The life debt has been paid. Spare my father now and I will be your willing bride. The throne will be yours.

Stars //Sith!Obi-Wan x Pregnant!Reader

Request:   Heya! First of all, I just want to say, wow!!! I loved wvry word of the Vader x Reader you did, and reading your notes, I really don't mind it as an AU! I've never really read anything to do with Sith Obi-Wan before, though to be fair I only just got into Star Wars again 😅 This isn't really a request, but from what I can see from your posts, you seem to really like Obi-Wan, well, Ewan Mcgregor in general 😂I wanted to ask if you could write another x Reader, but this time a Sith Obi-Wan AU?Thanks for reading! -Red ❤ p.s, @rey-is-not-a-skywalker, you're welcome for requesting the sith x reader, I guess you're obsessed as I am 😂 p.s the second, I'm loving the new pfp!

Requested by: ​Red

Summary: The reader has some news for Sith Lord Obi-Wan Kenobi

Warnings: The reader is AFAB, pregnancy

Words: 1.7K

Notes: You would be correct in assuming I love Obi-Wan and Ewan McGregor as a whole. Also I’m glad you like the new pfp! I am also in love with it! :)  Did I self indulge with this oneshot? I think you know the answer. Leave me alone, I am too much of a simp at this point.  I have never been pregnant, so some of this may be inaccurate. 

Not my gif

An old Jedi’s fall from grace was a never a pretty sight to see, it was no glorious tale to tell from any side. It was full of hurt, pain, hatred, suffering. This was more than true for the fallen Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. His downfall was the least expected out of those who turned away from the light, he had always been the most loyal of men, the most faithful of soldiers.  Perhaps, in part at least, this was what drove him away from his original allegiance. He was an exceptional leader of course, the most fantastic of generals, but besides that, in the larger picture, to the Jedi Order as a whole he was nothing more than a faceless defender of the galaxy. Just another of the tens of thousands Jedi.  Another factor that led to the man’s path to the dark side, was you. What you made him feel. The passion, the love. An indescribable feeling, all he could say about it was that it was truly wonderful. He did not mind the fear, or the hatred that came with it, for you made it all worth it. The massive highs compared to the lows outweighed them greatly, and thus he gave it all for and to you. His passion, his loyalty, his love. Everything he had, every fiber of his being, he gave it all to you. If he could turn the worlds on theirs heads, and you gave the word, he’d do it. 

You had initially been shocked at the man’s sudden change of life-plans and of loyalty. Though, the more you thought about it, the more you began to convince yourself, perhaps he had made the right choice. He wasn’t so uptight in regards to public affection now- he’d often smother you with kisses in front of company, or hold your arm or hand as you wander about in cities or halls. Despite the Sith being the darker beings of the Force, the life you now lived was almost... Peaceful. After a while, you very much enjoyed it. There weren’t so many rules now, and you both felt free.  Though, not everything about your new life was free or peaceful. There were times that Obi-Wan was pulled away from you much like in the way he was during the times of the Republic and the Jedi Order. He’d be wrenched from your embrace for weeks or months at a time, and the holocom conversations you shared were not the same as actual conversations. The comforting presence you both gave to one another were missing, and it was painfully obvious to the pair of you. 

One particular night, whilst Obi-Wan had been away, you were staring out at the stars- each of them twinkling from their position on the blanket of the night from their positions thousands of light-years away. They fascinated you every night, though you knew some of the planetary systems by name and had visited a few yourself, you couldn’t help but imagine what could be hiding away on them,  what could be awaiting discovery. They also distracted you from something plaguing your mind on this particular night, something you needed to get off of your chest. It had been bothering you more and more over the last few days, ever since you had made the discovery. 

You are brought from your train of thought by the bleeping of your comm. You move leisurely to answer it, there was only one person who could be calling you at this time of night, but you knew he wouldn’t mind you taking a moment longer than usual. You answer your lover’s call, and a murmur on the other end of the line hushes- he must have been talking to someone as he awaited your answer. “Ah, my beloved.. I thought you had fallen asleep.” He mused quietly, his smug expression clear even through the blue hologram, and you can’t help but chuckle at him.  “No. I was looking out at the stars,” You tell him, plainly. Sunsets and night skies held a special place in both of your hearts; you had spent many nights on Coruscant looking out at them, telling each other the wishes you had made on shooting stars that you rarely saw. You heard Obi-Wan sighed quietly. He knew your habits when he was away, and what they meant. “I should be returning soon, my dear.” He assured you, lowering his voice to nothing more than a whisper. “I am trying to get this done, you know, but it’s not as easy as-”  “I know, I know.” You cut him off, wrapping your arms around yourself, looking down at the floor. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Obi-Wan’s brows furrows, clearly he’s noticed your odd behaviour. 

“Something’s bothering you.” Obi-Wan notes, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his long robe. “Tell me,” He demanded. Though his tone was soft, it was still very much a command. You start to shake your head at him.  “I would rather not... Not over the comm.” You start, looking over to his projection. He looks even more concerned than before- partially because you disobeyed an order from him, and partially because you were willingly withholding information from him. You never did either of those things, not with him. You were both in balance, and trusted each other completely. He knew this had to be incredibly serious for you to say something like this.  “Then I shall return immediately.” He no longer cared for his assignment; he would much prefer that he knew you were safe and out of harm’s way. You start to shake your head more frantically.  “No, Kenobi- you must finish the task the Emperor has given you, he-”  “Can wait.” Obi-Wan finished abruptly. You could tell from the way he stood and held himself- chest out, shoulders back, spine rigid and straight-  that he could not be swayed on this. “He can wait.” He repeated, wanting the words to sink in, for you more than himself. “I will be returning, whether you agree with me or not. I will be back by the morning.” And with that, those final harsh words, he ended the call. You sighed quietly, running your hands over your face in exasperation and stress. You hadn’t wanted to pull your lover away from the mission he had been given, you had wanted to wait just a few more days till he returned as had been planned. You sighed deeply, moving away from the comm, heading towards bed as you strip off your clothes.  You nestle under the covers, wrapping your arms around yourself for some comfort. 

By morning, you were well rested. As your eyes started to crack and flutter open, you became acutely aware of the arm around your waist, and the head buried into the back of your neck. You shuffle slightly to look over your shoulder, smiling slightly at the peaceful expression on the face of the sleeping man behind you. By rights, you didn’t even have to turn over to know that it was Obi-Wan, you knew the feel of his aura and his touch. Still, it provided a sense of comfort, knowing with more certainty that it was him. You shuffle round to face him fully, brushing some of his auburn locks away from his closed eyes. His nose scrunches ever so slightly at the contact; and he too starts to wake up. It’s a slow process for him, and always had been. Even during his time serving the Order; though your mornings together were few and far between, you had noticed this little pattern of his. His eyes crack open like yours had done, and a drowsy smile moves over his lips.  “Good morning, darling...” He yawned softly, before pressing a gentle kiss to your jaw. “You look stunning...” He told you, his lips still pressed against your skin as he gave you the compliment- no doubt the first of many that morning.  “You flatter me, Obi..” You murmur in reply, and presses kiss after feather-light kiss over your jaw and neck.  “I speak only the truth for you, my love...” He trailed off for a moment, as he started to push himself up onto his elbows. “Now... Onto business...” He mused, “You still need to tell me what’s bothering you.” He pointed out, and he was right, as he often was. “So, I would start talking, my dear.” 

Though his demeanour is playful, you know you shouldn’t argue this time around. You sit up, leaning against your pillows as your try to think of how to start talking about your recent discovery- despite it’s wonderful connotations, it was not as easy as one might think. “Obi...” You begin.  “Darling.” He replied, hardly missing a beat.  “I have some... Rather pleasing news.” He nods, prompting you to continue. “You... Are going to be a father.”  It takes him a moment to actually register your words, for their meaning to sink in. He practically tackles you back into the bed when it clicks somewhere in his mind, the widest smile on his face. He’s laughing breathlessly, hardly able to believe the news or contain his excitement because of it.  “Is it so?” He asked, his hand splaying over your stomach as he spoke. “My, my...” He mumbled- and it was moments like this that showed how much he had changed from his old ways. Had you given such news to him whilst he was still a Jedi- he would have panicked at first, asked if you wished to keep the child, and if you had done he would have likely asked you to leave to a slightly more rural planetary system. He had no fear now, and so didn’t need to ask you. He accepts it with ease in these times, and is more than happy to receive such news.  He had no fear in rearing a child now, so long as you wished for it too. He paused as this thought washed over him, then gave you a curious look. “Are we... Keeping the child?” He asked, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.  “I think we could be wonderful parents... If you’re not away so much.” You poke your finger into his chest.  “Alright... I will discuss it...” He mused, resting his head near you abdomen, gazing at it in wonder. He could hardly believe that your child- the fruits of both of you- was growing there, and he was more than just excited to meet his child. He pulled you close again, whispering sweet nothings and reassurances as the morning wound on, till you eventually fell asleep again in his arms, comforted by his presence. 

Erawan with Bangs: A Fanfiction

I hate y’all for making me write fanfiction for this goddamn series. This is not my best work, but I wanted to contribute to this extraordinary idea, and my lack of art skills would be a disservice to the EWB cult community. People mentioned by name: @crescentcitysux @croissantcitysucks @antisjmmemes . Obligatory tag: @erawanwithbangs . This was barely researched, so it’s probably inaccurate in places, but I refuse to devote precious time to this shitty world. This got a lot longer than I expected, and it’s also the first time I’ve actually written in a while, so forgive me for the low quality.

Erawan, King of the Valg, Ruler of Darkness, future Emperor of all Erilea, was taking a walk through Morath. 

Being such a powerful, dastardly monarch of evil was a tiresome job, and walking through his former vessel’s city and reveling in his power and authority was always an enjoyable past-time. All was silent as he strolled through the streets of the mountainside city, breathing in the crisp, cool air and surveying his territory. Even his fellow Valg, not that he shared any resemblance to them beyond origin, stayed away, sensing the power he possessed and steering their human hosts away, pausing only to bow in deference, wholly black eyes lowered to the dirt, before departing. As they should. He was King of the Valg, and he would not tolerate impudence. He was special, different, not like the hordes of common demons. His only equals were his brothers, his fellow monarchs, still barred from entering Erilea. For now.

He paused mid-step as his gaze spotted the edges of a cloak whipping around the corner of a crumbling stone building, eyes narrowing as he quickened his pace. There was something foreign about whoever he was approaching, he could sense it. They didn’t have that oily, hissing black aura that accompanied the Valg, nor the blood and iron scent of the Witches, or even the ashes and cream that followed the Fae. Whatever it was, it closely resembled that of humans, the stale white bread and salty tang of seawater, but there was something else. Something new.

“Hey, you!” he snapped as he rounded the corner and caught sight of the person whose species still eluded him. There were three people, and he caught a variety of different impressions: drying ink, old parchment, rain on pavement, dust-filled libraries. They were dressed in mortal clothing, but it was nothing like the modest, formal rags he was accustomed to. It was all short sleeves and denim, strange pictures covering their shirts. “I demand to know who you are and what your business is in my city.”

They blinked at him, turning to each other and conversing in hushed whispers before one of them spoke. “I’m Aelia,” she said, and then pointed to her companions. “That’s Lyn, and that’s Salty. We’re here on vacation.”

“...Vacation. Here. In Morath. In Valg territory.”

“Yes, that’s what she said,” the one called Salty said, rolling their eyes. “Our world got annoying, with all their bickering and pandemics and fires and refusal to stop perpetuating outdated views on race, gender, and sexuality, so we decided to come here.”

“You’ve got a very nice city here, Erawan,” Lyn said, a very serious look on her face. “Very evil-looking. I’m getting a ton of demonic vibes. Love it.” They exchanged conspiritorial glances and burst into peals of laughter. He exhaled sharply through his nose.

“I don’t know how you know my name, and I don’t know mortals like you got into Morath, but you will leave, and you will leave now, or I will make you.” He raised his hands, and tendrils of writhing darkness slid from the centre of his palm, winding around his fingers and up his arms. But rather than looking frightened or intimidated, they continued laughing, and the last of his patience evaporated at their disrespect. With a snarl, he flung out his hands, twin whips of shadow lashing out at the trio of mortals who dared make fun of a Valg King.

Aelia raised an eyebrow. “Chill out, Erawan. Take a joke.” They flicked their wrists, and his darkness dissipated. Furrowing his pale brows, he tried again, but they again vanished before touching the humans.

“Well, you’ve been a very impolite host, Erawan,” Lyn said, looking disappointed. “We were going to stay longer, but I suppose we’re not welcome here. Come on, guys.”

“By the way, your forehead is massive,” Aelia added as they span on their heels and began walking off. “Maybe you should get bangs to cover it!”

“Erawan with bangs!” Salty exclaimed, and with a final howl of laughter, they disappeared, leaving him standing in the middle of the street. He had never felt more insignificant, more powerless. How easily they had humiliated him!

Hours later, he was still fuming over the incident as he stood in front of his mirror, examining the ivory expanse of his forehead. It’s a perfectly ordinary forehead, he reasoned to himself, measuring the width of it and frowning. Those intruders were just trying to annoy you, to make you doubt yourself. But they had succeeded; he had never realised just how big his forehead had been until they had so casually told him. It was so large! The universe had made him beautiful beyond reason, but it had not deigned to give him a normal-sized forehead. He withheld the urge to slam his fist into the mirror, instead thinking of a better solution. 

With a wave of his hand, the hair at the top of his head began growing at an accelerated rate, and he brought it down to his lips, picking up the scissors on the table and leaning in so that his nose was pressed against the glass. He would have preferred for one of his brothers to do the deed, but they were not here, and he needed to remedy the problem immediately. His hand wavered as he figured out where to start, but with his scissors splayed open and readied at the bottom of his eyes, he began to cut.

A few snips was all it took, as well as a few more stylistic ones. Discarding the strands of golden-blond, he stepped back and grinned, admiring his new haircut. While before his hair had been slicked back, revealing all of his gargantuan forehead, now there was a healthy set of bangs concealing his greatest shame from sight. They reached his brows, thicker in some sections and thinner in others, creating a fantastic layering effect and breaking up what would be a horrific straight line. He nodded in appreciation.

But when he turned, a flash momentarily blinded him. When he blinked away the harsh light, he was greeted with the three insolent mortals, all holding a small rectangular contraption which had been responsible for the light. They were comparing something on the rectangles and giggling. His fingers twitched, but he refrained from trying to strike at them again.

“Oh my god,” Salty squeaked, flailing their arms. “Erawan! With! Bangs!”

“The people need to know about this,” Lyn declared.

“We’ve created a monster,” Aelia sighed, but there was no regret on her face.

“Hey,” he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you making fun of me? I like my bangs!”

They quieted and stared at him, gazes penetrating, until he had to tear his eyes away. When he dared look back at them, they were nodding to each other in agreement.

“Bye, Erawan with bangs!” they said, giving him mocking, cheerful waves as they once again disappeared, just avoiding the scissors that he had thrown at them. They instead sailed through empty air and ripped through the fabric of his favourite shirt. He could practically hear Aelia, Lyn, and Salty’s jeers of laughter, their cries of “Erawan with bangs!”

When later the Valg princes asked about the screams of rage that had shaken the whole city, he would blame it on that sex-obsessed, fire-wielding nuisance of a queen. The searches he ordered to hunt down three strangely-dressed, rectangle-holding mortals turned up empty.

Project Compass 11

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This time: Thrawn tells Ezra a story. Un’hee takes matters into her own hands.

Next time: Thrawn and Eli visit Thrass at the Mitth family estate on Copero. Thrass is brought up to speed on developments within the CDF.

-/

“Thrawn?” Ezra waved a hand in front of his face. He hadn't responded in nearly thirty seconds, withdrawing hard into his thoughts. When the Chiss finally blinked, he ventured, “You alright?”

“I am fine,” Thrawn said slowly. His tone was normal, and his face was characteristically expressionless. It was his eyes that betrayed him. “I have much to think about,” He said. “Thank you for informing me-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Ezra said, kicking off his boots beside Thrawn’s bed in an act of courtesy while ignoring his obvious dismissal. “If it’s all the same to you, I’m going to meditate in here.” There was a spark to the Force-sensitive human’s eyes that said he’d be sticking to Thrawn, whether he liked it or not.

“As you wish.”

The lack of a stern refusal or glare, even the slightest tick of his mouth to indicate his displeasure did not come. Ezra thought that was rather telling, as much as the shock radiating off Thrawn in the Force. Ezra kneeled at the edge of Thrawn’s bunk and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and preparing himself to sink into the familiar waters of meditation.

Thrawn was not a being who slumped, but when Ezra reached out with the Force, he felt the pressure of the older man's tumultuous emotions pressing down upon him like a physical weight. This, Ezra realized, was more than just friendship. His feelings of despair and responsibility were overwhelming. Thrawn saw himself as a leader. A commanding officer. His futility hit like a tsunami, a wave that threatened to sweep Thrawn away with it.

A moment more, Ezra reflected on him in the Force. "I think you should talk to him," He said, keeping his eyes closed.

The only sound in the room was their breathing. Thrawn might have looked Ezra's way, assessing him, but Ezra remained smooth and serene, mostly adrift in his abilities. It was a Kanan move, Ezra thought, offering up his own longing and grief to the Force. He didn't have to open his eyes to know that Thrawn was in fact staring at him.

"It was a military exercise and therefore classified. I am his subordinate. It would be inappropriate."

Ezra exhaled, then inhaled deep and even, willing himself to settle back within the flow of the Force. Thrawn didn't seem keen on continuing to speak, and so Ezra let his consciousness expand, feeling the threads and patterns that the Force cast around everything. He felt his own connections, the unlikely friendship he'd fostered with Thrawn, his relationships among the crew scattered about the levels above and below him. And like a beacon, he sensed the Navigators: clear and bright. Vah'nya, in particular, was like a light in a storm, brilliant and strong within the Force. She must be instructing the other Navigators, smaller, fledgling bright spots that twinkled like newborn stars.

He wasn't sure how long he drifted like that before bringing his mind back to his immediate surroundings, but Thrawn had recovered somewhat and was watching him tentatively when he surfaced from his meditative state. He seemed wary, Ezra thought, but composed.

"How would you go about it?" Thrawn asked him while he stretched his legs. "If our roles were reversed."

Ezra considered. Carefully, he said, "I'm not sure I have enough information to tell you."

That gave the Chiss pause, but only for a second. Seeming to make up his mind, Thrawn asked,"When is your next lesson?"

"This afternoon, after the mid-day meal. Fourteenth hour," He said, though he suspected Thrawn already knew. It was an out, if Ezra desired one. He did not.

"Very well," Thrawn replied. "I shall start at the beginning."

-/

It sounded like a holonovel, even in Thrawn's emotionally devoid tone, his recollection almost as neutral as a third party narrator. Or, at least, that's how it started. Thrawn spoke of Ivant as an impressionable, kind-hearted, but highly intelligent cadet who had been treated poorly and discredited due to his Wild Space heritage. Thrawn had seen something worth considering in him, and that one life had been of such little consequence to the Emperor that he'd given Vanto over like he was pet, not a person.

Ezra held back commentary or judgement even as Thrawn described upending Vanto's desired career path. "He would have been wasted on supply," Thrawn said. "He did not recognize his own abilities because he had never been put into a place to allow them to flourish. It mattered little to the Empire who was kept at my side, thus I was able to teach him to see and understand."

A lot of Thrawn's story was military procedure and function. Lessons Vanto had learned with Thrawn's guidance. Vanto's political insight, which Ezra read into as a shortcoming on Thrawn's part. He learned way too much about a rebel named Nightswan, whom Vanto and Ezra clearly agreed had been an obsession on Thrawn's part, even if he was rarely wrong about the man's motives and operations.

He learned a lot about Pryce, too. Pryce, who he'd always known was evil, but hearing about Batonn only solidified everything. In learning about her hand in Thrawn and Vanto's paths, Thrawn had touched on something else. He'd glossed over it, but Ezra hadn't been fooled.

"She saw Vanto as your weakness," Ezra mused. "He was being treated unfairly, and it was something you wanted, rather than needed. He could have stayed an Ensign but it would have been cruel."

"Yes, although it was Tarkin who facilitated the promotion," Thrawn recalled, "Pryce had been critical in removing that block. I am to believe it was one of Tarkin's enemies that caused the issue in the first place. Vanto seemed aware of it, though he did not share his concerns in this matter with me after it had been made clear I was recommending him for commendations at every opportunity."

"Huh," Ezra murmured. "Go on."

Thrawn did. Towards the end, something had changed about his relationship with Vanto. They had gone from Admiral and Commander to what Ezra would definitely classify as friends. Thrawn was proud of Vanto's progress, his ability to think tactically, while substantially different from Thrawn's art-inspired studies, were impressive. In many ways they understood each other, but they respected their differences and individual personalities. "He would become a great leader, someday," Thrawn said. "I knew there was no possible way for him to do so under me, and no way the Empire would take him seriously after a career at my back. And with Nightswan no longer an option, I decided to present him with an opportunity."

"What would you have done with Vanto if you had been able to send Nightswan here?"

Thrawn's lips thinned into a frown. "It is uncertain." One possibility, Thrawn reasoned, was that he would have seen Karyn Faro through to command her own fleet, and that he would have pushed for Vanto to be made his true second in command. He doubted it would be made so without extreme hardships and potential career suicide for one or both of them, now. Would conflicts have evolved similarly, otherwise? It was impossible to say.

Eventually he'd continued, giving a brief summary of Vader aboard the Chimaera after Atollon, of the Grysk and the Navigators, and then he'd moved on. There was no ill-will toward the Rebels or Ezra detected. It was strange, in a way, but Ezra didn't dwell on it.

There were more pressing matters.

"You gave him the TIE Defenders?" Here Ezra's voice rose sharply in disbelief.

"For a brief operation, yes," Thrawn confirmed silkily. "The pilots respected him as their Commander, and would heed his word as if it were my own."

"But he left the Empire."

"Technically, they knew he was on assignment. For all they knew, he was infiltrating their ranks at the Emperor's behest." Thrawn watched as Ezra frowned. "What is it?"

"You trusted him a lot," Ezra said.

"A Commander should always have faith in his subordinates."

"More than that. That was a gamble, even if your loyalties always were more with the Chiss than the Empire. If something went wrong..."

"I knew it would not."

"But if it did?"

"I was prepared to deal with the fallout, but knew that if something went awry, Lieutenant Vanto was prepared for it."

"Hmm," Ezra said, and left Thrawn to finish his tale: his pride at Admiral Ar'alani promoting Vanto with the CDF, the Admiral's warning, and finally, the Emperor's ominous, ambiguous threat. The rest, Ezra knew first hand.

"Your questions," Thrawn encouraged, taking in his younger counterpart's contemplative stare. "Or conclusions."

"Well," Ezra paced in the small space as he put together his thoughts. "I still think you need to talk to him, man to man." He frowned. "But I also don't think that whatever happened with the Grysk was actually your fault. I mean, how could it be?"

"There are several possibilities, but they all seem highly unlikely. I suspect the Navigators were purposefully misleading you, and by extension, me."

"I caught on by reading their body language," Ezra admitted. Neither Navigator would confirm his suspicion, but they definitely didn't deny it. "I know some part of their mission had to do with you." Rubbing the back of his head, Ezra adds, "Though… I mean, it doesn't really matter what the reasons are. You feel responsible because you sent him here and something bad happened to him. You obviously care about him a lot." The Jedi paused. "What do you want out of all this?"

"Our dynamic has never been so… strained," Thrawn settled on, "Even in its infancy. I had hoped our friendship would continue, but I am starting to believe that is not in the realm of possibility."

Ezra sat back on the edge of the bed. Thrawn's hands dangled over the armrests of the chair. They met each other's eyes. "Things can't go back to how they were, though. I mean, he outranks you now. Whatever he's doing now with the Navigators appears to be a success."

"Perhaps he does not require my guidance," Thrawn considered. It should feel rewarding, there should be an element to pride in such a success. And yet...

The Chiss's voice had a jagged edge to it, rough and torn and raw. Ezra blinked once, then twice, staring as the dots connected. He exhaled slowly through his nose, then inhaled and braced himself for Thrawn's reaction.

"You wanted to know my conclusion," Ezra started, waiting for Thrawn to acknowledge him. He did, so Ezra spoke honestly. "I think you're in love with him."

-/

Navigator Un'hee was not an uncommon sight in the officer's lounge. Most of the time, she stuck to a corner of one of the smooth leather couches or the armchair nearest the overhead lamp if it was midday and no one was around.

Of course, all of that was a moot point if the Captain was present. She stuck to him like a shadow. The Captain rarely had time to himself, but made it a point to be available to his crew. Rarely did said crew need him, but it was the point. The humble, earnest qualities in their human commanding officer were mildly contagious. It bred hard work, understanding. Commitment. None of the crew had requested transfer outside of promotion, and all those seeking promotion wanted to attain it within the same ecosystem. It spoke a lot about the climate Ivant created.

Right now, the officer's quarters were empty, save for one person. Said person sat at an empty table, cold tea in front of them, looking at something on a datapad.

"Hi," She ventured softly, startling him from his thoughts. Of course, no Chiss would show such a thing, but Un'hee always could tell. "May I sit with you?"

Thrawn's red eyes slipped over her, silently appraising. She knew he could not tell her no, however he could make up something and leave. But, she also knew he was curious. He had frightened her at first, when they'd met, but almost everything had. She waited patiently, datapad and a small, ancient looking book held in her hands.

"You may," He said, inclining his head toward the empty chair beside him. It had taken him four seconds to consider.

Instead of utilizing her datapad, she opened the smaller tome. Though it was small in size, it was still thick, though she selected the page she needed without a page marker. She could feel his eyes on her as she settled in to read.

It took him several minutes to return to his own reading, and for a while, the only sounds between them were the flip of parchment and the tap of fingertips against the touchscreen. Un'hee did not particularly enjoy reading scholarly texts about Sight. In fact, she rather detested it. But this one, she did not. The deep blue ink upon the pages was beautiful and contrasted nicely with the color of the pale but yellowing parchment. This text was nearly a millennia old, and yet it still looked as it had when its author completed it.

"I am surprised such an old artifact was allowed out of the capitol," Thrawn said.

Un'hee sighed. "This one is the best of the ones I've read so far. I think they're easier to focus on when you can turn the pages." She slid her finger down the margin carefully.

"You enjoy reading," He commented.

"Perhaps. Not like you enjoy art, though."

"Not many have such in-depth hobbies."

Un'hee swung her legs, feet dangling above the ground. "Perhaps," She said again. "I am interested in how my sisters and I learn and grow," She said. "I wish to be more. Stronger."

"Yet you read meditative texts," He inclined his head toward her current study. "They are hardly concrete in providing evidence or metrics for improvement."

The young Chiss shrugged. "Well, we have Ivant to do math for us," She said casually. Thrawn did not react, though she eyed his shoulders, waiting to see if he'd tense and attempt to leave. She continued, innocently enough, "I think that I seek more of a spiritual understanding of strength. My mind was… injured by my captivity," She supposed aloud. "I had to fight to prove I was not too damaged to serve our people. I still do."

Thrawn set down his datapad and looked at her. Really looked at her. At first, he suspected this to be some convoluted plan cooked up between her and Bridger, the latter had been exceedingly oppressive with his presence and some strange mix of support and sympathy since their last discussion of his supposedly tender emotional state.

Un'hee saw a different connection between them. And, Thrawn suspected, noting the way she did not hide or attempt to conceal her intentions, they were likely genuine. He could not consider himself a prisoner in the same sense that she had been. But to the Navigator, that did not seem to matter. She recognized a kindred spirit.

"I do not believe your superiors would find you taking up with me to be in your best interest," He said. "I also, as you say, find myself fighting to prove I am not too 'damaged.'"

"I do not wish to discuss your emotional state with you," Un'hee said, of the trap he'd rather slyly placed. "Your emotions are not my place, despite my worries."

"I suspect you have been apprised of the situation," He mused.

"Vah'nya taught Ezra the Cheunh word for gossip," She rolled her eyes. "He is clueless, but kind. He means well, though I think he will make things worse."

"He is under explicit instructions to withhold his urges to assist in my 'situation,'" Thrawn intoned casually.

"Which is why they sent me." She twisted in her seat to face him. "Vah'nya's hands are tied and so are Ezra's. He won't go against your wishes where you can see it," She said, "But..."

"I too suspected such a ploy, however I remain unsure as to your purposes in telling me this."

Un'hee looked up into Thrawn's face. She did not see facial heat or any indication of irritation, and he felt cool, collected, and calm from what she could sense. She exhaled, folding her fingers together in her lap, then looking down to her book. She closed it and ran her fingers across the cover, then tapped it twice.

"I will not get involved," She said to him, muted and sharp, all at the same time. It reminded him of a much younger Admiral Ar’alani. "Do you understand?"

Thrawn inspected the cover of the small text, noting the artwork on the front. It was old, traditional Chiss style, elegant and abstract and a myriad of blues with hints of gold and white. The colors were vibrant and of a gradient that faded from dark to light, indicative of a Navigator at the height of their Sight. Amidst the coloration, however was another design.

Un'hee traced the outline of it, the gold-bronzed ink subdued beneath layers of indigo-blue and time. It was a wayfarer's tool. A compass. She raised a brow to him, pushing aside the book and reaching for her datapad.

He eyed the illustration with interest but did not reach out to touch it. “A compass?”

“One word that represents many things,” Un’hee faced straight ahead, but her eyes cast to the side so she could see him in her periphery. “And symbolizes countless others.”

Coming Home

Here's some Geun-tae/Yun-ho fluff for @peachchanvidel! Hope you like it. 1432 words, PG.

“Welcome home, Lady Yun-ho!”

Yun-ho stepped out of her carriage and took the hand Chul-ran offered her. She was exhausted from her travels. Her brief stay in Port Awa had been a nice respite after nearly a week at sea, returning from the Kai Empire, but it was good to finally be home. “Thank you, Chul-ran.”

“I’ll send some servants to bring your trunk and your bags.” They stepped through the gate, and Chul-ran kept up an excited stream of chatter at her side. “Did you do a lot of business? What did all those fancy merchants in the Kai Empire think of your tea?” After a few months of successfully exporting her tea to the Kai Empire, Yun-ho had been invited to present it in person to an elite consortium of merchants. It was an opportunity she couldn't pass up—but because of his duties to the kingdom, Geun-tae hadn't been able to go with her. By now, they'd been apart for nearly a month, the longest since they'd been married.

“They really loved it!” Even after it had a week to sink in, she still had a hard time believing her success. “I think we'll need to expand the plantation—but we can afford to do that, now! Oh, I wonder if the hills above Chi'shin will produce the right quality…”

“We were all praying for your success!”

“Oho, even my husband wants this 'smelly tea’ to do well?”

“He keeps saying that if people in the Kai Empire have bad taste, it can’t be helped,” Chul-ran laughed. Then he paused, looking into Yun-ho’s eyes. “He does, though. He brags about you whenever he gets a chance, and he’s been so worried—he barely slept at all the first week you were gone—”

Yun-ho smiled, thinking of what she would say to greet her husband—and then all those words vanished from her head as Geun-tae stepped into view on the other side of the courtyard. She dropped Chul-ran’s hand and ran to him, leaping into his arms, feeling his embrace for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Yun-ho!”

And his voice—as dreamy as the day they first met. But the effect was ruined by the next sentence out of his mouth. “...the hell are you wearing?”

He set her back down and she stepped back, twirling around to show him. “Do you like it? It’s the latest fashion in Southern Kai!” Her new qipao, of soft pink silk embroidered with white and gold flowers, with its wide, high collar and slim sleeves, was nothing like what she usually wore.

“It’s so...sleek.” The expression on his face as he said that made her take it for a “yes.”

“I brought back some men’s clothing for you, too,” Yun-ho said. “You’re going to look so handsome!” She took Geun-tae’s hands again, letting him lift her into the air and spin her around.

“My lady,” said Chul-ran. “I’ll have your bags brought to your rooms. Is there anything else you need?”

“No,” said Yun-ho. “Everything I want is right here.”

“They liked it, right? You sold a bunch, right?”

“Now, now,” Yun-ho laughed. “Is business really what you want to talk about right now?”

“Just tell me, do I congratulate you or not?”

Yun-ho took a deep breath. “I signed a contract with a supplier to the imperial city!” she announced. “Not that there’s really an emperor right now, but—”

“Yun-ho, that’s amazing! That’s really—”

“And that’s all the business for tonight. I know that news isn’t all you want from me, is it, husband?”

Geun-tae grinned, pulling Yun-ho close. “No...no, it most certainly is not.” Yun-ho closed her eyes, savoring the warmth of his breath on her cheek, the touch of his lips on hers. Then their kiss was interrupted by a tap on the door.

“Lady Yun-ho, your things—”

“Ah—yes—bring them in!”

Geun-tae eyed the array of bags and boxes after the servant left. “That's more than you had when you left.”

“Souvenirs! After all, I may never have a chance to visit the Kai Empire again.”

“Are you kidding?” Geun-tae asked. “They'd be crazy not to want you back.” He paused. “But they like that smelly tea, so you can't trust their judgement.”

“Oh, shush.”

“Those souvenirs don't include more smelly tea you're going to make me try, do they?” Geun-tae asked, suddenly wary.

“Well—” It was true she'd brought back a lot of tea, varieties and blends from the Kai Empire and beyond. She wanted to think that surely among them would be something here husband would like. “They do have just plain green tea there, too, you know,” she said. “But somehow, it tastes completely different! The leaves are—” Well, Geun-tae wouldn't appreciate the details. “It’s really interesting,” she assured him.

“‘Interesting’ sounds suspicious.”

“Oh, and also! There’s something else I brought back. It’s not tea.”

“...some kind of alcohol?”

“No, but I did bring back some fine liquor too. This is...it’s hard to describe.” It had been brought by merchants from far to the southwest, a hot drink made not from tea leaves but from some kind of berries. Those merchants had traveled even farther than Yun-ho and been met with less success, and buying a little of their wares was the least she could do.

“Well, fine, fine, I’ll try it now. Get it over with.”

“...you’re curious, aren’t you?”

“What? No! You have weird tastes and I know it’s going to be strange.”

Yun-ho laughed. Her husband was always like this. He either outright hated her teas or couldn’t tell one grade of leaf from the next, but he was always willing—even eager, though he’d never admit it—to sample her latest obsession. It was really, really cute. “I’ll have to go to the kitchen and prepare it myself,” she said. “The servants won’t know how.” She rummaged through one of her bags till she found the right package. “I’ll be back in just a few minutes!”

It was more than a few minutes, of course—she needed to grind the beans and boil the water and get everything just right—but soon, Yun-ho returned with a tray bearing two small cups of frothy, brown liquid.

“It looks like mud,” Geun-tae commented. He picked up one of the cups, about to toss it back all in one go.

“No, not like that!” He always drank his tea like that too, never savoring the flavor at all. “It's really strong,” she added.

“You think a little cup of mud is a match for me?” Geun-tae asked. Yun-ho rolled her eyes. Men. But Geun-tae did pause, sniffing the aroma of the beverage curiously. “It doesn't smell like mud,” he admitted. “Actually, it smells really good.” Tentatively, he took a sip, and his eyes lit up. “Yun-ho, this is amazing!” He hastily finished the rest of the little cup, before Yun-ho even started hers. “Yun-ho, you’re really amazing! You found something delicious!”

“You—you like it? You really like it?” After all the things she'd served him in all the years of their marriage, to finally find something he not only tolerated but actually appreciated—of course it would be this. “It's called 'coffee,’” Yun-ho said. Personally, she found the taste too bitter, and while she thought she'd be able to enjoy it on occasion, she knew she'd always prefer the delicate flavor of tea. But if Geun-tae really liked it—

“I love it.” Geun-tae stood up, a huge grin on his face, and Yun-ho held up her own cup to offer him. She didn't mind giving it up, to see him like this. “Damn, you probably only brought back a sample 'cause you figured I'd call it gross, right? Well, not this time! Though it still looks like mud. Let's order a year's supply, at least! I wonder if we can sell it. I wonder if that grumpy General Judo would buy it.” He was pacing the room, practically leaping with excitement.

“Oh, that's right,” Yun-ho remembered. “The merchants told me that coffee is usually a morning beverage, because it has an invigorating effect.” Much moreso than tea, they'd said.

“Invigorating, huh?” He set the cup back down and reached out to Yun-ho.

“Yes,” said Yun-ho, letting herself be pulled up to meet hm. “And since I already told you we won't be discussing business tonight—” She​ stood on her tiptoes and gave him a little peck on the cheek. “And since it's been so long—” She traced a finger down his cheek, then along his chest, then further down. “Shall we find a better use for all that energy?”

The Last Jedi: Vanity Fair covers reaction and breakdown

Because I’m too hyped not to let it out!

Waking up today to this felt like Christmas! (for the lack of better analogy of waking up to gifts and surprises.) I just went to check if a new episode of the Scavenger’s Hoard was up yet, and what I got was a double bonus of the new episode AND the coveted Vanity Fair spread!

I love that they made 4 different covers instead of just one with either a bunch of characters thrown in together (like the TFA poster which I don’t like much for that very reason tbh) or a select image of, probably, Rey and Luke on the Ireland location. That could be cool too, but would be a) too reminiscent of the teaser poster and b) would not feature other, no less important and wonderful characters. So here it goes, the four covers broken down one by one.

(I tried to keep it short, but it never happens.)

The Force

Luke looks more and more like a god figure, and not a happy one. Whatever he’s been through changed him and left him a pained old man.

I love the burlap sack draped over Mark dramatically. Skywalker drama queen, indeed! (I say that lovingly)

Regarding Rey, honestly, I don’t have much to say, other than they’re playing it safe, and keeping the news on her character to the minimum (yet). She’s got her staff, but not the saber (would it be reading in too much to say she hasn’t let go of Jakku and still waiting for her family to come back at that point in the film?)

I like that random strain of her hair, making a loop in the wind. It’s kinda cute 

Colour palette for Rey’s and Luke’s costumes is earthly, brown-grayish, with fabrics that look low-tech and reminiscent of traditionally woven materials. Compare and contrast with the First Order cover with Hux’s luxury silk shirt, Phasma’s ultra tech armor, and layers of dark and 3D printed belt buckle on Kylo.

The weather isn’t up for sunbathing and sipping a margarita on Ahch-To. Could be a coincidence as that was simply the weather on the day of the photoshoot, but I like to see this as a reflection of what’s going on on the island, as clouds gather in the sky.

On a side now, is this a composite image? Because Mark looks taller and larger than Daisy, in ways that suggest these are two separate photos of them combined together. I read somewhere that Annie Leibovitz is fond of stitching photos together (which is totally fine). It’s just that Mark’s seemingly huge hand and head and the way Daisy and Mark look like (or rather do not look like) standing next to each other kind of bother me, but, of course, that’s a minor thing, unimportant for the story and the characters.

The Dark Side

The Dark side? Not the First Order? Interesting choice. Whether one should look too much into this is a question, and the answer is probably not too look too much into that. It’s probably that ‘The Dark Side’ sounds cooler and more ominous than ‘The First Order’. (Still, Tarkin and Krennic weren’t referred to as the faces of The Dark side). Anyways, let’s move on to more exciting parts of this cover!

Phasma looks like she is about to kill someone, and I love it! I love seeing Gwendoline Christie being able to act with her face. Hopefully, that means we’ll get to see a more substantial story for her character this time, because to waste Gwendoline’s talent would be a bummer.

Also, they kept her blonde hair (probably, to avoid complicating things too much. It’s not even guaranteed we see Phasma unmasked in the film.) Anyways, I’m excited to see Phasma unmasked (masks do have an effect of making perceive someone less human), and as a fan of Gwendoline in Game of Thrones, hope we’ll see more of her in TLJ!

Hux. That silky, smooth shirt. I don’t know, I just love it haha! No really, I’m excited to see Hux as part of the promo, and while I’m not the biggest Hux fan out there, his dynamic with Kylo and Domhnall Gleeson’s acting, and  emperor!Hux and kylux fanart/tags made me somewhat fond of the character, at least the fandom one.

Kylo Ren. Oh. My. God. Adam Driver is so good at modelling.

Those legs, that pose, the hair, cape over one shoulder -> I’m dead

“Kylo Ren’s wounds go much deeper than the fearsome new scar on his face.” -> I’m dead

It’s so coded for mental health, I just can’t (deep down all I want for Kylo is to find some peace and to see and be in the light again, even for a small part of his being)

Kylo’s ruffled hair actually gives him a slightly mad look, obsessed and passionately disheveled. Compare and contrast with Hux’s new sleek look, down to the shirt and hair. Heck, even their tops reflect each other: Hux’s silk shirt (with no buttons or anything else on it) and Kylo’s textured top

It’s been pointed out many times already that Kylo’s being unmasked for the TLJ promotion could mean and actually supports the idea that TLJ will explore humanity of the character, as per Adam Driver. What’s a more human way than to ditch masks and show emotions on one’s face? Plus as a bonus, we’ll get more of Adam’s performance aside from what he already amazingly conveys though body language and use of the costume

I cannot stop unseeing Eric Maell’s reylo artwork from last year’s Celebration. That rock star pose (hello and thank you, Star Wars Connection)

All in all, the First Order Trio looks ready to kick some ass in The Last Jedi

Leather boots, armor, belts, silk, space denim. I’m loving that aesthetic.

The Resistance

Precious freedom fighters in one photo! They actually look like a fam, and I love it <3 (unlike the First Order trio that’s biz only where Hux is sneering down at everyone and Kylo in particular, Phasma’s just up for the company with her colleagues, and Kylo pursuing his own thing within the Order)

Poe looking fine! No surprise here if you have Oscar Isaac playing the character! Hopefully, this charming poster boy will also get some challenges and more substance to his character this time around

Rose! I’m excited to see Kelly Marie Tran in character! We now know her full name now too - Rose Tico, and that of the new characters, she’ll have the most screen time. What I also find exciting is that Rose is a mechanic, meaning she’s employed in STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, Math, for those who don’t know). Needless to say that we need more women represented in those fields on the big screen.

Finn/John Boyega. Looking gorgeous, determined, and more mature. No really, I love this! John Boyega’s got a great charisma, and it’s great to see him channeling that for Finn. Can’t wait to see more him in TLJ now that he’s a big deal in the Resistance.

Sadly, looks like we might not see much of Finn and Rey together in TLJ (based on these images and other info we know about them). Regardless of that, I’m glad for Finn finding a family, identity, and embarking on a journey of his own.

I wonder if Rey gets a new costume later in the film, will Finn get something of his own too? Recycling is great (perhaps, the Resistance is a bit short on cash too to make custom costumes for everyone), but I would love to see Finn wearing something that reflects him as his own person. He has a name and an identity. Why not give him a signature look too?

Overall, I really like the retro vibe of their looks. Kinda reminds of old movies, with movie stars rocking leather jackets, riding bikes or flying planes in WWII.

The Legacy

Carrie. Standing strong and beautiful. A true freedom fighter, a leader, a royalty. I really love how this image conveys all of that and more what Leia is, and doesn’t shy away from femininity and glamour the character always had.

This is a gorgeous touching tribute to the late Carrie Fisher, and, as many fans, I welcome it, and wholeheartedly celebrate Carrie’s legacy.

I want to say thank you to whoever put Leia’s looks in TLJ together for honouring the character through the costume, the leader and the princess that Leia has always been.

I want to talk more about the way the way Carrie carries herself in the image, that lip pout, and yet slight sadness in her eyes. Carrie does it so well. You can really see all the years and things she’s been through. She is probably mourning Han Solo (no, definitely mourning!), and perhaps Kylo’s fate is still tied to the First Order and Snoke, and whether she and Luke reunite is still up in the air, and it’s still a war after all these years in the Rebellion and now Resistance. She’s been part of the war, one or another, all her life. Darth Vader is her father. Her brother, more of a myth than a man now. Her son, her parents, Alderaan. That cannot not leave an imprint, and I’m glad to see that coming through.

I’m not embarrassed to admit that I actually started tearing up when I first saw this image. It’s so beautiful! Carrie looks simply stunning. To realize that this is her last role, and that she is the legacy of the 40 years history of Star Wars, and that she’s been Leia for 40 freaking years, since she was a teen to her last days, and been through so much in her life, yet fought and forged a path of her own, helping spread the word about mental health and making the world a little better place, having no shame in being herself despite the stigma and celebrity status, bashing haters with incredible wit and humour (hey, George Lucas got some too! So did the baboon hair she wore in TFA. I’m still not over her roasting the gas station attendant look xD), all of that and more is the inspiring tale of Carrie Frances Fisher.

While costumes are great, and great costumes are freaking fantastic, I really hope Leia has more than 2 minutes of screen time in The Last Jedi. Because that would be a crime to devote more time to robots and space ships than to the heart of Star Wars that characters and their stories are. What Leia Organa and her legacy are.

Chapter One- “Ai Ya Ya”

Chapter One "Ai Ya Ya"~ Crimson Red

第一章 "哎呀呀" ~ 深红色

There was a beneficial and great era of my country called the Qing Dynasty, ...

When is that Wang?

It is...hm...remember Catherine the Great?

Da! Such an enlighting and heroic era, the Russian Enlightment was? She is one of my favourite bosses!

Around then...

~*~

A holy day of February, the day of the Yuanxiao Festival. Always one of the happiest and most cheerful festivals in China. People from all social rankings gathered together to spend the day, creating simple lanterns to join the emperor and his family together with the noblemen in the game the children were triggered to play each year.

China was taking a stroll before the official beginning. He would join Emperor Qianlong and the rest of the noblemen in the official start, but he didn't care. He could appear decently in a matter of seconds, in contrast with most of the fine class men. His official chaofu wasn't that hard to wear by himself even in his age he wouldn't be alive if he wasn't a country. His hair wasn't that bad, and a simple but elegant semi-ponytail would do.

Walking around the peaceful but loud scenery of Beijing and watching the people of his country happy and united made him smile and enjoy the rest of the day. Seeing everyone excited was his first and only priority. And that specific day, he always achieved it. Everyone seemed happy and strong, for his eyes...the best thing that had ever happened.

A few children trying to guess riddles to prepare for later. Women gossiping about the passengers, including himself, while they were preparing the family lantern. Men doing the last preparations for the dinner with an expression of combined tire and love. Elders play with and riddle the new generation and recall memories of their own tasks.

It was a day of joy all over China. But Beijing was the most outstanding.

China remembered he was asked by the emperor to attend his palace before the event because they had to have their usual talk before everything important for the country. All emperors seemed to be more dramatical than the other. They could barely smile. But this certain one's severe and kind-hearted personality was enough to make China like him and consider him a great ally, boss and companion.

Our protagonist arrived earlier than the supposed time of the arrangement, but a sweet and polite servant informed him the emperor didn't rush and he could wander around freely in the Forbidden City, in which he had full access since the first time as he was the country but he prefered a more common life among the simple residents with the difference that he had the financial power to live under better conditions.

He had always found the Forbidden City an interesting place, and a shame that it wasn't open to the public. The beautiful trees and majestic lakes were only available for the emperor's eyes. The temples were designed delicately and were seen ritualistically. There was almost no one giving them a purpose, other than the servants that respectfully took care of them. It was such a disgrace to see them in a beautiful position without someone admiring them properly.

He was so devoted to his surroundings that had forgotten where he was heading too. He asked a female passerby the location that stunned him so much, even if it was the same with all the other parts of the city. Beihai Park. He would dream of the time he would be able to wander again in this wonderful location.

He saw a free boat, floating on the lake and immediately entered so fascinated to see the island in the middle of it. Jade Flower. The named sounded like music in his ears. Or he was just so obsessed with sight-seeing he didn't care how the sights were actually named. The only thing in his mind was to reach the island and capture with his memory the beauty of the park.

When the edge of the boat touched the wooden pier, China hoped outside. He took a deep breath and continued his little trip merrily. The trees seemed as old as him, even if nothing could ever reach his record. Their shadows made a darker, but mysterious and enchanting path. China looked around and noticed a small marsh at the end of an earthen alley through the wood. Curious to find the end of it, he followed it. And at the end, a pond of green waters and white lilies repaid his tire of the journey. A quick peek around was enough to realise the place was magical. He sat down by the lake and stared at the beauty he could easily pass the rest of his endless life.

'Ni hao.' a pitched voice echoed.

'Who is it?' China asked furiously because it interrupted the peace of the location.

'I-I should go...I don't know you, stranger!' the voice seemed scared, it was a child.

'You know me! Come here, I don't bite! I am an old man!' he tried to comfort it.

Out of the tree behind him, a small head appeared. Slanted eyes, specifically olives for eyes and a tiny nose were drawn on that precious pale face. The hair was left untouched and messy, touching the shoulders. The kid wore a black changyi decorated with golden and white flowers. They weren’t binding shoes, probably because it already had small feet or...

She was a Manchu.

'You don't look like an old man to me!' the little girl took a step back.

'Compared to you, I am older! Can you explain me this place?' China tried to look friendly to the frightened girl.

'I-It's just a normal marsh I come to relax. It is widely common all over China,' the girl started to approach him and when she did reach him sat beside him to connect with their surroundings together 'I am Gurun Princess Hexiao, daughter of the Emperor Qianlong and the Consort Dun,' she introduced herself.

'How can you be a Gurun princess without being a child of the Empress?' the title confused China.

'Love, I guess.' she responded 'It was a pleasure to share this moment with you, sir, but I am afraid I must prepare myself for the festival. It would be an honour to meet again, but based on my busy schedule as a princess I am afraid I don't have as much time as other ladies you could easily approach. I hope you enjoy this year's yuanxiao festival,' she wished and disappeared of China's eyes.

China saw her ran away, really fast for a girl of her age but he supposed that the cause was the binding shoes other girls wore. He tried to get up, but his back hurt. After some minutes he finally managed to stand by himself and walk to the room he possessed in the Forbidden City.

There his elegant red and gold chaofu was waiting for him and all the rest of his formal clothing were laid by it. He would be pleased to see the Emperor once more. He'd love to ask about his tenth, if he counted well, daughter too. She seemed a gentle and respectful girl the people would love.

'The Emperor waits for your presence in the main room, sir,' a servant informed him and he followed him with trust.

Seems this Emperor was different like his personality had changed since the last time they had spoken to each other. He seemed happier, maybe because of the event. And surely more open-minded. After their short talking about these years of wealth and luck that headed, the rest of the Emperor's noted men and his family, including China, entered the balcony where the event's beginning would be announced.

The routine was the same, but China enjoyed to see the excitement of all people in Beijing and other cities that came here for the festival. Every year it was a refreshed one, full of hope and pride. The elegant lantern representing the royal family was lit up and its crimson red colour filled China's heart with a warm feeling and a strong connection with his people. The cheers were the only thing China wanted to hear. The children's giggles joined them.

After the end of the event, China walked in the dark through the same path to the same hidden marsh, he had found before. This place filled him with a strange pioneering feeling.

 Weiyan.

'People who witness this marsh, don't usually come back to witness it again.' the same pitched voice was heard by China who turned to the left to see her painted face and worn in an elegant bun hair.

She seemed completely changed. The previous messy, boy-like and clumsy girl was transformed into a beautiful dragon. Her face was paler than before and her cheeks took a bold shade of pink. Her slantied eyes had the same shade as the cheeks, but a long black line was separating the garnet-coloured eyes with the cheerful pink of her cheeks. The pink paint on her lips formed a heart shape.

Her changyi differed from the rest of the royal family's. She wore a purple one with pink and gold delicate butterflies and a dragon, representing the family of course. But the rest of her relatives wore the casual black and red with gold features formal clothing. Her bun had a white lily as an accessory and her nails were white.

'I am not like the others!' he replied with a smile and she giggled.

'I am not like the others too!' she left her hair fall down on her shoulders, despite the royal dressing and manners code 'I have also this!' she handed me a crimson red lantern and revealed her own too 'I haven't written riddles as the tradition says, I never liked riddles!'

The two lanterns gave a spark in the dark. The fireflies gathered too and let us experience the magic of the marsh on the Jade Flower Island at night.

The little princess touched his hand with her soft small hands and let the lantern move to his right hand. She led it upwards like the lantern would fly. And it did indeed after he let it fall of his hand. She did the same with hers and stared at the sources of light fly away together.

'The continuing radiance of crimson flames... Will never end and will continue to move forward aru!' I sang on a cheerful tune and the little one clapped.

'You sing really well! I could persuade my father change your status from a simple servant to royal singer! If you play the erhu too, I will definitely find you a job!'

I laughed really loudly 'I am happy with the position I am now,  xiexie!' I messed with her hair and she smiled 'Xiexie for the amazing event, aru! I think you should head back to your room, princess Hexiao!'

'My name is Ori Sasithorn Wei,' she ran away.

~*~

Ah! And so this little girl was the one who ran away from you Wang!

Yes, but the yuanxiao festival that year didn't happen to fall on a lunar eclipse!

Oh...so when did she left?

I have a lot to explain! It isn't a short story! Be patient!

ENH Chapter 2

Chapter 02: I Will Sign It The instant Song Wuyou heard the words ‘Young Master Gu’ her eyes went wide that she turned around so abruptly and saw this Gu Yanhao was walking towards her direction with a steady step. The man possessed a tall stature with cold, indifferent noble bearing; wearing a black western suit that vividly enhanced his domineering and arrogance. So similar! There was too much similarity! Whether it was the face features or the imposing aura he was exuding as he walked, each movement was so identical to that heartless man! Song Wuyou crunched up her brows; was past and present lifetime really exist for humans? Hehe, nevermind that, the truth was right before her, she had been reborn! Heavens was not that cruel to her anyway, and even gave her a chance to live again! Song Wuyou bit her lip; she would not do any more foolish deeds for any man, including the dangerous man in front of her. Remembering the suffering she had endured in the Cold Palace and the original host’s fixated love and obsession towards this man standing before her, Song Wuyou’s eyes turned indifferent. She looked towards Xu Jing, her voice was leveled: “Xu Jing, water.” “Miss, here,” Xu Jing hurried over to Song Wuyou’s side and gave her the glass of water. Taking the glass of water, Song Wuyou drank it slowly. Her overly tranquil mannerism, starting from receiving the water to finished drinking it, every movement was done gracefully, making Gu Yanhao raised an eyebrow. When Gu Yanhao arrived at the bedside, he only stood there, just watching. It was akin to an Emperor watching his subject. Song Wuyou was really thirsty, her lips were so dry that it cracked but her actions were steady yet elegant. After several mouths full of water, she placed the glass back on the bedside table ever so gently. From within the corner of the eyes, she swept over the envelope containing some documents in Gu Yanhao’s hands. Song Wuyou’s actions slowed down for a moment as her heart gradually sank. She subsequently looked up, a pair of clear and bright star-like eyes were gazing at Gu Yanhao as if smiling yet felt distant. Faced with Gu Yanhao’s cold expression that was sharp just like a sword edge, Song Wuyou’s reaction was actually very calm. If this was before, seeing Gu Yanhao up this close, the original host would have been drooling, and her eyes would have been greedily staring at him as if having a feast. The Song Wuyou now was no longer the same Song Wuyou from before. “The documents in your hand should be the divorce agreement right?” the corner of Song Wuyou’s lips even curved up slightly; her voice sounded collected and flat, making it hard to guess her emotions. Her nonchalance act stunned Gu Yanhao for a second; today, her reaction was a little unexpected. In the past, the moment divorce was brought up, she would start to cry, throwing tantrum, and would use her own life to threaten him, that even if she were to die she still would never agree to a divorce. But now, seeing these divorce papers right before her eyes, she was actually this calm? “Song Wuyou, you can only blame yourself for this result!” Gu Yanhao’s cold voice could be heard, laced with undisguised ridicule. “Right, I did really bring this upon myself.” Song Wuyou’s lips curved up in a cold smile. One of Gu Yanhao’s eyebrow went up to his forehead, he could clearly see the touch of cold sneer on Song Wuyou’s smile. This Song Wuyou was giving him a bad premonition that something was amiss, and was also a bit peculiar. “This is your own sin, you killed the child in your womb and this has made grandfather very upset. He has agreed to our divorce.” Gu Yanhao flung the divorce agreement papers at Song Wuyou’s body and said sharply. Even when she acted this collected and indifferent, he still thought that she was really annoying and could not help but to want to get rid of her as soon as possible. Song Wuyou glanced down at the scattered papers. Her expression did not give much clue whether she was thinking about that heartless man or the original host’s love towards this man. Looking at the divorce papers, an unbearable pain squeezed her heart. She tugged at the sleeve a little before she went to pick up the scattered papers as a pretense for the pain she felt. When she reached out her hand, the sleeve fell further back and accidentally revealed a narrow scar across the wrist. She was astounded for a moment and even her hand also paused midway. Her sight was solely focused onto the scar, this red-tinged scar looked particularly ugly against her porcelain white skin. This scar was left behind by the original host. It was something that had happened one year ago. The original host had witnessed it with her own eyes that Gu Yanhao was embracing her eldest sister, Song Jiuyue! Someone like her who could not accept a single stain in the name of love had acted like a vulgar woman and wanted to hit Song Jiuyue, instead, she was pushed away by Gu Yanhao till she fell to the ground. The fall had been very painful yet Gu Yanhao could not even bother himself with her at that time and only walked away with Song Jiuyue. Unwilling, she struggled up and chased after them only to see Gu Yanhao’s with a very cold expression told her that they would be divorcing sooner or later. That had been the first time Gu Yanhao mentioned of the word of divorce to her. At that time, the original was stupefied by the word and could only stand there dazed, rooted to the spot for a very, very long time; he wanted to divorce her so that he could go out publicly with Song Jiuyue? When she returned back to the villa, once again she acted so brash like a mannerless woman looking for a fight, crying and shouting, using death to blackmail Gu Yanhao. She picked up the fruit knife from the coffee table, right in front of Gu Yanhao she cried: “If you insist on divorcing me, I will slit my wrist and commit suicide in front of you!” And Gu Yanhao stared at her coldly, spitting out every word precisely, “Go ahead, slit it.  Make sure it is deep enough, so you can die faster!” He turned around and left after saying that, pulled out his mobile phone and called his lawyer as he walking up the stairs, ordering the lawyer to get the divorce papers ready pronto! She already used her life as a bargaining chip, and yet, he still insisted to proceed with the divorce. Devastated, the knife slashed down and lots of blood was spilled. But the suicide attempt had failed because a servant found her and called 999. Old Grandfather Song heard about her suicide and forbid the two of them to divorce. Only then, this matter was on hold, till now. So foolish. After piecing back the scattered memories clearly within her head, the corner of Song Wuyou’s lips curved in a mocking sneer; for a man that did not even love her, the original host was really daft, through and through. Song Wuyou retrieved her hand, a finger gently traced the scar on her wrist as her indifferent voice mumbled, “If the compensation is reasonable, I will sign it.” Her decisiveness surprised Gu Yanhao. He frowned, the deep unfathomable pupils held a trace of suspicion, “You are really gonna sign it?” Song Wuyou faced him directly, smiled faintly and said, “Of course.” Gu Yanhao watched Song Wuyou sullenly, staring straight at her. Her smile was angelic, eyes bright as the stars, and this particular smile was mesmerizing. Song Wuyou’s looks were beautiful to begin with, soft and smooth white skin, a great figure, and delicate features. If she were not so overbearing, arrogant, and spoiled, acting like a vulgar woman with the drop of a hat, and also loved to become the center of attention, perhaps, Gu Yanhao would not hate her as much. “You better not go back on your words.” Gu Yanhao said in a somber voice that was as cold as an iceberg. Song Wuyou gave off a charming smile instead and said, “I am afraid you will be the one who goes back on their words.” Gu Yanhao scoffed, his eyes showed a trace of ridicule: “Just you, do you even have the qualification to make me take back my words? Song Wuyou, I’m really looking forward to your signature!” The trace of smile on Song Wuyou’s face turned colder, “Yes ah, of course you can’t wait to divorce me. So anxious that you are willing to sacrifice your own flesh and blood. Gu Yanhao, you surely are heartless!” Hearing this, Gu Yanhao wrinkled his brows, penetratingly cold voice could be heard: “You doubt me for that car accident?” Song Wuyou: “Can I not?” Gu Yanhao bent down and pinched Song Wuyou’s chin between his two fingers. Instantly, his smell assaulted her nostrils. Song Wuyou felt a pain from being pinched, making her frowned unhappily. She glared icily at Gu Yanhao. Gu Yanhao’s eyes were also frigid cold as he said, “Song Wuyou, you’re digging your own grave!” Previous          Main menu          Next Click to Post