OOM:Coronation

[last_kallig]

The past week has been a busy one for Lady Kallig and her knight. Her situation is not unprecedented, there have been plenty of commoners in Alderaan's history who have been elevated to the nobility and needed to learn to fit in quickly.

Her tutors were quite impressed at her ability to pick things up. She shared the bitter amusement with Garyn that none of their previous charges must have had their lives riding on lessons as the norm. Being unarmed still makes her uneasy, but she doesn't have to fight the urge to twitch anymore when someone moves near her suddenly.

At the moment, a small army of helpers are helping her get ready for the coronation. Makeup, clothes, jewels, hairstyle, it's quite the production. Extensive preparations for a different kind of battle.

Her House's banner hangs over the dressing table: The red and black symbol of Fire and Water on a white field.

(OOC: Warning for vague adult content)

Comments

[last_kallig]

The getup Ibani is wearing would be ruinously expensive if she were actually paying for it. It turns out that if you are sufficiently famous, or infamous, dressmakers and jewelers will just GIVE you things to wear. Advertising, as it were.

The dress subverts current fashion trends, is a long, single layer as opposed to multiple ones. The fabric is black with an opalescent sheen that shimmers blue, red, and green even with motions as small as breathing. Black opals in heavy gold hang around her neck, from her ears, around her wrists. More of them are worked into her artificially extended up-do.

The make-up artist is currently hiding the scars under her eye, the ones that have marked her for as long as she can remember. It turns out that with the right money and connections, they CAN be hidden.

Her Force presence is pulled tight to her body, dimmed, but Garyn is just close enough that she can reach out and speak to him mind to mind. "How are you holding up, love?"

[moonandstar]

"As well as can be expected, oh great Lady Kallig. I have guarded nobles before, at parties and otherwise."

His teasing tone comes through even in his mind.

[last_kallig]

Her mental chuckle echoes in his mind, though it doesn't show on her face. The make-up artist is applying more traditional makeup now, to 'keep her complexion from being washed out by the lighting'. Which is a thing that can happen, apparently.

The green eye-shadow does bring out the color in her eyes. "And here you are guarding me, bearer of an empty title. Such a downturn in your fortune." But her mental tone is also teasing.

[moonandstar]

"On the contrary, I can think of no other noble in whose service I would feel so much honor...or any honor at all."

[last_kallig]

It takes some constriction of blood vessels to keep from blushing.

"You'll make me blush. she tells him. Ibani's opinion on 'high heeled ladies shoes' can best be expressed by rude hand gestures, but they seem to be a must.

"At least current fashion dictates gloves," she says as the last bit of her 'armor' is applied. He can follow her train of thought through their connection; that the idea of so many strangers TOUCHING her is unpleasant and that she is ashamed of that 'weakness' in herself.

[moonandstar]

"And at least I get to wear armor. I've never much liked capes."

[last_kallig]

"They have their uses, so long as they are designed to come loose when caught. The cloth on the back of Ibani's armor is very capelike after all.

"And you get to be armed. I miss my lightsabers." The ebony blade fits quite nicely with his current aesthetic, and is a deadly weapon.

Ibani thanks her helpers, then turns gracefully toward the door. The mask of her identity very much in place, showing no nerves, no irritation, only a polite smile

[moonandstar]

"You can always kill people with your mind if it comes to it," Garyn says, only half-seriously. "Or, failing that, just ask me nicely to do it for you."

Garyn doesn't move and continues to stand vigil, looking very much capable of doing just that.

[last_kallig]

"My valiant knight," her tone is warm, not sarcastic. "I would never get through THIS without you.

He'll need to move to follow her soon as she nears the door.

The palace is grand, vast, at least this portion of it. Those sections damaged by the civil war have been closed off, hidden from view. The hallway is clear of everyone except servants, though that won't be the case forever.

[moonandstar]

Garyn strides confidently alongside her, letting his cape flap behind him. Much as he resents it, he knows well how to use it for dramatic effect. He's here to look tough and intimidating, and that's what he means to do.

[last_kallig]

Two people are waiting for them farther along the hall, one clearly a nobleman and the other his bodyguard.

"Prince Faal, the queen's younger brother, and his bodyguard." Ibani tells Garyn through their connection. To Garyn's eyes, Prince Faal probably looks like a native of Hammerfell.

The prince bows as Ibani approaches, "Lady Kallig, you are a vision." The bodyguard is paying attention to Garyn, more than anyone has thus far, but MOST of his attention is on Ibani. It seems he thinks SHE'S the greater threat to his charge.

Ibani curtsies. "If I am a vision, it is entirely due to the skills of experts in their fields, Prince Faal," she replies, tone dry.

The prince's smile widens. "Even an expert's skill is constrained by the material with which they are working, Lady Kallig." Ibani can feel a flicker of desire from the Prince and a flicker of aggravation from the bodyguard at that statement. Given their connection right now, Garyn can feel those things too.

[moonandstar]

Garyn is, fortunately, more or less meant to be scowling right now, so his expression doesn't change. He knows full well there's no danger from the prince's flirtations. He does, however, give the bodyguard a quick lookover. Just in case.

[last_kallig]

The bodyguard's annoyance seems to be with the prince rather than with Garyn or Ibani, from what he can tell. It looks as if Garyn isn't the only one who doesn't appreciate the prince flirting with Ibani.

"Perhaps," Ibani allows. Polite, but nothing more than that.

Prince Faal's smile doesn't fade. "It seems the Jedi Order has decided to send a representative to the coronation, one Nomar Organa."

That's...not great. The knowledge that Ibani has fought Nomar and his padawans and beat them rather thoroughly slips into Garyn's mind.

"I've heard he is a model jedi, and given his connections to House Organa the fact that they would choose him isn't entirely surprising," Ibani replies, voice entirely even.

"Indeed," the prince's smile turns wry. Something on his person beeps, and he sighs quietly. "Alas, duty calls. There's much to see too before thing start in earnest. Farewell, Lady Kallig."

The two take their leave and Ibani resumes her pace forward. "It WOULD be Nomar Organa," she complains to Garyn.

[moonandstar]

"An eerie thing, to break bread with a person when you would sooner break bones."

Garyn lets a hint of mirth creep into his grim mask of an expression.

[last_kallig]

"Indeed." Ibani appreciates the hint of mirth in his expression right now. "It could be worse, could be the head of the Order. SHE'S seen my real face and heard my real voice over a holocom before I beat up HER apprentice and killed a target she was protecting."

There is the sound of quite a lot of people up ahead, bright lights, all the sounds of a grand party in the beginning stages. "With my Force presence suppressed, he might not even recognize me out of my armor.

[moonandstar]

"Let's hope so."

Garyn's hands are a little nearer his scabbard now.

"If she does, she'll have to go through me before she tries anything."

[last_kallig]

"If the head of the Order is here and wants to start something, we're BOTH running for it." Ibani's tone is earnest. "She nearly killed a member of the Dark Council by dropping a substantial portion of a mountainside on him, and she can block a lightsaber BARE HANDED."

"But they wouldn't have bothered sending Nomar Organa if the head of the Order was going to be here."

The coronation space is huge and lavishly decorated. The nobles below are dressed in their very best, color and wealth on display in dizzying variety. The most important in attendance have bodyguards at their sides. As she comes down the stairs, it becomes clear that she's the only person in the throng wearing black.

She can feel the tamped down agressions, the bitter rivalries, the petty grievances simmering. She pushes them away from Garyn's awareness after a moment. No point in BOTH of them suffering.

[moonandstar]

"You know if it came to it I would try anyway."

If it's possible to whisper a thought, he's doing it. His face is solemn, indicative of just how much he means it.

[last_kallig]

"I know." Love, affection, admiration along with the words, a caress across his mind.

Where Ibani passes, the crowd ripples a bit, their attention caught by her. No one is moving toward her yet, trying to angle deals or pump her for information. It's pretty clear that most of them have at least SOME idea that 'Lady Kallig' is a Sith, given the sudden increased wariness of their bodyguards.

[moonandstar]

Which means that Lady Kallig's bodyguard has to be all the warier. He keeps his sword conspicuously visible. And to those watching, the black and terrible hilt of Sholagmer by itself removes any doubt of his lady's Sith origins, despite having nothing to do with them.

[last_kallig]

People do approach, after a while. Young people, mostly teenagers. An uncharitable soul might call them the more disposable members of their lineages. They share bodyguards, none of them being important enough to have one of their very own. The bodyguards are wary of Lady Kallig, and wary of Garyn too. What kind of monster would a Sith choose as a bodyguard, choose to carry such a weapon?

The gossip that they share is mostly useless to her, but she knows how to nod and say a few things in the appropriate places. The crowd grows older with more of them sporting bodyguards of their own as time passes.

Ibani shares with him the mental image of a Nexu, a great predatory cat-like creature, pacing inside a cage. "People are eager enough to see and gawk at the caged beast when they're sure they're not going to get maimed." She feels trapped here, exposed, but there's nothing to be done but bear it.

[moonandstar]

Almost unbidden, the image of a caged nix-hound Garyn had seen in the Imperial City comes to mind. How it had snarled with its predatory mandibular jaws. The Old Mer had simply snorted and said that he had seen bigger and meaner.

"Indeed. And it's the children who come to stare first."

[last_kallig]

"I'd certainly like to snarl, but I'm afraid that's out of the question."

She's not surprised at the Old Mer's reaction in his memory, he seems the type.

She senses Nomar Organa at the edge of the throng, but he's not approaching her. She can't tell what he's actually feeling as he's hiding his emotions.

There is dancing starting up, something very like a waltz. Which means the people dancing are far closer to one another than Garyn might be used to, possibly to an indecent degree depending on how conservative his world is about such things.

[moonandstar]

In fact, by Leyawiin standards it is far from unheard of. He hasn't been to a ball in Morrowind, though - perhaps it would cause a stir there. Or perhaps not.

Garyn will be watching alongside the other bodyguards.

[last_kallig]

Ibani excuses herself from as much dancing as she feels she can get away with. She manages a polite smile when she feels she HAS to dance, and even though none of her partners push the bounds of propriety she hates every minute of their hands on her.

"The only one I WANT to be doing this with is you, Garyn." She tells him as she comes back into range to reach him mind to mind with her Force presence tamped down like this.