In the Arms of Sleep

[Tristan Alastor]

The Prince of Hapes could find no rest. It was in his nature to fret, to think on things over which he had no control. As a Prince in little else but title, it was a pastime that had occupied him frequently on Hapes, where he was so often powerless to change the course of things. By this time tomorrow, he would be married. There was simply no escaping it.

He thought of Razielle, his wife to be, and what she might be doing at that very moment (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=18214). Did she share his restless anxiety? Both of them were committed to 'doing their duty', yet truth Tristan had actually found himself growing quite fond of her, though he knew she didn't feel the same way. She played the part well of course, as her station demanded, but in their moments of privacy the truth became apparent. Her heart didn't sigh at the sight of him, not the way his did for her.

With an exasperated breath, he fell back onto his bed, the heels of his palms pressed into his eyes. His whole body ached, exhausted from the weeks' activities. Between being head-butted by angry drexls and getting beaten and bruised Mandalore, he'd been left in quite a state. Sprawled across his huge yet distinctly empty bed, he felt the fatigue of it all pressing heavy on his chest and knew that sleep would claim him soon, offering a merciful reprieve from the worries of the world...

[Megaera]

Displaced in both space and time (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=17710), the astral body of the Nightsister known only as Megaera, daughter of Matier traveled. Through the cunning arts of her Dame, and the will of her own desire they had sent forth her spirit, riding along on the powers of the elements, wreathed in flames, but unburned, her physical body submerged in the cool waters of an ancient Dathomiri spring.

'A worthy vessel to serve as her eternal counterpart', that was what her mother had whispered that she must find. Her desire, heightened by the dark magic that was working through her, was sharpened to a deadly point. Becoming the arrow on the compass that was leading her to him... The one she was seeking..

Him..

C'nros Qu'ess...

[Tristan Alastor]

A dreamless sleep was what he wanted, but it seemed that this was to be yet another of Tristan's desires that would remain unfulfilled. No distinct images came to him at first, only a vague yet palpable sense of confusion and displacement. As he tossed and turned, the gossamer-thin bedsheets becoming tangled tight around his legs, his mind conjured up images of Razielle – first of her knelt at his feet, her head bowed in slave-like subservience; then with face alight with laughter as she ran ahead of him, dancing away into the distance. In the darkness, he reached out towards her, grasping hopelessly- but she was gone, and he was alone.

C'nros Qu'ess...

Frowning, the Prince's eyelids fluttered.

[Megaera]

She could feel him now in the darkness, she need only call him to her. If indeed he was the one she was seeking, he would hear her call across the distances between them, and find her. Desire for this union, knowing that not only would it bring strength to the Clan, but the power she would wield once she was a woman, his woman, was an intoxicating thought.

Megaera could not envision more than that. Although raised among men, she thought little of most of them. They were the stallions of her clan, there for the breeding. All, save a few who were the permanent consorts of the Nightsisters hierarchy. Those who were able to also manipulate the Mists and touch upon deep magick..

It was this virginal hunger, the power of a maiden seeking her lord, that drove her. Megaera gave into the rush of unknown lust that consumed her, willing the lick of the flames around her to heat his blood as well. She called to him with breathless sighs, chanted in her own tongue. Words were not important. It was the message they carried. As an inferno raged around her slender bare body, she tossed her golden locks, as if she were already writhing in passion for him.


Doer ulu uns'aa..

Doer ulu uns'aa, ussta C'nros Qu'ess..., her voice was pleading, beseeching...

She wanted him. Now.

[Tristan Alastor]

The heat of unseen flames spread across Tristan's skin, bringing beads of sweat to his furrowed brow as he turned once more.

Doer ulu uns'aa, ussta C'nros Qu'ess...

The words made no sense, spoken in a language he did not know – and yet there was meaning to them still. They had a potency that compelled him to listen and to obey. Each syllable uttered seemed to take him further from his bed-chambers, and further still from the thought of his betrothed, to some land of mist and harsh, primeval wilderness. The words sunk into him like talons, pulling him towards this nameless place, and Tristan's body grew tense in reply, his muscles taut.

Where are you taking me?

[Megaera]

The Mists themselves conspired to help Megaera. The spring, sentient as elemental Water, and the heat from the Fires of the Nightsisters collided, creating a space for them alone. It boasted no landscape, nothing between them now save for the feel of heated steam upon bare skin as she stretched out her fingers for him, close... so close...

Delmah, ussta ssinssrigg..

Home.., her mind promised softly..

[Tristan Alastor]

Home? Hapes

If there was one place he longed for and yet, paradoxically, never wanted to see again, it was Hapes – the throne of his mothers vast empire. As the mists shifted, however, he understood that the voice was not guiding him towards the Consortium. If anything, it was leading him further from it, into some dark and uncharted corner of the galaxy, where only primitive creatures could thrive. He felt he was somewhere, and yet he was nowhere, in a place of muggy warmth.

Who are you?

[Megaera]

Suddenly there was light within the darkness. A soft glow the shade of the sky at dawn that grew brighter with each passing moment. At the center of the light, where it was very bright was the shape of a young woman with flowing pale blond hair, and naked limbs outstretched. When she saw him, her features lit in a smile, as if she had been searching for him forever, and had just found him. Almost familiarity in her eyes, like she already knew him, had always known him...

Megeara...

[Tristan Alastor]

Tristan's eyes grew wide in an expression of wonder and suspicion, his head cocked to one side as he scrutinized what he saw. He felt himself moving towards her, a sensation as if simply drifting through the air rather than physically placing one foot in front of the other.

I do not recognize your name. What are you?

[Megaera]

Her head tilted just-so, her lips twitched in a smile as if he should know the answer to his own question.

I'm yours...

All too real fingers reached forward to brush gently across his arm, curling around his biceps to pull him closer to her. Her opposite arm lifted to curl around his neck, pressing her body against his, floating in their placeless realm.

It is only a dream, but I am real. You must come to me...

[Tristan Alastor]

That a dream could be so vivid, so real – it defied words. As a ghostly hand draw him nearer, Tristan felt the hairs on the back of his arms rise, his skin warm and yet almost shivering under her touch. The closer she came, the less strength he felt he had to push her away. More than that, he began to wonder why he would push her away at all...

Why?

[Megaera]

Because.., she smiled. You are not meant to be where you are. You are meant to be here, with me.

Closing her eyes, her brow wrinkled in a frown as she searched her feelings. You are not to be lead around. You are to lead.

There is more for you in this life than what you have now, but you have to claim it..

[Tristan Alastor]

The words were a challenge and one that he could not deny he wanted to rise to. His life before leaving the Consortium had been an uphill, losing battle against the will of his mother – and yet now it seemed he had been freed, let loose on the condition that he remained as far away from Hapes as possible. Though a spiteful part of him wished to do just that, he knew that in time he would return to the place he knew as home, if only to release his sister from whatever gilded cage their mother had fashioned for her. But he could not do that alone, not without...

How can I find you – and claim what is.. rightfully mine?

[Megaera]

Her hand brushed over his eyes closing them, even as she whispered to him still.

You will not need your physical senses. Let go and feel. The Mists will guide you to me. Trust your instincts.

The sensation of burning flames around her was beginning to dull. Her time with him was ending, it was important that she tell him as much as she could quickly.

Come to me..

To Dathomir..

She removed her hand from his eyes. Leaning forward, she brushed her fingers over his cheek.

Find me.

[Tristan Alastor]

Continued in The Once and Future Prince (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=19191)