother."
"Nichyn's aunt is the best friend of a friend of Garik Klamath."
"The senator?"
"Diplomat, actually, but bets are on that he'll be more before the year is out. The point is, he's a friend of Mom's from a while back."
"So…?"
"Plus, Nichyn's the nephew of Jaina Solo's best friend. The Solos are pretty much heroes."
"They are heroes," Lera said, her mind drifting a little as she dreamily stared at the stars.
Arelyk gave his friend a moment to commune with her muse about heroic deeds before he spoke again. "Well, so he must be…decent, right? You met his aunt—she must be like the Solos."
Lera hesitated. "Well, I'm not sure about that…" After a second's thought, she decided not to mention how downright scary and bewildering Sanar had been, or how Sanar had slipped and mentioned murdering someone…. "But what do you think about him?"
The sandy-haired teenager shrugged. "Dunno. Takes time to be sure."
She bumped his shoulder with hers. "But…?"
The Jedi apprentice studied Lera for a moment. "He likes you."
She blinked. "What?"
"He trusts you," Arelyk explained. "And he's trying—to adjust to all the changes. Plus, we've seen no tantrums so far…. For now, he's in my good books."
"Isn't pretty much everyone in your good books?" Lera asked fondly.
"I guess you're right." He grinned at her, which brought an instantaneous echo on Lera's face. "But you usually are," he added, and garnering a blush for his compliment.
"Flattery," Lera tsk-ed, her face still pink.
"So, what do you think of him?"
"He's good people," Lera said decisively. "Confused, lonely and tough, but he's trying to do the right thing. I say you keep him."
Arelyk nodded, pleased. "That's good."
"I—I offered to help Nichyn adjust," Lera told him after a beat. "I thought…since my days are freer than yours, maybe…"
"You don't have to; I think my mom's going to stay home more than usual to help him."
"No, I—I want to."
"He isn't a well of inspiration for your stories," Arelyk pointed out gently.
She blinked at him, hurt. "I wasn't…I never thought that." When he only looked down, she gathered her thoughts again and continued. "I just thought—Nichyn seems kind of weirded out by gender equality. And what's the point of being homeschooled if I'm not going to use my extra time wisely?"
"You're a teacher's dream," he teased her affectionately.
"Oh, shut up," she said primly. Almost as an afterthought, she shoved him.
"Just be careful, then," Arelyk said. "I don't think he'll do anything, but his culture is so different from ours. Watch out, okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, of course. Stick to crowded areas, and run away screaming if he so much as looks at me funny." Lera rolled her eyes.
"Or you could punch him the way I taught you," Arelyk offered graciously.
She gave him a look. "There won't be a problem, Arelyk."
He shrugged. "I'm all for that, too."
"Someday," she teased, "you're gong to hit your rebellious stage, and none of us will know how to deal with an argumentative version of you."
Arelyk grinned.
-x-x-x-x-x-
Up in his room, Nichyn pulled the curtain open just a little more. The breeze—very light, and the opposite of NLY's wind—moved against the fabric, but he held it in place.
"You sure you want to go home alone?" he heard Arelyk ask. "Your parents haven't gotten back yet…"
What kind of friend would let Lera leave the house without an escort, let alone go to an empty house? Nichyn's fist briefly tightened around the bunch of green curtain. Were things really that different here? How could they be?
"Arelyk, I'm a big girl; I can stay home alone for a few hours."
It didn't mean Nichyn would rest any easier; he had seen many, far more grown, women hurt unimaginably by their masters—be they husband, father or priest. Seeing Lera's innocent assurance in her own security was startling—he basked in it; it terrified him. What if someone took that from her? What if someone destroyed it, the way he had seen so many other girls broken? He never wanted to see that again.
After a few more minutes of talking—her parents were brought up again; what was going on with them?—Lera waved goodbye and jogged to the house next door. She confirmed the house as hers when she walked right in; Nichyn hoped she locked the door.
He didn't even lie down in his strange bed, until an adult couple—who had to be Lera's parents—entered Lera's house. Even then, it was a long time before Nichyn could sleep.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Please R&R!
.Tjz