Dark Lord Roan slit his eyes, glancing around himself. His immediate surroundings didn't look particularly different from those he had been unexpectedly wisked away from...

...save that with the sole exception of himself and the flame-haired Chosen Daughter, this universe was absolutely empty. Indeed, it was a strange dimension, existing in that odd place between one second and the next; thus it looked as though he and she were still standing, eyes glaring at each other, within the luxurious confines of his quarters in the Phrinnchatkan Temple of the Warriors of the Sith.

Yet utterly, chillingly, alone.

His eyes ignited again at what she had done... then he loosened his stance a bit, and slowly raised a clawed hand up between them. Even more slowly, he turned it palm up, and waved a bit about himself.

"You can drop the shield, Lady Q'utaro," he sneered, his eyes flashing in the dim lighting of the fire which yet flickered in the hearth nearby. "You yourself stated that none may breach it; none other can come to your rescue in this place as well, if you do not desire it. You may as well allow the sunlight to come in at daybreak; you know we cannot long survive without it."

Moving his imposing bulk carefully and with pantherish grace, he slowly turned his back and approached the great arched window of his quarters. A strange and utter blackness of non-being crashed against his eyes; with a slight intake of breath he turned around, cocking his horned head in Graysith's direction, nodding to her with a strange admixture of respect and hatred gleaming out from the depths of his soul.

[ 02-08-2003 12:36 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Dark Lord Roan ]

--------------------

The sight of him now literally sickened her.

"You must think me a fool, Ankrist," she finally responded with, not deigning to honor him by using the title he was wont to go by. For that title was indeed stolen; she would not let the honorific "Lord" associate itself with the devilish being now smirking in front of her.

"Should I drop the shield, you would easily take your leave of this place, and you know it. I do not forget that you have the All at your disposal as well; how could you believe I would forget this thing?"

She fell silent at that, her eyes widening a bit further as the belated reaction to the events she herself had precipitated suddenly slammed into her.

She was locked into the Elseness, probably for all eternity, with the foulest thing she had ever run across in her entire life....

Her knees suddenly began trembling; before she could display any weakness to the Sith, she moved to a nearby settee and gracefully lowered herself upon it, looking for all the universe that she was quite comfortable and happy about spending the remainder of her life in this manner.

She smiled a sweet smile, forcing the Glyph to back off in radiance, and waited.

--------------------

His eyes bored deeply into the violet ones before him.

"And what makes you think I would leave you?" he purred.

--------------------

Then she flared.

"Do not insult me with such an implication!" Her eyes flashed, and her hands fisted involuntarily against the cushions of the settee, pushing her into an upright sitting position. "We know there is a Lady in your life; these words you speak are nothing but a parody and an abasement to a feeling you know nothing about... unless it is love of yourself!"

She choked to a halt with those words, her hands working against the fabric of the cushions on which she sat, nothing but increasing disgust in her eyes and in her being.

[ 02-08-2003 02:05 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

--------------------

Something else.

"You believe you know so much, and so much about me," he finally began in a strangely quiet tone of voice. "Yet there is a great deal more of which you know nothing...nothing!"

He bit off the rest of what he was so obviously going to follow that assertation with, and just looked down at Graysith's trembling, defiant figure, so small and vulnerable there before him. At that look, the Chosen Daughter could not help but shiver; firming then, she raised the Claw-bearing hand in warning.

Roan threw back his head and let out a great roar of laughter at that.

"Take a care, Chosen One!" he finally gasped, reaching a fist to wipe actual tears of mirth from his eyes. Gaining control of himself, he studied that fist a moment longer. Then he released it, and once more crossed his arms across his chest, the movement further loosening the robe he yet wore to reveal rippling tattooes of varying size and design which covered his broad chest.

Broadening his stance he cocked his head and continued to stare deeply into her eyes, trapping hers with his turquoise pair, willing her to drop her defenses and listen to what words he might have to say. He remained motionless for an indeterminable amount of time before finally speaking up in a low whisper,

"There was a time when such posturing between us would have been unfathomable, Jharmeen."

Now he reached out one hand and lightly took up a lock of her hair. She stiffened perceptibly at that touch, but remained otherwise motionless upon the settee as though refusing to let him spark anything in her other than a mixture of disgust and a strange sort of aloofness. Her eyes stared stonily into his.

"What has turned you against me, Jharmeen?" he finally asked, letting the lock rain through his fingers like liquid fire. "Have I not completed your Great Destiny?

"Have I not brought forth the Sith from their untimely death, and have given them new life and new hope and new future?"

[ 02-08-2003 12:19 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Dark Lord Roan ]

--------------------

What had turned her against him?!?

For a moment all she could do was sit frozen in place, her jaw actually dropping, her eyes widening. Words and images and thoughts and memories came from nowhere as though someone had opened a giant spigot, allowing them to wash over her in wave after wave of undeniable proof. They battled behind her eyes for attention, before finally subsiding enough that she could finally regain control of herself.

She leapt to her feet, her eyes flashing outrage.

"What has turned me against you?!" she blurted, incredulous, now moving roughly past Roan's waiting form to begin pacing back and forth in the bedchamber. She shook her head, coming to a halt, and whirled to face him. A slim finger on the non-Claw bearing hand shot out in accusation.

"You took my sister, you took our children, you- you took me!" she began, stumbling only the slightest over the latter part before continuing on.

"You have brought nothing but pain and misery to me and those I love, all for your own designs, which quite obviously are to control the Sith and force them into an even more dire future than the one from which they have been given reprieve!

"We know you have an ally in the evil one who is coming; I have been aboard that vessel and seen them myself! As has my Adept, who's mind and emotions you play with as a child plays with his toys!

"You forcibly took my sister, and her daughter... who you then killed. You somehow took my own daughter... your own daughter..!"

She did not see the flash of what might have been pain come into brief existence upon the Sith's face.

"...and have turned her into a creature more base than one from Hell itself.

"You created children -- innocent children! -- and then performed abominations to Nature upon their defenseless souls!

"You machined the death of Lord Rean, and you would do the same with my Sire, and myself, and my husband and my son; indeed, to all those I hold dear and good and honorable.

"The closest approximation to anything good you might have committed was bringing back the Sith... but at what cost?"

She wound to a sputtering halt at that, unable to speak any longer so great was the shockwave of anger which rushed through her, increasing in intensity with every word she had spoken. Only the Glyph flared out in radiant effrontery, while within her breast the Beast yowled its mirrored rage.

[ 02-08-2003 12:51 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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No one spoke to a warrior lord of the Sith in such a manner.

His hand flashed to a nonexistent sword by his side, the motion followed briefly by his eyes. For a short moment he remained frozen in this odd position, his head tilted down as though embarrassed by the instinctive gaffe he had made.

But when he lowered his hand and raised his head, to once more demand the full attention of the Chosen Daughter, he was once more in full control of himself.

Again his lip curled, briefly exposing a fang to her view. She drew herself up even straighter at that, responding in like, her own lips curling, her nostrils flaring like those of a warhorse.

Another pregnant moment passed between them before Roan let something of his manner soften, and drew in a great breath.

"Yes-ss," he finally breathed, letting his hand drop once again to his side. Now it was his turn to move and he did so, striding to the window once again to stare out against that inpenetrable blanket of more than black which encapsulated the Temple. He spoke up again, his back to Graysith.

"Yes, I brought back the Sith, and at a cost greater than you should know," he whispered before falling into silence of a somewhat contemplative nature. Behind him, Graysith merely snorted.

The sound came easily into Roan's ears. His shoulders rose as he drew in yet another breath; then still facing away, he continued.

"I brought back my peoples," he repeated quietly, then turned to face Graysith. Their eyes clashed.

"But who do you think it was that destroyed them in the first place?"

--------------------

"What are these games you continue to play with me, Roan?" she finally spat, raking him up and down with an effronted look. "You know as well as I this page in your history book: it was the dark jedi who ravaged the Sith to an untimely death as a civilization, and wiped them from the face of the universe!"

--------------------

A disgusted yet somehow painful expression creased his face, and his eyes darkened to a blackness more complete than that which removed the Temple from the rest of the strange dimension the pair of them occupied.

Slowly he raised a hand, fisted so tightly that great corded tendons stood out upon his forearm, exposed in turn as the sleeve of his robe fell back to puddle about his bent elbow.

His eyes drilled holes into hers.

"No," he whispered at length.

"It was Aelvedaar... and Recinis... and Rean."

[ 02-08-2003 02:33 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Dark Lord Roan ]

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She did not summon the All.

She did not use the Claw, though she could have done so quite easily. She merely flew at him in blind outrage, one hand fisted and raised to strike that he dared utter such a blasphemy.

He caught her quite easily, holding her hand out to one side while the other grasped her about her waist, stopping her in her tracks. Holding her struggling form tightly, he stared down upon her long and meaningfully...

...until the red leeched from her eyes, until the Glyph began to quiet upon her brow, until the Beast ran out of breath from yowling and snarling...

...until she was at last able to realize that by moving as she had he could easily have used the All against her in some manner.

Yet he had not.

Slowly, slowly her breathing began to quiet, although it came nowhere near to its normal rate. The utter fury which had enveloped her at his succinct statement finally began to back off a bit, transforming into into yet another simple physical reaction.

Tremors racked her small frame as she began shivering uncontrollably, her mouth working, her eyes wide and filling with tears. She shook her head back and forth voicelessly, her mouth working before she finally found it within her to put something of her emotions into words.

"No-- it is not true! Why do you speak such lies?"

The simple statement was all she could muster, so overwhelmed was she by the very implications of Roan's announcement...

...as well as by his utter lack of physical action against her at this very moment, other than holding her that she could not harm him or herself in any manner.

--------------------

He waited until she lifted her face up to his of her own accord before speaking again.

"Think of all that has happened, Jharmeen," he began quietly. "The proof has been all about you all along. Indeed, if this--"

He cut himself off, raising a finger to lightly touch the skin of her forehead close to the Glyph, yet not actually touching that enigmatic sigil itself.

"If this had not been placed physically upon you, if the embodiment of the All had not been incorporated into your very being, you would never have been able to summon it's powers so one-sided have your perceptions been.

"Of no fault of your own."

He quieted a moment, letting his finger drop, waiting to see if she would try to renew her attack upon him. When she remained still, her eyes dropping, he lessened his hold upon her. She merely stood there in his loosened grasp, refusing to look up at him, as though somehow sensing that what he had to say was indeed not something she was going to find easy to take.

He pressed on.

"Think of what has happened, of the incongruity. Lord Aelvedaar states he found the All too late to protect the Sith from the dark jedi... yet he wields it with such proficiency, a proficiency one can only develop after lengthy study and practice! Do you think the magicks of the Sith were sufficient to reach forth four thousand years into the future... to find you... and to physically incorporate its heart and soul into your very essence?"

He paused for breath.

"And," he then continued. "What of this?"

Now he let loose his grip on the hand with which she had been trying to strike him, shifted his grip, and took hold of the hand which bore the Claw of S'slan. He yanked that hand up between them, forcing her to stare at it when he gave her hand a slight shake for emphasis.

"This is a weapon, one designed to use the All offensively, against a non-All user! How do you think it was developed, and so quickly... and why would a sorcerer have such a thing, a weapon clearly meant for a warrior of the Sith? And of even greater importance...

Why?"

Once again he paused, waiting for a reaction. There was none, other than a renewed series of shaking tremors which raced through her body. Pursing his lips, he pressed on, lowering his head so that his lips brushed against her ear.

"He wanted the Sith to himself, but the only way he could get the Claw was to promise a sharing of power to Lord Rean. They both knew the dark jedi were coming...

"...but were so jealous of the powers that our magickally inherent peoples would easily learn to command that he used that strength, with the Claw, to remove that magickal ability from my brethren! How else would one suppose they so easily fell before the small powers of the jedi?"

Roan paused for breath yet again. Still held in his arms, Graysith's trembling was slowly coming to a halt. However, she refused to meet his eyes; now he placed a clawed finger beneath her chin and forcibly raised her head so that she met his eyes with hers.

"He knew he would die in that attack, and to assure his resurrection he sent Lord Rean... and the son of Q'utaro! ahead in time in preparation for that very act. But you inadvertantly brought him into that future instead, and by the very power he emplaced within you.

"Yet all would work to his design: Recinis was indeed to keep you safe from harm, for you or your children were a necessity.

"For only a being with the All inherent to it would have the strength to fulfill his prophecy... that the Sith would return, but with him as their Lord and from a time after he had removed their magicks from them. In the beginning he had hoped that being would have been you. This I know; I have seen the look in his eyes when he in turn looks at you.

"I, however..." Once more he paused, taking a deep breath.

"I have thwarted him. A Dark Lord of Warriors -- for true holder of that title I am! -- is more than warrior; he is strategist. I have my spies. I learned from Lord Aelvedaar, who so foolishly believed himself so powerful that he committed the cardinal sin of over-confidence. I gained use of the All... I sent myself forward! ... and now I have brought forth the Sith, all in complete control of their magicks.

"I--" Now he stopped in mid-speech, actually gulping a bit to admit his one great failure.

"I contrived to meet you, and tried to woo you from Lord Aelvedaar's side. I failed."

Now he stopped altogether, his finger still beneath her chin, holding her head up that their eye contact remain steady. He fell silent, letting all he had divulged sink in and waiting to see how much of it she would believe.

--------------------

Yet that was the position she now found herself in.

She shivered again, her jaw working as everything within her rose up to deny Roan's words. Yet for some unfathomable reason they died a-borning, and she remained quiet, listening to their echoes in her mind.

Her thoughts flew back to the sudden arrival of Recinis; indeed unusual in itself... as well as for the manner her Sire had NOT made an appearance, presumably too "involved" in his magicks and leaving her and her Adept to deal with the wealth of unexpected guests who had come to them that day....

The day in Korriban, in the Valley of the Lords, when she confronted Lord Roan... and Recinis, her Protector, had stood nearby, non-helping, apparently weakened, failing in his duty... why? Knowing perhaps there were other get to take? To use? To bring back the Sith... willing to sacrifice her even then to his foe?

They flew with lightning rapidity to the day he took her as his Lady... an event transpiring with lightning speed itself... recalling who was present at that wedding... then to the birth of their son, hurriedly advanced in age... why indeed this great rush? To beat Roan at his own game, yet by manipulating a life in a manner her own Adept frowned so heavily upon; this she had sensed, but had ignored....

Her shivering grew. She shook her head in denial.

"No," she whispered, working her jaw and swallowing desperately to relieve the aching dryness in her throat. "No. It is not true; it cannot be true. You yet speak lies... lies...."

Yet she did not struggle for release. She did not move in Roan's grasp. She remained where she was, a Pandora's box of suggestions and doubts now opened in her mind, to let loose those spirits destined to haunt her dreams for the remainder of her life.

Why indeed would a Sorcerer have a weapon designed by a Weapon's Master, and for a warrior? And one specifically to use offensively against non-All users? How indeed had Aelvedaar learned to use the All so quickly, and so thoroughly?

Her head jerked; her eyes widened as another memory sliced into awareness.

That Book of the Sith which the jedi Paul Arakeen had come to her with, the one he stated had been destroyed. He said it spoke of how to use the All.

How could that Book have been written, if what Aelvedaar had told her was true? And if what the jedi spoke of was a lie, doubtful in itself as jedi do not lie, then how would he even have been aware of the All to proclaim its existence?

On and on her thoughts marched, circling round and round each other like two predators about to engage in battle with each other. And in the center of that circle, there floated eyes.

Two pair of eyes: one a brilliant turquoise, the other flaring emerald green.

They stared at her for an eternity, before they both closed their lids and retreated. Deep within her soul, the Beast flung back its head and yowled in pain and despair.

"Recinis...." Graysith whimpered, her eyes now flooding with tears. For quite suddenly she was convinced down to the innermost depths of her being that the Recinis she knew and loved would never come to her again. A wracking sob tore through her, and she would have fallen to the floor had it not been for Roan's hold upon her.

Then something wavering floated into her line of vision. She blinked through the tears which fell unimpeded from her eyes.

It was something familiar... a half of a tattoo... brilliant gold in color, and shining like a small sun. She blinked again, sobbing and gulping, and it took some time before she realized exactly what it was.

As well as whose wrist it was inscribed upon. The shock of that recognition broke through her misery, and her eyes flew wide, tears still trailing from them as she pinned a look upon Roan and made a final attempt to find falsity in his words.

"You would turn me against my Sire and my husband," she whispered. "You expect by your cunning that I will change mounts as quickly as that. Yet you are not selfless, Ankrist Roan. There is much pain and misery you have caused; why should I believe your words? How do I know that you yourself have not somehow manipulated events to proceed as they have?"

She stopped at that, her thoughts whirling and tumbling like a kaleidoscope, pausing to hold to inspect more closely two things and two things only, as if they were lifelines back to sanity and the truth:

That honor and love she felt for her husband... and the golden tattoo which yet blazed upon her wrist, even though it blazed inexplicably upon the wrist of Ankrist Roan as well.

[ 02-09-2003 02:09 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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"I had to do what I had to do," he said tersely, biting off each word as though it was something foreign and distasteful to him. "Aelvedaar had you... as did Lord--" He paused infinitesimally, scowling in disgust.

"--Recinis," he finally spat. "Not to mention your son was born between you two, and my own daughter -- our daughter, Jharmeen! -- had already been taken into the Night."

Graysith's head jerked up at that, her eyes widening in surprise. Roan placed a finger across her lips, silencing the retort he knew was forthcoming.

"I had nothing to do with what she has become, Jharmeen," he said slowly. "If you believe nothing else I speak, you must--" He ground to a halt, cocking his head, an unfathomable look coming into his eyes before he continued.

"Please believe me about this, Jharmeen. I am a Dark Lord of the Warriors, and as such I do have honor to uphold, as much as you might disbelieve that statement."

Now he loosened his hold on her; she tottered on her feet, prompting him to take her up and deposit her once more on the settee where she had first seated herself. He strode away from her then, going to the window to once more stare out upon that enigmatic blackness which roiled without, scowling. After some contemplation, he turned back to her.

"This is a simple matter," he said, holding out the tattoo. "It is a matter of challenge, when two families have equal right to entitlement. Recinis claimed that right to challenge when he took the tattoo upon himself, to then give you when he took you as his Lady. There is nothing dark or dastardly about it; the Great Library here will easily show you this to be true. It has happened once in awhile throughout our history. Perhaps you are not totally aware of our history in this regard; if you have visited the Library, you know it is programmed to respond in greater detail to specific questions rather than broader ones."

He fell silent then, his eyes narrowing. Graysith remained silent before him, staring dully in his direction. Whether or not she was heeding his words, even he himself did not know. He sighed, and continued.

"How could I ignite the tattoo, Chosen Daughter?" he asked her then, spreading out his arms to either side. "I renounced my magick when I renounced the Sith your husband and Sire were to bring into being; as a warrior I wished no part of a society of sheep, which is what they would become if he had succeeded in bringing them into the Now from a Then in which they had lost their magickal abilities.

"There was no way for me to pretend this!"

He came up to her in three great, sweeping strides and thrust his wrist beneath her nose again. "But far easier it is to gain it when the most powerful of the sorcerers is at hand, as must occur when challenge is formally finalized."

He fell silent again, staring down at her shivering form. She drew up her feet and wrapped her arms about her knees, as though trying to withdraw from his presence altogether, and turned her head away from the tattoo.

On her wrist, her own gleamed like polished gold. Before her eyes, visions of her son and her daughter swam. And another... she raised her head to him now, opening her mouth.

He read the question in her eyes, and answered before it was asked.

"Your niece is not dead, Jharmeen," he finally admitted slowly. "The one I killed... had to kill... was yet a clone, one advanced in age. Your own niece is alive and well in the Capital Stilt City of the Kaminoan cloners, and yet a babe. I admit... I commanded her destruction, but I later discovered they had disobeyed that command. Events then transpired too quickly for me to return to them; she is not dead, as you have been led to believe."

He held a clawed hand up to her then, staving off the rage which began to fire in her eyes.

"You know what the All demands, Jharmeen," he said quickly, finishing with, "I was forced to do what I had to do, for the sake of my peoples, even as you yourself stated so many times was commanded by your own destiny.

"Jharmeen." Now he walked to her, daring to place his hands about her shoulders. She trembled there, the Glyph flashing, but yet did not speak or attempt to strike.

"You have the ability to kill me here, now, where I stand. Should you decide that is the course of action best to take, on my honor as a Sith and the Dark Lord of Warriors I shall not retaliate. But I say this unto you:

"Go back. Leave me here, return to Khar Delba. Investigate on your own, find the proof you need. I shall remain here, in this Elseness, beneath your chronotic shield, truly helpless, and willingly shall I place myself here. If you do not return, then I shall die here as well, alone."

--------------------

All she had was a knot in her stomach, which was growing larger and larger, coiling tighter and tighter with each passing second. Yet from somewhere else, a spark of warmth came flickering in, trying to loosen that knot.

Her niece... little JhinDarra.

Alive.

That if nothing else pointed out the direction she now had to follow. But in taking the first step along that particular path....

She paused, then raised the Claw. Pointed it at Roan.

Struggled with herself... and slowly lowered it. Glared at Roan... and with a great yet wordless exclamation ripped that Claw from her finger and threw it at him.

It fell to his feet with a clatter, to lay gleaming redly in the flickering firelight.

"I would die here anyway," she managed to choke, and silenced herself, watching as Ankrist then stooped down and picked up the deadly weapon. He held it in his great clawed hand, staring down upon it wordlessly.

Then he held it out to her.

"I seek no part of this dishonorable thing."

She did not know if the words were real or imagined on her part. But what was an undeniable truth was the image of the towering Sith, standing there, his eyes ablaze, offerring the weapon back.

She gulped and reached out a hand, took it back, and with a grimace slammed it on her finger.

"You are a skilled game master, Roan," she whispered, her eyes darkening. "Now we shall see exactly what game it is that is afoot."

With that she raised an arm, dropping the shield. Sunlight flooded the room through the great arched window, putting the blazing fire to shame. She did not turn into that light, but remained where she was, facing Roan.

He remained motionless. Then he strode to the settee and sat down, placing his hands atop his knees. His eyes met hers, and he nodded but once. Then he closed his eyes.

Graysith's mouth worked, a great heat as though from a thousand suns suddenly filling her being, their energies pounding behind her eyes. With a wave of one arm she opened a doorway through the All back to the Temple in Khar Delba, and with a final glance at the quiet Sith stepped through.

The portal snapped closed with an imperceptible snikk. The chronotic shield dropped its omnipotent blanket over the Temple of the Warriors.

Hidden in the Elseness, quiet in his bedchamber in a universe of one, Ankrist Roan began to wait.

((OOC: Follow Graysith back to Shall We Dance? in the "Jedi/Sith" forums, thank you.))

--------------------

She came to an awakening as gradual as it was difficult. It seemed to her on some unconscious level of being that she had been scrabbling upward for lifetimes, like a swimmer who has gone too deep and who's supply of air has run out. Through level after level of varying shades of darkness she moved, forcing herself along, until finally it was as if she had reached the last of a great many curtains dividing her from reality, tore that curtain asunder, and woke up.

It took a moment or two to recognize the fact that she lay on a bed. A somehow familiar bed... the very one she had shared with Recinis in the Temple of Warriors on K'eel Doba. A form pressed the mattress beside her... for a moment her heart leapt...

Recinis!

...until memory freshened, forcing her to look. It was the silent figure of ShaRhylla, her flaming locks framing a face nearly as white as ice.

Graysith shivered with the cold the sight of that form invoked in her, and sat up. Her hand trembled as she reached out toward her daughter... paused... then continued, finally coming to rest on her hair. There it lay with the light touch of a bird's wing upon the air, until motherly instincts took over entirely and she smoothed that hair back from the icy, pale forehead, continuing onward to stroke the supple locks, that hand being suddenly joined by its companion as her other hand came up of its own accord to wrap about her daughter's body in a fierce and anguished embrace.

Lifetimes passed in which there was room for nothing other than the Chosen Daughter and her chosen grief. She sat upon the bed, rocking her child in her arms, weeping. And then at length, when all the tears she could ever loosen were finally spent, tears not only for what she had done to ShaRhylla but flowing out of the aching hole in her heart, she quieted and gently laid ShaRhylla back down upon the bed.

It was only then that the incongruity of her position struck her. Her eyes widened and the Glyph flared as she started at that recognition, now sliding from the bedcovers to stand beside the bed.

How in all the universe had she gotten here?

No sooner had the thought formed than it was answered by an unexpected source. She stumbled against the bed as she whirled to where a shadowed figure sat quietly in a darkened corner from which he had been watching her all along.

[ 02-13-2003 12:42 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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"Either your teacher neglected to inform you of a great many things, or you weren't as observant a student as I thought, Jharmeen," he said quietly, all pretense of superciliousness gone from him. His eyes cut to the quiet form laying on the bed, then returned to Graysith's violet pair.

"I had the ability all along to not only depart from the elseness in which you placed me, but to drop your shield as well. Jharmeen, recall you not? Trapping me against my will beneath that shield only allows me to use the All to drop it in defense; have you forgotten everything my Brother has taught you? Or did he merely gloss over this one aspect of All usage in his education of you?"

He paused a bit as though waiting for an answer. When none was immediately forthcoming, he continued.

"You will find yourself in K'eel Doba... the K'eel Doba of reality. This is the K'eel Doba for which I have you to thank: the one restored to a life cruelly taken from it, the one in which my peoples live yet again.

"As does my mate."

He paused again with that, his lips curling in a fond smile. Then he closed the distance between them, and took her by her shoulders.

"None of this would have been possible without your blood, and for that I must accede apology to Lord Aelvedaar. But for that reason, and that reason only. In all other regards, I spit in his face for what he would have done to my peoples."

Again he paused, reading the depth of the hurt his words caused to come flooding into her eyes... but a hurt not entirely of his own making. Clearly he could read the fact that much of what he had already revealed had been substantiated by what she had found in Khar Delba; he didn't press any further, but simply went on to another topic, letting her continue to come to conclusions of her own.

Now he waved a hand toward the still form of their daughter.

"I could not leave her there, Jharmeen... neither could I leave you. The evil which had taken her, as well as the body of your first love is great... you must believe me when I say I know of this evil. At any moment it might indeed have returned. My honor as a warrior would not let me stand by in silence."

His turquoise eyes slid to the quiet form on the bed, then returned to Graysith.

"She shall become again what she was before he corrupted her: our daughter, and a strong one. Child of my loins, she has a road of her own to travel... as does the unborn child of my wife."

His smile broadened, becoming somehow softer, an expression which suddenly did not seem so much an oxymoron upon his face. He nodded toward her, continuing.

"There are challenges ahead, Jharmeen," he began. "Challenges to the title yet unmade. Whether this be via the return of your own husband, or from his son to my children... and at that, depending on which of the two shall prove the stronger and thus most worthy of that title to Heir of the Warriors of the Sith."

A look of understanding flashed between them. Then his eyes fell to her wrist, glanced meaningfully at his own, and he continued.

"Know this, Jharmeen Q'utaro. As long as that flashes golden upon your wrist, then bride to the challenger you are. As long as it flashes on mine, then challenge to right of entitlement remains unanswered. In the meantime, I am seen as Dark Lord of the Warriors, and my wife Kreesha as Lady to them.

"And you, my dear, now find yourself in a singular position, hovering between two worlds, your destiny fulfilled. Whatever shall you do?"

He finally silenced at that, although the look now crossing his face clearly indicated he knew the answer to that final question. He let his arms drop from her shoulders, and moved past her to stand beside the bed, staring quietly down upon the still form of the daughter they had created between them.

((OOC: Follow Roan and Graysith back into Shall We Dance? in the "Jedi/Sith" forums, thank you.))

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