[OOM] Devotion

[fighting_mad]

It was the middle of the night when Plourr woke suddenly. This was not her bunk it was too big where was her blas--

Oh.

She sat up in the darkness, leaning her head back against the wall. She had been on Eiattu a week now; you'd think she could kriffing remember that. She opened her eyes and methodically untangled herself from the sheets and rolled out of the huge bed. She crossed the stone cold floor, but paused in the doorway and then ducked into the wardrobe, emerging with a short robe. It was hot pink and shimmery, unfortunately, but it would do for getting her down to the palace kitchens and back without causing any coronaries along the way. She pulled it on and belted it at the waist, immediately discovering that, just like most of her title-appropriate clothing, it was too small. Apparently, whoever had stocked the closets had assumed that the heir to the throne was of the same stock that her mothers and sisters had been – namely, delicate.

The reality of a six foot tall princess who could take out a zoneball team had left more than a few courtiers and servants in the palace scrambling.

Rolling the robe’s too-short sleeves up to her elbows, she went out into the dark corridor, fingers curled around the hold-out blaster in her pocket.

Dialogue in italics from Dark Horse Comics' Star Wars: Rogue Squadron: The Warrior Princess.

Comments

[sw-npc.livejournal.com]

"It is my duty and my wish to stand by your side," he says. "And my father is in the wrong. He has been for twelve years."

[fighting_mad]

She traces the rim of her mug with her thumb. "Yeah. About that. Rial, it is not your duty. If things go badly, I could be steering myself a course into the Maw here and you don't have to come with me."

[sw-npc.livejournal.com]

"It is my wish," he says firmly. "I want to." He pauses a moment. "Though I would rather not fly into the Maw, if it can be avoided. You are a fierce pilot, but I don't think even your skill could save us from the Maw." Another pause. "Perhaps the spice mines of Kessel, instead."

[fighting_mad]

Startled, she laughs. He has a sense of humor. Who knew? She stops it quickly and spits him with a glare. "I mean it, Count Pernon. If I go down, I will go down hard. I have no desire to drag others with me."

[sw-npc.livejournal.com]

He stands (or sits, technically) tall under the glare. "There will be no going down. You are leading Eiattu well, toward a good future."

[fighting_mad]

"I'm flying blind here; I'm not leading anybody."

[sw-npc.livejournal.com]

"You may not believe it, but the people are following you," he says quietly. "You're leading, Isplourrdacartha."

[fighting_mad]

"Shut up. And don't call me that."

[sw-npc.livejournal.com]

It's the truth, Princess. You're doing very well. And what would you prefer?" He is thoughtful. "They called you Isplourr when you were young."

[fighting_mad]

A flash of memory; six years old, crying after witnessing what her brother had done to a pet whisperkit. The appearance of a stranger; a serious-faced, handsome teenaged boy who sat under the stairs with her for an hour, handing her his handkerchief and telling her stories. It wasn't until he'd left that her sister had told her that that had been the young Count Rial Pernon. Her betrothed.

Her parents' voices; her sisters', too. Even her brother's. Isplourr this, Isplourr that--

"No," she snaps. She takes a moment to lower her voice. "No, not that. Just Plourr."

[sw-npc.livejournal.com]

He nods, unruffled by the sharp tone. "As you wish." He is quiet a moment, and he dares to take another sip of his caf. It, strangely enough, is better cold. "Though you are doing a poor job of subject-changing, Lady."

[fighting_mad]

"Maybe," she says, "just maybe that's because I don't want to talk about revolting angry nobles or downtrodden people or the People's Liberation Battalion or the man leading them claiming to be my brother or the past or pressures or responsibilities or tactics or politics any kriffing more!" For a sentence that started low and sarcastic, it's certainly loud and angry by the end.

[sw-npc.livejournal.com]

"Maybe you had best choose the topic of conversation, then."

[fighting_mad]

She crosses her arms over her chest, pulling the two halves of her robe closed tightly again. "I apologize," she says, and this time she knows she's taking refuge in the royal formality that was forced down her throat by tutors as a child. "I grow frustrated. I am not angry with you, Count."

That's a lie. She's angry that he's sticking to the old traditions, assuming that they're going to be married. She's angry that she is promised to him and no one seems to think she has any choice in the matter. She's angry that he won't stop following her, won't stop believing in her, won't just leave her alone.

She's angry that he's such a good man.

[sw-npc.livejournal.com]

"Eiattu is not an easy place to have thrust upon you," says Rial sympathetically.

[fighting_mad]

"No, it's really not. Are you tired?" This may seem like an incomprehensible jump, but she understands it fully well.

[sw-npc.livejournal.com]

Rial does not understand it, fully or otherwise, but he regards her steadily all the same. "No, my Princess."

[fighting_mad]

"Good. Then you can explain to me some of what happened in the years I was gone."

[sw-npc.livejournal.com]

"Politically, economically, socially...?"

[fighting_mad]

"All of that in regards to the Priamsta, primarily; I'd like to hear how they've been governing the planet." She smiles faintly, very wryly. "So I know what not to do."

[sw-npc.livejournal.com]

Rial nods somberly. "Of course." He opens his mouth, then pauses. "You aren't tired, either?" He is surprised; she has been on the go constantly since she arrived.

[fighting_mad]

"I got a few hours of sleep already." On a table after kriffing with Aeryn.

Uh. It goes without saying that this is not going to be spoken.

She realizes belatedly that she only left Rial's company after dinner an hour or two ago.

"Earlier in the day, I mean," she adds hurriedly. "Naps-- I'm fine, Rial. Talk."

[sw-npc.livejournal.com]

Rial is unconvinced, but she says she's fine, so he will simply keep a watchful eye out for signs of exhaustion. "Very well, Princess." He rests his hands on the table and leans in. "After the-- coup twelve years ago, the entire planet was in an uproar..."



Rial makes the second pot of caf an hour later, and the third as the sun is beginning to rise.