Aren didn’t speak a word as Muriel offered the kitty a place across from her with which to sit, and even as she questioned the purpose of the day still he would not speak a pip. Instead he allowed the scent that he was now very fond of particularly because it was hers and though it was perhaps common he found it exotic. Closing his eyes but for a few moments as he lost himself in the lavendar only then would he speak after all had become quiet and Kiral ‘trusted’ that all was fine.
A slight smirk formed at either corner of his lips as he began “Do you really trust and are you really happy? I don’t think you are. I think your jealousy stinks of retribution and vindication. As for imagined slights…whatever I may imagine is far worse than anything you might believe that much I guarantee. I suppose I should as you say flip and kill you on the spot, right here as you sit. Unfortunately I believe I would have my own price to pay if I were to do that…you can owe that to your ‘friendship’ and my own weakness…perhaps it will come back to haunt me and be the cause of some untimely death…maybe it won’t…time will tell…" looking down towards Muriel beneath him he chuckled softly.
“In regards to Torel…I don’t think there should be anything to fear, as I’ve said it was my duty to report my findings and I will do so however, a few details may be missing. Or perhaps we will jsut disappear altogether and she’ll never truly know what the hell happened." his right hand rested softly upon her left shoulder before he planted a kiss into the hairline of her neck. Pulling away to resume his tall posture his gaze once again looked upon Kiral Vess.
Kiral took the seat and smiled his thanks to Muriel, leaning back and resting his head in his hand, elbow on the armrest. He listened to what she had to say and only grinned faintly. When she was finished he closed his eyes and let some thoughts wash over him; betraying these two amounted to nothing. Letting them live out their way on a planet was fine by him, and to tell Torel, was pointless. If he told them his death would no doubt be swift, which was just another stupid ploy in his head. The way he saw it, nothing he did or they did would amount to anything. He’d rather keep and ally, and a friend, than betray them for some pointless prestige in the long run. Paixon seemed to be ready to betray the galaxy if he got Muriel; that was fine. Kiral admitted to himself that he was jealous of Paixon, but, it was fading from him quickly. Why not be friends with Muriel and enjoy that. He snapped his eyes open before it looked like he’d just fallen asleep again.
"Before we begin, my night was… Quiet. Nicely so. Now, as for my word, that’s not what I’m interested in. It was more my leaving. See, if you could drop me off a little closer to somewhere living that would be fine. If not I’ll scavenge some supplies and begin my long walk back. That was mostly it," Kiral said, leaving a flat smile after his words. ”No, I’m happy with how things are. If Paixon doesn’t decide to flip and kill me right now for some imagined slight, I’ll be quite quiet and easy to contact. As normal.”
Inwardly, Kiral felt proud of himself. As level as a Jedi and yet infinitely more manipulative than one of them. Well, perhaps not infinitely, but he allowed himself some small boons now and then. As for Paixon, well, he just reveled in some small thought that he’d bring the mighty warrior down at some point not through application of strength but guile. Poisoning him would’ve been an unfitting end. Still, as much as he despised him, he respected his forward nature. Kiral had been far too indirect at points. Something to work on.
"I trust that’s fine?" Kiral asked, sitting up straight.
Muriel could sense Kiral Vess long before she could see him, of course. Her Force-augmented senses alerted her to the feline alien’s presence the moment he set foot on the ship. Looking up now, expectantly, she watched him appear in the threshold of the medical bay, his familiar brown mane falling carelessly down to his shoulders. “Good morning," she smiled pleasantly, albeit her voice failed to echo her seemingly charitable demeanor. "Things are fine, my friend. I trust your night proceeded without incident? Come in, take your ease." Gesturing forth to the nearby chair, Muriel bade the Cathar sit across from her. Undoubtedly, he was quite wary of Paixon who continued to hover at her side, fascinated by the bonding between mother and child.
“What is it you wish to discuss, precisely? I hope you haven’t decided to go back on your word," she reminded him sternly now. "I do not wish this Torel or whoever it is you work for, to know of my presence on Nam Chorios. Not yet, at any rate. But if you have changed your mind, you best tell me now." Deep emerald gaze bore into his, as if seemingly saying, 'well, get on with it, man? I haven't got all day.' In truth, Muriel did not feel at all threatened by the possibility of the furry alien going back on his word to her. But she wanted Aren Antilles to hear it, and (hopefully) be pacified by the words. Last thing she wanted was the two of them constantly at each other’s throats - especially now when she was attempting to start her life all over again in a hostile, unforgiving environment of all places. And if they could not come to an agreement and tolerate each other’s presence in her vicinity? Well, then - the answer to that predicament was simple.
Heads were going to roll.
Kiral, for all his worth, had found his own place to stay. Thankfully towards the back of the ship was a compartment for crew, and after he’d spent his time healing his body, he’d decided to sleep there. He was sure in the fact that nobody would come looking for him. Muriel and Paixon were clearly… Getting along. It was obvious throughout the force; only a blind, deaf, comatose lobotomy patient might not have felt the tremors in the force. Maybe. It was passion, first and foremost, but Kiral paid it no mind. So Muriel didn’t like him that way… There were worse things in the galaxy. Kiral Vess would just donate his time to his own needs now rather than those of another. If anything, that suited the feline alien just fine.
So he slept, soundly despite all things, curled up in the sheets. They were surprisingly clean for a ship that Muriel had just found, but still, there was no way he was going to complain. Kiral didn’t dream much; sadly, it just wasn’t his thing much. When he did it tended to be the bad kind anyway. A dreamless sleep was as good as he was going to get. When he awoke the next day, Kiral felt refreshed. It was all he could have asked for and more! Sleep restored all the energy he’d lost the previous day and more. Hooking his feet out on to the cold durasteel floor, he suppressed a shiver as he wrapped his robes around his body. It was amazing that internal life support could keep a ship so fresh. He shuddered to think how hot or could it would have got without the system.
With the most languid stretch possible, Kiral padded quietly through the ship to the med-bay. It felt like he spent most of his time there now. He noticed Paixon and Muriel were there immediately, Janan being fed. He pulled his robes tightly around himself and coughed lightly. "Good morning, both of you… Assuming it is morning," he said with a faint grin, leaving some things in his head best unsaid. He was utterly childish in that regard, so, he vowed to at least improve that. He hovered around the door, keeping his respectful distance as always. ”I ah… Trust things are well? Perhaps now would be a good time to discuss what it is shall happen now. Getting it out of the way, so to speak,” he said in his soft tones, baring in mind that he really didn’t want to get on Paixon’s bad side this morning. There were plenty of other things the Cathar would rather do than throw his life away on a stupid joke.
Aren watched as Muriel sighed following her morning’s greeting and as they lay there silent for a long minute or two before finally Muriel muttered her desire to leave, and then wrench herself from his touch. It made no sense to him but he supposed that she was fighting some internal struggle with herself, perhaps regret for what had happened the night before? He watched in dismay as Muriel rose from the bed and donned her outer robes, tying them loosely around her waist, before leaving the room behind.
With a sigh, Aren too would rise from the bed leaving behind the covers, and follow her lead by donning his black robes using the long piece of cloth to wrap and tie around him. Now covered Aren set out to find Muriel, of which he was sure she was already in the medbay and caring for Janan - Aren only hoped that Muriel saw how much he had taken to her. As he entered the medical facility of the vessel he leaned against the threshold of the room, his shoulder propping himself up effortlessly and arms crossing his chest, as his eyes locked on the figure of Muriel breastfeeding Janan.
Taking a moment to merely watch before pushing off and striding towards Muriel with Janan in her arms, he would kneel at the side of her chair and say nothing merely observing a mother and her daughter. Moments would pass before he would extend a hand towards Janan’s forehead and brush his fingertips tenderly over the infants smooth skin and into the little tufts of hair that were present. Then looking to Muriel he would smile lightly as he removed his hand from the child and rested his head against the hard wood of the chair once again focusing on the closeness that Muriel felt to her…
Muriel awoke, wondering exactly what possessed her to give herself so entirely to a virtual stranger. As far as she could remember, the Sith sorceress took no mind enhancing drugs or vice versa. Why then, would she simply ‘do’ in a few moments’ time what normally took her months of agonizing inner conflict, to decide? In the meantime, she felt Aren stirring. His hands were already upon her, soft breath wafting over the silk of her neck.
“Good morning," she replied, sighing into his random, tentative touch. How she hated her body sometimes … it would betray her to this man at the slightest opportunity, she thought with dismay. And why? The jury was still out on that one …
“I must see to the baby," Muriel finally muttered uneasily, wrenching herself from his sensuous caresses. "She needs to be fed. Surprising I hadn’t heard her all night. Normally, she keeps everyone up at all hours.”
Rising from the bed, the Sith Lord threw on one of her outer robes and tied it loosely around her waist, before striding out of the room - seemingly without a care in the world - either for Aren Antilles, or all that had just passed between them. He would find her in the medbay, sitting in one of the chairs, Janan in her arms. The baby suckled hungrily as her mother held tightly, taking great care to look upon her daughter while keeping her thoughts on the little bundle of joy in her arms. The irrefutable connection between them was growing by leaps and bounds with every passing day, and while Aren Antilles was a passing pleasure to her, Muriel knew that no matter what happened between them, the bond between a mother and her child, was forever.
Aren’s eyes locked with Muriel’s emerald’s as she spun on her heel to face him, the door closing shut and locked behind her, and the wonder that permeated her pupils registered with Antilles and before either of them knew it his arms encircled her slim form and just as suddenly Aren was lifting Muriel into the air with his powerful hands and carrying her to the nearby bed. Laying her gently upon the stiff mattress he would worship her with lips and hands as if she were a goddess, his goddess. Many a teasing stroke or caress was provided with either lips or hands until finally long minutes had passed and Aren’s passionate side was beginning to rise. He would undress Muriel slowly, tentatively even, allowing her to return the favor as they both removed one another’s armor and even their under garments.
What happened next was a mixture of passionate, expressive, picturesque, and at times tempestuous love making. Aren’s hips joined Muriel’s as his adoration for her was made clear, he would ensure that she did nothing to strain herself as he was fully aware that she had only recently given birth. The next morning Aren’s eyes would flutter open and he would find his arms encompassing Muriel’s naked and voluptuous figure, smiling to himself, pulling the covers over them for warmth and nuzzling into her neck planting tender kisses along her collarbone before whispering into her ear “Good morning sweetheart…sleep well?" as his fingertips began to trace circles, squares, triangles, and other random patterns over her abdomen.
With Muriel Y’ar, there never has been much present by way of inhibitions. Since a very young age, she was used, abused and molded into whatever her father - or whoever happened to be in charge of her ‘upbringing’ at the time - wanted her to be. Thus, when Aren’s hand moved to caress her side just before unlacing the string of her armor, she did not flinch. She did not slap away his hand, nor did she unleash a Force-wave of deadly lightning in his immediate direction.
She did not want to.
As the string fell noiselessly to the floor, Muriel allowed Paixon to take Janan from her mother’s protective embrace. He was grinning softly as he put the baby in the makeshift crib, then laid her gently into the layers of bedding prepared especially for her. Muriel was taken aback slightly by his father-like behavior. Or perhaps it was only in her imagination that she saw Aren Antilles as a nurturing guardian - in reality, the picture was probably far less kind - but for whatever reason, she did not care. Stretching out with the Force, she knew and felt that her infant daughter was safe - and that was plenty enough to allow the Sith Lord to throw some caution to the wind. Therefore, as Paixon reached out and grasped her hand in his, then turned toward the exit of the medical bay, Muriel did not object. She did not object when he led her out into the foyer and in the unmistakable direction of her private quarters.
Moments later, they would step into the silent confines of chambers Muriel had never before slept in. As the doors closed behind them both with a dull thud, the Sith sorceress pivoted on her heel and spun around to face her companion, her emerald eyes wide and alit with child-like wonder. Before she knew it, Aren’s embrace was encircling her slim form, oddly unblemished by all the horrendous demands of childbearing … and his hands were already upon her as she’d feel herself lifted into the air, being carried to the nearby bed where he would lay her upon the stiff mattress.
As the speechless walls of their confines watched, with lips and hands he worshipped her.
Aren could sense Muriel’s inhibitions peeling away as she gave herself to the caresses of his mouth, he would allow the kiss to blossom and radiate, his gloveless hand moving up from the left side of her abdomen and brushing over the mound of her left breast, avoiding touching Janan entirely, before his fingertips would sensuously unlace the string that held together the neck of her armor. The kiss breaking when he finished the unlacing he allowed the string to fall lightly to the floor below as he slowly turned Muriel to face him and retrieve Janan from her grasp. Grinning softly down at Muriel’s daughter as he made his way to her makeshift crib and laid her gently into the soft bedding.